#i woke up and chose angst today idk
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bri-cheeses · 8 months ago
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Evan’s busy reaching across the bar for a couple of drinks, arm outstretched and easy smile on his face, when Regulus walks up next to him.
“Two butterbeers, please,” Regulus nods to the bartender.
Evan turns his head in surprise, clearly not expecting to have been followed. “I was getting you guys drinks, you know. You didn’t have to get up.”
“Yeah, I know. But I needed a bit of a break from all… that.” Regulus tilts his head towards a booth in the corner, indicating the chaos currently taking place there. He’s just escaped the aftermath of Barty attempting to flirt with Remus just to make Sirius mad, which has not ended well. Just like Barty intended. Honestly, Regulus doesn’t know why he puts up with him.
Regulus opens his mouth to continue, feeling somewhat hesitant. He’s not sure how Evan will react to what he’s about say, but he’s going to try anyways. “And also because I wanted to ask you something in private. Or at least, away from them.”
“Hold on,” Evan replies. The bartender’s just handed him his drinks, and he’s trying to find a way to carry them. “Okay, carry on.”
Regulus doesn’t waste any time. “You’re in love with Barty.”
Evan doesn’t look up from the drinks, not giving Regulus’s accusation even a slight reaction. “That wasn’t much of a question, Reg.”
If Regulus didn’t know better, he’d say Evan was completely unbothered by this whole situation. But he does know better, and Evan’s completely straight face as he fiddles with the glasses is a dead giveaway.
“You’re not going to deny it?” He’s genuinely curious. It’s unlike Evan to not, at the very least, try to avoid answering directly.
“Why would I? It’s the truth, and I know you’re not going to tell him.”
“But you’re not really the type of person to be okay with… sharing this sort of thing.”
Evan looks up now, small smile making its way to his face. “No, I’m usually not. But honestly it’s been going on so long that it’s more trouble than it’s worth to keep it hidden. From you, at least.”
“I—” he pauses, not entirely sure what to do with that. “How long has this been a thing?”
“Oh, about…” Evan squints, as if he can look back in time and pinpoint the exact moment it started. “Five years now?”
“Five years?”
“Don’t sound so surprised, Reg.”
“Why shouldn’t I?”
“Because it’s really not that out of character for me.”
Evan flashes another smile and makes to leave, but Regulus blurts out, “Why haven’t you done anything about it? If it’s been so long?”
Evan glances over at their booth. Regulus follows his gaze, where Barty is now gesturing wildly with his hands in what is probably an attempt to avoid death at Sirius’s hands.
“Because,” Evan says, still looking at Barty, “it would ruin our relationship.”
He sounds so resigned to the fact that Regulus’s heart clenches. He feels like a bad friend. He had no idea, absolutely none, that Evan had been feeling this way for such a long time. “You can’t know that.”
Evan looks back at him, amused expression on his face as he asks, “Can’t I? It’s Barty; even if he did feel the same way—which he doesn’t—he would never be able to let himself commit to a relationship. The fear and discomfort would eat him alive. You know that.”
Regulus does, in fact, know that. But it doesn’t stop him from wanting to fix this, somehow. From wanting to try to get Evan to fight for a chance, at the very least. “But you’re Evan. There used to be be bets about when you guys would finally sort out your shit and start going out.”
Evan blinks, clearly not having known that.
“And it wasn’t because people knew you were in love with him—hell, I didn’t even know that—it was because of the way you both look at and act around each other. And I know that you’re too smart to have not noticed any of that, Evan.”
“Well. Maybe. But that’s also just who he is. He looks at practically everyone like that, acts like that with everyone. So you can stand there and tell me that I’m special, but I’m always going to see that for what it is. A lie, Regulus. And I don’t need you to lie to me. This whole thing is already bad enough already, I don’t need you adding to it, too.”
“But—”
“Don’t, Regulus. Just don’t.”
Regulus changes tactics. “How can you stand it?”
Evan gives a sad smile. “Like you said; I’m Evan. I’m always going to be in love with him, no matter what he does, really. And he’s Barty, so he’s going to do a lot of shit. But that’s just the way things are, I suppose.”
“So you’re just going to let him shatter your heart and stomp all over it?”
Evan smiles bitterly. “He’s been doing that for years, Reg. You’re a bit late to the game.”
Regulus hates this, hates Evan’s defeated tone and tired eyes. “How are you just so calm about this? Don’t you hate it?”
Evan considers that. “I did, for a while. I spent a long, long time hating it. But it only cost me energy I couldn’t afford to lose, and it didn’t change anything in the end.”
And there’s not a lot Regulus can say in response to that, so instead he eyes Evan: the regretful smile, the sad slump of his shoulders, and the way his body is subconsciously turned towards Barty, even now. “Are you… going to be okay?”
“Of course, Reg, why would you even ask?” He smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “This is just the hand life has dealt me. I’m used to it by now. You might as well get used to it, too. Nothing’s going to change between Barty and me.”
And with that, he shoulders past Regulus, drinks in hand. And Regulus watches him go, unable to unsee how painfully in love Evan is. He watches the way Barty’s entire face lights up when he sees Evan, he watches the soft smile Evan gives Barty in return, and he prays to anyone who’s listening that Evan will turn out to be wrong.
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bangtanfanfiction · 1 year ago
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cold → myg (M)
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Not proof read. 
♢ Pairing: Yoongi x Female!Reader → Hogwarts AU
♢ Word count: 16.6k (Idk how this happened okay)
♢ Genre: Angst, fluff, strangers to lovers, arranged marriage, slight slowburn, smut 
⌲ Description: Min Yoongi - The 7th year Slytherin student notorious for his cold and indifferent personality, and not to mention his anti-social tendencies. What was it about him that made you so curious?  - Warnings: swearing, some finger action
Hogwarts au masterlist
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AN: Whenever I write Hogwarts AU’s I like to include characters that already exist in that world instead of coming up with a lot of OC’s. So you’ll be meeting with a few familiar faces ;)
‘Y/N’ in my story is more of her own character rather than an insert - I’ve tried to keep detailed description down to a minimum, but in some cases it was unavoidable. So sorry for those who find that annoying.
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“Miss Y/N...”
“Miss Y/N.”
“Miss Y/N!”
Your eyes flew open at the raised voice next to your ear, heart thumping for some unknown reason as the familiar sight of the dark ceiling came back into focus. Sighing, you relaxed back into your mattress before lazily addressing the voice.
“What is it, Tudey?” You muttered tiredly while the small house elf beside your bed played with her hands nervously.
“Mistress told Tudey to wake Miss up. The Hogwarts train leaves in two hours and Miss cannot afford to be late,” Her squeaky, uncertain voice relayed the message urgently, ears twitching nervously at the sight of irritation on your features. 
Although feeling slightly bad for scaring Tudey for just doing her job, it wasn't enough for you to bother clearing away your irritation. The house elf had known you since birth, and being a naturally nervous creature there wasn’t much you could do.
Resisting another sigh, you just nodded, waving her off as the sound of a loud crack was heard before silence took over again.
You remained in your position for a few moments in your overly large bed, eyes closed and craving more sleep, a black and burgundy comforter tightly wrapped around your body. 
The bedroom was cold, as always. The kind of cold that wasn’t exactly terrible, but enough to make you somehow uncomfortable at certain moments - such as waking up in the middle of the night. The air never failed to draw goosebumps on your skin whenever you woke. 
But you had gotten so used to the feeling that it barely bothered you anymore.
Stretching one last time, you got out of bed and went towards your wardrobe placed in the corner of the room. You didn’t waste a lot of time finding clothes and simply chose the first outfit that you managed to put together, consisting of a black long-sleeved turtleneck with a tight button skirt. You finished the look with some laced-up boots and a classy white blazer to make it a bit more sophisticated. 
Sitting down in front of your vanity table you saw your still half asleep face looking back at you. With a shudder, you grabbed your wand and gave it a wave - the glamor spell doing a quick change to meet the day.
Downstairs, the sound of pots clanging echoed from the large kitchen as you passed it along with the forms of several house elves walking around getting food ready for your family.
Inside the spacious dining room, your parents were already sitting on each end of the table. Both nursing their own cups of tea while reading the Daily Prophet. 
The same thick, tense silence for no reason greeted you.
Your younger brother, who was starting his first year, sat on the left of your mother and your older sister by two years on the right. Choosing the chair to your father’s left, you sat down silently before acknowledging them.
“Morning mother, father,” You nodded at each of them and felt your mother’s scrutinizing look directed at you - which you tried to ignore. It had become a habit at this point. 
“Seeing how you decided to arrive late today, I expect you are ready to pass Hogwarts this year with only the highest marks,” your father’s voice spoke up next to you as you sent him a thin-lipped smile.
“Of course, father.”
He looked at you for a few more seconds before moving on to address your older sister next to you, silently eating her breakfast with her back ram straight. The only one in the room who wasn’t hesitant about openly showing their emotions was your brother. And not even your uptight, pureblood parents could blame him for it. It was his first year at Hogwarts after all, any eleven-year-olds would have been excited at the thought.
Inwardly sighing, you couldn’t help but think how you weren’t lucky enough to be born into a normal, magical family - not even as a muggleborn at that. 
Your luck was as rotten as the trails of crimes belonging to the majority of the sacred Twenty-Eight families still existing to this day. 
Your mother was sitting silently in her seat, too occupied with the news to ask you any questions. Daphne Greengrass had aged well ever since her Hogwarts days, aging slowly and elegantly, not that different compared to your aunt Astoria. They had the same head of dark brown hair and eyes, traits that you had inherited. But unlike her paleness, yours was much more tan, a clear mix of both your parents.
Your father, Blaise Zabini, was an infamous name for all the wizards and witches who lived during the Second Wizarding War, although he had done his best to remain under the radar since then. 
 His affiliation with the Malfoys and several rumors about having been a past death eater were still whispered in the streets whenever any of you walked past. You never had the courage to ask either him or your mother about that. They were dark times, and you were only lucky to be born when the Dark Lord wasn’t trying to take over the world. 
When both of your parents had first married, it wasn’t because of love. More like convenience. It was no well-kept secret that your grandmother from your father’s side was a wealthy woman with her past six deceased husbands. The Greengrass family was one of the prestigious pureblood families still living - so it just made sense to unite the two bloodlines. But your surname would still remain as Greengrass with the influence behind the name soaring above your father’s. 
Even as the years passed, your parents were both adamant about not changing their views when it came to blood status. Their pride and arrogance worth more than anything. Which caused you and your two siblings to be raised in a traditional pureblood Slytherin household. 
Draco Malfoy himself had even changed for the better after his house arrest for being involved with the Dark Lord.
However, the only one who actually agreed with their views was your older sister. She lived to please them. Their praises make her feel better about her achievements.
Blood status didn’t matter to you. Why would you care if they were muggleborn or pure? You’d rather rely on your judgment of character to do the work. You had little patience for cowards. Neither were you the biggest admirer of the timid and silent, nor the rowdy and arrogant. 
Some would say you weren’t the most liked pupil around Hogwarts. Both you and your sister had been sorted into Slytherin on the first day, making nearly everyone, except for your brother, a snake.
After you had finished eating enough breakfast to call yourself full, your father stood up from his seat while looking at his wristwatch.
“Time to go or else you’ll miss the train.”
Everyone stood nearly as one and made their way towards the large double front doors in dark mahogany. Your parents both put on their luxurious robes when your father waved his wand and muttered a spell as two trunks came floating down the stairs. He shrunk them and put them in his pocket before opening the door for everyone to step out of besides your sister. 
She had an early shift at the ministry for her work and wasn't able to come. Not that it bothered you. You never had a good relationship with each other and she proved that by sneering at you, her judgemental eyes raking down your ‘muggle’ looking clothes.
“Try not to disgrace our family name this year, Y/N,” she said as if trying to embarrass you in front of your parents. 
You weren’t the one who had been caught snogging in a broom cupboard during your last year. 
You simply rolled your eyes at her. “I’d say the same thing to you.”
Your father offered you his arm, which you accepted while your mother held tightly to your brother’s hand. Taking a deep breath, you felt the familiar nauseous feeling of being squeezed through a tiny tube when your feet landed back on solid ground. To your annoyance, you stumbled, but your father held tightly to your arm to hinder you from falling completely to the ground. 
It was actions like these that made you feel confused towards the man who was your dad. He played the part well in front of others, taking you and your siblings to the trains each year as well as picking you up during the holidays. Yet his words and expressions were always laced with the monotone coldness you had grown up with. 
Straightening your clothes, you resisted the sad sigh before turning to the familiar, heartwarming sight before you. 
The red magnificent train sent a feeling of safety through you as allowed a small smile. This would be your last year taking it. Your father had already taken out the trunks and turned them back to their original size before turning to you.
“Remember what I told you. We expect nothing less than Outstanding on all your subjects this year,” he reminded sternly as if it was the only thing he could discuss when talking to you. 
Never your wellbeing - just your grades and performance in class.
With that, all the feelings of confusion evaporated quickly from your mind. 
“Yes father, I remember,” you forced yourself to hold the smile at him. “Wouldn’t want to disappoint you.” 
His eyes narrowed at your last sentence but remained silent for your family’s sake. Blaise Zabini was never one for public displays, affection or otherwise. 
“And dress more appropriately next time, Y/N,” Your mother huffed as she glared at where your legs were showing. You wisely chose to hold your tongue at that, knowing nothing good would come out of you smart-mouthing your own mother as well. 
Thankfully it was at that moment the Malfoy family decided to make an appearance, led by Draco himself. He greeted both of your parents and ruffled your little brother’s hair while giving your shoulder a gentle pat. You smiled back at him and his wife, Astoria, giving both of them hugs before discreetly moving toward where their son was standing. 
Scorpius was the same age as you, also starting his seventh year. Not to mention the fact that you were cousins. As you got closer, the gleaming sign of prefect in his hand caught your attention.
“Is that a Prefect sign, Malfoy?” You couldn’t help but ask in amusement as you stood next to him, elbow nudging his. 
His head snapped to the side at your voice, having obviously been lost in thought and giving you an annoyed look. “Jealous, Greengrass?”
“Hah!” You chuckled. “As if. I’d rather not run around the halls after foolish first years.”
“Your brother is a first-year,” Scorpius pointed out.
“Exactly,” You smirked in reply as he shook his head. “Why do you have that anyway?”
“The previous Prefect bailed out apparently, so they needed a new one,” Shrugging, you noticed his eyes glancing around discreetly again. 
“Is that even possible?” 
“Don’t ask me, at least I am one,” Scorpius leered in jest as you scoffed, retaliating smoothly.
“How’s your little girlfriend?”
His silver-blue eyes widened as he slapped a hand over your mouth quickly and you winced at the sudden force. He looked at both of your parents who were far too busy talking about other things.
“Not so loud!” He hissed, bending down to glare.
You pried his hand off you in irritation, before raising your eyebrows at him. “They don’t know?”
“I haven’t told them yet,” Scorpius muttered.
“How can you not tell them you’re dating a Potter?” you asked in disbelief but made sure to keep your voice down. “The whole bloody school knows.”
He gave you a look. “My father would disown me.” How daft of him to even think that, you wanted to cackle. Draco Malfoy disowning his only child? As fucking if. 
“You actually think that?”
“Wouldn’t yours?”
“Well of course he would. He’s my father. But uncle Draco is different, you know that. And your mum just happens to be the nicer sister out of our mothers.”
Scorpius gnawed at his lower lip, guilt obvious at your words. He was well aware of your relationship with his aunt and uncle, and no part of him had planned to make it sound like he wasn't aware of it.
“I’ll tell them. At Christmas.”
Your nose twitched at his cowardice but didn’t bother trying to persuade him anymore. It was his business, after all, cousins or not. You weren’t a meddler. 
“Alright you three, it’s about time for you to get on the train,” Draco then spoke up with a soft tug of his lips as he turned to face your little group - your little brother having been silent and only gawking at the train throughout all the exchanged conversations.
“Yep, see you later Dad, Mum,” Scorpius was quick to place a kiss on Astoria’s cheek and give his father a one-armed hug before vanishing through the crowd and towards the train, trunk in hand.
You could only gape at how quickly he had left you alone at the mercy of your whole family.
Not that Draco and Astoria were the problem. You loved them honestly. But it was a different story when it came to interacting with them in public besides your own parents and what was appropriate in their opinion.
You were never allowed to show a big variety of emotions growing up. Always having to stand tall and unbothered, not let anyone see your weaknesses.
“Are you ready for your last year, sweetheart?” Astoria walked up to you, dainty hands cupping the sides of your face and looking you over with sparkling, nearly black eyes that showed none of the same dead, emptiness her sister did.
And you felt a pinch of sadness inside of you never having been called that from your own mum.
“As ready as I’ll ever be,” You managed to breathe out, a hint of genuine nerves shining through your hard facade. 
Your aunt and uncle were one of the few you allowed yourself to relax around. And they knew it as well.
“I’m sure you’ll do great,” Draco assured you gently before turning back to face your father, voice hardening only the slightest, almost in warning. Not that it helped. “Won’t she?”
In contrast to the Malfoys' bright voices, your father's was low and indifferent. “Yes, of course. We expect only the best.”
“Oh come on Blaise,” Draco clapped the back of his best friend, features losing the good-natured look and replaced with a slightly tense smile. “Hogwarts isn’t all about studying.”
If you could, you would have hugged the life out of your uncle for trying his best to make this moment into something more comforting for you. As futile as it was.
“Well you better go Y/N, or else you’ll miss the train,” your mother then spoke up, nothing near the loving tone your aunt had used. "Make sure your brother finds his way around."
“I’ll take my leave then.” Taking a hold of your brother’s smaller hand you lead him towards the train, trunks in hand. Him waving at your family as you got on and the door closed behind you.
You turned around to peer down at him expectantly. “You’ll find your way around right?”
“Yes,” he huffed at you. “I’m not a kid.”
Your lips tugged up, but you kept them at bay. “Of course you’re not.” You ruffled his hair before making your way down the tight crowded hallways of the train.
It seemed like most compartments had already been filled with people, and you tsked in annoyance. Nearing the end of the train one compartment caught your attention with only a single person in it. You couldn’t see who it was, but for now, you could care less. 
Sliding open the door, you leaned against it.
“Do you mind?”
The boy had a head of black hair and looked up as you quickly recognized him.
“Not at all,” Yoongi replied, before turning back to the notebook in his hands.
Not offering any words, you only shook your head in bemusement at his usual behavior.
After making sure your trunk was safely placed above your seat, you sat down closest to the window which also happened to be across from Yoongi. You didn’t bother to say anything to acknowledge him as you crossed your legs and looked out at the scenery passing by.
The only sound in the compartment besides you two breathing was the sound of his pen scribbling on the notebook on his lap in concentration. You couldn’t help but glance over in curiosity a few times - not that you managed to see what he was writing from your seat. What you didn’t understand was why he wasn’t seated with his usual group of friends around school. They were quite well known around Hogwarts for their apparently attractive looks and powerful family backgrounds.
The perfect young bachelors.
You weren’t the only one coming from a prestigious Slytherin family after all. 
From what you had heard, Yoongi’s family were all pureblood as well, all having gone to Slytherin as he did now. They were one of the most influential Wizarding families in East Asia, being related to the Parks - who were on top of the chain. His parents hadn’t necessarily been death eaters, but it was quite clear which side they stood on during both of the wars yet still managed to leave unscathed. They had moved from Britain and back to South Korea after the fall of Voldemort but then returned when Yoongi had been born. 
Or so you had heard from the sources of gossip. 
Despite being in the same house, you had barely interacted with the guy. It was quickly known during your first year that he was quite the loner. Refusing to open up and befriend anyone except for that close group of his. The only one you knew personally from them was Jimin Park - his cousin. Another Slytherin in the year below you, his personality being strangely kind and sweet for a snake that you could never wrap your head around.
Not to say you were a social butterfly. 
People stayed away from Yoongi because they knew he wasn’t interested. They stayed away from you because they were afraid. 
Some would think that smiling was an unfamiliar concept to you. It was always blank, or when it wasn’t, it was a glare of judgment. The only ones exempted from it were Scorpius or your other friend, Albus Potter. The two boys having been attached by the hip since first year, before adopting a pity looking eleven-year-old you into their circle. 
You’d say your bark was often worse than your bite unless people really gave you a reason to have a taste. 
You wouldn’t want to disappoint them after all. 
Taking another good look at the boy - or man -  sitting across from you. You noted that he had impressively changed quite a bit over the summer. 
He was no longer as thin and lanky as before. His face seemed to have sculpted a bit more, making it look more defined. His hair which was shockingly white-blonde before was back to black and covered his forehead in a deliberate looking mess. Wearing what looked like slacks and a dress shirt, the first three buttons unbuttoned, showcasing the pale skin underneath. The sleeves were rolled up to his elbows. The glint of metal told about the belt he wore around his hips. He wore a pair of luxurious leather dress shoes, not a single scrape on them, and shining to perfection. 
Not that you even expected something remotely cheaper looking from a pureblood.
“If all you’re going to do is stare you might as well talk,” His surprisingly deep voice, contrary to his slighter figure suddenly spoke, raising his head to lift a brow at you.
You simply smirked, not the slightest bothered at being caught. “I didn’t take you for someone to talk.”
“I’m not,” he agreed. “But I usually don’t share compartments either.”
“What happened to your friends?” You questioned, leaning back against the cushioned bench. “Trouble in paradise?”
You saw his lips tug up at your jest before smoothing out again. “More like too much paradise. Everyone needs privacy once in a while.”
You acknowledged his answer with a nod and turned to look back out the window.
“Where’s Malfoy? Expected to see him attached on your hip.”
“Probably busy snogging his girlfriend,” You replied casually.
“Ah,” Yoongi realized. “The Potter girl, isn't it? Or was it Weasley? I always mix up that family.”
“Potter,” You confirmed in amusement. “The youngest if I’m not wrong - sweet Hufflepuff girl, but quite the firecracker.”
“Who would have known; A Potter and Malfoy ending up together,” a snigger was on his lips as he spoke the words.
You returned it. “A snake and a badger. Let’s hope it’ll last.” 
“Badgers are the ones known to consume snakes, you know. Perhaps Malfoy is the one who should watch his back.”
Thinking back on the first meeting between you and the youngest Potter girl, you couldn’t help but find his analogy ironically fitting. A firecracker might even be too gentle of a description when it came to the redhead, but you could see yourself getting along with her in the time to come.
“Perhaps you’re right.”
“Hm,” He simply hummed in reply before his eyes flickered back to the notebook on his lap, your eyes following him the entire time. You should be ashamed for staring as you did, honestly. He scribbled something down before speaking up again.
“Something on your mind, Greengrass?”
“Just intrigued.”
Yoongi arched his brow in a silent question.
“For being labeled as the loner you are, you’re awfully talkative.”
“Just because I prefer my own company doesn’t mean that I’m anti-social,” He countered calmly.
You couldn’t help but agree with his answer. “Touché.”
You settled back into your seat and leaned your head back with a small inaudible sigh. You never were a fan of the long trip it took to get to Hogwarts. Your body despised being stuck in one place for too long. It always got too uncomfortable and sleep wasn’t even something you considered. 
There was a slight chill in the compartments that brushed against your exposed legs as you unconsciously tried to tighten the blazer around you to keep the goosebumps at bay. Maybe it wasn’t that clever to wear a skirt on the long ride back to school. 
The feeling of some heavy fabric being suddenly placed over your lap made your eyes snap open in surprise. Yoongi was sitting back in his seat and you looked down to see a black leather jacket covering your previously cold legs.
You opened your mouth to say something, but seeing the way he didn’t even spare you a glance and returned to writing in his book, you decided to remain silent. Adjusting the jacket a bit, you closed your eyes again. 
But what you didn’t notice in your relaxed state was the way Yoongi would glance up at you from time to time. 
It was nearly completely dark outside the next time you opened your eyes. The compartment was empty beside yourself when the door slid open and you met the familiar green eyes of your best friend.
“I’ve been looking for you,” Albus Potter stated as he leaned against the doorway with crossed arms. His black hair was disheveled on top of his head as always. This time you allowed yourself to smile genuinely with no fear of judgment.
“Sorry,” You muttered and shook your head. “I lost track of time.”
He took another glance at you before questioning. “Did you sleep?”
“I guess so,” You shrugged in reply, though you were put off at the revelation. You had simply closed your eyes to rest them like always but managed to lull yourself to sleep. 
“Well, you better get changed,” Albus clicked his tongue and glanced down at the golden watch on his wrist that he received for his 17th birthday just a month previously. “We’re nearly there and you’re probably the last one still lounging around.”
“Alright, alright,” You waved him off sounding annoyed, but a part of you had missed his punctual nagging and welcomed the familiarity of it.
Albus stepped inside the compartment as you stood up, just to wrap an arm around your waist and pull you into a hug, that you wholeheartedly accepted. A near sigh of relief coming from you.
You had missed the comfort of your best friend being stuck inside the cold manor of your family for half of the summer. 
“I missed you,” Albus must have known how bad you’ve had it, or Scorpius had filled him in, that nosy fool. 
“I missed you too.”
With a peck against your cheek, he stepped back outside and shut the door with the blinds falling down to conceal you from prying eyes. 
That was when you noticed the jacket laying by your feet. Picking it up you simply stared at it for a few seconds before shaking your head.
You managed to change quickly by summoning your uniform and replacing them in the trunk. Straightening out the plain gray skirt and tucking your white blouse in the waistband. Finishing with the stockings and putting on your shoes, you felt the train lurching to a stop and saw the station outside the windows. 
Tucking your wand in your pocket and draping the leather jacket over your shoulders, you stepped outside the compartment to see Scorpius had joined Albus in waiting for you.
“So sleeping beauty has finally joined us,” Your cousin smirked at you.
“Oh shut up, I wasn’t the one running off to snog my girlfriend and leaving my cousin for the sharks,” Was your retort, seeing the faint blush creeping up his cheeks.
“Shut it both of you,” Albus groaned. “That’s my sister you’re talking about.”
