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snowdice · 3 years ago

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Big Bang (Sort of) Editing Story [Day 66]

I started writing this fic while editing my Big Bang story, but am going to continue doing it for other things now that Kill Dear is out. I will write and publish 100 words of the story every time I finish doing whatever task I’m doing. If you’d like to block these proceedings, please feel free to block the tag proofread stories. I will reblog this post with the parts of the story I do today. Edited chapters are linked; everything else I’ve done so far is under the cut.

My Master Post Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 Part 24 Part 25 Part 26 Part 27 Part 28 Part 29

It’s editing time for me because I have not edited in way too long. I am so behind on the Study Fic and this one. Oof. Also I should do some blog organization maybe.

Chapter 30

After lunch, Patton and Logan took Virgil out to the garden to walk around. They let Virgil lead them around wherever he wanted to go in the garden. A bunch more flowers had died since the last time they’d been out here, and Patton felt sad despite having never felt very sad about that sort of thing before. But, Virgil seemed to really like the flower he’d found last time, so Patton thought he was probably sad on the boy’s behalf.

Of course, Patton thought, perking up, eventually it would be spring, and Virgil could get to not only see some flowers but all of the flowers as they grew. Patton couldn’t wait to see him amongst the garden then.

Virgil took them wandering through the orchard for a while, but most of the trees had been stripped of their fruits and the leaves were beginning to fall off some. They ended up in the vegetable garden after a bit, and Virgil finally seemed to decide on a direction instead of just ambling about.

A few seconds after Patton noticed Virgil seemingly decide on a destination, Patton noticed Mr. Deknis kneeling on the ground a few feet away. Had… had Virgil been looking for him? Patton wondered. That was adorable.

Mr. Deknis looked up as they approached and smiled at them.

“Hello, Mr. Deknis,” Patton said as they came closer.

“Hello you three,” Mr. Deknis said. “Getting into trouble?”

“No,” Virgil said, shaking his head.

Mr. Deknis gave him a flash of a smile. “I know, I’m joking,” he said. “Especially since there isn’t much left in my gardens for certain princes to destroy with experiments.”

“Oh, okay,” Virgil said. He tilted his head. “What are you doing?”

“I’m getting the last of the acorn squash out,” Mr. Deknis replied. “It’s the last crop to get finished. Good thing too, it’s supposed to start snowing soon.”

Virgil looked down curiously at the dark green squash.

“Would you like to help me pick a couple?” Mr. Deknis asked.

“Sure,” Virgil said, sounding interested. Mr. Deknis patted the ground beside him, and Virgil knelt down to watch him.

“They’re not too difficult to harvest,” he said. “You just cut the fruit off the stem. You want to leave about a hand’s width of the stem left over which will help preserve moisture. The earlier harvests I left in the field to cure in the sun for a couple weeks, but the frost’ll ruin these, so we’ll take them inside the green house and let them sit in the sun for a bit there. We also want to keep the leaves. You’ll probably be eating those for dinner tonight since they have to be cooked up within about 24 hours after they’re picked. Patton’s mom makes a good side dish with them and she’ll be making some curry tomorrow, probably. Maybe some stew if there are some left over. Put the squash in this wheelbarrow and the leaves into this pile, okay?” Virgil nodded and Mr. Deknis handed him the extra pair of gloves and shears he carried with him in case one set broke. “These might be a bit big on you, but they should work for now.”

Mr. Deknis looked up at Patton and Logan. “Would the two of you like to help?” he asked. “I can get some more equipment.”

“I can help out if you want, but you don’t need to stop and get more equipment just for me,” Patton said.

“The same for me,” Logan said.

“Well, if you’d like to help still, you can sort the leave. Give your mother a head start.”

“Sure,” Patton said. He and Logan went to do that while Mr. Deknis and Virgil worked on cutting the squashes from the vine.

“What do you do during the winter?” Virgil asked curiously. “If this is your last crop?”

“Well, at the beginning, I mostly will be working on making sure things are stored correctly along with some of the kitchen staff. There’s some drying to do and some canning. After that’s done, I’ll spend some time organizing and planning. Then, before the spring comes, I’ll start preparing seedlings in the green house.”

“Seedlings?” he asked.

“I let seeds start to grow in the greenhouse that I replant once it gets warm enough.”

“Why don’t you just plant them where they’re going?”

“I do for some,” he said, “but giving some a head start is good for them.”

Patton watched as Virgil continued to ask questions about gardening while working on harvesting the squash. Mr. Deknis continued to answer them in a calm, soft tone that Patton didn’t think he’d ever heard from the often gruff man before.

Patton wasn’t surprised when, after finishing getting most of the squash off of the vine, Mr. Deknis asked if Virgil wanted to help him with canning some pears in a couple of days. Virgil immediately looked over at Logan and Patton as though asking permission.

“Say yes if you would like to Virgil,” Logan said.

“Yes,” Virgil said as soon as he was given permission. Mr. Deknis smiled at him softly and started loading the last of the squash into the wheelbarrow. Patton offered to run the squash leaves to the kitchen while Logan and Virgil helped Mr. Deknis take the actual squash to the green house.

He dropped the leaves off to a kitchen worker since Mama was busy and headed back out to the garden. By the time he returned, Logan was already back from the green house and sitting by one of the more decorative trees near the castle.

“He’s exploring,” Logan said, nodding at a large patch of bushes.

Patton chuckled. “I see.” He sat next to Logan. Every so often he’d hear the bushes rustle, but he couldn’t tell if it was actually Virgil or an animal.

“He’s adorable,” Patton commented, keeping an ear out.

Logan hummed.

“I’m glad we kept him.”

“He isn’t a pet, Patton.”

Patton rolled his eyes. “I know, but I’m still glad. I’m glad he’s making friends with Mr. Deknis. Once he knows how to read better, we should get him a book about gardening. He seems interested.”

Logan nodded. “Having a hobby would be good for him. Clearly he has a fascination with the garden.” He nodded to the blur of dark hair that could be seen through the bushes. It seemed Virgil had stopped his exploration and was now laying down in the bushes a few feet away.

“I’m going to go see what he’s doing,” Patton said. “I’ll be right back.”

Logan nodded and Patton got to his feet. The bushes were part of a small maze that was filled with flowers during the spring and summer months but were mostly just green and brown bushes for now. Despite the fact that Patton had been able to see him only a few feet away, it took him a while to wind through the path to where he was. When he finally turned the last corner and he came into view, Patton gasped softly.

“Ghost kitty!” he said, making sure to make his voice as quiet as possible.

Despite how soft he made his voice, two pairs of eyes shot over to him. The completely black kitten was perched on Virgil’s lap like she belonged there. Ghost Kitty hissed slightly, but Virgil reached forward to pet her head gently.

“This is Ghost Kitty?” Virgil asked. “I thought you said she was hard to pet.”

“She is,” Patton said. He lowered himself onto the ground from a few feet away from them. “How did you get her to come to you?”

Virgil glanced down at the cat and shrugged, scratching one of her ears. “She just came over to me and let me pet her.”

“Wow,” Patton said softly. He looked at the cat. “Could I pet you sweetie?” he asked, holding out a hand in her direction. She hissed again.

Virgil frowned down at her. “It’s Patton,” he said as though he expected her to understand his words and the exasperation in his tone.

He pet the cat’s head to soothe her and then reached over to grab Patton’s hand. He pulled and Patton carefully leaned a bit closer until his hand was within sniffing distance. Ghost Kitty sniffed his fingers contemplatively and then bumped her head against it. He barely restrained a squeal, knowing that probably wouldn’t be taken well.

He carefully turned his hand over so he could stroke the top of her head. He gently scratched her ear, not daring to go for under her chin yet since she didn’t know him well. “Hi,” he said softly. After a moment, she started to purr softly. Virgil reached over and scratched under her chin and she purred louder. “Oh, you’re a good girl,” Patton breathed, letting a hand trail gently down her back once and then again. Patton settled himself carefully into a seating position continuing to pet her. After a few more moments of soft petting, she hesitantly stepped her front paws onto Patton’s thigh, so she was sitting in both of their laps. Patton laughed softly. “Hi sweetie.” He glanced over at Virgil who had a wide smile on his face as he pet the cat. This. This was adorable. They continued to pet the cat for a very long time.

Chapter 31

Logan waited for a while after Patton left to check on Virgil, but the two never resurfaced. It was odd, Patton would usually remember to come back and get Logan or at least tell them where they were. With a sigh, Logan climbed to his feet to go find them. It took him a while to weave his way through the maze of bushes to them especially because they were suspiciously quiet (Well, suspicious for Patton. Virgil was often unnervingly quiet when alone.) Luckily, he knew the bushes enough after all of these years not to get lost and managed to find the two after a few minutes.

“Ah,” he said, immediately identifying the reason for Patton disappearing.

“Logan!” Patton said, his voice excited, but also quieter than normal. “We found a kitty!”

“I can see that,” Logan responded, taking a step closer. The cat hissed at him in response. The hissing was so intense and wild that he’d suspect the thing was feral if it wasn’t happily on Virgil’s lap having had it’s head in Patton’s lap before Logan had approached.

“No,” Virgil told the animal as though it could understand words. “That’s Logan. Be nice.”

The cat still glared at him and swished it’s tail back and forth threateningly. Virgil pet the top of it’s head and it broke eye contact with Logan to purr.

Patton seemed delighted by the purring, reaching to stroke under the thing’s chin carefully. “We should give her a name!” Patton said.

Virgil frowned. “I thought her name was Ghost Kitty.”

“That is ‘Ghost Kitty’?” Logan asked skeptically. From what Patton had said about that cat, it was terrified of people and no one could ever get near it, even him. Now it was in Virgil’s lap?

“But that was a temporary name,” Patton said, “for before we officially met her. Now we have to give her a real name.”

“Do not give it a name,” Logan said. “You will get attached.”

“How do you name a cat?” Virgil asked.

“Do not name it,” Logan said.

“You give them names based on their personalities, how they look, or even just because it’s a cute name,” Patton explained. “Like, remember Mittens? I named her Mittens because she has white fur and black paws!”

Virgil looked at the cat. “She’s completely black,” he said.

Patton hummed. “So, we could give her a name based on that like Midnight or Shadow.”

“Those are fine,” Virgil said.

“No, no,” Patton said. “I’m just giving you examples. You get to name her yourself.”

“This is a bad idea,” Logan said.

“Just throw out some names,” Patton said. “Anything you can think of.”

“Uh,” Virgil said. “Knife.”

“…Just Knife?” Patton asked.

“Nightmare.” Virgil seemed to think about it. “No, that’s mean.”

“How about things you like?” Patton suggested.

“Alfredo?”

Oh no, Logan thought, he was worse than Patton at cat naming.

“Good start,” Patton said. “Logan, do you have any suggestions.”

“Cat,” Logan said.

“Real suggestions,” Patton scolded.

Logan sighed and thought for a moment. “Aphrodite.”

“Catphrodite!”

Logan glared at him. “Helena.”

“Helenpaw.”

“Claudia.”

“Clawdia.”

“Persephone.”

Patton smiled at him, cheerfully.

“…Damnit!”

Patton turned to Virgil again. “Like that! They don’t even have to be serious. Like, uh, you could name her Madam Fluffywuffykins the Great!”

“Do not name her that,” Logan said, scrunching up his nose.

Logan sat on the ground, the cat eyeing him, but no longer hissing. Logan gently guided them towards more sensible names despite Patton trying his hardest to drag them into stupidity.

Virgil still didn’t quite get it. He mostly tried to name it after foodstuff, and often not even appropriate foodstuff such as “Corn” and “Acorn Squash” and “Sandwich” and occasionally would drop in semi violent ones such as “Razor,” “Nightshade” and “Void.” Patton suggested names like “Fluffers,” “Bobette” and “Darling” as well as some that were puns. Logan tried to direct them towards more sensible ones like “Salem” and even went so low as to suggest the contrary “Snowball.”

It quickly seemed to become less about actually naming the cat and more of a game. Patton had taught Virgil about playing with cats and had even gotten out a ball of yarn he cared around for his crafts. Both Virgil and the cat seemed to find endless entertainment with that. Logan hoped Patton had another ball of yarn that color because, he was never going to get that ball back.

The barrage of names fizzled out into naming things around them like “Leaf” and “Bush” until they stopped suggesting names altogether. Patton and Logan sat back and watched Virgil play with the cat.

Logan watched as they stopped playing suddenly and Virgil and the cat squinted at each other. “Marisol,” Virgil said, pulling the name out of nowhere. “That’s her name.” He said it with a certainty that was surprising considering how he’d treated the naming process with confusion and caution earlier. If Logan did not know better, his tone of voice would indicate that the cat, or Marisol he guessed, had gotten bored of them coming up with stupid names and decided to tell him her actual name herself.

The cat made a sound and batted at Virgil’s face without claws to grab back his attention.

He turned back to it and bopped its face with a finger in kind. It attacked his finger, but in a clearly playful matter as it still did not extend it’s claws and its teeth did not draw blood.

“That’s a great name, Virgil,” Patton said.

“Much more pleasant than any that Patton suggested all afternoon,” Logan said. He received an elbow to the side for his quip.

“A pretty name for a pretty kitty,” Patton said, scooting over to where Virgil was sat and attempting to pet Marisol’s head. Marisol, however, was too keyed up and batted at the hand.

“I love you too!” Patton said.

Logan rolled his eyes, but he had long since resigned himself to watching the two of them play with and coo over the cat for the rest of the day.

Eventually, though, it started to get darker. Even after Logan pointed this out, it still took over an hour for them to relent and leave the bush maze to go to the door. The problem was of course, that the cat had managed to grow very attached to Virgil in the last few hours and she followed them all the way to the door with manipulatively heart breaking mews.

“You’ve got to stay out here,” Virgil said, when they got to the castle door. He pet her ear softly and she shoved her head into his hand. “I’m sorry. I don’t have anywhere to put you.” He sounded horribly sad about that fact and Logan felt himself shift uncomfortably. “I basically live in a closet and Logan doesn’t like cats in his room anyway.”

Logan immediately felt unreasonably guilty, probably more so because Logan did not think Virgil was trying to make him feel guilty. “…Bring the dammed thing inside.”

Virgil blinked up at him. “What?”

“It will get cold soon anyway,” Logan said.

He frowned at Logan from where he was crouched. “But you don’t like fur in your room…”

“I will have to find a potion that works,” he said with a sigh, “and we’ll have to say it’s mine to the guards and Father since it will be staying in my room, but it is yours in every other way. That means you are going to feed it, clean it, and clean up after it.”

Virgil nodded immediately and swooped Marisol up in his arms. The cat went without complaint. “Thank you!” he said. “I love her.”

“I know you do,” Logan said, already regretting it already. Yet, he couldn’t bring himself to even consider recanting the offer considering how happy Virgil seemed to be. They had a cat now, he guessed.

Chapter 32

“What are you doing?” Helen asked a few minutes after her son walked into the kitchen and started looking around as though he were trying to find something. It was a few hours into the afternoon, and she and a few workers were already prepping for dinner.

“Uh,” Patton said. “Have you seen Virgil?”

“No,” Helen said. “Why.”

“Er… Logan and I sorta, lost him,” Patton said. He was wringing his hands anxiously. Helen put down the knife in her hand.

“What do you mean you lost him?” she asked.

“Well, see, we were trying to teach him how to play hide and seek, um, but then we didn’t think to tell him that he eventually had to come out if we didn’t find him, and now we haven’t seen him since breakfast.”

“He didn’t know what tag is?” she asked. That was just one more thing to add to the list of why Helen worried about Virgil and where he came from. Every morsel of information she’d managed to wring from Patton despite his evasions made her lists of concerns grow larger, even little things like him not knowing about simple childhood games. Actually, thinking of concerning things having to do with Virgil. “Wait, so he hasn’t eaten lunch.”

“Um, we don’t know that,” Patton’s mouth said while his eyes said ‘no.’

“He needs to be on a consistent diet, especially when he’s still taking the malnutrition potion,” she scolded.

“I know, Mama, I know,” Patton said. “I’m trying to find him. I’d kinda hoped he’d gotten hungry and snuck down here. He probably wouldn’t want to risk being caught stealing food though.”

Helen grimaced. Yet another concerning thing.

“Wait! I have an idea, I’ll be right back.” Patton turned and ran out of the room. Helen frowned at the space he’d been and finished chopping the carrot on the cutting board in front of her. If it had been any other person in the castle missing, Helen wouldn’t have worried, but she had literally never seen Virgil without Patton and/or Logan by his side. Even when he’d gone to help Jeff can some fruit, Logan had reportedly hung around to read a book.

Considering that Logan had never exactly been clingy even with Patton, she imagined that either Virgil asked, or Logan thought he should stay with him for his comfort. So, she was surprised that he was apparently hidden away somewhere in the castle where neither of the other kids could find him.

Still thinking about this, she walked over to the entrance to the cellar below the kitchen where they stored most of the vegetables, planning to grab some more carrots. She was confused for a moment when she heard movement from deeper in the pantry. She reached over and touched the panel near the door that controlled the magic lights.

The newly illuminated figure startled as the lights came on, whipping around to stare at her with wide eyes.

“Virgil?” she asked.

“Sorry,” he said immediately, taking a step back.

“It’s fine,” she said immediately, “but what are you doing here?”

He considered her for a long moment, but apparently, she passed some sort of mental test, because he relaxed, at least as much as he’d ever relaxed in her presence. “Where are we?” he asked.

Her brow knit together. “The cellar under the kitchen,” she said, “You don’t know that?”

He shook his head.

“The only entrance is from the kitchen.” Now that she thought about it, she hadn’t seen him go through the kitchen at any point.

“No, it’s not,” Virgil said. “There’s a tunnel.”

“A-a tunnel?” she asked. Actually, taking a closer look at him, he seemed a bit grimy. He had dust all over his front and dirt on his nose. She thought he might even have a couple of cobwebs in his hair.

“Yep,” he said.

“Where’s the tunnel?” she asked.

“It’s right over here,” he said. He took a couple of steps and pointed to the ground. There was an open square hole there that clearly had been made a long time ago but which she had never noticed in all of her time working here.

“How did you find this?” she asked.

“We were playing hide and seek,” Virgil explained. “Logan said I could hide anywhere inside the castle. I hid on top of a dresser upstairs in some unused sitting room. There was a hole in the wall above it, so I climbed into it. Then, I crawled a little bit and it let out into a hidden passage in the walls. I wandered around in it until I found another hole in one of the walls. I thought it was a way out, so I squeezed into it, but it took me to a different hallway where I found an old room. There was a different hole in that room that had probably been covered by something because it was in the floor but whatever it was had rotted away. I crawled though it into a tunnel and came out here.”

She couldn’t help but laugh a bit at his explanation. “Well, it sounds like you went on an adventure,” she said, “but Patton and Logan have been trying to find you. You missed lunch.”

He tilted his head at her. “I know. I was supposed to hide.”

“Yes,” she explained, “but you are supposed to come out at some point if they can’t find you for things like food.”

“Oh,” he said.

“They probably should have explained,” she said. “For now, why don’t we get you something to eat? You must be hungry.”

Virgil frowned. “But I missed lunch.”

“You can still eat even though it’s not in normal hours,” she said. “You could even if you had made it to lunch.”

“Really?” he asked, he looked tragically confused by this offer.

“Of course, sweetie,” she said. “In fact, I insist you get something good to eat right now. How about I made you a grilled ham and cheese sandwich? Maybe some cookies too!”

Virgil titled his head. “You are Patton’s mother,” he stated.

Helen laughed softly. “He gets its all from me,” she said. “We should probably go find him and tell him you’re okay. He was worried.”

“I didn’t mean to worry him,” Virgil said with a frown.

“I know,” Helen said. “It’s okay. He’ll probably laugh when he figures out where you’ve been, and Logan will interrogate you all about the secret passageways.” He seemed happy about the prospect of seeing his friends. “Come on, let’s go upstairs for a bit,” she said.

Chapter 33

Patton’s mom had already made Virgil sit down at the small table in the corner of the kitchen and had handed him a sandwich by the time Patton barreled into the kitchen, Logan coming after him at a more sedate pace.

“Virgil!” he said, sounding surprised and relieved.

