#like hey karma why not spare me from this one? I’ve been a good boy keeping other people from getting sick don’t give me a cold | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

spencer-reid-in-a-pool · 4 years ago

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Room For Dessert

anon requested- Can you do a smut where rossi has a dinner party but also has his Niece staying with him because her apartment is being fumigated. Her and Spencer hit it off and go at it.

anon requested- smut 54: you better be quiet or everyone is going to know what a naughty little slut you are. and 59: such a needy little thing, aren't you? with Spencer

Contains: fingering (female receiving), hand job (male receiving), mention of pregnancy/breeding kink, name calling, slight degradation, unprotected sex, swearing, sexual acts in a public setting

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I had never met my uncle David's co-workers before. He had always talked about introducing us, but it just never seemed to be the right time. It seems that today though, the world decided it was the right time.

He was having a dinner party tonight and my apartment needed to be fumigated. What luck!

I figured I would be staying with him for a couple days, so I packed my things after work yesterday. Now it was Saturday, the day of the party, and time to head over.

I had to admit I was nervous. A dinner party with people I didn't know? Talk about awkward. But I decided to make the most of it.

Once I was at his house, he took me to a spare room that would be mine for the next few days and showed me where everything was. Not that I would remember since we're in a mansion.

A few hours passed and it was time for people to start arriving. As I was getting my party clothes on, I could hear voices downstairs. Guess I should hurry.

Once I was done with my hair, makeup, and clothes, I made my way slowly down the stairs. The voices got progressively louder as I got closer.

A few people were scattered around the immediate area. A dark-haired woman stood talking to a blonde woman over near the far side of the room. Uncle David was talking with an Asian man and a dark-skinned woman by the entrance to the kitchen. And lastly, a well-built Hispanic man sat talking to a blonde woman in colorful clothing and a tall, slightly unkempt man.

I wasn't sure where to go first so I just kind of stood on the bottom step without saying anything. Then Uncle David noticed me.

"Ah there she is! We've been waiting for you. Come on and mingle while the food is finishing up."

At his words, the room full of people all turned their heads toward me.

Slightly taken aback by all the eyes on me, I gave a small wave and a smile before making my way down to them.

"It's nice to meet you guys! I'm (Y/N). Uncle David has told me about all of you."

The woman wearing bright colors made her way over to me first, a glass of champagne in hand.

"It's so nice to meet you! Your dress is to die for!"

She then enveloped me in a one arm hug. I hugged her back and accidentally made eye contact with the tall guy in the back. He quickly looked away. What was he staring at me for?

"I'm Penelope by the way!"

She pulled away and smiled at me once more before making room for the next person.

Emily, JJ, Luke, Tara, and Matt all introduced themselves. The last guy must be...

"Dr. Spencer Reid," he said as he stuck his hand out to shake.

Oh. Oh wow.

Now that I got a closer look at him, I could see why his nickname was "Pretty Boy." If we hadn't been in front of so many people, I would've had to jump his bones right then.

I shook his hand shyly.

"It's nice to meet you. I've heard a lot about you. Aren't you a little too attractive to be in the FBI? How does anyone get their work done?"

Spencer cleared his throat and glanced around the room to see people start walking to the kitchen. The food must be almost done.

"Well, why don’t you sit next to me at the dinner table? I’ll make sure to tell you all about my...work,” he murmured as he made no attempts to hide his eyes roaming my body.

Did-did he just...?

Before I could think anything coherent, he began walking away. He was probably just messing with me. I’m just being stupid.

Still, my legs felt a bit weak as I made my way into the kitchen. They were all sitting down and the only empty seat was next to Spencer. As I approached, he jumped up and pulled out the chair.

“Here let me.”

He gave me a bashful look, not at all like the look he gave my body moments ago in the living room. What is this guy’s deal?

I gave him a small smile and took a seat. He pushed me towards the table and sat down next to me.

Uncle David did his toast thing to be thankful for everyone being here, and then we started dishing up our food. There was so much to choose from that my plate became full almost immediately.

“So tell me,” I said to the man next to me, “What’s it like to be the BAU’s resident genius?”

Spencer glanced at me as he gathered food onto his plate.

“Well, I wouldn’t say that an IQ score or any amount of knowledge makes someone a genius. Not that both of those aren’t high for me, but I don’t like to quantify the term genius.”

He paused for a moment before continuing.

“But between you and me, it feels pretty good.”

I giggled and he smiled at me. He has a nice smile.

“Hey I made you laugh and it wasn’t at me. Maybe I’m getting somewhere with women.”

I traced the rim of my champagne glass before looking at him. I know I’d like to go somewhere with him...

“I don’t see how women aren’t all over you, Doctor. I mean. Have you looked in a mirror?”

Spencer chuckled and smiled, almost nervously.

“I’d rather look at you.”

My cheeks got hot and I blinked rapidly. Oh no. This is it. It’s happening.

But I hadn’t forgotten that look he gave me before we sat down. I hadn’t forgotten the way he undressed me with his eyes. If he wanted to mess with me then I would mess with him too.

I leaned over slowly so no one would notice and began talking in a low voice in his ear.

“What parts of me would you like to look at, Doctor?”

Spencer choked on his drink when I finished speaking. I leaned away feeling accomplished and with a painful twitch in my chest from trying not to lose my shit at him sputtering like an idiot.

But it would seem that karma is, in fact, a bitch.

“How about I start with those pretty tits of yours?”

It was my turn to choke on my drink this time. This earned me a few glances from the people across from me at the table.

“You two okay over there?” Emily asked us, having no clue what was really happening on our side of the table.

Spencer gave me a fake confused glance and then met Emily’s eyes.

“Of course, why wouldn’t we be?”

She shrugged and seemed to leave it at that, turning back to her conversation with JJ.

“How about...,” Spencer began next to me in a low voice so that no one would hear, “We have a little fun?”

I raised an eyebrow at him, not really sure what he meant by that.

He widened his eyes and looked me up and down in response as if to say, “You know exactly what I mean.”

I tried not to smile as big as I wanted to, so I settled on a sly grin in his direction to let him know I was game.

His body seemed to relax in relief almost, something I wasn’t expecting. Was he genuinely interested in me or was he just messing with me because I happened to be here?

I tried distracting myself from these thoughts and started actually eating, since we were at a dinner party after all.

A few minutes went by of idle conversation, although I wasn’t really listening. I responded in short sentences and nods in between bites of food, but my mind was elsewhere.

It wasn’t too long though, until my mind went straight to my thigh, where a hand could be felt slowly making its way up.

Trying not to make it obvious, I turned towards Spencer with a shocked look on my face. He wasn’t even looking at me, he was looking ahead and having a full conversation with Matt and Luke. How is he multitasking this well?

His hand- his very large and warm hand- made its way even farther up, snaking towards my center with a painfully slow pace.

I knew what he was planning, and I was ready for it. At least, I think I am.

His finger brushed against the edge of my panties and he paused. When I looked over at him, he had his chin casually resting on his other hand and was looking at me sideways. He raised an eyebrow to ask me if it was okay.

In response, I took his hand that was so close to where I wanted it to be, and brought it down so that he could feel the wet spot forming just from thinking about what he was getting ready to do.

I think this shocked him a little, so he cleared his throat and looked ahead, picking up another conversation with Tara.

He made his way back to where he was and began slipping fingers past the hem of my panties. They were warm and soft, but still, I shivered.

I tried my best to continue on as normal while people talked to me, but as soon as I felt the pad of his pointer finger stroking my folds, I choked on my words.

No one seemed to notice, so I continued on like nothing happened.

He was teasing me now, touching around my entrance but never going in it. How irritating.

I’m sure he sensed my frustration, since he chuckled under his breath and immediately shoved a finger inside me.

I inhaled sharply, not expecting the force or suddenness. This seemed to please him; at least I’m assuming he was pleased based on the grin that graced his features.

He continued working while he talked, never stopping the motions of going in and out of me. He even began rubbing my clit with another finger while he fingered me. He must be really good at piano. And guitar, for that matter.

It was starting to get a little warm, and my body began reacting to the way he was relentlessly rubbing my clit in hurried circles.

“Spencer,” I hissed so that no one else could hear.

“Hmmm?”

“What the fuck are you doing?”

“I believe I’m trying to make you cum on my fingers.”

My breath hitched in my throat as I felt my core tighten. I looked around to make sure no one had heard us. The coast seemed to be clear.

“You’re gonna pay for this, asshole,” I choked out.

This seemed to only fuel him. His fingers began relentlessly attacking my swollen bundle of nerves and they did not stop. Not even close. He only got faster and faster, and I have no idea how that was even possible to begin with.

I wanted to smack the smirk that appeared when I tightened around his fingers right off his stupid face.

His eyes roamed my sweaty, slightly red face and he slowly pulled his hand from my panties.

Spencer then turned back to his plate and picked up the last bit of his dinner roll that was left. He placed it in his mouth, along with the tips of his fingers that were just in my panties. He pushed the roll farther in his mouth so that his fingers were halfway in. Then he slowly withdrew them, his lips never leaving those damn fingers.

“Mmm Rossi,” Spencer began, turning away from me and to the man he called, “These rolls are really good. Did you make them yourself? I don’t think I’ve ever tasted anything like it.”

This time I choked on my own saliva. So of course, I had a coughing fit that drew everyone’s attention to me.

“Oh my gosh, (Y/N) are you okay? Take a sip of water!” Penelope told me in honest concern for my well being.

I finished coughing and took a long gulp from my glass. I only wished it was whiskey instead of water right now.

“I’m okay, really,” I said, holding my hands up in front of me, “Just... swallowed my food too fast.”

This seemed to satisfy everyone so they all turned back to each other, Spencer’s comment about the rolls forgotten.

“That’s what you get for calling me those mean names, princess,” Spencer murmured next to me.

I stayed silent in response. Two could play at this game.

Without hesitation, I placed my hand against his crotch. And it was... something. I’m not sure if he was that hard or just- that big. Either way, my heart skipped a beat. But I didn’t let that stop me.

I slipped my hand beneath the waistband of his pants and made contact with what I was looking for. I felt him twitch under my touch, but his face gave nothing away to the others at the table.

So I started working. Tracing the length of what I could reach, and rubbing along his shaft with precision.

He took in a sharp breath as I made my way closer to the tip, and he quickly cut a glance my way.

I paid him no mind as I continued, making sure to eat off my plate like normal so as not to draw suspicion. Looking around, I could see that most people were finishing up their food, so I didn’t really have a lot of time left. I started going faster, putting more pressure onto his dick as I went.

When I looked up to check the scene, I saw Spencer gripping his fork with white knuckles. He was holding on for dear life. Good.

It was then that a few people began to excuse themselves from the table to go mingle some more before dessert. Shit. I had to hurry.

I kept picking up speed, probably too much to be honest. But it worked. Spencer stiffened under my touch and a warm, wet spot was now forming in his pants, coating my fingers. He cleared his throat to try and drown out the noise he wanted so badly to make instead.

I took a deep breath, satisfied with my work, and slowly removed my hand from his pants. It was just us, Penelope, and my uncle left at the table. They were in the middle of a conversation anyway. Luck was on my side tonight.

Spencer excused himself in a hurry, and I waited a few minutes before doing the same. I had no idea where he went, so I just had to walk around and find him somehow. We had unfinished business.

A few minutes went by of me searching the halls, hopefully not drawing attention to myself. And then I found him, leaning against a wall and looking out the window in front of him.

When I approached him, I opened my mouth to speak, but before I could get any words out, he grabbed my wrist roughly and pulled me into a closet. Spencer shut the door quietly behind us, though I could tell that he wanted to slam it. Uh oh.

“What the hell was that?” he hissed through gritted teeth.

“I was just playing along! Isn’t that what we wanted to do from the beginning?”

Spencer ran a hand through his hair. Oh, how I wanted to do the same thing.

“Obviously. I’ve been wanting to fuck you senseless since I laid eyes on you.”

My heart skipped a beat and the pulse suddenly went down into my core instead.

“Well do it then,” I murmured while gripping onto his forearms. There was enough space in this closet for many different positions. I just wanted to be as close to him as possible.

“I don’t know if you know what you’re getting yourself into,” Spencer groaned while palming my ass roughly.

“Mmm, I don’t care. I’m on the pill, by the way. So I wanna feel you. All of you. Although I have a pretty strong feeling you’d get off on putting a baby in me, Doctor,” I whispered into his ear before pressing my chest against his. I felt his breathing stop for a split second.

“Shut up,” he growled. It seems I pushed a button.

“Make me.”

Without a word and without hesitation, Spencer shoved me against the wall behind me and locked his mouth onto mine.

It was better than I could’ve imagined. And I had imagined it a lot over the course of tonight.

His tongue immediately shoved past the barrier of my lips and teeth, finding shelter in my mouth. The groans that came from him could have undone me right there, so I held onto his shoulders for dear life. His hands found his way to my ass, and he pushed me against his erection. His very large, very intimidating erection. And then all too soon, he pulled away, a string of saliva and swollen lips the only evidence of what had just happened.

“Who said you were allowed to tease me, huh? You've been pushing my buttons all night, and now look at you. A writhing mess underneath me. Such a needy little thing, aren't you?"

I shivered as his words reached my ears. So he had noticed I was already falling apart once again.

“God,” he moaned into my neck as he pushed me against his dick.

I couldn’t help myself- I moaned with him. The friction of him against my pulsing core was almost too much to handle.

“You sound so good,” he growled in my ear.

We stopped suddenly when footsteps could be heard nearby. I glanced at Spencer in a panic and started to move away from him. But before I could, he hastily shoved his hand over my mouth.

"Oh no, we're not stopping. Not when it’s getting this good. So you better be quiet or else everyone will know what a naughty little slut you are. Understand?"

I whimpered against his fingers and nodded at him. He gave me a wicked smile in return.

"Good girl. Now take off your panties and wrap your legs around me so I can feel just how tight your cunt really is. I have a feeling my dick will feel a lot better inside you rather than my fingers.”

With shaking hands, I slid my panties off and kicked them away.

Spencer must have enjoyed what I did because he licked his lips eagerly, never breaking his gaze towards me. Before I made my way back over to him, I couldn’t help but notice how hard he already was. This wouldn’t take long. Less of a chance we would get caught, thankfully.

He pulled down his pants and boxers roughly, quickly stepping out of them like I had done moments ago. He made no motion to remove the clothes on his top half, solidifying the thought that this would be over quickly. How bittersweet.

Without another word, I practically jumped into his arms, our mouths meeting immediately and moving against the other ferociously. But all of a sudden, he pulled away, and it pissed me off more than it should have.

When I saw why he did though, I wasn’t angry anymore.

He had picked up the belt he had been wearing from the floor, and was holding it in front of me with a dangerous look in his eye.

“I don’t trust you to be quiet. Open,” Spencer said in a gravelly huff.

I did as he asked without hesitation, and he roughly shoved the leather belt into my mouth, commanding me to bite down on it.

Oh shit.

Without missing a beat, he picked me up and laid me down on the floor, extremely gently compared to how he had previously put the belt in my mouth.

“Good thing you’re already so wet,” Spencer purred, looking down at my exposed core. “Otherwise, this might hurt a little. We don’t have a lot of time.”

Unfortunately, it did still hurt. But God, did it hurt so good.

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silvia7272 · 4 years ago

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Miraculess Ladybug Salt AU: You Always Liked To Play With Fire ~ The Prologue

Hey everyone, this is a new story I wanted to introduce to you all.

I’ve been putting everything in a massive word doc because I had so many ideas and finally settled on putting it out today because it's my birthday. 29th, I may have updated it late.

Yay.

So as a special treat, here’s a new series with a few original characters, ones you know or have been changed ever so slightly to fit, in a Miraculess world. (haha, you see what I did there? No… I’ll leave)

Also for anyone new, I’m a multi-shipper so I ship my characters with a bunch of other people, as I like Lukanette (Fandom Version), Daminette (Fandom Version), Felinette (PV Fandom Version), Marichat (Fandom Version) and I guess Rosannette. What’s Rosannette? Well, I guess you’ll have to find out, won’t you? (also no that’s not a typo, it is Rosannette)

Also, I guess this will just have the usual salt, maybe more, I don’t know. I kinda want it to just be about these two.

Word Count: 3912

Note: I haven’t tagged anyone just in case, this is a different series from my other, I just got really excited and wanted to write it. If you still wish to be tagged for this story please say and specify.

Also: This is a salt story, it will have OOC moments from everyone so it will be classed as an AU. If you don’t want to read that’s fine, and have a nice day.

Well, I hope you’ll enjoy it.

This is for all the people that might prefer Rosinette (like from the songfic) instead, I don’t mind but it won’t be in my main series, so I hope this will satisfy you.