With a girlish giggle, you only let yourself make around your closest friends, you looped your arms through both of theirs before starting to pull them towards the exit. The three of you managed to push through the excited first years and towards the carriages.
The younger students automatically moved out of the way seeing three upper years waltzing up. You had seen a glimpse of your younger brother, but he quickly vanished within the crowd after being led towards the boats.
When the carriages finally came to a stop, Albus helped you step down before making your way inside the familiar stone structure.
A visible smile of comfort was drawn on all three as you looked around the castle.
“Can’t believe it’s our last year,” Scorpius spoke on the way toward the Great Hall.
“It’s surreal,” Albus agreed. “I’m gonna miss Hogwarts.”
Me too, you couldn’t help but think back but decided to keep your thoughts to yourself. 
The only positive thing about leaving the magical school was the fact that you could finally move out for yourself. There was no need to live in the suffocating manor of your parents anymore now that you were seventeen and nearly graduated.
The Great Hall was in an excited buzz for the start of the term. People from all houses were racing across the room to greet friends after the long break. The three of you made your way over to the table covered in mostly green and silver before sitting down at the complete end, closest to the doors. It was where the graduating students usually sat, with the first years closest to the front. 
You couldn’t help but try to look around in curiosity in search of one certain snake in your year, but it was hard to find someone in the masses of the crowd with such a neutral hair color like black.
“Is that a new jacket?” Albus questioned you as he noticed the leather draped over your shoulder.
“Uh no, borrowed it from a...friend,” you hesitated at the words and he noticed it quickly.
“Really?”
“No, not really.” 
“Who gave it to you?” He continued to probe.
“You know Yoongii?” You turned your head to look at him seated beside you.
“It’s his jacket?”
“Yeah,” you confirmed. “I was cold and he leant it to me.”
“I never took him for someone who cared,” Scorpius added in the conversation. He sat on the other side of the table, facing the two of you. 
“Neither did I, but I was apparently wrong.”
“Wonder why he gave up the Prefect position,” Albus mused as you frowned. 
“Wait - he was the previous Prefect?” You asked in surprise. “Since when?”
Both of your best friends gave you exaggerated looks. 
“What do you mean since when, since he was chosen in fifth year, what else,” your cousin snorted. 
Out of nowhere, a pair of hands clamped down on your shoulder so suddenly that you couldn’t help but jump and let out a curse, knocking your knee against the underside of the table - your heart racing frantically inside your chest.
Laughter broke out from your friends as you whipped around to glare at the culprit that scared you. 
“Bloody hell Parkinson, get a life will you!” You snapped, fond irritation coating your words at the guy guffawing behind you.
Liam Parkinson, the only son of the newly divorced Pansy Parkinson, was laughing. He had the same light brown hair as his mother with her dark eyes. With about a head taller than yourself, the guy waltzed around Hogwarts boasting his lean and muscular build that came from being a beater towards any girls who would fall for his tricks. 
“Come on now, love. No need to be so uptight,” With a smirk, he slid into the bench next to you.
“How was summer, mate?” Scorpius asked him through his own snickering, propping an elbow up on the table, chin against his hand lazily. 
“Dreadful,” Liam replied with an exaggerated roll of his eyes. “Mum’s been moping every single day. Don’t even know why. It’s not like my father was dad of the year either.”
“Sorry to hear,” Albus grimaced at those words, having grown well-known of the drama that apparently followed pureblood Slytherins everywhere they went. 
“Yeah, I wish my parents would get a divorce,” Your blunt words were no surprise for anyone. “Can’t handle having the two of them in the same room.”
“She mostly spent summer with us anyways,” Your cousin added.
“Thank Merlin for the Malfoys.”
Before they could continue, the grand doors to the Great Hall opened up, hushing all conversations in the room. A long line of first years started to stumble inside, looking around in amazement. You caught your brother’s eye as you sent him a quick wink in encouragement.
But after seven years of the same thing, the sorting went by dreadfully slow for your taste as you tried to hide your chuckles from the foolish things your friends were whispering about. When you heard your brother’s name being called, you perked up to see him nervously step up to the stool before the hat was placed on his head. There was only a 10-second wait when his house was called out.
“Ravenclaw!”
You didn’t hold back your applause as you cheered for him like the table clad in blue and bronze.
“Hey, who would have thought? First Greengrass not be sorted into Slytherin,” Liam commented as he threw an arm casually around your shoulder.
“He’s not the first one,” You rolled your eyes with a smile. “Just the only one currently alive.”
“You think your parents will be okay with it?” Albus asked you.
You nodded. “It’s better than Gryffindor or Hufflepuff. I think they expected it.”
The sorting flew by after that along with the speech of Headmistress McGonagall who wished everyone back to Hogwarts to do their best, along with addressing the new Head boy and Girl. Who happened to be Albus and a girl from Hufflepuff you had never heard of before. 
It was when dinner began that people rose up from their assigned house tables and sat with their friends instead. It was such a usual occurrence now that no one even reacted. The Great Hall went from going color-coordinated to a sea of green, blue, red, and yellow all mixed together. 
You were just glancing over your shoulder when you caught the familiar face of Yoongi sitting at the end of the Ravenclaw table with his usual group. That reminded you of the leather jacket now draped across your lap. 
“I’ll be right back,” you told your friends, standing up and making your way over.
The seven boys weren’t one of the silent groups, that was for sure. And you noticed how they seemed to differ in years as well, not only houses. But they quickly saw you coming in their direction as they looked on in curiosity.
You ignored all of them as you took hold of the jacket and addressed the owner. “You forgot this.”
Yoongi simply stared up at you for a second before accepting the clothing you held out. “It seemed like you needed it more than me.”
“What a gentleman." You allowed yourself the smallest hint of a half smirk. “But you might not be so lucky to have it returned next time.”
Yoongi raised an eyebrow at you. “Next time?”
“Don’t be a stranger, Min,” was all you said before turning around and sitting back down with your friends, who all looked at you strangely.
They had never seen you go out of your way to get to know someone. Even if that someone was in the same year and house. 
“What was that all about?” Liam questioned you.
You took a sip of your pumpkin juice. “I think I just made a new friend.”
+
The semester was kicking your arse only two months in. Flooding you with homework and preparations for the upcoming N.E.W.T.s, your professors turned merciless to make sure everyone was prepared. 
With prideful parents like yours, they only expected the best. You had two acceptable choices in their book. It was either becoming a Ministry official or the Department of Mysteries. 
You never were fond of the second choice, and the thought of becoming an Unspeakable didn’t sit well with you. Not after everything you had read about what happened there during the war. Becoming a ministry official seemed the logical choice, your attention being on the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, where Harry Potter himself was the head and had changed tremendously in the years since his appointment, having become one of the most praised departments in the British Magical community. 
However, with Hermione Granger as the current Minister of Magic, there wasn’t much of the Ministry to be talked badly about with how much effort the past war heroes have done to make sure everything was going in a positive direction. 
Too bad they couldn’t change your family too.
Putting down the quill in your hand, you glared at the stack of books by your side and several pieces of parchments being filled to the brim. Your body ached from sitting for too long, and the air in the library was starting to feel suffocating to you.
“That doesn’t look pleasant,” a voice suddenly commented at the sight of the table you sat on.
You weren’t even surprised anymore to hear that voice near you.
Yoongi and you had developed a strange sort of friendship ever since the compartments.
It wasn’t one where the two of you spent time together to hang out. But rather silent companionship, where words were spoken freely without fear of insults or hurt feelings. You were both too damn stubborn for that. 
You never sought out for each other’s company. Simply conversing whenever you cross paths. And it happened more often than you would have imagined.
“Never said it was,” You mumbled without turning around and stretching your stiff fingers.
“How long have you been sitting here?” Yoongi asked over your shoulder.
You could sense the way he was scanning your writing and what you were working on.
Taking a look at the watch on your wrist you shrugged. “Since 12.”
“On a Sunday of all things?” there was amusement with a hint of disbelief in his voice.
Glancing up at him you arched an eyebrow. “So Mr. Antisocial has never studied on a Sunday before?”
“Believe it or not, I do have a life you know,” Was his reply while walking around the table and taking a seat on the chair opposite of you.
“I find that hard to believe,” you leaned forward with a leer as he narrowed his eyes at you good-naturedly.
“How unfortunate for me,” he drawled.
You snorted unattractively, before leaning back in your chair with a stretch of your arms. “What brings you to the library on a weekend then?”
“I’m bored,” Yoongi replied. “And Namjoon was getting too intellectual for my taste.”
“Namjoon?” You pondered over the name. “The Ravenclaw prefect in our year?”
“The very same.”
“Well if I don’t remember wrong, he is one of the top three students.”
“Doesn’t change the fact that his rants are annoying. Jeongguk isn’t like that,” he pointed out.
“Ah yes, I remember him,” You chuckled. “Cute kid. Though he ran off when he bumped into me once.”
“Must have been your charming smile,” Yoongi taunted with a sarcastic smirk as you sneered at him in irritation. “Perhaps stop glaring at everyone you see?”
“I did not glare at him, thank you very much,” You sniffed in a dismissive manner. “I hardly did anything before he squeaked out an apology and ran as if a Hungarian Horntail was after him.”
“And there you have Jeongguk for you,” he smiled in amusement at the picture of the fifth-year Ravenclaw running off at the sight of you. “Maybe you should stop being so intimidating.”
You stared blankly at him. “Says you.”
“I’m pretty certain people don’t run away from me in fear.”
“Fear makes people respect you,” You replied as you gathered all your parchments in a neat pile to take back with you to the common room.
“I’m sure that’s what Voldemort thought as well,” he mused.
“Whatever,” Scoffing, you stood up with an almost sassy quality to the way you propped your hips out to the side staring down at him. “You don’t see me planning to take over the Wizarding World now, do you? Too much of a hazard.”
Yoongi raised his eyebrows, half smirk on his lips. “How would I know? You could be conspiring up a plan as we speak.”
“Funny,” A blank statement coming from you. “Well you’re starting to annoy me, so I’m leaving.”
With those words, you turned around with your things and walked away. 
“You’re welcome!” he called after you. 
Walking out of the library you headed towards the dungeons People from other houses might find the lower levels of the castle uncomfortable and a hint creepy. But you found comfort in the dim lights and darkened hallways. After going through them every day for the past seven years, you do get used to it. 
But the cool air reminded you too much of your home with your parents which sent unwanted shivers across your skin. 
With a mutter of the password in front of the entrance, it swung open allowing you inside. It was mostly empty, seeing how it was Sunday after all. And most people were probably still hanging around at Hogsmeade before classes started again in the morning. 
But a particular figure lounging on the black leather couch in front of the fire caught your attention. You walked over and plopped down on the couch beside him as you put your things on the table in front of you. He didn’t even acknowledge your existence as you looked at him. 
“What’s with the face?” You asked. 
Liam Parkinson let out a dramatic sigh as he leaned further back on the couch, looking positively devastated.
Or at least he tried to. You knew the guy far too well to know when he was playing it up. 
“I’m being dumped by my two best friends...” he muttered miserably. 
“What did they do?” You questioned while your lips twitched. 
“Hanging out with their girlfriends is what.” He was actually sulking, dear Merlin. “Leaving me all alone.”
“Wait, I thought Albus and that Jordan girl broke up before summer?” You said confused. 
“They did,” Liam agreed. “But apparently they contacted each other again during the break and are trying to ‘figure things out’.” He said in question marks. “Whatever that bloody means.”
You noticed how bitter those words sounded as you suppressed a laugh.  
“Awe, come on now Parkinson,” you cooed teasingly and threw an arm around his shoulders. “I’ll tell Albus of your heartbreak.”
He glared. “You’re a cunt, you know that?”
“I’ve heard worse,” You shrugged nonchalantly. 
“You know, I haven’t snogged anyone in over six months,” Liam told you like it was the most scandalous event to exist. 
“I’m sorry to hear that?”
“Yeah, so am I!” he nodded his head vigorously. 
“What, no French girls that caught your attention?” Referring to his trip to France with his family during the summer break.
“None...” he grumbled, before suddenly perking up again. Suddenly his face was uncomfortably close to yours as you stared at him weirdly. 
“Snog me, Y/N.”
You simply scoffed as you put a finger on his forehead and pushed him away. 
“I’m not gonna snog you, Parkinson.” 
“Why not?” Liam whined out. 
“I don’t go around kissing friends.”
“Isn’t that what friends are for?” He pointed out as you arched an eyebrow. 
“Not when it comes to your intimate needs.”
“Is this because of Min?” 
You paused for a moment. “What about him?”
“I mean you have been spending awfully a lot of time with him,” Liam pointed out. 
“It’s not like I seek him out.” It wasn’t your fault the castle was awfully small these days. “We just happen to cross paths a lot. We’re in the same house and year.”
“Still,” Your friend shrugged. “Why now? You’ve had six years to talk to him.”
You only shook your head in a dismissive way and didn’t bother to reply. 
The truth was that you didn’t have an answer for him. 
You wondered yourself; Why now?
+
The Great Hall was pretty vacant on a Wednesday afternoon. Many still in their last class for the day, while others were lucky enough to have a free period before dinner and chose to spend the time outside before winter drew closer. 
Yoongi was counted as one of the lucky ones as he sat by the long table, his friends of the same age sitting on either side of him.
Namjoon was busy scribbling down notes from a Transfiguration book, his black-rimmed glasses pushed to the bridge of his nose, while Hoseok was staring out into space, absently making a napkin float in the air with his wand. They only missed Seokjin from the same year who was a Gryffindor, but he was too busy with Quidditch practice to be with them.
The boys had three other friends in their close-knit group. But they were younger than them, so classes were scheduled differently.
Yoongi himself wasn’t doing much as he sat there silently reading a book he didn’t even remember the plot of. He must have spaced off some time ago as he read the same sentence over and over again.
A screech pulled him out of his daydreaming, and he looked up to see a familiar black owl swooping towards him. The bird elegantly settled itself on the table in front of him with a letter in its beak.
Taking it, Yoongi gave an affectionate scratch on top of his head. “Thanks, Hades.”
With another sharp squeak, the owl opened its wings and flew back out.
Yoongi looked down at the envelope and let out a sigh as he recognized the rich and thick parchment.
“Another one?” Hoseok’s voice asked him sympathetically.
“Yeah,” the Slytherin only said while he ripped open the dark purple wax seal.
Yoongi.
Your father and I trust that your studies are going well. Keep a reminder that this is your last chance for the highest grades if you have ever cared about your future. We will be visiting your cousin for Christmas - she is getting married to a very high standing officer within the Ministry of East Asia. You should learn something from her. 
Nevertheless, you’ll have to remain at Hogwarts this year. And do not think I have forgotten about your childish decision to drop the Prefect position without consulting us. You will go through with this marriage, which will only benefit our family. So stop being selfish and think of our family for once. 
Do try to keep your distance from those of lesser positions, my dear. We wouldn’t want to taint this arrangement anymore than necessary.
Mother. 
His eyes scanned over the elegant writing of his mother, for each sentence his jaw tightened in annoyance and frustration. The letter was finished with the familiar seal of his family. As if it was some kind of formal greeting instead of just a message to her son.
After finishing it, he threw it on the table as Hoseok reached out for the parchment to see for himself. 
“Is she still going on about that engagement?” Namjoon then spoke up, attention never pulled away from his scribbling. 
“Seems like I have no choice anymore,” Yoongi grumbled out his reply with dark eyes. 
He heard a scoff to his side and glanced over at his Hufflepuff friend. “And she never forgets to remind you to keep away from mudbloods and blood traitors, I see,” he did air quotations as he said the terms, not even the slightest bothered even if he knew a part of it was directed to him. 
“You know my mother’s obsession with blood purity,” Yoongi could only shake his head in shame at that. 
“Do you know who the family is?” Namjoon cut in, changing the subject. 
“Of the bride? No idea. They haven’t even told me who they’re considering. Knowing them it’s probably some pureblood snob from a powerful family.”
“They can’t actually force you, can they?” Hoseok asked in disbelief. “I mean it’s your life!”
“If only it was that easy, mate,” He sighed, now suddenly feeling the weight of the whole situation resting on his shoulders. 
“Why, you’re already seventeen. There’s nothing they can do,” the Hufflepuff countered fiercely.
“Technically they can’t,” Namjoon said, closing his book gently, back straightening, and both knew he was about to come with another intellectual fact of his. “But you also have to remember that without contact with his family, Yoongi wouldn’t have anything to live on. His Gringotts account is connected to his family name. So if he were to just drop it all and run away, it would be futile.”
“He has us!” Hoseok argued. “It’s not like we would let our friend roam around without money.”
“I wouldn’t let you,” Yoongi then snapped, before taking a deep breath. “As much as I despise my blood, I’m not going to spit on my pride and borrow money from any of you.”
“Then what are you going to do?” His friend asked with a look. “You’re not just going to let them ship you off to some unknown girl?”
“I’m pretty sure it’s the girl that’s coming to him. If we account for the misogynistic traits of pureblood families.” Namjoon decided to correct, as both of the men present rolled their eyes. 
“I don’t know,” Yoongi admitted. “But if there’s one thing I’m sure of, it's that I’m not getting married anytime soon.”
“Is that why you dropped out of the prefect position?” Hoseok asked, finally bringing up the subject their whole group had been curious about ever since the term started. “Because of the arrangement?”
“Just a last attempt at trying to persuade my mother. Didn’t exactly work,” Yoongi scoffed, remembering back to his last desperate attempt to try and change his parent's mind. 
When he had first gotten Prefect in his fifth year, Yoongi could admit that he had been quite proud. He was raised to become a great leader and at that time was still under the influence of his parents' larger-than-life ambitions for him. Luckily it wasn’t like that anymore and he was his own person now. Though a person is still chained to his family name. 
“Since when did you and Greengrass get close?” Namjoon suddenly asked. “My girl says she’s quite scary.”
“Your girl?” Hoseok repeated amused, leaning forward in interest. “You mean the girl you met in the library? I thought that was just a one-time thing. How does she even know Greengrass?”
The Ravenclaw shrugged, though there was a visible blush slowly spreading on his cheeks. “We just started to hang out and things changed. Besides, she's a Slytherin as well.”
“The girl who dyed my hair pink?” Yoongi deadpanned as both of his friends snorted at the reminder. 
“I thought you quite liked the look,” Hoseok smirked mischievously. 
“I was just too lazy to change it.'' The older male defended himself, even though he had spent the rest of the semester wearing the shocking color. “And we’re just talking, it’s not that big of a deal.”
Hoseok and Namjoon exchanged glances without the knowledge of their other friend. 
“What if she’s the one you’re arranged to marry?” Namjoon joked. 
“Hah! That would be something,” Hoseok laughed before high-fiving him. 
Yoongi rolled his eyes at the antics of friends. “You’re both insane.”
Yet a part of him whispered almost tauntingly, but what if?
He brushed it away quickly. 
+
Staring up at the black iron gates that separated you from your house caused you to heave out a tired sigh. The feeling of the impending doom somehow wouldn’t go away. 
You had been called up to the headmistress’ office on a whim while you were on your way to the Great Hall for some dinner. Apparently, there had been an urgent message coming from your mother demanding your presence back at the manor for the evening. 
Knowing your mother, you knew she was probably just being overdramatic about something that didn’t have to do with you but still wanted to have you there for just one reason; they were having guests over and wanted to give the overall false image of a happy and complete family. 
The entire idea of having to play pretend with your parents and obnoxious sister made you want to spend the night in Azkaban instead because your youngest brother had not been called him. 
Taking out your wand, you waved it in front of you as the protective shield identified you as one of the residents before flickering away for a moment to allow you access. The metal gates ground open as you made your way down the path to your house.
After stepping inside and closing the door behind you, you remained silent for a couple of seconds, trying to detect the sounds of chattering coming from the dining room - but there were none. 
Sighing again, you realized you had unfortunately managed to arrive before the guests had. 
“Y/N is that you?”
Before you had the chance to even think about escaping, your mother suddenly came from the direction of the library as she spotted you.
“Merlin, how slow can you be with a portkey at your disposal?” She shook her head before grabbing your shoulders and pushing you into the direction of the living room, her nails digging uncomfortably into your skin. 
“No one told me anything,” You defended yourself before shaking off her hold and walking the rest of the distance yourself. 
“That doesn’t matter now. You’re late and have no time to change and make yourself presentable,” she scowled in reply.
The only people in the living room were your father and sister, both looking presentable and clean - like a pureblood family should look. You stood out from your family’s pristine and overpriced robes being dressed in your Hogwarts uniform. 
You felt your father scan you from head to toe with his chilling and disapproving gaze as you avoided looking at him. You also noticed how your sister just wasn’t looking presentable. She had dressed up more than usual, adorning a velvet emerald green dress that flared out from her waist and to her knees, the sleeves stopping at her elbows with a sweetheart neckline. 
Something was definitely going on. 
“Who are we waiting for?” You dared to question your family in the room. 
Your mother rolled her eyes as if expecting you to know the answer already and guilt-tripping you for not being more involved in family affairs. 
“Your sister’s fiance and his family are coming for a visit, how could you forget?” She tsked. 
Ah, the so-called arranged marriage that you had heard about for the past couple of months. You didn’t know about the family or the guy, but they were obviously wealthy enough for your parents to look their best. 
And how were you supposed to know that it was today?
“Then why am I here? I’m not the one getting married,” You responded slightly annoyed. 
“Y/N, stop being rude and behave yourself!” Your father snapped in reply as you flinched back. “I expect you to be on your best behavior tonight. No foolish remarks, understood?”
With a clench of your fists, you nodded mutely, not offering any words in fear of your anger showing and making him even more pissy. Your sister simply scoffed before smoothing her hands down the fabric of her dress with an excited glint in her eyes. 
“Mother, do you think he’ll like me?” She asked with the voice of an innocent girl as you resisted the urge to show your irritation. 
“Of course he will, darling!” Your mother cooed, patting down her hair gently. “Any man would be a fool not to like you.”
“We’ll see about that,” You muttered to yourself as your sibling heard and sent you a fleeting glare while you smirked in reply. 
It was at that moment that the flames of your fireplace rose up high and turned green as your family all waited for the guests. The first one to step out was a man. He was smaller than your father in his height and had a bit of a belly prodding out. His hair was black and slicked back and his looks were East Asian. Korean at the looks of things. 
A woman came out next. Small and petite, but with a stern gaze that calculated if you were worthy to be in her presence or not. They were both dressed in expensive clothes, with sparkling pearls adorning the neck of the woman, and a golden watch on the wrist of the man. 
“Dong Wook, Yoon Hee! So good to see you two again!” Your mother went forward to greet both of them enthusiastically, your father following her lead, though a lot more subdued and only offering polite handshakes. You were pretty certain your mother had butchered their names though, holding back a snort. 
“Ah yes, it has been quite a while,” the woman, Yoon Hee, replied calmly with a stiff smile. She reminded you of a statue.
“We are looking forward to this union as much as you are,” The man spoke up, a slight accent in his voice. 
“Of course - where is your son?” Blaise Zabini asked the other couple. 
As you waited uninterested for the supposed husband to arrive, you didn’t offer to introduce yourself and instead kept silent in the background. 
“He was just behind u - oh here he comes.”
Simply being curious by nature, you came a bit closer to the huddling group to get a good look at the guy your sister was to marry. 
It wasn’t someone you expected to see. 
+
He was frozen. 
Not only that, but he was completely speechless as well. 
Min Yoongi was frozen and speechless. And it wasn’t often that someone managed to render him to that state.
He didn’t know what he was expecting when he stepped out of the flames. 
A posh-looking family dressed in their finest robes ready to impress his family? That’s exactly what he got. But the addition of you standing next to them in your Hogwarts uniform definitely caught him off guard for a moment.
But it was just that. A single moment.
He couldn’t let his parents see his slip-up.
But he wanted to laugh. Not only laugh but actually cackle at the fucking irony after his conversation with his friends in the Great Hall. A small bloody world, indeed. 
And by the look of things, it wasn’t you who was assigned as his bride-to-be. Rather your sister, who looked far too excited for his taste.
Yoongi remained silent as he stayed behind his parents, still easily seen because of his superior height in comparison to them. He simply offered a polite nod and tense smile to the three Greengrass family members, who seemed determined to keep the pleasant conversation flowing between them and his parents. 
But he couldn’t help his gaze from straying to where you stood. Several times actually.
It was obvious you were the odd one out. Not just because of your clothing. The distance you kept was fairly obvious, and your facial expressions told him that you’d rather be anywhere else right now. 
The next time he glanced at you again, he was fairly embarrassed to see you already looking at him.
You were arching your eyebrow up in an expression that obviously asked: “Thought I didn’t notice?”
“Yoongi, why don’t you let your fiancé give you a tour of the house and get to know each other?” His mother suggested, sounding pleasantly polite, but her eyes that stared at him told him he had no other choice. 
“Of course, you two go on then,” Mrs. Greengrass agreed and ushered her eldest daughter to his side. 
Just as he was about to follow her out of the room, he heard your voice speak up in the most polite tone he had ever experienced from you. 
“Then you wouldn’t mind if I took my leave then, mother?”
Yoongi only managed to catch a glimpse of the expression on your parent's faces, but it wasn't good. 
“Why don’t you join them?” His father suddenly spoke up. “Y/N was it?”
You nodded. “Yes sir.”
“Manners,” he nodded approvingly. “We’re to be family, after all, you should join them.”
Your eyes flickered to where he stood and the clear reluctance in them made him have to smother his chuckle into a small cough. 
“But they’re to be married, shouldn’t the two of them spend the time together?” Your mother argued back, voice strained and trying to remain courteous. 
Yoongi’s mother shrugged. “Like my husband said, we are to be family after all. And they’ll have more than enough time to get to know each other during their marriage.” The finality in her words was obvious as Mrs. Greengrass simply nodded. 
He saw you nodding at his parents with a strained smile before making your way over to where he stood with your sister, her hands already holding onto his arm impatiently. 
When the three of you got out of the dining hall and out of hearing range of the adults, his fiancé - which he still didn’t know the name of - was quick to speak up. 
