#i cried in my lesson the other day and my teacher told me someone said (about me) one of the nicest things to hear in my entire life

[loverboybrightsideghost]

is it just me or is going to music school like [unlearns technique] [relearns technique] [unlearns technique] [relearns technique] [unlearns technique] [relearns technique][unlearns technique] [relearns technique][unlearns technique] [re-

[staytinyville]

Stay Alive (26)

BTS poly!ot7 x Reader

Magical Creatures AU

Series Masterlist

Warnings: smut (MDNI), piv, unprotected sex (we don't do that here),

A/N NOT BETA. Honest opinion yall what you think of my smut lol

You giggled at the younger patients wading around in the pool, trying to learn how to swim. Jimin along with other patients, were holding swim lessons to help the younger kids know the basics. While the only time they got to swim was in the pool, Jimin thought it was best to teach them if the day ever comes that they are freed from this hell. 

“You're doing good!” Jimin praised one of the girls. 

You had a bright smile on your face, putting out towels once the lessons came to an end and everyone got ready to leave. 

“Good work everyone!” Jimin called, waving goodbye to the other patients. 

He nodded his head to some of the other volunteer instructors–most of which were older people who had gotten the chance to learn how to swim before being imprisoned. You gave them kind smiles as they passed you, thank you for the towel you handed them. 

You turned back to Jimin, watching as he ducked under the water causing it to ripple. A soft smile formed on your face the more you watched him do what looked like a dance. It was mesmerizing to watch. 

He popped back out, grinning when he saw you making your way closer to the edge. He waded over, placing his arms along the cement.

“You're amazing with children.” You told him, giving him a water bottle.

“I'm just a great swim teacher.” Jimin chuckled. 

He suddenly frowned after taking gulps of the water. You watched as he dropped his head onto his arms, his legs kicking in the water. 

“There's a lot of kids here who were taken from their families.” He sighed deeply. “They don't get a lot of education for practical things so I asked to be a swim instructor.” He explained. 

“Jungkook helps with physical exercises, Taehyung does art, Jin helps people with cooking, and Hobi teaches magic to the kids.” He smiled softly. “It’s just little things that people should get in their everyday lives. They might try to bribe us with things but we know the truth. This isn’t the life people deserve.”

“I think you guys are amazing to want to teach the younger ones.” You moved your fingers through Jimin’s wet hair, causing him to grin. 

“We got the chance but they won't.” He pressed his lips together. “They're missing so much from their abilities–someone has to tell them.”

“How old is the youngest?” You asked him.

He thought about it for a moment. “Ni-ki is 17.” 

“When was he brought in?” You frowned, shoulders dropping at the idea of such a young boy being stuck here for so long. 

“5 years ago. That was the last time they brought in people.” Jimin explained. “They said they closed off the portal that was used to travel between the worlds.”

“They took a 12 year old from his parents?” You cried, your eyes starting to hurt from the tears piling up. “Jimin, this isn't okay. Why would anyone do this?” 

Jimin quickly pulled himself up from the water, sitting at the ledge of the pool. “He's a greed demon. It's what he does.” Jimin sighed, bringing you in for a hug. You didn’t care for getting your clothing wet, knowing you’ll just ask to borrow some of the boys. 

“We'll save them.” Jimin told you, hand rubbing the back of your neck. “It's something all of us decided to do when they brought in the people after us. No one deserves this.”

He looked down when you began to shake, your tears hitting his wet skin. “Hey don't cry, beautiful.” He pulled you back, wiping at your tears. “We'll get through this.” He told you. 

When your sniffles wouldn’t stop, he looked down at the water before turning back to you. “How about I show you something?” He told you, dropping back into the pool. 

“Show me what?” You tried to stop your tears from falling, wiping at them with the towel you were going to give Jimin. 

“Watch.” He smiled at you before disappearing under the water. 

You leaned over the edge, looking down into the dark pool. You weren’t able to see all the way to the bottom, probably going much deeper than you would be able to swim in. However as you tried to find where Jimin had gone, you suddenly saw a shimmer of scales breach up into the light. You gasped, trying to find the figure again. You quickly fell backwards as a mermaid looking tail made a splash on the surface. You flinched as the water sprayed on your, moving an arm up to keep the chlorine from getting into your eye. 

As you lowered your arm, another gasp pulled from your lips. Jimin’s head had popped out of the water, his nose still under. You could see pale scales surrounding his face, leading to sharply pointed ears. As he swam closer, you moved back to the edge. The more he pulled himself out, the more of his true form you could see. 

His gills moved on the side of his neck, two openings on each side. As he used his hands to pull himself closer to the ledge, the fins on the side of his forearm caught your attention. His fingers flexed, causing the webbing between them to stretch. His nails were also pointed just as sharply as his ears were. 

You giggled when he pushed closer to your face, his nose almost brushing up against yours. The fins along his back moved up and down his spine, closing and opening back up. Your eyes moved to the tail that flicked behind him, its gray fins moving in the water as if it was hair.

“You look—beautiful.” You choked out, staring at his tail swishing along the waves. “Jimin, you're extraordinary.” You told him, looking back at him. 

“Thank you, beautiful.” Jimin spoke quietly, his breath hitting your lips. 

Without thinking about it, you dropped your head down and planted your lips against his plush ones. They were wet and not from him licking them. It was almost like he had gloss–and most often than not it did look like he did. But you figured it was something having to do with his abilities. 

You pulled your head back as Jimin pushed himself out of the pool, his scales and fins disappearing the more he came out of the water. You didn’t pay any attention to it though, instead placing your hands on his face to keep him close. 

Your noses bumped against each other, teeth clashing just a bit. You gasped out with something pointed touched the tip of your lips, allowing him room to slip his tongue into your mouth. It was like the end of a tentacle, but still felt like a normal tongue. It just had a weird shape to it. 

With Jimin now fully out of the water, he crawled over your body, pushing you to lay back onto the floor. You didn’t pay attention to how his skin was wet, your scrubs dried him. At least until his webbing hands moved to pull your shirt up and over your head. 

Jimin pulled back and watched as you seemed to look towards the locker room entrance, before moving your attention back to him. You watched as his eyes went glossy for a moment before smiling down at you. 

“Don’t worry, I asked Taehyung to put my sign on the door.” He told you. 

You smiled at him, enjoying how he knew what you meant with just one look. That or maybe you were just transmitting your thoughts into his without knowing. You didn’t care to think more about as Jimin went back to peppering your neck with kisses. 

Your arms wrapped around his shoulders, legs crossing behind his back as he quickly picked you up. His hands were placed under your thighs, fingers inching closer to your core that seemed to radiate so much heat. He could feel your lower lips through your scrubs, the water from his dip in the pool having soaked you through. Though even if he wasn’t wet, you were sure you would have soaked through without him. 

You back made contact with cold metal, realizing it was a bench he had set you down on. Your legs dropped from his waist which gave Jimin the moment to strip you of your pants. Raising your hips, you made a face at the wet metal. Jimin took notice and moved to grab a towel from the other end. 

“Lean up.” He told you. 

As you sat up, he was kind to place the towel down on the bench. You wanted to giggle at how domestic it seemed. You were about to have sex with Jimin in the pool area–which was public–and here he was trying to make you comfortable. 

When everything was set down, you laid back down, quickly pulling Jimin back to you causing him to gasp. 

“That was sweet of you.” You giggled, pecking his lips. 

His puffy lips pulled into a dazzling grin. “Gotta make sure you’re as comfortable as possible.”

You giggled as he began to suck on your skin again. He didn’t leave marks, only giving you kisses and a tease from his pointed tongue as it poked out from between his lips. He made his way down, your back arching as he paid close attention to your chest. He didn’t stay too long though, quickly moving down your naval and to the band of your underwear. 

You gulped as you watched his slitted eyes glance up at you. You realized how much being a siren really fit Jimin. His looks were something that called your attention. His personality was what brought you into his waters. And you were swimming deeply in them. 

When you felt the cold air brush against your core, you let out a breath. You gasped as you felt Jimin’s breath hitting your thighs, back arching as you began to feel your nerves spark from the proximity.

Jimin looked up at you with hooded eyes, his lips skimming over the skin of your thighs causing you to flinch. He looked down at your core, eyes filled with lust as he grew closer. Your legs placed themselves on his shoulders, knees going over his shoulders. 

The small flick of his pointed tongue on your clit, you gasped out loudly, almost sitting up in your haste. Jimin leaned up though, quickly holding your hips down. His tongue was long if he wanted it to be. So while the fat part of it laid against your clit, the tip probbed at your entrance. 

You were withering from the pleasure, grinding against his tongue the best you could with his arm holding you down. Your moans only seemed to spur Jimin on more as he allowed his entire appendage to enter your heat. This caused you to cry out, hands trying to reach out to grab onto something. 

Jimin moved one of hands into yours, intertwining your fingers together. You began to clench down on his tongue, but he quickly pulled back before you were able to cum. You cried, wanting to sit up and find why he had stopped. But when you looked at him, you saw him quickly taking off his swim shorts. 

Your pussy clenched as you moaned from the sight of him. Your fingers reached for the towel under you again, clenching the fabric. He crawled back over you, fingers delicately swiping against your cheeks. You took in the scales that stuck around his face, feeling breathless from how beautiful he truly was. 

“Thank you.” He whispered against your lips. 

You softly moaned when his cock fell against your lips, hot and heavy between his legs. You moved our hips in a circle, rubbing your clit along the ridges of Jimin’s cock. He groaned against your lips, pulling away to look down at where you were using him to pleasure yourself. 

With his hands on your hips, he allowed you to use him as you please. You began to whine at how he didn’t seem to help you, which made him laugh. The pout on your lips made him lean over to kiss it away. 

“I got you, Beautiful. Don’t worry.” He grinned, teeth sharp. “I’ll give you what you want.”

With his words, he took a hold of his cock and lined himself up at your entrance. But he still kept teasing you. He only allowed himself to push the tip in, smiling evilly as you began to wither from him not moving forward. 

“Jimin.” You whined, circling your hips to make him go deeper. 

“Sorry.” He giggled, leaning over you as he pushed deeper. “It’s so fun to watch you whine.”

You would have retorted something back, but he started to thrust his hips back and forth effortlessly stopping you from saying anything. The only thing that seemed to slip out from your mouth were whines and moans. It started to dry your throat out. 

Jimin’s mouth hung open as his own grunts slipped past his lips. He had his eyes squeezed shut, basking in the way you seemed to grip him. One of his arms held him up while the other was gripping your hips. 

“You gonna cum?” He whispered to you as he leaned down. 

“Come on, beautiful. I waited for you to come.” His breath hit the shell of your ear, causing goosebumps to raise on your skin. “I want to feel you fall apart on my cock.”

You cried out as your orgasm started to form. Jimin shut his eyes tightly, groaning from you squeezing around him. Just as he felt your pussy throb around him, he quickly pulled out and let go of his release on your stomach. You withered on the bench, moaning from your orgasm that was coming down. 

Once Jimin had calmed down from his own high, he began to message your legs. Your breathing was returning to normal, which made him smile. “You okay, lovely?” He called out.

“I’m fine.” You giggled, looking at him. 

“Let’s go take a shower.” He told you, grabbing your hand. 

“Is there anyone left?” You couldn’t sit up just yet, which made Jimin pick you up. 

He carried you bridal style to the locker room, not caring to pick up the clothes you had left in the pool.

“No. We are alone.” He told you. 

When he walked into the men’s locker room, you were in fact alone which made your beating heart calm down. He set you down on a bench as he prepared the shower for the both of you. You watched as he moved around to get everything, appreciating his butt. 

He sent you a playful glare at the thought, which made you giggle. Once everything was ready, you both washed away the activities of the day. Both the normal ones and the dirty. 

Series Masterlist

UPDATE. Next chapter update will be November 13 , 6:00 PM (US Central Time)

[thealiencat3]

My lavender~Yandere Damian Wayne (master/teacher) x student OC

OC: Rebecca Thomas. Age:19

It's been three years since the incident. The night is giving her same vibes of the night they met. At this time, three years ago,after spending three extra hours at school library, she didn't go home straight. Instead she roamed in the streets to avoid her French lesson. Just to get harrassed by some thugs in a dark alley. Then out of nowhere, a gentleman appeared. He covered his face with mask. He saved her from getting raped. Only then, she realised how weak she was unable to defend herself . She begged the stranger to teach her self defence and how to fight. At first, he didn't want to. But she begged again and again on her knees. like a five year old demanding a toy from his parents. " Please. Teach me how to fight. Please teach me everything you know. I'll work hard I promise" . He agreed only if she's not lazy.

Now she's 19. He still trains her. Though he's strict and rude, he helps her. She secretly developed some feelings for her strict teacher. She knows everything about him. His real name, he's being Batman's son. Just everything. Today is a very special day for her. Her master is taking her in a mission with him for the first time. She'll prove herself to her master. She's very excited. "Be careful. They'll be here in few minutes" he said. She nodded. They're here to deal with some weapon smugglers his father has been unable to catch. "They're very dangerous so don't go too far away from me" he told her. "yes master". Damian is somehow overprotective towards his student. That's true. She was too weak when he started training her. After few minutes, the smugglers arrived. Everytime, they're able to fool batman and run away. But not today. Damian stabbed the truck driver as he got out. While, Rebecca shot the others with arrows. "Check where the weapons are. I'll handle them" Damian commanded. She nodded and checked each and every truck . Few trucks were empty. While some were filled with food supplies. She couldn't find anything. When she was about to shut the door of the container of the 5th truck, she saw something suspicious among the food supplies. She was right. There were weapons hidden very carefully. Only then, someone threw a lighter inside and locked the door behind her. She panicked . She cried for her master. "MASTER!!! MASTER!!" she felt suffocating. She tried to breath "MAS..*cough* TER" . The smoke entered eyes made her unable to see anything. The container may blast anytime. She thought this is her end. Fortunately, Damian broke in. He can't bear her seeing this way. He took her out of the container and put her on his back. They ran away just few seconds before the blast. She was unconscious in his arms. He then remembered the incident about Jason. He can't imagine what would have happened to her if he couldn't save her in time . Jason hated his father because he didn't take revenge on Joker. Will she hate him too?? His heart hurts everytime he thinks like this. On the road , full of dead bodies and fire, he was holding his student. He never wants her to get hurt again. Never. Then something came to his mind. He looked at his student. With his darkest sight ever. So dark that if she was awake, she'd be afraid too. But he can't stand loosing her.

she opened her eyes. She felt herself laying on something very soft and silky. She missed sleeping on soft beds ever since she became Damian's student. She looked around only to find herself in a bedroom. No, her dream bedroom. the room was painted with het favourite colour lavender, favorite curtains and everything she liked. 'am I alive?' she thought. Her master is nowhere to be seen. She got off the bed and walked towards the window as she needs some fresh air. She tried to open but it was locked. She felt weird. Then she tried to open the door. It was locked too. She hit the door multiple times but nothing happened. Then she saw the doorknob turning. She took a few steps back. Ready to face anyone going to appear in front of her. But it was her master. Her handsome master. The man she has liked for three years. She was relieved. "Oh. You're awake" he smiled. "Master I.." he cut her off. "Just call me Damian". She frowned. "Pardon?" He let out a dark chuckle and locked the door behind him. "master. What are you doing?" She asked. He sighed. Then he smiled at her. But it wasn't a smile you can call normal or healthy. That smile was sick. No. Lovesick. She took a step back. " I'm no longer your master honey. You can now call me Damian" . " What do you mean?? What happened to you???" It wasn't him. Not the Damian she knew. He never smiled at her. At least not a lovesick smile. "Oh. Honey. You know what? I realised how precious you are to me when I was about to loose you. I can't imagine what would have happened if I wasn't there in time. You could have... Died...my baby. I can't stand loosing my lovely dear student. You're too special to be my student honey. Someone like you only deserves to be my wife". She can't belive it!!! She can't stay here any longer. She tried to break the window just like he taught her. He couldn't help but laughed. "It's worthless baby. These windows are specially designed" he said. She attacked him. At this moment, her freedom was most important to her. But he was her master. She can't defeat him. At last he got annoyed and pushed her to the bed and got on top of her. "Why are you struggling so much?? Honey. I know you love me too. I can see you looking at me with these pretty eyes and blush everytime I look at you". That's true. She loves him. But not this version. This is too much. She stated sobbing. He kissed her tears away. "Don't cry my love. It'll be over once you become mine. This is why I took you so far from the cruel world. You're so cute Rebecca. Only I can have you and no one else" . He then crashed his lips on hers. She kissed back as if this is the moment she was waiting for. Her body was betraying her. " I love you my lavender"~

[ianschip]

One boy that was my friend

In university, I felt (and still feel) so blessed to have met such friendly souls. The friends I made belonged to a generation older than mine but I fit in perfectly, I was funny and they liked my ideas; I wrote scripts for them to direct and produce. I suppose they must have liked a younger person in the group for often what immature brains lack in experience they sometimes make up for in idealism. Nothing seems impossible to them.

There was Katya who was (and is) hilarious, one time we took a cab together and we cried-laughed all trip long because we were making ridiculous sounds out loud, and it wasn’t even that funny we just had a lot of chemistry, and I’m pretty sure everyone in that cab thought we were on crack. Just remembering that ride makes me smirk. We went on having moments like that even to this day, our sense of humor is just so equally stupid we are the perfect match for each other.

So Katya’s house used to be the place where we hung out, birthday parties, christmas parties, we-just-want-to-drink-and-hang-out-parties, and so on. And there we felt very free, it was nice belonging to a group of friends who didn’t feel judgmental, and even if we did talk lip about others, we did it in their face and nobody got butt-hurt.

There was one person who would never talk lip about anyone, though, because he was sweet and his heart was soft. He would never cuss, and said ‘sorry’ for anything, and was caring. It’s hard to find the words to describe someone so sweet, specially a man. I guess he’s the type of person someone would say: he would never hurt a fly. I called him Jochechuy. A babyfied version of his real name.

So in university, I used to sneak in my friend group’s classes because it was really fun to be together. They often asked the teacher if I could come in their class even if I wasn’t taking that class. And I used to sit aside Katya, and Jochechuy used to sit aside me.

Katya-Me-Jochechuy.

And very often I used to play with Jochechuy’s hair. And it was okay because he had a girlfriend so I didn’t feel like I was flirting. And while we took our lessons together, in the same classroom, I would gently scratch his skull with my fingertips, and then he would put his hand in my knee and caress it. And that thing happened on the daily. However, it never felt sexual. It felt sweet and innocent. We never said out out loud how cozy that felt but we could sense it, we both knew. I don’t think his girlfriend knew, though.

After I graduated I never really saw him again because he lived very far away, he saw some other people from that friend group, though. I didn’t see him for years, and I missed him so much without realizing it, one could believe encountering people that sweet is common, but not for me, finding tenderness in people has been hard.

But I saw him last week. Katya made a christmas reunion. It felt like not a single day passed, I put my head on his shoulder, and he would just gently touch my face. And he would put his chair close to mine, and I wouldn’t mind. Our brains were wired like that, even after so much time passed, my chip was coded to feel completely comfortable with his touch.

The most beautiful moment of that night, and the spiritual climax of this text, happened at 3AM, when we were taking turns to play Mario Party and at one point him and I were giving the controllers to other people so we could keep playing with each other’s hair. And at one point Katya and her boyfriend noticed and Katya fell asleep and her boyfriend took both controllers and started playing Mario Party with himself, and Jochechuy and I remained there, sleepy, him caressing my arm, and I caressing his curly hair. I now know he has liked me all along and broke up with his girl because he is bisexual. Maybe I could go on to the date he suggested, he told me: let’s go for some coffee, it’s a date. I think… maybe I’m ready for new tenderness, I think I believe people can be good. We can be good. We are good.