(Word of warning, I believe this will be an AU where the Miraculous don’t exist, and non-canon to my official story and I believe mentions of a panic attack might be lightly mentioned, don’t know if it is, but if someone could check and I’ll make the warning clearer that would be nice)

Summary:

(Fire doesn't exactly have anything to do with this story I just really liked the title)

Note: This book contains OOC scenes of Miraculous Ladybug as well as a ton of salt, so if you don't like that stuff you may scroll past and have a nice day.

In a world with no Miraculous, no Hawkmoth and no Ladybug, how does our little heroine do?

Well, it usually would be hanging out with her friends, as any other teenager would do...

But, of course, this wasn't normal.

This was reality. It was cold, hard and definitely not welcome.

So, when this girl wishes to have some kind of adventure in her boring, mundane life...

How long does it take for her to regret it?

***

Memories, it's such a simple word yet it holds so much meaning. One could either wish to forget everything from their life, and simply move forward so they could pursue their dreams. Or, simply relish in the past when they remembered how great it was, all the friends they had made, all the moments they had which were too good to let go.

But, I guess sometimes, you did have to let go. But let go of what exactly? Let go of all the happiness once you knew how it would end? No that would be too harsh and you’d turn bitter. Let go of all the sadness? But, wasn’t it an important life lesson to learn, sometimes, you just have to be sad because of the situation at hand. No amount of croissants or macarons would be able to lift your spirits back.

Or maybe that was too much of a specific example.

That was what Marinette had thought, staring at an empty glass so intently the man behind made himself disperse from the amount of time the unblinking woman just stared and never flinched.

She guessed it hadn’t all been bad, she at least had some form of happiness before it was violently ripped away, but part of her wondered, what would’ve happened if she never felt that type of happiness before? Would she have felt like she had for so long, was it the fact that she knew what being happy was like before worse? Because, as depressing as it sounded, if she hadn’t been as happy, would she have been as upset?

She would never know, she couldn’t go back in time since that was impossible, but the thought always came and went whenever she was alone with her thoughts.

So… Maybe it was for the best, that she was able to remember what real happiness felt like.

The tight feeling in your chest, butterflies in your stomach, face being so red anyone would worry if the bluenette had caught a cold instead-

Wait- this was an oddly specific kind of happiness she felt, surely she must’ve gotten mixed up with some other felling right?

Right!?

So, how come she was feeling this- incredibly bright heat from her cheeks when she felt a hand on her shoulder?

We may need to go back several years.

***

In a classroom in Collège Françoise Dupont, a young pigtailed girl sat at the back, tears silently falling onto her knees and bawled up fists. She didn’t see any use of wiping them away, since they would just come back anyway, and it would be useless to just repeat that endless cycle. She hadn’t looked around to see anyone else’s faces, they would either just ignore her, or taunt her for just crying, for just being human.

Now you may be wondering why she was so upset? What possibly could’ve happened to make our very cheerful and sunshiny girl become so hunched over she was practically crying her eyes out? Well, the answer lies on the one girl at the front. The one girl sitting in an all too familiar place. The one girl who just ruined all of her newfound friendships.

Lila Rossi.

And boy had she hated that name.

She couldn’t stand that smirk, that thief, that scandal!

And what exactly did she do?

She lied.

Now you may be thinking that may not have been all that bad, but it was.

Every time she opened her mouth, everyone would fawn around her, even Alix, the one who seriously couldn’t care about anything to do with glamourous celebrities, was hanging on the edge of her seat to hear one of Lila’s so-called stories. She just had to guess Lila held up a treat over her head to keep her being obedient enough.

She hated Lila so much because she was just using everyone to get an easy life at school, the fastest way towards popularity she guessed, but why she thought this was the fastest way was beyond her.

She hated Lila because she had spread so many lies, so many rumours, all about her. All so out of the realm it was such a surprise they all believed her without a shred of evidence.

It had happened so fast, one day, they were all friends, smiling and laughing like there was no tomorrow, the next, she was surrounded by those faces, those faces of disgust and hatred. As if she had committed even the worst of crimes, more so than Chloé, speaking of, who was absolutely enjoying this show.

But undoubtedly. What she hated about Lila the most.

Was that technically, she didn’t have to do that much.

After so many sessions of crying, and just not believing that they could possibly leave her, a friend, like that, she started to reason with herself, that maybe it wasn’t just Lila that pushed them all away.

She thought back to before.

Before they were friends, before Alya even came to Collège, she had been alone. Chloé had always gone out of her way to relentlessly bully her, and no one wanted to be friends with her with Chloé around. So she accepted it, just hoping one day, karma would seek justice and she’d be put in her place.

So she waited.

And waited.

And-

Gave up.

She accepted defeat after all the years. After the meaningless conversations with teachers that she should try and be the bigger person and rise above all of her hatred for her. Simply because they couldn’t do anything. They had no power over the mayor's Daughter. So they just let her continue her reign over the school.

She didn’t have any powers to stop her.

But then, a light of hope came.

The new girl, with ombre brown and red hair, glasses and hazel eyes. A striped t-shirt and an undeniable Aura that reeked of confidence.

As Marinette was being targeted by Chloé yet again, she came in, and for once, stood up to her. Chloé! No fear in her eyes as she, Alya, grabbed her, Marinette’s, hand and walked off to the desk at the front.

She couldn’t believe it, someone stood up to Chloé! She thought it had only been a myth, a legend, but that right there, it was real.

They became friends faster than the speed of sound.

And soon, she too was able to stand up for herself. Reclaiming her original seat back, and citing a quote her new friend had said… Then everyone had wanted to become friends… And, she felt ecstatic.

Finally. It finally came. The day she had prayed for had come. She felt nothing but pure joy.

And she didn’t want that feeling to go away.

She was terrified that the feeling would go away.

So, she thought of making sure that feeling wouldn’t go away.

That’s why she made so many ‘spare’ macaroons to give away, she didn’t spend her free nights staying up and making them, no way.

That’s why she provided so many free gifts to her friends. What? Her hand has a plaster, no she just tripped and hit herself, it had nothing to do with the gifts. Don’t worry, try your gloves on, do they fit?

That’s why she was late for class. Huh, no I’m fine, I’m not tired… But I might just rest my eyes for a bit, wake me up when something important happens.

That’s why she was so happy to realise Adrien wasn’t as bad as Chloé, the small gentle soul that he had, to graciously provide her with his own umbrella, how selfless.

And that’s why she held onto the idea of Adrien so much. The idea that he was perfect. The idea that she was in love with him.

So, she held onto it.

No, she clung to that idea because she didn’t want any chance to let go. So, she may have gone a bit overboard, with the whole, schedule thing, and the phone… And the schemes. But she believed it was harmless. No one else seemed to have any problems with it, so she believed she was in the clear.

Until she wasn’t.

And Lila used that to her advantage.

She remembered that day so vividly, just like all those other memories. The day she came. The day she would find herself in the same predicament from before, it hadn’t been that long since she had been friends with everyone in fact. She was still getting used to it, and her feelings grew as each day passed by.

She remembered when Lila introduced herself to the whole class, and at first glance, anyone would just think she was an innocent little girl. But behind that smile, behind those eyes, held a sinister intention.

She, in less than an hour, had everyone wrapped around her little finger.

Even her.

She’d been on a private jet?

Had a song written about her?

And saved Jagged Stone’s cat?

There was no way Adrien would fall for her now.

…So maybe she had been jealous of that girl before she had done anything. But she had every reason to. She, Lila, was pressed against Adrien who was happily talking to her. The love of her life! She had to do something, even if Alya had given her a disappointed look she just had to stop them from confessing their love to each other, it was inevitable now, so she followed after them to the park. If they even got too close, she was sure she could just conveniently interrupt, she just had to wait for the perfect moment, she only had a couple of hours before they would fall in love, get married, have three kids and a hamster named-

“Wow Adrien, you’re so nice to me. Y’know I really thought moving here would be just like all the other times. But you’ve really made me enjoy my first day Adrien.” She smiled so sickly sweet Marinette wanted to hurl, how dare she just hold onto his arm like that, so affectionately!

“Its no problem Lila, that’s what friends are for.” She smiled, hugging him so fast they almost lost their balance from sitting on the bench, before seemingly giving him a quick peck on his cheek, only for Adrien to turn his head towards her.

And they kissed.

However, it wasn’t a simple quick kiss, by all means, Adrien should’ve realised his mistake and pulled away.

But he didn’t, what felt like forever lasted a minute. One minute to realise that it should’ve been an accident. But they stayed like that.

It- it was over, wasn’t it? This wasn’t her being melodramatic, she just knew how it would turn out. They were going to fall in love so soon, she wouldn’t have a chance.

If only she had seen the look Lila gave, spotting her retreated form from behind a small trash can, the smirk would’ve given her shivers.

***

Getting back to Collège had taken longer than expected. Maybe it was the small amount of dread knowing she may have lost her love for good. Sure, there might have been Kagami as well, she had tried to sabotage her chances with Adrien too, but it always worked out in the end, Adrien always smiling as Kagami’s cheeks burned with redness. But to say they were friends afterwards.

Marinette would cringe at the fact she always felt so relieved afterwards reflecting years later at her choices. But she had always believed she would still have a chance.

Until today.

Lila came, and took him away, within hours.

And she couldn’t stop it.

Walking along the stairs to her class she had to keep her head held high, if she showed weakness, that would mean she was sad, she wasn’t sad, she couldn’t be sad. She still had all of her friends after all.

Maybe now, they could do more activities, after crying and eating a ton of ice cream of course with cheesy movies to brighten her mood up.

But, this would only be the beginning of that negative feeling.

Opening the door, she would be fully aware of something terribly wrong. At the front of the classroom, a crowd had formed, and a crowd that would soon become a routine in this classroom.

But a crowd formed around a girl, the new girl, Lila. She had seemed to be covering her eyes, water dripping down her eyes, no wait they were tears. What had happened?

She didn’t realise she had spoken those few words before heads turned around, looking- no glaring at her, why were they-? What had she done?

“Marinette I knew you could be a tad jealous but to actually do something like that” Huh? Oh no, Lila must’ve noticed she followed them, how embarrassing, and definitely not the best first impression she could’ve made.

Before she could apologise, before she could explain she really didn’t mean any harm. She didn’t have time to.

“To threaten her to never talk to Adrien again because she likes him. Well, I never thought you’d put your jealousy out like this.”

What!?-

No- she didn’t- she, just saw them kiss.

She didn’t even speak with her.

Why would she say this?

Why didn’t she say anything?

Why wasn’t she defending herself?

Why was she letting them believe that so easily?

Why

Why.

Why was it so hard to breathe?

Running out of the classroom was easier than looking at all of those faces. Those accusatory faces. She hated it, she couldn’t do- defend- explain.

She- just-

She-

She was in a room?

The bathroom.

It didn’t matter why, as long as she was alone, she could cry to her heart's content.

The fear seeped over her just like that first time, knowing Chloé had won and would never stop, she had lost and lost everything.

Everything she had worked so hard to obtain.

Everything she had worked so hard to keep.

To make sure she didn’t have to let go.

And now it had gone.

Because it was then Marinette realised. That girl, those tears hadn’t been real, there she saw her eyes hadn’t been red or puffy, the tears’ dried up rather quickly, and the inconsistent wails made it very likely she was only doing them for effect and sympathy.

That girl. Was lying!

That must’ve been it.

No way could she be telling the truth. And no way could ‘I saw her around me and Adrien’ be translated to ‘she threatened me, I’m so scared of her’

Maybe, maybe with that, there was hope.

If she could just simply convince her friends that she was lying, then everything would be all sorted.

And maybe she and Adrien-

Wait, she was getting a little ahead of herself there.

Wiping her tears away she proudly opened the door, ready to face her fears.

Too bad her fears were much much stronger.

No matter how many times she would try to prove her innocence, it became worse.

When she tried going to the teachers, they bat an eye with her responses. Obviously not taking her seriously, and just believing it to be some teenage drama, she was pushed out of the classroom and told to try and just be nicer and make friends with her.

That was harsh but expected.

She tried talking with Alya, she turned away from her. Not wanting to hear anything come out of a crazy stalkers mouth.

That had hurt.

She tried talking with any of her other friends, y’know, the ones who ‘always’ had her back.

They too turned from her. Believing Lila without a doubt, I mean, they knew how jealous Marinette could get, it wasn’t that much of a stretch to think she would jump to that, considering the situation.

That felt like a punch to her gut.

She tried talking with Adrien, even if she did stutter and always lose her words around him. But this was more important, than a silly crush.

She wasn’t used to saying that.

But, the way he looked at her, it felt like- pity.

He told her he already knew.

He already knew? Wait- then why didn’t he say anything?

Because, as the naïve little boy stood so tall and ‘innocent’ he simply wanted to help her through his own way.

“She was only lying for attention,” He said.

“Once she finally makes some real friends, she’ll stop,” He said!

“In the meantime, you should really drop this, it would be just awful if you were to hurt Lila again. After all, she hasn’t hurt anyone, she doesn’t mean any harm”

She stood in shock.

This was the boy she had fell for?

This spineless- foolish- Son of a-

“So please Marinette, don’t cause too many problems for her, you shouldn’t be so harsh on her. If you really value our friendship, you’ll do it.” He smiled before walking off, leaving her to her thoughts.

That felt like someone had walked over to her, ripped out her heart and squashed it in the palm of her hands, all while grinning.

Why, why wasn’t she able to see before? Did her heart want to deceive her by falsifying all of his qualities? Was she just blind to bear witness to him not being as perfect as she made him out to be? Was it because she just couldn’t entertain the thought of letting go?

She didn’t know, she just hated this negative feeling. It felt so familiar. She wanted it to go away.

Unfortunately, that feeling would only grow for months.

And it was about to be worse.

“Huh? Marinette? Why are you crying? If this is about what happened this morning, don’t worry, I’ll forgive you” She was crying? Huh, when did that happen?

Whatever, more importantly.

“W-What, no you don’t have to forgive me because I did nothing wrong” Lila’s worried expression faltered for a bit before she grew ‘scared’

“H-Hey, I didn’t realise you felt like that. Oh, you poor thing” Her eyebrow snapped, she seriously didn’t like being called a thing.

“Save it, I can’t prove it but I know you’re just lying to everyone here. And you need to stop, you’re going to hurt everyone when they find out. You need to confess” Her face faltered again, but it never recovered, her once innocent eyes hardened as she smirked, a look that seemed almost natural, as if she had perfected it by looking into a mirror countless times.

“Oh, so you’ve finally figured it out? Figures, I was told you were the smartest one, and it seems like I wasn’t wrong”

“What?” Lila sighed, maybe she had put too much faith in her being the smartest.

“Ugh, you’re so young Marinette. I haven’t told the truth all my life, why the hell should I start now?” Marinette was stunned, why, why was she telling her this?

“Honestly, and I thought Adrien was naïve. Look, I’m not here to play games, I have this whole routine wrapped up. So just sit back, stay out of my way and I might consider making another lie that would benefit you.” It was an offer any reasonable person wouldn’t refuse.

Unfortunately for her, she didn’t want a reasonable offer.

Marinette stared, she was- she was fully aware of what she was doing?

“B-But you’re going to end up hurting everyone, you need to stop, please!” She begged.

Lila frowned.

She was just like all the rest.

“I don’t care”

Huh?

“I said I don’t care, seriously don’t you get it yet? I’m here to win by all means necessary. You were in the way so I took you out. They are just little trophies to remind you of my victory. You had your chance”

She stood still, this situation felt so familiar, but she had to stay strong, she couldn’t give up now. If reasoning with her won’t work, then maybe understanding might, and she could work with that.

“Why are you doing this, do you really not care about when you get caught? About how everyone will feel when they know you promised nothing in the end?” She hoped she would see some sense. They were good people, they shouldn’t be manipulated into this, she was sure they would’ve been friends regardless of what she had promised.

“It’s because I can”

“What do you mean?”

“What I mean, dear sweet Marinette, is that because I am able to, I can. I’ve had years of practice with this, and the result always has me at the top, all that oppose me either stay at the bottom or beg for mercy from moi. It's always a delight to see their hope diminish. To realise they would do anything but to be alone.”

Alone- that word, that word stuck with her so much.

She didn’t want that- but she didn’t want her friends to be tricked either.

“Besides, you made it so easy for me, in reality. You only have yourself to blame”

“What- I didn’t even-” A finger was wagged in front of her face.

“Ah ah ah. You really should know better than that. A calendar full of Adrien’s schedule? A box full of presents for Adrien? Sabotaging dates? You’d think I’d have made it all up, it only made the end result so much greater. Seriously Marinette, I don’t even know if I’m the bad guy here, what you’ve done really isn’t appropriate behaviour. But I do know of a great therapist, they helped me through such a hard time” Lila continued to talk as Marinette zoned out. She was the bad guy? No- no that couldn’t be, that was just a harmless crush, that was just what normal teenaged girls did.