“Couldn’t you just have remained silent, Y/N?” She spoke to you in annoyance as you sent her a sarcastic smile. 
“I couldn’t exactly say no either, Isla ” you retorted from the other side of him. 
Ah, so that was her name. 
“You did that on purpose didn’t you?” Isla, now glared. 
You never let lost the, frankly, malicious expression. “Oh yes, because third wheeling on you and your fiancé’s awkward first meeting was my ultimate goal.”
“That’s a bit offensive, how would you know if I’m awkward” Yoongi finally spoke up after arriving, sniggering like a five-year-old at the look you sent him. 
“It’s not offensive if it’s true,” You replied with a careless shrug. “And I do know you. You might think you’re a smooth talker, but this screams awkwardness.”
“Aren’t you being a bit too cocky right now?” He arched an eyebrow. “We are to be family, after all, sister.”
Your face scrunched up at the word as you punched him in the arm. “That’s disgusting, don’t call me that.”
Yoongi had stumbled slightly to the side, letting out a short laugh at your expression. 
“What the bloody hell is going on?”
Both of you stopped and turned to look at Isla, who was looking somewhat confused and angry at the same time. 
“What?” You asked her. 
“You two know each other?”
“Isn’t that quite obvious?” Yoongi drawled in reply, looking at her blankly.
“We’re in the same house and year, how do you expect us not to know each other?” You felt the need to clarify for your sister. 
“Why do you always have to ruin things for me, Y/N?” Isla sneered. 
“News flash, darling,” You returned it. “The world doesn’t revolve around you.” 
Rather than replying, Isla simply huffed, grabbing his arm again and pulling him along rather forcefully as Yoongi simply let her. Not a single part of him had been interested or engaged in today’s meeting. But with your presence at his back, following them leisurely, he couldn’t help but be slightly more present with how things would turn out. 
Yoongi hardly paid attention every time Isla spoke and pointed out something of the Greengrass Manor as they walked through the dark, cold halls. He hummed here and there to keep up the pretense of giving a shit, and he knew you knew it as well with your scoffs and snorts now and then as your sister thought she was saying something interesting. They must have walked through a part where your bedroom was located, because he noticed your presence behind him suddenly ducking into a door to Isla’s ignorance, and he took his chance.
“Do you mind pointing me towards the bathroom?” Yoongi kept his voice neutral, and she was more than happy to. “I’ll meet you downstairs with the others, this might take a while.” This time he sugarcoated a bit of a charming smile to convince her to leave, and it worked. 
He waited a few seconds before coming back out and saw the hall empty, making his way towards the door you had slipped into, noticing how it was a smidge open. With a simple push of his hand, it opened with a quiet creak and he took in the spacious space curiously. Decorated after your taste in shades of dark burgundy and browns, a contrast to the rest of the house. But the chilly air remained. 
“Find anything you like?” 
His eyes snapped to your form lounging on a reading nook right by the large windows seeing out into the vast estate gardens, it being pitch black outside. You were leaning against a heap of pillows, a blanket loosely pulled over your bare legs in the uniform. 
“You snuck away, so I was worried.”
“Worried, or curious?” 
Yoongi offered a half-hearted tug of his lips. “Does it matter?”
“I guess not.” You glanced at him again, taking in his form leaning against the doorway casually. “You can come in, you know.”
“Didn’t want to risk getting hexed, is all.”
“If I wanted to hex you, I would have done it in the compartment.”
“Fair enough.”
Walking inside the room leisurely, he couldn’t help but feel like you were offering him a glimpse of your true self. It was decorated in a way to try and chase away the coldness of the house and your family itself, with colours that reminded him of Gryffindors rather than that of a snake in the dungeons. 
You shifted slightly, and he took the silent invitation to sit down beside you on the wide, pillowed window seat, a few inches of space between you. 
“So? Marriage, huh.”
“Still in talks,” Yoongi mused mysteriously. 
“You obviously don’t want to.”
“Hm, was it my expression that gave it away?” You rolled your eyes at his sarcastic remark, kicking a foot against his thigh. He simply chuckled. 
“Were you even aware?”
“Sure, been for a while. But I never knew who.”
“What’s your verdict?”
His brown eyes met yours, almost with a sparkle in the dim lighting of your room. “That I’m not the only one with family issues.”
You both shared a laugh at the truth of that. 
“That’s to put it lightly.”
“How about you? No prospects set up in your future?”
“Merlin, no.” You scoffed, an almost ironic chuckle following. “My parents would never offer me up to anyone. I’m too…risky. Stubborn and prideful too. They’ve given up on my romantic life and only care about the career aspect of it.”
“I wish that was me.” Yoongi shifted closer, his thigh touching your stocking-covered feet, shoes already on the hardwood floor. 
As if testing the waters of your strange friendship with him, you stretched your legs lightly only to rest them across his lap, and he turned an amused gaze towards you at the action but didn’t push them off. 
“You don’t mind, do you?” Your voice was teasing as he shook his head. 
“You want a foot massage at that too, Greengrass?”
“If you’re offering-” Your words cut off in a slight squeal as his fingers tickled the underside of it. “Stop it!”
Luckily he did, but not before grinning mischievously, instead resting his hands on your calves surprisingly relaxed. This was the closest the two of you had ever been in the last two months since the train, a strange yet not-so-abnormal development. 
“We should probably get back down before they start looking.”
Yoongi hummed, agreeing to your statement. “We should.” Yet he didn’t bother moving.
Looking up from your lap you were surprised to him already staring at you. Or observing might be the better word, because there was no hiding the curiosity shining in those, frankly, hypnotizing brown eyes. 
Licking your dry lips, his eyes flickered down to the motion as you clicked your tongue almost smugly. “Anything interesting to see?”
Your body stiffened unexpectedly at the warmth of his surprisingly large hands curling around your calves, his lean body leaning forward with a small, suspicious smile. “If I didn’t know any better, I would think you were trying to seduce me, Greengrass.”
Flicking up a brow, you kept your nonchalant attitude. “And if I was?”
“That would be quite the scandal, wouldn’t it?” He kept his voice low, lower than his natural voice which was already deep enough to sometimes grate against your skin. “I’m to be your future brother-in-law after all.”
“Thought you weren’t interested in marriage?” You couldn’t help but goat him further, straightening in your lounged position against the pillows that drifted you further towards him. 
“Would still cause a scandal.”
“I don’t peg you for someone who gives a shit,” Your blunt words were rewarded with a huff of his low laugh as you swallowed. Were you nervous? 
“Well, now you’re just tempting me,” Yoongi’s dark eyes were dangerously intense, looking you over as if you wore something much more interesting than the rumpled Hogwarts uniform. 
“Tempting you?” You repeated, not managing to keep your laughter at bay, lips slightly pulling back and revealing your teeth in a small grin. “Didn’t know I was someone able to tempt you.”
His surprise this time seemed to be genuine. “Are you serious?”
Your arms crossed almost defensively. “What?”
“You don’t think guys are interested in you?”
“I didn’t say that,” You replied calmly. “Even so, they hardly make the effort to let me know they’re interested.”
“I told you, it’s the evil smirk and glare you always waltz around with.”
You kicked his leg again in retaliation, as Yoongi laughed, managing to grab a hold of it and tug you forward surprisingly quickly for his lazy demeanor, your thighs now resting sideways on his lap. 
“You are a menace,” You muttered, no real ire in the words, gaze flickering back up to his. 
He was thinking about something, or considering it. That much was obvious to your keen eyes, but you weren’t sure of the specifics. “What is it?”
“What do you mean?” He sounded a bit too relaxed, however. 
“You’re thinking awfully hard about something,” You pointed out almost a little bit too obnoxiously. It didn’t seem to bother him. 
His tongue dragged along the inside of his lower lip as he gave himself just a couple seconds to debate saying what immediately came to mind. 
“I’m thinking of kissing you.” 
Your breath caught, throat seemingly drying up at the bold admission. Your widened eyes taking him in and expecting a joke to follow the words. But he remained scarily serious, lips never twitching up into a smile, only taking in your reaction carefully.
Bloody hell, he was being serious.
As if opening some secret door in your mind, your eyes really took him in this time around. Starting from his immaculate black clothes to his hands and ending at his face, his surprisingly soft-looking lips capturing your attention. 
“That’s…certainly interesting,” You croaked, not managing anything else.
Those mesmerizing pink lips pulled up into the hint of a smirk, feeling much closer than before. “Is it?”
“Scandalous, actually,” You whispered nearly dazed, before managing to look into his eyes again. 
Shit, he was close. Suddenly comprehending the warmth of his hands placed on your thighs above your skirt, the blanket having somehow slipped to the floor and his face only inches away from your own. 
“Very scandalous,” Yoongi hummed, a low sound that you enjoyed more than you cared to admit. “But tempting, no?”
He was getting closer, only a whisper of a breath away from yourself. His breath was fresh, probably having brushed his teeth before arriving with the smell of his spicy, yet tantalizing cologne tickling your nose. 
“They could kill us for this.” There was no secret who they were, with both of your families still waiting downstairs, oblivious to the thoughts both of you were having in the privacy of your room.
"Your best friend is Albus Potter. I'm sure he can convince his father to spare us from the wrath of our uptight parents."
His joke hardly helped.
Your attention was suddenly reminded of the still open door, but before you could say anything it gently flicked shut with a wave of Yoongi’s wand and a murmur of a spell, which you recognized as a silencing spell as well as a detection one just in case.
“Are you afraid?” His whisper ghosted over your skin, the familiar hint of your defiance returning to his satisfaction, scoffing and giving a look of ‘Really?’
He continued, aware of his selfish desires as his goading continued, but not caring enough about the consequences to stop. “What’s stopping you then?”
You took a deep breath as if trying to calm yourself. But the moment you opened your eyes again, Yoongi knew you had decided as a brow flicked up in expectation. 
“Is it ladies first in this situation then?”
With a grin he hardly noticed on himself, Yoongi surged forward with a hand cupping your cheek as he pulled your lips against his firmly, a breath whooshing out of your nose at the action. There was no hesitation on his part as he pulled one of your legs over his hips and switching your positions so you straddled him. 
Your hands traveled up his nape and curled into the strands of his hair as your mouth opened to return the intense kiss. His tongue licked into your own, as he let out a sigh of relief almost, your heart thundering inside your ribcage, wanting to be closer to him, as you did just that. 
Bodies flush against each other you returned his kiss enthusiastically. Feeling his hands slipping underneath the untucked shirt, your breath hitched. 
Yoongi couldn’t help but wonder what other sounds he could get you make. Your fingers combed their way into the back of his hair, carding through the soft strands of it as he gripped at your hips. One hand dragged heavily up your spine, guiding you to arch further forward and against him.
A protest lay ready on your lips as you felt him pull back, only to turn into a soft moan as his lips traveled down your jaw and the sensitive skin of your neck, head tilting to the side to give him more access. 
Actually, you wanted him to continue his kisses exactly there, finger tightened and trying to hold him there in light demand, as Yoongi chuckled against you, teeth nipping gently in response. 
His mouth returned to yours, intense kisses turning slightly more desperate for you as you shifted, hips rising and aligned with his own before grinding down to chase after the heat that had taken over your body, one place specifically flaring for attention. 
He groaned lightly, body leaning back to give you more access this time around, and you continued the slow roll of your hips, skirt bunching around your waist as his hands left your hips and trailed down the sides of your thighs, the stinging cold of his silver ring following that you hadn’t noticed. 
You felt him hardening quickly beneath your ministrations. But it was affecting you more than him, with only the barrier of your knickers separating your throbbing clit compared to the material of his slacks as well as underwear. 
“Fuck, you’re driving me crazy.” Yoongi murmured softly, finally finding the strength to pull back from your tempting lips. 
“Don’t you dare stop, Min Yoongi,” You breathed out harshly. 
“Oh yeah? Is that a demand, love?” He had the fucking audacity to smile at you, innocently at that, as if he didn’t know what you were going through, his hands cupping the cheeks of your arse and holding you tightly against him.  
With another pointed grind of your hips, you watched in satisfaction as his eyes nearly rolled back in his head with a grunt before fluttering back open, but only making the want in you even needier, your desperate want for him flaring even more. 
With an almost vicious tug of your fingers in his hair to tilt his head back, he hissed at the pinches of pain as you leaned forward to murmur against his ear. “If you do not make me come before leaving this room, I will hex you into oblivion.”
With a hoarse laugh coming from the back of his throat, Yoongi returned to pressing wet kisses against the side of your neck. “You could have just asked, Greengrass.”
He didn’t give you a warning until you felt one of his hands sneakily slip to the front and pull your knickers to the side as his thumb found your swollen clit embarrassingly quickly. Your breath hitched due to your sensitivity before easing out into a moan as he started circling the nub, your hips twitching and rolling slowly as if following the motion.
“So responsive,” Yoongi hummed in satisfaction, gaze locked onto your expression to watch your response to every move of his fingers. 
You felt him slide them between your cunt, finding your wet entrance as he slowly pushed a single, long finger inside, never stopping his torturous, slow circling. Your hands found the nape of his neck, gripping almost too tight. 
“Fuck, stop teasing me,” You begged, practically draped over his body, sweat coating your skin underneath the white blouse. “Please.”
Grappling around to find his face, you pressed your lips desperately against his, trading slow open-mouthed kisses as he continued his dance against your clit while pushing a second finger inside your squelching cunt. 
Your moans started breaking up, hips quickening and trying to chase that building feeling of completion, but his other hand which gripped your hip tightened, pulling you to a stop. 
“If I had known how wet you get for me I would have fucked you sooner,” It was Yoongi’s turn to exhale harshly, your pleasure seemingly affecting himself as his fingers sped up, pulling a long whine from you as your blunt nails dug into his skin. 
Yoongi didn’t seem to mind. 
He felt it coming, the way your whole body was starting to tense up, your continued whisper begging him not to stop, your thighs nearly caging him in as he listened gladly, face tugging into the crook of your neck as his own arousal was throbbing beneath his clothes. 
The moment his thumb pressed down against your swollen nub, you came with a shuddering moan, your walls clamping down on his fingers and pulsing as your thighs shook. His circling slowed down, helping you through your high until you stilled above him, breathing harshly and wiggling to make him stop. 
Listening to the silent demand, he made sure you were watching him as he pulled his fingers out and lifted them to his mouth, sucking your essence off as your half-hooded gaze followed the movement. 
“Delectable,” Yoongi grinned, watching the addicting way you ducked your head in embarrassment, a new emotion coming from you. 
As if realizing what had just occurred, you nearly jumped off him, but stumbled to the side from being seated so long, his clean hand coming up to balance you as your skirt fell back down to cover you. 
Glancing in the mirror, you were shocked at how thoroughly fucked you look. Hair slightly frizzled, clothes askew, and your skin flushed down to your neck. Yoongi couldn’t look more satisfied, leaning back on his hands and taking in your appearance with a quick scourgify charm and cleaning you both up. 
“Stop looking so…smug!” You couldn’t help but huff. 
“Can’t help it,” He grinned again, an expression he offered you much more freely now. “I asked for a kiss but you gave me something much more, love.”
“You started it.” Was your mature reply. 
“And I don’t regret it.”
“Bloody hell!” You cursed, suddenly reminded where the two of you were, and spun around to look at the clock. Fifteen minutes. 
“We need to go.”
For once he nodded in agreement. “You go first. Find some excuse that I’m in the library or something and I’ll be there soon enough.”
Your eyes narrowed. “Excuse me? Why are you not coming?”
As if talking to a child, you followed his pointed gaze towards his lap at the bulging evidence as your mouth parted in realization, a cough scratching against your throat. 
“Right, that’s…my fault. But you are not jacking off in my room!”
Yoongi simply laughed. “I’m not gonna jack off, Greengrass. I only need a few minutes to calm down. Go ahead, alright.”
With another suspicious glance, you relented. 
“Fine.” 
Walking briskly out of your bedroom after making sure everything looked alright, a part of didn’t deny the urge to run away from the bizarre situation that just happened between you two. 
So much that you nearly begged your parents to let you go back to Hogwarts for the evening, in the middle of their tea time before dinner. They let you, luckily. And with a tense goodbye to the Min’s, you rushed out of the dark manor as if fire was licking at your heels, vanishing with the portkey outside the iron gates.
Min Yoongi was avoiding you. 
An irritating discovery that made the anger in you boil over. 
A strange moment occurred in the common room one night as you stepped inside between Scorpius and Albus to see the man sitting in the leather armchair by the fireplace, only to stand up and leave the moment he caught your eye with a flat expression. 
Obviously, you had expected him to seek you out after your quick retreat from the manor, but that was simply due to the fact you didn’t feel like being in a room of your family after having been finger fucked to oblivion by the one person they wanted as a son-in-law for your sister. 
So you had waited, tensely at that, for days for him to find you. Days went by until you managed to see the first sight of in in the Great Hall with his usual friends. But he had ignored you, or simply not paid attention. 
The second time had been in the halls of your classes, with him coming from the opposite way. But he had been engrossed in a conversation with his Gryffindor friend to the point you were unsure if he had even noticed you. 
It wasn’t until the third time in the common room that you knew for sure the bastard was avoiding you. And you had no bloody clue why, because you weren’t the one to initiate the kiss and cross the line the two of you had drawn. 
It was him. So his mess to clear up, and not yours. 
By the second week of no communication besides exchanged glares from your part, and empty looks from him, you’ve had enough. 
You had a free period - lo and behold, so did he. He was sitting in the Great Hall, surrounded by all of his friends, listening silently as they spoke animately around him. 
Everything silenced, however, the moment you stopped behind him, hands on your hips as you stared daggers into him. Yoongi had the nerve to not turn around and face you, despite being aware of you there. 
“Can I help you, Greengrass?” He simply drawled uninterested, igniting the cribbling irritation you were already feeling. 
“We need to talk,” You grinded out, ignoring the obvious looks his friends were exchanging between themselves. 
“About what?”
“You know what!” Was your snap. Ready with another pissed-off retort, he finally heaved heavily before standing up and stepping over the bench. His slightly superior height over yourself added to your anger, as he tilted head in expectation. 
“After you.”
With a glare you lead the way out of the Hall, going until the end of the long hallway and underneath a hidden alcove many didn’t pay attention to. Turning around with arms crossed over your chest, Yoongi leaned back against the stone walls with a bored expression. 
“What the fuck is your problem?”
He didn’t react, only offering you a glance of attention. “Don’t tell me you expected anything?”
“What?”
“It was a bit of fun, Greengrass. Hardly need for a deep conversation after.”
The bloody nerve of him. 
“How dare you!” You spit out, the harshness of those words actually catching his attention. “How fucking dare you. Tricking me, using me for my body and only to avoid me after?”
Guilt flashed in his eyes, of how this situation felt for you as a woman. But it disappeared quickly after, as he steeled himself yet again, features falling flat. “I’m sorry that you feel that way, but that isn’t why I’m avoiding you.”
“Then why?”
“I’m your sister’s fianceé, remember,” He delivered coldly. “If the family knows what we did it will ruin both of our reputations.”
“You know I don’t give a fuck of my reputation!” You shook your head in near dizziness, gesturing between you almost wildly. “I’m trying to fix this friendship.”
“It was a bad idea to begin with. We’re to be family after all. Can’t have us fucking secretly in broom cupboards now, do we?” His crass words somehow managed to make you flinch, the prospective shame of being viewed as the secret sidepiece to your sister’s husband. 
This whiplash of a change in his behavior was slowly drawing your energy. Two weeks ago he had told you there was no marriage if he could stop it, and now he had seemingly already settled into the future role of a pureblood husband. 
Despite only having known each other for nearly three months, you had figured him out fairly quick. He was cold in his interactions with others, and borderline bored. But you had seen him with his friends.
And you.
That gentle smile, teasing quick of his smirk or rare bright grin whenever he truly let himself go without fear of being judged. 
He was a man who cared deeply but hid it beneath an exterior of aloofness and severity due to the demands of his family and expectations of the world. Something the two of you shared, and been able to understand from each other. 
Yoongi was someone who had become dear to you in a short amount of time, even to the surprise of your own friends - who had watched the development in fascination. 
You thought he at least had the decency to feel the same about you. If not a potential lover, then at least a respected friend. 
Brushing his slightly parted black hair back with a hand, he rove another expected gaze over you with a sigh. “If we’re done here-”
“Why do you keep shutting me out?” You spat out in anger, stopping him in his tracks to turn around and walk away. 
His back was tense underneath the black school robe. From your view, you saw how he clenched his teeth to refrain from saying something he would regret. Not that he hadn’t already. Only lucky that you could take a biter fiercer than anyone else. But you didn’t care about filter at the moment. You would be damned if you let him walk away from you without a clear explanation of his change of personality. 
“I said it’s none of your business!” he snapped in return, the first time to raise his voice at you. 
You didn’t bother to hide the scoff coming out of you. “Well, you made it my bloody business the moment you spoke to me!”
Yoongi still didn’t bother to turn around and face you, so you could only see his side profile. Your eyes trailed down to his hands that were tightened into fists by his side. Nails digging into his skin creating marks. His black hair was messier than usual like he’d run his fingers through it too many times during the last hour. 
“Bloody hell, Y/N, just leave me alone,” he whipped around to glare at you coldly, mouth pulled up in a sneer. An expression you had seen many times, but jokingly. Never had it been pointed at you, and you nearly flinched at the viciousness of it. 
You resisted the urge to whip out your wand and curse him into oblivion. With a determined mind, you walked up to him and grabbed his wrist tightly. 
As if trying to squeeze some sense back into him. 
He was void of any emotions. Telling you nothing of what he was feeling, his walls up higher than you had ever seen, reminding you of a fortress to never be shaken. 
“You need to stop pushing me away,” You told him in a hard voice. “Not everyone is out to betray or control you. Fuck, I care about you, okay!”
His eyes flickered down to meet your own, but they still remained blank, making the pit in your stomach grow. 
Yoongi pulled his wrist away from your hold. “Stop caring.”
And then he walked away, leaving you standing alone in the hallways of the castle.
+
Christmas came and went.
Your holidays having been spent completely at the Malfoy Manor to your parent’s chagrin.
But you had remained firm in your choice after hearing the Min’s were coming over again with their son to spend more time together for your sister’s benefit. So you had made sure to stay the bloody hell away. 
Min Yoongi had kept to his words since that faithful argument in the hallways, completely ignoring you and acting like you never talked to each other before. Just like it had been the six first years. 
It annoyed you how much you still thought about that heartless bastard. You had done swimmingly well so far until that stupid day on the train. Six years without a single word towards him, yet he had managed to flip your world upside down as if he had been the missing piece in it all along. 
Scorpius had noticed it. Albus had noticed it. For fuck’s sake, even Liam Parkinson who could be as daft as a troll sometimes, noticed it after the argument. 
“So his excuse was that you couldn’t be friends because he’s engaged to your harpy of a sister?” Albus brought it up again one morning during breakfast, the first week back to Hogwarts after the holidays. 
“Yes.” You sighed wearily, at this point having no energy to care anymore. Even though you knew otherwise. 
“Even after he finger fucked you?” Liam deadpanned beside you, as a unanimous groan went through the rest of your friends. 
“That’s disgusting. I don’t need to hear that about my cousin,” Scorpius grimaced, pushing away his nearly demolished plate of scrambled eggs and hashbrowns. 
“You think I have a magical vagina or something, Parkinson?” You flicked up a brow, but Liam being Liam only leaned in with a saucy wink. 
“I could believe it.”
“Merlin, stop it, please.” Albus looked seemingly green from his seat. “You’re basically my sister, so please stop talking.”
“A sister that you made out with last year,” Scorpius muttered loud enough for the group to hear as Albus blushed red to the tip of his ears.
“W-we were drunk!” He argued with a small glare. “I thought we already agreed to let it go.”
“Don’t worry, Al.” With an innocent batter of your eyes, you joined in on the heckling. “You can admit I was a damn good kisser.”
“Shut up.” Throwing a grape in your direction, you simply caught it with a hand before popping it into your mouth with a teasing grin. 
Slinging an arm over your shoulders, Liam sighed almost sadly. “Why does Al get to kiss you, but I don’t?”
Leaning back on a hand, you stared. “You want to kiss right now?” 
He didn’t expect the reply, startling with slightly wide eyes before they narrowed again, detecting the tug of your lips with a waggling finger. 
“You are one sneaky witch.”
“I know,” Sharing a chuckle, all four of you finished breakfast before heading out for a walk in the cold, but sparkling snow-covered grounds warmly wrapped in your scarves and mittens. 
It was a Sunday; everyone was seemingly dead tired after the first week of classes and sleeping beside your group. It was the last year for everyone, so you blamed it on wanting to spend as much time as possible before leaving the castle that had been your home for the last seven years. 
Just as you were about to wrap your green and silver scarf tightly around your neck as the main doors to the grounds came into view, Liam suddenly stood in your path with a suspicious grin. 
“What?” You eyed him slowly.
“From a scale of 1 to 10, how much would you describe your vindictive vendetta against Min? 
Looking to the side to catch the eyes of both Scorpius and Albus, who were obviously biting back smiles themselves, you frowned. 
“What are you babbling on about?”
“Just answer please.”
“I don’t know, 8.5?” The number came to you randomly but seemed realistic enough to describe your feelings.
Liam nodded seriously as if this was some serious discussion. “8.5, certainly very high. High enough for a drastic plan.”
You were confused. Utterly baffled about what he was talking about, simply staring without words to say. 
Then he smirked, but not the kind that you were used to. The one he used to jokingly flirt and try to drag you into stupid situations. This was the smirk you had seen him use against witches enough of times to see them melting at his feet.
However, your wariness only rose. 
“Just don’t hex me, alright?”
“What are you-”
Before you knew it, he grabbed both ends of your scarf and tugged you against him, lips pressing against yours as your eyes widened in shock. 
He leaned back just enough to mutter cheekily. “Just play along.”
Resisting a roll of your eyes, you listened. Letting them flutter shut as his mitten-covered hands came up to cup your cheeks and draw you into the kiss even further. He never used his tongue, only moving his lips against yours which you returned, hands loosely holding onto his waist until he pulled back.