[cassandrabeltran11]

ACADEMIC BREAK

By: MA. KRISTINA CASSANDRA A. BELTRAN

SEMESTRAL BREAK. This kind of break is typically a week long and it gives students a chance to take a breather from Classes and hopefully catch up on any work they’ve fallen behind on. The students can rest more and have more energy until the semestral break is done, and they can focus on their goals in adulthood. It allows the learners to focus on their Mental Health, as well as her/his physical fitness the learners, should have time for their selves for the reason that learning involves ruining their mental health to experience having proud parents and of course having good grades. This serves as an acceptance or a lesson for all the students. For all the students, you should be proud of your Academic achievements; if you're not satisfied you should do excellent work in the next quarter. To do that you should focus and have a goal in your life. You should think that you tried your best and if you’re best is still not what you dreamed of then have someone or something that serves as your motivation to fulfill your dream. You should think what are the advantages and disadvantages of your actions toward your studies. You need to think carefully about what you pick and do in your life. Leave the distractions behind and focus on what you’re wishing for. Every learner needs to have a bright future ahead of her/him. An academic break is what all students need right now. All students or learners should have a break because all they do is study and they also need time for themselves to take good care of . Not all students are the same. Some can’t understand quickly a lesson and some students know a lot. In other words they are born smart and the teachers adore all the students but not all the teachers are the same. Sometimes the teachers are the reasons why they pressure themselves to do their very best to make their teachers proud. But as I said not all the teachers are the same. Some good teachers support you do your best.

The semestral break started on January 24, 2024, then ended on January 30, 2024. For me the semestral break was a blessing for all the students because they had time to take care of themselves, they also had time to bond with their families. The semestral break is for resting and enjoying my life with my loved ones. It was boring but at least I had time to think and had an academic break. What is important I have extra time to communicate with my family, friends, and crushes but still focus on my goal no matter what happens. During semestral break , I just stayed at home because I wanted to have time with my brother. I didn’t want to have a semestral break because I wanted to learn more during the semestral break. I told my mother I wanted to have a tutor so I would learn something during the semester break. I didn’t do much that day because I only stayed at home but I wanted to inspire other learners to be successful. I also pressured myself during the break because this happened after our exams and honestly my exam results were not that good so I needed time to accept and review for the upcoming lessons. I enjoyed bonding with my family but I wanted to go to HONG KONG with my grandparents but I can’t come because we only have a week-long break. The break is about relaxation and I relaxed that day. I had peace of mind, and self-love and did something I needed to do with my family and friends. I went to the park and I saw Sydney riding a Viking ride so I told her I wanted to join because I have a fear of heights so I rode Viking with Sydney for the first time and I screamed my heart out because I was so terrified, I hugged Sydney so tight and I told her to tell the staff to stop the Viking because I can’t do it anymore. After that, I felt so dizzy. All I wanted to do is throw up. I told myself that time I wouldn’t ride a Viking ever again. I was too traumatized because I felt I was going to fall any moment and I felt my soul leaving my body I almost cried. I wanted to face my fears but I can’t do it. One day, I will face all my fears in the next few years. It takes time to get over something especially when I’m traumatized by something or someone. It’s nice of them to give us a break that we deserve. We suffered a lot during the classes because of the PETA’S, assignments, and quizzes. I did chores that my parents assigned me to do because I had nothing to do at home. We went to our restaurant to eat and then we went to the mall to buy toys and clothes and of course, we invited Topher to come with us to play. The more the merrier. I had so much time not only when we went to the mall but we also had time to bond with each other. We went to get my passport because we planned to go to Boracay when it was my birthday and my uncle’s birthday.

It was a memorable day for me, because of the semestral break. I made a lot of memories with my relatives. I’m grateful for the things that happened to me during that time. It gave me lessons and the relaxation that I always wanted during school days. This break also made me closer to my loved ones with all the things that we talked about when we were bored. Being close to my family or my loved ones is a good gift for me.

[zoeyfeistpoetry]

Retrospective Introspective

I started speech therapy at the age of three.

I did not understand what a Cleft Pallet was

but I knew it belonged to me.

I gargled instead of giggled. 

Only my family understood my babbling. 

Understood "Fopie" was my sister Sophie.

The only thing I understood was crafted from a memory.

Kids dressed in aprons of primary colours. 

Each with a bowl. 

Water, dish soap and ink. 

Being given a straw and told to blow and not to drink.

We all made bouncy iridescent balls of tumbling rainbow suds.

Which got bigger and messier when you carried on blowing them up. 

I concluded there was a bubble bath inside of my tummy.

Someone must have washed my mouth out with soap

while I was sleeping, and every time I spoke, 

the soap frothed up and out my nose.

And I would think:

Is this why my nose is always runny? 

Is it the soap bubbles leaking? 

Am I being punished for something? 

Am I being punished for speaking?

In my formative years, I lived in my head.

I now call these my performative years.

The first boy I ever liked was not aware of my existence.

But that did not stop us from having a fruitful relationship.

We tried to marry a handful of times on the Sports field

beneath two evergreens that grew into each other,

creating a fated and free-forming arch.

Flower girls, an officiant, bridesmaids, and groomsmen. 

An isle formed between piles of cut grass. 

I demanded dandelion bouquets, daisy crowns and boutonnières.

The whole nine yards, fulfilled by nine-year-olds.

Humming the hymns, they had rehearsed in assembly.

However, my fiancé never made it.

Thwarted by malign stars.

Understudies had to take his place.

I refused to reschedule.

It was better to improvise the scene.

Preserve my dignity. 

Marry the stranger.

Annul later, after lunch, alone. 

Or play divorce tomorrow at break time. 

I remember this day so vividly.

One where the spotlights were on me.

But for once, I didn't have any desire for them to be. 

I got in trouble for not listening in class.

For talking to others, but I didn't know how to stop. 

My punishment: embarrassment. 

One of my biggest fears. 

I would feel sick and shake and get a red face and hot ears.

And the teacher, whose name I have gladly forgotten.

Made me stand up. Made everyone watch. 

Asked me if I had done any times tables revision. 

To both of our surprise 

I said yes, but I knew I had not.  

She made me recite, out loud, the times' threes.

I remember avoiding her eyes, talking at the floor.

I started reciting my threes, but they mixed up with my fours.

And she made me get the times' tables book but,

I had left it at home, again. 

So, she shouted at me, and I cried and, 

at that moment, I internalized,

Too much guilt and shame to attempt to describe. 

I remember starting a new school in year four.

New uniform, new peers, new subjects to endure. 

Feeling pathetic and apathetic, I knew I wasn't supposed to be there.

I distrusted my new teacher as he said he had never taught before.

He was short and would gnaw pens until they burst in his jaw.

Ink would splatter on his face, hands, shirts, and ties.

I was not the one who needed to learn a lesson in my eyes. 

Eventually, I would feel claustrophobic in the classroom:

Choked by cacophonous murmurs of mental maths.

Irritated by shuffling chairs against sandpaper carpets. 

A ticking and tock-ing provoking from a clock, I couldn't read. 

To avoid attention and tears I would have to leave

I always left without asking permission.

Anxious eyes were hidden from the teacher's vision.

Fearful, he would crouch down beside me.

Glazed eyes and pen breath.

Repeating the exact vague instructions.

Until one of us had no patience left. 

Never sure of time passing and barefaced to broken rules.

I would get lost for too long in the reverie of halls.

Pausing for self-portraits, Picasso's painted by tots. 

High fiving the Cueva de las Manos, stretched on unbalanced tiptoes.

Marvelling at murals, tsunamis of colour washed away my woes.

A school friends mother taught me to read in year five. 

I was already ten and should have had comprehended comprehension by then.

She was the teaching assistant in my class. 

She would take me out of lessons for extra reading sessions.

I was just happy to miss maths.

I read at a slower pace, still reading key stage one. 

While everyone else read about Hogwarts and Narnia 

I was stuck with Biff and Chip and a time-travelling magic key.

I was very used to their adventures.

I would try to deduce the plots.

Make use of the illustrations and guess a lot. 

Reading phonetically tested my patience, but she stopped me from storming off. 

Making me finish the book no matter how long it took.

I remember the moment reading made sense. 

When the last puzzle piece had been dropped.

When the key shone gold, and the door was unlocked. 

I could read a whole sentence, and it would make sense.

Reading now felt like breathing! 

Pride in myself, an unexplored and unusual feeling. 

I owe her to this day for paying attention and,

For noticing that I couldn't pay attention.

Because of her, I embarked on innumerable adventures.

I could now escape into big kid fantasies.

Her lessons were the magic key to my success. 

So, in secondary school, my silly little daydreams became silly little jokes. 

Incapable of focusing or asking for help. 

I turned toward clowning to cope. 

It was easier to make people laugh than to do long-division.

Blindly copying calculus in class,

deflecting equations with anecdotes and wisecracks,

Comedy became currency. 

Imagination: both blessing and curse. 

My friends wanted me with them in lessons and,

I wanted to appear to be doing well and not dwell on my shortcomings.

I was a student striving to be marginalized. 

Surviving by being undetectable.

Drawing little attention to myself or 

the doodles in my margins.

When I finally did ask for help, 

Nobody believed me.

Assuming it to be part of my act.

I was Ian Cognito.

So, I stopped asking for help.

Nobody likes a sad clown. 

[yanderechuu]

do any of the teachers ever notice the things happening to y/n? (i headcannon Mic and Midnight as yanderes that would give advice to 1A lol)

yandere!Class 1A x fem!reader

[2.1K]

Summary: Aizawa is the first one you approached in regards to your certain predicament.

Warning: nonconsensual recording

│

Aizawa suspected something wasn’t quite right by the moment he saw you entering the class a minute before the bell rang, all haggard and teary-eyed, though you tried your best to obscure your disposition. He always knew you to often be in a state of discomfort whenever you were compelled to socialize, especially with your classmates, but now - you looked as if you reached your limit of holding the weight of the world on your shoulders, crashing down all at once as depicted on your crestfallen expression. 

And when you showed up in front of the faculty room, timidly soliciting his presence, his suspicions were only further verified. Even with a pending question regarding subject matters in your mind, you weren’t one to approach a teacher to inquire about it, and if you did it was because the teacher was the one who would ask your attendance; never the other way around.

Present Mic was the first one to acknowledge you. He stood up from his office chair, waving at you comically. “Yo, (l/n)! Having trouble with English again?”

You never had a problem with his subject; he only insisted that you’d come to him in regards to that. “N-no, not really. May I speak to Aizawa-sensei?”

“Talk with me instead!” He enthusiastically spoke and headed over to you. “Come on, what’s the matter?”

“It isn’t your place to ask that when I’m here.” Aizawa interceded, clearly unimpressed by Mic’s antics. He failed to see the latter’s displeased countenance. “(L/n), what is it?”

You avoided eye contact with him, averting your view to the ground - that was alright. You were always like this, and he didn’t mind. Nothing out of place except for the fact that it looked as if you were about to cry any moment now.

“Can we- can we, um, talk somewhere more private?” You asked quietly.

His brows raised in wonder at your request. Nevertheless, he didn’t decline you, only nodding lackadaisically before heading towards the teacher’s lounge, where you followed him suit. He flicked the door tag to ‘occupied’ and entered the room after you, when he told you sit on the three-person sofa situated not quite on the farthest left of the space. Then, he settled himself on the chair across you.

“Well?” He asked, expectantly.

But you had once again your head above a thick cloud of anxiety. You knew that after the event with Momo in the girls’ locker room - where you had injured her against your will because she had been violating your personal space - your homeroom teacher kept a cautious eye on you in case you’d re-enact that incident. And it wasn’t just that incident that made him look at you like you were a criminal on the loose, either. Your classmates found and did a lot of ways to place you in Aizawa’s naughty list just so you wouldn’t snitch on their abusive (they’d call it affectionate) behavior on you.

That didn’t erase the fact that you were nevertheless his student; he cared for you no less than he cared for his other pupils, yet you were just too ignorant in figuring that out. All that mattered to you was that you’d voice out your current concern to him, but with your insecurities holding you down it seemed it would be more difficult than you had primarily foreseen it to be.

“I-I,” you stammered out, fiddling with something inside your pocket, “u-um, you see, t-there’s this, I mean, I can’t-”

He grew increasingly frustrated with your constant stuttering, and although he did understand your shy nature which largely affected your conversational habits, he only had so much patience to deal with it.

“I don’t have all day.” He stated, glowering at your form in mild irritation. “If you’re going to keep doing that, talk to the wall.”

You abruptly halted in speaking after that, only looking down on your lap, staring wide-eyed, grief-stricken at the revelation that perhaps he really did not want to heed any of your words because you were just that bad of a student that he had decided you were not worth much the effort to concern himself with. And maybe he was right - that your words didn’t matter because you didn’t matter; that there were more affairs he better be tending to than yours; that you were only making a big deal out of this when it truthfully wasn’t.

Oh god, you felt like vomiting. Self-deprecation was getting the better of you.

He stood up and sauntered to the exit, not bothering to spare you a glance. “Come back to me when you actually know what you want to say.”

It was a matter of seconds when you ran to him, pulling him back rather harshly by the grip you had on his sleeve. He turned around due to the force to see your head still hung low, avoiding his gaze as always - only, your shoulders were quivering sporadically, and occasional sniffs were heard from your person.

“P-please, sensei...” you voiced out, shaken and horrifyingly delicate. “I-I’m so scared. Please.”

While he looked at you with contracted irises, countenance now alert from your unexpected disposition, you pulled your trembling hand out of your skirt pocket, nervously disclosing to him from your palm a small, black device with a tiny yet prominent lens.

“M-my room,” you heaved, “I-I saw this i-in my room, m-my closet, while- while I was dressing up, and I don’t know how long it had been in there but it probably already caught me bare and-”

You broke down in a flurry misery and shame, allowing yourself to fall to the ground but you didn’t - Aizawa seized you in his arms, his gentle, fatherly arms that could only do so much to console you from the horror of your reality. And he held your head as you cried on his chest, one little thing he could do after ignoring your situation and letting you think that your significance was less than the rest of his other students. At that moment, you were just so little, so fragile, so naïve he’d keep you in his pocket if he could. Why would someone do something as debauched as illegally recording your innocent self?

“I’m sor-sorry,” you sobbed, “I’m really telling the truth, p-please-”

“Shh, it’s okay. I don’t doubt you.” He reassured. Why were you apologizing? Were you that insecure of being a nuisance? No, no, you never were. Not to him. He reached for your hand to take the cursed device. “Since when did you find out?”

“J-just this morning.” You responded.

“Alright. Do you want to rest? This must have taken a huge toll on you.”

But you still had classes ongoing. Then again, you didn’t feel like looking at the faces of the prime suspects who possibly did you dirty, even when you knew that you’d have to eventually interact with them to get notes of your missed lessons. You were so tired from summoning the lot of your courage to confront your teacher regarding your problem, so you probably wouldn’t have the energy to listen to class discussion. Aizawa finalized your decision by pulling you up and guiding you towards the office of Recovery Girl who, after being briefed of your predicament by your homeroom teacher, welcomed you with a warm smile, telling you to make yourself comfortable in one of the beds in the infirmary.

He then made his way to 1A classroom, a newfound swelling of rage and disappointment in his chest, both forwarded to his class and to himself because only now did he realize that perhaps you were often so restless and apprehensive in the presence of your classmates because they did things that made you bury yourself in the deepest parts of your shell as a last attempt to revel in a sense of safety. Your timidity was not entirely derived from your own nature; it was also due to the maltreatment you were receiving from your classmates. Halting his steps by the classroom door, he looked through the glass window, seeing the class focusing on Midnight’s lecture.

Well, not quite. He could tell that your classmates were visibly affected by the lack of your presence, glancing at your desk from time to time as quiz papers were being passed behind - so they were in the middle of a test, he guessed. But that wasn’t his concern.

In impudent manner, he walked in amid Midnight’s talking, disregarding her face’s sudden morphing into vexation as the students gave him a look of confusion.

“Eraser, what are you-” she was rudely interrupted as Aizawa took the test reference papers from her hands. Something about Modern Hero Art History, he read. He faced his class with disdain, stating,

“Until someone confesses their crime of hiding a spy camera on (l/n)’s dorm room, all of you are receiving failing marks on this test.”

Quite suddenly, the class burst into violent upheaval, gasping, perking, some allowing the dreadful news of your situation to sink in, others letting out noises of complaint before actually taking consideration to the main point of Aizawa’s statement. Midnight stared at him in disbelief, but did nothing to stop his measures.

Momo abruptly stood. “I-is (y/n) okay? We should go check on her!”

“No, you shouldn’t.” Aizawa said. “All of you are suspects. You’ve no right to see her.”

“She probably just made that up get back on us for whatever fucking reason!” Yelled Bakugou.

“Yeah?” The male pro-hero disingenuously mused. He then picked up the spy camera and held it for everyone to see, before setting it down the teacher’s podium. “This was found on her closet. Would she risk recording herself naked just to prove that point?”

Noise died down thereafter, setting their sights solemnly at the device, the class collectively having the same thought in regards to the spy camera.

(Why hadn’t they thought of that? It could have been easier to check on you that way, since you almost always confined yourself in the privacy of your own room.)

“So? No one wants to speak up?” Aizawa asked, though expected the silence.

“Aizawa, have them approach you after classes. It’s embarrassing this way.” Midnight intervened.

“Well that’s the point. Get them exposed to the entire class, so everyone could realize how much of a perverted bastard one of these to-be heroes are. Good values, my ass.” He replied, not bothering to filter rather colorful vocabulary. “Where’s your dignity?”

He let a minute or two pass for the perpetrator to reveal themselves, but soon it became apparent that whomever they were refused to admit to their crime, willing to sacrifice the grades of the class for the sake of anonymity. That would be deemed useless, anyway, because Aizawa was already set on figuring out whom they were, no matter the extent he’d go to in order for that to happen. He’d expel them at once.

But he didn’t have the power to expel someone outside of his class.

“I guess that’s it for your test.” He sighed, disgruntled, picking up the small camera and sauntering his way out of the classroom after giving Midnight a look that he was dead serious with marking all of them a failing score. She stared at him in uncertainty, nonetheless abided by his decisions, albeit hesitantly.

Upon ascertaining his absence, Midnight turned to Class 1A, amusement and humor dancing on her seductive countenance.

“Naïve, hormonal teenagers,” she mused, “the closet, really? Couldn’t you have chosen somewhere less conspicuous?”

None of them bothered to tell her that they were truthfully unaware of the incident.

===

Hagakure Toru, stealth hero, entered your room silently in the nude, the only proof of her movements being a tinier, different spy camera she’d brought along with her. No, not the closet, you might find it again. It looked so painfully obvious on the desk, too, and neither in the bathroom due to its pale white interior. 

But on the pencil holder situated atop your nightstand would do. You barely moved it, anyway, only having its purpose served as a decoration; something to fill the vacancy of the bedside table. After a few adjustments in camouflaging the device with the environment and making sure the lens displayed the area of your space, Hagakure checked its concealment one more time, before mechanically heading outside and back to her own dorm. 

Her body collided almost violently with her room’s door, snapping her out of her trance. 

“H-huh!? Weird... how’d I end up in my room?” She asked, receiving no answer from particularly anyone.

But Shinso Hitoshi could provide her one, if only he weren’t outside, staring at your terrace from five stories down your room, a gratifying smirk donned on his features. Now, the only thing he had to do was dismantle and relocate the gadgets wirelessly connected with the camera Aizawa had confiscated.