But- if it was. Then why didn’t anyone tell her it was wrong, she didn’t mean for it to be wrong. She just didn’t want them to leave, she just didn’t want to be abandoned again.

Why didn’t they say? Why didn’t she realise?

Why did she know?

Lila must’ve seen the shock as she giggled, not at all innocent.

“It was so easy manipulating all of them into telling me about this ‘crush’, once they realised just how crazy it actually was, they had no problem seeing you for the crazy stalker you are.” Lila flicked her hair up away, only for it to come back, but it didn’t matter, she made her point.

Not having the energy to look up, she would’ve noticed Lila had left her behind, laughing too, because no one had been there to overhear their absolutely private conversation. Her overall plan would not be undiscovered today, tomorrow, or the next. It wouldn’t be discovered ever.

Because she was in control.

Marinette, wasn’t in control.

Just like before, that hollow feeling from before, it was back.

And so much worse.

She hated Lila, because she made her realise, she was right. All along. And she just had to accept it.

And gave up trying.

She reverted back to how she was at the beginning of the year.

The quiet girl that no one paid attention to, alone, in the back, with nothing but her sketchbook.

Gone were the childish pigtails, it was for the better, no one said anything about then anymore.

Because she realised.

She wasn’t a child anymore.

She couldn’t be, not after this.

***

Hey, so I guess this was more like another prologue, so I’ll have to apologise if it seems just like the other one, but the premise is still the same so yeah.

And I think I might like the idea of a non-Miraculous world; it seems interesting since I feel like Marinette wouldn’t have as much of a confidence boost since she wouldn’t be Ladybug, please tell me that would make sense.

I think it’s interesting for how much would change and stay the same, and my OC will be making an entrance next time, however, here they are all like 13-14. The next chapter will have a time skip of 3 years, oh and Lila came in late, like around Season 3 late ok? So they already know about Kagami and Luka.

Also if you’re confused about anything feel free to ask any questions.

Cya next time.

Note: Please tell me if I should add anything else to the card, there will be one of these cards for all 15 chapters, however, because I have uni work all updates will be slower because I really need to focus on the uni stuff, then I might be able to upload quicker.

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varianfortunate · 4 years ago

Text

Blinding Tears (Jostonio Angst)

Highschool teacher Hanahaki Star tear AU! the whole story is from Joseph’s POV

I see him again. Antonio, his long black locks fluttering behind him. He has them tied in a ponytail today. Probably to keep them out of his face, though that’s pointless, because he has a long strand in front of his face. I glance at him for a moment. He’s smiling as usual. I continue down the hall of our college. We’re both teachers here, and I head to my dorm. I put in the key when I hear someone speeding down the dorm halls towards me.

“JOSEPH DID YOU TAKE MY ROUGE LIPSTICK AGAIN?! I ALREADY TOLD YOU THAT COLOR LOOKS BAD ON YOU!” Mary yells, running toward me.

“Mary, I already told you, IT’S MINE NOW!” I yell. Suddenly, Michiko enters from the elevator. Me and Michiko are neighbors, and Mary instantly cleans herself up and smiles.

“Hi Michiko!” Mary waves.

“Hello Mary, hello Joseph. The lipstick is Mary’s Joseph, give it back.” Michiko says.

“Fine Michiko…” I say. I open the door to my room, walk in, and lock it. There’s no way in hell I’m giving it back it looks a m a z i n g on me. After about five minutes I hear Mary yell through my door.

“HOESEPH YOU BRING ME MY LIPSTICK! IT WAS A SPECIAL EDITION!” She shouts while banging on my door with her fists. I hum with a smile and make some tea.

“Hmm, I wonder what that was, must’ve been the wind!” I exclaim, accidentally spilling hot water on myself.

“FUCK!” I yell, clutching my burnt arm.

“KARMA!” Mary yells through the door. I hear her walk away and I hear Michiko enter her dorm. I sigh and run some cold water over my red arm. I don’t know why- but at that moment, the rainbow tears that plague me fall from my eyes.

“Shit-” I start, trying to wipe them off. I hold one in my hand and let it drift in my palm. I must’ve started crying from the pain. The more I move the tear the more hues it becomes, shifting from pinks to blues to pastel oranges. And then I let it fall into the sink, and as it falls, it glimmers into other colors. I sigh again and finish making my tea once I stop crying. My vision is always really blurry after I cry, but it tends to lighten up. My eyesight isn’t as good as it was prior though. I pour my tea into the cup and put in an earl gray tea bag. I used to use the leaves when I lived with my parents, but I can’t afford them anymore, so I don’t buy them. I remember drinking Earl Gray with Claude… No. I shouldn’t think of- Shit. His death anniversary is next month.

I walk out of my dorm. It’s time for study hall. I told Mike he needed to study, as with Naib, and Norton and Ganji and Aesop. Those stupid children. As I’m lost in my thoughts, I run into Antonio.

“Oh, Joseph, I apologize, I didn’t see where I was going,” He says in his Italian accent. I look down and notice him holding his violin case.

“It’s alright, I was lost in thought and didn’t see you” I smile.

“Oh, Joseph, I was wondering-” Antonio starts before he quickly grabs a handkerchief and puts it to his mouth and starts coughing.

“Antonio?” I ask.

“It’s nothing,” He shoves the cloth into his pocket.

“Would you like to hear me play Violin?” he asks.

“Uh sure! Let me just cancel study hall first,” I say.

“Alright,” He says. I pull out my phone and send out a remind to my students.

Alright everyone! Study hall is cancelled today!

I only receive a response from Aesop, he just thanked me. I follow Antonio to the woods behind the school. I know there’s benches set up around here, I have an assignment for my photography elective that has them take pictures here. We stop at a bench. Most of the fall leaves are gone, leaving a cold chilly wind and bare branches. I sit on the bench, and Antonio puts his case next to me. He opens the case and pulls out his Violin. It has a weaving vine design on the side. He takes out his bow and starts getting into position.

He lifts his bow to the strings and starts to play 24 Caprices by Niccolo Paganini, whom Antonio just happens to share a last name with. His fingers fly on the neck of the Violin as he plays the complicated tune. I pull out my camera from my bag, which I had brought for study hall. I snap a picture of Antonio playing the Violin. I notice he’s only playing the last part, as the entirety of the song is about an hour and a half long. I start to cry. I don’t know why. Maybe it’s because I know… at some point, maybe soon, I won’t be able to see him play the violin like this. I won’t be able to see… Him.

“Joseph?! Are you alright?!” Antonio quickly rushes over to me.

“I-I’m fine, I was just- It’s nothing…” I say quickly rubbing away the tears so he can’t see. I look up at him and I can’t even make him out. I blink a few times and he comes into a slightly blurry focus. He’s frowning. The first time I’ve see him and he wasn’t smiling.

“Joseph… Do you want to go back?” Antonio asks me.

“O-Okay,” I say. We head back to the teacher dorms.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Today was like any other day. Mike threw a paper plane at Norton, but hit Naib and Naib grabbed it and started yelling at Mike. A regular Math and photography class.

I walk into my dorm. Mary always kind of backs off during this week. The week Claude died. She knew him too, but she doesn’t like thinking about him. Because he died tragically. I look at the face down picture frame on the table at the entrance to my room. The place I put my keys, my bags, shoes, things like that. I pick up the picture. I have to squint to make it out. I’ve been fearing this week. Ever since I contracted this disease about five months ago, I was fearing this week, because I knew I would cry a lot. The picture is of two boys, at their high school graduation. They look the same. Both with fluffy white hair. Though, one boy has it in a side ponytail. That was Claude. We looked virtually the same. However when he contracted tuberculosis, he coughed all the time, unlike me, and so you could always tell us apart for those many months.

I put the picture down. They said it was tuberculosis, but I know the real reason, and the real reason he didn’t get better. It was Hanahaki, and he didn’t want the surgery. He wanted to continue loving the one who had rejected him. His flower was the daffodil. I put them at his grave each year, and I cry. I sob at his headstone. I’m startled by the blur of my vision. No, not now, I don’t want to cry now. No… If I start I’m not going to stop, and I just want to see him… I want to see Antonio again before my vision disappears forever.

I wipe the tears away in a frantic rush and search for the picture I took of Antonio a week ago. I find it, and start crying again because I know that one day I won’t be able to see him. I just wish I could see him forever. Ever since I started my job here a few years ago, he’s taken my breath away. I imagined myself as Joseph Paganini, but I know that it’ll never happen. I’ll be Joseph Desaulniers till the day I die.

I cry myself into a restless sleep, and when I wake up photos are scattered around me. Old pictures of me and Claude, pictures of Antonio from the few times we hung out together, and pictures of me and Mary and then, the picture. The picture of me, Mary, and Claude. The one where we’re ten, and I just learned how to use a camera. The first picture I took. I get up from my bed and look at the day. It’s Sunday, and Claude's death anniversary.

I grab my coat and walk out of the building, my camera bag at my side. I buy some Daffodils and take the bus to the Cemetery Claude is buried at. I get off the bus and head in. I go down the rows, and rows, and rows of graves, until I reach one of the gated areas. I insert the key. This is the section that all my family is buried in. I pass by quite a few graves until I reach Claude’s. I place down the Daffodils, and I feel the tears brimming my eyes. Claude… Why didn’t you just get the surgery? Why did you keep on loving someone who rejected you?! Why… Why did this happen to you?!

The tears flow down my face like rivers, the crystalline shimmer of their numerous hues falling on the ground below me. I cry there for about an hour before heading back, knowing Antonio wouldn’t be at the dorms for he had taken leave for two weeks for his family.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I cried too much that week, and I cried the next week for fear of not being able to see Antonio when he returned. I can barely see.

I’m standing in front of my bathroom mirror. My vision is so blurry I can’t see myself no matter how much I squint, and there’s dark patches in the corners of my vision, as if I’ve put a vignette on my vision. I poke and prod at my face trying to feel what it looks like.

“I just… wanted to see him… one more time, one more time in reality see him properly, one last time,” I say. I bang my hand on my sink and it bleeds. I must have bent it weird. The text to speech turns plays on my phone.

“Antonio Paganini heart said, Hey, I’m back, can I come visit you in your room?” Siri says with her British voice.

“Hey Siri, reply with, Sure, I’ll open the door for you,” I say. Siri replies for me, and I clean up my hand before heading to the door. I open it, and Antonio is already there.

“Hello Joseph,” he says.

“Hi Antonio,” I smile.

“Come on in,” I say, moving out of the way to make way for him.

“Joseph your room-” He starts.

“Ah- sorry about the mess, It was my twin brother’s death anniversary last week and I got caught up in grading,” I try to cover up the mess which is actually due to my blindness.

“It’s alright,” He says.

We hang out for several hours before he heads back to his dorm. When he goes back I cry again because I wanted to see him clearly. My vision doesn’t un-blur this time. I lay on my bed and look up at the ceiling. Antonio’s dorm is above mine. I wonder what he’s doing…

Before I know it, I drift off to sleep, not knowing what would await me in the morning.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“JOSEPH, JOSEPH WAKE UP!” Mary yells, shaking me awake. She used her spare key.

“H..Huh..?” I ask groggily, opening my eyes to a blurry Mary.

“Joseph, Antonio… Antonio is dead!” She says.

“What..?” I ask. There’s no way… Antonio isn’t-

“I just saw him yesterday! How could- how-” I feel my tears welling up in my eyes.

“Mary… You’re joking aren’t you?” I say.

“No. I would never be that cruel Joseph. You know that. He wrote you a note…” She says handing it to me.

“Mary… Can you read it for me… I… I won’t be able to see it…” I say. She doesn’t question it, and takes it from my hands.

She inhales, and starts reading.

“This letter is meant for Joseph Desaulniers eyes only,

Dear Joseph,

I’m sorry this is how you had to find out, but I have Hanahaki disease. It has spread through my whole lungs which means it will impair my breathing, and I will soon pass away. I know you have Star Tear disease, and I hope it wasn’t for me, because your vision is not worth losing for me. Joseph, you are a beautiful, the most beautiful person I have ever seen, and I wish I could spend the rest of our lives experiencing that beauty with you. Though as of now, that won’t happen. My flowers are red roses meaning love and passion. I hope that you are not too distressed by this news. I hope that you can make it through this, and that you’ll forget about me. I hope that we meet again. I love you Joseph Desaulniers.

Love,

Antonio Paganini”

That’s the end of the letter, and I cry again, but, I notice, my tears don’t shimmer with their many hues, they’re just… tears, no glimmer of the stars, no crystalline clear shimmer. Just… water.

“I’m sorry Joseph… I’ll give you space…” Mary says, leaving the letter next to me and leaving. I grab the letter and clutch it to my chest. I cry for what seems like hours, and then I draft a response.

Dear Antonio,

I love you too. I’m sorry I didn’t confess sooner. If I had just been faster, I would have been able to save you in time, and I wouldn’t have lost my vision. I do not even know if I am writing this properly for I cannot see my words. If by some miracle you were to come back to life, I would hug you, and hope to see you clearly through my own two eyes. I wish to tell you how much I yearned and loved you. I can never forget you Antonio. You are my love, you are the breath that fills my lungs, you are my will to get up in the morning, you, Antonio, are my world. My everything. And I love you more than I could express with words. My tears are regular, but they now burn me, as my tears are for you, in mourning for the love we could’ve had, mourning, you. I love you Antonio Paganini, and I miss you.

Love,

Joseph Desaulniers

Word Count; 2432

Written by: Basketoffrogs on wattpad (Aka me) (Can find the fully edited detailed with bold and italics for more drama tomorrow)

#jostonio #joseph desaulnier #antonio paganini #violinist #photographer #idv #identityv #idv fanfic #jostonio fanfic #antonio x joseph

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snakeboistan · 4 years ago

Text

Aftermath Of ‘Assassination Time’

We stan best boi and best friend Sugino

TW: mentions of suicidal thoughts

The air was stilted when Sugino and Nagisa trudged home, the only noises cutting through their tense mutual silence were soft footsteps emitted by trainer-clad feet. Usually that was not the case. Usually, their walks home from school were the highlight of Nagisa’s day - where he can hang out with his best friend after another day of hating every single thing about 3-E and just talk about whatever they wanted to with no judgement whatsoever. Usually, Sugino would look at him with fond amusement instead of doing everything he could to avoid his eyes. However, usually, Nagisa didn’t try to blow himself up in front of the entire class.

‘He’s mad at me,’ Nagisa thought, swallowing as he gripped the strap of his schoolbag tighter, ‘I made him mad. And now I’ve lost another friend.’

He supposes he should have seen it coming - he had the ability to drive people away. It’s just that, well, he didn’t think that it would’ve been so soon. His dad left when he was eight, Karma after a few months of knowing him - he’d only been helping Sugino practice his baseball pitches for two weeks and he’d already mucked it up.

“I’m not mad at you,” Sugino’s voice cut into his self-deprecating thoughts, effectively stopping the downward spiral that Nagisa knew was coming. Great, another reason why Sugino should not want to be around him. Nagisa spared a glance at the other boy only to find that said boy was frowning at the floor. His eyes darted downwards to see that his friend’s(? is he even allowed to call him that now?) free hand was clenched at his side, like he was trying to hold back a paroxysm of emotion. Nagisa did that. He made the calm, perpetually smiling Sugino Tomohito - the only person since first year who approached a nobody like him and wanted to be his friend - almost lose his composure, “you’re thinking so loudly that I can practically hear your thoughts, you know.”

“You seemed pretty mad,” Nagisa whispered under his breath, voice so small and fragile he was amazed that it didn’t break. He remembered how after the … incident, Sugino turned to him and told him to get ready to walk home with a terseness that the blunette wasn’t even aware the baseball lover was capable of. The look on his face was so serious - it was as if the softer edges of his face became sharper, more refined, and it honestly scared him. At least when his mum shifted, it was predictable, he was used to it, but with Sugino, he felt as if a bucket of ice water was dumped onto his head. His head was hung low, waiting for the blow to strike, for Sugino to tell him that he was too much, that he can’t be friends with someone who was as crazy as him, that his mum was right - he was nothing but a burden-

“I’m mad,” Sugino stated, “but not at you. I’m mad at Terasaka and his gang for even thinking of making you a suicide bomber, for just disregarding your life like that - like-like you were disposable. I’m mad at whatever it was that made you think that you should go along with it. I’m mad at the fact that I just watched my best friend blow himself up and I couldn’t do anything about it. And I’m mad at the fact that you looked so confused when it was over.”