“Hm,” Liam pursed his lips thoughtfully with a nod. “No lie there. Damn good kisser.”
Despite the bizarreness of it, you laughed. 
“That was ridiculous,” Scorpius shook his head, but there was an amused smile playing at his lips. 
“Explain,” You finally demanded. 
It was Albus who came over, grabbing your chin and turning your gaze in the direction of the doors just in time to see the familiar form of Yoongi disappearing from your views. 
Your mouth parted in realization at what Liam had tried to do. 
“You scheming pieces of shit.” Your voice was proud, however, and the boys knew it as they high-fived before pulling you towards the grounds, all of you cackling like idiots.
“Let’s hope things only go up from here, huh,” Liam pulled you into his side while walking, and with a grin you stayed there the entire trip down to Hogsmeade. 
+
You ran into each other not even three days later.
Literally nearly crashing coming from different directions before rounding a corner and you jumped back at the last second. Yoongi had halted as well, startled eyes cooling down swiftly and taking you in before moving to brush past you. 
“How was Christmas?” 
He paused, to your relief. And even replied. “As usual. Nothing interesting despite the dinner.”
“Did your parents leave for Korea?” You remembered him mentioning it in brief passing and how he was supposed to stay at Hogwarts before shit went down at the manor. 
“They did,” A tense nod. “Right after and I returned to school.”
“Ah, right.” Fuck, this was awkward. And ridiculously tense. “I’ll just-”
“And you?”
You were shocked he even bothered to ask. “Good. It’s always a nice time at the Malfoy’s. My aunt Astoria loves Christmas and makes a big deal out of it.”
“The Malfoys, huh.” Yoongi looked like he had eaten something horrid. “I assume Parkinson was there as well?”
Liam? You frowned in confusion, why would he suddenly mention him? “Yeah, he came over for a bit.”
“I see.”
He was acting odd. More than usual. 
Then it went up to you. The kiss from two days ago, that Yoongi had obviously witnessed in his passing and you didn’t even realize. 
You couldn’t stop the chuckle as his brown eyes zeroed in on the sound with narrowed eyes. “What?”
“Nothing,” You shook your head, but your laugh kept spilling out. 
“You obviously find something amusing, Greengrass.”
“You’re the ones who’s amusing.” For the first time in a while, you smiled at him, only briefly, but enough to loosen the tense expression on him. 
“You’re not making sense.”
“Jealousy doesn’t suit you, Min Yoongi.”
He scoffed, cheeks slightly rosy from the winter cold in the halls and skin looking even paler than usual with the white backdrop from outside the large windows. His hair was still black, no new colour this time around, slightly longer in the nape of his neck but not much changed.
“What makes you think I’m jealous?”
“This right now.” You replied simply but decided not to goad him any further. “I guess the engagement is a go?
Yoongi was considering lying, you could see it. The way he didn’t reply right away was enough of a sign. “My parents…haven’t decided if your sister is a good match for me yet.” He admitted slowly. “Due to the dinner during Christmas.”
“Shocking.” You were anything but. 
Your sister might bear the Greengrass and Zabini names, as well as an acceptable desk job at the Ministry, however, she was shallow and childish. Always craving the best, and wanting to appear the best. Traits that people easily looked through within the first few minutes of meeting her, and you doubted the keen eyes of Yoongi’s mother hadn’t seen the same. 
There were negatives to being a pureblood in the presence of other purebloods. It was a competition of judgment and pride. There was never more than trying to see through carefully built walls, being the first one to win. 
And your family, or sister in this matter had clearly lost with impressing the imposing Min family. 
Yoongi was saying they were considering it. But you both knew that was just a polite way of saying they had already decided that Isla Zabini Greengrass was not worth of their name. 
This was also why you assumed he actually gave you time of the day again. There was no impending marriage to your family pinning him down. No way for him to use the excuses he had made to ignore you the past month and a half. 
“You must be happy.”
“It is a relief.” Honesty, wow. Yoongi must really feel bad.
He was tense, ridiculously so, and you almost wanted to torture him a little more. But maybe not today.
“Are you done having your head up your ass now?”
With that single sentence, his shoulders eased. Face falling into a grim line as his head dropped, guilt coating his whole shape and form. 
“I’m sorry.”
“I know.”
“I’m really sorry, Y/N.”
Your lips twitched, repeating. “I know.”
Yoongi finally looked at you, his eyes were so obviously sad it was almost funny. “You don’t know. I was an asshole to you, just because I was afraid.”
“Out of all people in this castle, I’m the one who might just understand your situation the most.”
This time it was his turn to smile, although ruefully. “I know. I was stupid not to see it.”
“What now then?”
“Friends?”
You laughed, loud and clear, the voice ringing out in the empty corridor leading to the Slytherin common room. It took you a few minutes to calm down enough to not burst into new spurts of laughter. 
Yoongi remained silent through it all, wincing as your eyes met his with aq raise of your brows, seeing through his bullshit as easy as walking through a ghost. 
“Cut your bollocks and tell me the truth.”
He swallowed. 
Yoongi obviously didn’t want to be friends. Who the fuck stays friends after kissing as they had. After where his hands had touched your body. Seen a side of you no one else had. Fuck no, not a single part of him wanted to remain as just friends. 
He wanted you, quite frankly. Craved you at this point. 
But not just your body. 
He wanted everything that you could offer him. Your very soul if you were willing. He was ready to accept it all. 
But he couldn’t voice it out loud, fearing what he had done was enough to damage to the little bond that managed to sprout between you. 
“You need to say it,” You coaxed him firmly. “Or else I’ll walk away.”
Fuck, it was now or never. 
“Can you give me another chance?” Yoongi searched your expression carefully, but you were tricky witch even to him. 
“As friends?” You repeated slowly. 
“No, I don’t want your friendship,” He managed to sound more firm this time around, seeing the way your eyes widened only the tiniest bit. “I want you, Y/N. Just you. No strange friendship tip-toeing around each other. I want you with me.” Yoongi paused almost nervously, before adding in a low voice. “If you’ll have me.”
You bit back the grin wanting to spread across your face, skin flushing with the words he offered you so sincerely you almost teared up.
“What about your marriage?”
He waltzed up to you, inches apart as you stumbled back in surprise, the stone wall luckily meeting you for support. His large hands cupped your cheeks lovingly, eyes crinkling up in the corners as he smiled without abandon, sending your heart thumping happily. 
“My parents wanted a Greengrass as a wife.” His thumb brushed over your lower lip as your lips parted, his smile turning into a scheming smirk, muttering against your lips. “Who said they won’t get one?”
You snorted, letting down your guard, hand trailing up his chest and shoulders before wrapping around his neck. “You are one hell of a Slytherin, Min Yoongi.”
And then you kissed him. 
The world and its problems could wait. 
For now, all you wanted was to remain in the arms of the stubborn, prideful man in front of you, kiss him until you both ran out of breath. 
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So this has been in the drafts since 2018. Heh. 
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idyllic-affections · 1 year ago
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i’m thinking about kaveh first dropping off his kid in ghandarva ville. he did a good job explaining to them that he’ll be back before they know it and that he’ll alway be there for them. before he leaves he feels little hands clutching onto his leg as they just whisper “you promise you’re gonna come back? you won’t leave me, right? you promise you won’t leave me?”
i'll be back.
summary. kaveh finds the strength to leave his child in gandharva ville.
trigger & content warnings. fear of abandonment, references to kaveh's backstory.
tropes, pairings, fic length, & other notes. comfort, soft angst. adoptive dad!kaveh & child!reader. 0.9k words. they/them pronouns for reader.
author's thoughts. wow you just woke up today and chose gentle violence huh anon /LH i love soft angst. hard angst? yeah, it definitely hurts, but soft angst like this? idk. it hits different sometimes!!!
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kaveh did not want to resort to this. he didn't.
the architect truly, sincerely had tried his very best to think of any alternate solutions—maybe he could convince alhaitham to give [name] a chance? no, caring for a child he impulsively decided to pick up off the streets isn't his roommate's responsibility and it really never would be unless the scribe himself decided to take it on, but some people have spontaneous changes of heart! why would alhaitham be any different?
(unfortunately, said man was not going to budge anytime soon. a child would disrupt the comfortable life he had put so much effort into building. kaveh had no choice but to accept that fact. well, really, he knew from the beginning! he was just hoping alhaitham might change.)
in the end, he managed to come up with nothing. he could not think of a single good or attainable option that would allow him to keep them. as much as he hated to admit it, only alhaitham's solution was a viable and reasonable one.
so, here he is, standing in front of tighnari's home in gandharva ville motionlessly with his child held securely in his arms. there were no words in any language that kaveh knew of that could describe what he was feeling. he wordlessly rubs soothing circles on their back.
the silence is impossibly loud.
tighnari does not rush him. he does not so much as even think of complaining. he simply waits quietly with collei at his side, the girl bouncing on her heels slightly in a nervous fidget. she wants to be a good caretaker to [name]; tighnari knows the prospect alone of having to care for them is making her nervous.
kaveh's slightly wavering voice finally breaks the silence:
"you know why i have to leave you here, right?"
they nod quietly, little hands clenched in fists raising up to rub at their watery eyes with their palms—they hope it looks like they're tired and not like they're about to cry, which they are. they hope he doesn't know they're about to cry. they hope he just thinks they're tired from the long journey. they hope he doesn't know the truth.
kaveh knows, of course.
he doesn't say anything about it, though, and only tries to swallow back his own emotions. he tries his best to repress the nauseous feeling stirring in his gut. he tries his best to repress the crawling of his skin. he tries his best to repress the thoughts that this is so impossibly wrong, so impossibly cruel of him.
he hasn't known this child for long, but...
he felt like he was abandoning them.
he felt like he was abandoning his flesh and blood.
absentmindedly, kaveh wondered if this was how his mother felt when she left to fontaine. he hopes not. this feeling is vile. he wouldn't wish it upon his worst enemy.
"and you also know that i'm going to come back all the time to see you, right? and i'm always going to be here if you need me?"
their voice cracks slightly. "yeah."
it's not at all that kaveh doesn't trust tighnari and collei; he does, and he knows they'll take good care of [name], but... still. he wants to be the one taking care of them. he wants to keep them.
he can't.
kaveh then kneels down, and their heart sinks in to the pit of their stomach, despite the fact that they already knew this was inevitably going to happen. just as they dreaded, he sets them down onto their own two feet.
they're reluctant to release their tiny grip from his shirt, but they do so regardless of their hesitance. a slight whimper rises in their throat when kaveh's warmth is gone from them.
kaveh hasn't ever really had to comfort children before.
he's... not sure what to do from here, quite frankly, so he does the first thing that comes to mind.
he leans forward, pressing the smallest, most hesitant of kisses to the crown of their head.
then, he stands up.
he doesn't get very far before one of their little hands is clutching his pant leg, and he inhales sharply, turning back to face them. "[name]..."
kaveh cuts himself off.
their eyes are wide, glittering with the sheen of unshed tears, and their bottom lip is split and cracked—they've either been picking at it or biting it, kaveh notes. how did he not notice before?
in their moment of sadness and stress, their accent peeks through a bit more heavily. it's in a shaky voice on the brink of breaking that they ask, "you promise you're gonna come back, right? you won't leave me, will you?"
...
kaveh earnestly believes he might cry about this when he gets home. oh well. alhaitham will simply have to deal with it.
for now, though, he doesn't cry. he can't.
the architect kneels back down to their height, wiping away the single tear that slid down their cheek with his calloused fingertips. "of course."
"you— you're not gonna leave me, right? you're not leaving me?"
"no. never. i promise, okay?" he whispers. "i'm here, okay? i'm always here if you need me. you just need to tell tighnari. he'll tell me you asked for me and i'll come back here. anytime."
kaveh briefly wonders if he'll regret making such a promise—his clients may suffer if they ask for him at a bad time—but then again...
he can't really say he ever will, not with the way they look at him with such vulnerable trust.
he can't regret it when they're putting their damaged trust into his hands.
please consider reblogging, it helps me out quite a lot!
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akiira00 · 1 year ago
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Hellooo💚
May I ask request Jinwoo x reader with reverse jealousy. Jinwoo leaves for raid, comeback with news telling that he's get close to female hunter and assume they have a relationship. Reader drink while looking at the news, start with rumble, then when the alcohol hits, it's turn to tear and sob. Lay down to couch and cover their face with pillow. Jinwoo come home, seeing his lover on couch then find their trace of tear on cheeks. When he wake them up, they're still drunk so they pour their feeling in drunk behavior while sobbing and hiccups.
Ah sorry if this is so long, idk how to tell this in a short description😭
Love your writings💚💚
— Assumptions
Pairing: Sung Jin-Woo x g/n! reader
Genre: Angst, comfort, angst to fluff, slow burn
Synopsis: You suddenly hear assumptions of your not publically announced boyfriend dating another girl on the TV, with the remarks of your friends and all, you end up consumed by the worry.
A/n: Sure! I don’t mind long requests, they give me more inspiration to write! You asked for tears, I shall give you some. Hope you like how it turned out, and yeah, I chose Hae-In as the ‘assumed girlfriend’ because I didn’t find any other that could fit the role-
Length: 1.6k words
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As you woke up, you realized your boyfriend had yet-again left early to clear raids, which you just shrugged off, going downstairs and grabbing something to eat as you sat down on the couch, noticing a weird piece of paper.
“Sarang, I’ll be home late today, have to go clear some raids. See you.”
You sighed to yourself, folding the paper and leaving it on the table’s top while grabbing the remote to turn on the TV.
“Yet again, the S-Rank hunter Sung Jin-Woo cleared a red raid in less than four hours…! But wait- Hunter Hae-In was there too?! Now that I think so, they look fairly close…”
You heard the news speculating as you froze at the sight. The news and social media were exploding with images of both Jin-Woo and Hae-In together, really, really close.
As you tried to keep yourself calm, you couldn’t get your eyes off your phone, you noticed a faint blush on Hae-In’s cheeks on the image. “What the…”
You turned to text him to seek out an answer, but the news showed both him and Hae-In walking into another raid in a row. There went the chance to talk to him.
Your mind was running like crazy, as you clutched your hand on your thigh. ‘Is he really cheating…?’ ‘Am I just… Not enough?’ You asked yourself messily as you started yet once again overthinking.
“Such a good way to start a day…” You muttered under your breath as you noticed it was 2 p.m. sharp. ‘What are they both doing in since four hours ago…?’
You were just a C-Rank healer, and Jin-Woo made it clear he wanted you to stay at home instead of working, as he could take that part easily.
‘Is it just because Hae-In is actually strong or useful…? Is that what I’m lacking…?’ You thought, standing up with a sigh as you reached out on your cabinet for a rather small bottle of alcohol.
‘It should help me clear my mind at least…’ You opened the bottle and fetched yourself a glass, pouring some of the drink on it.
As you brought the glass to your lips, you let down a few tears at first, letting yourself be consumed by the heat forming on your throat because of the drink.
‘Jin-Woo and Hae-In, huh…? They sound well together…’ You said, feeling the horribly disgusting piece of self-pity, drowning your own mind as you filled another glass up.
“They both make such a good team… They’ve cleared multiple raids without rest! They really seem like a couple… But are they? I really hope so!”
The words spoken on TV broke your heart more than anything. ‘Yeah… I think they do…’ You hummed, as you laid down on the couch, feeling the tears flooding your cheeks, making you lean onto a cushion to cry on, ocassionaly grabbing another drink.
Jin-Woo at the other hand had just left from the last one of the raids he had programmed, he had already left Hae-In at her house and he was tiredly walking down the street.
It was almost 10 p.m., as he slowly opened the door to your shared home. He was taken aback by the dark ambient, excluding the noise from the TV, which was left on.
“Huh…?” He muttered as he went closer, trying to find the remote to turn it off, but he then noticed it in your hands, with you hugging some cushions as you slept on the couch.
“Again..?” He sighed, walking up to switch the lights on, making you hiss a bit, but what he failed to notice until then were the tear streams that were marked on your cheeks. You just dropped the remote on the couch and turned around to hide your vision from the strong lights which made you even more dizzy than you already were.
“Sarang..? What’s up…?” He shook your shoulder trying to wake you up, which ended up happening, but as soon as you opened your eyes and saw him, you just scoffed, looking away.
“Welcome back… *hic*” You muttered annoyed as you turned away from him, leaving him a bit confused. “Tell me what’s going on…” He tried to convice you to talk, which made you sigh, turning to look at him with a pained look on your eyes.
“Don’t you have to be with Hae-In or something…? Just leave me be…” You muttered out annoyed between hics, as he slowly understood what was going on.
“What’s that supposed to mean…? Wait. Do you think that…” He just sat down beside you, lifting you up with his powers as he made you sit on his lap. “Huh- L-let me out… *hic*” You tried to resist, as you were clearly not in the mood to deal with him, and he noticed the red tint on your cheeks and how a bottle was laying down empty on the floor.
“Answer… What were you thinking, sarang…” You knew you didn’t have a way out of it, and just had to suck it up. “It’s nothing… Just tell me this… Am I too useless for you…? She’s clearly better than me so…”
He stared at you in utter shock. “What do you mean…? I swear if you’re thinking what the whole media is…” You had no option than to nod weakly. “For god’s sake… I don’t like Hae-In. And I’m your boyfriend, don’t be stupid…”
He meant everything, but he kind-of made it sound as if he was annoyed, which made you just shut your eyes and lay on his chest, simply bawling your eyes out as you cried, having a gentle and weak grip on his shoulders.
“Wait, wait- Don’t cry… Ugh…” He clearly didn’t know how to handle the situation, as he wasn’t the brightest when it came to comfort. “I love you and only you okay…?”
“But… W-why…? *hic* She’s just perfect… She has everything I don’t and as an extra, she’s actually useful… I’m just a bother to you…” You were consuming yourself with shame and self-pity, as he had no other option than to pat your back gently, letting you spill out your concerns.
“You’re fine… I don’t like her, and what if she’s an S-Rank? I told you not to do raids because I can take care of that… I just went with her because an agreement… I don’t care about power and you know that…” He said, trying to explain it to your now childish and intoxicated self.
“Hmph… I-I don’t believe you…” You muttered out between sobs and hics, turning to hug him as you tried to let youself get convinced by his words slowly.
“I’m telling you the truth… Just rest, okay…? I’ll talk to you in the morning…” He suggested, picking you up almost too easily and getting you to the bed, where you fell asleep quickly because of how tired you were from crying.
Next morning, you woke up with a heavy headache, leaving you dizzy as you couldn’t even recall the passed events. Your mind was a total blackout, as you just sloppily tried to stand up, but the sound of the door opening made you wait.
Jin-Woo moved the door open as he let himself into the room, laying a plate of food alongside a glass of water and a pill near you as he sat down by your side.
“H-huh? Jin-Woo…? What’s going on..?” You asked as you didn’t remember anything special for him to do such a thing, as it was a bit too unlikely for him to do so.
“Just eat… Is there something you want to talk about?” He asked, clearly hinting at something you couldn’t recall. “No…? Is everything alright..? What even happened…? I don’t remember anything…”
“Let’s say you kind-of told me a few things… And I’m here to prove you wrong because yesterday you wouldn’t just listen…” He said with a sigh, leaning down and giving a gentle peck to your lips.
“I love you and only you, okay? Don’t ever think otherwise… I just keep our relationship private because I don’t want the media going all crazy, and you’d be kind-of in danger if you’re seen as my girlfriend… I just want to keep you safe.” He said, with you hearing him clearly astonished, but you couldn’t help but smile with a tear running down your cheek.
“Oh god- Don’t cry again now…” You shook your head and quickly leapt over to hug him, as you smiled. “I’m crying… But not from sadness.” You said, blushing a bit as you just happily let yourself into his arms, with him just shocked and struggling to thinn of what to do.
“I love you, sarang.” You said to his ear as he blushed, but he turned around to prevent you seeing that. “I-I do too, okay..? Now eat up.” You laughed a bit and shook your head, deciding to stay in his arms for a bit longer.
“Just… A few more minutes like this wouldn’t hurt.” You said, burying your face on the crook of his neck. “Just don’t ever worry me like that… Why were you two even that close?!” You said refering to the pictures of him and Hae-In that appeared on the media.
“Oh- She’s really strong, but clumsy. She fell while we took down a boss and she sprained her ankle, had to carry her back.” You blushed as you now realized how you jumped to conclusions, simply staying quiet as you felt the shame falling on you by your previous behaviour.
“I-I’m sorry… Didn’t know that-” You blushed as he laughed a bit, just letting you hide in his arm. “Don’t worry about it, just eat.” He said as you nodded, reminding yourself now that you didn’t have anything to worry about.
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redninjaoutfit · 3 months ago
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"why don't you hang out with your brother?" "he's at his new girlfriend's house"
You genuinely do not understand the emotional impact these two sentences had on me. I didn't respond sooner because this ask actually pushed me to write a whole ass oneshot about Colt and Lucky based on this. I've been sat here in my pajamas doing nothing but writing.
SO. ENJOY. IDK IF ITS GOOD BUT I HOPE YOU LIKE IT AND KNOW IT DESTROYED ME EMOTIONALLY. (below the cut cause its long as shit)
4386 words of unfiltered angst hurt/comfort.
His brother's soulmate
--------------------------------------------------------
The bell signalling the beginning of the next class rang out loudly, piercing the ears of nearby students and rousing birds out of the branches of surrounding trees. In their rush towards the main entrance, no one detected the hasty, light steps and delicate gush of wind passing through like a ghost, unaware that someone fortunate enough to avoid the oppressive authority of the school prefects had slipped through the front gate, completely unnoticed. The truant in question darted absentmindedly towards nearby shrubbery leading to Bullworth Town, unlit cigarette sitting patiently between his paint-blotched fingers, other hand smoothing the copper mane his older friends enjoyed tussling so much.
Colt De Luca, a Bullworth freshman and member of the feared and respected Greaser clique, could feel his legs moving yet had no idea where he was headed. He let his body take him wherever as he busied himself with searching his pockets for a lighter acquired off Ricky in the parking lot mere moments earlier.
After successfully retrieving the small object and lighting the tip of his very last cancer stick, Colt took a vigorous drag and felt his lungs burning, instantly relieving some of the stress off his mind. Granted a moment of clarity, the Greaser looked around. He found he’d already made his way over to the main road leading towards the path heading to New Coventry, his own place of residence.
Looks like it was yet another day of aimless wandering ahead of him.
While Colt was not usually one to skip school, having been brought up to value education and consider its impact on his future, today was different - much different - he thought to himself as he bitterly kicked the pebble which had the audacity to find itself in his way. Colt’s mind seemed preoccupied with thoughts and anxiety from the very moment he woke up and rose off his paper thin mattress and continued through the few classes he chose to attend and do badly in. Frustration kept him on the edge of his seat as the teachers talked and talked and asked invasive questions and refused his requests for a bathroom break (which they rightfully suspected would turn into a smoke break). Not even his trusty sketchbook helped soothe his irritable mind and upon hearing the dreaded ring of the bell, nothing could keep the boy inside the confines of the stone walls of the academy.
Colt’s anger was not unfounded yet as he traversed the decrepit streets of New Coventry he could not help but cringe at the memory of his friends’ concern throughout the day. Many of them have come around to inquire about his well being, sought him out of their own volition while he hid and ran. Norton offered to lend a comforting ear. Ricky asked if he wanted to ride around town after school. Lefty remained on his tail break upon break, attempting to get him out of his own head with chatter. Hell, even Johnny, the aloof, tough king of the Greasers said they should ditch and talk. Colt, regretfully, dismissed them all. He didn’t need their help, he could do this on his own, he was grown now.
Grownups don’t mope about the anniversary of their parents’ death.
Colt took a final drag of his cigarette and tossed it onto the side before its remains could burn him, stomping it out with his dirty loafer. He looked at the pitiful bud for a moment before averting his eyes, reminded much to his dismay of his current appearance. “I probably looked like a pathetic kicked puppy right now, damn it.” He thought to himself bitterly and headed for one of New Coventry’s many sketchy alleyways.
He’s fourteen years old, fifteen in a few months. Practically a grown man, hanging around the most dangerous and intimidating group in the whole school (excluding the Jocks, but Colt didn’t like to think about the roid monkeys if he could help it). He should have already learned how to deal with grief a long time ago, should have forgotten about the whole ordeal either way since he was merely a baby by the time he became an orphan. He had no right to miss the people he didn’t even know. Yet the stabbing in his heart and tightness in his throat he felt at the moment were just as intense as when he was first yelled at by his uncle after bashfully handing him a Father’s day card he was forced to make in school. Or when neighbourhood children tripped him onto a busy road and asked if he’d tattle to his mommy. Or when he was scowled at by teachers for being brought to school by a boy not much older than him instead of an adult. 
In previous years though, as juvenile and immature as it was, he had someone to share that grief with. None of his friends could understand better than that person did, for good reason too. He’d take young Colt out to do anything to get their minds off their parents, visit their favourite hotdog stand, wander around surrounding fields with no purpose at all, ride around on bikes from sunrise till dawn. They’d religiously visit their parents’ joined grave, year by year, and talk. Touch on things they normally would, couldn’t, and those conversations brought them closer than ever before.
This year was different, however. Colt would have to grow up and be brave on his own, since the jerk didn’t care about him-
Just as Colt was about to descend down the winding path behind the Tenements a small, familiar hand roughly grasped his upper arm, violently ripping him out of his own thoughts. He smelled the smoke before he even turned around to glance at the person with irked, surprised eyes.
Standing behind him was Lefty, his best friend, in all his jean jacket-clad, greased up glory, though the intimidating effect of his appearance was dampened by how out of breath he looked, coughing small droplets of black tar onto the pavement below their feet. Yet his grip on Colt’s arm never weakened.
“Dude, why do you have t’ be so fast?” Lefty gasped, straightening his back yet still appearing winded “Ya got a bounty on yer head or somethin’?”
Why was Lefty even there to begin with, though? Colt knew the little Greaser still had two more classes and though he often skipped school, some days entirely, he usually hid away from the prefects in the labyrinthine path toward the Autoshop. That, or he hung around the Blue Balls Casino, smoking it up to the point where they had to let it air out before entering.