[redrobin-detective]

The late Daniel Fenton

It was shaping up to be a beautiful if chilly December day and Casper High, as always, was bustling. It was 7:49 and class was about to start. The teacher watched the last few kids stumbling in at various levels of wakefulness. He already knew who would be the ones to rush in after the bell but that was alright. Life was too short to stress about being a few minutes late to class, especially in Amity Park of all places.

He looked up to see Madison, one of his shyer students walk in before making a beeline for his desk. She was biting her lip and nervously rubbing her hand down her skirt. “Hey,” she began quietly.

“Good morning. What’s up, Mads?” He asked casually. She looked upset, he could probably put on a video for the class if she needed to talk. They really needed a permanent counselor but the constant ghost attacks ran off most of them so he’d taken up the unofficial mantle. It felt good to help his students like that, make up for past wrongs.

“Are we um, expecting any new students?” She asked, her eyes darting over to the door she’d just come through. “Any transfers, exchange students or anything like that?”

“No,” the teacher frowned. “Amity isn’t the kind of place people transfer into. Why?”

“There’s a kid in the hallway,” she mumbled. “I don’t recognize him, he’s got a backpack and everything but he’s... I don’t know he doesn’t feel right.”

“Oh you’re talking about that weird dark haired kid,” Kyle said as he entered and sat down with a slouch. But even the class slacker looked unusually tense. “Dude’s creepy, can’t put my finger on why but he definitely doesn’t belong.”

“Oh,” was all the teacher had to say. Suddenly he realized how cold the classroom had become, the uncomfortable feeling that was pressing ever so slightly down on them. “I suppose it makes sense, the ghosts have been quiet lately with the Truce and all. He probably got bored.”

“Sir?” Madison said.

“Shannon,” he said instead, looking over at the frizzy haired girl hunched over her sketchbook furiously at work. “Would you do me a favor and move to the vacant seat in the second row? Just for today.”

“What? Why?” the girl whined even as she gathered up her various arts supplies and got ready to move.

“That’s Mr. Fenton’s seat,” he said taking in a deep breath and closing his eyes in preparation for what he was about to see. Danny would come here, of course he would. This was Lancer’s old classroom and Danny had him for first period English Lit. He and Dash both did.

“Mr. Baxter? What’s going on, is it a ghost?” Malik asked from the back row while Shannon shuffled to her new temporary seat.

“Yes but you don’t need to be scared,” he said softly, evenly. “He won’t hurt you.” The bell rang but Dash didn’t start the lesson. Instead, he waited. Danny had never been on time to class the entire time Dash had known him, of course death wouldn’t change that.

“Sorry, I’m late Mr. Lancer,” Dash gripped his desk so he didn’t jump when Danny Fenton simply appeared in front of his desk instead of walking through the door like any other student. “My folks couldn’t drive me, they’re still working on their stupid ghost portal.” A quick glance over at this class showed varying levels of fear, shock and curiosity but they were Amity kids through and through. The cold, powerful energy radiating off Fenton told them it was best to play along with whatever the ghost wanted.

“Perfectly alright Mr. Fenton,” Dash said softly, searching the 14 year old’s perpetually young face. He hadn’t changed a bit since Dash last saw him their second week of freshman year. It seemed unreal seeing how the years had taken their toll on Casper’s favorite son, Dash Baxter. God had they really been that young once? “Take a seat and we’ll get started.”

Danny shrugged and walked over to the seat Shannon had just vacated. He sat just the same, one leg stretched out and the other propped up against the leg of the desk. As soon as he took off the backpack and put it around the chair, it disappeared. He didn’t say anything else, just sat as stared at Dash with piercing blue eyes like he could see right through him.

“We had been talking about the lead up to the Civil War but let’s table that for today,” Dash said, proud his voice only wavered a little. He knew other people had seen Fenton around town. Lina saw him standing outside the Nasty Burger maybe five or so years ago. Dale, who used to live near Fenton Works swore he sometimes saw someone moving through the windows of the long abandoned house. He’d always secretly dreaded the thought of seeing Danny Fenton again, afraid he’d finally get was coming to him.

“Instead, we’re going to talk about local history,” he continued, not daring to take his eyes off the undead teen. Every other living student was tense, afraid. He wished he could assure them that the ghost wouldn’t lay a hand on them. In the event Fenton decided to ditch the hero schtick, it would be Dash and Dash alone he’d come after. “Amity Park has long had rumors of being haunted dating all the way back to the 1600s. It wasn’t until the last century that scientists determined that Amity Park is located on top of a thin spot between our world and the ghost realm. Natural portals form here all the time allowing spirits to pass through.”

No one spoke and barely anyone breathed except for Danny would wasn’t breathing at all. He just sat and stared at Dash with steady, unblinking eyes.

“Jack and Maddie Fenton were the scientists who discovered the weak point in reality in Amity. They devoted their entire life to the study of ghosts and made remarkable advancements in our knowledge of ectobiology and culture, the first being,” he paused as Danny cocked his head in confusion, squinting his eyes suspiciously at Dash. “The first being their manmade portal to the ghost zone. The portal remained active for almost two decades for research purposes but was shut down following their deaths.”

“You’re not Mr. Lancer,” Danny said suddenly, his eyes shifting from baby blue to an ectoplasmic green. Marty, who was sitting to the left of Danny, swallowed a squeak of fear and squeezed his eyes shut.

“No,” Dash sighed, “Lancer died almost thirty years ago now. Best teacher I ever had, he gave me his blessing when he passed on the job to me.”

“I,” the ghost ran his hand through his hair which was starting to lose its color. Seeing Fenton looking so scared and confused made him ache. It reminded him of old times. Dash had spent most of his life making sure he helped hurt kids if only to make up for the one he’d never been able to make it up to. “I don’t understand.”

“It’s okay, Danny,” he soothed. “I know it’s a lot to take in.”

“The portal, it wasn’t working at first,” Danny justified, his aura glowing a little more. “Sam and Tuck, they were curious. They wanted to look but I told them it wasn’t allowed, Sam, Sam she dared me to go in. I put on the hazmat suit and went inside and found the on button inside. I accidentally hit it and-” he paused midsentence and looked down at his hands. They weren’t pale flesh anymore but covered in white gloves. The black was completely bleached from his hair. A few of the students gasped as they saw the strange would be student melt into Phantom, the ghostly hero who’d been protecting their town since their parents were young. “I died.”

So much time had gone by. People were born and people were buried and the truth became distorted until it was just a legend passed jokingly around cafeteria lunch tables. Amity’s youth had forgotten their town’s history until it was sitting in a desk, trying once more to be one of them.

“You did,” Dash said sadly. He remembered hearing the news of Fenton's death. An assembly had been called the morning after the accident. Lancer had cried at the podium, Manson and Foley hadn’t returned to school for a week and had never been the same again. Dash hadn’t known what to think at the time, only that the kid he’d beat up for the crime of being different would never show up to school again. Or so he’d thought. “It was a tragedy, you were mourned by a lot of people.”

“I know you, don’t I?” Danny said quietly before he sat up straighter. “Dash?”

“In the flesh,” Dash grinned shakily.

“But you’re so old,” Danny said, once more distressed. “Your hair is grey and there’s wrinkles on your face and-and you’re a teacher now?” The last line was said with incredulity, his eyes flaring again. “You used to push me down the stone steps of the school and shove me into my locker and call me names.”

“Yeah, I did,” he sighed, feeling every one of his years. He was pushing 70 but he didn’t think he’d ever stop feeling like a stupid 14 year old who took out his frustrations on the ones who didn’t deserve it. “But you were the last; I never touched another kid again. I’m married now, four kids. I’m vice principal now, teach History and coach the school’s football team. It’s,” his voice caught again, still unable to process how young and stupid Fenton looked sitting there like no time had passed at all. It made Dash feel like all his accomplishments and attempts to be better would never amount to anything so long as his last victim roamed the earth unable to find peace. “It doesn’t fix what I did back then but I make damn sure that there won’t be any bullying at Casper so long as I’m here.”

“Huh,” Danny said, slouching once more in his seat but it looked less like his earlier teenage laziness and more weary. He and Dash were the same age after all, just because only one of them got old doesn’t mean time didn’t still affect them. “You did change, a lot of things did.” Danny looked down at the desk, “how long has it been?”

“Almost 50 years,” Dash sighed. “My wife wants me to retire but I guess I always find more things to do.” He paused then decided it was now or never. “I’m sorry Danny, for hurting you back then. I wish I'd gotten to know you better.”

For just a moment, Danny was perfectly clear. Even half floating out of his chair and looking like the local celebrity, his eyes were so painfully human. A boy killed before he ever got a chance to get started. Who’s will to protect was so strong it lasted half a century. It haunted him late at night to think of the glory and power of Phantom overshadowing just how incredible Danny Fenton had been. Not that anyone had seen it at the time. Soon there wouldn’t be anyone left to remember that quiet, kind teenager and then Danny Fenton really would be dead. Kill him just as thoroughly as that portal had.

The moment was broken by a breath of cold leaking out of the ghost’s lips and, just like that, his highschool classmate was gone and Phantom was left in his stead. He looked curiously around the classroom as if he didn’t know how he’d gotten there.

“There’s a ghost, stay here and don’t leave unless the fighting gets too close. I’ll get it though, don’t worry. No kids are dying today.” Maybe it was Dash’s imagination but he thought he saw Phantom’s eyes linger on him for an extra moment, trying to place where he knew the teacher from. Dash just smiled.

“Our lives are in your hands. Good luck, Phantom,” the ghost teen saluted before fading away entirely. Dash let out the breath he didn’t know he’d been holding, suddenly exhausted but also lighter at the same time. It wasn’t every day you got to look your mistakes in the face and apologize. “Shannon, you can move back now.”

“No, I’m okay here,” Shannon said as she flipped to a new page in her sketchbook and looked intently at the spot where Fenton had once sat. “It’s like you said, that’s Danny’s seat.”

“I had no idea, Phantom’s been around for like, ever,” Freddie mumbled, pushing up his glasses. “But he used to be just like us.” And still was, Dash thought sadly. Danny would never grow old, never go to space like he’d always dreamed or marry Manson like he’d probably intended to. He was stuck, in more ways than one for who knows how long.

“Yes, that’s why it’s important to know your history. The Civil War and my other lessons are important but we can’t forget these smaller, more intimate histories. If we lose these lessons to time then we risk repeating the same mistakes over again.” He looked his students in the eyes, holding their attention.

“So we’ll continue today with the local history. Before he was ghost butt kicking superhero, Phantom was Danny Fenton, son of the local ghost hunters and a bit of an outcast in town. The Daniel Fenton Foundation was founded about a year after his death and was-”

[whatifyoulivelikethat]

snake | myg

pairing(s): yoongi x reader

summary: Your parents have no qualms on doing whatever they can to climb the social ladder. That includes assigning you a betrothed you've never met, an offering to the crown prince. You, the one the gossipers whisper under their breath... the Snake Princess.

warnings: implied parental emotional and physical abuse; language; non-idol!AU - prince!Yoongi x aristocrat!reader, ft overprotective (but secretly soft), tattooed, little brother!JK; based on this

–

“I don’t care what our father said, you’re not marrying him!”

You scratched your ear, partly shielding it from the loud voice of your brother.

“He’s an asshole!”

“You don’t know him?” you offered, affixing your earring, somewhat annoyed. The yellow gold wasn’t quite your style. Your parents liked such gaudy, ugly things.

Both in fashion and tradition, unfortunately.

“Do you?” your brother shot back, throwing himself up from your bed where he was yelling at the ceiling about nothing he could change. It was a favorite past time of his, along with following you around like a talkative shadow.

“No, that’s why I’m meeting him today,” you replied dryly. You switched to the other ear, adding the dragon-shaped ear cuff above the gold earring. Your parents hated it when you added such aggressive accessories – they’re not womanly, they would say – but if you were going to be betrothed to some guy on the sole basis that they had ambitions and he was the man who so happened to be the next-in-line for the throne, you weren’t going to lie about what kind of woman you were.

“Aren’t you pissed?”

You shrugged. “Is it so bad?”

“Yes!”

You sighed and flickered your eyes to the mirror, seeing Jeon Jungkook’s furious expression, long black hair tied back with lingering strands framing his high cheekbones, his black and gold robes wild, poorly tied and revealing half of his tanned, toned chest. His dark brown eyes flashed, pressing his cherry-painted lips together, jawline sharp and defiant. That’s how Jungkook always looked, messy, undone, borderline furious.

Everyone called him the Reckless Prince.

You just called him little brother.

“Noona…”

“Hmm?”

You saw him frown and you looked away, running a hand through your hair, browsing your hair accessories. You used to have an aide to help you at one point, but you told your parents to get rid of them, preferring to get ready by yourself. And besides, Jungkook liked to burst in and interrupt you with his relentless tirades about how unfair your arranged marriage was. There was no point in having hired help when you could coerce your brother into doing things as you put up with him.

“Can I brush your hair?”

“You have arms and hands, so you’re physically capable, yes.”

You heard him click his tongue in annoyance and smirked, shifting your eyes to the mirror. He was behind you now, face no longer visible. It didn’t matter. You already knew his cross expression quite well. He snatched the ornate comb from your vanity, the black snake head clearly visible on the side of his right wrist, inked near his thumb. Your parents scolded and beat him for getting it, but Jungkook could care less, breaking the wooden paddle with ease, right out of your mother’s hand.

You hadn’t said anything.

The rumors called you the Snake Princess.

Quick-witted, sharp, vicious. Not to your face though, because that was just foolishness. It wouldn’t be only your wrath they would be evoking.

Jungkook ran the comb through your hair, gently separating the strands, careful not to pull too hard. He was better than any aide anyway. They merely yanked and pulled you into their standard of beauty, ignoring your opinions or input, always citing that it was important to not look like a peasant, important to always look above your status, using your beauty to save face.

Saving face.

You hated those words.

“What if he’s a horrible person?” your brother asked quietly, tucking the strands away from your eyes only for them to slip back stubbornly.

“Then he’s a horrible person,” you replied, applying your makeup. “And you’ll probably do something about it.”

Jungkook made a noise between an aggravated bear and an injured tiger.

“If he so much as puts one fingertip on you, I’ll kill him.”

You snorted. “I’d hate to tell you what marriage entails, Jungkook.”

The comb in your hair paused.

His anger subsided, just like that.

“You’re really going to do it?” he asked softly. “Really, really?”

You heard the pain in Jungkook’s voice.

You recalled when you received the news many years ago, silent fury as your parents gave you away, turning you into a transaction to raise their own reputation and status. Your reaction was nothing to your little brother’s, him running to your room and crying in your arms, distraught and upset that you were leaving him, declaring he hated your parents, everyone, and everything.

“You’re supposed to protect me,” Jungkook had sobbed, already too big for you to hold like this but you did anyway, patting his head and wiping his tears with your sleeve. “You’re supposed to be here, with me, forever and always.”

He had taken your hand, tucking his fingers in yours, pressing your pinkies together.

“You promised me.”

And you had, from the very beginning, the shy kid always following after you and making you speak for him, your parents yelling and scolding him to be a man, but you defending him, taking the slaps meant for him, sneaking him sweets when he was hiding his tears, telling him it was okay to cry and that noona would stay here and listen to his worries, no matter if it was as stupid as a butterfly flying away or the teacher once again reprimanding him for his poor scores.

The amount of pressure they put on him just because he was the son was immense.

“I wanna play,” he had cried softly. “I don’t have to study anymore.”

“You want to be stupid?” you had teased, patting his head. “What if I had my lessons with you? I can make that happen.”

“R-Really?”

So, you made it happen, telling your parents and tutors that it would be better for him to be exposed to more complex concepts earlier rather than later and watching someone learn would improve his own scores. You made yourself a better student for his benefit and he, in turn, followed obediently, doing what you did, always overjoyed to hear your praise.

You and your snake tongue could made anything happen for him.

“This servant is bothering me.”

You found some questionable information on that servant and they resigned rather quickly.

“I don’t like the girl our father introduced me to.”

Suddenly said girl was no longer interested in Jungkook. For… reasons.

“I wish I could go on vacation, even for a couple days.”

That one got you both beaten for your three-day adventure to the sea, mostly because you had to run away from your duties to do it. But it was worth it to see the smile on Jungkook’s face.

Then Jungkook became a teenager.

You might have taught him that rules were for old people, for the generation too uptight.

He wanted to do a whole lot of things and you made it happen. Getting him out of those sticky situations was a bit tough, but nothing unmanageable. And now Jungkook was a young adult who did not care about anyone’s opinion other than yours, getting tattooed and spending all of his time with his friends, lackadaisical and free, your parents giving up and calling him a disgrace, relying on your marriage to restore the reputation they valued so much, the face they themselves ruined with their own poor decisions, taking out their frustrations on you and Jungkook, sometimes without warning.

You stayed home, playing good daughter so Jungkook could be the bad son.

Ah, maybe it was your fault he was the Reckless Prince.

You turned, looking up at him now from the corner of your eye, up his loose robes and exposed collarbone, up the line of his jaw that was similar to yours, his lips not quite as full, his round brown orbs that were actually much more innocent and purer than he liked to admit, similar to your eye shape.

But not the same.

Because your eyes were sharper, cold-blooded, predatory.

Even with Jungkook, there was no mistaking the power behind your gaze.

“Do you think just because I’m married to some man that he can control my life?” you said with a sly smile, your lips painted lush red. “I’ll come visit you whenever I want. You can come whenever you want. You can live with me if you want.”

You turned back, sweeping your hair and twisting it in place, deftly and quickly pinning it back, leaving some strands loose and messy that your parents would highly disapprove of, but why did that matter? If this man was to be your husband, then he would see you completely undone at one point, so he should get used to it.

Your parents wouldn’t approve of the black and dark green combination you had chosen either, but that’s why you learned how to sew to dress yourself as you liked. You have to be a lady. You were a lady. Just your version of a lady and not theirs. They tried to gatekeep you by saying that the pink and yellow fabrics were all they could afford. They had a tendency to underestimate your craftiness.

No obstacle was too high for the Snake Princess to slither over.

“Really?” Jungkook asked as you stood up, smoothly adjusting the tie at your waist.

You chuckled at him as he began to follow you out of your bedroom.

“If that’s what you want, I’ll do it for you.”

-

“You brought your brother.”

“I don’t bring him anywhere. He comes and goes as he pleases.”

Jungkook was sitting behind you, arms crossed, glaring at the dark-haired man sitting in front of you. You had mildly fixed his appearance before entering only from him to push up his sleeves so he could reveal the entire snake tattoo wrapped around his arm, a black snake surrounded by thorned vines.

“Hmm.”

This man had requested to meet you first, alone, without the parents. Untraditional, but as long as his father agreed to the request, it was done. Your father had no say in the matter, although he did protest rather loudly and uncouthly.

You had poured the tea for your future husband and you.

Neither of you were drinking it.

The man before you had a piercing gaze, cloud-white skin, shapely lips. Somehow, he surprised you by being dressed in black and gold as well, although he was much neater than Jungkook, black hair tied back in a the usual, curated traditional style.

“I intend in marrying you, you know.”

He had a deep, rough voice, reminding you of dead leaves and winter.

“Is that not the point of this meeting?” was your dry response.

A dark eyebrow lifted.

Jungkook clicked his tongue dismissively.

Those shapely lips curved into a slow smirk.

“I thought I wouldn’t like you,” the dark-haired man mused, reaching over to the teacup and pulling it to him. “I was fully prepared to refuse this proposal and put your family more in the dirt than your brother has already put them into.”