“Wha-what?” Nagisa spluttered out. Of all the things he was expecting to hear, it certainly wasn’t that. Sugino was breathing heavily, face scrunched up, and his clenched fists were shaking. Nagisa stopped himself from saying anything that might make things worse.

“You think I didn’t see your face when Koro-Sensei saved you? Like you weren’t expecting it? Like it surprised you?” Sugino looked at him, navy eyes glistening with a thousand emotions, “Like when you tied that grenade around your neck, you weren’t expecting to wake up?”

“I-” and what could Nagisa say to that? That Sugino was wrong? That it was all a big misunderstanding and that he’s reading too much into an assassination attempt that would’ve saved the world? That no one would’ve noticed anyway?

“Did you hear? Nagisa’s headed for E-Class.”

That no one would have cared?

“I better delete his email from my address book. Don’t want people to think that I associate with him.”

That no one wants to be around him?

“Dad, where are you going?”

“I’m sorry, Nagisa. I just can't stay here anymore.”

That he’s not good enough?

“Hey, Karma do you-”

“Nagisa, I told you. I’m busy.”

“Bu-but we haven’t hung out in weeks. Did I do any-”

“Nagisa, just go away and leave me alone.”

“Oh, I-I’m sorry for disturbing you.”

That all he does is mess up and it would be much better without him?

“Because of you my evaluation is ruined,” Kensaku-Sensei snarled, glaring at him like he was worse than the animal faeces that stuck to the bottom of his shoe, “The only good thing about this is that I never have to see your face again.”

“Nagisa?” Sugino was looking at him now, lone tears trailing down his cheeks, “why did you look so confused?”

“I didn’t expect him to see me.” Nagisa confessed softly.

“Huh?”

“No one’s ever seen me before,” Nagisa took a gulp and went on, “I-I didn’t think that he would save me.”

“Why wouldn’t he?” Sugino asked, eyebrows furrowed, “if he didn’t, you would’ve been in the point blank range of an explosion. You could've died.” at Nagisa’s downcast expression, he continued, “but you knew that didn’t you? You’re good at reading people but not even you could’ve known that he can shed his skin.”

“I’m just surprised that he would’ve gone through the trouble,” Nagisa muttered under his breath.

“I’m going to pretend that you didn’t just say that because that’s a conversation I don’t want to have on the street,” the other remarked. Then, with a heavy sigh, the taller boy turned to him, placing a hand on his shoulder, “I just watched my best friend nearly die today and I don’t think I’ve ever been more scared in my life.”

“Sugi-”

“And it’s not like I could’ve stopped it or talked him out of it or anything. It all happened so quickly that I was only aware of what happened after the dust died down and I couldn’t see him standing anymore. And you know what I thought? I thought that I lost him. I thought that whilst I was here, thinking about my stupid tentacle poem, the only person that’s ever made an effort to befriend me and care about me since I got sent to 3-E was planning on ending his life just because of some stupid mission. Was I really that bad of a friend that he didn’t even think that I would miss him, that I would be absolutely devastated to spend the rest of my life coming to school and looking at his desk, forever knowing that he won’t be sitting there anymore, that I would never get to talk with him, laugh with him, play with him and do any of the other things that make this god-forsaken building class bearable? I must have really let him down if he didn’t think that.”

“Sugino, that’s not true,” Nagisa shook his head, eyes welling up slightly, “you’re-you’re an amazing friend. It’s just-”

“Next time,” Sugino cut in, face and voice deadly serious, whilst tightening the grip on the shorter boy’s shoulder, “you even think about doing something that could endanger yourself even slightly, you are coming directly to me. Koro-Sensei was right when he said that you don’t even care about your own safety, so it looks like I’m just going to have to do the caring for you until you learn just how amazingly important you are.”

“Sugino,” Nagisa sighed, knowing for a fact that if he continued to talk, the waterworks would come flooding.

“Can I hug you?” Well, he wasn’t going to say no to that. Not after all he put Sugino through earlier.

When the baseball lover wrapped his arms around him, Nagisa felt like melting into that warmth. It was such a stark contrast to the cold emptiness he felt earlier that he almost laughed. Slowly and tentatively, he brought his own arms around the other, bringing them both closer and feeling more loved in those few seconds than he had ever done in the last few months. He could feel a starling wetness start to form on his shoulder from where Sugino had nuzzled his face in and a comforting hand move up and down the length of his spine.

“You matter, alright?” Sugino whispered, voice cracking at the edges, “I don’t know what exactly got into your head to make you think that you don’t, but you do. So don’t ever think that you’re not worth anything because you are and if you weren’t there, I don’t know what I would do.”

And, well, Nagisa didn’t know how exactly to reply to that so he just nodded against Sugino’s chest.

“Hey, Nagisa?” Sugino said, after a while, leaning back.

“Yeah?”

“Let’s go get some sushi.”

Nagisa looked right at his best friend’s face, seeing hope mixed with a few other feelings embedded in his features, and he sighed. With a small barely-there smile just about making an appearance on his own face, he said, “sure. I think I’ll like that.”

#assassination classroom #Nagisa Shiota #Shiota Nagisa #Sugino Tomohito #tomohito sugino #My writing

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gukyi · 5 years ago

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do you want me (dead?) | jjk

summary: jeon jungkook, quidditch extraordinaire and overall pain in your ass, is the one problem you can’t seem to solve, even with years of being the school’s advice columnist under your belt. that is, until you begin to receive letters from someone under the alias of bambi, requesting help with confessing to a crush, and suddenly, your relationship with jeon jungkook takes a turn for... the worst?

{hogwarts!au, enemies to lovers!au}

pairing: jeon jungkook x female reader word count: 11k genre: fluff! just fluff !!! warnings: this may or may not be absolute self-indulgent trash. a/n: ha! you thought it would be like 20k, you were wrong. and honestly, i’m kind of glad it’s the same length as the rest of the sorted series. you know, for uniformity. anyway, enjoy this flaming garbage dumpster pile of a jungkook e2l fic. have i ever written anything more self indulgent? no? also, happy 2 years to gukyi dot tumblr dot com!!!!

Dear Y/N,

I need your help! I’ve liked this boy for a couple months now, and he’s friends with some of my friends, but any time he comes up to me I run away because I don’t know what to do. Whenever I’m around him I clam up and can’t say more than a couple of words before chickening out and running away. He probably thinks I hate him. Do you have any advice on how to tell him that I like him?

Yours truly, An awkward third-year

Dear An Awkward Third-Year,

Don’t be afraid! I’m sure we’ve all been there with the person we’re crushing on. The nervousness is totally natural. But the only way that he’s going to know how you feel is if you take initiative and tell him! I obviously can’t advise you too personally, but if you dance around the topic, you might confuse him! The worst thing that he can do is tell you no, but the only way to know if he feels the same way is if you tell him. And if you’re scared to just blurt it out, figure out some common interests and just worm it into the conversation. Don’t get too hung up over a boy, but do let him know how you feel! You may get some really great results. Good luck!

Yours truly, Y/N

The letters are dropped off at the front of the Slytherin table in the Great Hall every Thursday at exactly seven in the evening, right after you finish eating dinner but before you resign yourself to your dormitory for the night. They’re always neatly packaged, pushed into a nice little stack and wrapped together with a long string of tweed. It’s just enough time for you to read them all, select the three or four that will make it into the next issue of the school’s weekly newspaper, which prints on Sundays.

“I hate your owl,” Yuju says one Thursday night, feeding it bits of corn she’s plucking off of the cob on her plate. “He acts too much like my uncle’s nineteen-year-old golden retriever and not enough like an actual owl.” Her fingers drift away from its mouth and towards the side of its head, scratching it as it coos happily, curling into her touch.

“Why do you think I named him Dog?” You deadpan, unwrapping the stack of letters in front of you. “Stop feeding him corn. You know that the butter makes him throw up.”

“All the more reason to,” Yuju says, plucking off a couple more bits for Dog to wolf down before you actually begin to berate him. Half the reason he even lingers after dropping off the weekly papers, instead of flying off like the rest of the owls, is because both you and Yuju seem to have developed quite the soft spot for him. She moves on from the corn and to the tortilla on her plate, which she says is part of a deconstructed taco. It, in total honesty, looks like a very small, very measly, very insignificant Mexican buffet.

“I hate you,” she mumbles under her breath. It’s unclear if the words are directed at you, her best friend, or Dog, the owl with what she deems is the ‘most ridiculous name for an owl in the history of wizardry as the homo sapiens species knows it’, which is a bit of an overstatement if you do say so yourself. “I hate you and your dumbass name.”

“Stop, he can understand you,” you say, reaching over to cover Dog’s ears. Dog hoots unsuspectingly, looking as pleased as ever as he pecks at the tortilla in Yuju’s hands. “And stop feeding him. Pretty soon he’s going to stop eating the wholesale beetles I buy him because he’s been too exposed to the high quality deliciousness of the Great Hall’s cafeteria meals. It’s like dessert for him.”

“Fine,” Yuju says with a sigh, letting Dog nip the last piece of tortilla in her hand before shooing him off. He flies away with ease, but not before he sends a glare your way for limiting his Great Hall dinner intake. Great. Now not only will your owl begin refusing the healthy, hearty, cheap-for-the-quantity wholesale beetles, but he will also hate the hand that feeds it. Ungrateful feathered sausage.

Turning back to the reason that Dog was even being hand-fed the equivalent of McDonald’s milkshakes in the first place, you begin to shuffle through the stack of letters for the week. It’s not a very sizable stack, but that’s because it’s still the beginning of the year, and no one’s really figured out how the whole advice column thing works yet. Unlike you, a seasoned expert. It’s most of the same stuff, first and second years fretting over the workload and not knowing how to make friends or how to handle the professors. Typical beginning-of-the-year worries. You’ll know how to answer these with ease.

Yuju peers over to read some of the ones you’ve discarded, lying scattered on the deep mahogany of the table. She says it’s because sometimes she can offer valuable and indispensable advice, but you know it’s just because she’s nosy as hell and can’t help but look into other people’s business, even if they are anonymous.

“Wish I had this sort of thing when I was a baby first year,” she comments to herself. “Instead I just turned to you for all of my daily inconveniences.”

“Yeah, which is exactly why I started this column,” you remind her, memories of her flopping onto her bed in the dorm and groaning about all of her problems flickering through your mind. You’d never tell Yuju this, but your late night chats became the reason you approached the head of the school newspaper in your third year with a suggestion for an advice column.

You fish through the pockets of your robe, hunting for a spare pen so you can begin to formulate some responses when you hear loud stomping and obnoxious laughter coming from the entrance of the Great Hall. Glancing over from where you’re seated at the Slytherin table with Yuju by your side, you spot four boys clambering into the Great Hall, one with a particularly familiar tuft of bouncy, brown hair.

“Speaking of daily inconveniences,” you say sarcastically, eyes rolling like the magical night sky above your heads is mocking you. You don’t think you’ve done anything mean recently, so you can’t possibly imagine why karma has it out for you.

Except maybe it doesn’t matter, because Jeon Jungkook defies all laws of the universe and its natural system of rewards for good deeds and punishments for bad ones. All so he can exist in this very timeline, in this very location, in this very lifetime. Which so happens to perfectly coincide with your own.

Jeon Jungkook saunters into the Great Hall, footsteps heavy and jarring, just so he can remind everyone that he’s made an appearance. He laughs like a roar of thunder, forceful and purposefully. Exists obnoxiously, without regrets or second guesses.

“Maybe if you keep your head down and put your robe over yourself he won’t notice you—no, he’s coming over here.” Yuju says, making you nearly slam your head on the table in exasperation. “I tried,” she tells you helpfully, not sounding like she tried very much at all.

“Working on next week’s Witches’ & Wizard’s Counsel?” Jungkook asks instead of a hello, like any normal, non-annoying person who’s just trying to make casual conversation and not pointed and directed disturbances would do.

He snatches up one of the pieces of paper spread out on the table before you to inspect it. You reach out to wrestle him for it back, but not only is Jungkook across the table, he is also standing and taller than you anyway. “Hey, this person needs some advice for trying out for their house’s Quidditch team,” he says with a smug grin lacing his features, like he thinks he’s onto something. “Maybe I should give them a few pointers.”

“Give that back, Jeon Jungkook,” you say, reaching over the table with grabby hands to wrestle him for it back. He dodges your nimble yet crab claw-like fingers with ease. “You know that’s private.”

“It’s anonymous!” Jungkook cries defensively, even if he does cave and hand it back. “Besides, you’ll end up publishing it in the newspaper anyway. What’s another person taking a look at it, huh, Pumpkin?”

“Ugh,” you say, tilting your head back in exasperation. You swear, Jeon Jungkook takes off five years of your life just by existing within close proximity of you. “You’re never gonna let that go, are you?”

Jungkook chuckles. “You got to go to Hogsmeade for the very first time independently, nearly bought out Honeydukes’s Pumpkin Pasties stash, and then proceeded to vomit it up on the sidewalk two hours later after how many of them? Nine? Ten?” He asks, goading you on, and like a fool, you engage in it.

“That was four years ago!” You hiss.

“Doesn’t make it any less funny,” Jungkook admits. Next to you, Yuju’s on the verge of breaking out into giggles. “I’ll drop the nickname if you really want me to, Pumpkin, but I think it’s cute. It makes you different.”

“You’re the only person who calls me that,” you groan.

“It could be worse,” Yuju pipes up unhelpfully. “You could have vomited up a bunch of Cockroach Clusters, instead.”

Jungkook chuckles.

“You are not helping!” You glare at Yuju, who merely laughs. Seven years together and she’s never truly grasped the sensation of pure aggravation that you feel whenever a certain brown-haired Ravenclaw is nearby. “Why are you here, Jeon? Besides to give me a headache.”

“Want me to kiss it better?” Jungkook teases. You are on the verge of shoving Yuju’s half-eaten corn on the cob right up his nose. “What, am I not allowed to say hello to some of my favorite Slytherins out of the goodness of my heart?” He places a hand over his chest, mock offended you’d ever take a jab at his not-so-innocent intentions.

You frown. You don’t think Jungkook’s ever done anything out of the pure, unadulterated, so-called goodness of his heart. You should know. You write for the newspaper. There’s always fine print, always provisos and loopholes.

“I just came to check in on you,” he says innocently. You narrow your eyes. “Fine, and to remind you of my undying love.”

“My God,” you say, closing your eyes out of sheer annoyance. “If it doesn’t die soon, I think I’ll have to take matters into my own hands.”

“Harsh, pumpkin,” Jungkook says with a pout. “Never met someone so resistant to someone willing to devote their whole life to yours. Thought you were supposed to be all encouraging about love and nostalgia. Seems like your kind of thing.”

“You don’t know what kinds of things are my things,” you tell him defensively. It’s as if he can read you like a fucking board book. Have you always been so transparent? Or is it just him?

“But I want to know.” He winks for good measure. Your brain makes a mental note to steal a few beans from the stash of Bertie Bott’s Every Flavour Beans that Yuju keeps hidden in her trunk, so you can vomit later. “Sure you don’t want my help with that Quidditch letter?”

“I’m positive,” you deadpan. “I wouldn’t ask you for help even if Lord Voldemort returned.”

“Good thing he won’t, right?” Jungkook grins, all teeth and crinkled eyes. Someone from the Gryffindor table calls his name. What a goddamn shame your conversation’s been cut short. “I’ll catch you around, Pumpkin,” he says as he begins to bound off, always a fully-charged battery of a human being. “Don’t forget about me, won’t you?”

You couldn’t even if you tried.

Jungkook leaps off to interact with people that don’t see red whenever they speak to him as Yuju mutters something about how much she wants to destroy the Ravenclaw quidditch team this season.

You look down at the letter Jungkook had mindlessly picked up.

Dear Y/N,

I really want to try out for my House’s Quidditch team, but I’m too scared! I know that they’re in need of a Seeker, but I’m Muggleborn and I’ve only ever been on a broom during Flying Class. My friends say that I have a good eye for small things and that I should go for it, but I’m afraid that everyone will laugh at me because I don’t have any experience. I’ve tried reading books and watching other people play, but I don’t think it’s helping. And every time I try to get a broom to practice on the field, I see people who are really good at it, like Jeon Jungkook, and I chicken out. Do you think I’ll ever be as good at it as he is?

Yours Truly, A Seeker Hopeful

You groan. The bewitched ceiling of the Great Hall laughs at you.

Here’s the thing about Jeon Jungkook: he wasn’t always such a nuisance.

Or at least, giving him the benefit of the doubt, you assume he wasn’t always such a nuisance. Whether or not he’s always been this sleazy and unbearable will forever remain a mystery to you, but you can say with certain confidence that ever since you met him in the third year, he’s been nothing but a complete and total bother.

You love your best friend dearly, but Yuju joining the Quidditch team in your third year was the worst thing that’s ever happened to you. Because Quidditch equates to Quidditch friends, and Quidditch friends equates to a certain insufferable Ravenclaw seeker.