He chose not to pry, however. He just wanted to hide somewhere, even if it was from who he considered a brother from another mother. Especially since his real one…
Colt sighed and looked away, feigning interest in nearby anti-Greaser graffiti.
“Not that I know of. Why are you even chasing me, shouldn’tcha be getting your beauty sleep in Slawter’s class right now?” retorted Colt, more venom in his voice than he would have wanted. He couldn’t even control himself with his best friend, what a child, he chastised himself, fists clenching.
Unbeknownst to him, Lefty had begun moving away from the alleyway as they talked, grip firm on his brooding friend as they slowly traversed the sidewalk rounding their designated yet dilapidated hangout spot. Truth be told, the chainsmoker had been worried about his childhood bud for a few days now. It was not uncommon for Colt to grow snappy and sad as they neared this time of the year, when leaves grew yellow and air crisped yet the avid painter found no drive to capture such picturesque sights. That was usually when he and the other Greasers stepped in - though emotional maturity was decidedly not their forte - to mitigate the bad moods of two of their clique members. That was when they partied the hardest, laughed the loudest, got up to most comedic hijinks they could think of and led actual in-depth discussions about things left untouched any other time of the year. The 50’s enthusiasts had their own, unique ways of showing each other they cared and, though unconventional, they usually worked.
This year was different and Lefty spotted it instantly. As the mid-October grew closer, nothing seemed to soothe Colt and the desperation Lefty felt witnessing his best friend’s pain was unlike any other. Unaware, or rather left in the dark about the reason for such an abrupt change (because he asked, many times at that!) he tried everything to make it better, which, ironically, did nothing. Which is why, having lost sight of Colt, Lefty turned to his friends to see if they’d caught wind of him anywhere in the academy.
Ricky, the ever-worrier, was the first person Lefty approached. He knew their resident mechanic usually had the most intel on all of their whereabouts since he usually obsessed over the people in his life to an unhealthy degree (such as his ex, but he didn’t like to talk about that). When asked about Colt, the older Greaser looked around the Autoshop’s entrance tentatively where he could only see Peanut and Vance having an animated conversation, upon which he leaned in, cigarette nearly falling from behind his ear.
“Don’t tell Lucky but I saw him dashin’ out of the front gate and haven’t seen him return since. Also might have given him a lighter, I ain’t proud of it but the kid was insistent.” Ricky confessed bashfully, smoothing the back of his pompadour, concerned expression never dropping from his face.
“Big deal, like we don’t all smoke.” Lefty muttered under his breath, shaking his head curtly. That was one thing he’d never been able to see eye to eye on with Lucky, he and Colt were barely four years younger than him and the rest of the Seniors yet when they smoked like a chimney it was okay. But enough about that.
“Why would Colt skip, though? He’s too nerdy for that, even on this day…” Lefty wondered.
“Don’t know dude, I’ve just been waitin’, hoping he’ll return before Luck sees and loses his shit. Hey, it wasn’t that long ago that he scrammed, maybe YOU can go bring our baby bro back since you seem to, ya know, be playin’ hooky too?” Ricky quipped playfully, looking at his watch to see it was already fifteen minutes since class began.
Which is how Lefty found himself in his current predicament, meandering the dirty streets of New Coventry, Colt in tow, head down as they traversed quietly. The silence was not awkward yet held an air of tension and sadness Lefty tried his best to signal a will to converse about through his pointed stares which, unfortunately, went completely unnoticed. Colt seemed lost in his own head, even more so than usual around the date of the anniversary. Lefty did not want to press but could simply not allow his friend to silently suffer any longer.
He led Colt towards a familiar, comforting path towards the abandoned, destroyed playground behind an old pizza parlour in a similar degree of upkeep. Since the closure of the restaurant many years back, the playground on its premises had been used exclusively by its undesignated audience of troublemakers, urban explorers and junkies who sought a secluded place to shoot it up in. It also just so happened to be where Lefty and Colt hid away since childhood when all seemed too overwhelming, when the world was just too big, their family issues too stifling.
The jean-clad Greaser moved the large carton box covering the entrance hole out of the way and bent down to pass, looking back at Colt as he went. His friends seemed aware of his surroundings at least, in his state of depression, as he mimicked Lefty’s movement and soon they stood in front of the hazardously rusty playground equipment, unmoving. Lefty saw it as his chance.
“OK dude, trust me, I know today’s rough on ya but I can see it’s worse than usual. What’s gotten into ya?” Upon receiving a deafening spur of silence in response, Lefty continued, attempting to look his friend in the eyes “I mean… skippin’ school, smokin’, ignorin’ us, to hell with the guys, ignorin’ me. It’s just… If something’s eatin’ ya up I wanna be able ta help and it clearly is.”
Desperate for any sort of answer, Lefty felt himself beginning to ramble, getting closer so he could put his hand on Colt’s shoulder in a - hopefully - consoling manner.
“And if you don’t wanna tell me, why don’t you hang out with yer brother? You know Lucky would be down to skip and drive around with you, he don’t like Maths anyway, you’d be doin’ him a favor.”
That seemed to finally get a reaction out of the artist, not one Lefty was hoping for, however, as the mournful Greaser sucked in a breath too quick to conceal and stiffened up under his arm. In the mere seconds their eyes met, Lefty saw pain and frustration and an unexpected glisten and moments later, Colt made a dash towards the entrance they had just breached.
Lefty hurriedly dove after him, grasping his arm much akin to how he caught him earlier in front of the Tenements.
“No gettin’ out of this one now buddy. Tell me what’s goin’ on and what’s it got to do with yer bro.” he stated, uncharacteristic severity in his voice as he led Colt towards the nasty, rusted swing set, other hand instinctively reaching for the full pack of smokes in his pocket “We’ve got all day, I may not be patient but for you, Imma sit here in silence till spooky hours till you’se in the mood to spill.”
Though the last part of his sentence may have been humorous, not even a hint of a smirk graced his face as he lowered himself carefully onto the squeaking swing and took out a cigarette out the box. His friend mimicked him wordlessly, sagging against his own seat’s cable, hand reaching out in unsaid request of his own cancer stick. Lefty did not hesitate before handing it over, bringing the tips of the cigarettes together before lighting them at once.
For a few solemn minutes, the two friends sat and filled their lungs with smoke, the only sound penetrating the silence between them being the croaking of the playground equipment around them and cars whooshing by on the other side of the fence. A light gust of wind tousled their hair from time to time, blowing the smoke back into their eyes, though neither gave it much consideration, lost in their own thoughts. Lefty wondered and pondered, unused to deep thought processes and obviously unaware of what exactly went down between the brothers on a day to day basis. To him, they seemed as in cahoots with one another as they usually were, albeit more glum with the anniversary of their parents’ passing around the corner. Having practically grown up alongside the De Luca siblings, Lefty felt he could confidently judge when the two had just had a falling out and despite Colt’s terrible mood Lucky appeared his regular self.
“He wouldn’t.” A meek voice disturbed his train of thought.
Lefty glanced over questioningly at his best friend who was mid cigarette drag, hands visibly shaking, brimming with anxious energy. Colt pushed himself absentmindedly back and forth on the swing with the heels of his loafers, the motion soothing to the Greaser, albeit barely. Noticing Lefty’s steely, concerned gaze, he coughed and continued.
“He wouldn’t. Be down to hang, that is. He uh… he’s goin’ over to his girl’s place today. Stayin’ the night too…” Colt mumbled and twisted his head away completely from his friend, cigarette long forgotten, burning dangerously close to his fingers and trailing ash on his pants.
Why had he even said anything at all? He wasn’t the only one who was growing older, Lucky, who’d always taken care of him, who’d always been there for him, who'd given up so much to raise both of them since their uncle couldn’t give a rat’s ass about them. He had grown too, into a respectable young adult at that, as respectable as he could be given their life circumstances. Despite being a notorious ladies man in the past, in recent months he’d been trying to actually make things work with a girl he met in their uncle’s shop. His undisputed charm worked its magic on her but contrary to his usual flings, so did hers. Lucky was actually serious about this girl, introducing her to his way of life, to his friends and (until that point, at least) the most important person in his life, his little brother Colt.
He was not jealous. At first. Jealousy is juvenile, after all. He enjoyed her presence, rather motherly, she was the calm to his fiery nature, the ying to his yang. She liked all of his hobbies and shared her own with him, some of which Lucky would never have considered uptaking in fear of them not being manly or tough enough. She was there for him through thick and thin, helped him destress and relax and take his mind off things when burnout approached since he was such a terrible workaholic. In turn, he showed her real fun, a rough, dangerous edge of the town and the Greaser way of life. Encouraged her towards spontaneity previously foreign to her.
They were a fantastic influence on each other, one could (and did, such as Lola) call them soulmates who healed a little bit each time they gazed into each other's eyes.
And Colt selfishly wished he could be such a person for Lucky.
Hence why, upon receiving the news of his brother spending the anniversary of their parents’ death, which the two of them usually bonded on, at his girlfriend’s place in a little village some distance away from Bullworth, something inside of Colt broke. The little boy inside of him, so painfully and tenderly helpless, desperately grasping onto his big brother’s hand like a lifeline fell onto the grainy sidewalk and watched his only support crutch walk away without looking back. He could not cry, he could not show weakness, yet he could not get up on his own either, left to rot and slowly melt into the pavement beneath.
He knew he had to be mature. To grow up one day. Let go of Lucky who did not deserve to have been forced to play parent for so many years. Let him lead his own life after he’d already shaped so much of himself to accommodate Colt's unseemly form. But he didn’t feel ready. Despite his desperate, unfair battle against his own feelings and his tormentor’s allegations, Colt knew deep down he was still just a silly, desperate child, incapable of fending for himself in the real world just as they had suspected all along.
He felt a hot, fat tear rolling down his cheek before he quickly rubbed it away with unwarranted force. Impulsively confessing something ridiculous to his best friend was one thing but letting him see him cry? Colt couldn’t handle that level of embarrassment. He’d already wallowed in self-pity in front of other people enough for his liking.
Before Lefty could form a response, Colt tossed the remains of his cigarette down into the sand below them, burying it with the tip of his shoe and standing up abruptly, not regarding his friend with the slightest of glances.
“I’m okay though, don’t worry ‘bout me man, ‘s just the usual. At least he’ll be havin’ fun. Let’s go back to school, I’ll mope ‘round a bit and then I’ll be good.” Colt began moving towards the exit of the playground, a faux smile plastered over his features. He knew it showed in his eyes which were still as mournful as before and although he realised that Lefty was not dumb enough to believe him, he’d hoped he was negligent enough to drop it.
The other Greaser had different plans, however.
While Lefty would not argue with the others saying he had the emotional intelligence of a fruitfly, he also considered it one of his greatest weaknesses and felt nothing was worse than when he wanted to comfort a friend and failed miserably due to his attitude of actions over words. His own upbringing and parents did not grant him much opportunity to develop a sense of maturity required to handle such intense situations and he fumbled with his words, stumbling and landing head first before he could even attempt to console the other person, which had ironically happened with Colt more times than he could count. The artistic Greaser was much more mature in that sense yet never judged him for his inadequacy.
Today was different.
Lefty caught up with Colt, placing a tentative hand on his leather-covered back, his long hair just barely tickling his fingertips as the other came to a half, short of bending down to the hole in the fence.
“‘S that why you’ve been so depressed these past couple ‘a days? ‘Cause Lucky ain’t gonna be here today fer you today?” Lefty inquired carefully, not a drop of judgement in his voice.
Colt spared him a measured glance, insecurity clouding his judgement as he convinced himself he saw humour within the icy gaze of his friend. He shrugged off his hand.
“I know it’s fuckin’ ridiculous and childish of me, okay. Let’s just move on and go back ta class.”
Lefty, indignant, stopped the advancing boy in his tracks with his elevated tone.
“Dude, FUCK class.” He spun Colt around to face him directly without a hint of hesitation “You need to hear this right now, you ain’t ridiculous, you ain’t childish, and ya certainly don’t gotta force yaself to be okay today. I’m not gonna sit here ‘n listen to ya talk about my friend like that.”
Both held uncertain breaths, not looking away from each other, one set of steel meeting sky blue in a desperate attempt at reading the other’s mind, hoping to make the message stick. Lefty knew deep down that if he let his friend go, he’d never let himself live that fact down. He clicked his tongue and continued, struggling to think of the right way to articulate his thoughts.
“It fuckin’ sucks, that you’se breakin’ a tradition like that. I know yer bro means the world to ya and nothin’ will ever replace him. But… you ain’t alone, with or without Luck. Maybe we don’t tell ya enough but you got the guys, you got me, I’m not gonna let you forget.” Lefty felt the corner of his own mouth twitch upward for a moment “Matter of fact, since you’se not busy with Lucky, I’m takin’ you out, gettin’ yer mind off it all-”
Colt attempted to butt in, shaking his head adamantly, a horrified blush gradually spreading across his features. “I couldn’t make you do that! You don’t gotta-”
“But I wanna!” Interjected Lefty, growing giddy by the second “Man, I want you to be happy. I want you to see you’se not alone. And I wanna hang out!” He assured, smiling with his teeth now.
“We can do whatever you want man, throw firecrackers at the coppers, ride ‘round the town, stay out ‘n sleep outside somewhere like bums. Hell, we can even go visit yer parents together… if you’se good on that…” Now was Lefty’s turn to smooth his hand over his pomp nervously, hoping he didn’t cross a boundary.
A quick glance upon Colt’s awestruck expression told him all he needed to know.
“Just… don’t isolate yerself from me, Colt. I’d rather see you bawl yer eyes out than have’ta wonder what’s got you down in the dumps. Lucky’s not the only one who cares about ya you know.”
He did know now.
It took a moment for Colt to collect himself after such an outburst from his usually humorous and emotionally unavailable best friend. The shaking in his limbs subsided as he carefully considered Lefty’s spontaneous stream of consciousness, gratitude clouding the sheer awkwardness of the moment and the embarrassment he felt at his impromptu venting session. While he still missed Lucky and felt lost without him by his side, he could now approach the situation with more assurance, his dearest companion in clear support even through his withdrawal and depressing attitude.
Therefore, after exhaling deeply, his gaze traversed over to his friends wherein he nodded, more enthusiastically than he thought possible mere hours before, agreeing to Lefty’s primitive yet endearing idea of consolation.
The rest of the day, albeit undeniably sombre and glum, was spent by the two best friends on their feet, causing unwarranted mischief to their beloved neighbours, wandering aimlessly and basking in each other’s presence. They did, to Colt’s alleviation and Lefty amazement, visit the marble headstone of Mr. and Mrs. De Luca and though Lefty’s presence in Lucky’s place was strange at first, it felt natural, as the chainsmoker encouraged him to retell tales of their childhood afore the couple’s passing, a request with which he complied enthusiastically.
Colt felt no need to remark that most of them he'd only learned from his brother.
Hours later and much after curfew, Colt and Lefty laid on a patch of desolate green grass outside of the dirt path surrounding New Coventry. Fully clothed, not caring whether the blades stained their garments green, they conversed calmly, though the events of the day were starting to take a toll on their energy levels. Conversation drifted lazily, their faces only illuminated by the wide array of stars visible to the naked eye outside of their polluted neighbourhood and the glow of the moon bestowing upon them the ability to look each other in the eye from time to time, snickering at one another’s drained expressions.
From where he resided, Colt was sure that through squinted eyes he could see his mom and dad smiling down on him from up above, telling him it was all going to be okay.
He hoped Lucky saw that too, wherever he was.
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the-family-business-83 · 2 years ago
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Unexpected Calling – Part I
Part 1 | Masterlist WIP
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Fandom: Marvel
Prompt: A world class contract killer finds an envelope at his dead drop. Inside are $23.42 in short change and a letter handwritten by a 9-year old girl.
Type: Series
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x F!Reader's daughter (platonic obviously), Bucky Barnes x F!Reader
Genre: fluff, action, slight angst, might get smutty but idk yet
Warnings: Be prepared for some adult language! Nothing too crazy in this first part though, we're just getting started so that's my only warning for now.
Word count: 1.6k
Send me an ask to let me know if you wanna be added to/removed from the taglist!!
This post was Beta'd by @mariekoukie6661. Thanks a million!
A/N: Thought I'd throw my hand at a prompted fic! Hope you guys like it, I'll add a chapter directory and update as needed as the next parts are posted. So stay tuned 👀 Text dividers made by @firefly-graphics <3
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Every morning is always the same when you're paid to kill. He'd been trying to be better about the whole actual killing part lately, but that didn't change his morning routine very much. He woke up to the sound of his alarm clock going off—yes, he still used one. If you asked for his reasoning, he'd tell you it's because it's less complicated and you can always count on it to work because it simply stayed plugged into the wall; in the event that the power went out? It had batteries for backup power, and you can't find that kind of peace of mind with just the alarms on your phone. He's still an old soul, sue him. He woke up at 6:45 am, on the dot, every morning without fail that way so it was rather effective.
After the blaring sound of his trusty alarm clock came the process of forcing himself out of bed and cleaning up for the day; shaving if necessary, freshening up, getting dressed, the works. This was generally when he'd change his appearance should the need arise, as well. But he didn't need to do that this morning and so he flicked the light to the bathroom off as he left the room when he was finished, heading out to his kitchen thereafter. The next step? Food. It was always 7 am sharp by the time he got done with his wakeup process, the only time that changed being when he added any extra steps in the bathroom. And breakfast was always simple: a cup of hot black coffee, sliced avocado, and bread toasted to perfection with an egg over medium to be dipped in. And it never failed to be a pleasant way to start his morning, usually followed closely after by a session of watching the morning news. He found it a good way to see what was going on in the area and across the country so he could plan accordingly.
If he didn't have a job, which by chance was the case today, he'd generally find any sort of quiet way to spend the rest of his morning; reading a book, cleaning up all his weapons, or a walk in the park if he felt like it. Today, he felt like it. And it was mostly peaceful, if you excluded the grating sound of car horns, tires squealing, and buses chuffing past. And of course, if you chose to ignore the rumbling from the subway, the people shouting either in their urgency to get to work or just simply because they were an ass, then it was really utterly plain and quiet to walk through Central Park. By this point Bucky had truly gotten used to it. He supposed in some ways it wasn't too much different from his home in the past. But that didn't mean he liked to spend too much time there anyway. So long as he got out and went back home just in time, he could skip the gradeschoolers and dog walkers that came around for the afternoon.
There had been nothing unusual about his day so far, and he liked that. He liked the rhythm of it all, and how it always went according to his carefully curated schedule. He began the process of unlocking his apartment door after making his way up to his floor, and pushed it open to take a step inside. Crunch.
What the helll...?
Bucky frowned as, seemingly, something sat under his boot and crinkled where he'd stepped, making the same sound again as he carefully pried his foot off. The poor, crisply folded, paper envelope that had earlier been slotted through his dead-drop, suffered a dirt-covered footprint but aside from that, it seemed harmless and intact as he picked it up to inspect it. A curious thing to find when you hardly get mail aside from the bills. What was even more curious was the contents within it, feeling a bit lumpy and—quite frankly—heavy for a letter-sized envelope. He closed the door behind himself with one hand, locking it once again out of habit while the other kept hold of the envelope. Moments later he flicked out a switchblade to slice it open revealing not only a handwritten letter but also $23.42.....Exactly. All in small change.
It was quite honestly the oddest thing he'd seen or received to date, and that was including the number of quite-literal backstabs he'd received, numerous other maiming injuries, and the odd encounters he’d had with a talking raccoon, tree, and robot...man…thing. To name a few. That was also including the number of odd jobs he'd been offered and peculiar payment methods he'd been given. Never had he come across such a specific payment with a letter that….upon further inspection….looked as though its penman couldn't be much older than 9 years old, at most.
'Dear mister,
My name is Rosie Jones. I am 9 yeers old. My mommy says you're vary good at helping people. Well, I need your help. Mommy also said you like to be paid for helping, so I broke my piggy bank open so you wood help us. Mommy doesn't know yet thoe, so please don't tell her.
My mommy dissuhpeered disappeered last night. She told me to hide and I did but now I can't find her and so I need your help mister becuz you're really good at finding people too, mommy said so. Please please help me find my mommy, I don't know what to do mister.
– Rosie'
"You've gotta be shitting me." He muttered to himself. The first question Bucky had, quite honestly, was how did this little girl even know who he was? Or where he lived? Not many people did, if any, truth be told. If they did? They were usually dead within minutes. It was one of many reasons that kept his renowned status intact. But here he was, sitting at his own table, with proof that some little girl knew both of those things. Frowning down at the paper and envelope of change, the assassin ran his hand back through his dark brown hair momentarily, processing what he'd just read. On one hand, it could be an elaborate trap. By all rights he had to assume it, considering the nature of the letter and the fact that a little girl of all people had written it. But on the other hand, there was a certain dedication there that he simply couldn't ignore. And some part of him couldn't help but at least look into it. So moments later, the man was pulling out his laptop and began searching for answers, anything that could give this little girl's story any sort of credit.
Much to his surprise? It checked out. Every last bit of it. There was a mother, connected to the Rosie Jones in question, who had gone missing under rather mysterious circumstances. "I'll be damned, mystery kiddo."
'Y/N Jones, aged 37, a single mother, was nowhere to be found the next morning after reports came in that a struggle and silenced gunshots were heard from the house that night.'
He probably could have gotten away with just keeping the money and letting it go. It was some little kid somewhere hoping for someone to hear her plea, he could get away with it. But it was that name…. he'd seen it before, he knew he had. In all fairness though, he really only remembered faces exceptionally well. Names didn't matter in the long run, names didn't tell him who he was shooting within a crowd of people. So why did it keep nagging at the back of his mind?...
Spoiler alert: he shouldn't have went digging. He should have just left it alone. But he had always been a curious mind and he was nothing if not thorough on top of that. Popping open the top to his bottle of whiskey, Bucky carefully poured out a favorable portion into a glass tumbler, before letting it down onto the counter as he heard an agreeable noise coming from his laptop to signal it had finished its task. Glancing over his shoulder, he sipped on his drink as he made his way back over to the table, having waited for what seemed like an hour to get the information he wanted. And the minute he looked at the screen was the very same minute he regretted it.
He knew that face.
He knew it like the back of his hand almost, he knew it the same way he knew the taste of bourbon or the sound of a .22 magnum. That was the face of Y/N Y/L/N and it was a face he had been trying to forget for years now. But most of all he knew it was a mistake to have even touched this with a ten-foot pole. Because now he had a target, he knew what the target looked like, and he had been paid in- well, maybe not-so-full, but in 9-year-old currency $23.42 was basically a million dollars considering it was all her savings.
In short?
He had to do it now.
He knew that. And it damn near made him groan at the prospect. Because this was going to be a long-ass job, and if he was going to ensure the rescue of that little girl's mother, then he needed to ensure that child's safety. The less leverage the 'enemy' had, the easier his job was. So as he sighed out, "Damnitall, this better be fuckin worth it kid," the hundred year old assassin finished off his drink and went about packing his things to take on a job that he never asked for, but knew damn well he was stuck with until it was over.
But at least if he had to go through with this, he was going to be damn sure he did it right, that was for sure.
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Taglist: If you weren't tagged it's because I couldn't get it to tag you or I didn't know which account was yours – @aingealcethlenn @deaan @idabbleincrazy @impala-1979 @kadet-jb @myinconnelly2 @princessmisery666 @rosedemica @tvdspngirl314 @darsynia @buckys-zomdoll @cookingglitterfairy @emilyshurley @fictionalabyss @jotink78 @mariekoukie6661 @manawhaat @mishkatelwarriorgoddess @scarletwinchester84 @sorenmarie87 @until-theend-oftheline @starryeyes2000 @thing-you-do-with-that-thing @betweengalaxies2 @focusonspn
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ghost-proofbaby · 2 years ago
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Howdy! I woke up and chose violence!
catastrophic blues, eddie munson, with the dialogue prompts of "holy shit, that's a lot of blood..." and "stay with me... please." :)
Sorry in advance everyone, because I truly hope you catch onto which specific scene I'm hoping you write lmao. Do your worst.
checkmate, nonnie. you said do my worst, and this? this... is my worst. because i refuse to write eddie actually dying haha.
fair warning - if you have not read my fic 'the shire is burning' or the first chapter of 'so mordor it is', this won't make much sense to you/probably won't affect you like it did me. the oc here is willow from that series.
and now, a fair warning to those of you who have read - this is not canon. this is not even in the realm of canon. this is not an excerpt from that fic and this will not be a scene in that fic. i repeat - this is not canon. but an awful part of me has always wanted to write this scene with willow inserted so.... idk. i'm stupid. i'm also saying sorry because... well, bleh. at least i got it out of my system, yeah? also, i may or not be running on spite from that anon, hence me dragging eddie and willow onto this hellsite. so if that anon is reading - this is my big middle finger to you of sorts. (i already thought of this before the celebration, and i also considered this scenario when i first got the request before the slew of hateful anons. but.. yeah)
WARNINGS: MAIN CHARACTER DEATH (OC, NOT EDDIE), descriptions of blood and extreme violence, severe angst and absolutely no comfort. seriously. this is heavy, 3k words heavy. if it's not for you, it's not for you. that's okay.
which is why if you'd rather not read this scenario, i have written a shorter and less intense reply to this request that you can find here.
alright. sorry. rant over and warnings over. please take the warnings serious.
1k celebration - come party with me! (requests are not normally this sad unless angst is requested, i swear. we actually were having fun over here.)
───────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────────
It wasn’t supposed to go this way.
There had been a plan. There had been clear instructions. The three of them were to distract the bats, capture their attention long enough for the others to follow through with their missions, and then get the Hell out of there. 
They weren’t supposed to play heroes. Not today. 
There is no shame in running.
So why wasn’t he running?
Dustin had already pulled himself up through the gate, toppling to safety on the other side, back in their world. He’s waiting expectantly for the two of them with wide eyes and shaking breaths from adrenaline. 