“You bas–” Jungkook hissed, but you held up a hand, cutting him off.

You kept your eyes on those dark brown orbs, cat-like and predatory. He took a deep inhale of the aroma of the tea, letting out a satisfied, smokey sigh.

“I thought you would be like the others. Prim, proper, begging for me to take your hand.”

You raised an eyebrow. “What do I need to beg for? You either will or you won’t. It has nothing to do with me.”

A dark chuckle. “Indeed.”

He took a long sip of the tea, savoring it. You watched him swallow, his Adam’s apple bobbing, tongue flickering out to lick his lips. Slowly lowering his head, scrutinizing gaze on you. He made you wait for his words.

“And besides, snakes can’t kneel, can they, Snake Princess?” he purred.

“Don’t you dare call her that!”

“No, they cannot,” you replied calmly, ignoring Jungkook’s outburst, staring into the eyes of the man who was going to decide whether or not you were going to be his wife.

“They can’t pray either.”

The dark-haired man tilted his head, intrigued.

“I have no need for gods to be able to live the life I want, Min Yoongi,” you said quietly, venomous edge to your voice. “The ties you put on me cannot restrain me from living as frivolously or ambitiously as I like.”

Min Yoongi, the man who would decide whether you would live an honorable or disgraceful life, the man who was next-in-line, the crown prince. You were meant to be his, but, unlike you, he was free to refuse. Unlike you, he had nothing to lose. Unlike you, he could destroy your life in a heartbeat with a simple no.

“You believe that?” Yoongi questioned, daring you.

You didn’t back down, small serpentine smile on your lips.

“I do not need to believe when I know.”

Silence.

Then Yoongi’s shoulders shook, raspy laughing bubbling from his throat, smirk on his lips.

“You want me to refuse. You want to ruin your parents’ lives.”

You didn’t say anything, your smile fading.

“Ah, but the problem is, I really do like you, Snake Princess,” Yoongi hummed. “You sharp tongue and you even sharper mind. A simpler man would have been tricked by you.” He tapped his long fingers against the table, keeping his feline poise directed at you. “I did not want some placid, useless little thing but a real woman, someone who isn’t afraid to say what she thinks. Why have a trophy when you can have a weapon?”

He placed his chin on the back of his other hand, clicking his tongue thoughtfully.

“What shall we do then? You absolutely must be my wife.”

“You–” Jungkook hissed, rising up behind you, glaring at Yoongi over your shoulder. “You know she doesn’t want to marry you and yet you’re going to do it anyway?”

The dark-haired man raised an eyebrow. “She doesn’t want to marry me because she wants her parents to pay for using her so carelessly to further their status. However,” he added with a sweep of his hand on the table, palm upward towards you. “Has she actually said she has no interest in me as a person? During this entire meeting, has she declared that I, the crown prince, am not to her liking?”

Yoongi gave Jungkook a sharp look.

“Do you think she would hide her disdain for me if she had some?”

Silence.

“N… Noona?”

“Yes, Jungkook?”

“You don’t like him at all… right?”

Silence.

You let out a deep breath, slow and controlled.

“Hmm, you are very intuitive.”

Yoongi grinned. “You know we would be a good match, you and I. Here,” he murmured, pointing to the table. “On the throne.” Pointing outside, indicating the land. His cat-like eyes locked with your snake-like gaze, lips forming his next words slowly and deliberately.

“In bed.”

Your eyes trailed from those glittering dark eyes to his pleased smirk. Not a malicious expression somehow. An exciting one. You fully expected to be walking into this room to tear down an arrogant, gaudy man with grandiose self-centeredness.

Instead, it was Min Yoongi.

He ticked his chin to Jungkook, now right next you instead of behind you, clutching your arm tightly.

“Do you want him to be with you? That could be arranged. I can make that happen.”

You really thought you would hate Min Yoongi and yet it seemed as if you were being drawn closer and closer to him. You pursed your lips, not ready to give up yet. He continued.

“And, of course, there’s no reason for your parents to enjoy luxuries that they didn’t earn, is there?”

You narrowed your eyes at him. Yoongi smiled, calm with an underlying slyness.

“That would reflect on you if you treated your in-laws poorly,” you responded coolly.

Yoongi shrugged. “And so? I still have you.” He tilted his head. “Why take a wife if you’re not prepared to do anything for her?” He nodded to himself, tapping his fingertips on the table once more. “Whatever you want, I can make it happen. Be it your brother tagging along, your parents’ lives in ruins…”

Yoongi’s eyes found yours and there was a kindness, already knowing your and him were meant to be.

You weren’t so sure.

And yet.

His next words made you fall in love.

“If that’s what you want, I’ll do it for you.”

--

masterpost

[under-the-cherrytree]

Heya! Thank you for answering my request! Now, can I get yandere big bro. Not an incest obviously l. teru, kou and tsukasa and hanako with little sis/bro gn s/o?

Now the thing is s/o usually got a mistreat at school due to people jealous of them (kou,teru) on tsukasa & hanako case (a yokai seems to wanting tsukasa & hanako beloved dead)

However s/o seems to not mind it at all. Btw, s/o is student at the school. And seems to be reincarnated after they die, and seems to believed hanako & tsukasa after they said they were s/o ghost brother and s/o reincarnated.

Now what would be the scenario when they find s/o is sitting on the floor. Wet around their hair and their clothes seems to be been damaged. When they Ask what happen s/o said.

"oh, big brother, I'm sorry...i'm really is...today is your birthday...but..." S/o keep cry and then said this while sobbing so hard "today, there's a girl who want me to introduce her to you. But I want to give you the gift and reject her, the girl obviously didn't take it well and...she make her group do this" "i-i...keep...trying to saving money to buy you this caused i want it to be secret...but-i..guess..there's nothing to give to you" while showing a blue (blue sky) (blue light) kou.

Tsukasa & Hanako Case

"big brother...since this is your both birthday I thought it would be better to get you both a gift. But there's a girl who hate me. I didn't even knew why?" And then s/o just said while sobbing "I..know big brother hanako love donut, and and I'm sure big brother tsukasa loves it too...so I baked a homemade donut, but that girl destroy it...she...she said my cook is the worst and people who eat it will puked and not even a ghost want it" "also she steal the necklace that I buy for you two since she say I did not deserved that"

Green (hanako) red (tsukasa)

Headcannon and oneshot again please!

The Minamoto brothers and the Yugi twins with a bullied younger sibling❣︎

Warings: Hinting to murder?, bullying, abuse, slight cursing

A/n: Hey! Of course of course, I try to answer requests to the best of my ability!

I did this with the siblings combined so hope you don’t mind shshjsh

Heehee hope you enjoy, my love~

Teru was your older brother and he made that known to the school

You loved the fact that you were known as Teru’s younger sibling

You loved your brother

But you knew you would be used for it

People would fake being your friend just to get close to Teru

Then once they got rejected, they always blamed you

You didn’t mind, you still wanted to be Teru’s younger sibling

Teru slowly picked up on this

He knew something was up so he told Kou

Those two tried to keep a close eye on you

But while they were there, it look like you had lots of friends

But when they left the bullying begun again

But sooner or later, the other girls true colors will start to show

Teru and Kou are protective brothers

The girls in your class should have known to not get on your brothers bad side

“Teru-nii! Looks like you got a lot of presents!” Kou called out, running to his older brother who was standing at the entrance of the school. Teru chuckled and looked back at his backpack which was full with presents from fangirls.

“Well, I guess I do...” Teru patted his younger brother on the head, making him smile brightly. “Where’s Y/n? Aren’t they supposed to be with you after cleaning the bathroom?”

“They are…” Kou's expression turned into a slightly worried one “but they said they had to go early. They told me something about wanting to get something prepared to give to you for your birthday…”

Teru sighed, he was worried. He already had suspicions that you were getting mistreated in your class but he didn’t know for sure so he never confronted you about it. He has confronted Kou about this and he had the same suspictions as well.

“Well let's go get them!” Teru clapped his hands and made his way towards the building.

“Do you think it's…” Kou didn’t want to finish the sentence.

“Let's hope not.” Teru’s carefree expression lowered at the thought. “Do you know where they went?”

Kou thought for a moment.

“No, but I know they aren’t in the old school building…”

Teru and Kou walked around the school for a while, looking for you in no avail. Kou pointed out little droplets of water that slowly got bigger reaching to the school's lockers. The boys froze when they heard sounds of sobbing. They turned the corner to see you facing your lockers drenched in water. You leaned onto your locker, closing it.

“Y/n..!” Kou called out, making you turn to him. “What happened?!”

“Who the hell did this to you…?” Teru asked, examining your ripped close and abused appearance. You looked at him and only cried more.

“I’m sorry big brother Teru…”

“Y/n, you don't need to be sorry, this isn’t your fault..!” Teru hugged you “What happened..?”

“I-its your birthday today… but there was this girl who wanted me to introduce you to her... but I said no, she didn’t take it too well and did this…” You sobbed into his shoulder. Teru’s grip on you tightened thinking about how this only happened while he was outside with Kou.

“I-I saved my money… to buy you a nice sky blue necklace… and I even got big brother Kou light blue one as well… b-but she destroyed it and I don’t have anything to g-give you…”

“Y/n that’s so sweet! We are extremely thankful!” Kou tried to lighten the mood a bit, giving you a gracious smile. You could see tears pricking the corner of his eyes. Teru was still angry that his suspicions were true, he was praying they weren’t.

“Who did this?” Teru sternly asked.

“I-it’s fine Teru…” You kneeled to the ground picking up pieces from the necklace she destroyed “She already left… there is nothing I can do now…”

“Y/n… please…” Kou kneeled down next to you and put his hand on yours.

“Guys, what would make me feel better is if we got home… can we please go home?” Your voice was begging. You just wanted to be in a warm blanket watching T.V. with your siblings.

That's all you wanted right now.

“Okay… I’m sorry Y/n, let's go home okay!” Teru gave you his jacket which you happily accepted.

“Even though I couldn’t get the gift, it meant the world to me!”

----

You sighed walking to your classroom. It was early and you were tired. You were happy your brothers didn’t ask you about it for the rest of the night, you didn’t want them to worry. You thought you would get a load from the girls who did this to you yesterday but you were shocked when she bowed in front of you instead.

“Y/n! I am so sorry! Please forgive me for what I did to you yesterday! It was very rude of me and I am very sorry!” She was shaking.

“Oh, uh, it’s alright..! No need to bow, I forgive you…” You put your hands in front of your chest, genuinely confused. Once she stood straight up you saw a big red mark on her cheek. She had tears in her eyes but ran to her desk before you could get a better look at her. You looked to Tsuchigomori who only nodded with an apologetic look on his face.

‘What happened this morning…?’

----

“Teru? You still look down?” Kou faced his brother as they both walked to class.

“Sorry Kou… just a little upset by the person who did this to Y/n…” Teru apologetically smiled.

“Well you slapped her, that taught her a lesson!” Kou encouraged.

“Trust me Kou,” Teru’s smile turned into a frown

“If a teacher wasn’t there, I would have kicked her ass.”

Amane found it unforunate you were caught in the crossfire of him and his brothers conflic causing you too kill yourself as well

Tsukasa thought it was great that his younger sibling was now dead too

Gosh Tsukasa-

But what they didn’t expect was for you to get resurrected

You were able to see supernaturals yourself and you couldn’t age from the day you died but you weren’t a ghost like your brothers

Tsuchigamori helped you establish a somewhat normal school life

It was all good for the most part, you were back in school, Hanako was the leader of the 7 mysteries, and Tsukasa was just crazy happy

The fact you are getting mistreated is mostly Tsukasa’s fault

Like he can make a lot of enemies so when the fish yokai (that he killed) saw how close you and Tsukasa were, of course they wanted to kill you

It was also a perk that you were Hanako’s sibling since they wanted to get back at him as well for stealing their princess Yashiro away from them

You were weak and had a human body, you were perfect

Amane had no idea about this, Tsukasa didn’t know you were being abused but he did know he pissed off those fish AND HE PISSED EM OFF GOOD-

You figured you would be a target for yokai since your older brothers are powerful

Of course, you didn’t mind this

You knew this would happen so it’s alright!

But the thing was, it wasn’t so alright with your older brothers

Hanako watched the cherry blossoms fall from the tree that he sat under. It was November 25, his birthday, and you said you wanted to have a talk with the two boys. Normally you would talk to them separately because you knew how Amane felt towards his twin brother, but today you wanted to talk to them together. Hanako cancelled his normal cleaning duty and waited where you said to meet up.

“Amane!!” He heard a scream from behind him but before he could turn around he felt someone hug him, wrapping their legs around his waist.

“Oh, Tsukasa…” Hanako said softly, personally finding this kind of awkward.

“Where’s Y/n?? It’s been so long since I’ve seen them!” Tsukasa removed his head from Amane’s neck looking around for you.

“Oh, they aren’t here yet, and I remember them saying they saw you two days ago…”

“So long ago!” Tsukasa whined and Amane sighed at his childish behavior. It went silent but thankfully Tsukasa quickly broke it.

“Didn’t Y/n say to meet them here 15 minutes ago??”

“Yeah they did…” Amane started to get worried.

“They're late!” Tsukasa pouted.

“You’re late as well Tsukasa… And we should go look for them.”

“I’ll lead the way! I know where their last class is!” He stood up and started marching, Hanako closely behind him.

They walked around the school for a while, watching students run across the halls to their clubs, laughing and gossiping with one another. Tsukasa continued to march, not losing the bounce in his step. They came closer to the sound of someone crying, sobs getting louder as they approached a classroom. The twins looked at each other before Tsukasa opened the door.

You jumped slightly, removing your head from between your legs to look at who came in. You only began to cry more realizing it was your two brothers.

“Y/n…?” Tsukasa slightly whispered to himself, staying at the door's entrance.

“Y/n! What happened?!” Amane ran to you, fearing you were hurt in any way. He put his arm on your wet shoulder, looking around to see if there were any visible bloody wounds. He looked at your uniform which was damaged and had a few cuts in it. Your hair was also wet like if someone poured water on you. Tsukasa slowly made his way over to you, examining you up and down. You couldn’t make out the expression on his face but you knew anger was there.

“I-I’m sorry…” You said a little above a whisper.

“You’re sorry for what..?” Amane asked, moving the wet hair out of your face to get a better look at your soaked, tear-stained face.

“Big brothers...since this is both your birthdays... I thought it would be better to get you both a gift. But there are these fish yokai who don’t like me..!” You picked up a couple red and green gems from the floor. Hanako’s eyes widened.

“I... know big brother Amane liked donuts and I assume big brother Tsukasa likes them as well… but they took the donuts I made you saying my cooking was t-the worst and you wouldn’t want it..!” You continued “And they took the necklace I bought for you guys saying I don’t deserve it…”

“Were they talking fish..?” Tsukasa's voice was cold, eyes wide with rage. You only nodded your head.

“Amane, will you stay with y/n? I have something I need to do.” Tsukasa turned to Amane. Hanako already knew what he was going to do.

He was going to go after the mermaid and her fish. There was nothing he could say to stop him.

“O-okay… do what you have to do…” Amane nodded and Tsukasa left the room.

“W-wait… where is he going..?” You started to get up but Amane sat you back down.

“Hey, don’t worry Y/n… older brother Tsukasa is going to take care of this okay?” Amane hugged you.

“But I don’t mind the fish… it’s fine-”

“No. It’s not.” Amane’s aura grew darker before his loving brotherly smile appeared again.

“And hopefully by tomorrow, you won’t have to deal with those disgusting fish!”

----

“Y/n! Amane!” Tsukasa called out as he walked down the halls. When he approached the door he opened it revealing you and Amane laughing. You were somewhat dry and you stopped crying.

“Tsukasa!” You got up and gave him a hug.

“What happened to those fish…?” Worryness in your voice.

“Don’t worry about it Y/n! You don’t need to worry about them anymore!” He childishly smiled, bringing ease to you.

“Amane approached you two, smiling. He looked to see Tsukasa’s hand that was behind his back covered in blood. Hanako's smile dropped and he went silent. He quickly regained his composure and turned to you.

“Yeah, Y/n you don’t need to worry about those fish. Your big brothers will kill any other supernatural that dares hurt you!”

[palettepainter]

How the teachers play favourites

We all know Aizawa and All Might have their favourite UA child, Shinsou and Midoryia. And yeah I know Bakugo and Todoroki are also their UA kids but shhh, Midoryia and Shinsou where the first UA kids they adopted. 

And you can’t tell me Aizawa and All Might play favourites with them, All makes Deku lunch like..hello?? Aizawa gave Shinsou his capture weapon, HELLO?? 

So here are some dumb headcannons for how the other teachers play favourites to their UA kids

Ectoplasm and his UA kid Jiro:

-When he gives back marked tests he’ll sometimes write small encouraging notes for his students to read, he does this to some students when he feels they need a pick up but he always leaves a positive one on Jiro’s 

-During lessons where students are allowed to study in the lesson Ectoplasm lets them listen to music on their phones, everyone thought he would say no so everyone - mostly Kaminari and Mineta - peer pressured Jiro to ask. To no ones shock except Jiro’s Ectoplasm replied with a calm “Sure, but only if you use your headphones”

-Jiro talks about new songs that have been released and Ectoplasm will listen to her geek out about music

-Sometimes Jiro will tell Ectoplasm what her and the rest of the band (herself, Kaminari, Momo, Tokoyami and Bakugo) have been doing and if they’re working on any new songs in-between their studies. Jiro jokes that Ectoplasm is their biggest fan but Ecto is genuinely supportive of their band and admires their creativity

-Jiro once entered maths class and said “Hey miter Ecto, what’s shakin’ bacon?” and while the whole class was stood there in silence thinking Ectoplasm wouldn’t reply he said “Not much double dutch” and then Jiro went to her desk as thought nothing out of the ordinary happened. Kaminari tried to do the same thing to him and Ectoplasm just went “Kaminari your shoe lace is undone-” Jiro was very amused

Powerloader and Hatsume:

-This one started out more like this - Powerloader: Who’s idiot kid is that?....*realises it’s Hatsume* Oh shit- THAT’S MY IDIOT KID-

-Hatsume showed up at the design studio and never left basically, so Powerloader got used to her. He knows Hatsume overworkers herself so he keeps spare energy bars, fruit and bags of crisps in the design studio. He brought a small microwave and kettle for the winter so Hatsume could make hot drinks and food since she insisted on finishing her ‘babies’

-Say’s he doesn’t worry but still insists she goes to recovery girl when she gets a scratch or blows up the studio, sometimes dragging her there himself, ranting all the way about how she’s an idiot. One day Hatsume ended up breaking her leg during a bad explosion and Powerloader very nearly had a heart attack-

He kept a close eye on her while she worked from a wheelchair at her desk

-Makes her wear a god forsaken jumper in the winter when the design studio is freezing, stupid dumb teenager you’ll catch your death of cold

Present Mic and Kaminari:

-This man is shameless with playing favourites

-He greets Kaminari with his signature finger guns and an enthusiastic “AAAYYYY KAMINARI!” Kaminari shoots finger guns back with an “Ayyyyy teach hozit hanging?!” Everyone in class knows Kaminari is a teachers pet despite how Kaminari insists he’s not

-Mic knows Kaminari has a crush on Jiro and Kaminari is an embaressed child who is like “omg msiter Mic STOP-” while Present Mic is coeing and being all like “Aw that’s adorable!”. He always puts Jiro and Kaminari together in group projects, Kaminari shoots him a flustered glare cuz Present Mic knows what he’s doing 

-Kaminari teaches him meme/slang language for laughs and everyone in class hates it, Kaminari finds it hilarious. Eventually Mic gets the hang of it but he sucked at using the language correctly at first 

-Calls him lil listener and Kaminari calls him loud mouth 

Midnight and Yaoyorozu

-Another teacher who is shameless with playing favourites

-Midnight being a teacher does have to enforce the dress code if she sees a student wearing their uniform incorrectly - loose tie, untucked shirt, odd brightly coloured socks, chockes, etc. Midnight really doesn’t care all that much if a student’s socks aren’t the sae colour as their shoes...buuut she’s a teacher so she has to enforce it. Except when it comes to Yaoyorozu. Yaoyorozu one day had to wear light blue socks into UA as her tights where damaged, and she was worried she’d be called out for not following the dress code. Midnight saw, and turned a blind eye. She was in the middle of telling someone off for not dressing correctly, saw Yaoyorozu with the odd coloured socks and went “-Oh hello Yaoyorozu you have a good day sweetheart! ^^”

-Always complients Yaoyorozu when she comes into class. Oooo did you try a new hair style? Honey it suits you! New note book, such cursive hand writting! Glad to see you got those new pair of shoes, trying a different shoe brand this time? Very stylish!