“Patton,” Patton’s mom scolded. “No cats in the kitchen.” Patton had brought Marisol in with him and had let her go as soon as he’d seen Virgil. She immediately plodded over to him and hoped onto the table to sniff at his face in greeting.

“But she’s the princess!” Patton argued.

“No,” Logan said.

“Yes, she is!” Patton said.

“The stupid cat is not a princess.”

“Don’t be mean to your little sister, Logan.”

“I regret every life decision that has led me to this point.”

While Logan and Patton were distracted squabbling and Patton’s mom was distracted watching them squabble, Virgil tore off a bit of the ham in his sandwich and offered it to Marisol. Marisol gracefully took it from his grip and ate it.

“So, this is Logan’s new cat I’ve been hearing about?” Patton’s mom asked.

“Indeed,” Logan said, his lips thinned. He and Marisol were mostly amicable when alone with just them and Virgil, but Patton had a habit of cooing over the kitten and needling Logan into being irritated.

“Mmm, yeah,” Patton’s mom said. She glanced over at Virgil right as Marisol basically slammed her face into his chin in a bid to get pets. “Your cat.” She shook her head. “But Princess Kitten or not, I do not want fur in dinner,” she said.

“Sorry,” Patton said, honestly not sounding sorry at all. Virgil was always a bit surprised when the insolent shrug garnered nothing more that a scowl that did not reach Patton’s mom’s eyes. “I thought she could help me find Virgil, but you already found him.” He turned to Virgil. “Where have you been all day?”

“Found a tunnel,” Virgil said. He had to use one hand to hold Marisol back from his sandwich as he took another bite, but then gave her a bite of cheese.

“You found what?” Logan asked.

“There’s a tunnel under the cellar,” Virgil said. “It goes to an old closed up room and also to a set of secret passageways.” It was a bit of a security risk honestly, though clearly no one had used it in years by how dirty it was. He did plan to go back into it and make sure the sprawling tunnels didn’t go to anywhere more dangerous like the royal wing.

“A closed-up room?” Logan said. He could see a bit of curiosity already building in his eyes.

“Yeah,” Virgil said. “Where the door used to be seemed like it had been bricked over.”

“Really? Can you show me.”

“Sure,” Virgil answered.

“Ah, perhaps we should be a bit more cautious about climbing through random tunnels we don’t know the stability of,” Patton’s mom said.

Logan’s frown edged on a pout.

“Talk to your father,” she said. “I’m sure he can get someone who understands these things so you can safely investigate.”

“It was safe enough for Virgil,” Logan pointed out.

“No, Logan.”

He sighed but seemed to concede. That was another strange thing about living here. By all rights Logan didn’t have to obey anyone except the king, but he often listened to those around him, not just the adults but Patton as well. It was interesting though it sometimes made the hierarchy hard to figure out. Virgil did sometimes stress out about the hypothetical situation where he got conflicting orders from two people, and he wouldn’t know which one to obey. So far it hadn’t been a problem luckily. They always seemed to work it out amongst themselves in some give and take social interaction that was a bit too complex for him to understand.

Patton walked over to where Virgil was sitting. “I’m glad your safe,” he said. “We should probably put a time limit on hide and seek in the future, so you know when to come out.”

“Did I win?” Virgil asked. He’d honestly forgotten they’d been playing a game until Patton’s mom had asked how he’d found his way into the cellar.

Patton laughed. “I’d say so, yeah,” he replied. He leaned over to kiss Virgil’s forehead, but drew back immediately with a pinched expression. “You are… very dirty,” he said, rubbing his mouth.

Virgil nodded. “Your mom made me sit on a tablecloth,” he said gesturing to the fabric she’d laid over the chair.

Patton snorted out a laugh. “We’ll get you into the bath when you’re done eating and you can tell us all about your little adventure.”

“I would also like to hear about your discoveries,” Logan said. “Though you are not allowed to sit on the bed until you do not have spider webs in your hair.”

Patton’s eyes widened and he jumped away from Virgil, startling both Virgil and Marisol. The latter hopped from the table onto Virgil’s lap. “Spiders?!”

Virgil tilted his head at him in confusion.

“He isn’t a fan of spiders,” Logan informed him, his voice amused at Patton’s reaction.

Apparently deciding that she was no longer startled, but more confused by the noises Patton had just made, Marisol jumped out of Virgil’s lap to investigate, wrapping her way around Patton’s legs. He bent down to pat her back, though he still looked a bit startled.

“Your cat, huh?” Patton’s mom asked Logan once again. Virgil studied her. She had apparently missed Logan mentioning that he allowed Virgil on the bed. Or perhaps Logan was correct in his insistence that it wasn’t actually that big of a deal here. Virgil would rather not test that assumption, however, so was glad that it had been distracted from by Patton’s outburst.

“Creepy, crawly death dealers,” Patton mumbled into Marisol’s fur, having picked her back up. Virgil made a note to not inform Patton of all of the different types of spiders he’d seen skittering around in the castle walls today. Maybe he’d talk about them with Logan once Patton left. He’d probably be interested. Virgil had seen some he’d never seen before! Logan probably could even help him figure out what their names were. “You’ll protect me, won’t you kitty?” Patton asked Marisol.

She made a little ‘burrrr’ sound in response, which Patton seemed to take a confirmation.

“Aw thank you, baby! Such a good baby.”

50234

Virgil popped the rest of the sandwich into his mouth. Patton’s mom turned away and grabbed a plate stacked with cookies. She handed it to Logan. “Take these, and please get the health hazards out of my kitchen,” she requested.

Logan took them without complaint. “Come on, Virgil,” he said. “Let’s go get you clean.”

“We’re going to need so much soap,” Patton said.

Virgil looked down at himself. “I can go outside and get most of it off if you get me a bucket of water,” he offered.

“Virgil, it’s below freezing,” Logan said as though that had a baring on what he’d just said. Logan sighed. “No. Bathtub.” Virgil shrugged. “Honestly,” Logan said. He turned with the plate of cookies in his hand, clearly expecting to be followed. “You’re not going to catch your death pouring a bucket of water over yourself in the cold when there are literally over a hundred perfectly good bathtubs in this castle. For goodness sakes.” And well, Virgil wasn’t going to complain.

Chapter 34

Patton, to be completely honest, was not all that interested in the room that Virgil had found. Beyond just the fact that it would definitely have creepy crawly death dealers in it, he really did not understand the intrigue. If it had just been him, he probably would have just let a castle worker deal with it, but it was not just him. Logan was ecstatic with the prospect of investigating a secret in the castle. People who didn’t know him well may not believe it considering he spent most of his time with his nose in a book, but he was an adventurer at heart.

Thomas had been easily swayed into finding someone to help tear down part of the wall into the secret tunnel near the room (so no one would have to crawl through the kitchen cellar like Virgil). It had taken a few days, however, and Logan was practically bouncing off the walls waiting. Virgil, despite having already seen the room before, also seemed excited, though if that was because of his own curiosity or because he was just excited that Logan seemed so exited remained to be seen.

“They are silly, aren’t they,” Patton asked Princess Marisol. He was laying on his stomach on Logan’s bed and Princess Marisol had just put her little paw on his nose.

“Yes, I agree,” he said. “Don’t they know that we’re literally going to be 2 feet away from the normal hallway?”

“It is not silly,” Logan defended himself. “Any number of things could go wrong.” He sounded far too excited about the prospect of something going terribly wrong. “The tunnels could cave in and block off the exit or there could be some unknown pathogen in the air.”

Patton did not ruin his fun by mentioning that Logan’s dad had definitely basically baby proofed the tunnels for them ahead of time. Instead, he just said, “Don’t let Virgil hear you say that sort of thing. It will just stress him out.”

“Yes, yes, of course,” he said, waving off Patton’s concerns as he mulled over two different weird green planty things (potion ingredients, Patton assumed) before setting one aside and sticking the other in his bag.

“So silly,” Patton cooed at the cat. Logan let out a huff but did not choose to say anything about it this time.

Speaking of silly, Virgil came back from Logan’s bathroom then, and Patton tried not to giggle. “Is this right?” Virgil asked, sounding and looking confused. Logan, in his overexcitement about adventure had commissioned Virgil an outfit that actually fit. Said outfit, however, very much made it look more like Virgil was going on a safari instead of a two-foot detour from the normal castle hallway.

“Almost,” Logan said, “Here, let me.” Logan started straightening everything out and flattening the collar, reminding Patton of an overbearing parent on picture day. Virgil accepted the fussing without protest. It was adorable. Well, the outfit was ridiculous, but still, adorable. “There,” Logan said. “I think we’re ready to go now.”

It was about time. Patton was sure people were already waiting for them downstairs. Patton got up and patted Princess Marisol on the head. She looked up at them with interest.

“You can stay here, sweetie,” Patton told here. She seemed to consider it and then hopped down from the bed to go rub up against Virgil.

Patton guessed she was coming. It didn’t matter too much since Logan had given her a magical collar that allowed her to open most doors in the castle and everyone knew she was the royal cat now, so if she decided she wanted to come back to the room and nap, she could. (She was very aware of the power she held.)

She pranced happily by Virgil’s side all the way down the steps to the first floor of the castle. She was such a good kitty.

Well, she did hiss angrily at everyone who came too close to them, but still, a very good kitty.

Patton did lean down and pick her up so they could actually talk to the man waiting for them at the large hole in the wall. Logan went to talk to the castle worker while Virgil half hid behind Patton. He was clearly listening very intently to the conversation however, at least more intently than Patton was. Patton was busy shaking his head fondly.

“Yes, yes, Princess,” he said to the cat. “I know we do not trust the strangers, but I promise this stranger is perfectly safe.”

“How do you know?” Virgil asked.

“His name is Chester and I’ve known him since I was 9.”

This seemed to slightly alleviate Virgil’s suspicion, but Princess Marisol still seemed antsy. Patton really needed to start slowly introducing the both of them to more people.

Logan finished talking with Chester after a few moments and it was time to climb through the hole in the wall. He wished he saw in the tunnel whatever Logan with his excited eyes and bounce to his step obviously saw. Or even that was more comfortable in the dark closed in space as Virgil obviously was. As it was, Patton’s nose scrunched up at the thought off all of the spiders that could be living everywhere in the secret tunnel, but he pushed through.

The entrance to the tunnel had been made only a little bit from the room Virgil had mentioned and Chester had led them through it after only a couple of seconds. As Patton had suspected, the room was already lit up and probably cleaned a little bit by the people who had cut into the wall, not that he was complaining.

Virgil was still clinging a bit to Patton’s shirt, though it seemed to be less out of anxiety at this point and more out of a desire to stick close. He was peering around curiously at the lit-up space. He probably hadn’t seen much of it in the dark when he’d been here before.

Yet, his curiosity was nothing compared to how excited Logan seemed to be. Now Patton may have not been interested in the room itself, but he was entertained by how interested Logan was and was happy to encourage that.

“What do you think this place is?” he asked Logan.

Logan hummed contemplatively, eyes looking around. “Well,” he said. “It’s a bedroom clearly, and old. Considering the location it is in in the castle, the size, the decorations, and it’s likely age, I’d imagine it was a bedroom of a royal family member. This used to be the royal wing three royal lines ago.”

“Bearing that in mind, there are a couple of likely possibilities for the origin of the room as well as the reason it was sealed up, but we will need to investigate more in order to come to an actual conclusion.” He had already placed the bag he’d brought on the ground and was going through it, pulling out things that Patton did not recognize. He also got a piece of paper and sat on the floor to start to sketch.

“What are you doing?” Virgil asked.

“I’m sketching the floorplan of the room,” Logan said. “I will then put a grid on it so we can investigate while being sure that we aren’t missing anything.”

Virgil seemed uninterested in this part of the adventure, instead electing to go poking around by himself. Princess Marisol squirmed out of Patton’s arms to go follow him. Patton swore that he only looked away from those two for 5 seconds, but the next thing he knew he heard metal clicking against metal.

“Oh,” Patton said, eyes wide when he saw what Virgil was fiddling with. “Honey, you probably shouldn’t touch…”

The old but fancy looking chest that had been at the end of the remains of the bed creaked open. Virgil sneezed as a cloud of dust puffed out of it. “Huh,” he said studying the contents. “There’s a skull in here.”

“Oh, I don’t like this adventure anymore,” Patton commented.

Logan was on his feet within moments. “Let me see,” he said eagerly.

“What if it’s cursed?” Patton pointed out.

“Then I’ll just break the curse,” Logan waved him off. “Oh, it’s just a horse skull,” Logan said, sounding disappointed. “And also what seemed to be potion ingredients. Though they seem very fresh considering the state of the room.”

“Maybe we should get someone else to…”

Logan already had both arms inside the chest and was pulling things out of it. “This chest must have some sort of stasis effect to it.”

He started pulling things out to look at them before setting them on the floor with no caution. “Well,” he said, “that answers the question of what this room is.”

“It does?” Patton asked.

“Ah, yes, between the horse skull and the potion ingredients, this is obviously the bedroom of Princess Marianne Elicia. She was the third child of King Simon IV and was quite the fan of horses.”

“…So she kept a horse skull in a stasis chest in her bedroom?” Patton asked.

“Of course,” Logan said. “Back when her family was in power, magic was outlawed and had quite the stigma against it, but she ended up learning magic and become quite proficient.”

“It’s debated what exactly happened when her father found out about her activities. Some sources say that she was executed silently by her father, but others say she managed to escape with the head of the stables but not before putting a curse on the country of Prijaznia. That is until she or one of her bloodline sits on the throne, every royal line will end in madness and blood by the 5th seated monarch before an heir is born.”

“Isn’t that something you should be worried about?” Virgil asked.

Logan shrugged. “It’s just a myth,” he said. “Besides I’m 6th in the line, so there really isn’t any concern.”

52142

“There are a lot of interesting things in here,” Logan said, still focused on the chest. “Not to mention the books. We’ll have to be careful with those though since they don’t appear to be in stasis.”

Logan pulled the horse skull out and set it on the floor making Patton wince.

“Marisol no!” he said as Princess Marisol immediately went to go sniff at it. He swooped her up in his arms. “How long are we staying in this creepy room?” Patton asked.

“Patton, we just got here,” Logan said.

“We just got here and already found a skull!”

“Yes! Exactly!”

Patton groaned into Princess Marisol’s fur even as she tried wiggle away to go back and investigate the skull. This was going to be a long day.

Chapter 35

Logan was surprised when he woke up alone in bed. He’d grown to anticipate waking to a smaller body unrelentingly clinging to his in the past couple of weeks. Confused he sat up and peered around his bedroom. He wouldn’t have seen Virgil with the way he melted into the darkness if it he hadn’t heard the sound of purring coming from near the window. He could just barely make out a dark blob shifting up and down at the cat kneaded at a different blob sitting mostly hidden behind the thick curtain.

“Virgil?” Logan questioned. “What are you doing?”

“It’s snowing,” was the answer.

“That is not an answer,” Logan grumbled at the ceiling. With a sigh, he pulled himself out of bed. It was a bit chilly in here, he thought. The temperature must have dipped suddenly and intensely enough that the runes keeping the castle at a warm enough temperature hadn’t caught up yet. He pulled one of the blankets off of the top of his bed to wrap around his shoulders as he approached the window. There wasn’t much light outside, the stars and moon covered by clouds, but there were some lanterns lit for the night guard who patrolled the outside. “Oh,” he said in surprise. “It’s really snowing.”

It had been colder but not quite cold enough for snow to stick the day before, so it came as a surprise when he saw snow was piling up quite high to the point where familiar paths outside his window had disappeared.

“I don’t like it,” Virgil informed him.

“Why not?” Logan asked.

“It’s cold,” Virgil answered. It was clear in his tone that in Virgil’s opinion ‘cold’ was a horrible insult to the concept of snow. Logan quirked a half smile and his attention was drawn to the fact that it was quite cold right here close to the window.

Frowning, he pulled at the blanket around his shoulder so he could wrap it and his arm around the lump that was Virgil. He brushed the boy’s hand when he did so and found it was like ice.

“You’re freezing!” Logan said. “How long have you been by the window?”

“I dunno,” he replied.

Logan was already tugging at him. “You need to get back in bed,” he said.

Virgil obeyed the pulling at his arms even as he frowned. “I’ve been colder than this before,” he said.

“That actually doesn’t make me feel better,” Logan replied dryly as he shooed him towards the bed.

He took the thicker blanket that usually stayed folded at the end of the bed and pulled it up over Virgil before climbing into bed beside him.

“There,” Logan said, rubbing Virgil’s arms through the fabric of the sweater he wore to bed. He was glad he wasn’t wearing a t-shirt at least. “The runes for heating the castle should catch up within a few hours, but until then this should do. Assuming we don’t sit by the freezing window for an undetermined amount of time.”

“I don’t like the cold,” Virgil told him.

Logan sighed. “Then why did you sit by the window?”

Virgil shrugged and ducked his head a bit. Logan reached out to grab his hands to help him warm more but was surprised when one of the hands was much warmer than the other. He found his fingers were clutching a crescent shaped stone: the protection charm they’d made. Logan knew that he kept it in his pocket most of the time, but he didn’t normally see him holding it like this. It was warm to the touch, of course, indicating the safety of the room around them.

Logan looked over his face. “Are you…” he said. “Scared of the snow?”

“I don’t like the cold,” he said once again.

“You’re scared of the winter,” Logan concluded. He looked at Virgil who was far too small for his age and seemed surprised at every casual act of kindness. It was clear that his basic needs were far from being met before he came here. Logan had to wonder what winter usually meant for him. His experiences were doubtlessly very different from Logan’s own. “That makes sense,” he acknowledged, “but you don’t need to be scared of it here. The castle is always perfectly warm and safe in the winter and Mr. Deknis and Ms. Heart work hard during the other seasons to make sure we have plenty of food. There is nothing to fear here.”

He did not seem convinced.

“You don’t even have to go outside if you don’t want to,” Logan promised. “The castle is plenty big if you’d like to stay inside all winter long. It was made for the winter even without the magic devices that keep it warm. We have fireplaces and well insulated rooms even if those that ends up failing.” Logan pulled open the hand that had the protection charm just to transfer it to his other hand to warm it. “Though, while no one would force you to go outside, the snow isn’t always bad.”

“Yes it is,” Virgil said, his voice sure.

“Not all the time,” Logan insisted. “Some people love the snow.”

“They’re stupid.”

Logan laughed. “It can be fun for a while with the right equipment if you have someplace to get warm again afterwards. Royal duties slow down during the winter and Patton tends to come up with all sorts of games for both the inside and the outside to pass the time. He’s particularly proficient at snowball fights, at least against me.”

“What’s that?” he asked.

“Play fighting,” Logan answered. “Like pillow fights, but snow.”

“I’ll stick with the pillows,” he replied.

“And then there’s a hill to sled down on the western side of the castle, and people like to build snowmen along the path.”

“What are snowmen?” Virgil asked.

They’re temporary statues made out of packed snow,” Logan explained. “Typically, they’re made of three different sized balls of snow: the largest being the base and the smallest the ‘head’ though there are some variations. After building them one typically decorates them with different articles of clothing and objects found lying around. It’s usually sticks and rocks for the face and then things like extra hats and scarfs for decoration.” He smiled softly. “When my Pa was alive, we used to steal my Dad’s crown and fanciest robes. Sometimes Pa would steal it right off of Dad’s head and we’d run away. We’d find a secluded area of the castle yards and build the biggest snowman we could as quickly as we could before we got caught. He’d usually end up letting us keep the robes, but we’d have to give the crown back since some of the metals in it would rust when wet.”

“That sounds…” Virgil’s nose twitched. “fun if you take away the touching snow part.”

Logan laughed. “It is fun,” he said. “Even with the touching snow part. Though, I admit that some of the ability for it to be entertaining does come from the fact that we could warm up afterwards with ease. You’ll enjoy Patton’s mother’s constant offering of hot chocolate during the season even if you never go outside, I’m sure.”

“Hot chocolate?” Virgil asked intrigued. His dark eyes shone brightly in the little light coming through the window. It was clear he could guess something about the drink just by the name and enjoyed the implications.

Logan smiled fondly. “It is a hot drink,” he explained. “It’s a warm drink made out of milk and chocolate. I can get you some to try in the morning.”