She’s already halfway up the rope when it hits her. The wave of deja vu, the wave of familiarity. 
She’s been here before. 
Eddie still stands beneath her, hands anxiously pressed into her thighs as she dangles against the make-shift rope, encouraging her to hurry. Her arms are burning, muscles shaking with strain. If she doesn’t make quick of lurching through, her body is sure to give out and lose strength. 
“Why did you stop? C’mon!” Eddie gives another shove to her thighs. His hands are sure to leave bruises at this point. 
She’s been here before. 
Her dreams. Her nightmares. Her visions. She’s been here before, hanging onto the sheets and looking down at her beautiful boy beneath her. She’s been here before, throwing herself back through a gate to the background symphony of screeching creatures trying to tear their way into a trailer that is a distorted mirror image of one she’s grown to call a second home over the last several months. Nearly a year now. 
“Red!” Eddie snaps as a bang sounds somewhere in the trailer, “Go.”
His voice is strained, tight and desperate and terrified. That’s all they’ve felt this week: fear. Unbridled fear that has chilled her to her bones without relent. 
None of that fear has penetrated through her chest quite as painfully as the one that strikes her now. She’s been here before, and this is not how it is supposed to go. 
She finally drops from the rope, losing her grip and falling backwards. He’s quick to press his palms into her shoulder blades to keep her upright as she gets lucky, landing on her feet, chest heaving as her muscles now scream with relief.
“Willow Victoria Jenkins, get up that fucking rope or I’m dragging you up there myself-”
“You go first,” she begs, cutting him off effectively, “Go before me. Now.” 
She’s been here before. 
“What?” his eyebrows furrow, chest heaving as he keeps glancing over his shoulder, over to the poorly boarded up door, “No, I- what? No, I’ll go after you-”
“Eddie, climb that rope before me or, with God as my witness, I won’t so much as touch that thing again-” at her words, he’s shaking his head furiously, thrusting the sheets back into her hands, but she only lifts them up and steps away to emphasize her point, “No. Go, now.” 
If she goes up the rope before him, he won’t follow her. She can’t let him do that.
There is no shame in running. 
He was an idiot. An idiot who couldn’t take his own advice. She should have known better — she did know better.
“Red, I’m not going without you-“
“I’ll be right behind you.”
“Then why not go before me? Please, I’m begging you,” another bang, and they both jump. It’s then that he looks into her eyes, and he sees it. That fear digging its claws into her. That memory of a nightmare she can’t let come true. The realization settles heavily across his face, “You don’t trust me.”
“It’s not that-”
“You don’t trust that I’ll follow you up the rope.” 
She doesn’t know what he wants her to say. It’s not a matter of trust; it’s a matter of knowing he won’t follow her. 
The tears that burn her eyes must be enough to convince him that she has her reasons, that it goes beyond something petty like that, because he lays his armor down instantly. His shoulders sink, the corners of his mouth turn downward, and his eyes close in defeat as he sighs, “Fine.” 
He’s faster than her when he has his hold on the rope, tugging himself up with significantly less effort. He doesn’t look back at her to make sure she’s already reaching to follow him – he trusts her. 
It wasn’t supposed to happen like this, but she should know better.
She has every intention to follow him, the same faith placed in him that she’s had since day one, back in trivial times of pretend and make believe. When she had faith he was the right fake boyfriend. When she had faith he’d make a good friend by the end of it all. When she had faith that her path was always supposed to cross with 
Her hands have barely curled around the worn sheets, not quite as soft as the ones she’s slept in time after time due to the caking debris from this world, when she gets it.
Watching him in her nightmare let go of the rope had infuriated her. It had torn her clean in two, watching as he’d severed their connection and sent them down different paths. She didn’t know how he did it so easily – how he left her so easily.
She knows now.
The fear has subsided as she watches him land onto the mattress on the other side and watches Dustin rush to grab him eagerly. He’s safe. He’s okay. 
But the bats are still vicious against the trailer. She can hear them breach his bedroom down the hall. 
They don’t have a way to close the gate. Not yet. 
She gets it. If she follows them, if she doesn’t continue to serve as a distraction, they’ll follow them into the real world. All her efforts and all her love, all her care and all her months spent getting to know the two boys on the other side will be in vain. 
There are some stories in which the endings never change. You can shift the circumstances, you can swap pawns, but they will always end the same. Just because she had spared Eddie from the doomed fate of her dream doesn’t mean she’s spared them all. Someone still has to play the role of the distraction. 
Her heart is beating in her ears, and she’s glad for it so she can’t hear Dustin or Eddie’s screams as she grabs one of their discarded weapons and slices at their rope.
Severs the ties. Severs herself from Eddie. Severs herself from all that she cares for, in order to save it.
The blame that had twisted in her gut at him before dissipates. There’s no longer a question of if she’d do the same for him if the roles were reversed; they stand in opposing positions now, and she is doing as he had. 
She won’t look up at them once she does it. Unlike Eddie in her dream, she won’t face the reality of her decision. 
The sheets seemingly fall in slow motion into a crumpled pile. An edge of them falls over her sneakers. 
She’s never been here before, but she knows what she has to do. 
“Red!” 
She’s never heard his voice like that before, and she can’t face him. She can’t face the look she knows he wears, the broken expression and the twist of pain, the sheer panic as the last eight months flashes before his eyes. She can’t let the knife of it drive into her chest, because if she does, she won’t go through with it. If she doesn’t go through with it, they all die. 
“Willow, what are you doing?” Dustin’s broken voice comes through next, and it hurts as much as Eddie’s shaken tone. 
Dustin has Eddie. If she plays her cards right, he’ll have Eddie, and Steve, and Robin. He’ll have Max. He’ll be alright. 
She only responds once she’s grabbed the shield of nails that Eddie had tossed aside, echoing words that have haunted her since she first watched them fall from Eddie’s lips in the nightmare.
“Buying more time.” 
It’s only then that she risks looking up to the boys, taking one final glance at the two of them. 
Dustin Henderson, a young boy who had continued to exceed her expectations at every turn, who she would die to protect from any more harm. 
Eddie Munson, the boy she loves. The boy she would die in the place of. 
She hardly catches sight of his face before he’s a flurry on the other side, rushing to find a way to get to her, to get her back the same way she had rushed to do in the vision. But in that brief second, she locks his details to memory one last time. The soft pink of his lips, the soft curve of his nose, the freckle below his right eye. Details she isn’t sure she can catch sight of in full focus with the distance between them and the fleeting moment, but ones she’s seen enough times to play them like a movie behind her eyelids. Her boy. The one she’s leaving her heart with as she turns and lets the story continue to play out. 
She has an advantage Eddie didn’t. She knows where the holes in the road will be as she hops onto the abandoned bike and pedals so hard that her entire body is lit aflame. The scream of the bats are on her back, but she still misses the hole that had sent him flying in her dream. She makes it several paces farther, and for a moment, she thinks that she’ll make it far enough that the ending might change. 
She’s a fool. She supposed she picked that up from Eddie.
There’s a vine, a part of the hivemind, she swears she will miss on her current path. But then, it’s as if it reaches out and grips the front wheel of the bike, latching on with intent as it sends her flying and toppling into dirt and gravel. Her knees are now scraped, and if she survives this, she knows that bruises will be blooming across her torso. 
She can’t stop now. She has to get up, has to try and run as she balances the shield and spear. If she stops now, she won’t change the ending. 
None of it matters. It never did. 
The bats still catch up with her. The spear and the shield are still useless against their advances. And screams, human screams, still echo through the Upside Down as a body is pulled into a cloud of dust.
This time the body is not Eddie’s. It’s Willow’s. 
She can’t think through the pain as they tear through her clothes, her skin, seemingly her bones. All she can do is scream herself hoarse and fling herself about. 
When it’s over, when the bats begin to drop one by one in the tell-tale sign that her friends have won, she can’t move. She’s motionless on the ground and each breath is ragged, wet with blood and gasping shallowness. 
She hears Eddie before she sees him. 
“Willow,” he sobs out, collapsing to his knees at her side as his hands begin to flit over her wounds, “No, no, no.” 
It was always going to end like this, wasn’t it? 
“Please, please, fuck-” he gasps out as his hands turn crimson with her blood.
A distorted mirror image to her dream. 
She can see the freckle now that he’s closer. She focuses on it, unable to feel the warmth from his palms through the chill. 
His hands still work in a useless effort. She can hardly decipher the pressure he applies to a particularly deep wound as she watches tears begin to fall. Shining tears, forming as constellations in his eyelashes before they become falling stars across his cheeks. 
“I- No-” he stutters, unable to form a sentence, “You said you were going to follow me. You… You said-” 
She catches sight of his hands. As red with her blood as hers had been with his in her nightmare. 
If it were any other circumstances, if she didn’t know the ending, she would have tried to comfort him. But her head is swimming and she’s lost all feeling in her torso now. 
All she can muster out is, “Holy shit,” a shattering gasp fills her pause, “That’s… that’s a lot of blood.” 
He doesn’t laugh. He doesn’t smile. There is no joking in a time like this. He just continues meaningless efforts through his cries. 
She hadn’t even heard Dustin following him. When the boy is on her opposite side, speechless, trembling, she barely notices the movement. 
“Willow…” Dustin whispers, hands reaching to join Eddie’s before he thinks better and retracts them, “I…”
“Henderson,” Eddie is a crazed man as he suddenly rips the bandana off from his head, thrusting it to the younger boy, “Wrap her leg in this now.”
And Dustin doesn’t have to be told twice, not when Eddie is the way he is now. Her blood is now on the boy’s hands as well. 
“I’m sorry,” she finally whispers, feeling blood trickle out the corner of her mouth. She doesn’t even feel when Dustin tightens the make-shift tourniquet on her. 
It wasn’t supposed to go this way. But she had no choice. 
“Don’t be sorry, stay alive,” Eddie snaps at her, not looking at her. It kills her. Ironically, more than the wounds. 
A sharp pain shoots through her as he tries to apply pressure to one of her chest wounds. He’s beginning to mutter to himself, breaking hysterical now. 
“I can fix this,” he repeats to himself on loop. Dustin only stares, “I can fix this. I can fix this. I can fix-”
“Eddie, please look at me,” she pleads with him. A dying wish he can’t deny her. 
Big, brown eyes look into hers. A million unspoken words and fading moments. And all she can think is she’s glad it’s her and not him. 
So she tells him as much, “I’m sorry. I-If it wasn���t… If it wasn’t me… It w-would have been you. And I- I couldn’t, I couldn’t…” 
I couldn’t watch you die. Not again. Not for real, this time. 
He immediately knows. He deflates, but he knows. She knew what was going to happen when she cut the rope. She knew how it ended. 
His anger is kept beneath the surface, because they both know if this is the last moments between them, he doesn’t want to spend them angry with her. Angry for her doing for him as he would for her. 
“You knew,” if it weren’t for the tears still streaking his face, the words would have come out flatly, “You fucking knew. You… you idiot… You…” 
“I’m sorry,” she repeats herself. Her tongue peeks out to swipe across her lips, and all she tastes is copper, “I love you.” 
She has to say it now. She has to make it be know to make up for all the times she bit her tongue, all the times she waited. Thinking they had more time, thinking she’d have a lifetime to remind him of it. 
They don’t have any more time. The hourglass is nearly empty. 
Those three words break him, and she can make out his shoulders shaking as her vision starts to blur. 
“I love you,” he returns, the haunting voice of a desperate man, “I fucking love you. Stay with me, please.” 
She wants to. God, she wants to. His arms wrap around her and he tugs her into his lap, beginning to simply cradle her, his efforts finally surrendered. 
Dustin finally speaks up, “W-We can still get her to a hospital. We can take her back to the gate. We can get her to the hospital, and they’ll help her. They’ll save her. It’ll be fine. It- It has to be fine.” 
It won’t be fine. She knows it, but she finds herself too weak to tell Dustin that.
Even if she had the strength she wouldn’t be able to. 
“Re-” Eddie starts, abruptly cutting himself off as if he realizes that right now, while she’s still with him, the last thing he wants to waste precious breaths on is a nickname. She wants to insist he call hers it, though, as it helps spread warmth through her bones as it always had. She loves when he calls her that. She always did, even when she would fight him on it.
 “Willow,” he finally corrects himself. She wishes she could feel his thumb swiping at her cheek, slow and surely gentle, soft as it always had been when it came to her, “Please, baby, stay with me.” 
More words might have been exchanged between Dustin and Eddie, but Willow can’t hear them anymore. 
She stares at his face, at the freckle. At the cheeks and lips she had kissed countless times. At the eyes she had seen entire undiscovered universes countless times.
It was worth it, she decided. It all was worth it to have known and to have loved Eddie Munson. 
He had once told her that to die at her hand, to die from and to die for her, would be a heavenly way to go. For her to be the death of him was a way he’d be proud to go. 
He was right, she thinks, fading, fading, fading. What a heavenly way to die. 
Eddie Munson’s face is the last one that Willow Jenkins sees.
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spextkrr · 2 years ago
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hey it me again and y'know what I feel like the Merlin fandom is missing? Fics where instead of Merlin being the clingy and paranoid one after Arthur returning, Arthur himself is a giant clusterfuck of paranoia and confusion. Terrified down to his very core.
Give me Arthur waking up in a cold sweat, blindly searching for a lamp to switch on after having a nightmare, (Probably a reoccurring nightmare of being back in Avalon.) desperately sucking in deep breaths to remind himself that he's back, and not in that damned lake again. Alive, breathing, not in a weird trance of conciousness. Give me Merlin, who would hold him close after these nightmares, and reassure him gently, he'll never see that lake again. He's back, and for good.
Give me Arthur actively using Merlin's heartbeat as a grounding tool, for whenever his mind gets the best of him. The sturdy pulse cancelling out the mind numbing and sensory deprived abyss of the water.
Give me Arthur sometimes refusing to go anywhere alone, terrified that he'll be wounded again and fade back to the inky black abyss of Avalon.
Give me Arthur not being very easily trusting, as the last person he trusted was the death of him. Give me Arthur retreating into his mind, hiding from the world.
Give me Arthur being terribly disoriented, a mess of dissociation and paranoia. Confusing the past with the present, fiction with reality. Give me Arthur being lost in life.
Give me Arthur, suffering horrible memories and flashbacks of his death, sometimes locking himself in the bathroom of their flat for hours, simply staring at the light scar on his stomach, where the powerful blade once struck him, ending his life, wondering if this is simply a version of heaven or a dream of some sort.
Give me Arthur being terrified of water, scared to submerge himself in any depth, afraid he'll be dragged back down and held captive once more. It was a miracle he rose in the first place, and if he fell again, who's to say he would stand back up?
Give me Arthur being terrified of conflict, afraid that aggression will lead to violence, and he'll be lost again. Give me Arthur flinching in the presence of a knife, even a simple butter knife.
Give me a completely dysfunctional Arthur. Give me an endlessly understanding and empathetic Merlin, who is always there whenever Arthur needs him, or anything for that matter.
Give me confused and helpless Arthur.
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merriconstance · 3 years ago
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owie
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itsdanii · 4 years ago
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Kyahhh your rejecting you and regretting series is just so freaking good . Uhmmm idk if you are taking requests right now but can I please request for Ushijima and Kita?Thank you so much!
Rejecting you and regretting it pt. 4
one | two | three | four
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Hey, bub. I'm so glad to hear that you've been enjoying my works. Here's your request for the part 4 and final (as of now) part of the rejecting and regretting you series. Have a good day and stay hydrated! ♥️
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genre: angst to fluff
warnings: semi-rude behavior (resolved), no cursing in this one because these men drink their respect women juice daily
ft. ushijima wakatoshi, kita shinsuke
title says it all
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Kita Shinsuke
Kita is your childhood friend
The moment the two of you were introduced to each other by your grandmothers, you instantly clicked
Same as through with him, you loved spending your time being productive and following a certain routine so it's no question that as you both grew up, you started gaining romantic feelings towards him
You've been thinking of confessing but never really had the chance because he was always busy with volleyball practice
So when you finally managed to get some alone time, you didn't hesitate to voice out your feelings, not knowing that the answer you're hoping for isn't the answer you're going to get
"You're staring again."
You snapped out of your thoughts when Kita stopped infront of you, his eyebrows furrowing as he studied your face.
"Are you alright?"
"Oh, uh, yes! I'm sorry. I was just thinking," you answered sheepishly while scratching the back of your head.
You mentally cursed yourself for spacing out on him. This is the only chance you're getting and you can't afford to waste it.
"About what?" Shinsuke asked as you both continued your walk on the way home since you only live apart each other. Plus, his grandma had always told him to never let you walk home alone especially at night.
"Huh?"
"You said you were thinking. About what?" Shinsuke gently tugged at the sleeve of your jacket, changing your positions so that he was closer to the road than you are.
You felt yourself blushing at the small gesture and looked at his hand that was still holding your jacket.
You swallowed the lump forming inside your throat and stopped walking, the act stopping Kita as well due to him holding you.
Kita looked at you worriedly and placed both hands on your shoulders, his head dipping slightly to get a closer look at your face. "Are you oka-"
"You," you answered without focusing your gaze to him. "I've been thinking about you."
When you felt him taking his hands off your shoulders, you immediately looked up. "Sorry, did I make you uncomfortable?"
The look he had is something you can't decipher but if you were to analyze it based on what you can see, it's a look you never wanted to see again.
Silence reigned the two of you, eyes staring at each other as if you're both trying to figure out what the other was thinking.
"No," Kita said, breaking the silence. "But it's best if we don't discuss the issue any further."
At that, he faced forward and continued walking as if nothing happened but as you stared at his back, you realized that somehow, he knew what you were trying to imply.
And the sad part is that he chose to ignore it and act unbothered as if he didn't just indirectly broke your heart.
Once you reached your destination, you faced him with an anxious smile and Kita didn't fail to notice this, as well as your habit of shifting from foot to foot whenever you wanted to say something.
"I like you, Shin," you blurted out nervously, your heart beating erratically and your palms becoming sweaty. "I don't know when it started but suddenly, I just woke up and realized that what I'm feeling towards you is no longer within the range of friendship. It's something more and I just wanted to let you know."
"I am well aware of that but I'm sorry, y/n. I can't return your feelings."
You bit your lower lip to hold in your tears and as much as you wanted to shout at him to accept your confession, you can't just force someone to love you back because it doesn’t work that way.
"Geez, can't you even say it gently?" you said with a forced chuckle. "Don't worry, I won't hold any grudges."
You let out a sigh before looking up at him and Kita was surprised to see that there are no traces of anger. He expected you to lash out but it seemed like he was wrong.
"I'll see you tomorrow then. Don't overwork yourself, okay?" With that, you stood on your tiptoes and pressed a kiss on his cheek before turning around to cross the road.
Kita could only stare at you as he watched you enter your household, your figure vanishing from his sight as the door finally closed.
Kita is a practical man.
He knows how to separate what is right from what is wrong.
Because of this, people often see him as someone who's perfect, sometimes even being compared to a robot due to his nature. But Kita is far from perfect, and he knew that.
Because as he laid in his bed that night, he realized that he just made a big, wrong decision, and he had nobody but himself to blame.
-
Kita didn't know if he should be happy or not. Actually, he should be happy. After all, he just rejected you and still, here you are, walking beside him as you made your way to school.
He kept glancing at you, observing wether you were pretending or not but he knew that it isn't in your nature to be a pretentious person. You've always worn your emotions on your sleeve which made it too easy for people to read you.
"Ah, Shin. You don't have to walk me home later," you said with a sheepish smile. "My friend is actually going to walk me home so.."
"Alright. Be sure to send me a message when you're on the way home." Despite how 'normal' it sounded, Kita was actually feeling something unpleasant inside him. It was a feeling he was well aware of but had never experienced himself.
The day progressed fast. One moment, he was entering his first class and the next, he's already checking wether all the sports equipment were put back in their proper places.
As he walked out of the gym, Kita instinctively brought out his phone to check for any messages, yours to be specific.
"Ya alright, Kita-san?" came Atsumu.
Kita simply nodded and glanced at his phone again before keeping it, disappointment filling him as he realized that you're not planning to message him at all.
Without you to walk home with, Kita decided to join his team mates, yet despite the noise his team naturally carried, Kita's mind was still preoccupied.
He thought of how you must be doing or if you arrived home safely. He thought of how different the things would've turned out if he hadn't rejected you.
He thought of you.
"Isn't that y/n-san?"
Kita's attention immediately went back to Earth, his eyes following the direction Atsumu was pointing at and just like he said, you were indeed at the other side of the road, walking alone while hugging yourself as you shivered ever so slightly.
Without any words, Kita headed towards your direction and his team mates knew better than to interfere. After all, they knew their captain well. It wasn't that hard to notice how off he was today.
"I thought I told you to message me."
You gasped as Kita suddenly appeared beside you, draping his jacket over your shoulder which immediately surrounded you with his familiar scent.
"Sorry, I forgot," you said while tugging at the end of his jacket sleeves.
"Mhm, and you also said that your friend is going to walk you home yet I don't see anyone beside you." Kita said with a serious tone.
"About that..." You scratched the back of your head as you tried to think of any excuses but you knew that lying would be pointless.
"What if someone kidnapped you? Or worse, took advantage of you? You know I don't like you walking alone especially when the sun had already set yet you still did it. Why did you lie?"
You felt like a child being scolded by your mother but instead of taking it the wrong way, you knew that Kita was only looking out for you. It was just ironic that he broke your heart yet still showed his deep concern for your being.
"It's because I didn't want to make you uncomfortable," you finally admitted. "I just confessed to you yesterday and I thought thay maybe I might make you uncomfortable if I kept sticking beside you. I didn't want to be an inconvenience."
"What are you talking about?" Kita stopped walking and turned towards you. "You were never an inconvenience and will never be one."
"Sorry, Shin."
"No. I should be the one to apologize. I made a very rash decision yesterday and ended up rejecting you. I thought that having romantic feelings towards someone would just be a waste of time but I came to realize that it isn't a waste of time if its with you," Kita said with a gentle look on his face.
You didn't speak for a few seconds and just let his words sink in, a feeling of hope igniting inside you when you realized what he was trying to say. "Do you mean that?" you asked hopefully.
"Have I ever lied to you?" Seeing you shake your head no, Kita leaned in to press his forehead against yours. "I like you, y/n."
You felt your heart beat picking up with those simple words and without waiting for anything else, you pressed your lips against his.
Ushijima Wakatoshi
Being the cousin of Tendou Satori had its perks
And one of those perks is the opportunity to see Ushijima everyday
You are only a year younger than them yet despite that, you get along with the team very well
After all, it had been a part of your daily routine to always visit the school's gym
What you didn't expect, however, was to fall for a certain captain
And you, being one of the most open and honest person, confessed the moment you realized your feelings towards him
And despite being turned down several times already, you still persisted, claiming that you'll do everything to make him fall for you
But sometimes, no matter how hard you try, it just isn't enough
"Where's 'Toshi?" you asked Satori when you entered the gym, flashing a small smile to the others before sitting down on an empty bench.
"Talking to the coach." Satori looked at the plastic you were holding and grinned as he noticed what was inside. "Really, y/n-chan? You know that won't work on Ushiwaka, right?"
You just shrugged and placed the item beside you. "It's worth a try, 'Tori. Who knows? Maybe I'll finally be able to get a reaction out of him."
"Y/n."
You looked behind you upon hearing Wakatoshi. "Hi, Toshi. Did you miss me?" you said and flashed him a bubbly smile.
"You always come here everyday. I do not see any reason for me to miss you," he simply answered before taking a seat beside you, eyes glancing at the carrot stuffed toy before focusing on the court.
Satori, who witnessed the whole exchange, just laughed at you, his eyes squinting as he clutched his stomach in tears. "Well, there's your reaction," he said while still catching his breath.
"You don't have to be so mean, Toshi." You pouted and handed him the stuffed toy you brought.
"What's this for?" he asked in slight confusion while examining the carrot you gave him.
"That's a gift. Haven't you noticed? Its been 8 months since I started courting you." You grinned at him.
"Oh? Y/n's courting captain?" came Tsutomu who was wiping his sweat with a clean towel, eyes glancing at the carrot before he exclaimed, "I want one too!"
"Have it." Your eyes widened when Ushijima handed the carrot stuffed toy to Tsutomu. "I don't need it, and please stop giving me stuff from now on. They are irrelevant."
"I worked hard for that! You don't know how much token I spent just to get that from the claw machine!" You frowned at Wakatoshi and took the toy from Tsutomu who's now obviously confused with what's happening.
"Then I'll pay the amount you spent. Just stop giving me random stuff from now on. I don't need them and I don't have any feelings for you," Ushijima said with a passive voice.
You bowed your head and Satori immediately panicked, his arm reaching out to you but you only recoiled. "You're the worst, Toshi!" you yelled at Ushijima before dropping the toy on the floor and running out of the gym.
All three of them were in shock at your outburst, completely not expecting you to say such thing. You've always been bubbly around them so hearing those words from you was something they never expected coming.
"I think you made y/n mad, Captain," Tsutomu said while picking the carrot and dusting it off.
"But all I did was say the truth," Ushijima reasoned out, eyes focused on Tsutomu who was now hugging the toy that was supposed to be his.
Satori just sighed and turned around to go back practicing.
"Captain?" Tsutomu muttered with a confused look as Ushijima suddenly took the carrot from him.
"It's mine."
-
For the sixth time of the day, Ushijima glanced at the closed door of the gym.
It had been almost a week and he haven't caught a single glimpse of you. No visits, no 'coincidentally' bumping on each other despite having different floor levels, nor surprised bentos. Nothing. It basically felt as if you don't exist anymore.
He doesn't even know why he seemed bothered with it. Wasn't it him who pushed you away? He should feel relieved now that you were no longer bothering him, right?
Then why did it felt like he was missing you?
"Y/n's not coming," Tendou said beside Ushijima.
"I know. They haven't been visiting lately." Ushijima stared at Tendou seriously, making the red hair chuckle before raising his hands up in surrender.
"I don't have any idea where y/n-chan is. Even if I do, my lips are sealed," Tendou said before making a zipper motion.