The whole point of the formation of the universe is that everything that has ever happened since the very fabric of time began has led up to this moment. Which, in theory, seems pretty goddamn astounding. The universe has twisted, turned, morphed, metamorphosized over the past fourteen billion years just so you could be right here, right now.

Except theory is always more idealized in reality, and there aren’t enough words in the English language to express how overwhelmingly bothered you are by the fact that it took the universe fourteen billion years, fourteen billion goddamn years, for you to end up next to Jeon Jungkook.

But hey, maybe Jeon Jungkook wasn’t always such a nuisance.

“Have you guys noticed something different about Hufflepuff this year?” Yeeun asks one Thursday night as you’re gathered in the Slytherin common room. She’s letting Yuju give her a haircut, sitting patiently on a wooden stool as Yuju flitters and flutters about her, the pair of scissors in her hand leaving little paths of blonde hair in their wake. “They’re getting more aggressive.”

“Aggressive how?” Yuju asks. Her eyes widen when the scissors move a bit too quickly, chopping off more hair than they can chew. Yuju glares at you—keep your mouth shut. Hair grows back.

“Not like, violent aggressive. But Quidditch season started like, a week ago and yesterday I was eating my lunch in the Great Hall when a herd of Puffs wearing full Puff memorabilia—scarves and everything—stormed in and screamed, ‘WE’LL HUFF, AND WE’LL PUFF, AND WE’LL BLOW YOU OFF YOUR BROOMS!’ And quite frankly, it was so much Puff Pride that I was actually scared,” Yeeun recalls.

Yuju chuckles to herself, shaking her head. “I guess we’ll just have to prove them wrong, eh? Next time we play Puff, I’ll make sure that they don’t get a single Quaffle through the hoops.”

“You better,” Yeeun huffs.

“You gonna watch?” Yuju asks. “It’s your duty as a rising seventh-year. Can’t believe you’re gonna be seventeen next year, huh?”

“Can’t believe you guys are graduating this year,” Yeeun says in response, frown lacing her features. You have to agree with her—though you only know Yeeun from house activities, she’s definitely become one of your favorite people. Alongside Yuju, of course.

The chatter continues as Yuju dutifully snips away at Yeeun’s hair, making sure it’s just above shoulder-length like Yeeun likes it. You filter through the letters you received for the weekly column, still stacked neatly wrapped up in tweed—the Great Hall was serving tomato soup for dinner, otherwise you would have read through them all during supper, beginning to narrow down the small pile to the three or four you’ll keep for the newspaper.

“Hey! Bambi’s sent another one,” you exclaim happily, recognizing the scrawl of Dear Y/N instantly, always so distinct. Or maybe that’s because Bambi’s been sending you letters since the beginning of your sixth year, so you’d be a fool not to recognize his handwriting, or at least the way he writes Dear Y/N, by now.

Yuju grunts in acknowledgement of your exclamation at the same time that Yeeun, baby, sixth-year, pureblood Yeeun says, “What’s a Bambi?”

“Oh, the name of a character from an old Muggle film,” you explain, knowing that any more technicalities will confuse her. “He’s one of the regulars I get for my column. He’s been sending me nice letters ever since the beginning of last year.”

“Aw, maybe he’s got a crush on you!” Yeeun immediately exclaims, making Yuju jerk away from her hair sharply, on the verge of bursting into laughter.

You shake your head. “I doubt it, since anonymity isn’t the best way to confess feelings. But he’s sweet and sometimes won’t even ask me for advice—just sends me a note telling me that I’m working hard for the column and doing a good job. Little pick-me-ups, things like that. It’s really nice of him, actually. I don’t normally get thanked for my advice column.”

“That’s bullshit,” Yeeun grumbles. “You deserve every newspaper award in the world for all the work you put into that thing.”

“Everyone else who contributes to the newspaper works just as hard as I do,” you remind her. You glance down at Bambi’s note, neat cursive handwriting resting gently on the paper, like it’ll fly away like dandelion wisps if you blow at it. “But it is nice to get stuff from him, sometimes.”

“Y/N likes this anonymous Bambi more than she likes us,” Yuju jokes to Yeeun, finishing up the final touches. Yeeun’s hair, as always, looks wonderful. Yuju has a talent for this kind of thing. She motions to the paper in your hand. “What’s it say?”

Dear Y/N,

Over the past couple of weeks I have come to a life-ruining, world-ending, universe-collapsing conclusion: I have a crush. I mean, I suppose I’ve had this crush for a while now, but I only just recently realized it. Anyway, to put it into less melodramatic terms, there’s this girl that I really like. Like, stupid like. It’s kind of ridiculous. All of my friends tease me about it. But I just think that she’s funny and beautiful and creative and witty and a long list of other positive adjectives. Only problem is (here’s the earth-shattering part): I have no idea how to tell her. And I’m afraid that it might just slip out accidentally and then my chance for a grand romantic gesture will be ruined. Any suggestions?

Yours truly, Bambi

“Aw, he’s got a crush!” You exclaim happily, fawning over his words.

“Lemme see,” Yuju demands, making grabby hands for the paper. You hand it over to her, and she inspects it like a textbook passage she doesn’t understand and has to reread. “Um, if you ask me, personally, this is less like a crush and more like complete infatuation. Just saying.”

“And?” You ask defensively.

“You have never been in a relationship before,” Yuju says, looking you dead in the eyes with her big brown ones. She punctuates each word with a head jerk for emphasis.

“So what? He’s asking me for advice on a school crush. This is Hogwarts—relationships built here aren’t meant to last. We’re teenagers. We don’t know what real love is.”

Yuju rolls her eyes as she hands Yeeun a mirror for her to see her new haircut. “But from the looks of it, it sounds like he does. Maybe it is just a schoolboy crush, but Bambi, whoever the hell he is, seems pretty dedicated to it. You ever thought about that?”

You pout. This conversation is going nowhere, and by going nowhere, you mean quickly morphing into reasonable yet angry comments directed at you.

Yuju sighs, voice getting softer. She can never stay mad at you for long. “You should stop being so jaded all of the time. You’re an advice columnist, for God’s sake, Y/N. Look on the bright side.” Yeeun beams a thank you at Yuju for her haircut. “Sometimes, love lasts.”

Quidditch has never been your thing. Activities that involve flying have never been your thing. The idea of whizzing around a field fifty feet in the air as bugs fly into your face while sitting on a broomstick makes all parts of you uncomfortable, from your brain to your… lower regions.

Long story short, athletic sports that don’t involve two feet almost always on the ground aren’t really your thing. But you’ll be damned if you don’t support your best friend and your house until the day you perish.

Which is exactly why you’re sitting in the bleachers of the Quidditch field in the middle of a very strangely warm November afternoon, the sun beating down on your black robes, absorbing as much heat as physically possible. Despite it being near winter, the effects of Muggle-made (and wizard-made, but wizards don’t like taking blame for the slow heat death of the only inhabitable planet within the known parameters of space) climate change reign, and you shrug off your heavy robes to leave only your undershirt and tie on within five minutes of being outside.

Yuju’s dragged you out to one of her informal, house-inclusive Quidditch get-togethers (not serious enough to be a practice, but not light enough to be deigned hanging out) under the guise of moral support, leaving you sat pathetically on the bleachers as your best friend and her Quidditch buddies zip around above you. They’re tossing around the Quaffle like a strange, very mobile game of Hot Potato.

It’s the perfect time for you to get your homework done, the ambient sounds of “Hey, Clark, think fast!” and “You almost hit my goddamn nose!” the optimal background noise for peak productivity. And you’d never admit it to Yuju (because it would mean that you actually enjoy sitting out in the sun being boring), but the empty bleachers make pretty decent tables.

You’re switching back and forth from your completely and utterly incomprehensible arithmancy homework and edits for the newspaper—other sections, of course—when you hear the familiar sound of a broom coming to a halt in front of (or more above) you, the sound cutting right through the air and wind. You have half of a mind to not even look up, suspecting it’s just Yuju to complain about the fifth-year Gryffindor Beaters she hates, when—

“Pumpkin, come to watch me?”

You should have known better. It’s no surprise that Jeon Jungkook’s here today—he’d never pass up the opportunity to flaunt his Quidditch skills. Your presence is just a bonus.

“Yes, Jungkook,” you deadpan. A frown etches itself across your lips, partially because of the person you’re talking to, and partially because said person is blocking your view of the sun, which you would otherwise stare into so as to never have to lay eyes on Jeon Jungkook again. “Out of the dozen or so people on that field, one of whom being my best friend, you are the person I’m here to watch.”

Jungkook grins, and though his face is shadowed, the rays of the sun cast some sort of deceivingly angelic glow around his figure. “Always knew you had a soft spot for me.”

“Yeah, no one I’d rather knock off their broom than you,” you mutter to yourself, just loud enough for Jungkook to hear. You’re not sure if he’s still paying attention, but if he is, he doesn’t say anything.

“Jeon! Stop schmoozing and get over here!”

Both you and Jungkook turn to the source of the voice, another one of the Ravenclaws out at practice who’s waiting atop their broom for Jungkook to get off his ass and do what he came here to do.

Jungkook grins guiltily. “Looks like they need me, pumpkin. Watch this next trick, it’s for you!”

Before you have the chance to remind Jungkook of how little you care for him and his tricks, he flies off, leaving an empty pathway of air in his wake. You don’t know what he’s got up his sleep, but if it’s anything like the other tricks he’s pulled over the five years that you’ve known him, you know better than to wait and find out.

Someone else comes to a halt beside you. It’s Yuju. “What was Jeon Jungkook doing talking to you?”

You frown. “What do you think?”

Yuju chuckles. “Right. I forgot he was going to be here. You didn’t have to stay if you knew he was here, you know.”

“You kidding? Of course I’m gonna come and cheer on my best friend,” you say, shrugging it off. Yuju’s worth the suffering that Quidditch brings. “Go Yuju!”

“You’re the best,” Yuju says with a grin. You shrug. You know you are.

“Hey, pumpkin! Check this out!”

Jeon Jungkook calls your name at the perfect time—just enough time for you to actually follow his directions and look towards him. Someone on the far side of the field tosses a small, non-active Snitch in your general direction, and Jungkook tears after it, reaching the puny thing in just under a couple of seconds, a quick flip of his broom as he catches it in his right hand. You don’t have enough time—or willpower, for that matter—to look away before he’s turning his head to you, blowing you an obnoxious kiss just for good measure.

“Christ,” Yuju snorts from next to you. “He’ll never give up, will he?”

You sigh. Maybe in your dreams, he might.

Dear Y/N,

Okay, maybe I should give you a bit more context to the aforementioned life-shattering crush I seem to have developed. We do actually know each other—I’m not just sadly pining after her from a distance—but we’re not exactly friends. Maybe acquaintances at best, but even that term might be pushing it. I’m just not sure how to tell her how I feel without coming off too strong, or scaring her. Even if she doesn’t feel the same, that’s the last thing I’d want. What should I do?

Yours truly, Bambi

Dear Bambi,

Hey, at least you both know each other! That’s a step in the right direction. I don’t know if this is universal, or if I’m the only one who thinks it’s decent advice, but maybe you should try getting to know her as a friend before you dive into the romantic stuff. That way, she’ll feel more comfortable around you and the air will be less awkward in general. If she’s not interested in just getting to know you better, then you’ll probably have a pretty good measure of whether or not she might feel the same romantically. Good luck!

Yours truly, Y/N

“Was Arithmancy homework always this difficult?” Yeeun asks, madly flipping through the textbook in front of her. It’s a small, old thing, notes scribbled in the margins from the three older brothers she has that took the course before her, passed down their sage wisdom and little doodles to her in the form of all of their beat-up textbooks. “I have no idea what’s happening in class right now.”

“Don’t worry,” you say, dipping your quill into the small blue jar of ink at the edge of the library table you’re seated at, charmed to refill automatically. “It gets worse.”

Yeeun groans. She takes one more look at the work in front of her and begins to pack up her belongings.

“Hey, where you going?” You ask. “You said you had the afternoon free to study.”

“I do. But I’m on the verge of breaking down because I don’t understand anything so I’m going to go talk to the Professor to see if he can help me and if he can’t, then I will be hiding in the Potions closet crying. So you’ll know where I am,” Yeeun says as calmly as she can muster. She looks perfectly fine on the outside, always so put-together and polished, but after knowing her for so long, you know that if you just tapped on her shoulder her entire façade would fall to the floor and shatter into a million pieces. So you don’t push it.

“Okay,” you tell her. “Be safe. Don’t drink anything in the Potions closet because that might make you worse at Arithmancy.”

“Got it,” Yeeun says, shooting you a finger gun before heading out of the library.

You’re left in silence, struggling to draft an essay for Defense Against the Dark Arts which is due at the end of the week, when someone else plops down in Yeeun’s place.

Much to your surprise, it’s Jungkook. And it doesn’t look like he’s here to bother you—or at least, that’s what you hope, considering he’s got his own schoolwork with him, spreading out comfortably as he begins to work, practically ignorant of your presence.

Now that you think about it, this is how it should have always been. The two of you, coexisting comfortably and without disturbances, keeping to yourselves and only talking if necessary. But now that Jungkook’s here, right in front of you, and he’s not saying a word, it leaves you with a prickle on your skin. A sense of peculiarity, because in the five years you’ve known him Jungkook has never been one to sit down and stay quiet.

“Can I help you with something?” You blurt, unable to keep your mouth shut when Jungkook’s sitting right there.

He looks up at you, a knowing glint in his eye, and smiles. “No. Just doing my work, pumpkin.”

It’s aggravating how calm he is. He knows he’s being just annoying enough to get under your skin, but you can’t really shout at him without seeming like the villain.

He’s always one step ahead of you.

“Well,” you stammer, watching as his lips curve upwards into a smirk, “can you do your work somewhere else? Please?”

“Why?” Jungkook pushes. “I’m being quiet. I’m keeping to myself. What’s the harm?”

You sneer, narrowing your eyes suspiciously. “Are you sure that I can’t help you with anything?”

Jungkook chuckles. “Well, if you must ask, I was wondering if you were up for studying together sometime. Since you haven’t magicked me out of my seat, I’m assuming you don’t mind me actually being here.”

You sputter, trying to defend yourself. Of course you mind him being here. You mind him being within a twenty-feet radius of you. You were only asking because it’s very unlikely that Jeon Jungkook would just plop down in the seat across from you in the library, pull out his books, and begin to study without a single word. Especially if he was across from you. “W—Well, why on earth would I study with you anyway? What am I getting out of it?”

Jungkook tsks. “You know, Pumpkin, sometimes people do things out of the good of their hearts. Do you really need a reason to study with me, a poor Ravenclaw who’s just trying to graduate?”

You glare at him.

“Alright, alright,” Jungkook caves. “I need help in Transfiguration and I hear that you’re pretty good at it. There.”

“What am I getting out of it?”

“What, you won’t just do this for me? I’m wounded, Pumpkin.”

Another glare.

“Fine,” Jungkook says with a roll of his eyes. “A little bird told me that you need a bit of help in Defense, so I figured we could help tutor each other. You know, like one of those symbiotic relationships.”

“That snake,” you mutter under your breath. How could Yuju tell Jeon Jungkook, of all people, that you’re struggling in Defense Against the Dark Arts? How could she betray you like that?

“So, whaddaya say?” Jungkook asks, stretching a hand out across the table. “You in?”

You sigh. Spending more time than absolutely necessary with Jeon Jungkook sounds like your own personal hell, but you suppose it can’t all be bad. After all, he’ll be at your mercy just as much as you’ll be at his, seeing as you both need help in your respective classes. So maybe there is a silver lining, after all.

You meet his eyes directly, dark and stormy and certain. “I’m in.”

Against all odds and several vows you had made yourself over the years, studying with Jungkook becomes somewhat of a normal thing. You work out a schedule—Wednesdays at four, the only day he doesn’t have Quidditch practice and one of the few days of the week you’re not fretting over the newspaper issue—and follow it dutifully, weeks passing with the two of you meeting up at the same table in the library, going over the lessons of the week and working out anything you missed.

It’s strange, having a faithful and consistent arrangement with someone you, at one point, wouldn’t be caught dead spending time with. And the strangest part of it all is that slowly, some part of you, some crevice deep within your bones and your soul and your being, actually begins to look forward to Wednesdays at four, where Jungkook will be arriving at your usual table, unpacking his belongings with a soft smile on his face, unaware he’s being watched.