Virgil nodded, eyes still wide with interest.

“For now, we should sleep though,” Logan said. “Are you warm enough? I can get more blankets.”

“I’m fine,” he said.

“Good,” Logan said, reaching up and adjusting the blanket over them once more, tucking it around Virgil a little bit for good measure. “Goodnight Virgil,” he said.

“Goodnight,” he replied softly. Logan reached under the blankets to grab the hand that was still slightly chilly from the window between his own. Virgil’s eyes slipped closed after a moment as he nuzzle his face into the pillow. At some point they both drifted off to sleep.

Chapter 36

Thomas had already been well aware that winter was on the way, but he and the rest of the castle occupants had been surprised at how intensely and suddenly it had come on. Most things were ready for the winter, but not all of them had been initiated. The fireplaces that took some pressure off the castle heating runes were cleaned out and ready, but they hadn’t been started yet. The stables for different animals on the grounds had been checked over and staff assignments had been made, but most were still in far out fields. Staff that went home for the winter months had been dismissed, but there were a few stragglers that would have to be helped home before things got worse.

He’d gone out to the main stable to talk to the three workers that were the heads of different areas of animal husbandry to make sure a plan to get everything to where it needed to be soon was in place. It took a while to figure out considering that they’d expected a little more time before the first major snowfall. Thomas also asked them to make sure all of the workers’ homes were in good enough condition for the weather. Ranch hands typically had homes on castle grounds but not in the castle themselves since they needed to be close to the animals. Thomas knew at least half a dozen of those who spent most of their times out in the fields were the type to forgot to maintain their homes because they preferred camping amongst the animals in the summer months and then would be in for a bad time when snow began to fall.

There should be enough extra rooms in the castle if they needed a place to stay until repairs could be done.

Those conversations took a good couple of hours, before Thomas was satisfied. Before trudging back to the castle through the still falling snow, he made a point to stop at one specific horse stall in the main stable. The horse turned his head to see Thomas when he stopped in front of his stall and puffed out a rather disaffected snort before sticking his head over the gate so Thomas could pat his nose. “Hello, Mr. Apples,” Thomas said.

The horse seemed to conclude he’d tolerated Thomas’s petting enough and ducked his head to nudge at his torso. Thomas rolled his eyes. “Yes, yes,” he said. “I brought you an apple. Some things never change.” He reached into his pocket to grab the red apple he’d brought the white Arabian. “At least you don’t bite me anymore.” He paused, apple slice in hand and eyed the horse’s nose suspiciously. “Do not bite me,” he said even though he hadn’t felt the animal’s teeth in a decade. It would be just like Mr. Apples to wait until his guard was down.

After a bit of scrutiny, he offered an apple slice. It was snatched out of his hand and there was a loud crunch as it was bit into.

“It’s snowing out,” he told the horse. The horse seemed to roll his eyes at the statement of the obvious. “I’ll remind again that if you run out in a snowstorm, I’m not running after you, so you’d be out of luck.”

Mr. Apples snorted.

“You’re old now. You’d probably not survive long enough for people to find you. Besides, you blend in with that white fur of yours. They’d probably walk right past you a few times.”

He went back to nosing for treats as soon as he finished his first and Thomas sighed, pulling out another apple slice. “What are they not feeding you enough?” The gusto with which the horse snatched the apple slice was a very clear answer. “Well, we both know that’s not true.” Thomas fed the horse a third slice of apple when he was done with his second. “I have to get back to the castle now. Don’t be a devil horse.”

Mr. Apples threw his head a bit, splattering apple smelling foamy spittle all over Thomas’s front.

“Understood. Have a nice afternoon.”

He left Mr. Apples in his stall then, knowing he’d be well cared for no matter how ill-tempered he could be at times. He’d been a king’s horse once, after all, no matter that said king had been dead for more than a decade now.

Winters were hard.

Winters were the times when things always slowed down at the castle, where royal duties were often thin. There were a lot of memories in winter.

The trip back to the castle was not particularly long, but it was also not particularly pleasant. The snow had not been cleared away considering it was still snowing which meant his feet and legs were wet and cold by the time he made it to the nearest castle door.

He wasn’t sure if, when he entered, the castle heating runes had started to work in earnest or if he’d just been so cold that any measure of warmth was appreciated, but he was relieved to be out of the snow either way.

He decided to check up on the progress of the castle staff lighting the fireplaces. With any luck, they’d be lit already, and he could warm up even more. That in mind, he headed towards the main foyer where the largest fireplace in the castle sat to take off the chill brought in by the large front doors.

The main foyer was bustling with activity when he snuck in along the sides, giving the guards stationed around nods as he passed. The main fire in the room was burning brightly, though only one of the two smaller ones near the side exits from the room was lit. The other one was still being set up with safety mechanisms. It was good progress and assuming other areas of the castle were being set up as efficiently, he assumed they’d all be set up by nightfall.

He’d need to go check around to be sure, but for now, he walked up to the main fireplace to warm his hands.

He’d gotten into the habit when he was younger to every so often glance upwards. There had been a certain stable boy who had a propensity for climbing trees. These days, he usually found nothing when he did so, often not even consciously noticing that he’d turned his gaze momentarily skywards. Yet, today, he was startled out of his own idleness by dark brown eyes looking back at him from a small ledge in the shadows high above him.

He froze as he met the young boy’s gaze. Virgil seemed as surprised to be caught as Thomas was to have caught him.

#proofread stories #not writing

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choco-mark · 5 years ago

Text

27 May ✹ ♡ boyfriend!jisung ft. annoying mother!jaemin again

a part of the Quarantine Diaries!!

takes place after 2 May

Your eyes came fluttering open, the feeling of being suffocated taking up your entire body as your vision came away from a blur, and your eyes focused on the boy you fell asleep with. Or well, not really the one you had expected. The sight of the familiar frosty hair allowed you to let out a yelp, your body scooting backwards until it hit another’s chest (presumably, your boyfriend, which was correct from the sound of his groan).

Jaemin was laying on the other side of the bed, fast asleep against the pillow that was supposed to be yours. Your hand went to tapping at Jisung’s leg, hip, any part of his body to get his attention until he was whispering your name in that groggy voice of his, and his eyes were widening at the sight of his older member. “Oh my god, Y/N, is that Jaemin?”

“Yeah.”

“What is he doing here?”

“I don’t know.” The two of you paused for a moment, and you turned around slightly, letting your eyes fall on his. Jisung looked visibly tired, probably from how early it still was, but he gave a slight rub to his eyes. “What do we do?”

“Um,” he peeked over your head, “We can either push him off and he’ll fall. Or we can push him off and he’ll fall and everyone else’ll wake up. Or we can push him off and then make a run for it.” You narrowed your eyes. “Don’t look at me like that. The real question is, why is he in our room and specifically, why is he on our bed? I think the perfect solution is to push him the fuck off and see what he does about it.”

You thought back to the night before, which had ended with Jisung falling asleep comfortably with his head nuzzled in your stomach, and you assumed that you had also drifted off eventually. Though, you didn’t remember a wild Jaemin coming into the room, ever. “What if he gets hurt though? The floor is kinda, like, hard.”

“That’s the point. He kinda deserves it for trespassing into forbidden territory.” You snickered at his response, but grabbed his arm as he reached over towards the other boy. “Okay, either I’ll push him off or kick him off. Your choice.” Just as he moved his leg, you brought yours up at the same time, blocking him from getting to Jaemin. “Wow, okay, you’re being difficult.”

“Difficult?!” You gave him a smack to the arm, which was quite loud considering the circumstances of it probably being very early in the morning. “You’re trying to maim your fellow member, and I am merely protecting him!” Jisung rolled his eyes at your words, laying a hand on your waist before squeezing the area, making you tense up. “Jisung!”

“Don’t ‘Jisung’ me,” he bickered back, brushing his bangs away from his eyes as he attempted to launch again. “If you get in my way this time, I’m throwing you out the window in the morning, and that’s a valid threat. I must do this for the greater good.” He didn’t seem so tired any longer when he swung a leg over your own, no longer allowing you to stop him from his attack.

The bed basically bounced at the movement, and you grabbed at his shirt, trying to push him back down. “No! We can just wake him up and civilly tell him to get, um, off the bed. You’re gonna wake up the entire dorm if you push him off.” He gave another roll of his eyes at your words, his face coming dangerous close to yours when you took ahold of his hands again. “Jisung...”

Your words were a warning, realizing the position that he was in at that moment when he chuckled at your flustered expression, leaning to try and press a kiss to your cheek. You, however, successfully dodged it, not wanting to end up locking lips with your boyfriend when his old roommate was nearly inches away. He chased after you, though, the thought forgotten when they landed softly on your own.

“Oh god,” there was a quiet whisper from the side, making the two of you pause for a brief moment to look over at Jaemin, who was laying on his side, watching the two of you. “No, don’t mind me. Continue, just pretend I’m not here. Jisung, you gotta step up your kissing game though, it’s pretty weak.” Your jaw dropped, your face growing hot from the—intrusion, sort of. You turned to the side, avoiding his eyes.

“GET OUT!”

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radbutsafe · 4 years ago

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ALL FUCKIN 35 OF THEM SKLNWESDJFPXO

I SHOULDVE EXPECTED THIS FROM YOU

1. From one to five stars, how would you rate your writing? (No downplaying yourself!)

A three! I think I’m mid range cause I ain’t terrible but there is still shit I gotta improve and grow in my writing

2. Why do you write fanfiction?

to manifest what canon won’t give me and to write more! (though yes it is mainly about the smooching and the— I’ll stop there LOL)

3. What do you think makes your writing stand out from other works?

Hm! My weird research details? I’m that “fun fact, did you know...” in my fics sometimes LOL! I plan on giving a penthouse for erina in a fic and I went through penthouse listings in Japan for floor layouts and locations💀 my research gives me inspo and depth to stuff I think I lack in comparison to others sometimes.

4. Are there any writers that inspire you?

In terms of fellow fic writers, one of them I can’t name here but she’s an inspiration with her exceptional gift for prose period and her lovely skill at comedy! I want to be as funny as her when I write, I love her ironic situational humor. Other fic writers are @takoyakitenchou, @royaldragonsevgisi15 who I always love sharing ideas with and motivate me to create more! For non-fic writers it would be V.E. Schwab, Leigh Bardugo, Oda, and Horikoshi! The last two may be mangaka, however they are writers as well to create their stories! The depth these creators have given their worlds and interesting characters theyve given life to are all what I aspire to be like!

5. What’s the fic you’re most proud of?

so far uh?? hm everything I’m currently writing are wips lol!! im proud of my wip that has been nicknamed ‘soma panics’ that is a multi-chapter fic that spans like probs 20 plus chapters maybe

6. What element of writing do you find comes easily?

dialogue! it’s so much fun! and character thoughts. I’ve said to people I may be better suited for script writing

7. What element of writing do you struggle with most?

I think it’s description, of like setting and showing action. also an expansion of my vocabulary LOL

8. Which character(s) do you find easiest to write?

erina! I think it’s because canon has shown us many of her different faces and range of emotion.

9. Which character(s) do you find most difficult to write?

SOMA!! chill ass mofo whos more carefree compared to the common shonen protagonist! for other shokugeki characters I’m not sure just yet because I haven’t flexed my fingers enough for the rest of them.

10. What’s your favorite genre to write for?

I guess I should say romance cause that’s what I mostly write LOL!

11. Who or what do you find yourself writing about most?

sorina and I try to get them to smooch eventually KEK and yeah it’s..usually romantic fluff lmao

12. Tell us about a WIP you’re excited about.

HONESTLY ALL OF THEM but “soma panics” is my brain child

13. First fandom you ever wrote for?

pretty sure it’s digimon....

14. What’s your favorite fandom to write for?

currently shokugeki no soma!!!!

15. What’s the weirdest fandom you’ve ever written for?

uhhhh I guess SNS? LMAO fandoms...all have their quirks to them.

16. Any guilty pleasure trope(s)?

characters cuddling!!!! or getting the urge to smooch!!!!

17. A trope you’ll never, ever write for.

unrequited love GOOD FUCKIN BYEEEEEE

18. Wildest fic you’ve ever written?

I have plot ideas thst can be wild potentially but so far nothing fits this criteria so far that I actually have written.

19. Do you prefer canon-compliant, AUs, or something in-between?

depends on the fandom, but if written well, all of it!

20. Gen fic or shippy stuff?

shippy 100% like I said I like smoochin

21. Favorite pairing to write for? (platonic or romantic!)

romantic is...*drumroll* SORINA! platonic, soutaku and erina and alice!

22. Do you listen to anything while you write?

Sometimes! There are times songs will be on loop and times I just shuffle a playlist. and if I’m writing in random bursts it’ll be with no music but it really does depend lmao I think music is when I’m forcing myself to write?

23. Do you prefer prompts and challenges, or completely independent ideas?

completely independent ideas, I’ve realized in the past prompts shoot me in the foot often unless I luckily figure something out. but I’m often driven by my own sporadic self interest with shitty ping ponging attention

24. One-shots or multi-chaptered works?

multi-chap I guess cause I can post without being finished LOLLL but tbh can I really answer? I haven’t finished anything.....

25. Have you ever daydreamed about side adventures/spin-offs from your fic? Tell us about them!

I can’t answer this question imo because I haven’t finished a fic yet so technically stuff could all fit in the one fic?

26. Is there anything you’ve wanted to write, but you’ve been too scared to try?

MYSTERY AND CRIME! I love the genre and I have plot ideas once a blue moon but I can’t dive in because I want to make details that work and reduce plot holes where suspension of disbelief isn’t as needed. I need to study it more (I need to study all the details for any of my fics imo to be confident sometimes LOL)

27. What’s the nicest comment you’ve ever received?

I don’t think I can say one comment was the nicest because I’ve gotten comments that have given me quite the smiles to my face many times! I know this is a cop out but it’s true!

IS WHAT I WAS GONNA SAY UNTIL REINA SENT ME THE FOLLOWING ON DISCORD LIKE TWENTY MINS AGO:

and also rad. i am never this vocal about my emotions like EVER but this needs to be said your fics are obviously far from perfect, as are mine and everyone else's. but the thing about your works is that they're so well-sanded that it's impossible to find any rough edges or faults in them in terms of cohesion to a plot. your cast is never OOC and the amount of effort you devote to developing your takes on the characters as accurately as possible is unimaginably awe-inspiring.

BITCH I WANNA CRY 😭

28. How well do you handle criticism when it comes to your writing?

I’d like to believe I take it often well to try and improve because that’s always my goal. if someone is rude lol that’s not constructive snd is unhelpful. If I disagree with criticism I’ll explain why !

29. Have you ever gone outside of your comfort zone for a fic? How did it turn out?

Not yet, but I have some plot ideas I think will let me test this.

30. Tooth-rotting fluff or merciless angst?

F L U F F.

31. Do you have any OCs? Tell us about them!

elliott fuji, a japanese-american award winning photographer who is erina’s boyfriend in ‘soma panics’ which..causes soma’s panic LOL he’s 30 with slightly wavy black hair. I still haven’t pinpointed his personality just yet...he kind of humble brags for sure an artsy fucker and flirts maybe I’ll make him a lil shy though. he teaches sometimes, and becomes an adjunct photography professor in Tokyo so he can be with erina.

32. Summarize a random fic of yours in 10 words or less.

a cook is unfashionably late in realizing his feelings.

33. Is there anything you wish your audience knew about your writing or writing process?

I am a slow. so slow. motivation who is she? I also write out of order, unfortunately a bit too often.

34. Copy and paste an excerpt you’re particularly fond of.

this should be for the fic ‘soma panics’ it’s either megumi or satoshi talkin to him rn, I’m leaning towards satoshi

“You thought she would always wait for you, didn’t you Soma-kun? To always welcome you home.”

Soma drags his palms down his face and groans. He doesn’t like this at all. He doesn’t shy from confrontation but this is a whole different ballgame. Soma doesn’t play any ball.

“I guess..?” Is his reply, because he thinks he isn’t sure how to answer that.

“You guess?”

Just being questioned again is enough to crack Soma’s pathetic facade as if it was dropped chinaware and he lets out the longest sigh.

“No.”

Coming home means coming home to Nakiri Erina too.

Nakiri Erina is his forever.

this is @takoyakitenchou’s excerpt she’s most proud of that I’ve written, which is also from you guessed it, the long fic soma panics

SOMA: I am, I mean I will be, I swear I will always come home to you, not spend as much time abroad, once I’m done with work I’ll come right back. I’ll make sure to message you. Nakiri, I’m in love you with you. Maybe for a really long time. You know how I say I dedicate my food to you? My dad—my dad said that the key to become a good chef is to find someone to dedicate your cooking to. A special someone. For my dad it was my mom, you know? For me it’s...

(this is a good piece of dialogue tbh so I am also proud of this)

35. Ramble about any fic-related thing you want!

I’ve mentioned it throughout this but the WIP I’ve nicknamed ‘soma panics’ is something I’m super excited to write, but it’s going on slowly...and almost completely out of order. out of all of my writing it showed off that particular habit of mine, along with “what is this, a shoujo manga?!” though the latter is currently being written chronologically now that I’ve posted chapter one and is pretty solid in direction. it was originally supposed to be a one shot but I got impatient and wanted to post at least something for the sorina / soueri fandom.

however, because ‘soma panics’ (I won’t call it that LOL) is my baby I want to keep true to my rule of refusing to post it until I have a draft of the entire fic finished and I’m satisfied with the main points pretty much. due to my writing out of order, I’m worried I’ll change my mind about scenes or want to reflect things in earlier chapters for later ones etc etc

I joined the SnS fandom extremely late, as season five was airing. I was a fan of the manga five years ago and dropped it because I forgot to check for updates when I caught up 😔 I really want to bang out the different fics and aus for sorina that I have before the fandom fizzles out entirely but tbh I’m writing for myself, I’m manifesting what I want to see and I’ll just share it with all my friends to read if no one else will. cause I’m slow broski I dunno what writing fast even is like LMAO I do really want to write faster though, so I can contribute more and let the words free from the discord dms....

#ask meme #ask rad shit #writing #writing by rad #fanfic #reina girl u put me thru it I swear lol #thank u for sending!!#ur amazing!!!!

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hunnybby · 4 years ago

Text

title: tally marks

pairing: yaku morisuke x fem reader

genre: general/fluff

word count: 3,200+

warnings: mentions of alcohol

a/n: happy late bday yaku! written for the HaikyuuCreations MPE August Event. prompt below:

2. International Hangover Day — August 8th is International Hangover Day, just a day after International Beer Day. The day previously was such a blast, though anyone can hardly remember it, but now your characters are suffering the consequences.

Time: August 7 on Friday, 20:17 PM Location: The bar, a few blocks down from the office Yaku’s Stats: Shots- 0, Beer- 0

“Just go inside, Yaku,” you plead, pushing your co-worker towards the door of the bar.

The bouncer eyes you both as you take Yaku’s wallet from his pants pocket, sliding out his ID and placing both yours and his in the palms of the man acting as a barrier between you and a few drinks and some dancing. With a nod, he hands the ID’s back, and moves a bit so that you could squeeze by, a passing “Happy birthday” coming from him. Yaku ignores it, thinking to himself that his birthday is the next day so he shouldn’t have to say thank you.

He hates his birthday. But every year since the year you met him, you’ve insisted on celebrating his birthday. And every year since the year you met him, he’s agreed (even if it was after hours of you whining that birthday’s only come once a year and you’ll only be this age once!).

But when you make your way towards the counter, and he hears you order two shots of vodka and a pineapple juice chaser for you to share, his eyes widen and he shakes his head abruptly. “Absolutely not,” he tells you, backing up slowly before bumping into a man dancing his butt off. “No shots. We have work tomorrow.”

You don’t look at him, but he sees you raise an eyebrow. “Oh? No work tomorrow?” you question, your tone dancing between curious and mock-disbelief.

His shoulder’s drop, he feels defeated. “Yes.”

You give a polite nod to the bartender and slide Yaku his shot, setting the pineapple chaser in between you two, “Tell me, Yaku, what day of the week is it today?”

The day dawns on him, and he runs his freehand down his features, “Friday.”