Ushijima sighed and looked down at the ball resting between his feet. "I don't like it when they're avoiding me."
"Hm, I can't blame my cousin for doing that though. They've been pining over you for quite a while now and each time they confess, you end up rejecting them. I guess yesterday was their breaking point," Satori explained with a shrug, "Maybe you got used to the feeling of them coming back everytime you reject them that you don't know how to feel now that they stopped chasing you."
"I..like y/n."
Just as he said those words, the gym doors suddenly opened. You entered with your usual bubbly expression, a wrapped bento in hand as you made your way to them.
"I noticed that you weren't carrying your bento awhile ago so I brought it with me," you said as you handed the bento to Satori, not even bothering to spare a glance at Ushijima who was intensely looking at you.
"Y/n," Ushijima said making you turn to him.
"Yes Ushijima-san?"
Ushijima blinked at the mention of his surname. He knew that it was normal for people to call him Ushijima since it was his name but hearing you say it seemed bothering for some reason. He was used to you calling him either Toshi or Waka-kun.
"I like you, y/n," he said without hesitation.
Satori facepalmed at Ushijima's straightforwardness. Deciding to give you both some space, he stood up and walked away with his bento, leaving the two of you to talk.
You sat down and crossed your arms over chest, body facing Wakatoshi as you waited for him to explain and apologize properly.
"I'm sorry for how I acted a few days ago, I was merely being honest that time, but now I realized that I like you too... and I also did not mean to disregard your efforts just to get Mr. Carrot," Ushijima said while slightly scooting closer to you, his hand obviously trying to reach for yours.
"You named the stuff toy Mr. Carrot?" you asked with a raise of an eyebrow. "I thought you didn't need it.."
"That was a mistake. Mr. Carrot is actually sleeping in my bed as of this moment." The side of Ushijima's lips curled up when you giggled, the sound making his heart race.
"I appreciate you trying to be nice to me, Toshi, but you really hurt me back then, you know? I even had to stay away for a couple of days," you said before looking down at your lap to play with your fingers.
Panic started bubbling up inside Ushijima at your sudden silence. Swallowing the lump inside his throat, he asked you carefully, "Do you still like me? I'm really sorry, y/n. I missed your presence inside the gym. It's not the same without you. It's been too... quiet. Please give me another chance."
You lifted your head upon hearing that, clearly not expecting Ushijima to say those words in almost a pleading manner.
Ushijima took your surprised reaction as a cue to continue. He carefully took your hand in his, his hand completely engulfing yours as he intertwined your fingers. "I won't be aggressive towards you anymore. I know you said you hate me and I'm not the best at this kind of things but for you, I'll try."
You pulled your hand away from him, only to quickly wrap your arms around him, the action obviously catching Ushijima off guard. "I never hated you, 'Toshi," you mumbled with your face buried to his chest.
"Does that mean you still like me?" He said as soon as he composed himself, an unusual soft expression forming on his face when he felt you nodding.
You felt yourself melting even more to his touch when he secured an arm around your waist. "I like you so much, 'Toshi," you said as you looked up him.
"I like you too, y/n." With that, Ushijima leaned down to press a lingering kiss on your forehead.
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likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated ♥️
a/n: lately, my mind has been filled with wakatoshi ushijima
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neofixcs · 4 years ago
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DEJA VU
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Genre : Angst, a bit of fluff
Pairing: Jaehyun x f!reader
Warnings: None!
WC: 743
AN: Inspiration is ofcourse deja vu by Olivia Rodrigo! Also if anyone knows how to open replies please tell me😭it shows it’s open but it’s not idk what to do
______________________________________________
It was past midnight when the phone under her pillow vibrated, groaning she checked it to find a text message from him, “Are you asleep?” with half eyes open she replied “well not anymore”. Instantly the text was seen “Great then come downstairs”. As much as she loved her bed at the moment, she got up throwing a denim jacket over her shoulders putting on her shoes she went outside to see Jaehyun in front of her house in the car.
She opened the door and got in the passenger seat, “Good morning princess” she rolled her eyes but smiled as soon as he kissed her cheek. “So, what is so important that you had to wake me up at 2 am?”. “Well ice cream of course! let’s go to the convenience store nearby.”
The parking lot was empty and dark the only source of light coming from the store, Jaehyun went inside while Y/N waited leaning on the back of the car, Jaehyun came back with only one cup of ice cream which made Y/N’s lift her eyebrows up in question. “You woke me up for ice cream and then didn’t even buy one for me?” she said crossing her arms across her chest and a fake pout on her lips, “Don’t pout at me now.” Jaehyun said showing her two spoons and a grin on his face, “Sharing is caring didn’t they teach you this in elementary? And besides I got you your favorite flavor.” the pink cup suggested it was strawberry she happily took the spoon as they both shared the small cup of ice cream.
After finishing Y/n felt a shiver and Jaehyun let out a chuckle, “I thought of giving you my jacket so I can be one of those movie boyfriends but my princess is already smart enough to wear a jacket.” He said and nuzzled his nose on her hair. “Let’s exchange!” she said and started taking off her jacket.
“It is a crop jacket Jae!” Y/N laughed out loud seeing how small her jacket looked on him not even covering half of his chest, “You look like you wrapped in a burrito” he remarked, given their height difference it was definitely an amusing sight to see, the young couple laughing their hearts out in the empty parking lot in their own little bubble.
“It’s my turn to choose today!” Y/N rejoiced while she sat on the couch or rather Jaehyun’s lap while he wrapped his arms securely around her waist. “Are we going to watch Glee again?” “Bingo!” she giggled and put on the show that they watched over and over again whenever it was her turn to choose. Whenever a song that they liked came on Jaehyun would start singing in his angelic voice and maybe that is the reason she chose to watch it every time, they would dance in the middle of the living room hearts filled with joy. “Sometimes I wish I could turn back time so I can relive moments like these with you every day.” She said to him. “You don’t have to wish because I'll always be here, I promise.”
But time doesn’t stop and some promises are made to be broken, now Jaehyun is gone and all she was left with were broken promises, after a week of holing herself up in her room Y/N decided to treat herself with some midnight snacks. She walked to the convenience store empty parking lot except one car which looked too familiar for her liking. She saw from far a girl near the car and then a face she was trying to avoid since so many days coming out of the store with an ice cream cup and two spoons in his hand.
She didn’t feel jealousy but rather pity for the girl who must be thinking that he is special, bragging to her friends about how dreamy he is and how happy she feels is just like she herself used to, she thinks about their secret place and she thinks about the possibility of Jaehyun telling the girl that she is the ‘first one’ he took her there, she also thinks that maybe there was someone before her with whom he did all the same things but even she was a fool to believe him. With tears she didn’t know were falling down her cheeks she turned back and promised to herself that she would never look back.
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admiringlove · 3 years ago
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IDK I feel like Zhongli and Venti have the saddest backstories along with Kaeya too. Kaeya's is just manipulating and sad at the same time. Zhongli lost his girlfriend, Venti lost his friend, Kaeya's the prince of Khaen'riah.. like damn. I can't wait for the day there's like a war between Khaen'riah and Kaeya has to choose between Monstadt and his home country.
yeah i agree with those three. also SAME. like venti and zhongli destroyed khaen'riah i think, so i can't wait for the time when kaeya is put in such a fucking difficult position. i have a problem with it both ways too. also this is kinda long so i just put a read more below this.
like if he sides with monstadt, his biological father and all his people will know him as a traitor. he has to probably kill his own people. imagine the guilt. kaeya is going to go through so much mental torture. he's going to hate himself mainly because he came to monstadt with a purpose of fighting for his own country one day, and now that he's learned that it's not as bad as how khaen'riah thinks it is, he doesn't want to kill monstadt's people either. he's just gonna be in endless guilt and complete fucking depression.
and as for the other side. if he sides with khaen'riah, he's breaking every single bond he's made in monstadt. all his life, everyone he knows. he's fucked up with diluc already, but imagine when diluc finds out kaeya's siding for the other side. he's going to be so torn. i feel like kaeya and diluc do have some unresolved issues and problems they need to sort out because of crepus's death and also the time when kaeya got his vision and shit, but like. i think they both secretly want each other back? they grew up as brothers and obviously they probably secretly want to mend their bonds, but they both have way too much ego up their asses to actually talk it out. so if a full on war actually happens between khaen'riah and monstadt, and kaeya sides with his home country, everyone from monstadt is going to be his enemy. jean, venti, diluc, barbara, fucking klee(i will cry), amber, and every other person and all the knights. imagine if they made kaeya kill diluc or something. okay yeah i'm done i'll just go cry in a corner now.
that's some next level angst right there
i woke today and chose violence :')
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macgyverseries · 4 years ago
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rebutting and debunking frequently used arguments against macriley
I made this 10-page google doc rant a while ago, but I never ended up posting it. Today, however, I woke up and chose violence. So here it is: my thoughts on frequently used arguments against macriley.
I took some quotes and arguments that people put online (reddit, tumblr..), and I debunked them all :p I feel like I always see the same arguments all the time, and I’m honestly getting a little tired of hearing them. I’m here to settle this once and for all.
and yes, i did manage to cut down the google doc by 3 pages :D (but it's still long af so rip my brain)
1.”Mac and Riley are siblings because Jack is their father”
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I can (mostly) get behind the argument that Mac and Riley shouldn’t be in a romantic relationship because of their super strong friendship. Some people really value that sole platonicness, and I get that.
But the argument that I can’t get behind is that: Mac and Riley are siblings because Jack is their father figure”
If you google the definition of “father,” the first result that comes up is: “a man in relation to his children.”
Now, Jack was definitely the father figure to Riley, and I would consider her his child. He raised her. He helped shape her ideals and upbringing.
Mac only met Jack when he left MIT. So it was pretty much after Mac was raised (by Bozer’s parents haha), that Jack really came into his life. Mac already became his own person. (also, I always saw Mac and Jack as more of a bromance)
So because Riley and Mac met Jack at different periods of their lives, and they were raised differently, I wouldn’t say that they were siblings who were raised by the same father.
2. “The show writers left the impression that there was a huge age gap between them”
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I understand this a little. I do think Riley was introduced as pretty young and idk naive? Because she was literally in highschool, and then she went to prison, and then she got released into the wild. Personally, when I started watching the show, I googled the whole cast. So I started the show knowing that they were the same age.
And also, the more I got to know Riley, the more that I thought that Riley was more mature and had an old soul herself. I think it was because she was just a dynamic and round character, who is well-developed.
But, I get first impressions. I feel like once you get stuck on an impression, it’s hard to go away from that.
Also, Jack would’ve totally shipped macriley, and you can’t change my mind.
3. "Riley isn't ready for a relationship"
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I honestly think that this argument should be more geared towards Mac. He needs to figure himself out and go to therapy ffs. However, this person targeted Riley (the literal queen), so I shall defend her:
I understand wanting Riley to take some time off, and figure herself out before going straight into another relationship with someone. But here’s the thing. Throughout the first few seasons Riley’s character was very well established, and she didn’t have any partners during that time. She has proven that she is a strong, well-rounded, independent woman (with or without a partner). So i think it is valid to say that she isn’t just some girl who only has boy toys. She is much more than that.
My next point is that Riley has made it clear that she wants a lasting relationship with someone who will support her. When talking with Mac in 4.04, we see her express her interest in a stable, healthy relationship. It’s not wrong to go out and look for that potential partner. This applies to everyone (not just fictional characters): It’s going to take a few relationships and self-discovery, to find a good relationship, and people shouldn’t be shamed for searching for that.
Riley has only ever had two major boyfriends that I remember. First was Billy; she took that relationship very seriously. She really did seem happy with him. It was a shame that he cheated on her. Second was Aubrey. She also took that relationship very seriously. She had been living with him for six months (and they even had the cutest date nights!) So I wouldn't say that Riley only has boy toys. She has meaningful relationships.
Lastly, I think this was written when season four started airing, but it’s been over a year (and a pandemic) since Riley has dated. I think enough time has passed.
*4. I had to split this one up because, oh boy, there is a lot to unpack here.
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4a. “If that was the direction they’d chosen to take with that relationship from square one… My issue with it is that Mac and Riley were presented to us as friends/ found siblings for three years. There were NO romantic vibes to speak of between them..”
I actually felt the same way about macriley. The thought of them being together in season one, made me want to throw up. I don’t think the writers intended on having macriley, and I was perfectly fine with that.
I know that people look for different things when they ship. Some really like having instant gratification with the spicy, hot, sexy parts of a relationship, like macdesi (which is why I was fine with the idea of shipping macdesi in the past).
I always wanted to see macriley do more: have hot, flirtatious banters/interactions. it can be hard to ship people who seem to be missing that part of the love equation. So i agree. It's definitely strange. And I understand if you genuinely have a hard time seeing the romantic potential of macriley, when the writers have only dragged out and shown us the platonic potential of them.
Also, the reason why it is difficult to see macriley as romantic, was because they ALWAYS PRIORITIZED AND WERE DRIVEN on their friendship. A partner should be friends first, and then makeout buddies second.
But just because people start off as friends, doesn’t mean that they still don’t have that potential to be lovers. Because guess what?! Feelings change. It’s now canon that Riley has feelings for Mac, and Mac always had feelings for Riley (but never acted on it).
I'm sorry, but you like a boomer when you say “bAcK iN mY dAy, tHeY dIdN’t HaVe fEeLiNgS fOr EaCh oThEr.” like okaAAAyyYYyYY????? We are not “back in your day” anymore. We are in the present. We are in today. And today, macriley is real :)
4b. “There’s the incredibly tired trope where long-term coworkers suddenly catch feelings for each other out of nowhere”
Personally, I will never get tired of the friends to lovers trope. I think the fact that Mac and Riley had such a strong friendship and foundation is what makes them perfect. Again, I know that some people just like instant gratification, but I love when a couple can take their time to have depth, emotion, and realness in their relationship.
Obviously I am biased because I have so much love for this trope, it's my favorite trope, but I don't see why you would use the “it’s overused” as reasoning to hate a ship. Just because a trope is used a lot, doesn’t mean it is bad (that’s probably why it is so good lmao). I can understand getting tired of it, and growing a dislike towards a trope. For example, I have grown an extreme dislike towards the love triangle.
A bit of a tangent: But the difference between overusing love triangles and overusing friends to lovers, is that love triangles aren’t just commonly used tropes. They are cliches. They cause unwanted drama and unnecessary hurt to one character. Whereas friends to lovers doesn’t involve as much drama and pain for a character. It is more of just angst between two people. And we know that they will get together eventually with a happy ending. So it was never really problematic.
And even then, the great thing about overusing or utilizing tropes, is that they can act as a guide. It allows the show writers and cast to make it personal, make it their own, adding their own special flair to it
I just don’t see the “this trope is used a lot” as a valid reasoning for disliking a ship .It just seems like this commenter doesn’t like the friends to lovers trope for the sake of not liking it.
I could be very wrong in my assumption of this person’s thoughts on friends to lovers, maybe there is a deeper reasoning as to why they don’t like it, but the tone that i interpreted when i read this section, was that they don’t have a real reason to dislike it, it’s more of just because.
4c.“then there's the fact that Riley had a mostly single Mac in her life for 3-4 years and she never even considered him romantically until he was with someone else”
First: Riley didn’t CHOOSE to fall in love. You may recall that “emotions aren’t a science. You can’t control them.”
Second: Mac was broken up with Desi when she caught feelings for him. Plus, the moment Riley saw that Mac and Desi were getting happy together, she moved out and gave them space. She sacrificed her own feelings for his happiness, despite the fact that her heart was breaking.
4d. “and finally, Mac not only still doesn't seem to even have Riley on his radar in that way but he literally told another woman that he loves her just last week. Neither of them look particularly good here if they get together now.”
I'm assuming that this was written when 4.12 first aired. I'm also assuming that this comment was more directed towards the idea of Mac and Riley getting together immediately at the end of the season, rather than later down the road. I always saw of macriley as more of endgame material. That i would see them get together sometime in the future. So I agree. Macriley getting together during that time period, would be too rushed and unsatisfying.
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So those were most of the supposed arguments that I saw for people who were against macriley, but I also wanted to provide some really good examples of people who were very respectable, and actually had valid reasoning for disliking them.
1. they just don’t like shipping in general
Ships can be annoying af. Seeing people ONLY focus on the ships is sometimes tiring. I, myself, even feel a little guilty making this post, because I need to chill and mind my own business lmaooo. I really should let people do whatever they want to do with their lives, and not get caught up in the ships, but here I am :p
Anyways, I know that there is a lot of unnecessary drama that comes with shipping, and it's tiring to see people constantly go on and on about romance, when there are other perfect things about the show.
2. No matter how hard they try, they just feel it.
This is literally so dumb (and a little hypocritical/self-contradictory), but if you have a gut feeling, and you just can’t get yourself to ship it, I get it. If you truly and genuinely believe that they are best platonic friends, I can't change your opinion. And I have respect for you (if you say it in a kind manner).
Here is a nice example of a person who expressed their opinion in a nice way, with no BS.
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So the moral of the story: I can't control your deepest thoughts. I can't control your gut feelings. And that’s okay. But the moment that you start backing up your thoughts and insights with BS reasoning, is the moment that I lose respect for you.
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supersilversleuth · 3 years ago
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To Kill, To Die, or, To Live by SuperSilverSpy
Fandoms:DCU, DCU (Comics), Batman - All Media Types
Rating: Teen and Up Audiences
Category: Gen
Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Dick Grayson & Jason Todd, Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, Hurt Dick Grayson, Dick Grayson-centric, Dick Grayson Whump, Whump, Dick Grayson Needs a Hug, I have used these tags so much lately, I could probably write them in my sleep, Hurt No Comfort, maybe? - Freeform, I don’t remember writing any comfort…, Hurt, Angst, Jason Todd is a good bro, usually, sometimes?, idk - Freeform, he wants to be a good bro in this fic, Possession, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Whumptober 2021, SuperSilverSpy, SilverGrayson
Summary:
Red Hood showed up in the Batcave after helping out with a quick op one night. Everyone seemed to be looking at him with distrust and suspicion, even though he’d just helped them out. Everyone except Dick, of course, who offered him a tight smile, but whose expression was otherwise unreadable.
Kill kill kill...Dick Grayson shall die...
“What? Why the oh so serious faces?” Jason’s voice drawled.
OR Jason wakes up one morning, and there’s a voice in his head screaming for the death of one Dick Grayson
No. 4 - TRUST FALL “Do you trust me?” | taken hostage | pushed
Published: 2021-10-04 Completed:2021-10-04 Words: 3091 Chapters: 3/3
Chapter One: To Kill
It happened out of the blue one day.
Jason woke in a cold sweat, but he didn’t immediately sit up in bed. In fact, he didn’t move at all. He just stared up at his ceiling, a single thought running through his head, a single emotion coursing through his veins.
Dick Grayson must die.
Distantly, a part of him felt appalled at the notion, but most of him was running with it. Anger clouded his mind but it was unlike any he’d ever felt before. It was different, colder somehow, not like the usual searing heat of pit madness.
He heard a new voice in his head spewing insults about the Golden Boy left and right. Some felt familiar, as if taken from Jason’s own mind. Most of them were new, and he did his best to ignore the most unsavory ones.
He didn’t actually hate Dickface, did he? N—
Jason sat up, and began preparing for the day ahead of him. Put bread in the toaster, remember the meetings he has with several of his informants— Dick Grayson deserves to die— now that didn’t sound right…what was he thinking about again? Put butter on the toast when it’s done, start eating, think about that case that’s been stumping him lately— take Nightwing hostage —what was that? He does have a pretty busy nightlife… Do the morning’s dishes, brush his teeth, get dressed. He had a drug ring to bust tonight, that’s right. Some scumbags needed a little visit from the esteemed crime lord Red Hood— kill them all— what? N—
Jason went through the rest of his day in a haze. He met with some informants, gave food to some people on the streets. He got everything done quickly and efficiently, he even managed to make time to buy groceries. With every interaction, he acted just like he normally would. His movements were comfortable, voice at just the right level to suit each situation. People seemed easily swayed by him, to do as he asked. And yet...he felt detached somehow, as if watching through someone else’s eyes—someone who acted exactly like him.
He couldn’t bring himself to do anything about it though, couldn’t open his mouth and say something out of character, or just talk to himself when no one was in sight. Distantly, a part of him felt alarmed, something was just off.
Still, he made it through the day just fine. Whatever had been bothering him earlier that morning seemed to fade, and he started to feel as if nothing had changed. And nothing had, right? He didn’t remember anything different between today and yesterday…
Night came, and the Red Hood went out to save the day, or at least crash some a**hats’ day, he wasn’t picky. Everything went to plan too, which made him elated. The bats could say all they wanted about him, but no one could deny his clear skill and competency.
Everything was going well, the drug traffickers were all passed out on the ground and Jason was getting ready to call the police, when it happened.
His thumb withdrew from the call button, burner phone slipping back into his pocket. His hands went instead to his guns, and he felt his body turning, moving towards the unconscious bodies of some of the worst that he’d taken down. Kill. Kill. Kill. Chanted that new voice in his head. Kill them all, they deserve it. Just like Dick Grayson.
What? N—No, that didn’t make sense. Why was—Why was his hand still moving? What was his finger doing on the trigger? Jason didn’t understand. I don’t want to kill them, he thought. He pushed against that voice, that—that presence in his head.
It pushed back .
Jason was left scrambling internally, as he watched his own arm lift and aim. A body lay on the ground, motionless where splashes of crimson decorated the floor.
Jason felt as if he’d been booted out of his own body, like his actions weren’t his to control anymore. He felt sick, but no bile would rise in his throat. No feeling would stir in his stomach. He didn’t understand.
Two bodies, on the ground, it was like he was seeing double, than triple, then several many more. He started to lose count. At one point, he noticed there was a knife in his hand, that his face was twisted in an expression of satisfaction. His hands were covered in blood, and so were his pants. He’d have a hard time washing that out, Jason realized distantly. Death here, death there, death death everywhere, said the voice in his head. He knew he was feeling things, actual emotions. But they didn’t really seem to be there . They were foreign, unfamiliar, not his own. Jason could think of all the synonyms he knew to describe just how out of place the anger and the bloodlust and the malicious satisfaction felt. How out of place he himself felt. Kicked out of his own mind, out of control of his own body.
Even with past experiences in mind control and mind-twisting pits of torture, this still was like nothing he had ever felt before.
Jason didn’t know what day it was, what was happening, he just couldn’t tell. He couldn’t seem to keep track . It had been like this ever since the massacre, since he’d fought and lost the battle in his own mind.
Red Hood showed up in the Batcave after helping out with a quick op one night. Everyone seemed to be looking at him with distrust and suspicion, even though he’d just helped them out. Everyone except Dick, of course, who offered him a tight smile, but whose expression was otherwise unreadable.
Kill kill kill...Dick Grayson shall die...
“What? Why the oh so serious faces?” Jason’s voice drawled.
“Those drug traffickers on Monday,” began the big bat himself. Jason’s hand waved as if to wipe it all away. “Lay off it, B. I promise it wasn’t me, alright? I left before whoever murdered them all showed up.” The Replacement was frowning at him, and the Demon brat was scowling his way as well. Bruce thinned his lips, looking at him in that insufferable judgmental way he had. Jason felt himself scoffing, “I don’t owe you fools anything. ”
Please, he thought, this isn’t me. Please, I know it sounds like me but I swear it isn’t. His body went straight for his motorcycle, hopping on and driving away with the squealing of tires.
There are TWO POSSIBLE ENDINGS, the first one is Major Character Death, the second is “everybody lives”
Read the next chapter for tragedy, read the chapter after that for somewhat happy ending
Chapter Two: To Die
“Hey Jay? You alright?”
The prey has fallen into the trap...
Jason felt his head swivel in Dick’s direction, “What are you doing here, Dickface?”
“I don’t know, you just seemed to be acting a little off yesterday. I was just wondering if—”
“I’m fine.” Jason’s voice growled. “And I didn’t kill those people. So there’s nothing for you to report back to ol’ daddy bats up there on his high horse.” Dick scowled briefly, but then his expression smoothed. “I’m not here to spy on you, Jay. And I know it wasn’t you who killed those people.” His brother looked at him steadily, right in the eyes. No! Dick, you have to get away from me, he wants to kill y —
“It wasn’t you,” continued Dick, “It was whatever's controlling you.”
For a moment, Jason panicked. But whoever it was in his head let up quite a bit, and Jason suddenly felt lighter than air. It was like the first taste of water after days in the desert. Like he could finally breathe after an eternity of going without.
“Wha—” Jason stumbled, knees feeling weak. Dick rushed forward, catching him as he fell. “No...N—No, Dick, you can’t be here. ‘m a killer, that thing in my head, it—it wants to—”
“Shh, it’s okay, I’m here.” His hand carded through Jason’s hair. “We’ll figure this out, okay? We’ll figure this out.”
“It…it seems to have left me.” Jason said, voice trembling in awe as he flexed his fingers. It’d been so long…
Dick smiled down at his brother.
“It’s okay, Jay.” He said, “It must’ve fled when it realized I knew it was there.”
“How…how did you know, anyways?” Jason asked.
“I just…I had a feeling. You were acting off, and that look in your eye…”
“Thanks, Dick,” his little brother replied, but then his voice changed, sounding almost…fearful? “Did you hear that?”
“Hear what?” He asked, straining his ears, “I don’t—”
There was a loud roar and the sound of large, stomping feet. Dick frantically looked around, noticing as shadows creeped in from underneath the door. The air was charged with magic, power flowing throughout the room.
“It’s back,” whispered Jason, clutching Dick’s arm, “we should run.”
“Yeah,” Dick said, as if in a daze, “let’s go.”
It seemed so surreal, the supernatural monsters bursting through the door. Dick wasn’t sure what surprised him so much about it, he dealt with this kind of thing every other day. It’s just…
“Dickie,” said Jason, pulling him towards the window. “Snap out of it, they’re gaining on us.”
He shook his head, looking back—and yeah, the strange magical creatures were right behind them.