That’s the thing you’ve come to realize. You’ve only ever known Jungkook when he’s knows he’s center stage, when he knows that there are eyes on him. Every time you’ve been around him prior to this, he’s been in the spotlight, got someone who’s paying attention to him. And suddenly, you’re catching him whistling to himself as he takes notes from his Transfiguration textbook and sneezing when the feathers of his quill brush against his nose accidentally and doing little dances when he gets a question right. Suddenly, he’s existing in the background, by himself, without the hard gazes of the people around him. And it’s different.

Or maybe it’s always been like this. You’ve just never had the luxury of witnessing it.

“Hey, Pumpkin,” Jungkook says, tapping your parchment with his quill to get your attention. “Does this make sense to you? I don’t get it.”

He flips around his textbook and points to a passage, brows furrowed as he tries to read it again, hoping maybe the words will stick this time. You squint slightly—out of habit—as you go over the text, the words slowly processing.

“Oh, yeah,” you say, nodding. Jungkook looks up at you like you just saved his life. “It’s just explaining the technicalities of the difference between conjuring charms and traditional conjuring transfigurations. See, charms will enhance an already-existing object, but conjuring transfigurations create something new entirely. But it’s kind of confusing, I have to admit, since both exist in their own realm of magical spells.”

“So conjuring charms create something in addition to something else, but conjuring transfigurations just make something new, then?” Jungkook asks for clarification.

“Exactly.”

“Oh, alright,” Jungkook says with a dutiful nod, quickly scribbling it down in his notes. “You make it so much easier than this damn textbook.” He grins honestly, earnestly, as he goes back to reading the rest of the chapter, leaving you to your own devices once more. These days, it’s not so much direct tutoring as it is studying together.

Against all odds, Jeon Jungkook has become someone you actually don’t dread being around. In moments like these, he is soft-spoken, gentle, and sincere.

It’s strange. Has it always been like this?

Dear Y/N,

Good news: I think we’re friends. Or at least, I think we’re friends. I’m not sure about her, but I’d like to think she feels the same way. Except now, the problem is that because we’re friends, I’m getting more and more nervous! I swear, every time I’m around her my hands get all clammy and sweaty and disgusting because I’m scared that if I do end up confessing and she doesn’t feel that way, we’ll lose what we already have. But do we even have anything in the first place? I’m not even sure if she thinks we’re friends! What now?

Yours truly, A Slightly-Panicked Bambi

Dear A Slightly-Panicked Bambi,

Don’t worry! Chances are that if you think you’re friends, she probably thinks that you’re friends as well, which is a great step in the right direction. I’d say that now you’ve established yourselves as friends, your next move is to slowly reveal your romantic intentions. Don’t pile them on her all at once because it might be too overwhelming. Try subtly incorporating romantic gestures into your relationship as it is now, like compliments and really, really lowkey flirts, to see if she picks up on the message. See where that takes you!

Yours truly, Y/N

It’s snowing.

It’s been snowing, really, for the past week now. It was a couple centimeters on one day and a few more on another day but this weekend has been the full force of it, a steady blanket of white covering the grounds.

But that doesn’t mean the seventh year Hogsmeade trip is cancelled. As Yuju likes to put it, Hogwarts doesn’t believe in rainchecks. Besides, Hogsmeade always looks prettier in the snow, when the flakes leave a soft pillow on the sloped rooftops of the buildings and Honeydukes brings out its seasonal treats, sugared snowflakes and peppermint toffee lining the windowsill. The peppermint toffee is a favorite of both yours and Yuju’s, but you know where your true loyalties lie (Pumpkin Pasties, of course).

“Thank God it’s the beginning of the semester otherwise I would be so stressed right now,” Yuju says happily as you walk along the pavement, feeling the wet cold of snowflakes falling onto your nose, your ears, and your fingertips. “Oh! Hey!”

Your best friend starts waving wildly at a small group of students standing outside of The Three Broomsticks. Through the snow, you recognize them as some of Yuju’s Quidditch buddies.

“Mind if we hang out with them?” Yuju asks, knowing that sometimes you like to keep your Hogsmeade trips an exclusive between the two of you.

“The more the merrier, right?” You say in response, letting yourself be dragged over to where they’re waiting. It’s two Gryffindors, one Hufflepuff, and two Ravenclaws, one of whom is barely recognizable under the thick blue scarf he’s got wrapped around the lower half of his head and the beanie covering his brunette hair.

“Hey, Pumpkin,” he says, voice muffled through the knit of his scarf. “Didn’t know you’d be joining us.”

“Well, here I am,” you say. “You know I’m only here for Yuju, right?”

Jungkook chuckles, and you watch as the air he breathes out through his nose materializes into fog from the cold. “Sure, you keep telling yourself that.”

You gasp, smacking his arm. “What’s that supposed to mean!”

Jungkook laughs, no time to respond before your group is trotting off, everyone shouting out random sights to see, like the Shrieking Shack or Zonko’s, the snow making everyone’s hearts a little colder, a little softer, and a little lighter.

You bounce around, making stops at all of your favorite locations around the area, including The Three Broomsticks for a round of celebratory Butterbeer, marking your final year at Hogwarts and praying that you’ll all graduate.

“Okay, sue me, but hot apple cider is way better than Butterbeer,” Jungkook says loudly, a moustache of Butterbeer foam decorating his mouth. His words spark an eruption of indignant exclamations, Muggleborns and purebloods alike insisting that Jungkook’s tastebuds are incorrect and have to be clinically checked. Because he is wrong.

Except he isn’t, and hot apple cider on a cold day by a lit fireplace is better than lukewarm Butterbeer, or even hot Butterbeer, any day.

“This might be the only thing we ever agree on, but you’re right,” you mutter to him, leaning over to whisper it in his ear.

Jungkook grins proudly.

Later that day finds you in Honeydukes, which is objectively the best location in all of Hogsmeade, no arguments. What more could you want out of a place other than constant, never-ending sweets? Nothing. Every time you visit Hogsmeade you make sure to drop by Honeydukes, say hello to the kind old lady behind the counter (who knows you by name), and buy a couple of your favorite items.

“I’m so tempted to get like, five slices of the lemon merengue pie,” Yuju says with a sigh, eyeing the display case longingly.

“Aren’t you lactose intolerant?” You say, more of a reminder than a question.

“And what about it?” Yuju says, almost like a challenge, before marching up to the register, already fishing through her pockets for her purse.

Your eyes wander back to the glass case, thinking that maybe, after five years of coming to Hogsmeade, you should branch out and not get the exact same thing that you get every time you come to Honeydukes (the aforementioned Pumpkin Pasties). The peppermint toffee looks delicious, and even though you’ve never tried them before, Yeeun always fawns over the Fizzing Whizbees—says it’s a better way to levitate than trying to cast Wingardium Leviosa on yourself. Chocolate Frogs are a classic you very rarely indulge yourself in, and you could never go wrong with Cauldron Cakes—

“Pumpkin,” Jungkook says, giving you a small shove as he arrives next to you with a bag from Honeydukes, taped shut. His scarf has been pulled down below his chin, revealing his bright red nose from the sudden change in temperature from the chilly outside to the heated store. “Here.”

You narrow your eyes. “If this is a cockroach cluster I’m going to sock you in the face.”

“Just open it,” Jungkook says with a roll of his eyes.

You do as you’re instructed, albeit hesitantly, only to find three neatly-wrapped Pumpkin Pasties sitting at the bottom of the Honeydukes branded paper bag, waiting to be devoured.

“Oh, you didn’t have to do that,” you say softly, unable to stop the smile that spreads across your face. No one’s ever bought you sweets before. “Here, let me pay you back—”

“No need, Pumpkin,” Jungkook says, placing a cold hand on top of yours to stop you from getting your wallet out. “Consider it a thank you for all the time you spent helping me with Transfiguration.” You nearly shiver at the sensation of his skin meeting yours.

“Really?” You ask. “Well, thank you for thinking of me. I don’t know why you’re being so… nice to me, but it’s a pleasant change.”

Jungkook pouts. “Don’t you remember how I’m madly in love with you?” Of course, the moment you compliment him he turns back into his regular self. You shouldn’t have put it past him. “Had to honor your nickname, didn’t I?”

“Hey, do you want one?” You ask, figuring that it’s only right he gets to eat one of the treats he paid for.

“Sure,” Jungkook says happily, letting you pull one of the neatly packaged desserts out of the bag and place it in his hand. “Promise me you won’t throw up this one this time?”

For once, the memory of you vomiting up the contents of your stomach into a trashcan outside of Honeydukes doesn’t make you want to cringe. Instead, you laugh, recalling it with fondness as you and Jungkook clink together your Pumpkin Pasties like goblets filled with wine.

You giggle. “Don’t hold me to that.”

Thursday night finds you right where you always are, but with a new face across from you. Jungkook’s taken it upon himself to add onto your Wednesday evening study sessions, insisting he accompany you to dinner when you’re finished, and even on the next day as well, sometimes. You keep telling yourself that it’s because you’re best friends with Yuju, who knew Jungkook first through Quidditch. Because it’s highly improbable that Jungkook would want to join in on your Great Hall dinners just for you. Right?

“When’s the mail getting here?” Yuju huffs, poking at her half-eaten bowl of peas. “Dog’s the only one I know who’d actually want to finish my lukewarm buttered peas.”

“You know that the butter makes him throw up, Yuju,” you berate her. “Feed him something else. Preferably the food that I buy him that is meant for owls to consume.”

“But what else am I supposed to do with my peas? I don’t want to just leave them. That’s a waste,” Yuju exclaims.

“I’ll have ‘em,” Jungkook offers up. That’s one bonus of his sudden appearance at your dinner table—he’ll eat anything you won’t, like a food vacuum cleaner. “I love vegetables.”

Yuju looks hesitant. “I think I’ll just let Dog throw up.”

“Hey!” You shout at her.

Speaking of Dog, the mail begins to filter in, dozens of owls entering the Great Hall with packages hanging from their talons on their beaks, to be dropped off at their owners’ tables, right in front of their eyes. In the middle of the year, not many students are getting mail, but just like every other week, Dog appears faithfully to deliver your letters for the week.

“Is this the stuff for the Witches’ and Wizards’ Counsel?” Jungkook asks over a mouthful of chicken.

“Yeah,” you tell him, rubbing the side of Dog’s head as a thank you. “Oh, it’s a pretty small stack this week.”

“Guess no one’s having troubles this time of year,” Yuju comments, already beginning to spoon-feed Dog her peas. At this point, you don’t even care if Dog throws up. As long as he does it in the owlery, it won’t greatly inconvenience you.

You unwrap the tweed, letting it fall to the floor for one of the cats that roam the hallways of Hogwarts to play with, and begin to shuffle through the few letters that people sent you. It’s just enough for a full issue for the newspaper, thank God. “Hey, look. Bambi’s sent another one.”

Jungkook drops his fork onto his plate, the metal making a loud, disruptive clanking sound as it hits the glass. You, Yuju, and Dog, all turn to him, watching as he smiles guiltily, slowly picking up his fork and pretending that his clumsiness never happened.

“What’s this one about?” Yuju asks, hissing at Dog when he accidentally bites her finger.

“Lemme see,” you say, making to open the envelope.

“Who’s—Who’s Bambi?” Jungkook asks, mouth full. Dog seems to have notice the plethora of food still left on Jungkook’s plate, and is slowly making his way over to peck at Jungkook’s dinner rather than Yuju’s.

“Oh, just this guy who’s been sending me letters since the beginning of sixth year,” you muse happily. Jungkook nods, mumbling something unintelligible over his mouthful of food. “Sometimes he asks for advice but sometimes he just sends me kind words, which is honestly so thoughtful of him.”

“That’s nice,” Jungkook seems to say, though his words are quiet and muffled.

“And recently he’s been coming to me with questions about a girl that he likes and I just wish that I could give him better advice, you know?” You say, watching as Dog marches over to Jungkook, happily chewing on a piece of chicken he’s stolen from Jungkook’s plate, cooing contentedly. “Like, I feel like the advice I’m giving him on how to confess to this girl is the just what I would want if I was the girl, but obviously that’s not universal. Or at least, I don’t think it is. I don’t know. He’s always been so nice to me and I wish that I could give him better advice than what I’m giving him now.”

Jungkook nods again as acknowledgement that he’s still listening, though his eyes are trained on his plate as his hand instinctively comes up to rub at Dog.

Which strikes you as odd, because Dog doesn’t really cozy up to strangers, even if he will pick food off of their plates. He’s a relatively amicable owl—which is why he’s good for the your advice column, because he won’t bite at anybody’s fingers when they drop off their letters—but he won’t let just anyone pet him like Jungkook does. Like Jungkook is.

“Um,” you say, getting Jungkook’s attention. “Do you and Dog… know each other?” You ask, watching in some sort of trance as Jungkook scratches at Dog’s neck, making him coo happily.

“Me?” Jungkook asks, nearly sputtering. “No,” he says immediately. “I didn’t even know he was named Dog until today. Which, clever name, by the way. Why? Is he not normally, uh, like this?”

“No,” you say, suspiciously but of no one in particular. More just of the situation in general. “He doesn’t normally accept pets from strangers.”

Jungkook smiles down at Dog, who looks plenty happy to be receiving a good petting, regardless of the hand that’s giving it to him. “Guess I’m just different, then.”

“Yeah,” you say, nodding. You reach your fingers out to see if Dog will return to you, his rightful owner, but he’s firm in his will to stay right where Jungkook can rub him. “I guess so.”

Not even animals are immune to the bewitching charms of a certain Jeon Jungkook.

Dear Y/N,

Okay, maybe it’s just because I’m clueless but I’m not really sure if she’s picking up what I’m putting down, if you know what I mean. Maybe she is and I just haven’t noticed, but as far as I’m aware, we’re still just friends. Which is fine, and I’ll totally accept that without complaining, but I haven’t even told her how I feel. Do you think I should just go for it? I mean, I don’t know what else to do at this point. Honestly, I feel like I just need to come clean and deal with the consequences in an appropriate and relaxed manner. She probably doesn’t even feel the same, but that’s okay. As long as I try, right?

Yours truly, A Very Fretful Bambi

Dear A Very Fretful Bambi,

At this point, I think that you can take matters into your own hands. If you want to confess to her, I’d say go for it! You’ve made your intentions fairly clear at this point. And it’s okay if she doesn’t feel the same—you guys are still friends, after all! I don’t know you personally, but you seem like a confident, strong-willed person and if you feel ready, then there’s no reason not to tell her. The worst she can do is say no, right? But, if you’re as kind as you’ve made yourself out to be since you first began to message me, then I don’t think she will. Good luck!

Yours truly, Y/N

The halls of the castle are eerily quiet at this hour. The moon shines through the big glass windows that line the corridors, casting its pale white light along the frescos that decorate the walls. You’ve been down this path plenty of times before, plenty of sleepless nights and tired eyes behind you, behind your seven years here. By now, you could walk this road in your sleep. You bet you have.

The astronomy tower is the most beautiful place in all of Hogwarts. Sure, students may insist that the ceiling of the Great Hall is the most picturesque, or their common rooms are the most homey, but the grounds are the most breathtaking, but all of those pale in comparison to the glass ceiling of the astronomy tower, showered in stars and planets above on a clear night, like your very own planetarium. Pale in comparison to the telescope you look through during class, catching glimpses of faraway galaxies that light up their own little corners of the universe.

It’s a wondrous place to be, the astronomy tower on a clear night, where you can empty your thoughts into the world and let the stars see inside your mind, watch as they twinkle their responses. And so, it’s no wonder that you most often find yourself here when the comfort of your dormitory isn’t enough, when sleep just won’t overtake you like it does most other nights.

Only, this time, when you open the door, the shadow of someone sitting on the steps that look out onto the glass balcony is waiting for you.

“Hello?” You ask into the silence, hearing your voice echo along the walls.

The shadow turns, and suddenly the side of Jungkook’s face is bathed in the light from the moon and the stars, half of his profile hidden from view and the other basking in a white, nightly glow. It’s stunning.

“Pumpkin?” He asks in response.

“What are you doing up here?” You ask, walking over to him. He’s curled up on the steps, leaning against one of the pillars with his knees pulled up to his chest, like a baby.

“’M just thinking, Pumpkin,” Jungkook muses. “Care to join me?”

Your legs move before your brain does, making to sit down next to him, when you falter, thinking that if Jungkook’s going to blab to you at two in the morning on a spring night, you’d rather just go back to your common room and do your thinking there. That’s the beauty of thinking—it’s in silence.

“I mean, I don’t really want to disturb you, you know,” you say tentatively, backing up.

“Aw, please?” Jungkook asks, pushing his lip out into a pout as he blinks up at you. In the moonlight, in the starlight, in the light of the faraway galaxies and planets and supernovas, Jungkook’s eyes look like they’re swimming in stars. “It’s lonely up here.”