-Had been tempted to kick Mineta like a beech ball on more then one occasion when he wouldn’t back off from Yaoyorozu

-The kind of teacher to say “I taught her that~” when Yaoyorozu uses one of her combat techniques

-Girl gossip. She tries to guess who Yaoyorozu will get with, meanwhile Momo is just blushing and blabbering because that isn’t very appropriate for history work. Midnight bats a hand is like “Pft I’m the teacher I can gossip in my own lesson”. Puts her with Todoroki during group projects and she, like Mic, 100% knows what she’s doing

Hounddog and Shishida

-Hounddog: I am not soft....*holds up Shishida* EXCEPT FOR MY 1B CHILD WHO IS VERY STRONG AND HE’S GOING TO BE A HERO DON’T @ ME HE’S AMAZING-

-Encourages Shishida to let loose with his beast form, with his rish upbringing Shishida isn’t used to embracing his more wild and uncaring side, having been raised to always be propper and polite when not in combat. Hounddog geuenily puts in effort to be a little less grumbly around Shishida cuz he doesn’t wanna peer pressure him, he’s giving him time

-Keeps a spare cloth so Shishida can clean his glasses off when and if they get dirty from training

-I imagine Shishida having a quirk called beast and having a more posh upbringing prolly has a little bit of anxiety, having to always be polite and propper even with a quirk called Beast. Sometimes he vents to Hounddog about this and he listens, insisting that it’s better Shishida get it off his chest when he apologises for drowning on

-During training Hounddog basically throws him about like a beanie bag at first, Shishida was still a kid and Hounddog had years of experience. The day Shishida finally knocked him down with a hard punch to the side of Hounddog’s face he felt...bad. But Hounddog was beaming! Shishida may have cried a little bit

Snipe and Hagakure (picked hagakure inspired by a suggestion @snipe-enthusiast made a while ago)

- Protective af

-Hagakure screams the innocent dorky girl of 1A, and thought Snipe makes sure none of the girls deal with Mineta’s bull while he’s around he’s especially protective of Hagakure just cuz...well, have you seen the way she acts? She’s innocent, peppy, happy, cheerful, and Snipe does not want that tainted by Mineta’s preverted ways

-After the exam with Hagakure and Shoji Snipe apologized for what happened and so did Hagakure, admitting that she over-reacted. 

-Hagakure admits one day to Snipe that she’s worried she won’t make it as a hero cuz her quirk isn’t flashy like her classmates. Snipe reassures her by saying that no one thought he could be a hero when he was little (this headcannon was inspired by @frelmidja and a post this did with Snipe) - guns weren’t exactly considered heroic and he got teased in the beginning when his quirk first activated. He told Hagakure to keep working hard and that she had the potential and the drive to be a hero, Hagakure was very thankful for the reassurance

-Hagakure really wants to see what Snipe’s face is like and constantly asks him if he could take his mask off and show them, Snipe has yet to break and take off his mask but Hagakure is very persistant 

Cementoss and Bondo

-Chill babies, they sit and have tea together. 

-I imagine Bondo to be the kind of person to accidentally call Cementoss dad, it happened once during one on one training and he got so embarrassed. Cementoss kept telling him it was fine but Bondo left in a hurry after

-Bondo tried to make certian shapes out of his glue one time but ended up getting himself stuck, Cementoss helped him out and reassured a disheartened Bondo that everyone makes mistakes and that he was progressing well 

-Being one of the taller boys in 1B he often has to hold back Monoma from going over to 1A when Kendo isn’t around, often tries to diffuse conflict before it gets worse, Cementoss is very proud

-After one on one training the two go to the lunch hall to get a hot drink after cleaning themselves up, Bondo tries to bring a different type of tea sweet each time - something like biscuits or chocolate. Cementoss returns the favour by bringing Bondo manju to have after his training

Thirteen + Gunhead and Uraraka

-Proud mum and dad because I couldn’t decide between the two

-Uraraka researches into the affects of zero gravity and how to better use her power, due to this she’s become a bit of a space nut and enjoys thinks like star gazing. When she was a kid and saw Pro Hro Thirteen on the TV she was ecstatic! Her parents brought her a Pro Hero Thirteen plush on her seventh birthday, Uraraka still has that toy. One day the toy got misplaced in the students washing and got mixed up with the teachers, Thirteen was a bit confused why a plush of her - and a well loved one by how old it looked - ended up in the wash. Uraraka hurridly rushes over to explain when Thirteen comes into the students dorms asking if it belonged to anyone. When Uraraka explained she got it when she was younger cuz she’s a big fan of Thirteen...heart squeeze

-Asked Uraraka if she could teach her the gunhead martial arts move, Uraraka was so honored she got to teach one of her idols a combat move! Through the gunhead martial arts move Thirteen met Gunhead and the two become good friends

-One day when Gunhead is teaching Thirteen the martial arts move with Uraraka to help demonstrate Uraraka wanted to take a picture of them all together. Gunhead was too tall to fit into the picture so he kneeled down to be at the same height as Thirteen and Uraraka (he did bunny ears behind Thirteen’s head and Uraraka thought it was adorable)

-Gunhead pretty much puts two and two together with Uraraka having a crush on Midoryia, so one day when Thirteen mentions in passing conversation how giddy Uraraka gets when she’s around this one green haired kid Gunhead just chuckles behind his hand. Thirteen and Gunhead think it’s very sweet how Uraraka totally has a crush on him (unlike Mic and Midnight thoug they don’t force anything and let Uraraka figure things out on her own)

[mothandpidgeon]

Extra Credit (Professor!Dave York AU)

MASTERLIST

Pairing: Professor!Dave York x F Reader

Words: 2865

Rating: VERY E 18+!

Warnings: student/teacher quid pro quo (safe to say this falls under DUB CON so please be careful!!!), spanking, humiliation/degradation, oral sex, orgasm denial, spitting, pussy slapping, biting/marking, p in v sex, Dave York

Summary: With graduation on the horizon, you just have to pass Professor Dave York’s class. But a bad choice on the final assignment leaves your grades in jeopardy. But he’s willing to give you extra credit if you can follow instructions.

a/n: First off, PLEASE MAKE SURE YOU MIND THE WARNINGS. I did not see myself sharing this kind of stuff but I guess I'm freaky like that.

Second, I’m sorry this has the plot of a bad p*rno but sometimes it be like that. Thanks @pascalslittlebrat, @starlightmornings and @mouthymandalorian for encouraging this. It is filth. And thank you P for the gorgeous moodboard!!!!

Also, here is my assignment for the class. What subject do you think Professor York teaches? I was thinking Political Science. Would love to hear your ideas.

It was hot in the lecture hall, one of those early spring days when the weather decided winter was officially over. You had only a few more weeks until graduation and you were white knuckling to the end.

It had been a tough semester. You had your classes to deal with and your motivation was dipping. It wasn’t entirely your fault. You’d had to take on a full time job on top of your studies. Your shitty little car always seemed to be in the shop and your roommate had turned into a psychopath so you slept with one eye open.

Professor York’s class was the hardest you’d ever taken. You liked his style, his dry sense of humor as he lectured. But he was difficult to please. Most professors let their TAs do their the grading but not him. No matter how hard you worked on your papers, you couldn’t wrestle anything higher than a B- from Professor York.

The TA was handing back your papers, the last assignment for the semester, and he placed yours face down in front of you. There was no grade on it just red pen that spelled out see me after class in tight, neat handwriting. Fuck.

You looked up to see Professor York glowering at you from his spot at the front of the hall. You approached him as the other students filed out. You wished you could share their relief that this class was finally done but you had a knot in your stomach.

“Have a seat,” he said, taking the paper from you and tapping it in his palm.

There was a chair next to the professor’s desk and you sat down putting your bag beside you.

“Thanks, Tyler,” he said, dismissing the TA.

When the lecture hall was empty, Professor York sat behind the desk, eyes skimming your paper.

“I wanted to talk to you about this,” he said.

You nodded, too nervous to try speaking.

“This is some great work. This is the kind of essay that really sticks with you after you read it,” he said. His brown eyes were warm and soft and he sat forward in his chair.

You were dumbfounded, your anxiety quickly washing away.

“That’s probably how I know I already read this,” he said, his features suddenly darkening.

Your stomach plummeted into your feet. You were such an ass, thinking you could get away with it.

“I don’t tolerate plagiarism,” he told you.

With everything that had been going on this semester, you didn’t have it in you to complete this final assignment. It wasn’t like you were going to get a good grade anyway. You’d been so exhausted, you hardly cared if you got caught when you’d handed it in. But now that you had to face Professor York, you were kicking yourself.

“I find it highly disrespectful that you would try and pass this off as your work. You know you can be expelled for this?” he asked.

“I’m sorry,” you choked out. “I’ve just had so much work to do-“

“I’m not interested in excuses,” he snapped.

You shut your mouth and felt tears bite at your eyes.

“Are you going to cry?” he asked in disgust. “That’s not going to work on me.”

“Professor, if I fail this class I’m not going to graduate. Please. I’ll do anything to just pass,” you said.

“Anything?”

“Anything,” you said. The word sounded so definitive when it left your lips.

Professor York leaned back in his chair, swiping his finger across his lower lip in thought.

“I can give you extra credit but you have to do exactly what I tell you,” he said.

You were so relieved, you nodded breathlessly.

His lips curled into a smile.

“What color panties are you wearing?” He asked.

Your cheeks set on fire but heat also pooled between your legs. “I- what?” You managed.

“Show them to me,” he commanded.

Your whole body flushed and you stared at him, wide eyed. You had to be dreaming. You’d always found Professor York sexy with that grin and his deep voice but he wouldn’t- this wasn’t happening.

“Do you want extra credit or do you want me to give this paper to your advisor?” He asked, his tone suddenly harsh.

You swallowed hard. Why did his words send a shiver down your spine? You picked up the hem of your skirt and lifted it so Professor York could see between your legs. You looked away, blushing deeply.

He made a guttural noise that made you drop your skirt and clench your thighs together.

“Give them to me,” he said.

Your mouth hung open. He looked completely serious, blinking at you slowly as if this was a casual request. You bit down hard on your lip but finally you relented.

You squirmed out of your panties, being careful that you didn’t give him a show in the process, and placed them in his large, outstretched hand.

He put them to his nose, inhaled, and then squirreled them away in his back pocket, all the while watching you with amusement.

“Stand up. Put your hands on the desk,” he said.

You couldn’t move, sitting there with a gaping mouth. Finally he narrowed his eyes and you did as he said. You put your palms against the table top, aware of the vulnerable way you were leaned over. His eyes moved over your form and he wore the same self-satisfied expression that came when a student asked a stupid question.

Once he was finished admiring your obedience, he stood up and walked behind you. Your heart was pumping wildly as he stepped closer and you could smell his cologne, leather and tobacco.

“I‘ll pass you but I don’t want you thinking you’re getting off easy,” he said.

“Thank you,” you said.

He chuckled and your breath caught. You felt him lift your skirt up, the fabric skimming over your bare ass, and you gasped. He didn’t touch you but he made a noise of approval that shot through you.

“I’m going to hit you five times,” he said into your ear. “You tell me if it’s too much.”

You nodded without even knowing you were doing it. What the fuck was happening? You were standing in the empty lecture hall, bent over, ass out, and desperate to graduate. You couldn’t believe Professor York’s audacity and yet you were going to let him spank you like you were a little girl. It wasn’t like you had a choice, you told yourself.

Before you could make sense of it, his hand connected with you and you let out a grunt. Were you getting wet? You definitely should not be enjoying this.

He hit you again and this time a moan escaped from you. You clamped your hand over your mouth.

“Hands on the desk,” he commanded.

You put it back down and another strike came against you. The sound of his punishment seemed to be echoing off the walls of the empty room.

He pulled your hips into him to steady you as he went on. You loved the feeling of his arm wrapped around your middle, holding you firm.

When he was finished, you were nearly shaking, your pulse quick and your lips parted. You were still reeling not least of all due to the fact that you wanted more.

“Good girl,” Professor York purred smoothing his hand over the spot he’d turned red. His fingers dipped between your legs to feel the slick on your lips. “You’re not going to learn your lesson if you’re enjoying this.”

He came up right behind you so he could wrap his hand around your front and stroke at you. You were thankful your palms were braced against the desk because your knees nearly gave out.

“Professor,” you tried.

“Did I say you could speak?” he asked, a hand gripping your hair.

“What if someone comes in?” Your voice shook.

“Then you’ll have to tell them why you’re failing my class,” he said and continued to play his fingers between your legs.

You whimpered. You could feel his hard length through his pants pressed into the tender flesh of your ass. Your head spun. You knew how fucked up this was but you didn’t want it to end. Professor York’s fingers circled you expertly and you felt like you were melting in his hands. You forgot everything— the circumstances that lead you to this moment, that this was your teacher, that you were exposed in public. Nothing existed except for your pleasure building and building.

As the sensation mounted in you, you began to buck against his hand.

“Are you close?” he asked.

“Yes,” you moaned.

“Good,” he replied and suddenly, his hand was gone.

You cried out in desperation. You clenched at nothing, left at the precipice with no relief. You were throbbing almost painfully. Professor York caught your chin in one of his hands, squeezing your face and wrenching your head around to look at him.

“Do you deserve to cum?” he asked.

You thought you might actually cry between your need for his touch and the fear his voice instilled in you.

“Answer me,” he demanded.

You shook your head.

“No,” he confirmed.

He loosened his grip on you and, for the briefest moment that softness returned to his eyes. You looked at him, eyes glassy and practically drooling, wishing he would touch you again.

“Needy girl,” he chided. “On your knees.”

He pulled you to your feet by the back of your skirt and you got down, bare knees and shins on the tile floor. You gazed up at him, still a little nervous, still pulsing between your thighs.

Professor York undid a few of the buttons of your shirt and skimmed his knuckle across your breast with a hum.

“Maybe I should take this too. Matching set,” he said. He snapped your bra strap which made you jump. “Off.”

He palmed the bulge in his pants as he watched you remove your shirt and unhook your bra. He squeezed one of your tits and pinched your pebbled nipple until you flinched.

“You want to pass?” he asked you, repeating the motion on the other side.

You nodded and he arched an eyebrow.

“Yes,” you said.

“You want to please me?” Now his hand ran gently along your jawline.

“Yes,” you breathed. You’d been trying all this time, studying hard, staying up all night to perfect your papers. Now you had a new goal in mind though you were afraid it was just as unattainable.

“Open your mouth,” he instructed and when you did he spit into it. “Don’t swallow that.”

You stayed like that, with your mouth open as he released himself from his pants. There was a dark patch on his boxer briefs stained by precum. You watched him wildly as he pulled at himself and a glistening bead appeared at his tip. Saliva, yours or his, was dribbling out of the corners of your mouth, dripping on your hard nipples.

“Don’t you look pretty. I hope you can suck cock better than you write papers,” he mocked.

For some reason this was what made your eyes pop. You asked yourself if you were really going to suck off your professor for a good grade. As if you hadn’t just handed him your panties. As if you hadn’t just let him smack your ass. As if your thighs weren’t drenched with your own slick.

He approached you, still stroking himself and you were jealous. You wanted that friction on yourself, were dying for more.

You didn’t have to be told what to do. You wrapped your wet lips around his thick length and your tongue swirled around him.

“Eyes on me,” he demanded.

You looked up at him, and grasped his shaft in your hand as you sunk your mouth around him as far as you could go. Your saliva dripped down his cock pooling in your fist.

“Fuck,” he said.

That word excited you. You kept going, watching him try to keep his eyes open as you surrounded him. The noise of your lips on him was almost disgusting, wet and squelching, and yet it was driving you insane. You clenched your core for some kind of relief that wouldn’t come.

He thrust deeper into your mouth and you tried to take him in but gagged. You pulled away, his cock bouncing out of your mouth and you coughed.

“Good girl,” he said. “Look at you trying to earn that extra credit.”

Tears stung in your eyes as you tried to recover.

“You still want to cum?” he asked, one hand pumping himself slowly.

You nodded timidly. More than anything in the fucking world. But you didn’t want to seem too eager, aware that he was ready at any moment to rescind the offer.

“Sit on the desk,” he said and you did. “Greedy little brat.”

Professor York slid your skirt up your thighs and that sensation alone felt erotic. He inserted two fingers into your mouth and you sucked them hungrily while he grinned.

He slid them across your folds and you were already so sensitive your back arched. He surprised you by getting down on his knees, opening your legs and throwing your thighs over his shoulders. You leaned back on your hands, laid out across the desk, fully on display.

You heard a noise in the hallway and gasped, your head snapping towards the door. But your attention was immediately drawn back to Professor York when you felt him smack you between the legs.

“Do you want to cum or not?”

“Please,” you begged.

He gave you a dark smile and then began nipping at the inside of your thighs. When he got closer to your center, he bit and sucked hard. You let out a breath, a mix of pleasure and pain.

“When you think about this later, I want you to touch yourself and look at this,” he said, swiping the pad of his thumb over the welt he’d just left there.

You let out a shuddering breath and he began to nibble at your clit between his lips. When your hand automatically shot into his hair, he grabbed you by the wrist and removed it, holding your palm against the desk. His tongue lavished you, churning you into a frenzy, and it didn’t take long before you were back where you’d been before. You were panting and grinding your hips into him.

This time he let you hit your high and you trembled and thrashed as he worked at you. It felt like you’d been wiped out by a wave, not being able to sense up from down. You were mewling and shaking when you finally begged him to stop, overwhelmed and cloyed.

He stood and wiped you from his chin and then said, “I’m going to fuck you now.”

You nodded frantically. He pushed into you and you were sure he could feel you still fluttering around him. You were wetter than you could ever remember but still he was difficult for you to take and you inhaled sharply. He didn’t seem to care, snapping his hips into you and grunting, one hand balling your skirt in his fist against you. Soon, though, you were lost in the sensation of his thrusts.

You didn’t even realize that you were whining loudly as he fucked you, your head thrown back in ecstasy. Professor York took your panties from his pocket and shoved them in your mouth to stifle your cries.

“You’re going to have to quiet down,” he rasped.

You whimpered against the fabric in your mouth and he smiled wickedly. He put his hand around the back of your neck to draw you in closer and he pressed into you faster and faster. He pulled out and you heard your own muffled moan at the loss of him. He worked at himself, spilling over your thigh and on your skirt with a groan.

Both of you took a moment to catch your breath and you watched as the professor leaned over you on his hands, swallowed, and then stood up, as composed as ever. He laughed quietly to himself as he took the panties out of your mouth and smoothed his hair.