Jason jumped through the window, Dick following closely behind. They fired their grappling guns, arriving on the roof opposite in what felt like the blink of an eye.
“Hurry,” said a voice and—oh, it was Jason. It was coming out of Jason’s mouth, right? It must be Jason’s. “We should go that way.”
Dick looked his little brother in the eyes, grounding himself there, before following Jason’s lead as they ran across rooftops.
Dick felt like he was doing everything underwater, but it was…nice. Pretty great actually. He barely even noticed the burn in his legs, or how the monsters chasing them had odd-looking shadows.
Each time he looked back, all he saw was claws and teeth. Masses of fur and strange golden markings.
They paused for breath a few blocks away.
Dick wondered at Jason’s plan. It felt like there was something he should be doing…“Jay? What should we do? Where do we go?”
“That thing in my head seemed afraid of tall places…”
“The—The Wayne Enterprises building.” Dick replied almost immediately.
“Of course,” said Jason, bumping him with his shoulder, “How about a race?”
Dick grinned back at him, “Sure, why not.”
Adrenaline flooded his veins, and for a moment, he almost forgot about the monsters chasing them.
Jason nodded to him, and then they took off, running and jumping, grappling all across the city, heading for the tallest building around. Dick pressed himself to go faster, run harder, jump stronger .
He could see Jason out of the corner of his eye, also going considerably fast.
Jason wasn’t the only one Dick noticed, he also spotted several of them on Jason’s tail. The monsters seemed to move just as fast as they did. He could only hope his little brother could go fast enough to outrun them.
Dick reached the WE building first, skidding to a stop on the roof. Jason arrived soon after.
The monsters gathered a roof away, preparing to jump.
“I—I don’t understand, I thought you said they wouldn't follow us up here.” Dick looked at Jason, searching for answers in his expression.
His little brother’s features were soft, his eyes glittered with something strange and otherworldly. His voice was smooth and heavy with something familiar… “It’s okay, I have a plan, but there’s no time. Dick, do you trust me?”
“Of course I trust you, Little Wing.”
Darkness creeped up along the edges of the building, sliding onto the roof. Claws scraped against the ground, glowing gold eyes began to surround them. There was a single opening, a small bit of edge that had nothing on it.
Jason smiled, grabbing Dick’s grapple gun. And then pushed him off the roof.
Dick Grayson fell over 1,000 feet to the ground, all the while believing his brother would catch him.
Above, on the roof of Wayne Tower, Jason Todd’s eyes flashed gold.
Chapter Three: To Live
“Hey Jay? You alright?”
The prey has fallen into the trap...
Jason felt his head swivel in Dick’s direction, “What are you doing here, Dickface?”
“I don’t know, you just seemed to be acting a little off yesterday. I was just wondering if—”
“I’m fine.” Jason’s voice growled. “And I didn’t kill those people. So there’s nothing for you to report back to ol’ daddy bats up there on his high horse.” Dick scowled briefly, but then his expression smoothed. “I’m not here to spy on you, Jay. And I know it wasn’t you who killed those people.” His brother looked at him steadily, right in the eyes. No! Dick, you have to get away from me, he wants to kill y —
“It wasn’t you,” continued Dick, “It was whatever's controlling you.”
For a moment, Jason panicked. But whoever it was in his head let up quite a bit, and Jason suddenly felt lighter than air. It was like the first taste of water after days in the desert. Like he could finally breathe after an eternity of going without.
“Wha—” Jason stumbled, knees feeling weak. Dick rushed forward, catching him as he fell. “No...N—No, Dick, you can’t be here. ‘m a killer, that thing in my head, it—it wants to—”
“Shh, it’s okay, I’m here.” His hand carded through Jason’s hair. “This thing is here to test me Jay, I didn’t have a choice. I know you didn’t either, and I am so, so sorry for that Little Wing. We’ll figure this out, okay? We’ll figure this out.”
Jason opened his mouth to reply, when suddenly the presence was back, the voice along with it. Jason could feel his consciousness collapsing back, dissociating once again. He vaguely registered as one of his hidden daggers was swiftly drawn, and pressed harshly against Dick’s neck.
“Do you trust me?” asked Jason’s voice, a smirk spread across his face.
The question was meant to be mocking, but Dick answered seriously, “Of course, I know you’re still in there, Jay. I trust you.”
They stood on the roof of the WE building. Whoever was controlling Jason had used his strength to give Dick a good beating, and sent a picture of the aftermath to the bats. It was only a matter of time before they showed.
“One as special as Dick Grayson, must be able to trust at least one member of his family. Jason Todd is least likely to accept this trust, which makes my job so much easier. I look forward to his death,” said Jason’s voice while they waited.
Dick, all tied up, sporting a black eye and what were likely bruised ribs—grinned like a maniac. “I recognized your presence, didn’t I? I could tell there was something off with him, you nasty little f***er. You may think you chose your victim well, but you’re making a big mistake—Jay will pull through for me, and you will be torn away as if it were nothing.”
Wow, Dick just sounded so—so confident in Jason’s ability to do whatever it was he was supposed to do. Jason wasn’t sure he’d be able to overpower this thing, let alone destroy it.
“The rest of your so-called family will arrive any minute now, will you weep at their demise?”
Dick scowled, “The rules that you are bound to state that you can’t kill any of my loved ones before me.”
“I may not be able to kill them, but I’ve been doing this awhile, and I know all the loopholes to this little game.”
Behind them, the bats touched down on the roof. Jason felt himself turn to face them. It seemed that Bruce, Tim, Damian, and Steph all showed up for the party.
“Here to save your favorite Golden child?”
“What do you want?” Demanded Bruce, stoic as ever.
They never cared about you , none of them do. Hissed the voice in his head. Nobody trusts you
Nobody trusts you , Jason thought back at it, you murderous lying b****** .
It chuckled, ah, but it is not my face I’m wearing. It’s your's.
Outloud, Jason’s voice addressed the bats, “This is the price you pay for not trusting me, for letting Dick down. You didn’t even notice there was something different about him, did you? You didn’t even notice when Jason Todd was no longer Jason Todd.”
Bruce and Dick were the only ones who didn’t look confused at the words. Dick, because he seemed to know what was going on, and Bruce, because he was, well, Bruce. Batman’s face was as stoic as ever.
Jason felt his face twist into something surely ugly and murderous-looking.
Power surged through him, coming from seemingly nowhere. But Jason could feel it at his fingertips, being pushed into him and pulled out, he had no control over its course. The air around him became charged with magic, and then the bats were engulfed in a bright, golden light.
A moment later, Jason's eyes opened to find that all four of them were frozen in various positions and turned into a shiny golden color, standing still like statues.
The look of horror on Dick’s face hurt to look at, when Jason felt himself turn back to the man.
Quickly, Dick’s expression turned to that of anger, “What did you do to them?” he seethed. “Turn them back!”
“It’s too late, Dick Grayson. Once you are dead, your family will remain this way forever.”
Jason’s arms reached out, grabbing Dick and picking him up.
His feet took him to the edge of the roof, holding Dick out over the ground far, far below.
“J—Jay, listen to me, you can fight this. I know you can. You’re still in there, I believe in you.”
“Alright, that’s enough.” Jason watched as he dropped his brother over the edge.
Time seemed to stop.
No! He thought, pushing back as hard as he could against that malicious presence in his mind. Jason pictured Dick’s face, looking at him sincerely, a bead of blood forming where Jason’s own knife grazed his throat. “I trust you ,” he’d said.
Jason followed him over the edge before he even knew what he was doing. Shooting out his grapple instinctively, cutting through the air rapidly as he fell.
This is going to hurt , he thought, as he set himself on a collision course with Dick, but I think we’ll live.
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airplanelanding · 3 years ago
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I woke up today and chose violence so i'm asking for something angsty because i like the pain idk 😭😭
" of sins and broken kings "
- *let's pretend there's a really cool alias until i pull myself together * also how are you doing this fine morning ?? ( Or evening idk it's pretty sunny here 😂😂)
Just because you asked for angst I'm so tempted to NOT do angst but I'm kind and seriously in a h/c mood lately so you got lucky shdjakdmmajf
Also ahahahaha it's still evening for me, a bit past 23:00—
But im alright ahaha not been doing too great lately, hence the h/c mood, but hopefully that'll change soon since I just sent in the drop form to withdraw form two of my classes.
How have you been doing this fine evening/morning, beloved anon?
this ended up being more of a long snippet than a summary omg im so sorry ahaha i got carried away
of Sins and Broken Kings
"I've done terrible things," Arthur whispered as Merlin cupped his cheek. His touch was so gentle. It was a tenderness he didn't deserve. "In the name of my father, I have done...Terrible things..."
"I know," Merlin murmured, the light of the fire they stood in front of casting shadows on his face. He looked ethereal. Arthur didn't deserve him. "But I have as well."
Arthur leaned into the hand on his face, closing his eyes. "I've murdered innocents."
"Yet, I love you still," Merlin sighed, wrapping his free arm around Arthur's waist and pulling him closer. "Stop trying to push me away with the things you've done, Arthur. Neither of us are perfect, we've made terrible mistakes. Done despicable things in the name of belief. In the name of those whose judgement we thought we could trust. Do not push me away, when you've only just let me in..."
"You shouldn't love me, why do you love me?" Arthur frowned. He didn't understand it. How Merlin could look at him with such love, and adoration, knowing the grievous sins he'd committed against people with magic.
"Arthur, you are not what you've done," he assured the king, his voice so caring it made Arthur's heart ache. It was the unwavering faith in his eyes, faith in Arthur, that finally made the king nod.
"Nor are you."
Or
Sometimes, Arthur's past comes back to haunt him in the form of memories and nightmares.
Luckily, Merlin is always at his side to reassure him of the growth he's made.
Remind him of who he's become, despite the odds against them.
fjsdhfak i hope you like what i did with it!!!
i promise im still working on the summary for hurrah, i just have like 18 titles in my ask rn and have like 3 or 4 fics i need to post by the 31st (one of which is quite a bit longer than the rest), so i have been a bit slow lately with getting titles done. I just saw this one and jumped on it because it was sent at the perfect time for a distraction from my homework that i need to do once i finish this leon fic kjsdhflkhjsafaf
send title, get summary
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alexhandersenx · 5 years ago
Text
There’s no one to save me
Ivar/Reader (Modern AU)
A/N: Hi everyone! First and most important thing, HAPPY BIRTHDAY LOVE!!💕🎉🎂 @flowers-in-your-hayr I want to wish you all the best on this day, I hope you enjoy this day as much as possible and hope this can make it a bit better! This year may not have been our best birthdays but next year we’ll celebrate them twice! You know I really admire your work but much more as a person! Thank you for always being so so nice, you’re great!💖
Second, here it is, me and my shitty writing. This is the first time I ever write anything (you’ll see) but a lovely little bird came and told me about this amazing surprise (@maggiescarborough​ 💖) and I couldn’t refuse. This is the moodboard I chose bc when I asked Gabi about it, I wrote more of a mini fic than a request (sorry about that, honey😅) so I thought it’ll be easier since I already have an idea.
And finally, to say that this can be considered as the first chapter of a small fic???, Idk,  if you want to read something else, I will continue it and if not, it can stay as a imagine. (Any feedback you want to give is always welcomed and will help me in the future!)
Okay that’s all, I think. Now I'll shut my mouth and let you guys read in peace😊
All credits to this amazing moodboard for the birthday girl @flowers-in-your-hayr​
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Words: 3.9k
Warnings: First time writing (biggest warning), mention of death and suicide, cursing, drug dealing, a bit of angst, English not being my mother tongue. (I’m not sure if something else😅).
There you were, (Y/N) (Y/LN), facing the most important case you had encountered in your professional career, which, to tell the truth, was not very long. You were 24 years old and you were a policewoman at the local police station on a small island called Samsø, which together with some others as Læsø, Anholt and Sjælland were known as the 'Kattegat Islands'.
You started there when you were 22, with a lot of effort and after years of dedication, yes, it may sound like a joke, since you were very young, but since your father passed away, you decided to follow in his footsteps. He had become chief of police and worked in what was now your office. His death occurred unexpectedly, one day he went to work and didn't come back, your mother and you didn't know anything, but he had been working on a drug-related case for a long time, and they didn't clarify anything for you after his death either, justifying that it was a case of high danger and a secret file.
When your father died, you were given the belongings he was carrying on the day of his death. You didn't find anything out of the ordinary, just his watch, which had his initials on it, the car keys and his wallet, in which he carried the usual: some money, credit cards and a picture of  your mother and you as a child. From one of the compartments of the wallet, a small fragment of a photo was sticking out. It was very enlarged, only a small part of the face could be seen, it looked like a man, but his face didn't sound familiar to you and besides the fragment was very damaged, so you didn't give it much importance. Although you were intrigued to know the reason for that fragment in your father's wallet and you wanted to know the identity of that person, unfortunately you couldn't do anything about it. You put the items back in the bag and kept it in a drawer that you knew you wouldn't open often since it was with the rest of his belongings.
After this incident, you and your mother faced a difficult time when living at home without him was almost impossible. After a not very long period, you were able to return to your daily life and continued, but however, your mother did not get back on her feet, she went into a great depression. You tried psychologists at first and slowly it looked like she was getting better, but it seems she only did it to fall into an even bigger black hole.
From then on, you contacted a psychiatrist, after a year watching your mother was consumed with sadness you couldn't stand it any longer, even though she was resistant to taking medication you couldn't do anything else. She had been going to the psychiatrist for some time and the truth was that it wasn't going as you expected, your mother had a very negative attitude. She tried to avoid medication when you didn't force her, and for that reason none of the treatments worked.
You were desperate, time was passing, and you didn't know what to do anymore, until one day when you came home and you found your mother breathing very lightly and not responding to any kind of stimulus. She had decided to take her own life with a bottle of pills, yes, how ironic. When she was taken to the hospital, the doctors told you that her vital signs were very bad, the intake of medication had to be over six hours ago, and this had already affected a large part of the system. It was very difficult for her to survive, so much so that she couldn't.
21 years, just 21 years when you were left alone in the world, when everyone was getting drunk and having a hangover and throwing up the next morning, you were there struggling to get where you were today.
Although you couldn't have reached that point without the unconditional support of your father's great friend, Officer Heahmund. He had been like a second father to you, the only one you could lean on when these events occurred. Both he and his wife Anne and their little twins always had a place for you.
You could say you'd been investigating the case for a year and it was huge, really huge. Both you and your colleagues had reached an impasse, you couldn't get anything new, so you decided to take the reins and make a proposal... raid the shelter where the organization was hiding. You had managed, after a long time of tracking them down, to find out that every Thursday at 11.30 p.m. they went out to do business. If you calculated it perfectly, you could set up an ambush, surround the perimeter with your agents strategically, and force your way in, so you could examine the interior for clear, incriminating evidence and wait for them to come back and finally catch them and finish the damn case. From that point on, the game would begin.
Ivar Lothbrook, or also known as Ivar the Boneless, was the person you were chasing. Known to be the leader of the organization. Information about him was quite scarce, the son of a bitch knew how to remain anonymous, you didn't even know what he looked like. Although he also took part in the weekly excursions, he never got out of the vehicle they were in and you didn't dare get close enough to the shelter to see them leave, just as a precaution, so as not to spoil the case. All you knew was that the nickname he had earned was due to a disease he suffered from that made him unable to walk, Osteogenesis Imperfecta.
But you did know something else about his brothers, who were in charge of leading the band when they were doing field work and his brother Ivar was not there. There were three more brothers, the elder Ubbe, the second Hvitserk and the last Sigurd. You had pictures of them, which you had studied to a tee, and they didn't have any kind of background, something that caught your attention because in all these bands it's something common, but it seems that they were playing clean.
Tomorrow would be the big day and you had no margin for error. You decided to leave it at that, not think about it anymore. You opened a bottle of wine and ordered dinner at your favourite restaurant. You were going to enjoy that night quietly before going into action.
That night you practically didn't rest, your head didn't stop thinking and you were fighting against it for a long time, until finally you were victorious, being able to sleep. You promised yourself that it wouldn't be the only thing you would be victorious in.
The sound of the alarm woke you up, it was very early, although there were still hours to go, you had to be ready and needed to do certain things before preparing. You had arranged to meet at 8pm at the police station, you would go over the plan and wait until 10.30pm to put the plan into action. The day went away, you had gone out to buy some things that you needed, you had done some sport to clear your mind and you had taken a bath for an hour and a half which helped to relax each of your muscles that had been in constant tension for several days.
You got out of the shower, you started to fix yourself and for a moment you looked in the mirror, from bottom to top, and you looked into your eyes, you saw your father, you saw him in you.
- “Ivar, Ivar, what little freedom you have left” - You said in a defiant voice as you kept looking at yourself and feeling sure that everything would go as you planned.
What you didn't consider at the time is that in a game you don't always win, and even less when you don't know your opponent.
A phone call took you out of your thoughts, you hesitated for a few seconds before reacting, you went into the kitchen and picked up the phone:
- “Hi, (Y/N) here”.
- “Hello, sweetheart, how are you?” Your boss asked with some concern in his voice.
-  “I'm doing good, getting ready to leave soon. Anything happened?”
-  “No, nothing, I just wanted to remind you, that you still have time to stop this, I can send another partner, I don't want you to do this out of obligation” - said Heahmund, with some hesitation.
- “Heahmund, we've talked about this a million times, I'm gonna take care of it. We've gone over the plan every day; we've looked at alternatives in case the first option doesn't work out and you have an expert in infiltrating other people's homes in charge of the plan... What can go wrong? Trust me, before you can tell, we're in your backyard drinking beers with Anne and the girls, celebrating together as a family, while Ivar the Boneless is rotting in jail” - You said with certainty
- “Ever since you were a little girl I've always admired that about you: Determined, brave and a fighter, which has always made you achieve everything you set out to do - he answered with a broken voice” - I just wanted to wish you the best of luck in the world now that no one is around. See you in a bit, Agent 007.
As he spoke you noticed some concern in his voice, was Heahmund afraid of the mission?... Impossible, he was known for his courage and dedication but in this situation,  you could not avoid that this insecurity that you did not feel for a long time will hit you again.
Since the death of your father you had changed, you had become steel, as you said, you had no heart for anyone, you had focused so much on getting ahead and getting what you had in mind that you had forgotten one very important thing, being a teenager. And now that time was gone.
Still, you burst out laughing when he called you Agent 007
- “Thank you, Jack Bauer” - you said, playing along, referring to those movies and action shows you loved to watch together when you were younger.
You hung up and then felt a sense of emptiness and… fear? No, you weren't going to let that happen. You certainly knew that you had to occupy your mind at that moment, or you would go crazy. So, you connected your phone to the speaker and put on your favourite playlist and time passed with you getting ready until it was time to leave. You took the bike keys, a beautiful Harley-Davidson and got going.
When you arrived at the police station your colleagues and Heahmund were already there, you went over the plan and waited for the exact time to start.
It was 11:15, the game had begun. You were about to head for the first stop on your mission. The aim in this phase was to park in the surroundings of the main highway, where Ivar and his people had to go through, so you could check that everything was in order, and that the usual Thursday trip would take place. You arrived before time, it was night and the highway was slightly illuminated by distant lanterns. The place had been carefully chosen as there were certain points where you could wait in stealth.
As time passed, you became more and more nervous and couldn't help it. There was something in your head that wouldn't let you concentrate. Heahmund noticed it and said:
-  “What's going on in that little head, (Y/N)?” - He said in a sweet tone.
-  “Hmm...nothing, I'm fine” - you whispered as you looked for his glance and smiled.
-  “Come on, (Y/N), I know you too well to know that something is bothering you”
- “Ugh, I hate you Heahmund… what if they don't come, if for whatever reason today doesn't happen” - you said losing your nerve a little
-  “Hey, hey, hey and this? Where's my little fighter? They're going to do it, you'll see, and before dawn they'll all be behind bars”
- “How can you be so sure?”
- “I just know” - he said with confidence and came up to you kissing you on the head
You needed it, you needed someone telling you that everything would be fine, with your 24 years you were tired of playing grown-up, strong and lonely. You had always needed that love, but that side of you was known only by Heahmund and he had always been there to give it to you.
You did not have much more time to get melancholy, it was happening, Ivar and his people could be seen from afar. They were organized in three black armoured cars and four motorcycles guarding the sides. You saw how they passed before you, in a heartbeat everything you had feared had happened, the only part of the plan that did not fall on you had worked. Now everything depended on you. You waited a few minutes and both of you, along with several patrol cars, set off. Some of your colleagues stayed in the place so that they could control when they returned and thus warn those of you who were going to the shelter.
Second stop on the mission, the shelter. Ivar and his people owned an apartment building where they used to stay permanently, it was on the outskirts of town, in the middle of nowhere. You had left your vehicles a few meters behind, also hidden, so as not to cause any noise. You found yourselves walking quietly in the dark with your guns in hand, towards an old building. When you reached the right distance, you appreciated the immensity of the building with enough housing to accommodate several families. The facade was neglected, yellowish-coloured, and you could see the doors of each house, white and many of them peeling and battered. Plus, right next door was what looked like a big warehouse. Everything was surrounded by metal fences.
Your companions began to take their positions as you had planned and you and Heahmund continued to approach, until you reached the side of the fence so that you could climb without attracting attention.
You looked at Heahmund and nodded just as you turned to move forward alone you noticed how he grabbed your arm, your heart racing as he said:
- “I'll keep an eye on everything that happens, the moment I hear something out of the ordinary, even if you don't say the code word, we'll get in and get you out”
- “Damn, Heahmund, you scared me... yes, I know, don't worry” - you said losing your patience a little
And now it was time, holding your SIG Sauer firmly in your hands and checking for the last time that the microphone you were holding in the middle of your bra was properly placed, you were ready to move forward. You approached the front door of the warehouse. If there was anything interesting to look for, it would be there. You pulled the lock pick out of your pocket and picked the lock easily. You opened the door a couple of inches, at that moment your heart felt like it was going to come out of its socket. You checked that the light inside was off, you continued to open it completely and you went inside quietly. It was all dark, you stood still for a few seconds to pay attention to all the sound around you. You could only hear the “tick tock” of a clock. You looked at the wall for a light switch, found it and turned it on. Several fluorescent lights illuminated the big warehouse, some of them failing and blinking making the place even more scary. For a few seconds the light blinded you because of the contrast of the dark night to which your eyes had been used so far. You took a quick look, ducked your head and whispered into the microphone:
- “Clear”
You raised your head and for the first time you stopped to look around. It was immense, the walls were covered with high shelves where there were pots of all kinds, some were full and some were empty, there were boxes, masks, safety goggles, gloves and all kinds of chemical devices. There was a long table on the side with many chairs, some lying on the floor, others on top of the table... that place reminded you of a typical high school lab from which the most you could do was decant a mixture. You were surprised... they were cooking drugs there... "Well, what a dump" you said to yourself; you thought everything would be much more careful and not such a messy place as that.
And in the middle of all that mess, at the end of the room you found a big wooden desk and a big black leather armchair behind it, it seemed that that little space didn't belong in the room, it was all tidy and on the table the only thing that was there was some papers, small pictures and office material. You approached and saw some maps with certain points marked... What were these points? You thought that it could be some meeting place or points of sale, you took out the PDA and uploaded the photo to the police station network.
- “I think I found something, I just uploaded it to the network” -You said in a whisper
You didn't have any answers, nor did you notice much of it, since you got caught up in a huge painting right behind the desk. In it appeared a beautiful young woman with long blonde hair. It was just a painting, but you could feel the elegance of that woman in it. Next to her was a taller man who looked slightly older, shaven and with a long beard with white locks. He was in a suit and showed a great presence just like the woman. But there was something that caught your attention, the look of him, his intense blue eyes seemed to pierce you as if you were seeing them in person. The wrinkles at the corner of his eyes betrayed his maturity. You stared for a while, curious, until you came back to reality, took a quick look again to see if anything could be useful, but nothing. So, you retraced your steps and headed for the door. You tried to communicate with your colleagues again:
- “Guys, nothing else around here, I'm going back to my starting position” - You whispered again.
And at that moment you froze, you were listening to yourself double and your "double" was coming right out the door. Time stopped for you, you didn't understand anything, and the only thing you could think of was to hide behind the door. This one opened little by little and you started to listen how people came in... one, two, three... you were counting the steps to be able to calculate the number of people, you lost the count to the fifth since such a quantity would be impossible to face and come out victorious.
- “SHHHH, shut up... do you hear it?” - said a male voice you didn't recognize.
What you could hear was your breathing shaking through a walkie... at that moment the world fell apart. A police walkie in the hands of those assholes, something hadn't gone right, and you didn't know what.
- “Yeah, it smells weird too, doesn't it?” - said another male voice, but this one sounded much more ironic.
- “I don't know Ivar I don't smell anything... what do you smell?” - Said a third voice, the closest so far to your position.
- “Mmm I don't know it's a disgusting smell, something like... police”
At that very moment they closed the door, leaving you exposed. You saw five men, but you didn't have time for much else as the one closest to you, that you came to recognize was Ubbe, grabbed your arm and made a quick movement blocking it, causing your gun to fall to the ground. He drew you to his body by placing your back to him and holding your neck with his arm, doing a lock around it to immobilize you. You looked ahead, saw a young man slowly approaching you and examining you from bottom to top until your eyes connected, deep blue and intimidating gaze. To tell the truth, he was a very attractive guy, but that idea was automatically erased when you remembered who he was. Something stirred in your stomach, you didn't know if it was fear, hate or a mixture. Slowly a cynical smile appeared in his mouth. Definitely, it was disgust what you had noticed in your stomach seconds ago. You could have tried to get out of that grip, but you didn't see the point, they were five men over six feet. It was impossible, to get out of there. Ubbe kept pressing his arm against your neck, causing your senses to slowly fade away.
- “Well, well, and I thought this wasn't going to be fun" said the boy in front of you in a hesitant voice. - Nice to meet you, I am Ivar Lothbrook - he said extending his hand
That was the last thing you could see and hear before you lost total control over your body and thus your senses.
The game had started... like a shitty one.  
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