You give him a toothy smile, “Friday. Just this one shot, and a few beers and we can get out of here, yeah? It’s a double celebration- International Beer Day and Yaku Morisuke’s birthday!” you suggest, raising your glass to him, waiting for the clink. And when he taps his shot glass to yours, you cheer and the night finally begins.

Time: August 8 on Saturday, 11:27 AM Location: Your living room floor

Yaku jolts up from the sound of a toilet flushing, and he regrets this action immediately. He has a headache- the annoying kind. The one that he knows he will linger throughout most of the day. He has a funny feeling in his stomach- nausea. His entire body aches.

He’s thankful that the room is still dark, thankful that he decided to buy those blackout shades to keep the daylight out- wait.

He doesn’t have blackout sheets. And if his memories serve him right, he doesn’t remember getting an extra firm mattress.

“Hey, birthday boy,” you drone with a hoarse voice. He can tell that whatever he’s feeling, you’re feeling too. Your footsteps sound slow and methodical- you probably don’t have any contacts or glasses on. “Sorry my floors not too comfortable, but you wouldn’t let me take you to bed,” you say, handing him a glass of water.

He doesn’t have the energy to flush, but your words are embarrassing him. “Don’t say things like that.” He takes the water, and chugs it down immediately. And immediately, he regrets it. His stomach is telling him to drink things slower. “Thanks for letting me crash here.”

You sit on your couch and tuck your legs under you. You look down at Yaku, who has already positioned himself back comfortably on your floor. “Do you remember what happened last night?” you question him, a sly smile gracing your lips. “Or do you want me to tell you?”

Yaku makes a face, and looks up at the ceiling fan. What did he do last night? He doesn’t remember much- the last thing he really remembers is you challenging him, saying that you could match whatever he drinks.

Time: August 7 on Friday, 20:43 PM Location: The bar, a few blocks down from the office Yaku’s Stats: Shots- 1, Beers- 2

“It’s a marathon not a race, idiot,” Yaku scolds you, speech not yet slurred. But that red fanning his face is a dead giveaway that he’s about to have some fun real soon. “Besides, I’m bigger than you. I’d drink you under the table.”

You laugh and can’t help but agree with him, “I guess you’re right. But you aren’t that much bigger than me. I bet I could match you if I tried.”

The strawberry blond (in your head, you’re thinking ��the cutest strawberry blond’) takes another swig of his beer of choice. “Don’t,” he sets his beer down. “I don’t wanna carry you out of here.”

He misses the way that your eyes travel to his beer. The smile on your face grows a bit wider, “How about we just drink like normal people do then? To you, Yaku!”

Time: August 8 on Saturday, 11:36 AM Location: Your living room floor

You push your glasses up the bridge of your nose. “You didn’t do anything embarrassing,” you admit, “but I wish you did!”

Yaku groans, and the small action is still enough to exacerbate the banging he’s feeling on his head. “So, we had a few beers- that’s it right? That doesn’t explain why I can’t remember anything.”

“I had a few beers. You had a few more than I did.” You gesture towards Yaku’s arm, and he has to bring his arm up to his face because he can’t bear to move his head right now.

“It was pretty impressive- the way you just put it all away so fast.”

Time: August 7 on Friday, 21:01 PM Location: The bar, a few blocks down from the office Yaku’s Stats: Shots- 1, Beers- 3

You watch Yaku finish his beer, chugging it down and taking his lips away with a satisfying ‘ah!’

Your eyes light up, and you take a sharpie out of your purse, “I have an idea.” Before Yaku can ask, you’re grabbing his arm and rolling up his sleeves, “Let’s see how much you can drink.” He feels the tingle of contact when you glide the sharpie on his skin, drawing four tick marks.

He’s at the stage of tipsy where he doesn’t mind that you’re in his personal bubble. “That’s a stupid idea,” he fights, but he doesn’t pull away. “You’ll forget to mark it. Probably be too busy dancing.”

“Not if you agree to dance with me,” you wink at him.

Time: August 8 on Saturday, 12:52 PM Location: Your kitchen

“Do you take your coffee with anything? Cream, sugar, or whatever?” you ask, shuffling through your pantry and fridge while the coffee brews. It probably has another minute or two before it’s ready.

The good thing is, Yaku has finally dragged himself up and to your kitchen. The brightness in your kitchen, however, is not doing him any favors. If anything, it makes the banging in his head louder, harder. He thinks that maybe sugar will make him feel sicker. “I’ll take it black.”

“Suit yourself, then.” You sneak some sugar and milk into your coffee cup before pouring the coffee in.

You settle the coffee in front of him, and he gladly takes it. The smell alone helps the drums diminuendo slightly. “That doesn’t sound bad, but I still can’t remember. Are these tally marks even accurate?”

You roll your eyes. “I may not work in the finance department, but I know how to count.”

Time: August 7 on Friday, 22:14 PM Location: The bar, a few blocks down from the office – the dance floor Yaku’s Stats: Shots- 1, Beers- 5

“Stop being so stiff!” you cackle, hunching over slightly to hold your sides. Everyone knows Yaku isn’t the best dancer, but you’ve never seen it in real time. “It looks like you’re doing the robot.”

You think he’s still okay but the droopiness of his eyelids and the slur in his speech tells you otherwise. “I don’t dance, Y/N,” he says again for what feels like the 30th time tonight.

He puts his hands on your hips in an attempt to steady you. “Let’s go sit back down, I feel goofy,” he replies into your ear. If it weren’t for the loud music and the way he breath smells like beer, you would have swoon. But your skin still feels hot under his touch. The bodies around you aren’t helping, either.

You think you want to run your hands through his hair, but instead your hands find his tie and you loosen it up for him. You hesitate for a split second before deciding to also unbutton the first button of his shirt. Your hands hover over the second button, but you push that option from your mind. He needs to relax, but you don’t think he’d be comfortable with an undone shirt.

“Just hang onto me,” you instruct next, bringing his hands slightly higher so they rest right above your hips. “And move!”

Time: August 8 on Saturday, 12:57 PM Location: Your kitchen

Of course, you leave out the part where his hands are on you. You can tell him that later, when he isn’t feeling like dying. But you make a theatrical reenactment to show his moves.

His eyes mimic saucers. “You got me to the dance floor?” He leans back on the chair, and uses one hand to cover his eyes. “Why? How?”

You shrug, hiding your coy smile behind your cup as you take another sip of coffee. “You seemed to enjoy it though.”

He’s shaking his head. “I rarely enjoy dancing.” He leans forward again, taking another gulp of coffee.

The caffeine seems to be helping, and he’s learned his lesson from the water that he shouldn’t be inhaling his drinks. It won’t do him any good. But, he feels less nauseous the more he drinks, and he’s grateful that he’s in your apartment and not in his. He knows he would have spent a little longer laying around moping.

“You really just danced,” you tap on your chin, thinking about the night and his actions, “and you were having a good time!” As an afterthought, you add, “We should’ve invited our coworkers.”

Time: August 7 on Friday, 22:30 PM Location: The bar, a few blocks down from the office – the dance floor Yaku’s Stats: Shots- 1, Beers- 5.5

Yakus’ tie is completely gone now, lost in the depths of your purse. The grip around your upper waist tightens just a bit, bringing you closer to him. You look up at him expectantly. And you think that maybe you’re too easy to read when you’ve also had a few drinks, because even inebriated Yaku can tell you’re thinking about something.

He looks around briefly, then settles his eyes on you once again. “People keep bumping into us. It’s better if we stay close,” and the Cheshire-like smile you sported when you took your first shot is now making an appearance on Yaku’s lips. “Is this okay?”

You nod dumbly, swallowing hard and clinging onto him even harder. The atmosphere takes another shift when you find yourself laughing again as he swings you both around in a clumsy stilled-tango, “Why’re you still so awkward?! Move your feet!”

He lets go of you then, then starts exaggerating his movements. “Like this?” He’s flailing his arms and flapping his feet. He whacks a guy behind him, but he’s probably as lost as Yaku and doesn’t react negatively in the slightest.

You grab his hands, holding them to his sides and dragging him away from the dance floor, “That was perfect! I have another idea now.”

He lets himself be led by you, freeing himself from your grasp to down the rest of his beer.

Time: August 8 on Saturday, 13:16 PM Location: Your kitchen

“You kinda looked like a chicken,” you point out, grabbing the empty cups and setting them in your sink, running the water to begin washing them right away. “It was cute.” Then, after a second to think about it, “It was like watching a toddler learn how to move their limbs for the first time.”

He pouts. This does nothing to help his case. Then, looks at his arm again. “So why does my arm have 8 marks?”

You rinse the dish soap off the last cup you are washing and roll your eyes in what you think is a playful manner. “Because we took one more shot. Duh.”

He raises an eyebrow, trying so hard to remember last night. “We did?”

The sound of dishes clicking together on the drying rack fill the air as you place them carefully next to each other. You grab the nearest kitchen towel to wipe down at your counter and your sink. “But just one more.”

Time: August 7 on Friday, 22:30 PM Location: The bar, a few blocks down from the office – the dance floor Yaku’s Stats: Shots- 1, Beers- 6

“Two birthday shots!” you shout out to the bartender, waving your arms to grab their attention. Yaku stands behind you, waving his arms in sync with you. His other hand somehow finds its way to your waist again, but you don’t mind. Your mind drifts to the thought of having his hand there forever, and you smile harder.

“Last one?” you ask, bringing your shot glass up to him as an offering.

“Last one,” he replies, bringing his glass up to yours before downing the shot in one go. It’s sweet, but Yaku still makes a face from the taste. “Remind me to never take that shot ever again,” he says, placing the glass on the table and leaving his hand there for support. “It’s too sweet.”

“You’re sweet,” you say as a way to insult him.

And when you’re stumbling out of the bar at 23:00 PM (too early, you think. But it’s been awhile since you’ve even been out), you have Yaku clinging to your arm as you squint your eyes to look out for your Lyft drive.

“You’re sweet, too, I guess,” he mumbles, more to the ground than to you. And it takes you a moment to realize that he was responding to your earlier comment.

The cool breeze of the night helped with the warmth you felt on your skin, but it’s all been for naught with his comment. Now, you feel the heat come back.

A quick glance at your phone shows you that your driver is 2 minutes away. This gives you enough time to position Yaku straight (or as straight as he could possibly stand). “You don’t know what you’re saying right now, Yaku,” you grin at him. He still isn’t looking at you.

“You’re very pretty. Sometimes I go to the payroll office to see you. I know you hide by the printers there,” he admits.

You bite your lip. “That’s sweet, but please don’t tell anyone where I hide.”

“And I really…” he trails off, the sentence mixing with the breeze you feel.

This piques your interest, so you turn to him. And he’s finally looking at you again. “Really…” he continues.

But your Lyft arrives.

And Yaku upchucks on the ground.

Luckily, it doesn’t get on you. And luckily it doesn’t get in the Lyft either. It’s better he lets it out now. You wouldn’t want to ask him for $300 on his birthday.

Time: August 8 on Saturday, 13:24 PM Location: Your living room couch

Of course, you leave out where he compliments you before he blows chunks. That is also something you can tell him later on. But you don’t leave off the chunks part.

He’s groaning next to you, his left knee slightly brushing your right knee as you both sit cross-legged on the couch. “I threw up? In front of you?” He looks at his arm again, “I didn’t even have that much to drink.”

“You drank it so fast- guess you were sprinting, rather than marathon-ing,” you chuckle, repositioning and bringing your knees close to your chest. “But, you got it on the ground! I think I would’ve killed you if you threw up in the Lyft.”

And you both sit in silence for a bit, basking in it. Yaku especially, since his headache is finally going away completely. Something about your apartment is helping him through this hangover. He thinks that maybe it’s because of your blinds. He really needs to get some. Maybe he’ll ask you where you got yours later.

“So, what do you wanna do for your birthday?” you ask. Somewhere in the quiet, you’ve shifted your body, resting your back on the armrest of your couch with your feet at his thigh, pushing slightly to catch his attention. “We can get some brunch? Mimosas?” you joke, lips curling upwards when Yaku makes a disgusted face.

He can’t even think of alcohol right now. He might drink too fast again. “Absolutely not. We celebrated last night, didn’t we?”

“Stay then,” you offer sheepishly, “I’ll order food and we can watch a movie.”

Time: August 7 on Friday, 22:42 PM Location: The Lyft, on your way to your apartment Yaku’s Stats: Shots- 1, Beers- 6

Yaku fights, not wanting to crash at anyone else’s place. “I wanna go home. I want my bed,” he slurs, clinging to the passenger door and clicking the window button up and down. He doesn’t know if he wants cool, fresh air or warm, car air. Maybe he should ask you to ask the driver to turn on the AC.

“You can go home tomorrow. Crash at my place,” you tell him again for the 3rd time. “I live closer anyway. You don’t want to do a sleepover with me?”

He snorts, “Are we in middle school?”

You look out your window to keep yourself from smiling to hard at him. You don’t think you’ve ever seen him this drunk; you also don’t think you’ve ever seen him drink so fast.

“It’ll be fun,” the car stops in front of your apartment building, “come on. You can take my bed.” You tug at Yaku’s arm and let him sling it over you.

“Will you be there, too?”

As appealing as that sounds, you shake your head. “I can take the couch.”

He visibly pouts, jutting his lips out to exaggerate his disappointment.

It’s a struggle to get the key into the door, but when you finally do, Yaku makes his way straight to your couch. He doesn’t land perfectly, because you see him slowly roll off to the ground. You have to stifle a laugh when he starts snoring immediately.

You stare at him a bit, deciding if you should wake him up, drag his limp body to the comfort of your bed, or just leave him there on your floor. Ultimately, it’s better to not touch someone who’s knocked out within seconds.

You open your mouth to say something, but shut it after. There’s no way he’d be able to hear you saying thank you. You’ll wait until the morning to bother him again.

tagging: @kingkags

#haikyuucreations #haikyuucreations 0820 #yaku morisuke #yaku x reader #haikyuu!!#hq #my fic #happy bday yaku!!!

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dazed--xx · 5 years ago

Text

Alone

REQUEST: *Hi see you mentioned about story requests. I'm having a hard time since I'm currently pregnant and my partner walked out on me, so could you do one when Jungkook where I meet Jungkook and he helps me raise the baby please*

Summary: “I'm pregnant Jungkook.” the line goes dead silent “look before you say anything, no I wasn’t hiding this from you and I completely understand if you don’t want to talk to me shit I wouldn’t want to talk to me and move on to someone who is not pregnant and going to be having this type of responsibilities-” “Y/N-”

GENRE: Mild-Angst, Fluff

Member: Jungkook x Pregnant!reader

Word count: 2,132

A/N: so this is literally my first fanfic ever and i hope you guys like it. and to the person that requested this I wanted to tag you because i did post it but i didnt want to kind of call you out online especially since this was based on something you have personally happening to you, trust me pregnancy is scary let alone having to go it alone so if you need someone to talk to im here btw.. but hopefully you guys like this it was pretty good i wanna post a couple of requests a day since i banged this out as quickly as i did im taking more requests just inbox me or go to my ask let me know if you want your name attached to the request and i will send everyone that i know requested a specific story i will tag and send it to you so you know it is done but without further ado ALONE

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“Where are you going? Do you really expect me to do this alone?” I shouted to the already abandoned house. A swell in my throat rises and I can't breathe. My body shakes as the tears take over. I fall to my knees running my hand over my stomach. “Don’t you worry baby; Daddy will be back he loves you I promise” I say to the life growing within my womb.

The warmth from the comforter consumes me as I awaken with dried tears in my eyes. My heart aches as I remember the events from the past 12 hours. The thick silence takes hold of my heart and it begins racing. My heart beat sounding as if it is being played on a speaker the size of a skyscraper. Feeling the bile rise in my throat, rushing to the bathroom, I empty out the contents of my stomach. Tears escape my eyes as I reach out to the void. I'm alone truly.

My first OBGYN appointment rolls around and my heart is in my stomach. The nurse escorts me in, slowly my feet turn into lead as I drag myself onto the cot in the room and lay back facing the monitor. Once I feel that cool gel upon my stomach, my heart settles and the most beautiful BUMP BUMP BUMP is heard throughout the room. My eyes focus on the image in front of me. “well congrats sweetie you're about 10 weeks, Due September 27. Remember no stress and make sure to take your prenatal. We’ll see you next week” My ultrasound technician announces excitedly. I smile anxious as to what I should do next.

I make my way to a small café after my appointment wanting a small tea to calm my nerves. Looking around the coffee shop I notice quite the crowd and my panic begins to set in. It feels like I can't breathe while the crowds begin to grow as the café reaches the brink of rush. More and More people pour through the door as my anxiety takes over and I feel the bile rising again, I abandon my spot in line trying to make it to the restroom before I release the contents of my stomach all over the café floor. The restroom door becomes the only thing in sight to me as I dash for it. I reach for the handle and the door opens and I slam into a hard chest and soon I am on the floor.

“HOLY CRAP!!! IM SO SORRY I WAS NOT PAYING ATTENTION” A angelic voice apologized above me. My eyes drift from the floor up to see the most amazing man I've ever seen in my life with his hand out and my voice gets caught in my throat. I stare at him for a while capturing every detail of his face and take his hand. I nod quickly and mutter a fast “Sorry” and dash around the beautiful man and lose myself behind the safety of the door. I was dreading walking back out into the craziness of the café, but excited to see if I could once again get a glimpse of the gorgeous man from before.

Soon I am back in line and order my tea, when a familiar voice sounds from next to me “You know.... you should let me pay you back for your drink you know...since I hurt you” Shocked I turn my head to see the same beautiful man from before. “Oh, please don’t worry about it I really wasn’t paying attention either it's not a big deal” I smile shyly. “Besides I'm sure you have better things to do with your time than to buy a stranger a drink” He laughs “Honestly, Beautiful, I don’t really have anything to do with my time that doesn’t involve getting to know you” Heat creeps up to my face and I lower my gaze and smile. “I don’t need you to pay me back for my tea for you to be able to get to know me, but unfortunately I gotta go” I say slowly moving past him. “At least let me get your number...please” He asked “You don’t even know my name and you want my number?” “Hey I know what I want and I feel like me knowing your name won't matter much cause I probably won't be calling you anything other than mine” I let out a small giggle “ that was super corny but since you're trying so hard give me your phone” I put my number in his phone and hand it back to him and walk toward the door “By the way my name is Y/N” as I make my exit I hear him shout back “Jungkook!”

As the weeks pass, I find myself talking more and more to Jungkook. He still hasn’t stopped flirted with me as much as he did that day in the café but we talk everyday about almost everything and I can't help but feel scared to tell him I am having a baby. What would he say? Will he not want to talk to me anymore? Would he not like me as much? A loud RING pulls me out of my thoughts as my phone lights up with Jungkook's name and photo comes up on my screen.

“Hey, what's up cutie?” He says excitedly

“Not much, just lying in bed not feeling too good today” I respond pouty

“Aw, do you need anything? Medicine? I can bring you soup it'll make you feel better I know you said you went out with your friend last night are you hungover?” The worry evident in his voice.

“Um honestly no um I can't drink so I'm definitely not hungover just different I know what it is though I'll be fine” the nervousness in my voice is evident

“what's wrong then beautiful? Is everything okay?” Oh no... not that question. He’s worried and I know he is but I don’t know what to say. I can't stop it the words just rush out of my mouth like the bile I throw up every morning

“I'm pregnant Jungkook....I'm 14 weeks pregnant” the line goes dead silent “look before you say anything, no I wasn’t hiding this from you and I completely understand if you don’t want to talk to me shit I wouldn’t want to talk to me and move on to someone who is not pregnant and going to be having this type of responsibilities-” “Y/N-” No listen Kookie cause I really like you and I didn’t mean to keep this from you I was just scared that you would hate me” “Y/N-” “I mean I know you just met me a couple weeks ago and it wouldn’t mean much for you to just walk away from this because let's be honest who wants to deal with that-” “Y/N! JUST STOP AND LISTEN PLEASE!” The words stop flowing as quickly as they began.

“Do you think id stop liking you because of the simple fact that you're pregnant, I mean yeah it does suck that you're going to have someone else's baby but I don’t care about that... WAIT! Is that why your ex left?” I stay silent

“Baby....are you there?” He asks worried.