“Put your clothes on. I have another class to get to,” he said, handing you a handkerchief and zipping himself up. He slid your panties back in his pocket.

You felt shaky on your feet after you’d mopped up his spend. You got dressed wondering how you were going to get through the rest of the day commando, with a ruined skirt, and the remnants of your professor’s cum drying onto your skin. He didn’t say anything else. You hooked your bag over your shoulder and Professor York looked you up and down one last time. He handed you back your essay. It was soaked through down the middle and you realized you’d been sitting on it on the desk. At the top was a new note in red pen: see me after graduation and his phone number.

You got an A.

-----

tagging some folks: @pascalslittlebrat @mouthymandalorian @starlightmornings @purplepascal042 @originallaura @cheekygeek05 @fangirl-316 @fairytale07 @tuskens-mando @rosiefridayrogersunday @a-skov @skulliebythesea @oceanablue @rebel-soldat @goddessinwolfskin @stevie75 @yespolkadotkitty @danniburgh @221bshrlocked

[ickle-ronniekins]

black & white

request: from nonnie: ASDFGhjkl. Why are your fics so CUTE? 😭 Can I request a cute and cheesy George proposing to the fem!reader—and they’re wedding? 💜

desc: a love story unfolded via a timeline of events and colors. based on the song ‘black and white’ by niall horan

pairing: george x fem!reader

word count: 5.5k

warning(s): lil bit of angst, alcohol, some sexual content if you squint but it stops before things ~heat up~

A/N: this is just pure fluff. may or may not have cried at the cheesiness. idk. i’m a cheesy gal. can’t help it. i’m in love with a fictional character. sorry i went a tad overboard with this. also let’s pretend ~voldy~ doesn’t exist in this k? reminder that my requests are currently closed, i am merely working through the requests already in my inbox. i do not give permission for my work to be posted on any other platform.

Red

Red, hot fury swept through your bones as you watched him laugh hysterically alongside his brother. You balled your fists together, ready to throw a punch, but you knew your mum would lock you in your room until you were forty years of age if you even thought of throwing hands.

George Weasley was a pretentious little git. It was bad enough that he was your neighbour and you had to see him and his equally annoying twin in the village nearly every day, but what made it even worse was that for whatever reason, he’d chosen you to be on the receiving end of all of his pranks. His mother, Molly, was not for it -- she often gave her sons a solid tongue lashing, but it clearly never made an impact, for each and every day they were back to their normal mischief, seeking out ways to make you shake with anger.

“Weasley!” you squeaked as he and his brother ran back across the field toward their home. You loathed the idea of being in the same school as him in just two years time. At least here, at home, you could escape to your own house and your own room, far away from the boy who teasingly threw a red paint balloon all over you and your new dress. But at school, well -- the castle was only so big, wasn’t it? You weren’t sure how far away from him you’d be able to get.

You watched as he and Fred ran away, their giggles echoing through the air on top of the hill. You looked down at your ruined dress and screamed. You reckoned you’d never be able to love the colour red ever again -- not when it had ruined your beautiful purple dress, and especially when it was the colour of his annoying, messy hair.

Yellow

“I’m really sorry.”

He was standing across from you in the field. You thought about telling him that you needed to take four showers in order to get all of the red paint from your hair, and that your dress was permanently stained, but instead you folded your arms across your chest and huffed a bit. Not even magic could salvage it.

“I promise, I mean it,” he squeaked, as if he could read your mind. He seemed sincere, but he was always getting into all types of trouble, wasn’t he? Perhaps he was as good a liar as he was a pranker.

You kicked at the dirt, unsure of what to say. “You ruined my dress.”

“I know, I’m really sorry,” he said again, “it was all Freddie’s doing! I know he normally takes charge of pranks, but blimey, I told him it wasn’t a good idea.”

You arched your eyebrows up in surprise. “You did?”

“Yeah,” George told you. The wind ruffled the leaves on the tree next to you both, and you watched him tentatively as a big smile split his face. He wandered over to the tree trunk and picked at the flowers that were growing at the base. Then he turned around, marched right over to you, and handed them to you.

Yellow dandelions. You peered down at them, and then looked up at him in surprise. This wouldn’t fix your dress, but he was trying, at least. You noticed the dimples that appeared on his cheeks when he smiled. “Pretty flowers for a pretty girl.”

You couldn’t help it; you blushed and looked toward the ground. You picked a bit at the flowers and met George’s gaze once again. “You still owe me, Weasley.”

You both heard Molly calling him for dinner. “Okay, mum!” he called back, his voice echoing against the wind. He turned back toward you. “Promise. I owe you. I also promise to kick Fred’s arse since it was his idea anyway.”

A squeak of a giggle emitted from your lips and you watched as George Weasley skipped all the way home.

Blue

All of Ravenclaw house erupted into cheers as the colours of the Great Hall changed to celebrate the momentous occasion of your house winning the Quidditch Cup. It had been a neck to neck match against Gryffindor, but had you not caught the snitch before Harry, they would have had it in the bag for the third year in a row.

“At the risk of sounding like I’m pro Ravenclaw, I’ve got to say, you guys put up a great match,” you whirled around in the crowd and saw George standing in front of you. He had his hands in his pockets and he shrugged, clearly upset at a Gryffindor loss, but at least they hadn’t lost to Slytherin, right? “You really are a wicked Seeker.”

“Thanks, Weasley,” you said triumphantly, both pleased with yourself for winning but also feeling a little bit guilty for beating Gryffindor.

“When did you get so good anyway?”

“Hmm,” you placed your hand to your chin and pretended to be deep in thought, “do you mean, how did I get to be so incredible? I don’t have an answer for you, truthfully, reckon I was just born with it.”

Students filtered around you both, and you watched him laugh as blue confetti fell around the both of you and the rest of the Great Hall. Personally you thought it was a little much, but the captain had insisted. You met George’s gaze again though, and rolled your eyes.

“Oi, mate,” you heard Fred call. He reached his twin and threw an arm around his shoulders, “what’re you doing over here, conversing with the enemy?” You rolled your eyes yet again, something you found yourself doing quite often with the two of them, and Fred just grinned obnoxiously at you. “Only joking, Y/N. I suppose if anyone had to beat us, we’re glad it’s Ravenclaw. But if you repeat that, we’ll deny it, I swear to Merlin.”

“My lips are sealed, Freddie.”

You bid them both adieu before turning back to your house, celebrating and clinking your goblets of pumpkin juice together, and through the yelps and the cheers, you missed George say to Fred that he actually quite liked the way the Great Hall looked, all decorated in blue.

Orange

“How about you get to work on the ground Unicorn horn, and I’ll try and get this water crystalized?” you offered.

Today’s lesson was to brew the Oculus Potion, in the event any of you ever needed to restore someone’s sight. In an attempt to separate them, Snape had paired George with you and Fred with another Ravenclaw who didn’t look happy at all at the prospect of having him as her partner. You peered over the cauldron at George and said, “No worries. We’ve only got thirteen steps. I reckon if we keep at this without any distractions, we’ll be finished before the rest of class.”

“Better get cracking, then,” George replied.

The two of you worked in comfortable silence; you tensed a few times when Snape meandered by your table, peering down into your cauldron and scoffing, for you were certain that an attempt at any type of potion would never live up to his unrealistic expectations of two sixteen-year-olds.

A little while later, you realized that the heat emitting from all of the cauldrons was making the entire classroom incredibly warm. “Blimey, could he open a bloody window, or something?” you asked, ignoring the fact that there were absolutely no windows in the dungeons. George laughed and continued to add the crystalized water into your cauldron as you pulled your sweater over your head, leaving you in your white button down and blue and grey tie. You pulled your hair back off of your neck and said, “Alright, be sure to only add the water until it turns indigo, George.”

The poor lad hadn’t been paying attention, because your potion was far past indigo at this point. In fact, it looked as though it had turned a deep, navy blue, bordering on black, as George peered at you with soft eyes and continued to pour in the crystalized water, not realizing that he was messing up your carefully brewed potion. A snapping noise pulled him from his thoughts, and a slight explosion erupted from your cauldron and caused black smoke to cover George’s face and hair.

Most of the class began to laugh, but Snape angrily shushed them and sauntered over to the two of you, clearly giddy beyond belief that he was able to deduct points from both of your houses for causing such a ruckus in his precious dungeons. George wiped a bit of the soot from his forehead as you poured in the antidote and giggled.

“Merlin, I’m sorry -- didn’t mean to get points taken from your house.”

“Eh, it was bound to happen sooner or later.. don’t worry about it. Look! Good as new,” you clapped your hands together as the potion turned to the desired shade of orange before the final two steps. You met George’s look through the orange haze over your cauldron and asked him, “What had you so distracted anyway, Weasley?”

“Oh, erm -- nothing,” he replied a bit quickly. It didn’t go unnoticed how he’d stumbled over his words and immediately went back to looking rather intently at the directions. You bit back a smile and looked back down at yours too, unable to rid yourself of the nerves bubbling up inside of you as George looked up once again, stealing glances at you through the orange mist as nerves overtook him, too.

Green

“You had no right to do that! What the bloody hell were you thinking?”

George was standing across from you on the empty dance floor; the Yule Ball had ended abruptly and each and every student had filtered from the Great Hall and back to their respective dormitories, per the teachers. The two of you had managed to stay somehow, now more than ten feet away; you looked at one another with envy as a dramatic scene unfurled between you both.

The entire night had been nothing but a dream, up until that one dance. You’d waltzed in, your light green dress swaying beautifully near your ankles, your hand wrapped around your date’s arm. You waved to your friends, who stood with their respective dates as well, and promised yourself you’d catch up with them at the end of the night when you’d undoubtedly have stories to tell them of the most magical evening of your life.

Except that wasn’t how it worked out, had it?

“He was all over you!” George called, and you noticed how prominent the veins in his hands were when he threw them up in the air. “You said no, didn’t you? He asked you to come back to his dorm and you’d said no. Did you expect me to stand there and do nothing when he grabbed your wrists and tried to pull you there?”

George was right. You had said no, and truthfully, the way your date had grabbed you and attempted to drag you back to his room had really frightened you. You reckoned it was the firewhisky he’d drunk earlier that evening -- he wasn’t violent or anything, but he seemed desperate to get you there. All George had done was step in and stand up for you, so why on earth should you be angry at him?

You didn’t want to give George the satisfaction of letting him know that he was right. You were mad at him for other reasons, anyway. It should’ve been you that he asked to the ball, not that other disturbingly annoying Beauxbatons girl. It’s like he’d picked her particularly because he knew her annoying, bubbly personality and thick French accent would get right under your skin.

You softened a bit as you took a deep breath. “I appreciate what you did, George, but it wasn’t your place. I can take care of myself. He nearly knocked you right out!”

George winced at your words and brought a hand to his black and blue eye. He hadn’t even had the time to grab some ice and place it to the injury, and it was now rather swollen. “I don’t care if he knocked me to the bloody ground, I wasn’t going to let him do that to you!”

You couldn’t help it; anger took you over and you were saying things you shouldn’t have before you could second guess yourself. “Well you know what, George? Perhaps he wouldn’t have had the chance to try anything with me if you’d just bloody asked me to the ball first instead of that stuffy Beauxbatons girl!”

You knew your words hurt him, but you didn’t care. He looked as though he’d gotten the wind knocked out of him; he stepped backward and faltered a bit. His breathing became heavy and irregular. “You already had your date when I asked her, Y/N -- don’t you dare try and pin this on me.”

He was right, yet again. You couldn’t help it. Big, fat tears were falling down your face now and you reckoned you wouldn’t be able to salvage the rest of the hideousness that was this evening. You wiped your tears with the back of your hand and noticed the smears of black mascara and eyeliner on your skin. He inched forward now and opened his arms, but you backed away, still not ready to show him any affection.

You were being a git, but the truth was, you’d waited until the very last possible second for George to ask you to the ball. So when he didn’t, you begrudgingly agreed to the Hufflepuff who’d stepped forward and asked you himself. And as you walked swiftly passed George and up the steps to your common room, you realized that though you’d said yes, your heart had been with the Weasley boy you so adored the entire evening.

In truth, what he’d done was brave and full of love and passion. But you were still filled with hurt.

The green monster of jealousy that you’d felt when you’d watched him dance with his date was such a vice, but you just couldn’t help how you felt.

You left George alone in the desolate Great Hall as he let his head fall into his hands, pushing down his fury and tears.

Grey

You hadn’t gone back to him, that boy from the Yule Ball. You thought about it, but you figured you’d spare George more anger.

He’d approached you, your date, the day afterwards, apologizing profusely for his behaviour and how embarrassed he was at the whole ordeal. He’d asked you for lunch, only if you were okay, and you politely declined. “Friends,” you’d said, and he smiled pitifully, but gratefully, and took your hand in his to shake it.

It was so stupid, wasn’t it? Fighting with George over this. So he hadn’t asked you to the Yule Ball, so what? It wasn’t the end all, be all, was it? And he’d stood up for you, hadn’t he? When things had gotten a little out of control. He hadn’t been your date, but he had been your saviour.

It had only been a week since the dance and you two hadn’t said a word to one another. Fred had begged you too. “Come on, Y/N, you know he’s real sorry. Can’t you just forgive him? Blimey, it’s a right difficult thing to do, splitting my time between you both.”

You merely pressed your lips together and huffed. “He can come apologize to me himself, Fred. He doesn’t need you to do it for him.”

But later that afternoon, you figured, why wait? This whole thing was so dramatic and stupid. And so after rereading the same page eight times due to your lack of concentration, you jumped up from your chair in the Ravenclaw common room and made way toward the Great Hall, as fast as your legs could carry you. You were just going to tell him exactly that -- that this entire thing was dumb, and that you were thankful for him, and that bloody hell, you missed him. Perhaps it was a bit dramatic -- it had only been six days, right? You couldn’t help it. You missed him. You missed him a lot.

The thought of finally speaking to him after a very dramatic week apart made your heart flutter, and a very wide smile split your face just as you were about to round the last bend before the Great Hall.

And then you saw it. Them. Tucked away in a corner near a deserted classroom -- tangled together, George’s hands on her waist, hers in his long red hair. Her lips nearly on his. Smiling, giggling. Kissing him.

That bloody annoying Beauxbatons girl.

You stopped short and nearly tripped over your own two feet. You opened your mouth to speak but just let your mouth tremble in silence as you watched them snog one another. Her laugh was so painfully sugary sweet, you felt as though you’d like to rip your own hair out.

You were surprised how quickly the sight of them had sent your heart plummeting into your stomach. Somewhere in the few moments when you stood there in shock, your vision had become blurry and your face had become wet. You wiped at it with your sweater sleeve and sniffled quietly so they wouldn’t hear you. You spun on your heel and sped back toward your common room, wondering what the bloody hell had come over you when you thought of apologizing to him. You just wanted to get back to your dorm. Or perhaps back to your house in Ottery St. Catchpole. Stupid, silly girl you were.

If only you knew that George had spotted you before you’d left and froze solid in the spot he was standing, ignoring the forwardness of the Beauxbatons girl attached to his arm, his heart and mind chasing you all the way home.

Purple

The Ravenclaw common room was completely empty except for you. You always did this, though -- each and every year, you were always the last to finish packing. Not because you were a procrastinator, but because you hated admitting to yourself that another year was over, and you were another year closer to impending graduation.

Someone popped through the door and said your name softly. You turned and saw George standing there with a small smile on his face. “Hey,” he said, “train’s here. You almost ready to go?”

You groaned and looked back down at your trunk, now fully packed. “If I’ve got to be.” You felt like an absolute idiot that those few words brought tears to your eyes so easily. “Oi, here I go again.”

George laughed lightly and pulled you into a hug. “We’ll be back in no time, you’ll see again how quickly the summer holidays go.”

“But George, it’s our last year!” you cried. And then you took a deep breath to calm yourself down, because you didn’t fancy the idea of boarding the train with smudged makeup and a red nose. “Anyway, shall we?”

When you grabbed your trunk and headed toward the door, George gently took your hand in his and turned you around. “I’ve got something for you actually.”

You wiggled your eyebrows at him and clapped your hands together. “A present? It’s not even my birthday.”

But then you wondered if it was actually a present he wanted to give you, because he took your other hand in his and squeezed them, a serious look on his face. Your features twisted into that of confusion, and you’d be lying if you said that your heartbeat didn’t increase at the sight of him looking at you so earnestly. “What is it?”

“I’ve been a real git this year. Specifically, the Yule Ball. And a little while after that.”

You laughed and playfully shoved him. Though you still felt the sting of those few weeks, you two had managed to patch things up. He hadn’t lasted that long with that Beauxbatons girl anyway. “George, we’ve been over this, c’mon -- you were only doing what you thought was right. I’ve forgiven you, you know.”

“I know,” he smiled, and you could tell that he was equally as glad as you were that you two had placed that argument behind you. But what you two hadn’t touched on since then was what you’d said to him in a fit of fury: Perhaps he wouldn’t have had the chance to try anything with me if you’d just bloody asked me to the ball first instead of that stuffy Beauxbatons girl!

Of course he’d wanted to ask you. He’d wanted to ask you more than anything in the entire world, but each and every time he’d opened his mouth to say something, he couldn’t. Bloody nerves, and all that. Then he went and acted like a prat, making you cry, and he vowed to himself that he’d never make you cry again, unless it were happy tears.

“I realized I’ve never properly made it up to you -- not asking you to the the Yule Ball in the first place, and that time when we were nine.”

You raised your eyebrows suspiciously. “When we were nine? What the bloody hell happened when we were nine?”

And then he pulled from his pocket the most beautiful lavender pendant you ever did see. The circular stone was outlined in the same silver as the chain, and the sun flooding in from the windows made it sparkle more than anything you’d ever seen in your life. Your breath caught in your throat and you looked back and forth from the necklace to George, and back again.

“I ruined your purple dress, remember?” he asked you. He laughed a bit, probably thinking about the ridiculous way you’d looked with red paint splattered all over you. You couldn’t believe he remembered that. “Now, it’s not a dress, but seeing as we’ve grown up a bit since then, I reckoned you’d prefer something a little nicer.” He swallowed over a lump in his throat before continuing. “I never fancied her, you know. That girl from Beauxbatons. I just...” he trailed off, searching for words he couldn’t seem to muster up. You wondered if he could hear the dramatic thump of your heart, beating loudly in the heavy silence. “It doesn’t matter. It was you I wanted to be with that night, and long after. I still do.”

Then he brushed aside your hair and placed the pendant around your neck. You peered at him through blurry vision, and surprised yourself that you were now crying due to the tenderness of his touch and the emotion in his gift and not that you two were about the board the train and leave school, no longer the same two people you were just a few moments ago.

You did the only thing you could think of and you threw your arms around his neck and kissed him. You felt his shock, but it took him only mere milliseconds before he was kissing you back. In truth, you’d been wondering what it would feel like to kiss him -- the taste of him, the feel of your limbs entangled together, exactly how high your heart would soar. It was exactly the way first kisses were meant to be -- slow, and easy, and warm, the way it’s supposed to feel after having swam all day long -- your body limp and muscles de-tensing. You moulded perfectly with him, and when gravity (or rather, the first signal of the train’s departure) pulled you from one another, he peered at you with such affection that you felt as though you might explode.

You grabbed the pendant and held in gently in between your fingers, already having memorized the outline of the silver and the different shades of purple within it. “I am so bloody happy you threw red paint at me that day, Weasley.”

He laughed haughtily, throwing his head back before swinging an arm around your waist and pulling your trunk toward the exit of the Ravenclaw common room. “Merlin, me too.”