And maybe it’s your love for the astronomy tower that keeps you there, or maybe it’s the way he looks at you or the way he’s curled up like a pillbug as he watches the stars slowly shift across the sky, but you take your seat next to him, a good bit of distance between the two of you as you slowly make yourself comfortable, watching out onto the glass balcony at the quiet of the world beneath you.

There aren’t enough words in the English language to describe what this feels like. To describe how, after years of toil and trouble, years of back-and-forth teasing and insults, you and Jungkook have found yourself sitting together in the dim light of the astronomy tower late one weekday night at the end of your final year of school, watching the stars together. It’s almost surreal, in a way. That every moment in the universe has led up to this. Up to you being here.

Never have you spent so much time together in silence.

Jungkook seems to shimmer in the moonlight. Perhaps it’s just because the moonlight bathes everyone in a heavenly glimmer, but Jungkook looks particularly dazzling, like the very fabric of his bones were made of stardust. Strange. You’d never felt particularly attracted to him, not when his big mouth and obnoxious personality overshadowed his looks, but you’ve never been one to deny his timelessness. He’s always been handsome—his looks will never go out of style. So maybe that’s why, when he sits beneath the moon and the stars, he glows. Because the moon knows that Jungkook can only get prettier.

“Pumpkin,” Jungkook says, breaking the silence with nothing more than a whisper. “I’ve got a question.”

“What?”

“Do you ever think that maybe, with certain things, you should just give up? Because you don’t know if you’ll ever get what you really want?”

“What?” You ask again, eyes wide open as you look at him. “You? Giving up? What alternate universe is this?”

Jungkook laughs, but it’s soft and half-hearted. “I don’t know. I’m just—I’m not sure if this thing that I’m trying to do is going to work out, you know?”

In the five years you have known Jungkook, as a student, as a Quidditch player, and even, dare you say, a friend, never have you imagined him being one to give up.

“Okay,” you say, “I know that maybe right now, the outlook isn’t looking promising. But you should never give up, especially if you haven’t gotten an outright no. If you don’t know for certain the future of your situation, then why should you stop working for the future that you want? You’re Jeon Jungkook, you don’t give up on anything. You work super hard for your grades and when you don’t understand something in Transfiguration you work at it until you do, and you spend hours on the Quidditch field trying to perfect ur eyesight to catch the Snitch even though there’s no magical spell for 20/20 vision, and you work your hardest and do your best and thats why you’re good at school and amazing at Quidditch and—”

“You think I’m amazing at Quidditch?”

You look over at Jungkook to see that he’s closed the gap between the two of you, his shoulder coming to rest right next to yours, and he’s looking at you with a misty haze in his eyes, the stars above you clouded and foggy in his dark irises. But he’s grinning, and grinning wide, because you just gave this totally unwarranted pep talk to him and told him he was amazing at Quidditch and a great student and everything else that you said, and Oh, God.

“Yeah…” You say hesitantly, “but don’t get a big head, asshole.”

“Believe me,” Jungkook says with a scoff, “the only big parts about me are my love for you.” You narrow your eyes. “That, and one other thing.”

You gasp in shock, totally unsurprised yet caught off guard nonetheless by his words, giving him a small shove against the staircase. But you’re not scowling, or frowning, or glaring at him. You’re laughing, because suddenly Jeon Jungkook is not just amazing at Quidditch, and a great student. He’s wonderful. In every way he is, and it might just be the way the moon illuminates him ever so perfectly that’s making you feel this way, but maybe this has been a long time coming.

Here’s the thing about Jeon Jungkook: he wasn’t always such a nuisance.

Because when you weren’t watching him, when he was sitting in his dorm room studying, or hiding in the astronomy tower, or wandering through the bookshelves in the library, he was quiet, and beautiful, and looked at the world like it had so much to offer him. When Jeon Jungkook let the world around him exist without him being in the spotlight, he was everything but a nuisance.

And even when he was acting loud, and being big, and teasing you, he wasn’t doing it to hurt. He was doing it because all he could tease you about was how much he loved you, whatever that meant, and how his heart was yours and how if you just opened your eyes you’d see him, and suddenly your vision’s never been clearer and he’s right there, in front of you. And it’s crazy, how these things work. How suddenly, everything’s been flipped on its side because, as it turns out, your heart is his.

How this moment, right here, sitting on the steps in the astronomy tower as the stars twinkle like Christmas lights above you, was fourteen billion years in the making. And the best part? It was worth the wait.

“Come on, hurry up!” Yeeun shouts at you as you’re quickly filing through the letters you received last night. You were too rushed to check them at dinner, what with Yuju on your arm stress-eating because of the Quidditch match she had to compete in the next day, the final one of the season. “I want good seats so we can see Yuju!”

“I’m coming, I’m coming,” you say, quickly tearing open the first envelope so you can give it a quick glance over, planning on writing your responses over the weekend, after the Quidditch Cup. Yeeun’s standing in front of the mirror, trying to fix her Slytherin beanie, alongside the rest of the green and silver memorabilia she’s decked herself out in.

You open the first one and recognize the handwriting instantly, the familiar calligraphy of Dear Y/N, this one looking particularly nice. Like the person writing it had taken their time, done it with purpose.

Dear Y/N,

This may or may not be my last letter, depending on how this goes. But I just wanted you to know that on Friday, I’ll be in the air with the rest of my house, playing our very best game of the season. And I’ll be searching for the Snitch, as I’m supposed to, but above even that, I’ll be looking out for you. Because I love you, and more than anything else, I just wanted you to know that.

P.S.: Feel free not to respond to this one publicly.

Yours truly, Bambi

And the piece of paper drops to the floor, the hard edges of it hitting the hardwood with a soft thud.

Because that letter, and all of the ones coming before it, ever since the beginning of sixth year, could have only been written by one person. Someone who’s in your year, and a seeker for their house’s Quidditch team. And it’s certainly not your team’s seeker, because she’s a girl and also a fifth year. Someone who’s playing in this year’s Quidditch Cup. A Ravenclaw.

Holy shit.

“Come on, slowpoke! We have to go!” Yeeun says excitedly, running over to you and grabbing onto your arm. She pulls you out the door before your brain has a chance to process the information you just learned, the letter you just read. And you spend the entire journey to the bleachers of the Quidditch field in a daze, barely cognizant of the world around you, even as Madam Hooch blows her whistle and begins the game, even as the players whiz around on their brooms above you. Next to you, Yeeun’s screeching, or maybe she isn’t—you can’t really be sure, with the noise in your brain. You think that you wave to Yuju when she passes by your section of the bleachers, winking down at your group, but you’re not sure.

The only thing you remember is seeing Jungkook, in all of his Ravenclaw glory, sitting proudly atop his Firebolt as he darts around the field like a bullet, eyes keenly looking out for the Snitch. You only ever see him play when it’s against Slytherin, but you can say with certainty that in his entire Quidditch career, this is the best he’s ever played. The most he’s dedicated himself to his sport, the hardest he’s ever worked. He flies above the crowd and it’s as if the very fabric of the air is at his beck and call, bends to his will. You don’t need to know much about Quidditch to know that Jungkook is a good player, but this game is better than good. It’s inspiring.

And it pays off, too, because suddenly the commentator is screaming into the microphone that “Jeon Jungkook has caught the Snitch! Ravenclaw wins!” and the entire quarter of Ravenclaws have burst into cheers while the Slytherin quarter begins to sulk, beaten at their chance to win the Quidditch Cup. And Jungkook is coming to a halt in the middle of the field, the golden Snitch, sparkling in the sun, clenched tightly in between his fingers as the rest of the Ravenclaw Quidditch team crowds around him, chanting “Jeon Jungkook! Jeon Jungkook! Jeon Jungkook!”

Your very last Quidditch Cup as a Hogwarts student and you couldn’t remember more than ten seconds of it if you tried. It passed you by in a blur, a haze of movement and shouts and cheers, and suddenly the bleachers around you are half as filled as they were before, and then a quarter as filled, and then only stragglers are left, gathering their belongings and heading back to the Slytherin common room, where your house is bound to party despite losing, as a celebration of a team that worked as hard as they possibly could.

“Hey, Y/N,” Yeeun says, a hand on your arm. She looks awfully sad, but she’s still got one more year to see Slytherin win the Quidditch Cup. She’ll be alright. “You coming?”

You look out onto the field to see the Ravenclaw Quidditch team pulling each other into a giant hug, everyone patting each other on the backs and cheering after a successful season. And somewhere, in the center of that pile, is a certain brown-haired boy with the stars lacing his eyes.

“In a second, I just have to do something first,” you tell Yeeun, who shrugs in response and flutters off by herself.

You move before your brain can tell you to stop, for fear that if your mind catches up to your legs, you’ll chicken out. Slowly, but certainly, you make your way out of the bleachers and onto the field, feeling so much smaller now that your feet are firmly on the ground, the seats meters above you. You’ve never been onto the actual Quidditch field. Well, until now, at least.

Blinking, you take a deep breath and march right up to the Ravenclaw Quidditch team, who have given Jungkook hug after hug for bringing their team and house to victory, and you shout, “JEON JUNGKOOK!”

And Jungkook whips his head around, sweaty and gross and exhausted and beautiful, and he says, “Yes, Pumpkin?”

And you fist your hand into his damp Ravenclaw Quidditch uniform and pull him into a bruising kiss, his lips crashing against yours, still warm from all the blood rushing through his veins. He makes a pleasantly surprised non-sound into your mouth, eyes crinkling up into half moons as he pulls you in, letting his gloved hand wrap around your waist. Behind him, the entire Ravenclaw Quidditch team has burst into hoots and hollers, but you barely hear them. All you can see, feel, and imagine, is him.

When you part, he looks dazed, kiss drunk, grinning his lopsided grin. He’s never looked prettier. “What’s all this about, Pumpkin?” He asks, even though he already knows the answer. “I thought you hated me.”

“Wrong again, Jeon,” you tell him instantly, shaking your head. “I don’t hate you. I love you.”

Jungkook can’t help but smile, wide as the goddamn ocean, wrapping his hand around you once more and pulling you back into another kiss, this one even more intense than the last. Your hands come up to rest against his cheeks, blushing red from the adrenaline pumping through him, letting your body melt against the heat of his own. He keeps you close, pulls you in impossibly closer, lets his entire body wrap around yours, lets his lips dance along your own, plush and warm and searing. And Jungkook is beautiful, and wonderful, and perfect, and suddenly, he’s yours.

Dear Y/N,

Okay, this is definitely my final letter. Because I can just talk to you if I actually have a problem. I just wanted to remind you, Thursday-night Y/N, as you read through all of the letters for this week, that I love you. In case you forgot. So, I love you.

Yours truly, Bambi

hard to believe this series is over already!! thank you so much to everyone, from my silent followers to the ones that message me daily, you guys are the reason i did this. the reason i wrote 70k of pure hogwarts aus. for you guys!!! i’m extremely proud of where i’ve come with this series, and it’s crazy that it’s over !

as i previously mentioned, it’s my blog’s 2 year anniversary today, and i suppose it’s only fitting i post a self-indulgent jungkook fic to commemorate it, seeing as that very genre was the first fic i ever posted on this blog. thank you again, to everyone, for these past two years. despite the trash pile that is tumblr, you make this website a wonderful place to be. here’s to many more!

#jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #bts fluff #bts angst #bts scenario #jungkook scenario #bts imagine #jungkook imagine #bts au #jungkook au #bts hogwarts au #bts hogwarts #jungkook hogwarts au #w: do you want me (dead?)#w: sorted #OHHHH MY GOD ITS OVER !!!!

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aliceslantern · 4 years ago

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Grow, a Kingdom Hearts fanfic, chapter 11

Suddenly human and abandoned in the Keyblade Graveyard, Demyx struggles to survive and come to terms with what his life is. Only by chance is he saved from exposure, and brought to Radiant Garden to recover. Unsure of who he is and where to even begin, Demyx finds a kindred spirit in Ienzo, and before long finds perhaps he isn't the only one lost in this new life. But how can they move forward with so much holding them back?

Roughly canonverse, Zemyx, hurt/comfort. Started for Zemyx day (9/6). Updates Wednesdays until it's done.

Chapter summary: In the wake of memories, Ienzo has a breakdown. The time in the desert catches up to Demyx.

Read it on FF.net/on AO3

---

Demyx woke with a gasp. He was soaked in sweat, and he looked at his hands. My name , he thought dazedly. That’s my name! He turned to Ienzo, ready to wake him up and tell him everything.

Except Ienzo was already awake. He was on his side, curled tightly, and he was crying.

“Hey,” Demyx said softly. “Bad dream?”

“I’m fine,” he said. “Go back to sleep.”

“You’re not fine, if you’re crying.”

“It’s an involuntary reaction.”

“What happened?”

“One in a hundred basement dreams,” he said. “Just… all these moments I could’ve stopped--feeling my… heart get ripped out of my chest…” He shuddered. “This pain is just what I deserve. Karma.”

“You don’t deserve that.”

“After all I’ve done?” Ienzo asked in a high voice. “This is the least of what I deserve.”

“No. No, Zo. That’s just not true.”

“Why not.”

“You couldn’t help being lead onto that path--”

“What about after?” his tone was shrill. “When I was old enough, when I should’ve known right from wrong?”

Demyx didn’t know what to say.

“We killed people, Demyx.” He got up and started rather violently getting dressed. “Come on. You need to see something, if you want to be with me.”

Demyx could only follow. He was feeling hot and dizzy again. Ienzo led him down to the computer lab, to a door at the far side. He punched in numbers, breathing heavily. “We don’t have to--”

“ Yes we do. ” The syllables rang loudly in the metal space.

Demyx reached forward to touch his shoulders, fighting his own nausea. “No. We don’t.”

Ienzo slapped his hands away, grabbed one, and brought him downstairs into the basement.

The basement… was just a basement.

Demyx felt that bad things had happened here. The energy was just too charged. Ienzo stood, staring, dazed, at the cells, all of the doors closed and quiet. It was strangely clean. Empty.

“I killed people,” Ienzo said, in a much lower voice. “I wanted to do experiments and when I asked they said okay. I manipulated people. Pushed them to their breaking points, psychologically. When they were broken Xehanort plucked out their hearts, and I didn’t feel the least bit sorry. I thought we were making discoveries which would change the world.”

Demyx swallowed. He thought of a childlike Ienzo standing over a body fading to darkness.

“I killed people,” he repeated. “And afterwards when I could not feel I killed even more, let whole worlds fall because of our plans. Why am I--why am I still here?”

“You’ve been given a second chance,” Demyx said. “You were a… you were a kid, Zo.” He chanced touching his shoulder. “You were manipulated onto this path. You said it yourself--Xehanort gaslit you into thinking this lab was your idea. You were too young. Too smart.”

“Too smart,” he echoed.

“And you chose good now, right? You chose to help the world? That means a lot. That means so much.” His vision was swarming. He cupped Ienzo’s face.

“Seeing this--how could you still--”

“I love you.”

If anything, this was the wrong thing to say. “Why?” It was nearly a bleat. “Why? Why ?”

“I do, Ienzo. I do. We talked about this. What were you supposed to do? These people were your parents, and they asked you for something, and you were good at it. They took your dad away. You had nothing left. What were you supposed to do? Run away, at eight, ten, twelve years old? Give up everything? How were you supposed to know what was going to happen?”

The wildness in his eye was fading.

“And you’re doing everything in your power to put it right, right? To fix it? To help people? And you are. You work so hard every day. You’re using that research to help people. It’s going to change the world.” He felt like he was talking out of his ass. “Look, it so sucks that you had to go through this. But I’m too selfish to let you keep hating and blaming yourself when this is not your fault .” His voice echoed loudly. “Not when I can see the real you. And he is so kind and patient and smart and funny. You… you deserve to be here. You deserved to be loved. I mean it.” He was sweating all over, and the pain in his back had returned, thumping in time with his racing heart. “I mean it.”

Ienzo sank to his knees. Demyx knelt with him and pulled him close. He was crying again, but it seemed like the kind of crying that had to happen, so Demyx just shushed and rocked him. After what felt like hours, hours where Demyx struggled not to vomit, struggled to stay completely conscious, he calmed. “Oh Demyx,” he said. “Oh.”

“I know. It’s okay. We can pretend this didn’t happen.”

“I don’t want to.” He stood and offered him his hands. “I love you too. I don’t… I don’t deserve you.”

“More like I don’t deserve you.” He smiled, weakly. He was feeling weird now, and wanted to go back to bed. “Let’s go home, okay?”

The long, long walk back upstairs seemed to take an eternity. “Your hand is really warm,” Ienzo said.

“The stress made me hot.” Why was he lying? He needed help.

“I insist you see Even first thing in the morning.”