“Baby girl???”

“Beautiful are you okay? Hello?”

I sniffle “Yeah I’m here sorry” my voice cracks at every word.

“Baby are you crying? Do you need me to get you anything?”

“No, I'm fine I promise I'm going to go to bed okay? Goodnight handsome I'll talk to you in the morning” “wait what no I'm com-” I cut him off to end the already overwhelming call. My vision blurs as the tears cascade down my face and I let out a harsh sob. I was scared for nothing or he's just too optimistic. A loud knock on the door grabs my attention.

“who is it?” fear leaking out in my tone. “Baby it's me open up” I hear Jungkook's melodic voice through the door. Quickly I swing the door open to be greeted with the man I've grown so accustomed to in the past few weeks. Taking in the sight of him my heart begins to race as the tears began to no longer form. He reaches his arms around me and pulls me against him. “Baby girl, why didn’t you tell me sooner? You really thought that would make me just leave. How could I do that when in the past few weeks, you’ve stolen my heart” He looks at me and there's a hunger in his eyes as they shift down to my lips. “aww fuck it” he exclaims as his lips capture mine. His arms wrap around my waits as my hands get lost in his soft midnight hair. After a while he pulls away and a small whimper is released from my mouth. “Do you know HOW long I've wanted to do that” he exclaims excitedly with a smile plastered across his face.

After that night Jungkook never left my side, everything I craved he got, Anytime I felt nauseous Jungkook was there. It became routine with him his calls became more frequent on days he knew I had appointments and he went to every ultrasound. His excitement for my baby was shown one day when I came home from work and my whole apartment was filled top to bottom with diapers bottles and wipes. Jungkook was still too nervous to buy much because he felt he was taking part of the experience from me and the fact that we still don’t know what the baby is yet. As the date rolls around to the appointment it's all Jungkook can talk about. He wants a girl every five seconds he reminds me it's always “Baby do you think the princess will like me? I mean I want her to know I care and that I love you” which is why he was so heartbroken when he could not make it to the gender reveal appointment because of a last-minute practice session. “Please promise to call me right after you find out okay baby?” He begs sadly before he left for the morning.

After the appointment my heart swelled with joy as I turned into my driveway to see Jungkook's car sitting there. As soon as I unlocked the door, I felt a pair of strong arms wrap around my waist and feel kisses peppered up my neck “Hey, Baby how did your appointment go? How are you feeling?” he says in-between kisses. A blush creeps up onto my face “Yeah, it went great baby is a growing good and healthy, so I have to tell you something” I state biting my bottom lip and looking toward the ground.

“Oh god what's wrong? Is our princess okay?” his use of the word our makes my heart skip a beat “OUR? And the baby is fine....” I look at him pointedly and his hand runs through his hair as his face turns beet red as he slowly stutters out “I mean....um... I'm sorry I didn’t mean to just assume that you wanted me involved but it's so hard not to be when I'm so in love with you that I don’t care if I wasn’t the one that got you pregnant that’s my baby and you’re my girl so yeah our.... so, what is you have to tell me?” I kiss him softly at his words. I beam at him “You're literally so amazing I can't believe you would even consider any of this I know it's a lot to ask for someone to be involved with someone who is pregnant and all I appreciate it baby BUT unfortunately it's not a princess we got blessed with, handsome” as I put his hand on my stomach and his face twists into confusion “what do you-WAIT! IT’S A BOY? FORREAL? IT’S A BOY?” the smile cannot be contained on his face as he comes to the realization.

"Yes, it’s a boy” I state as Jungkook lifts and twirls me around I laugh.

Jungkook happily exclaims “Oh my god, I'm gonna have a son.” Jungkook drops to his knees and places his hand on my stomach and softly speaks “Hey handsome, its daddy, no I'm not your real daddy baby but I'm going to love you and your mommy like I am. I can't imagine a world without you I can't wait to meet you”

I stand there smiling knowing.......Jungkook won’t ever leave me alone

#bts imagines #btsjungkook #jungkook angst #jungkook fluff #bts angst #bts fluff #bts request #bts x reader

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gloves94 · 4 years ago

Text

To Be So Lonely [Draco Malfoy] 27

Rating: M Pairings: Draco Malfoy/OC Chapter warnings: Numb! Suicide Thoughts! Verbal Abuse!

CHAPTER MASTERLIST

MY MASTER-LIST

“And then? What happened?”

“Nothing,” The girl shrugged her shoulders as she sat on the floor of the greenhouse surrounded by growing vines leaning her back on a wooden table on which dozens of colorful pots which held some strange and most peculiar plants. “I told them about it.”

“My father will hear about this!” Daphne paced around the Slytherin Common Room late one night. “He’ll know what to do,” She said referring to the fact that her father was a fearsome prosecutor in the Wizarding World.

Normally Tracey would’ve made a joke of Daphne sounding like Malfoy, but it really wasn’t the time or place. The Quidditch fanatic was sitting with her head ducked in between her hands.

“Don’t. There’s no point,” Nel let out a drained and exhausted sigh. “Ellar Lestrange is practically ‘untouchable.’”

“Why is he?” Tracey suddenly snapped her nostrils flaring as she sat up erect. “Why is he so damn godly and untouchable? Just because he’s a Lestrange?” She spat out the last name with resentful bitterness.

“We have to do something,” Daphne insisted. “If not, he’s going to do the same thing- perhaps, something worse to somebody else,” she stressed the somebody and the importance of holding him accountable for his assault.

Despite Daphne’s insistence and Tracey’s frustration Nel remained silent. She had her knuckles pressed to her lips and she seemed lost in thought, head pessimistically shaking slightly from side to side.

“What can we do?” She gave them both a defeated look. She really had turned ever nut in bolt in her head endlessly trying to think of a way to even things out – even a way to hurt Ellar Lestrange.

“Please,” Tracey scoffed, dark eyes rolling. “Everybody has a weakness. We just have to find out what his is!” She said determined, her expression mimicking her friend who was sitting next to her in the black leather sofa.

“Yes,” Daphne began murmuring. “Yes, yes, yes…” She anxiously paced over, and over which made Elowen dizzy. It seemed like the lightbulb went off when she finally stopped and clapped her hands together. “I’ll write to my cousin in France. Perhaps she knows a thing or two.”

“I’ve also written to Professor Lupin. Maybe he knows a thing or two as well.”

“Lupin?” Daphne wrinkled her nose in distaste at the werewolf. Why? Her knitted brow said. Nel ignored it.

“A werewolf? Teaching?” Nathair interrupted. “Filthy,” He hissed. “I’ve seen them, lost packs hunting together in the Forbidden Forest. Formidable creatures.”

Irritated Nel lightly flicked the tip of the snake’s snout. The adder hissed at her in response flashing its large fangs. She seemed unfazed by this gesture. “Most creatures seem to agree with me.” It spoke to her as it coiled around her neck seeking the warmth of her human body.

“Professor Lupin is a good person. He could be a vampire for all I care.”

“Walking leeches,” The adder added to the bloodsucking creatures.

“What if I was a werewolf?” She mused more to herself with her arms crossed and resting on her knees. “Maybe then I’d have a pack to run around with,” her voice dulled into a pessimistic feeling as the waves of loneliness and missing a family that there never was came. “I also am already formidable.”

“Oh, I know what are,” The serpent whispered in her ear.

Upset, lost in thought Nel dusted the dirt of her clothes and left the greenhouse with the snake snuggly coiled around her neck. Her shoulders were pessimistically slung. She rounded behind the greenhouses and sat behind them on a small grassy hill that overlooked the Whomping Willow and Hagrid’s Hut and pumpkin patch. The Forbidden Forrest bordered in the distance. “What do you think I am?” She asked solemnly fisting some grass in her hand and ripping it up from the ground. She met the adder’s beady red eyes with a profound sadness. It seemed like the more she dug into her past, the more she questioned and wished to know who her family had been or if she still had one the worse things got and the uglier her past appeared to be. Perhaps… it was best this way. Perhaps there had been a reason for her abandonment at Wool’s Orphanage all of those years ago.

“You’re just a silly little girl who’s afraid of water with too much time to spare. Shouldn’t you be reading? Or doing somebody else’s schoolwork?”

“I hate reading,” She huffed humorously. Maybe Nathair was right, maybe she should use her time wisely and continue working on other’s assignments. After all the more financial cushion she had the better for the future. Inhaling a deep breath, she held it for a moment before ripping a strand of weeds rather aggressively and releasing the blades of grass for the wind to carry. “Maybe you’re right. You’re a snake and have always been a snake and I’m just a stupid girl and I’ll always be a stupid girl.” Nathair’s loud hiss made her head rapidly tilt to the side.

“Self-depreciation does not suit you,” it advised.

Rising to her feet again Nel rose and brushed the few strands of greenery in her hands.

“Terribly hiding spot if you ask me,” A familiar voice broke the momentary peace. The snake hissed slightly at it and hid its head and tail inside the student’s sweater and underneath her coat. “It’s that boy that looks like there’s something stuck up his-,” the snake whispered into her ear. She ignored it. “Maybe it’s all that cologne he wears. I can smell him from a mile away.”She ignored Nathair’s comment, no matter how humorous she found it.

“If I was hiding you wouldn’t find me,” She shot back at Draco without missing a beat.

He stood a couple of feet away with his hands sank into the pockets of his dark coat. Hair parted on the side, bangs falling across his forehead. “You’ve been avoiding me,” he said his lips twisting into a frown.

Not a lie.

Her frown turned into a scowl as she marched past him. Or at least attempted to.

“I don’t understand why you’re so damn upset,” He followed his temper quickly flaring in frustration.

Not wanting to engage she walked away from him. After being on the verge on an ongoing identity crisis that seemed to be reoccurring every couple of months, she really wasn’t in the mood to argue.

“Nel, come on,” He implored. He stopped following when he realized she wasn’t going to stop in her step. “You’re not a mudblood.”

Halting she turned and zeroed in on him with a deathly glare.

“I’m going to bite him.”

“Would it matter?” She snapped furiously at his filthy comment. “What?” He looked startled at her sudden rage. “Would it matter if I was?” She marched up to him. “Would it make any difference to you if I was a muggle or mudblood or whatever disgusting and prejudiced, racist, narrow-minded spat of a word you use to call these people?”

He looked startled at her question. “Of course, it would,” He admitted with narrowed eyes looking at her as if she had just grown a second head. She was questioning an ideology that was deeply rooted inside of him. The Malfoy family, like many others privileged wizard families, had reaped and sowed from with their elitism in the Wizarding World. It was a dangerous ideology that had been planted in his young brain and nurtured to grow into a toxic vine that seemed to both wrap and stretch to ensnare every aspect of his life.

She pursed her lips and slowly nodded her head understanding, “Right.”

“But you’re not,” He insisted arching his eyebrows. “You’re a Parselmouth, you’ve clearly got some wizarding blood in you.”

She opened her mouth ready to protest that the status of her genealogy was absolutely nonexistent.

“I don’t understand why you’re so angry.” He was sincerely flabbergasted.

“I don’t understand why you hate them so much,” She shook her head just as perplexed. “What did they ever do to you?”

She stepped closer still looking at him in disbelief waiting for a logical reasoning to his rooted prejudice.

“Well, the other sort,” He scratched the edge of his nose before running a hand through his bangs as he fidgeted uneasily. “They’re just not the same, are they? They haven’t been brought up our ways.” He reasoned with ease.

“Just like you don’t know theirs,” She retorted sharply. “Draco, I was brought up with muggles. Wizards and muggles are more alike than you think.”

His eyes widened and eyebrows arched at what he took as a serious offense. “Nel, we’re biologically superior to them. You can’t argue with that.”

Okay, true. A muggle really was no watch for a wizard. The average wizard’s lifespan extended to more than 200 years while muggles only lived a fraction of those years. Her silence was her answer.

“Don’t be a traitor to our blood,” he spewed words hailed by pure blood supremacists.

“Please?” He added, his eyebrows knotting in the center of his forehead after hearing her silent response.

“Being with them, muggles,” He spat the word out with disgust. “It shows weakness in one’s character. They’re filthy. Brutal, uneducated in our ways- they use their hands,” He raised his pale hands in front of his chest and lightly waved his fingers “To do things. Like muggle-brawling. It’s barbaric,” He scoffed in disgust.

“Those aren’t your words,” She glared at him. He was sounding more and more like Lucius Malfoy by the minute. He stood in silence looking at her with pleading eyes. As he asked her to agree with the ways he was so sure of.

“I am my father’s son,” was all he said.

The two shared a silence. It wasn’t awkward. It wasn’t uncomfortable. It wasn’t pleasant. It was heavy and lingering and allowed the other to know where they stood in this argument. “I see we’re not going to reach an agreement,” she said quietly now averting her gaze from his. The scaly texture of the snake hidden underneath her clothes a reminder her she had places to be. Sensing she was about to walk away Draco summoned every ounce of strength that he had, and once again spoke.

“Nel,” He attempted to catch her eyes with his. “There’s something I have to say to you.” One of his hands which had been nervously twirling the emerald ring his mother had given him was now pulling at one of the velvet black buttons of his coat. He tried his best not to fidget as he remembered the conversation, he had had with Theodore Nott what now seemed to be ages ago. He had insisted that he tell her whatever it was that had been keeping him up at night and always had him starring at her lost in thought in Transfigurations class. He tried to ignore his pounding heart. He had a feeling she wasn’t going to take whatever it was he was about to say well.

“Whatever it is- I don’t want to hear it Malfoy!” She barked eyeing him from head to toe as if he was covered in filth. His vulnerable body language completely going a miss to her.

“Give me a moment,” He demanded entitled reaching for her shoulder boldly stopping her from taking a harsh turn when it happened.

Draco let out a small yell and immediately flinched bringing his hand back to his lip biting down on the fresh venemous bite.

Nathair revealed himself from the inside of Elowen’s clothes and crept out resting like a diamond patterned scarf. The adder’s snout was open in a dangerous snarl as it bore it large fangs in a threatening snarl. Its body was still as it coiled aggressively sensing its master had been threatened.

“Your snake! It bit me!” Draco cried out. Eyes wide at the stinging realization.

‘Disgusting!’ Nathair spat out in a pronounced hiss. ‘And I won’t hesitate to do it again pretty boy!’ Nel looked at the snake in astonishment, sure she was upset but she wasn’t expecting her pet to attack!

“It bit me!” Draco cried out exaggeratedly. “I’m going to die!” He shouted dramatically holding his hand which was beginning to turn pink and swell from the venom of the adder.

Oh boy, this is the same person that had been kicked by a Hippogriff and had the ‘bloody chicken’ almost beheaded.

“Draco,” Nel began slowly and carefully inching closer towards him. “Get that damn thing away from me!” He looked at the snake with fear. The girl paused and picked up the snake from her neck before putting it down near the front of the green house. ‘Never put your fangs in the hands of the ungrateful,’ The snake sneered in disappointment at what it perceived to be a lack of thankfulness. Its master gave it a warning look that could be interpreted as an ‘We’ll talk later.’ The snake slithered away complaining about how disgusting human flesh tasted even tossed a ‘Swine’ somewhere in its rant.

“Okay- you need to calm down,” She approached him with a wary look hands stretched out hoping he would become more appeased.

“Are adders venomous?” He asked with a panicked expression. All the blood seemed to have drained from his face. For a second she pondered if she should lie or not. “Yes,” Nel responded carefully hoping not to elicit an explosive reaction from him.

“I’m definitely going to die!” He wailed in desperation. She instantly regretted telling him the truth. Merlin, he was acting like a child. It was only a snake bite. Didn’t he worship serpents? His whole family being in a House with one in its crest, even wearing one engraved on one of his rings? “Adders are venomous, but their bite is rarely fatal. If anything, it’ll just swell up for a couple of weeks. The venom might cause some damage and discomfort, but certainly nothing fatal,” She explained calmly. Or at least she wished she could’ve completed that short explanation. Instead, halfway through Draco’s eyes seemed to go blank before his body tilted forward as he collapsed, his body going limp.

xxx

Madame Pomfrey walked across the Hospital Room with ease as she retrieved something from her cabinet of special potions and ointments.

Nel sat on a chair with her arms crossed a bored and unconcerned look on her features as she looked down at the pale boy in the hospital bed.

Hearing the sound of chattering enter the Hospital Room, Nel looked up and waved at her two friends that entered the room and immediately rushed towards the bed standing across from their sitting friend.

“What did you do to him?” Daphne asked her eyes wide in awe as she looked at the unconscious Slytherin in the bed.

“I love that you assume this was my doing,” Nel sniggered proud at the formidable reputation she had built for herself in her past 4 years at Hogwarts.

“A snake bit him,” She explained in brevity.

“Is he-?” Tracey asked as she looked down at her school mate with a concerned look. “Not that I’m concerned or anything, but- this means there’s a slot in the Slytherin Quidditch team!” She finished her sentence in an eager and upbeat tone.

“We thought something happened to you!” Daphne whipped up a note that had been sent by owl that in six words read: Come to the Hospital Room. – Nel. “Be more detailed next time, Stars,” Daphne shook her head irritated from the panic attack she had suffered from rushing to the Hospital Room. Nel apologized for the worry she must’ve caused the two.

It was then that Madame Pomfrey shooed the two Slytherins from the side as she walked behind them and poured what looked like pumpkin juice and placed a bar of fudge on the stand next to Malfoy’s bed. His hand had already been lathered with ointment and bandaged.

“Mr. Malfoy will be just fine; he can leave as soon as he wakes up. Nasty little shock is all,” Pomfrey explained before once again retreating.

Both Tracey and Daphne looked at the back of the Healer as she retreated and back to their friend.

“He fainted?” Tracey failed to hide her laughter. “He actually fainted?” She held her stomach as if it was the funniest thing she had ever heard. Even Daphne couldn’t stop her giggling. “Not before throwing a fantastic tantrum,” Nel added joining them in their laugh.

“How did that even happen?” Daphne asked.

Nel shrugged. “Accidents happen in the greenhouse all the time,” she said dismissively really not wanting to explain she had been venting to a snake.

“And you two were there – together?” Daphne’s eyebrows arched so high up they almost vanished into her hair line. Eyes wide. Tracey who looked like she hadn’t been thinking about the scenario now looked intrigued by the blonde’s question.

Nel felt like she was on the hot seat in the middle of an interrogation she really didn’t feel like answering.

“Malfoy,” She derided with an exaggerated overemphasis. “You know how he is,” She let out an irritated sigh. “Just wanted to torture me.”

“What was he doing in the greenhouse?” Daphne pressed heavily sensing there was a missing piece to this story.

“Looking for me,” Nel retorted sharply and much more rapidly than she intended. She bit her tongue rapidly switching topics before she could ask any more questions. “Anyway- I wanted to read to you two the letter I got from Professor Lupin.” She said digging a hand into her coat’s pockets and whipping up a wrinkled and crumbled letter.

“Right here?” Tracey asked wondering why she would read the letter to the two of them in the middle of the Hospital Room. Her dark eyes looked down at the sleeping boy.

“He’s passed out.”

“You know, you don’t have to wait for him to wake up, right?” Daphne asked her eyes squinting as the edges with heavy suspicion. She was observing her friend closely waiting for her skin to flush or for her to stumble on her words and reveal a glimpse of sincere emotion.

“I feel obligated,” Nel responded cooly leaning back on her chair with her arms crossed. She pretended the hot flash that she felt behind her neck wasn’t really there.

“Sure,” Daphne responded with a satisfied smirk. Her suspicions had been right all along. Theodore had also slipped to her about a little talk he had had with Draco only a few weeks ago. Tracey appeared to be clueless to all this.

“Anyhow-“ Saintday cleared her throat and she brought the parchment paper Lupin had written to her eye level. She skimmed over most and simply read over the relevant parts of it.

‘Ellar Lestrange comes from an ancient wizarding family of pureblood fanatics. Many practice the Dark Arts and have been known to be vocal and the most loyal supporters of You-Know-Who. His father Rabastan has been in Azkaban for the violent torturing of two Aurors. His mother Cloelia, I believe it is rumored feigned being a victim of domestic abuse as a way of being coaxed into following You-Know-Who.’