White

You were sitting at your kitchen table, ignoring the massive amount of work in front of you to admire your other hard work. Your cozy little flat looked just as you always imagined it would, with the added bonus of your boyfriend in the corner of the front entrance, fixing a loose coat hanger on the wall.

Never in your life did you imagine that things could be as perfect as this.

You couldn’t help but wonder if it would be a flat you two would share one day.

You got up and brought with you his half empty glass of wine and handed it to him. Gratefully he took it and sipped before pressing a feather light kiss to your forehead. But then you gently traced his jawline with your finger, down his neck, across his collar bone until he followed your move and leaned in to kiss you. It was soft and chaste and everything like your first one had been. But as the alcohol worked its way through your veins, you found yourself pressing yourself harder against him.

A moan of content escaped him as you bit down on his lip and slipped your hands underneath his shirt, hands pressed against his chest. Unashamedly, you pulled him toward your bedroom, and he placed his empty wine glass next to yours on the table as he kicked the door closed.

The two of you fell backwards onto the bed in an entanglement of limbs. He hovered above you, dropping down a bit to press light kisses to your neck, in between your collarbones, behind your ears, against your jawline. You so desperately wanted to feel his weight on top of you, and so you yanked him firmly against you and kissed him in a way that there was no aching way that he wouldn’t be able to tell exactly what you wanted.

He began to undo the buttons on your shirt, taking time to press kisses into your chest at the exposed places before he stopped himself and gently ran his hands across your hips, and then your cheek. His voice was merely a whisper in the deafening silence, “Are you sure?”

He gazed at you with such tenderness and love that you knew he’d stop, if you’d asked him to. He wouldn’t go another inch further if you weren’t ready. And for you, that was more than enough.

“I’m sure.”

He sucked in a breath and dipped down to press lips to yours gently before continuing to make light work of your clothes. He explored every inch of you, and the sensation of his lips gently grazing your skin caused you to arch your back in pleasure. You could feel him smiling against you, wildly in love, handling you with such care as if you were a tiny glass figure he was afraid of breaking. He held you so delicately and worked his way through each and every single one of your wants with slow and gentle hands.

You’d known it was love with him; maybe not consciously, but you’d known it long before now. Love, filled with intensity and desire and longing, in its most vulnerable and fragile form -- pure, and blinding white.

Pink

The summer air wafted in through the open window in the kitchen, and you listened to Mrs. Weasley hum some Muggle song as she set the table for dessert. You placed the finishing touches on the lemon meringue pie you baked, special because it was George’s favourite and Mrs. Weasley had insisted.

You had to admit, he’d always had the outside exterior of a tough guy, but owning a business did absolute wonders for his confidence. You noticed the way he stood up a little straighter, smiled a little bigger, and most of all, just how much he gushed about all the plans you two would be able to act on, now that you were both making income of your own.

“Merlin’s beard, Y/N, you’ve absolutely knocked it out of the park with this pie, if I do say so myself.” Arthur’s praise was nothing short of wonderful; you felt the tips of your ears turn pink at his compliments. By the way Ron slouched back in his chair, looking rather chuffed indeed, you could tell he felt the same exact way. Especially when he reached for the last piece, but Hermione slapped his hand away.

“Oh my!” Molly yelped suddenly. You jumped in surprise in your seat. “Oh, Georgie dear, would you mind wandering into the field before dark? I’d love some wildflowers for the table,”

“Sure thing, mum.” George replied before turning to you and squeezing your hand. “Want to tag along?”

You said, “Of course” at the exact same time Ron said “I’ll come along too, I could use a good walk” and if you hadn’t been so focused on George’s tender gaze, you almost would’ve missed Fred silently hissing at Ron and Hermione slapping his hand yet again. “On second thought,” Ron swallowed thickly, “I’d better stay here and help you clean up, mum.”

“Atta boy, Ronniekins,” Molly said. To you and George, she continued, “You two better get going -- not long now before it turns dark!”

George stood and pulled you to your feet. “You coming, love?”

“I go where you go.”

About twenty minutes later, as the setting sun had blended with the light purples and pinks of the sky, you’d found yourself with a rather beautiful bouquet of wildflowers for Molly. You turned to George, who was leaning against the tree and smiling at you, and asked, “Shall we get going darling? Don’t want to be too late. I reckon your mum will come out here searching for us if we spend an evening among the stars.”

“Doesn’t sound like too bad of an idea, actually.” His grin deepened, and then he said, “you’re lucky I don’t have any pranks up my sleeve right now.”

You look up at the tree and recognized the place where he’d infuriated you all those long years ago. You rolled your eyes and shook your head before twirling in your dress. “I am lucky. I was able to get a new dress after the one you so lovingly ruined. Though I will admit -- I wasn’t all that big of a fan of those puffy sleeves. This one’s much more adult.”

George arched his eyebrow in surprise before wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you close. “Oh yes it is.”

You slapped him playfully and pointed your finger at him. “Alright you prat, calm yourself, you’ll have to wait until we get back to our flat for any funny business.”

But then you realized, as George’s features turned from mischievous to genuine within the matter of seconds, that there was definitely more pressing matters than funny business on his mind.

And then he was telling you how he’d only teased you back then because he’d found you so bloody cute, and how he should’ve asked you to the Yule Ball and regretted every single day that he didn’t, and how he’d never met anyone who could play Quidditch quite as well as you, and how bloody happy he’d been when you’d kissed him that day in the Ravenclaw common room. And then knelt down and he asked it, the words you’d imagined since you were a little girl, strung together with such fondness and emotion and tenderness that you weren’t quite sure how you were standing upright.

You’d already begun to nod quickly through your tears before he finished, but would he really be George Weasley if he didn’t tease you, just a little? “Say yes,” he laughed, “say yes and marry me and be my wife for as long as you’ll have me.”

He slid the ring onto your finger and kissed you and picked you up and whirled you around in the field and held you gently in his arms as though you were a precious glass figurine and he was doing everything in his power to hold you delicately.

“Yes. I say yes.”

Black & White

You asked, When did you first know?

And he answered, I always knew.

You both ran back up the aisle, your white dress fluttering around your ankles, his black suit hugging the curves of his arms, and into the field and away from the party, momentarily, to celebrate your first moments as husband and wife in the place where he’d figured it all out.

He’d known since that afternoon when he’d handed you those yellow dandelions that he would bring you back here one day, to ask you to be his wife. He’d known, in the Ravenclaw common room when he gave you that purple pendant, still dangling from your neck, that one day he’d also give you a ring. He’d known, all those long years ago, that he wanted to marry you, and that you would say yes, when he’d finally ask.

And now, in front of your friends and family, he’d vowed to love you -- love in it’s purest and simplest form, love -- with all it’s sentiment and emotion and vulnerability. He vowed to love you and only you for the rest of his life.

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[gladerwolfstarkimagines]

Unlikely friends: Part 2

Azula comes to visit you in the earth kingdom and the two of you spend more time together leading Azula to confess her feelings.

Part one here

Part three here

Azula’s POV

Azula lasted 1 month, 2 weeks and 4 days before she took you up on your offer to escape to the earth kingdom. She and Zuko had gotten into a silly argument and Azula really wanted to get away from the fire nation and him. So she wrote to you and received a reply hours later. You told her to come immediately and listed the address. So Azula was walking through the streets of an earth kingdom village searching for Toph’s school. It was pretty easy, the whole town seemed to be proud to be chosen by Toph Beifong and she passed many people in uniforms or signs boasting this was the proud location of the best earth bending school in the world. Azula knew she’d arrived when she found an 8-foot statue of Toph outside a large building. She supposed Toph herself had made it and had to admire the girl’s confidence. Azula knocked on the door but it fell open. She walked inside and could hear the soft thudding of earth bending somewhere further inside. You had only said to come to the school so Azula didn’t know what to do next. She looked around and found a child around age 10 or so. "You boy tell me where can I find y/n" she called. The boy shrugged "I don’t know". Azula narrowed her eyes "well is she teaching a class? What’s your best guess for her location?". The boy sighed "why should i tell you?". Azula had always hated children and got a strong urge to throttle the boy but she breathed deeply "because i’m a friend of hers and i need to see her". "I’ll take you to her....if you pay me, you look rich". "Five" Azula bargained and the boy shook his head "fifty". "Ten" Azula bargained but the boy shook his head "now it’s sixty". Azula broke and grabbed the boy’s sleeve as she lit her other hand on fire "listen here you little monster....” she started when someone came around the corner. “Sifu Toph this woman is attacking me!” the child cried and Azula paused letting the kid go. “Toph I....”. “Let me guess, you were looking for y/n and Lamo here asked you for money? So you threatened him”. Azula blinked “yes exactly, if you’re upset...” she started when Toph turned to the boy. “Lamo what did I tell you about choosing your opponents wisely? You see a scary fire bender and challenge her? Do you have a death wish?”. The boy stammered “sorry sifu Toph” and bowed deeply. “Enough of that now go train!” Toph barked and Azula admired how the boy ran away as fast as he could. She watched him go before awkwardly turning to your cousin. Azula had hardly spoken to the girl and the few times she had, they’d been trying to kill each other but hopefully that was in the past. “Y/n’s this way” Toph said breaking the silence and Azula just nodded following her. It was an awkward walk but as Toph was your closest family Azula wanted her to like her. “I wasn’t really going to burn him” she clarified “I was just going to scare him a bit”. Toph made a grunt in reply “the lily liver would deserve it, attacking someone from the fire nation, you people are so fickle with your honour. You taught him a good lesson about staying away from fire folk”. “You’re welcome?” Azula offered. Toph shot her a look and Azula realised she shouldn’t have said that. Thankfully they reached you before Toph could reply.

Your POV

You were in the middle of class when you heard the door open and you turned. You stopped midsentence and grinned “Azula!”. You paused realising everyone in the room, including your students were staring and coughed “Azula...if you would please just wait over there i’ll be with you soon”. Azula nodded smiling slightly and you looked away so as to not blush. “Anyway so as I was saying....” you started when Toph stepped forwards “I got this y/n, you go see to your guest”. You grinned “really?”. Toph smiled, she’d seen how your face lit up when you looked at Azula and figured you deserved an evening off. “Sure” Toph nodded and you grinned patting her arm before rushing to Azula. You led Azula outside of the gym and into your private quarters before throwing your arms around her in a hug. "It’s so good to see you but of course sorry circumstances! How are you?". Azula shrugged "i’m okay, me and Zuzu always argue it’s nothing new....thank you for letting me come here on such short notice though. I hope i didn’t cause too much of a disturbance?". "Nah that was the last class of the day so your timing was perfect". Azula blushed as you emphasised the word perfect while staring at her and you smiled. "So i’ll show you where you can put your stuff and then we can go get some food and have a catch-up! I like our letters but it just can’t compare to talking to you in person". Azula smiled pleased you felt that way also "i agree, there’s no replacement for hearing and seeing you". This time you were the one blushing but you smiled brightly and took Azula’s hand "well come on then, let's get started" and led her away.

"It was my fault" Azula sighed recounting the argument to you "i was in a bad mood because of our mother’s visit and so i was snapping at Zuko and then he snapped back". You nodded your head listening with a worried look. "And i know our mother is trying but i...i think i still have some issues with her that i should really address". You nodded your head "would you be able to discuss them with her or do you need more time to heal?". Azula shrugged "maybe, i don’t know....anyway enough about me, tell me all about your new life! How is it being a renown earth bending teacher?". You laughed “i’m not so sure about that, Toph’s the talent, I just handle the basic and beginners but I don’t mind that I’ve never been fond of children, especially as they get older and more annoying”. Azula smiled at you and you frowned “what?”. “Nothing” she smiled looking away “I just knew there was a reason I liked you”. You grinned “because I hate children?”. “Precisely” Azula nodded and you both laughed. "I wish i was around you more" Azula said suddenly and you paused managing not to blush "you do?". She nodded "i feel calmer with you, my temper here feels completely under control but at home...". "Hey the important thing is you're trying to control it" you smiled putting a hand on her arm "you’ll get the hang of it, one day at a time remember?". Azula nodded glancing at your hand on her. You went to move it away noticing when Azula put her hand on top of yours "thanks y/n".

Azula’s POV

“No problem Azula” you smiled and Azula just allowed herself to admire you. You looked so beautiful just sat on the deck of your garden smiling at her...Azula felt her breath stifle. "Why are you staring, is something wrong?" you asked as Azula gazed at you intently but she shook her head "nothing...the opposite actually, you look so beautiful". Azula had no idea where that confidence had come from but she meant what she said, here with you all her insecurities just melted away. She felt good enough, you made her feel good enough.  A blush appeared on your cheeks but you only looked away for a few seconds. “You should see it from my view" you replied and Azula grinned. Azula had made her feelings clear and this was you returning them. She couldn’t be happier but she had to make sure before she moved onto the next step...

Your POV

Azula smiled and leant closer to you “y/n can i kiss you?". "I thought you’d never ask" you smirked and Azula kissed you. She held onto your cheek softly as she tenderly and almost cautiously kissed you. Azula was very gentle and you were pleasantly surprised, you found this timid Azula adorable. You pulled away and the sun made Azula’s face glow but her red cheeks were all her own. "I...i like you, a lot" Azula blushed and you smiled taking her hand "i like you too...a lot". Azula laughed "that’s a relief! It’d be awkward if you didn’t after that”. You laughed “it would be” and stroked the top of her hand “but that’s not the case, I like you with every fibre of my being. I have since our trip” you explained. Azula nodded “I did too I just didn’t realise it, i’m annoyed it took me this long but I mean to make up for the lost time”. “That sounds good” you smiled and Azula’s eyes flicked over you. “In that case....can i kiss you again?". "Yes and you can stop asking now, the answer will always be yes" you told her. "Got it" Azula nodded and you smirked at how adorable she was before leaning in to kiss her again.

The next few days were a blur with Azula. You took her all over your town and just enjoyed being totally and utterly in each others company. It was the perfect weekend for a new couple but Azula was scheduled to leave the next day putting a slight negative atmosphere over the day.

After a walk to a restaurant Azula had taken a liking to you returned to the porch where you first kissed and lounged in the sinking sunlight. “I don’t want you to go” you said softly and Azula nodded draping her arm around you and pressing her face into your hair “me either”. You melted into her more and Azula wrapped her arms around you fully. Azula held you, watching the sunset and marvelled at how perfect her visit had been. Since she was a child she didn’t think such a sweet innocent experience would ever occur to her but she was wrong. She looked down at you against her and an idea came to her.

“Come back to the fire nation with me” Azula said suddenly and you sat up surprised. “Come back...but Azula you know I have to stay here and help Toph”. “I didn’t mean permanently I just meant for the remainder of my mom’s stay? She’s only going to be another 4 days and I meant what i said, i’m better around you and i want to show my mom and Zuko that i’m not who i once was and i think i can with your help...". The tone of Azula’s voice made you sigh and you turned to face her properly "you said that knowing i wouldn’t be able to resist didn’t you?". Azula smiled "i suspected appealing to your selfless kind nature might help". "Stop flattering i’ll come back with you" you rolled your eyes and Azula gasped. "Y/n thank you!" she cried peppering your face and lips with kisses. You pretended to be annoyed but seeing Azula’s genuine happiness at the thought of you coming back with her made you smile.

Azula’s POV

You stayed out on the porch long after the sunset and when you did stumble inside you both jumped to see Toph sat in the room. “Nice night?” she asked. Azula felt her hand in yours and knew even though the girl was blind she could sense things like this. Azula glanced at you but you didn’t seem nervous. “We did thank you, how about you?”. Toph nodded her head “I did, y/n can you please do and tell Raosheng in the village that I will be requiring his help running the school while you are in the fire nation?”. Azula jolted expecting an argument but again you didn’t tense. “I have already sent him a letter but I will go and make sure he knows, be right back” you smiled and walked out the door. Silence settled and Azula stared at Toph in horror. Toph was basically your only family, the person who meant the most to you in the world...if she didn’t get on with her that could wreck the whole relationship. Azula cleared her throat “so you heard our conversation about y/n visiting me?”. Toph nodded her head “I didn’t mean to but I got worried you were trying to poach my best teacher”. “No i’d never try and take her from you, I know how much you both care for one another” Azula rushed to reassure her. Toph made a noise and stood up going to leave the room. “Do you...did you hear anything else?” Azula asked and Toph paused. “I know you’re dating my cousin if that’s what you mean”. Azula went to ask how when Toph laughed “the two of you aren’t subtle, y/n’s always worn her heart on her sleeve but even she was too blissfully happy for it to be because of your presence alone, no offence”. “None taken” Azula shrugged. She supposed Toph must be fine with it and so satisfied her relationship wasn’t in danger went to leave the room when the door closed. “I trust y/n to make good decisions” Toph said suddenly “she a good judge of character and she trusts you so I do too...but if you ever harm or hurt her....you’re powerful but I took you out once and I’ll do it again”. “That was in the eclipse” Azula pointed out before she smiled “but I understand, trust me I have no intentions of ever harming her or letting her get hurt, she’s one of the few people I would never let anything happen to”. Toph nodded “I believe you will honour that promise, you better...” and left the room.

The next day

You and Azula stood waiting for the airship and Azula kept glancing at you often. “I’m not going anywhere, I promised to come with you so I am” you said and she jumped “was I that obvious?”. You smiled “just a little bit” and took her hand discreetly. Azula knew the earth kingdom was worse than the fire nation for judging same-sex relationships and so stood up taller ready to defend you if necessary. “So how was your conversation with Toph?” you asked and her posture slumped. “You knew she was going to give me the protective sibling talk! You left us alone together on purpose”. “Of course!” you grinned “I knew Toph wanted to get her threats out of the way and so i’m sorry but I let her, I figured you of all people could handle it”.  Azula nodded “I managed to convince her I won’t harm you or ever let anyone else hurt you, so yes you were right”. “I figured that when I came back and the school was still standing” you joked. Azula smiled “I wouldn’t attack her she’s your family, but if she attacked me first....well that’s just retaliation”. You laughed and smiled at Azula “thank you for being so perfect this weekend, now it’s my turn to try and do the same in your home”. Azula took your hand “you’ll be perfect I promise”. “Well I guess there’s only one way to find out” you said and nodded to the airship that had appeared in the sky. “Are you ready?” Azula asked as the ship came closer. You nodded and squeezed her hand tighter “next stop the fire nation”.  

____

Next and final part the fire nation!!

[astaroth1357]

Demon Brothers being Soft for Their Daughters 

Might just be me but I think there's nothing cuter than a Dad who loves his daughter so I made a hc for our boys. Strap in, it’s a long one! 

IMPORTANT! Watch out for first half spoilers! Assumed that the child is a half human/half demon with the MC!

Lucifer

Tries to be really strict but ends up being kind of a pushover.

Oh there ARE rules that even his little girl can't break, but most of the time she can get away with almost anything if she's cute clever enough.

Pushes her to be the best at almost anything she tries, expectations be real high; gonna take the MC stepping in to remind him winning isn't everything and please cool it on the pressure.

Lowkey learned his lesson before and doesn't want to make another Satan situation so tries to take MC's advice to heart and not be quite so controlling.

Her favorite uncle is Mammon and he gets cold sweats about this every night.

Wasn't able to be there for a lot of her firsts due to work and gets real sulky when he misses out. Videos just don't offer the same experience...

Feels bad that work keeps him so busy so he tries to make up for it with toys, clothes, jewelry, pretty much whatever she likes at the time.

Would never admit it, but his black heart melts every time he comes home and sees she's excitedly waiting by the door.

One of those parents who will never stop bragging about how amazing their kid is to anyone who will listen, but never when she's in the same room.