Nothing they didn’t already know.

“Is that true?” Tracey asked sounding concerned. “If she lied that’s really messed up!” Daphne said in awe. “We should always believe victims but this-“ She hesitated to finish her sentence and instead decided to remain silent.

Nel thought about all of the mental and physical abuse she had endured when living under Cloelia’s roof. She liked to think that a victim would never do something so monstrous to another person, much less a child. However, maybe she was more than familiar with torture methods having picked them up from her husband. Still, with the Lestrange’s one never knew.

“Honestly, I wouldn’t put it past him,” Nel responded in a dull tone, her expression pained as she continued to read. The possibility of Cloelia being a victim of a life of domestic abuse no matter how far-fetched was possible. “Like I said- they were known to be some of You-Know-Who’s most loyal followers. I can’t help but get an ill feeling when I think about the strange reason, they must’ve had to adopt you. I wish I-“ Nel stammered and soon lost her voice.

Again, nothing they didn’t already know.

Tracey and Daphne asked her to continue. When she didn’t and they noticed her glassy eyes, they became concerned. She kept the next part to herself.

‘I wish I could do more for you Nel. I would be proud to be your guardian, but due to my condition I’m afraid it is not safe and would make the adoption process impossible in the eyes of any court.’

“Sorry,” The girl mumbled weakly as she wiped the inside of her eye with her thumb fighting back the tears that had threatened to spill.

The thought of having an adequate guardian. Somebody as kind as Professor Lupin. Someone that didn’t scream, yell, lock you in a room, or hurt you – It seemed like such a far away ideal. A dream the girl had long accepted would never become a reality.

“I would advise you to do everything in your power not to return to them this holiday.”

She lowered the parchment down to her lap and sucked the inside of her lip in deep in thought. The majority of information was useless. If anything, it only confirmed what the three already knew, that the Lestranges were in fact very dangerous people.

“So, what are you going to do then?” Tracey asked. “You could come home with me for the holiday if you’d like,” She offered kindly willing to provide a sanctuary to her best friend. Nel’s face lit up. That would be ideal! The two would have the best time going to Quidditch matches and staying up late talking about the best and worst flavor of Bertie Bott’s Every Flavour Jellybean or watch Muggle films

“Really?” She answered loudly grinning broadly.

“Wait-“ Daphne interrupted the moment the two were sharing. She also didn’t offer her home. Knowing full well what would happen to her and her guest if she even dared bring home somebody whose surname wasn’t listed in the Sacred Twenty-Eight. “That doesn’t tell us anything about Ellar. Nothing we didn’t already know,” She said returning to the focus of the conversation.

“I heard back from my cousin in France,” she began. “She used a very colorful language to describe Ellar. Said he’s a – what was the word she used? ‘Manipulative snake,’ that he can be downright foul. Apparently, he event went a far as assaulting a muggle-born witch that worked in the same Department. It got so bad she eventually quit.”

“Like- sexual harassment?” Tracey squinted.

“Does it make a difference?” Daphne arched an eyebrow. “Not that my cousin ever did anything to stop it-“ She admitted regretfully. “But this is exactly what I am trying to say!” Daphne slapped her hand on her thigh as she continued to speak her tone becoming louder and more passionate. “You’re clearly not the first girl he’s done something like this to – and you’re obviously not the last. Who knows how many more survivors there are-“ Greengrass didn’t realize the shift in emotion in her friend’s whose face twisted into a confused expression? “Survivors?” She coughed with disdain. “-If he did this to you, and to this girl, he’s going to do it to someone else!” She finished with a concerned look. “We have to do something about this.”

“What do you recon we do?”

“I also heard back from my father,” She began to explain. “He said this is very serious. However, he says conviction cases for these types of crimes are very low. The success rate of a conviction in England is 5.7%.”

“5.7?!” Tracey’s mouth went a little slack.

“And that’s coming from an even smaller percentage of victims who actually speak up.” Again, Nel lightly flinched at the word ‘victims’ it wasn’t something she would ever wear as a label. If anything, it was something she saw as a branding to her identity. She wouldn’t allow Ellar, Wool or whoever to have that type of power in her life. Daphne took in a deep breath before continuing. “He also said it’s going to be even harder to prosecute considering we have no physical evidence including your memories which most Wizarding courts consider to be unreliable, and even if we did - The Lestranges have too much power in the judicial system.”

“Bunch of crooks,” Tracey shook her head disappointed biting down on her thumb as she appeared to be deep in thought.

“You have to do something about this Nel,” Daphne insisted. Her friend looked at her with a pure look of negation. “As much as we hate him, you have to tell the Headmaster.” She looked between the two girls. “Tell Dumbledore?” Eyes were wide in disbelief at what the Slytherin had just suggested.

“I can already tell you what would happen if Dumbledore knew,” Tracey leaned back on her chair. “Absolutely nothing,” She said pessimistically. “We’re Slytherin. He hates us.”

Daphne’s shoulder’s slumped in defeat.

Going to Dumbledore had also been Nel’s first instinct. Something Snape had strongly advised against. His reasons unknown as the old bat kept his agenda so cleverly hidden. Regardless, there had to be a valid reason. Either Snape knew no good would come from it or he was protecting Ellar Lestrange. There was no in between and Elowen wanted to find out which it was. “Trace is right,” Nel admitted sadly. “He was already expelled from Hogwarts once. What are they going to do him? Expel him from Beauxbatons?” It was a hard pill to swallow but people like Ellar Lestrange – privileged entitled, monsters – more than often got away with only a slap on the wrist.

“The least he can do is protect you,” Daphne continued pressing.

“I’m not telling Dumbledore. Why are you being so pushy?” Nel scowled bothered on how much her friend had been insisting she tell the truth to Dumbledore. Daphne looked greatly frustrated. “This is such bullshit!” The Parselmouth angrily kicked the hospital bed making the boy in it let out a deep brown and the sudden disturbance. She seemed to ignore this.

“You need to do it Nel,” Daphne again insisted, this time her tone stern. “You’re a victim.”

“I am not a victim,” The other snarled in denial. “I refuse to allow this, or any other sad incident define my life!” The girl said terribly upset speaking through gritted teeth. “Do you know what would happen if I told on every single person that’s ever-“ She brought herself to a halt before emotionally shutting down. Both Daphne and Tracey saw the distant look in her dark eyes. “This is my battle to fight.”

“We’re here to help you. You don’t have to do it alone,” Tracey said gently. The tension increasingly growing between the two parties. “Alone. This is my battle to fight alone,” She corrected defensively isolating and building high emotional walls around herself. Her head hurting and suddenly feeling hot as an incoming migraine began to set in.

Tracey looked wounded. Daphne’s nostrils were flaring. “I can see we’re not going to agree,” She retorted flatly.

“I guess not,” was the other’s answer, her tone made it seem as if her mind was many miles away in some distant faraway place.

Daphne stood up and angrily walked away without looking back. Tracey called after her. Her eyes darting between her blonde and brunette friend. With one last woeful look towards her friend, with a tucked tail she followed after the blonde.

Sitting alone in the Hospital Room the orphan pinched the bridge of her nose in great frustration and lowered her body to bury her head on her knees. If only life were as easy as Daphne made it seem. If she told on Ellar odds were, he would only receive a slap on the hand and he and his terrible mother would come after her with a blind wrath. It wasn’t a risk she was willing to take. She was betting this was what Snape was afraid would happen.

She fought back the tears that were threatening to spill and sucked in an exhausting breath as she tried to think of nothing.

“You can’t tell Dumbledore,” A throaty voice interrupted. She didn’t move an inch but heard Draco’s sheets moving as his body shifted positions. “It’ll only make things worse. My father always says he was the worst thing that ever happened to this place.”

She could hear him drinking the juice that Madame Pomfrey had left out for him.

“You heard everything?” She asked meekly.

“You wanted me to. If not, you would’ve left,” He rationalized.

“Touché,” She said sitting up using both of her hands to comb all of her hair and bangs away from her swollen face. Not wanting to think about Ellar, the drowning or her awful fight with her friends she looked at him with a lopsided grin and instead decided to bully him. “Is it true you fainted? Like- actually fainted?” She joked mocking him just like he had done to Harry the year before.

However, he didn’t laugh.

“You sent your pet after me,” He ignored her jab and downed the rest of his juice.

“If I wanted to hurt you, I would’ve done it myself,” She answered her voice returning to an unfriendly tone.

“Right,” He agreed. Afterall, she wasn’t the type to shy about this kind of thing. Considering he wasn’t freaking out about the snake bite Nel assumed he had also overheard everything that Madame Pomfrey had said about his condition and the status of his health.

“That git,” The words rolled out of his lips in a dangerously angry voice. She looked at him confused and noticed how his hands were tightly clenched into balling fists. “I’ll make him pay. I promise.”

She knew that if Draco was anything he was determined. She had no question he meant what he had just said. Yet she couldn’t help but be confused by his words.

“You don’t have to do that,” She squinted perplexed. “Not for me. I can take care of myself,” She said lowering her head, her voice dropping to a whisper as her hair once again came down hiding her emotion. After all this was her own fight, one she wanted to win or lose alone. She sat with her head lowered and her shoulders tensed when she felt a soft hand gently press against her forehead. Keeping her gaze lowered, she allowed him to push her brown hair out of her face and comb it over her forehead.

He let out a small chuckle. Nel wasn’t sure whether it was at the strange expression she must’ve been wearing or at the thought of whatever evil plan he was crafting to hurt Ellar. “I’ll enjoy this,” He said maliciously.

Something about the way he said it embarrassingly made her heart skip a beat. Draco was now sitting up still wearing his weekend clothing. He had brought his uninjured hand to his chin and was twirling one of his rings with fascination as he looked deep in thought. The slightest of growing smirks on his face as he concocted the fatal details of his vengeful plan.

“Wait-“ She paused snapping out of his charming behavior. “Let me get this straight. You can do this for me- but you can’t learn to accept muggles as your equal?”

“Muggles are dangerous,” he began to explain lowering his hand and relaxing in his bed. Hadn’t he just said wizards were superior? “I’m not contradicting myself. What I mean to say is- haven’t you paid attention in History of Magic?”

Obviously not. Merlin’s beard it was the most awful class in all of Hogwarts with Binns mindlessly lecturing which seemed to go on for hours and hours. “Muggles used to persecute our kind, burn us at the stake, drown and torture us.” Nel visibly recoiled at the mentioning of the word drowning. “They singlehandedly almost destroyed our kind and forced our world into hiding. It shouldn’t be like that.”

She pondered on his words for a moment. “You have a point,” She finally agreed with him. “But I know muggles. They are more scared of us than us then we are of them. They fear what they can’t understand. I don’t blame them for-“ “For what? For massacring hundreds of our kind!” She wasn’t expecting him to raise his voice.

“How many of them have we killed?” She shot back just as loudly. “Hundreds? Thousands? How many did You-Know-Who kill? Or your father?” She spat coldly.

Ouch.

He grew silent at the mentioning of his father’s illicit activities as a Death Eater. His icy eyes were hard when he looked at her. For once Malfoy didn’t have a snarky comeback or any colorful words to throw at her.

“Don’t. Bring my father into this,” He sneered out in drawled out sentences.

“He’s cruel and vile and I will be bringing him into this as long as he continues to poison your mind. Go out there into the real world and once you’ve seen what it’s like I’ll let you make up your mind about it. Because you know what-“ She hadn’t meant for it to happen but her eyes began to water, her voice cracked at the emotional exhaustion of the day something he had not been anticipating happening. “As of right now,” She broke, trying her best to hold it in together, to not allow the stinging tears from spilling. “I have met many, many more cruel wizards in this side of the world than in the other and that’s from someone that was raised by Cordelia Wool,” She let out a doleful weak laugh.

“Who’s Cordelia Wool?” Malfoy asked after a moment as he racked his brain for any instance in which she might’ve mentioned it. He remembered her saying Wool’s more than once. Maybe this is what she meant.

One hot tear followed by another which meant it was time to go into hiding being the recluse she was. “Forget it,” She said rising from her chair wiping her tears and walking away without bidding him goodbye or good riddance.

Draco tossed his head back and looked at the ceiling feeling a great frustration. Why was it that something always come in between them and royally fucked things up? Perhaps it was better to leave things the way they were, spare her the pain as Theodore had once suggested. However, looking up she was horrified to see Professor McGonagall standing in the entrance of the Hospital Room. The look in her eyes severe, lips drawn into a thin line. It could only mean one thing.

Fuck.

“Ms. Saintday, the Headmaster has requested to see you.”

Xxx

Dumbledore’s office was warm and welcoming like it always was. McGonagall escorted Elowen into the office keeping a close mistrustful eye on the student.

Walking in she crossed paths with Daphne Greengrass whose gaze was hard and did not meet her friend’s as she brushed past her on the way out.

Fucking Daphne.

Nel felt the pits of her stomach bubbling with rage. Looking at her. Tracey following behind with an apologetic look and then back to Professor Snape and Professor Dumbledore who gravely stood before a fireplace both wearing solemn expressions on their faces. It was obvious Daphne had croaked.

Elowen was livid. How dare she. This was her story to tell, NOT HERS. Nel was the affected one, NOT golden haired, precious, privileged, beautiful, Daphne Greengrass. A deep scowl formed in her features as she shot a chilling glare to the girl’s retreating back.

“Ms. Saintday,” The Headmaster acknowledged her momentarily seizing her attention. “It’s been a while since our last visit,” He said smiling at her softly. The man stood tall as he usually did, wearing his half-moon glasses holding both hands resting on his lap.

Snape looked at her with a condescending look.

Nel remained silent at the greeting ignoring it.

“Ms. Greengrass and Ms. Davis have just come to me with a most serious concern,” Dumbledore began. “Perhaps accusation is a better word of choice.”

Her mouth felt dry. McGonagall was still standing behind her. Snape’s bottomless eyes carefully fixed on her. Dumbledore looked as if he was attempting to pry into her mind with his twinkling blue eyes. “Before any actions are taken, we wanted to hear the story from your own account as it happened.” He stretched out a hand signaling for her to take a seat before the fireplace. She did no such thing and remained standing looking at the two with hard eyes.

The silence was deafening with the exception of Fawkes combing over his feathers and the fire softly cracking in the background. She could also feel the eyes of the many former Headmasters and Headmistresses of Hogwarts’ looking down at her in judgment.

She could feel him now physically attempting to pry into her mind. She emptied her head out of all thoughts and the vision of a safe shut tightly and the dial spun hiding away her thoughts and secrets.

“Your master has taught you well Elowen,” Dumbledore commented at her growth in occlumency. Wait- how did she know that word? Occlumency, the art of magically closing one’s mind against Legilimency, or mind readers. She didn’t know how, but somehow, she knew what the word meant.

Again, she did not say a single word. His eyes moved over to Professor Snape who uncrossed his arms and from inside one of his sleeves pulled out a small vial containing no color and bubbling slightly. “Know what this is?” He drawled out; his voice emotionless.

“Bubble bath soap?” She retorted with dripping sarcasm.

Snape did not seem amused.

“Veritaserum,” He responded. “Three drops of this and You-Know-Who himself would spill his darkest secrets.” She looked at him incredulously. Certainly, they weren’t hoping to use it on her. “The use of this on a student is regrettably forbidden. However, seeing as Mr. Lestrange’s involvement in this anecdote cannot be ignored and since he is no longer part of this institution my hand might just slip on his pumpkin juice and we might have to hear his version of the events.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” She lied flawlessly as if her life depended on it maybe it did.

Snape exchanged a look with Dumbledore.

“Elowen, Ms. Greengrass claimed that Ellar Lestrange lured you into the docks some time ago. There he not only threatened you, but he also made an attempt on your life mocking and attempting to drown you in the Black Lake. Is this true?” Dumbledore leaned forward as if attempting to pull the truth out from her.

“It’s a lie.” She answered flatly.

“Elowen,” He pressed again this time taking slow strides around her almost like a shark rounding its prey. His eyes looking for any sign of betrayal. “This is a safe space. This institution does not tolerate the harassment of others. Much less if it endangers the life of one of our students.”

‘Rich coming from the same people that allowed Slytherin House and others to bully me for the majority of my time in this institution,’ she thought with bitter resentment.

“Ellar Lestrange is my adoptive brother. Why would he hurt me?” She probed in her best reasonable logic. “I’m just as aware of his reputation, sir, but tell me- this being true, what reason would I have to protect him?”

Dumbledore nodded his head slowly. “Ms. Saintday, if you confide in us. I can assure you that no harm will come to you. The steps that would follow would be taking Mr. Lestrange’s witness, then contacting his parents, and then-“ She had to interrupt. “And then what? He’d be expelled from Beuxbaton and transfer to Durmstrang? Just like he did from here, right?” She responded with snark.

Dumbledore allowed her to continue.

“I think the real question here is why Ms. Greengrass and Ms. Davis would make up such an elaborate lie.”

Again, silence as the three professors exchanged knowing looks.

“Saintday has a point,” Snape suddenly broke the silence. She tried her best not to look at the Professor with surprise. So, he was siding with her. She was holding up her end of the bargain and keeping her mouth shut to what had happened. Her suspicions were correct. If anything, Ellar would only receive a slap to the wrist, get away with it and then she’d have to deal with Cloelia’s blind wrath. To her it seemed like they were in the same page.

“I assure you I keep a close eye on my House Headmaster. Specially on Saintday who seems to have the keen ability to surround herself with... trouble. I can assure we would not be standing here having this hopeless discussion, if I had caught wind of this rumor before.”

Dumbledore stopped now holding his hands behind his back as he gazed at the fire deep in thought as he marinated on the Potion Master’s words. “For as much as you persuade Ms. Saintday, I don’t believe you,” He looked back at her with a mistrusting gaze.

“But you believe Professor Snape, sir,” Nel shot back her body language mirroring the Headmasters.

Behind her McGonagall looked at the interaction with concern.

Snape gave Dumbledore a look that seemed to say this conversation was over. After all, they had no arguments if they didn’t have the main witness admitting to the events. However, unknowingly to the student all of this had been pre-rehearsed and already discussed amongst the two men.

“Very well,” It seemed like Dumbledore had given up. “But do tell me Elowen, and I hope you are truthful. How do you fancy your new guardian Ms. Cloelia? Real nit-picky student from what I recall.”

It was lie, after lie, after lie. Nel had never lied so much to a person before. She was surprised at how easily the lies slipped from her mouth. She wasn’t aware that Dumbledore didn’t seem to believe a single word that came out of her mouth and if she did, she didn’t care. Instead, the Headmaster was looking at her moving mouth and edging grin with a fearful eye. It wasn’t the first time he was witness to it, but the shadow of a lonely orphan boy from a familiar background who also possessed the affinity to speak to snakes and the ability to flawlessly lie was instead standing before him.

His assumptions, as always had been correct. Despite Severus best efforts to protect her. Nel Saintday was beyond salvation. The evil within her louder and bolder than ever. It was then that Dumbledore decided that “The Girl Who Died” would have to return and die at the hand of her creator.

Professor Snape walked Nel down the stairs of Dumbledore’s office and lead her down to the dungeons and to his office. His hand in the form of a C was angrily pressing on the nape of her neck as he quickly ushered her inside of his office.

“Let go off me!” She slapped his hand away and looked at him with a furious expression. “I am not a child anymore!” She heaved drained from the restless day she had had.

“You insolent, stupid, dunder-head, foolish, girl!” He exclaimed and whipped his wand behind him to lock the door of his private office. This spew of insults and verbal abuse coming from the Professor was sadly not unfamiliar to her. She wasn’t expecting him to be so upset.

He was acting as if she had signed someone’s death sentence.

“Shut mouths catch no flies,” He raised his want in offensive. Triggered she did the same not blinking afraid the professor might strike her. After all, it had never stopped anyone before. Putting on a brave face, she attempted not to show the fear she felt or how her knees were trembling as she expected to be gravely wounded. There was no way she’d be able to take on a Hogwarts Professor, much less somebody as ruthless as Snape.

“Foolish girl. You had to open your damn mouth and babble to Greengrass, Davis and Merlin know who else.”

“What Lestrange did was fucked up and you know it,” She spat vulgarly not minding she was speaking to an adult. Neither lowering her trembling hand or stance. Jaw clenched tightly as she hoped her focus would be of an advantage to her. Snape’s body mirrored her own.

Just looking at her made an emotional wound on his chest soar with painful heat and a burning guilt. Dumbledore felt Elowen was beyond reason. That her nature had long ago sealed her fate. That, that awful curse that branded her face had also sealed this same destiny.

But he liked to believe otherwise. He liked to believe she could be good. That she had a choice.

There was no use in beating around the bush when it came to discussing why it was best not to take any action in punishing Ellar Lestrange with the juridical system involved. Both saw the bigger picture and were in the same place. Snape wasn’t protecting Ellar, he was protecting her, but why?

“He can’t kill you,” He said directly.

“Why?” Her sharp tongue followed suit.

“You serve a very specific purpose for the Dark Lord and have been placed under the custody of the Lestranges because of it.”

“Right,” she answered with a deep canyon forming in between her brows and a tightly clenched jaw. “That I gathered. A Parselmouth orphan taken into the home of one of Voldemort’s most loyal followers I could hardly expect it to be charitable.”

“Good, you’re catching on. Perhaps you have matured since last time we met.”

She ignored this. Whatever he meant by saying last time. This conversation. This scenario it almost felt like it had happened before as if they had already had this conversation, but something had gone awry wrong. It was almost like dejavu.

“You’ve been teaching me occlumency, not how to control my emotions or whatever bullshit that was.”

Snape remained silent. It was true.

“Why?”

“You will find that just like today the ability to hide one’s thoughts is a useful one and I haven’t the slightest doubt that others, witches and wizards more dangerous than the Headmaster might even rely on sadistic methods of torture to pry the truth from your big mouth.”

“Who else knows about the incident with Ellar Lestrange?” He questioned.

“No one,” She lied without hesitation. Snape whipped his wand, and a red spark stung her arm like a pinch, she winced at the sensation. “Dare you use my own spells against me.”

“Draco Malfoy,” She spat truthfully with a look of concern. “He won’t open his mouth. “I trust he won’t,” Snape added swiftly knowing well that Draco Malfoy had more on the line than Elowen did. Being directly related to the Lestranges he wouldn’t raise any hell towards them. Nel decided to keep what Draco had promised her to herself. Snape slowly lowered his wand and guard. Elowen didn’t. “He’s got more bidding on the line than you do if he spreads your precious little secret.”

She bit her tongue standing angry and frustrated. “Why does he want me? What does he want from me? What could I possibly give him? I have nothing. NOTHING! I am nobody,” She heaved as her emotions came crashing like waves and spilled like tears. Like broken risks, recordings of Wool telling her she was worthless, locking her in the Chokey, Lucy going missing. Not having a parent, a name, a single galleon owed to her worthless life. This life that Elowen had been given… She didn’t want it. It was numbing moments like this that made her feel like it wasn’t worth living.

“Same reason he wants Potter,” Snape cleverly lied to hide the Dark Lord’s true intentions and motives.

“To kill me,” Nel nodded and lowered her wand slowly as the horrible realization sank in. The only reason Ellar hadn’t killed her that one night or Cordelia had all summer long was because they were saving her like a pig for slaughter. She thought about the way most of the Purebloods looked at her, the way Mr. Malfoy always so strangely looked and fixated on her. He obviously knew this – How many more people knew? Did Draco know? “He need not bother, at this point I’ll do him the favor myself and give up on this miserable existence.” She wasn’t expecting her wand to fly out of her hand or for Snape to look at her with such fury, in his eyes was reflected a broken look. Again, Snape was haunted by the dark flashback of the night Elowen came to be during that obscure evening all those years ago. The guilt of the atrocious things he had done still rocked him to his core.

“I do not take threats such as suicide lightly Saintday,” He warned her. “I still expect many things from you, cowardice, is not one of them,” he glowered with cold contempt.

Snape again pointed his wand at her and Nel flinched expecting him to wound her instead a chair behind her crashed into the back of her legs forcing her to sit down. Emotionally defeated she complied and sat, wiping away the numb tears that slid down her emotionless face. She now felt a burdening guilt at the words that had just left her mouth. Where had that venomous thought come from? The terrifying thought made her body violently shake as the tears continued to spill.

“I will not apologize for my tone or harsh words towards you,” Snape began harshly now speaking in a collected and calmer voice. Hands behind his back as he stood tall looking down at his student. “Life is hard. We learn and we grow and I’m afraid I will not allow you to have a choice in this or leave us behind to pick up the broken pieces of your short, sad and pitiable life,” He soothed in his own twisted way. Words which didn’t alleviate her pain or made her feel any better about the horrible thought she had just had.

“It is her purpose,” Dumbledore said coldly with much indifference. “As I’ve told you before, it does not matter where Elowen Saintday resides, the Dark Lord will find her. How many more lives must be lost?”

Snape swallowed hard displaying the slightest glimpse of emotion. Be it his guilt, he always felt a sense of responsibility to protect the creature sitting before him. He had brought her to this world and because of that this monster was his responsibility. Burden or not. His alcoholic muggle father had once walked out on his mother and him, be of relationship to this child or not, would he be able to do the same? Was this something he had inherited from his bastardic nature?

No, that wouldn’t be him. He wasn’t his father. With a deep sigh he approached her and stood before her. She sat deep in thought, miserable, friendless having pushed everyone who cared about her away. She was so lost in thought she didn’t hear the Professor clearly saying her name until he knelt on one knee meeting her eye level.

How many times had he had the poor girl crying her eyes out to him? How many times had he failed in his ways to show her the smallest glimpse of humanity?

“Nel,” She stopped sitting with a surprised look on her swollen, red face. She couldn’t remember if he had ever addressed her by the name, she considered to be her own. “Look at me,” his voice was softer than his typical nasal tone. She obeyed, nastily sniffing and wiping the snot that was coming down her nose.

Seeking the bits of humanity that were left in him Severus chose to look inside his heart. What would Lily say? What wisdom would she provide to the broken girl sitting in the Potion Master’s office chair. “I understand,” He spoke in brevity. He chooses not to divulge any details about his personal life. “Perhaps I was out of line,” He admitted regretfully. “I’m aware that I can be rather harsh, but I want you to understand it comes from…” He paused for a moment masterfully and very carefully picking the words he would say next. He’d never vocally admit to it coming from a place of care. “I want you to be strong. Life isn’t easy. We both know yours hasn’t and it is not going to get any easier.”

She didn’t respond to his unfamiliarly kind words.

“Just know,” He said placing his large hand on her upper arm in a familiar way hoping to comfort her. His brown eyes zeroed in on her dark ones and maybe from up this close Snape looked human and not like a giant sulking bat. He smelt of salts and other potions ingredients. Even the middle of his forehead was sunken in genuine concern.

It took great will power to make the following promise. A promise he intended on keeping. “I will do everything in my power to protect you.”:

Unsure of what came over her the girl threw her arms around the professor and held him tightly. He held the child back.

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officheol · 5 years ago

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Wonwoo: Drunken Love Confession

Drabble Prompts: #71 “You’ve been drinking tonight, haven’t you?” #77 “We’re meant for each other.” #27 “Kiss me.”

Pairing: Wonwoo/F!Reader

WC: 1204

Rating: PG

Content: Fluff, Very slight angst, Drunk Wonwoo

Requested: Yes!

Requests: Open!

Summary: Your boyfriend is drunk. And a conventional “first time” relationship event drops from his lips at a not-so-conventional time.

Masterlist

A/N: This was really fun to write. It’s a mix of 98% fluff and 2% angst for that good ‘person vs. self’ conflict. I hope you all enjoy it as much as I do bc tbh this made me get super fuzzy feelings for our Wonu. Also, yes I referenced “Crazy In Love”. How could I not?

Rattling in the quiet dark space of your apartment stirs you from your deep sleep. Rolling back over, you ignore the sound and stretch out your limbs as you bury your face in your pillow. Except, you hear it again, much louder this time. You probably should have been worried; after all, it could be a stranger breaking in. Instead, you groan and scowl, prepared to fight anyone who interrupted your much needed slumber. Lifting yourself off your bed and patting your bedside for your phone, your irritation grows as you see the bright light shining in your eyes and the lock screen clock announcing it’s 4:08 in the morning.

You don’t grab some type of makeshift weapon as you make your way into your open living space (You regret that moments later because the person who shows up makes you want to smack them.), and realize the sound is coming from behind your front door, two voices mumbling along with the occasional banging. Sneaking your way to the peephole, you close your eyes and take a deep breath when you realize who blessed you with a surprise visit.

Jerking the door open, you’re greeted with a body nearly falling into you, arms reaching out to steady themselves, a cheesy smile on their face as they recognize you.

“Jeon Wonwoo.” You eye your boyfriend up and down, not even glancing to the guy behind him, who is very clearly trying to run away before you can scold him. “Hold it, Mingyu. Don’t even try going anywhere.” He freezes and returns like a reprimanded puppy with his tail between his legs.

“Y/NNNNNN,” Wonwoo sings, batting his eyelashes, “Mingyu! Look! It’s my girlfriend, Y/N!” He hiccups and his eyes widen. “How is she here? I was just thinking about her!” Mingyu offers a limp shrug to you, a weak apology spilling from his lips as you groan.

“You’ve been drinking tonight, haven’t you?” You sigh as you lean on your doorway, Wonwoo stumbling after you as he refuses to let go of his arms around your waist. He nuzzles his face into your neck. “Mingyu, explain.”

The younger of the two shrugs again. “We were out with some of the guys catching up and drinking. Dunno how he got so drunk. But at some point, he kept babbling about you: how perfect you are, how much he misses you, etcetera. It was gross.” Mingyu grimaces. “So to shut him up, we told him you wanted to see him too. And here,” he gestures to you, “we are.”

You press two fingers to your forehead, not awake enough to be dealing with this, but also not mean enough to turn away your adoring boyfriend. Wonwoo missing you when he was drunk out of his mind? Yeah, you could say only true romantic acts work on you, judging by the warmth growing on your cheeks. “Alright, alright. Mingyu, come in for a bottle of water and you can go. Tell the boys I’ll deal with them later.” Taking your boyfriend by the hand, you pull him in past the threshold as he shuffles after, smile still lingering on his lips.

After you dismiss Mingyu, confirming that he’s getting home safely, you turn to your humming boyfriend who is busy braiding your hair.

“You have such pretty hair.” You want to roll your eyes, but watching how content Wonwoo is, all sarcasm dies on the tip of your tongue.

“Okay, lover boy. Thank you, but let’s get you some water. And something to eat, hmm?” You pull away from him and he lets out a small whine at your sudden distance. Setting the cup of water down and a bowl with crackers in front of him as he sits at your kitchen barstool across from you, you can’t help the amused smile on your face. Your boyfriend has always been sweet and attentive, even with the mistaken image of his cold eyes, but you’ve never experienced this before. His misshapen hair falls across his face and his eyes look a little distant and dreamy, and yet you’ve never been as fond as you were right now. And dare you say it, in love. But no dare could make you have enough courage to express that emotion for the first time though. Even with his current words and actions, you manage to doubt how he feels about you. The fear that the alcohol is merely exaggerating his emotions, rather than express the truth, eats at you.

Lost in thought, you don’t realize Wonwoo has finished his glass and is observing you as well. He breaks the silence first.

“Have you ever thought about how we’re meant for each other?” You blink twice, unsure if you heard properly.

“Excuse me?” you tread carefully.

“Yeah,” he lets out a love filled sigh. “It’s just, we’ve all heard stories about true love when we were younger, right?” Wonwoo gazes at you, elbow propped on the counter, palm supporting his jaw. “Sometimes, I used to doubt it. And yet here I am, crazy in love.” He tilts his head and giggles as if he were just thinking out loud. “Which means it has to be true. Because what I feel for you, certainly isn’t a lie.” He spins in the barstool seat, almost losing his balance.

What he’s saying does not make total sense, but you get the gist of it as you comprehend that Wonwoo just confessed his love for you. And not just love, but in love love. You don’t have time to think for too long though, because this time he actually does lose his balance, and plummets to the floor.

“WONWOO!” You rush around the bar and expect to see your boyfriend wincing at the pain. Instead, he just pouts and peeks at you through his eyelashes.

“It hurts,” he sniffs.

Falling to your knees next to him, you check for any visible sign of injury. “Where does it hurt, baby?”

“Here,” he points to his lips.

“Really?” This time, you do roll your eyes and sit back on your heels, arms crossed, unimpressed. “Why should I?”

“Because it hurts,” Wonwoo nods sagely, “And because I love you. So kiss me please.”

Your mind is telling you to rationalize that it’s possible he’s not fully aware of what he’s saying. Your heart is saying that it’s been over an hour since he’s arrived on your doorstep. He drank water and ate crackers. He must have sobered quite a bit, even if not fully. And Wonwoo has never been the type to lie or pretend about what he feels.

Strangely, your heart makes more sense.

Leaning down, you laugh, pressing a long kiss against his lips, whispering, “I love you too,” as he grins and wraps his arms around you.

You trust your heart.

(In the moment, you convince yourself that it being past 5 am has no effect on you. And that the love you feel for your wonderful boyfriend surpasses your exhaustion. Wonwoo confirms that this is, in fact, not true. Because his head is ringing more from the earful he got rather than his hangover the following day. But hey, at least he got to spend it with you.)

#wonwoo drabbles #wonwoo scenarios #wonwoo fluff #wonwoo fic #wonwoo angst #wonwoo imagines #seventeen fluff #seventeen angst #seventeen scenarios #seventeen imagines #seventeen drabbles #wonwoo au #seventeen fanfic #liawrites

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teardrop-eclipse · 5 years ago

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My Twisted Wonderland Ocs Bio

Note: My Two TW OC’s are based on the sun drop flower and moonstone from tangled. ~

✨🌙————☀️✨

Quote: “The moon speaks yet the sun is silence...only hears my voice with no reply.”

———

Full name: Opal Lucine Stone ( オパールルシネ石)

Kanji: 音羽瑠琉志安寿都音

[O] 音- sound, pitch, tone

[Pa] 羽- plumage, feathers

[L] 瑠 - lapis lazuli

[Lu] 琉- lapis lazuli

[Ci] 志- intention

[Ne] 安- peaceful

[S] 寿- longevity

[To] ��-metropolis

[Ne] 音- sound, pitch, tone

———

Meaning of Opal: Gem or jewel

Meaning of Lucine: Moon or light

Nickname: Ms. Stone (address to all her students), Ms. Opal (address to college staff), Opi (address to Cyra)

Age: 27 (physical age)

Birthday: October 18

Zodiac Sign: Libra

Status: Alive

Race: Human

Gender: Female

Height: 5’5

Weight: unknown

Hair color: Opal

Eye color: Grey

Blood Type: O

Occupation: Literature Teacher at night raven college (Masters degree on English Literature)

Personality: Serious, Cold, responsible, respected, strict, smart, heartwarming, elegant, friendly, neat, and sometimes mysterious

Languages: Norwegian & Japanese

Studying languages: French & Spanish

Relatives: Sun (mother), Moon (father), Cyra (younger sister), Nova (???)

Crush: Divus Crewel

Hobbies: Writing poems, spells, and studying other languages

Favorite Food: unknown

Strengths: leadership, challenged, determine, creative, success

Flaws: Sometimes a hermit, worry, sometimes not organized, not sleeping early, cyra’s permission on begging, stubborn, self-distance sometimes, overprotected, frights, tricks, and afraid of mistakes.

Any scars, birthmarks, etc: None

Trivia:

-Most of the nights, opal has a conversation with his father talking about her days at school and Cyra’s usual adventures.

-Every night opal goes to check on Cyra to see everything is alright. She’s overprotected over Cyra.

-She sometimes goes overboard when she caught her students not paying attention to class or not doing their work. She summon these rock spikes when she’s in a very bad mood. You do not wanna piss her off while she’s teaching. Strict mode level survival.

-She’s right handed.

-She will always be interested to learn more about anything and talks about it too. Pretty much a nerd I guess ^.^”

-In magic, she usually control elemental powers like water, earth, and ice. And a slinch of dark magic. Not too much or her inner dark powers takes over. Tried to learn fire but failed.

-After the split as nova, she can no longer hear or communicate her mother. The sun. Only she could hear her father, the moon.

-Can summon rock spikes with or without her chants. No wand required.

-Sense her sisters presents with her moonstone earrings. Glows if Cyra use her dark magic.

-Both Opal and Cyra don’t discuss their past to no one, their hidden powers, Nor as nova.

Quote: “I always ended up learning something new today. I want this exploration to surprise me with a bang! ~”

———–

Full name: Cyra Lily Stone (シラゆり石)

Kanji: 詩蘭利利

[Cy] 詩- Poem

[Ra] 蘭- Orchid

[Li] 利-cleaver, adventurous

[Iy] 利- cleaver, adventurous

[S] 寿- longevity

[To] 都-metropolis

[Ne] 音- sound, pitch, tone

———

Meaning to Cyra: Sun, lord, or throne.

Meaning to lily: Flower

Nickname: Cy (addressed to opal), Ms. Cyra (addressed to teachers and staff), Sunshine (Vil)

Age: 17 (physical age)

Birthday: October 18

Zodiac Sign: Libra

Status: Alive

Race: Human

Gender: Female

Height: 5’4

Weight: unknown

Hair color: Medallion Yellow faded to light blonde

Eye color: Brown

Blood Type: O

Occupation: 2nd Year at Night Raven College

Dorm: Pomefiore

Personality: Curious, creative, adventurous, smart, bright, happy, friendly, cheerful, open minded and shy sometimes

Languages: Norwegian & Japanese

Studying languages: French & Spanish

Relatives: Sun (mother), Moon (father), Opal (Older sister), Nova (???)

Crush: Vil Schoenheit

Hobbies: singing and spells

Favorite Food: unknown

Strengths: Mannered, responsible, kind, freewill, fun, supporter, and challenged

Flaws: Daydream, stubborn, sometimes gets herself in trouble, not asking for help, distraction, doubts, awkward, lies, habits and childish sometimes

Any scars, birthmarks, etc: none

Trivia:

-During daytime when she’s alone, she speaks to her mother the sun. Telling her adventurous days and her friends. Along with opal.

-After the split as nova, she can no longer hear or communicate her father. The moon. Only she could hear her mother, the sun.

-Right handed

-Sometimes Cyra tap in her dark powers, she calls them the reverse chant which it connect to opals powers. However it goes dark, forbidden and dangerous. Simular to nova’s power before the split. She can’t control it thus opal helps her control it. Using her black rock chant. Only use her reverse chant on dangerous situation.

-Extrovert

-Sense her sisters presents with her sun stone necklace.

-In magic, she usually control elemental powers like fire, earth, and a bit of dark. Not too much or her inner dark powers takes over. Tried to learn water and ice but failed.

-Loves anything that has to do with fluffy stuff

-Animal lover

-Hidden power, healing. No wand required.

-Both Cyra and Opal don’t discuss their past to no one, their hidden powers, Nor as nova.

———

Opal and Cyra’s Background: The tear of the sun and moon, falls into earth and creates one human being. They call her “nova”. Nova was curious about everything she sees, touches, everything. She communicates the sun and the moon about what she learned, about things she sees, her feelings, everything!! Every village she goes to, people welcome her with open arms, along with that she learns about the world, people, cultural, magic, everything. However this price were the sun and the moon emerge their powers into one is quite, dangerous. While growing up, her powers gets stronger and not easy to control. One day while helping a few villagers on farming, all of the sudden her powers starts to go haywire and burn the stock. A few homes, injuring people. Nova was devastated and was crying apologetically for all the damage she’s done. Every villager was in rage and kicked her out, she grab her stuff and ran off in fright. Words spread fast and every villager home, are in fear or angered. Calling her witch. “No need a witch in our home, you are cursed.” The bright women lost trust in people, weep for this pain to go away.