100% that overprotective "I'm going to give you a brief tour of the torture chamber, then we’ll browse my whip collection. Oh, make sure she's home by 8" kind of dad if she were to ever bring home a date. They will know that his baby is not to be messed with (like anyone's crazy enough to try honestly).

Mammon

So over the goddamn moon that someone actually wanted to have a kid with him that he couldn't shut up about it for weeks.

Treasures his little girl more than anything he owns, even Goldie. When she's a baby the two of them are practically inseparable.

The biggest pushover to ever be pushed. She's about the only person he's ever unconditionally generous to and he really spoils her rotten.

She's just as materialistic as her father, honestly, but MC made sure their girl was raised with good morals. The first of which being no stealing. Ever. She works for every cent she spends.

On the one hand, he's actually pretty damn proud and relieved that she won't be called "scum" or anything like her father, but on the other hand like… Ew. Who raised you? (No one remind him it’s kind of his doing anyway).

For once in his greedy existence, he can tell a sob story about really needing that loan or those shoes for his beloved daughter and actually mean it… most of the time 😏

Even when she's young, though, she will ask him if a gift he's giving her was taken from someone else and, man, he cannot lie to her face. People shame him for stealing all the time but the little look of disappointment she gives him hurts WAY more than all of his brothers’ insults combined.

Probably one of the most supportive and involved dads in existence. He will be at every game, every recital, every meet. Even if he's complaining the whole time, if anyone so much as suggests that he just shouldn't go he'd be appalled.

…. He's perhaps a little too involved because he's also totally the kind of father who will lowkey stalk his daughter's dates to be sure nothing bad happens. MC, please step in. She needs privacy too.

Leviathan

Was incredibly worried about having a kid, he's not even had the best track record when it comes to pets and parenting is some high-level normie stuff. But his little girl's first smile absolutely melted his doubts away.

That being said… he's still not the greatest with little kids. For a long time if the baby so much as sneezed unexpectedly he'd start shouting for the MC and checking every website he can like??? My half demon baby won't stop sneezing, is it pneumonia???

Gets a lot less panicky as the child gets older, but in those early years he'd practically want to stick them in a bubble wrap suit.

He passed on his love of the ocean and underwater creatures pretty early on. The running joke is that his girl knew how to swim before she knew how to crawl.

Family aquarium trips are an absolute must.

The second they're old enough to understand plot he's introducing them to his favorite shows, but only the best (and most child-friendly) ones of course. He wants his daughter to grow into a woman of culture, damnit! Pop culture that is.

Sooo much text/chat lingo between these two. It's not her fault really. She was bound to pick it up but man can it sound like they're speaking tongues at times.

With practice she can and will beat her old man at most video games and, yes, it makes his cry tears of equal parts pride and aggravation.

Has a mini-panic attack every time she hits a new milestone, like, yes he's so fucking proud but also don't you think she's growing up too fast??? MY BABY GIRL!!! 😭😭😭

Cries like a baby to the MC when she goes out on her first date because he realized she's really, truly, growing up and he's afraid his little girl isn't going to want to spend time with her lame old dad anymore.

Satan

Tries to be strict and IS strict but mostly on schoolwork.

Her grades best not be slippin' or this Book Papa will take all her stuff away. End of discussion.

Otherwise, he's surprisingly chill being the Avatar of Wrath and all. He of all people understands the desire to just have your own life and do your own thing.

She'll inherit his temper though, that's a given, and if they both get going then watch out. Fights between them can get verbally explosive, but never physical. Even at his angriest Satan would never once lay a hand on his daughter.

Read to her every night when she was young: storybooks, novels, mythologies, didn't matter to him. Whatever she wanted to hear. Still, he was so proud the day she told him that she wanted to read on her own.

100% makes nearly everything in life a teachable lesson but also helps her when she needs it. He wants her to forge her own path but is still very supportive when the situation calls for it.

Would never EVER admit it, but he does just as many dad jokes as Lucifer.

Of all the brothers, he's probably the most typical father to have, there for his kid just enough while also making sure they're not getting away with murder.

Is totally chill with her dating because he knows he doesn’t have to be super protective of her. She can more than handle herself if something goes wrong, in fact, if he were to step in it would probably add insult to their already grievance injury.

That being said, he IS the Avatar of Wrath. If someone hurts his girl he’s going to have a turn one way or another.

Asmodeus

Oh YEEESSS, he's not normally the commitment kind of guy but he and MC raising a child? They'd be the most gorgeous thing in the universe!!! (Not counting himself of course)

Beautifying his baby since day one, but the MC keeps him from doing anything too extreme. A lot of baths, good moisturizer, hairstyling (when she grows enough of it), etc.

Soooo many outfits. She'll practically never wear the same thing twice and Asmo coordinates his own clothes to match hers all the time.

He actually goes out and parties LESS if you can believe it, especially when she's young and needs a lot of supervision. But he'll get pent up real quick so learning how to do a quiet quickie during naptime is a must.

His girl is all over his Devilgram, nearly every milestone is snapped up and recorded. He loves her more than anything and would just scream about his pride and joy from the rooftops if social media didn't provide him that outlet.

Makes sure his daughter knows that she is gorgeous, she is loved, and passes on every bit of self-confidence he has. Doesn't matter if she grows up a girly-girl, tomboy, or anything else under the sun. When you're feeling good just being you, heads will turn on their own accord!

Not the best at discipline and would only really step in if he thinks she's being a real jerk about something. Day to day attitude adjustments are totally up to the MC.

He is, however, the best sex-ed teacher one could ever ask for and makes sure his daughter knows there's no shame in what comes natural, just be sure you're respectful and responsible!

Completely unfazed when the suitors began lining up, I mean she is HIS daughter. It was inevitable. Offers tips and advice when he can but lets her go off and experiment naturally. Young love is a beautiful thing! (Just don't break his girl's heart though because he may lowkey curse your whole bloodline)

Beelzebub 

….. MC, you're going to be eaten out of house and home.

Though his daughter's appetite isn't AS bad as his, Beel could tell it's going to be an issue from day one but he's ready for it.

Dedicates his freaking life to being sure she never goes one night hungry. He'll cook, he'll shop, he'll even share from his own plate if he has to. The thought of her going through anywhere near the level of starvation he feels on a daily basis is enough to crush his soul (if he has one)

You better bet there will be eating competitions. She never wins, but the fact she can even get close will have him grinning anyway.

That being said, he will push for a healthy and active lifestyle for her too. 

Highkey wants her playing sports and doing team activities because he genuinely thinks it will help her stay healthy and make friends.

Just the right amount of discipline. Tries to be understanding but also knows when to call a spade, a spade and express his disapproval.

Very in-tune to her emotions and her needs even if he can’t quite grasp WHY she's feeling the way she is. Keeping up with teen drama is going to be the bane of his existence...

Uncle Belphie=That one cool uncle who lets you get away with anything and probably gives out sugar after bedtime.

One of the only brothers who makes a point of his daughter also seeing and exploring her human heritage too and not just treating her like a pseudo-demon… And it's totally not just for the added excuse of sampling human world cuisine, like, come on who do you take him for? 🤫

Somewhat cautious about her dating, but ultimately just wants her to be happy. He'll usually trust her judgment but he's pretty good at reading someone's character and if he gets real bad vibes from anyone he's not above telling her, "No. Not that one." Whether or not he's listened to depends on the situation.

Belphegor

Lol MC, you could have picked a much better choice. Borderline Deadbeat/Cool Dad here!

Kids… not his thing. He doesn't dislike them exactly, they're just a lot of work and he's sort of allergic to that. He's more of a semi-irresponsible babysitter type.

Case in point, "Belphie, watch the baby" becomes "Belphie, if you're going to take a nap at least hold onto her leg so she doesn't go anywhere."

Only saving grace is she takes after him so most days she's pretty dang sleepy too. Naptime is a good third of the daily routine (not that anyone is complaining).

Shit at discipline because, like, what leg does he have to stand on? If she wants to ditch class, why not let her? Once or twice ain't that bad.

Takes her on a lot of "field trips" to the human world like he would with Lilith. Genuinely wants her to experience both sides of her identity and encourages her to explore her human side just as much as her demon.

The kind of chill dad that you feel comfortable going to when you've got to talk out a problem or need life advice. He might not be able to offer many answers, but he tries in his own way.

Will prank his kid and will not feel sorry, but is never cruel about it. In fact, this will only spur on a mutual prank war between the two.

Uncle Beel=that genuinely nice uncle who tries to teach you life lessons and how to take care of yourself… while also eating a ton of food.

Would be super confused at first if she started dating like?? How? He kind of sees her like a mini-him at times and his human came to him. Since when did she stay awake long enough to leave the house?? But otherwise he goes with the flow. Whatever she wants, her life.

He might get a bit more agitated if she starts to date a human, like, lowkey bad flashbacks to the whole Lilith situation and the MC would probably have to cool his jets about it. Different circumstances after all.

[whirlybirdwhat]

The strawhats dont know that Jimbe shares the other half of Luffys scar.

Word Count: 2,239

The Straw Hats hadn’t expected it, even as they traced inked lines on newspapers, old and faded with time, watched the news and clips of Marineford, brought by an old enemy’s hands.

They knew their captain would be scarred – saw it in the newspaper, the way his face broke with his brother’s body in his arms, saw it in bloody bandages inked with 3D2Y.

They just –

They didn’t know it would be like this.

Luffy’s scar is a red thing, a bloody thing. It’s roughly healed, clearly gone without proper care beyond the initial wrap, and it lays directly over their captain’s chest. An X, cruel and digging into his skin.

(Legends state that Joyboy, the first adventurer, carved an X on to Raftel. That the poneglyphs are his signature, the X that marks all treasure.

Below this X lies their captain’s heart, burned and flayed by the first of a dog.

It is a treasure that should have never been marked.)

He wears it openly, proudly, as if this X was not in the same place of the wound that killed his brother, as if his hand did not reach up to scratch at it, rest on it, hold it when he stared at the horizon. They have had a day to get used to but still –

Still it is a shock, fresh and unwanted.

(Scars have meaning, and scars have purpose. Zoro has two on his ankles and one on his front, two earned in learning, and one in battle. Another is on his eye, a price paid for being a student who aims to take down his teacher. Nami has scars, covered by blue ink, scars that freed her, scars that saved her. Usopp has nicks on his hand, scars in odd places from trying to repair a dying ship, from fighting his captain.

Lessons learned, purposed gained, willingly, voluntarily.

Luffy’s is nothing like that. )

It stares at them, taunts them, bright and red, a reminder that they weren’t there when Luffy was always there for all of them, wasn’t there when he needed them most, as much as it is a reminder of how Luffy’s brother died in his arms, in a war that should have never been.

(Luffy has scars – he heals fast, but not enough to cover burns from molten gold or holes from warlord’s hooks. But nothing is as vibrant as this one.)

But –

Luffy is here.

Luffy is happy. He smiles, bright and fearless, even if there are new shadows in his eyes and more quiet moments then there used to be. He is still just as strong, stronger even, if more protective of his crew. He’s Luffy – their captain, and their future king.

They weren’t there for him, and he doesn’t care if they weren’t because he’s glad they’re safe but –

Jimbe! Luff cries with joy, when they set a course for fishman island, He saved me!

Someone was.

-

Fishman island is a bright, happy place. The sun shines even here, and now, with Hordy and Vander Decken gone, the people shine as well. Joyful, smiling faces against scales and skin, teeth sharp or smooth, are all directed to their princess – now revealed to them – and to the pirates that saved them. There’s cruelty in corners, but not here.

Not now.

(Children run along the sea floor in Straw Hats, calling out attack names and harboring no prejudice.

Later, years later, there will be legends about a man in a straw hat, and joy written on all their faces – cruelty nowhere to be found. A beginning is here – one of hope.)

Not with Luffy lying on Jimbe’s side, bandaged and with his crew surrounding him. The party thrown by King Neptune echoes dimly in the background, melding gently with the chattering of his crew around him. Zoro sleeping on the ground by Luffy, Chopper atop of him, Usopp and Sanji murmuring together as they eat, the rest of the crew standing around, gazing at their captain who has given so much for them – who has just returned to them.

(They move in groups, now, and when Luffy left the party to talk to Jimbe the rest of them followed. It’s been far too long since they’ve been together and they are reluctant to part from each other.

Never again, they whisper, never again.)

Jimbe is new to them but not, there when they weren’t. He’s comfortable with Luffy, even if he is surprised when Luffy slumps against his side, curling under his arm to sleep away his injuries. There’s a terrible sort of fondness on his face as he looks at their Captain, one they all know is reflected on their own faces.

Luffy – he saves people. More than just in body, but in spirit, taking their dreams and shouldering them on his own until they are strong enough to carry themselves. Selfishly selfless, forcing people to rise and chase what every pirate holds dear.

A dream.

Jimbe hasn’t said his yet, but he’ll get there if Luffy has to drag him there kicking and screaming like he’s done the rest of them.

Though… his eyes hold nothing but devotion as he stares at the Straw Hat’s captain, so it’s more than likely he’ll just follow Luffy.

All the way to Raftel.

Luffy utters a quiet snore, burrowing close into Jimbe, bandages falling and revealing a reddened scar, and suddenly the Straw Hats find themselves with a purpose here.

But like in all things, Luffy is the one to make the first move. The way he has tugged on Jimbe’s kimono, has pulled it to the side, displaying the tattoo of the Sun Pirates, red and vibrant and –

A mass of scar tissue, burned and dark against blue scales, in the same shape as their captain’s.

It’s like the world goes quiet as Jimbe readjusts.

Like another weight has been added to the shoulders of those who love Straw Hat Luffy but weren’t there when he needed them most. Like chains, like nails down the throat, a horrible, awful realization that at Marineford, it hadn’t just been Ace who took a hit for their captain.

Jimbe had too.

He doesn’t talk about it, doesn’t seem to notice the way every Straw Hat has paled or gone wide eyed or slacked jawed (for those without visible skin or eyes.) He just quietly adjusts Luffy, hand ghosting over the scar on his chest, and settles back down.

Nami swallows, throat sick. “Jimbe?” She asks, knowing that he’ll answer her if no one else. “You were at Marineford, right?”

(Even in his sleep, slumbering away, Luffy winces at the name.)

Jimbe is quiet for a beat, then – “Aye. And Impel Down.”

“And afterwards,” Robin says smoothly, eyes bright with the knowledge of a historian who scoured every source for information about her captain.

Jimbe nods. “And afterwards, until Rayleigh took over.”

Everything. He was here for everything.

“Then...” Nami swallows and blinks back her tears. “You were with Luffy when A-“ His name feels forbidden. Taboo. “When his brother died.”

“Aye.” Jimbe’s words are soft as he lays a hand on Luffy’s shoulder, gently calming him from the twist his face takes, even asleep. “I was.”

Nami wants to ask what happens. She wants to know, wants to hold her captain, wants to say It’s okay, wants to know what hurt him so he will never hurt again, and Jimbe can give her these answers but –

The past doesn’t matter aboard their ship of dreams. Luffy had not listened to her story, not until she wanted to tell him herself. He had freed her from her chains, took her by the hand and led her to the horizon that she could map all her own.

Her throat closes up when she thinks about trying to learn his hurts, when he knew not to bother her own.

She can’t do that.

She can’t.

Instead, she lets her lips remain loyally closed as she watches the way Jimbe cradles their captain, as if he was the most precious thing he could think of.

(And really this man – who had conquered gods and armies and kings, yet still smiled so gently at his nakama and the sea breeze – he is.)

But Jimbe speaks anyway, and it’s not a betrayal of loyalty because he was there, when none of them were.

“I knew Ace, before Marineford.” They all hide flinches at the name. Jimbe gives them a somber gaze, and moves on. “We battled, before he joined Whitebeard’s crew and afterwards were friends. I refused to fight in Marineford for his sake, and was instead bound in Impel down, in the same cell as him. There… he told me about his little brother.” His gaze, impossibly, turns even softer. “He would just chatter on… smiling, in the face of death, as he told me about how reckless this boy was. How foolish. How loyal.” He tilts his head back up to the sky then. “He asked me to take care of his little brother.”

Nami’s heart stops. Usopp gasps. Sanji drops his plate. Chopper starts crying. Zoro’s eyes flash open for the first time.

(Under the hot sun of Alabasta, on a ship aboard a river, a man with freckles and a smile had asked, A little brother like that makes a big brother worry - Take care of him for me, okay?

They failed.)

“I failed,” Jimbe says, simply, but his words are draped in pain and agony, as his hand rises to his chest again, in a similar motion to what their captain has done, several times since they have reunited. “And that can never be forgiven.”

“But you were there,” Robin says, just as simple, her voice cracking. “And you saved our captain – didn’t you?”

Jimbe’s hand loosens its hold. “Ace had just died. We were running from Akainu and… I was holding Luffy. My own body was not enough to shield him – I failed-“

“Stop.” Zoro’s words silence the room, accept for Luffy, snoring gently into Jimbe’s side. “You were there, Jimbe.” He gets on to his knees, sword laying across his slap as Chopper is pushed to the side. “We were not. Thank you, for saving him.”

And then – Zoro, future world’s greatest swordsman, the pirate hunter, the demon – he bows, low to the ground, in a gesture of thanks.

It is brief, and quick, but Nami follows instantly, folding over in thanks as the rest of the crew does the same.

This is their crewmate – their future crewmate, from what he told Luffy – who was there when they were not, and took a blow for Luffy straight through his chest that would have otherwise been fatal.

Without Jimbe, their captain would not have had a chance to live.

What is a moment, bowed over, to something as insurmountable as that?

“I – please, do not bow to me!” Jimbe rushes to say, stuttering, eyes wide when Nami looks out. One hand is held out while the other, always protective, lays around Luffy’s shoulder. “It was my duty to do so, my responsibility, same as any of you. Luffy – he’s the man who will become King of the Pirates. To follow him is enough thanks.” His words ring loud. Ring true.

This is the man Luffy wanted on his crew for two years.

Nami can see why.

His faith – the faith that moves seas, moves mountains, changes the world, the faith in one straw hatted man – that’s the faith of all her crew,

She wasn’t sure about Jimbe.

(He had been the cause of so much of her pain – but he didn’t choose to hurt her. He would never, now.)

She is now.

Zoro, ever the leader, ever the loyal first mate, looks up and settles back down. It reminds Nami so much of Water 7, except here their entire crew is present, and here, they will not be fractured ever again.

(She will make sure that happens – by any means necessary.)

“It is our responsibility.” Zoro acknowledges. “We grew stronger over these past few years, on our captain’s orders – did you?”

His single eye pierces Jimbe, and Nami can see him swallow. But he stares back, unafraid, a true helmsman always following the course.

“Aye,” Jimbe says, and the tension is shattered by Luffy turning entirely over in his sleep, shirt shifting to display his scar, but his face entirely peaceful.

They ease back into their conversations, debts settled, crewmates thanked and now equals. It’ll be a few minutes before Luffy is up, running for adventure with them following on his heels but for now –

Now, the savior of their captains rests easy with Luffy by his side, and everything is okay.

(Later, months later, after Wano and after Whole Cake and after Emperors, Nami will see Luffy sit up at night as they all camp out in the aquarium. He will clutch his chest, and curl in on himself, deadly quiet and pale. His fingers will dig in, and dig in, and dig in, and all Nami will do is watch until –

Jimbe sits up and catches Luffy’s hand in his own, his other mirroring Luffy’s position and clutching at his own scar. He will say breathe, and Luffy will breathe, and –

Their captain will be strong, surrounded by those who were not there, and smiling, if dimly, at the one who was.

And, for once, matching scars won’t hurt as bad.)