Meanwhile the sun and moon felt guilt that her daughter are going some difficult times. Blaming at theirselves for creating a life that they wanna share in a world we’re other life forms could enjoy. “I learned so much about the humans while observing them from the distance. I wanted to be part of their world but I can’t. I am a planet. A moon. And the sun. We gave a piece of us to that world and everyone is afraid of it...” moon said. “The world is not ready for that but I don’t want our daughter to suffer. What if we split the powers into two?” The moon looks at the sun in surprise: “Two? Would that problem be worse for our daughter?” “No, It’s overwhelmed that she has to hold our powers but if she split into two. One will hold the sun and the other the moon.” The moons is flabbergasted by the sun response but has a problem. “If we proceed of doing that, would her memories fade? And one or the other won’t hear us?” While thinking out loud, they didn’t notice their daughter was hearing the conversation, “I’ll do it. I don’t want people to hate me or cause any danger to anyone. If this is the only way I’ll do it. Please mother. Please father. I want this nightmare to end.” In conclusion, the sun and moon agreed and asked nova to chant for the split to start: “

“Listen to my voice. We are the sun and moon. We want the world in peace,

till the end of time..We will balance the chains. With our powers of light and dark. Our fate rely on me,till the end of time.

Till the end of time.”

The chant worked, before splitting she calls her sun half Cyra Lily Stone. And her Moon half Opal Lucine Stone. “Remember our memories, don’t let it fade. Be peace and no harm. Wise but no evil. It will be a struggle but please be together as one....” she splits and two emerges. The moon speaks to her daughters: “Opal, your sister won’t hear me. And so as Cyra speaking to your mother. We don’t want you to suffer no more. Second chance of life we gave. Be wise but no evil.” Opal looks up to her father: “We won’t screw this up, we’ll have a better life and make you and mother proud!!” Cyra looks up and speaks: “What opal said, we’ll control it!!” After the talk opal and Cyra got up and walked away. Put their horrible memories passed them and moved on. Ended up finding a home to stay and re try to fit in. Opal was interested in English literature so she pursuit her career. While Cyra was in home school, Opal was teaching her everything what she’s has to know and importantly controlling each other’s powers. 7 years passed and opal received a masters degree on literature and started to looking for a job soon as possible. While Cyra was wondering around the village looking at stuff her eye catches. Opal met this man named Ashton Vargas outside her hometown while searching for a job, he recommended night raven college since according to him, his headmaster are hiring some staff who are either have a bachelors or a masters degree on any teaching majors he’s looking for. Opal accepted the offer and went to college to talk to the headmaster. She got accepted and had to move in. She told Cyra the news but Cyra wanted to come. Opal Lied to her saying it’s private college and won’t allow outsiders to visit. She left with her belongings but Cyra followed her. Cyra got distracted and when she looked back, her sister is gone. While trying to remain calm, something knocked her off . Leaving her unconscious, once waking up...her life is about to get more interesting and adventurous. As for opal: students to teach and headaches.

Loading Coffin....

Opal & Cyra Outfits~

#twisted wonderland oc #stone sisters #opal lucine stone #cyra lily stone #Will add Chibis Overbolts and Outfits later on #twst #twst oc #Twisted Wonderland OC

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lesbian-deadpool · 5 years ago

Text

Flatline

Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Modern AU

Words: 2,481

Warnings: Don’t drink and drive kiddos. Mentions of abuse. Descriptions of injury. Slight cheating.

Request: Yup. Hey! I was wondering if you could do a Natasha x fem!reader based on the videoclip of Maps- Maroon 5. But with the reader not dying at the end, just getting severely injured. And with a happy ending if that’s not asking much :) love your writings btw Hope you like it!

Summary: She’ll follow you.

A/N: Sorry this might have taken a lil long, life ‘n’ stuff y’know? I finished this off whilst sleep-deprived, so, take that as you will. Also, this isn’t proof read.

(Not my GIF)

***

2:45 a.m.

Oh, God did Natasha wish she had thoughts running through her head right now, instead of the deafening static echoing throughout her ears, as her body worked on almost autopilot.

But to be perfectly honest with you. Natasha wished for a hell of a lot of things right now. She wished she had a genie so that she could make more wishes.

She had never been so desperate.

Not when she was younger, trying to get out of the hell that was her childhood.

Not when Clint had been rushed to the hospital, because his father had beat the hell out of him. Which left the, then, purple obsessed teen, deaf in both ears.

Not even when she had been shot in a robbery, and was bleeding out.

But now? Now, she was desperate as she repeatedly pounded on the elevators buttons like that would magically make it go faster. That or it just gave her something to occupy her fuzzy mind, so she wouldn’t lose it. Finally, Fucking finally, the doors opened, and reviled the reception area.

Rushing towards them, she hastily ashed.

“Where is she? Where is she?! Where the fuck is she?!” Natasha knew she didn’t make sense. She had to give them a name. A description. Something more than what she was yelling at them right now. But she just couldn’t manage to get any words, other than these, out of her mouth.

“Hold on, Ma’am. Who are you looking for?” The receptionist asked, trying not to let the anxious waves coming from Natasha affect her.

Huffing out an exasperated breath, Natasha turned and ran down a random hallway, one she guessed would be where they had taken you.

And oh, how she was right.

She just didn’t know if she wanted to be, after finding you in the state that you were.

You were layed on an operation table, nurses and doctors swarming around you. Some prepping you and the room. Others just trying their hardest to keep you stable and alive.

Cuts and scrapes adorned your body. Split lip going as far to your chin, black eyes, a sliced cheek, and a head wound. Blood matting into your hair, and all over your forehead. Your right arm was undoubtedly broken, your shirt was torn, blood seeping from beneath it. Your left leg was bloody and gouged oped in a few long strokes, the jean cut to your mid-thigh, thanks to the doctors cutting it to get to your injuries better- Or at all. All that and glass shards added to the equation, ranging from tiny, to large, penetrated every body part of yours. Natasha couldn't look at a fresh inch of skin without seeing specks of glass embedded into you. And that was just the outside. God only knows what was happening inside of your body.

And Natasha hoped. For one of the first times, in her life, she silently prayed, she prayed that there would be nothing wrong with you inside and that you would make a full and fast recovery. With her by your side.

“What happened to her?” Natasha asked, gaining the medical staff's attention.

“Get her out of here!” One of the doctors, obviously the head surgeon, -the one by your legs- ordered. Pointing in Natasha's direction, before returning their attention back to your unconscious body.

“What?” Natasha whispered. The static in her ears and mind quieting instantly. Now the only thing that could be heard in her ears was the ever slowing heart rate monitors beeps.

The two doctors nearest her made their way over to her hastily. Both of them pushing against Natasha, trying to overpower and restrain her. As she shoved against the men trying to keep her from the room.

“What the hell happened to her?!”

“Ma’am, you need to leave.” One of the doctors, who were stopping her from moving further into the room, tried to reason with her.

“No!” Natasha roared, “Tell me what happened to her!”

Finally barging past the two doctors, she paused in the room, just watching the other doctors work around you.

Natasha couldn’t decide if she was lucky to have had found you. Or if she was so incredibly unlucky to have to see you like this. And for her to know that it was all her fault.

But if the was one thing for sure. Natasha needn't have prayed.

2:30 a.m.

You had been driving for near thirty minutes. Running away from Natasha, and trying to run from the feeling’s swirling around inside of you. You had to get away from it all. No destination. Just escape. But with the tears blurring your vision, and the level of your intoxication. It was lucky you were on the road for so long. No police chasing after you, even with you going twenty over the limit. But your “luck” was soon to run out.

You don’t know what happened. One minute you were driving smoothly, well, as smoothly as you could in your state, but the next you lost control of the car. Steering wheel spinning out of your grip, making the car drift to its side. Before flipping over, again and again.

Once.

Twice.

Three.

Four.

Five.

Six.

Seven.

Seven times the car flipped, jolting you around inside. Only on the third flip did you hit your head hard against the steering wheel, knocking you out.

When the car finally stopped, landing on its roof, did the repetitive sound of a siren fill the sky. The police were finally after you. And they would bring the ambulance.

They needed to hurry.

Blood poured from a multitude of places upon your body. The car was a state. The windshield and the driver's side glass smashed. Wheels concaved into the mechanics. Dents, scrapes, and cracks adorned the exterior. The hood of the car laid a few meters behind you. But the most worrisome thing was the fact that the engine was beginning to flame.

2:27 a.m.

The vibrating phone on the seat next to you pulled your gaze from the road. Natasha’s call name lit up the screen. That was the nineteenth time she had tried calling you, in the past twenty minutes.

Picking up your phone, you slid the decline button and threw it back on the seat. Frown growing angrier with Natasha, with every second that passes.

You couldn’t believe she would do this to you- that she could do this to you. She had told you many times before that you were the only one for her. The love of her life, she would say. And you, like a fool, believed her.

Was she always lying? Had she done this before? If so, how many times? All these questions, and more, ran through your head. You wished they would shut up, and let you drive far away. Drive until the gas ran out. Or drive until you were ready to go home, where Natasha probably would be, waiting for your return. Looking like a kicked puppy.

Another vibration from your now face down phone, had you groaning. Picking it up once again, you decided to switch it off. Fuck her. She could suffer in silence, for all you cared.

1:54 a.m.

Okay, so maybe this party wasn't so bad. You got to catch up with your friends, which was nice. However, you still wished that your night was spent at home, just you and Natasha, doing whatever you pleased. Not being dragged away from each other as soon as you walked through the door. That was definitely a downside to the party.

Now don’t get me wrong. You didn’t have to be around Natasha all the time. But you had been apart from each other, for the past week or so. So, excuse you if you missed your girlfriend. But, sadly, you had promise’s to uphold, which is why you were here in the first place.

After around an hour and a half o conversing with your friends, you decided you go find Natasha. Maybe even convince her to head home soon, so you could finally spend some alone time together.

You just didn’t expect to see what you did.

There Natasha was, being pressed up against the wall by some random girl, whose tongue was down your girlfriend's throat. That is if you would still call her that, at the end of the night.

“Y/N,” Natasha uttered in a hushed tone, looking like a deer caught in headlights, as she pulled away from the girl, pushing her away slightly, as Natasha kept staring at you. “Y/N, it’s not what you think.”

“Save it, Nat,” you spat, walking from the room.

2:01 a.m.

“Y/N, please!” Natasha called after you, as you bound down the steps, walking towards Natasha’s expensive Chevrolet.

“Piss off, Natasha!”

Thankful that Natasha had given you her car keys to look after for the night, you slid into her Chevy, throwing your phone on the passenger seat.

Natasha banged on the windows, yelling through them, as you started the car, intent on ignoring her.

“Y/N, please get out of the car, you’ve been drinking.”

“Fuck off, Nat. You can make your own way home.”

“Baby, please. It’s not what it looks like,” he begs echoed through the glass, tears begin to well up in her eyes.

“’It’s not what it looks like’?!” you roared, “Really?! Because I’m pretty sure it looked like, some woman had her tongue down your throat!”

With that, you made your speedy exit, not caring as to what else Natasha had to say.

“Y/N!” Natasha called after you, “Y/N!”

11:30 p.m.

“Do we really have to go to this fuckin’ party?”

“Yes, Y/N. We promised Tony, weeks ago that we would. Now, go get dressed,” Natasha chastened.

“I am dressed.” You opened your arms, looking down at your jean and t-shirt set.

“You are not going like that,” Natasha said, gesturing to your outfit.

“Why not? You can’t tell me, Clint isn’t going to the party like this,” you said, knowing full well that Clint was going to rock up into the party, wearing jeans and purple t-shirt.

“At least put on a t-shirt that doesn’t have paint all over it,” Natasha close to whined.

Glancing down again, you finally noticed the different hues of paint, that stained into your t-shirt, from your many decorating expeditions.

“Ohhhhh... yeah, okay.”

“Thank you!” Natasha called to you, as you walked back into the bedroom to get changed.

2:46 a.m.

If the flatline of your heart was to go by, praying was unnecessary for Natasha to have even tried.

The doctors that were now behind her, each grabbed one of her shoulders and threw her from the room. Slamming the door locked behind them.

Natasha would have continued pounding on the wood of the operation door, for far more than two seconds. If it wasn’t for the arms that wrapped around her shoulders, Natasha instantly knowing who they belonged too, let out a sob she didn’t know she needed to release. Turning in her spot, she pushed her face into Clint's neck and cried there.

6:33 a.m.

Well. You felt, like shit. No. In fact. You felt like you had been thrown off a cliff, dragged through a mile of cacti, and then left in some shit. Shit does not come close to how you feel right now.

Fluttering your eyes open, as to protect them from the harsh lights of the hospital room, you then looked at your surroundings.

Medical equipment.

Plain white walls.

More medical equipment.

Natasha.

Now, that. That was shit.

Slumped in an uncomfortable position, on an equally uncomfortable looking chair, was where Natasha slept. God, she looked beautiful, even like this. You hated that you still thought that after last night.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” you groaned out, slowly moving your head to face forward, one so you didn’t have to look at Natasha much longer. And two, to ease the strain, your neck was feeling.

Your words brought Natasha out of dreamland, and into the harsh reality. “Y/N, you’re awake.”

“Yeah, and I asked you a question.”

“You remember,” she said slowly, shoulders slumping.

“Yeah, I remember. What? Hoping I had amnesia or something?”

“No, of course not,” Natasha replied, voice hurt and insulted at the accusation you had made.

“Why are you here, Natasha?” you asked, no longer wanting to fight, like you did mere moments ago. Only growing more and more tyred by the second. All you wanted right now was to go back to sleep.

“Because I love you.” But apparently, you weren’t going to be able too.

“Yeah, you sure seemed to love me last night when you were cheating on me.”

Natasha winced at that, “I didn’t.”

“What? You didn’t cheat on me?! Oh, that's rich, Natasha! I literally saw you-”

“I didn’t kiss her. She kissed me. She was saying all of this stuff about how she was better than you, how I should be with her, and how good she and I would be together. I got really angry and told her to go fuck herself. Then she kissed me. I pushed her away when you came into the room.”

“You didn’t look angry,” you noted, voice small.

“Because you looked so heartbroken, and I knew it was because of me.” Natasha’s sniffling brought you to look back at her saddened face. Only now did you notice her redraw eyes, presumably from crying. Tears welling up in them again. And you knew for a fact, they were burning her.

And in that moment you believed her. Of course, you did. Obviously, she was right. This was your Natasha we’re talking about here. The one who never looked at anyone the same way she did you. The woman who had repeatedly blown off important responsibilities, just because she missed being in your arms. The woman who beyond all else, loved you with all her heart.

“Yeah, well, now my body’s kinda broken not, too.”

“Don’t make me feel worse, please,” Natasha uttered, placing her head in her hand’s. Your bed dipping as she rested her elbows upon the mattress.

Smiling sadly at her, you said, “It’s not your fault, Natasha.” Pulling her hand’s away from her eyes, so she would look at you. Your sad smile turning into a fond one. “I’m the one who drove the car while drunk. Which by the way, I might have destroyed, just a little bit.”

“I don’t care about the Goddamn car.” Natasha shook her head. “As long as your okay, I don’t care about anything else.”

“I love you, Nat. I know you didn’t cheat on me.”

“I love you too, Y/N,” Natasha replied, griping your hand, “Never scare me like that again. You flatlined. I thought I lost you.”

“Well, you didn’t, I’m right here. I’m right here.”

#original fanfiction #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff #marvel #MCU

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snowdice · 3 years ago

Text

Big Bang (Sort of) Editing Story [Day 65]

Lets do a bit of this tonight. Probably won’t work on it long, but I have something to finish up.

Chapter 30

After lunch, Patton and Logan took Virgil out into the garden to walk around. They let Virgil lead them around wherever he wanted to in the garden. A bunch more flowers had died since the last time they’d been out here, and Patton felt sad despite having never felt very sad about that sort of thing before. But, Virgil seemed to really like the flower he’d found last time, so Patton thought he was probably sad on the boy’s behalf.

Of course, Patton thought, perking up, eventually it would be spring, and Virgil could get to not only see flowers but see all of the flowers grow. Patton couldn’t wait to see him amongst the garden then.

Virgil took them wandering through the orchard for a while, but most of the trees had been stripped of their fruits. They ended up in the food garden after a bit, and Virgil finally seemed to decide on the direction instead of just ambling about.

Mr. Deknis looked up as they approached and smiled at them.

“Hello, Mr. Deknis,” Patton said as they came closer.

“Hello you three,” Mr. Deknis said. “Getting into trouble?”

“No,” Virgil said, shaking his head.

Mr. Deknis gave him a flash of a smile. “I know, I’m joking,” he said. “Especially since there isn’t much left in my gardens for certain princes to destroy with experiments.”

“Oh, okay,” Virgil said. He tilted his head. “What are you doing?”

“I’m getting the last of the acorn squash out,” Mr. Deknis replied. “It’s the last crop to get finished. Good thing too, it’s supposed to start snowing soon.”

Virgil looked down curiously at the dark green squash.

“Would you like to help me pick a couple?” Mr. Deknis asked.

“Sure,” Virgil said, sounding interested. Mr. Deknis patted the ground beside him and Virgil knelt down to watch him.

“They’re not too difficult to harvest,” he said. “You just cut the fruit off the stem. You want to leave about a hand’s width of the stem left over which will help preserve moisture. The earlier harvests, I left in the field to cure in the sun for a couple weeks, but the frost’ll ruin them so we’ll take them inside the green house and let them sit in the sun for a bit there. We also want to keep the leaves. You’ll probably be eating those for dinner tonight since they have to be cooked up within about 24 hours after they’re picked. Patton’s mom makes a good side dish with them and she’ll be making some curry tomorrow, probably. Maybe some stew if there are some leftover.”

“Put the squash in this wheelbarrow and the leaves into this pile, okay?” Virgil nodded and Mr. Deknis handed him the extra pair of gloves and shears he carried with him in case one set broke. “These might be a bit big on your, but they should work for now.”

Mr. Deknis looked up at Patton and Logan. “Would the two of you like to help?” he asked. “I can get some more equipment.”

“I can help out if you want, but you don’t need to stop and get more equipment just for me,” Patton said.

“The same for me,” Logan said.

“Well, if you’d like to help still, you can sort the leave. Give your mother a head start.”

“Sure,” Patton said. He and Logan went to do that while Mr. Deknis and Virgil worked on cutting the squashes from the vine.

“What do you do during the winter?” Virgil asked curiously. “If this is your last crop.”

“Seedlings?” he asked.

“I let seeds start to grow in the greenhouse that I replant once it gets warm enough.”

“Why don’t you just plant them where they’re going?”

“I do for some,” he said, “but giving some a head start is good for them.”

“Say yes if you want to Virgil,” Logan said.

“He’s exploring,” Logan said, nodding at the large patch of bushes.

Patton chuckled. “I see.” He sat next to Logan. Every so often he’d hear the bushes rustle, but he couldn’t tell if it was actually Virgil or an animal.

“He’s adorable,” Patton commented, keeping an ear out.

Logan hummed.

“I’m glad we kept him.”

“He isn’t a pet, Patton.”

“I’m going to go see what he’s doing,” Patton said. “I’ll be right back.”

“Ghost kitty!” he said, making sure to make his voice as quiet as possible.

“This is Ghost Kitty?” Virgil asked. “I thought you said she was hard to pet.”

“She is,” Patton said. He lowered himself onto the ground from a few feet away from them. “How did you get her to come to you?”

Virgil glanced down at the cat and shrugged, scratching one of her ears. “She just came over to me and let me pet her.”

“Wow,” Patton said softly. He looked at the cat. “Could I pet you sweetie?” he asked, holding out a hand in her direction. She hissed again.

Virgil frowned down at her. “It’s Patton,” he said as though he expected to understand his words and the exasperation in the tone he said them in.

He carefully turned his hand over so he could stroke the top of her head. He gently scratched her ear, not daring to go for under her chin yet since she didn’t know him well. “Hi,” he said softly. After a moment, she started to purr softly. Virgil reached over and scratched under her chin and she purred louder. “Oh, you’re a good girl,” Patton breathed, letting a hand trail gently down her back once and then again. Patton settled himself carefully into a seating position continuing to pet her. After a few more moments of soft petting, she hesitantly stepped her front paws onto Patton’s thigh so she was sitting in both of their laps. Patton laughed softly. “Hi sweetie.” He glanced over at Virgil who had a wide smile on his face as he pet the cat. This. This was adorable. They continued to pet the cat for a very long time.