“...I will.” He was feeling even stranger now, hazy, weird. Upstairs was in sight now. Maybe he could sit for a few minutes when they got there…

They passed the threshold. Something unraveled in him, went sharp, went weird, went sideways--

---

The next thing Demyx was aware of, he was on the cold hard metal floor, on his side, and his head was in Ienzo’s lap. There was the smell of vomit, a slickness of sweat, and there was an awkward wetness between his legs. “...What…” He mumbled. His head was pounding, and the pain in his back had reached a fever pitch.

“Don’t move. Try to relax.”

“What happened?”

“You had a seizure.”

“I don’t… remember…”

“Of course you don’t.”

“Where are my glasses?”

“I took them off for safekeeping. Even and Dilan are coming. Just try to stay still until then.”

He looked down as much as he was able. A spare lab coat had been spread over his lap. He realized what the wetness was; he’d pissed himself. A humiliated flush heated his face. “I’m sorry I peed,” he mumbled. “And threw up.”

“It was completely involuntary, Demyx, it’s okay. Most people do when they seize.” His voice was soothing, but he detected an undertone of stress. Ienzo stroked his sweaty hair.

Footsteps. “What are you two doing down here?” Even snapped. “How long did he seize for?”

“I’m not sure exactly--I was trying to keep him from aspirating the vomit.”

“Boy, minutes count. Guess.”

“Five minutes or so?”

Even swore. He knelt down by Demyx. “Hello there,” he said.

“I’m sorry.” His eyes watered.

“It’s alright, child.”

Child? That’s how Demyx knew he was in deep shit. He felt Even’s cold hands taking his pulse, his temperature.

“Febrile,” he muttered. “What else do you feel?”

“Sick,” he said. “Just really… sick. And…” He swallowed. “My back really hurts? Like a lot?”

Even probed him gently. “Here? Right here?”

He hissed. “Right there.”

“Ah,” Even said. Demyx couldn’t see his expression clearly.

“Even, what is--” Ienzo began. Then, “oh.”

“Quite,” Even said. “Oh, Dilan, there you are. Thanks for taking your sweet time.”

“I’m tired,” Demyx murmured.

“Close your eyes and rest,” Ienzo said. “It’s okay.”

---

He didn’t get all the way asleep, but awareness slid in and out. He was vaguely aware of Ienzo changing him into a robe, of Even taking blood samples. The pain was still awful and nausea brought him around. “Oh,” he said.

Ienzo’s head snapped up. He was sitting next to the bed in the infirmary. “What do you need?”

“I’m gonna be sick.”

He held a bin in front of him. Demyx heaved, but nothing other than water really came up. “I’ll have Even give you an antiemetic.” He handed him a cup of water to rinse out his mouth.

“What’s wrong with me?” he asked wearily. He had a suspicion but he needed it in words.

“We’re trying to figure out for sure. You need to relax. It’s going to be okay.”

He tried to lay back. For a while he just felt weak and hazy and sweaty until he looked up and saw Even. The man rubbed a prep pad over his bicep, and Demyx felt a pick of a needle, then a numbness in his arm. “What are you doing?”

“Oh, you’re awake,” he said. Demyx didn’t recall sleeping. “I’m putting a port line in. You remember from before, yes? This is just something to make that process more comfortable.”

“Why?” he asked.

“You need the fluids,” Even said. Despite the numbing, when he put the line in Demyx felt every little pinch and prick. “Okay. Okay. Steady. Good boy. I’m done.”

Thin, strange-tasting tears ran down his face. He felt something stinging injected into the line--an antiemetic like Ienzo said? A painkiller? Just saline?--but whatever it was made him so exhausted he dozed.

In this haze Demyx heard voices.

“...You’re sure?”

“I showed you the numbers, Ienzo. The fever, the vomiting, the seizing especially. I wish he were lucid enough so I could ask how long the symptoms have existed…”

“At least since yesterday.”

“...It’s advanced enough that I’m sure it’s been longer. I… had suspected he might not bounce back so quickly. But he’s young, and fit more or less, so I didn’t see a reason to scare him unnecessarily. Which begs the question why you two were alone for so long yesterday, but there are more immediate problems.”

“So what do we do?”

“The dialysis will buy some time and make him feel better. But it’s not a good long term solution--not to mention it will greatly decrease his quality of life.”

“So there’s truly no way they will bounce back?”

“The loss of function was complete, Ienzo, complete. If the medications he’s been taking haven’t been helping, nothing will.” A long pause. “I may have a solution, but it will take a little time. ”

“I think I catch your drift.”

Demyx slept. When he woke he felt considerably less shitty, but with this clarity came a bunch of truths he wasn’t ready to face.

He’d remembered his name and a little bit more of his past.

He’d seen Ienzo in a godawful amount of pain.

There was something seriously medically wrong with him.

The line in his arm pinched. He sat up a little. He could see blood creeping down one line and back in another, with plain fluid in a third. The blood was connected to a small machine, which was ticking along quietly. His glasses had been set on a bedside table. Demyx knew without looking he was back in the infirmary.

Ienzo was dozing in the chair next to the bed, a scratchy-looking blanket tucked around his shoulders.

Demyx felt mostly… numb.

Ienzo jolted awake with a start. “Demyx.”

“Hey.”

“How do you feel?”

“Lots better. Tired, though.” His muscles were sore, he realized; not the terrible awful ache he’d been living with (which had quieted, it seemed, for the time being). “I’m in pretty deep shit, aren’t it?”

Ienzo sighed heavily. He sat up. “Yes,” he said tiredly.

“My kidneys are fucked, aren’t they?”

“The technical diagnosis is “renal failure” but, yes.” He reached over to touch Demyx’s face. “Even thinks he has a solution. You just have to hold on long enough for him to implement it.”

He sighed. In his mind’s eye he saw the desert. “Man, people might as well be made of paper,” he said. “Little dehydration and it all falls apart.”

Ienzo’s smile was cramped and sad.

He swallowed. “Before… everything got super dramatic,” he said, “I remembered something.”

“You did?”

“I… I really think I did.” He told him about the dream/memory. “She’s my sister, Ienzo.” His eyes watered. “Elrena is my sister. All of that… that insulting. It’s just a mutated form of sibling rivalry.”

“How do you feel about that?”

“Confused,” Demyx admitted. “The spot she has in my heart is just… weird.”

“Of course it is.”

“Where is she? Is she home? Do we have parents? More siblings? Is she okay?”

“She likely recompleted. I’m sure she’s physically fine.”

“I don’t want to leave you.”

“You don’t have to,” Ienzo said. He touched one of the tubes. “Right now, you can’t .”

"And there's my name." He took a deep breath. “Edym.”

A long, long pause. Ienzo smiled. “Do you want me to call you that?”

“I’m… I’m not sure,” he said. “Maybe you could try to, and I can see how I feel?”

“Of course.” He leaned over and kissed him once. “It’s nice to meet you, Edym.”

#grow #ienzo #demyx #zemyx

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propertyofnikkisthighs · 5 years ago

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Afraid Ch 9

Sorry for the long breaks between uploads guys. It’s overtime season at work and I’ve been pulling 60-70 hour weeks so I haven’t had much time to write. Also sorry this chapter is short, but I already have the next chapter outlined and prepared.

Warnings: Smuttt

“Babe you haven’t said anything most of the drive. Are you okay?” Nikki asked concern heavy in his voice. He took my hand in his on my thigh and rubbed light circles with his thumb.

“Just still not sure how to feel about all of this honestly. I just didn’t picture this is what we would be doing on our short time back to L.A.” I offered a small smile to hopefully reassure him, but he didn’t seem convinced.

“Hey we’ll figure it out. Don’t be so down, we get to see our son today.” Nikki broke into a smile that nearly split his face in half.

“There is no way for you to know we are having a boy” I chuckled out. He had been calling the baby a boy and our son since the positive pregnancy test confirmed what I already had felt was the case.

“Call it my father’s intuition kicking in early” He smirked pulling into the parking lot of the doctor’s office. “I know we won’t have confirmation on the sex for a few months, but I just have a feeling.”

“Yeah well if we have a girl not only will I laugh because you’re wrong, I will also laugh because that would be your karma.”

The room at the doctor’s office was just cold. That’s what I kept telling myself at least to explain why my hands were shaking. I felt a nudge to my shoulder and looked to see Nikki pulling my hands apart from their death grip on each other. Nikki squeezed my hand in his and brought it up to his lips pressing a soft kiss to my wrist. I slowly let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding just as the doctor made her way into the room.

“Hello, you must be the Sixx’s. I’m Dr. Ferrell.” The older woman smiled the lines near her eyes crinkling as she did so and I instantly felt more comfortable.

“Oh Sixx isn’t my last name” I corrected noticing a distinct eye roll from my side.

“I’m sorry for assuming. When was your last period?”

“A little over a month ago. I should’ve had my period two weeks ago”

“Alright, well let’s lay back and see if we can locate this little sucker in that belly of yours” She began to prepare the materials for the ultrasound. I leaned back against the table and lifted my shirt up so she could apply the gel to my stomach. I hissed at the cold feeling of the gel at my stomach and my hand found Nikki’s once again as the anxiety of what was happening hit my body like a freight train.

“You ready?” She asked with a kind smile.

“As ready as I’ll ever be” I nervously chuckled.

That was when I heard it. The whooshing that quickly changed into a thumping. Our baby’s heartbeat rang through the room and every other noise was blocked out.

“Babe? Babe are you okay? You’re crying?” Nikki’s swiping the tears from my cheeks and looking at me with so much concern it only seems to cause more tears to fall.

“I’m just so happy and scared” I finally sigh out earning a small chuckle from the doctor.

“As I thought you’re about five weeks pregnant.”

Five weeks? What happened five weeks ago that caused them to slip up in protection? That’s when it hit me, the night I wore that damn school girl outfit that Sam made me buy.

This is so stupid, I thought, it’s three in the morning and you’re sitting here in a tiny skirt instead of sleeping. I was waiting on Nikki to get back from the strip club he had gone to with Tommy and Vince and had been silly enough to put the school girl outfit on to surprise him. He probably wouldn’t even care about the little outfit after being surrounded by half naked beautiful women. I pushed my anxieties down and flipped the channels on the T.V for the millionth time. I must have fallen asleep because I came to at the sound of Tommy’s boistruous laugh and a “See you at the studio” from Nikki. I smoothed the outfit out and propped myself with my legs tucked under me leaning slightly against the headboard. Nikki’s boot came flying into the room with the second not far behind and I stifled a giggle at him kicking the shoes off so aggressively. Nikki came into view and stopped in his tracks his small smile dropping open as he took in the sight of me.

“Hey” I smirked instantly feeling more confident.

Nikki didn’t respond and slowly made his way to me. My smirk faltered confused by his actions and lack of response until he ever carefully reached out and touched the skin of my thigh between the tiny skirt and my stockings. That was when the gentleness ended. I let out a small yelp as Nikki pulls my legs out from under me and drags me toward him before crashing our lips together harshly. Warm arousal settles in between my legs as Nikki nudges them apart to better position himself there. I whimper when he bites my lip roughly and work on trying to unlace his leather pants, but he tugs my hair pulling my head back to look up at him.

“Don’t.” It’s a command that I know I should obey, but the desire to see what he’ll do if I don’t listen outweighs and I continue my work on his pants with a playful smile.

“I said not to do that.” he tugs my hair harder.

“Make me stop” I challenge.

I’m on my knees again as Nikki’s hand comes down giving my ass a hard smack. I grip the sheets and whine as he delivers another smack and I feel the wetness ever increasing in the thong I am wearing.

“Such a fucking brat making Daddy punish you like this” He growls spanking me again. “When I tell you not to fucking do something you listen.”

I can’t respond outside of a moan as he rubs his hand over the red mark I’m sure that’s grown there and then slides two fingers to rub against my clit.

“So fucking wet already” He spanks me one more time for good measure before flipping me on my back again.

He spreads my legs and digs his teeth into the flesh of my right thigh. My eyes screw shut as my back arches pleading for him to touch me where I need it most. The sound of tearing fabric makes me open my eyes again and I see Nikki ripping the second side of my thong before tossing them to the side. Placing his hands on the sides of my thighs he dives in licking my clit and my head is once again thrown back in pleasure. Nikki inserts two fingers and I try to buck my hips in time with his movements but he holds me in place with his free hand. I feel the familiar build up in my lower abdomen and I tangle my hands in his hair when he suddenly pulls away and bites my thigh again.

“You get to cum when I say you can cum” He growls against my thigh. He’s standing and unlacing his pants while I scramble to flip back over onto my knees for him.

He grabs a fistful of my hair before entering me all the way to the hilt not sparing me any time to adjust before he’s pulling all the way out and entering me fully again. My eyes water from both the force of his thrusting and the pulling of my hair and I’m reduced to a whimpering mess. My hands fist the sheets to try to leverage myself as Nikki roughly snaps his hips against mine. I feel his teeth sink into my shoulder and I cry out his name as the sensation of both the pleasure and pain overwhelm me. His free hand snakes around to rub my clit in small circles while still keeping his unrelenting pace and I feel the orgasm building in me once again.

“God you’re so fucking hot like this” He pants against the shell of my ear.

“I want you to cum in me” I cry out.

It’s enough to push him over the edge and the warmth of him releasing inside me sends me into my own orgasm.

“We have to tell them.” I sighed brushing Nikki’s hair out of his face. He was laying with his head against my stomach and pressing kisses there. He was always touching my stomach and kissing it despite it being so early in the pregnancy. He said he didn’t want our son to ever not feel love from both of his parents for a second and who was I to argue with that?

“I just like that this is our secret right now.” He shrugged.

“Okay well you guys have almost finished the album and we head back to L.A. in a month and then you guys will be planning a tour and will all be busy so we need to do it soon.” I wouldn’t tell him to his face, but I liked that nobody else knew just yet as well.

“Ugh. I know I know you’re right.” He groaned. “Why don’t we all go to dinner tonight and we can tell them then?”

“That’s a good idea just please no breakfast places. Bacon still turns my stomach” I cringed.

“I’ll go to their rooms now and let them know” He gave me a soft kiss before heading out of the hotel room.

The back room of the restaurant that the boys chose was luckily closed off from the rest of the patrons there. I sighed and shook my head as Vince and Tommy spoke loudly about how they couldn’t wait to get home and the dirty things they were going to do to their wives. Looking at Mick for some sort of relief he just shook his head and sipped on his soda. We were the only two that hadn’t gotten wine, which was another reason the boys had zero filters, and the only two with any sense of shame.

“Yeah dude that’s why it’s so great how short Heather is so I can pretty much walk around and bounce her on my dick.” Tommy snorted shoveling more pasta into his mouth.

“Man Sharise can ride me for so long thanks to the mud wrestling shit she used to do” Vince snickered.

“Hey Nikki maybe you should make that announcement you wanted to make” Mick finally spoke up and I sent him a silent ‘thank you’ with my eyes.

“Oh yeah I almost forgot” He stood quickly grabbing the boys’ attention. “So (y/n) and I have some news. We’re having a baby.”

The boys reacted about how I expected. Vince went on about how Sharise and Skylar were going to be so excited to have playdates, Mick clapped Nikki on the shoulder and grumbled a ‘congrats’, and Tommy hugged us both so tight we thought we might break something. The ride back to the hotel was spent discussing the album and upcoming tour and thankfully not about the wives waiting back home.

#nikki sixx fanfic #douglas booth!nikki sixx x reader #nikki sixx x reader #nikki sixx fic #nikki sixx #douglas!nikki #motley crue fanfic #Motley Crue #smutty #afraid

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surveys-at-your-service · 5 years ago

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Survey #263

laptop is still broken, nvm. :’)

Do you have a favorite song by The Cure? "Sweet Soul Sister." (': Are there things you've never told for fear that others would judge you? Yep. Can sex ever be casual? I personally don't support it, but ultimately, so long it's consensual, protected, and both parties understand what's going on, you do you. Would you like to go on television to receive a make-over? Not on TV, no. It'd be awesome to see myself after a professional makeup, but I ain't going on TV to show my ugly face. What will no one ever see you do? Smoking. Are you quick to anger? Rarely. Are you slow to forgive? Not really. Usually. What do you need help with? Being an adult, lmao. Do you take the easy way out of things? More often than I'd like... What is your favorite fabric to wear? *shrugs* I don't pay attention to the fabric I wear, really. Do you still make a wish when you blow out your birthday candles? C'mon dude, you've got to! I don't believe in wishes increasing your odds of anything, but it's a must anyway! Do you look for four leaf clovers? Just casually when I'm walking or sitting outside. What are you the guardian of? My pets! Are you for or against censoring child pornography? I've seen many stupid questions in surveys. But this is the absolute dumbest. What the fuck is wrong with you. Are naked child images in paintings more acceptable than photographs of naked children? GENERALLY, yes, but it really depends on the artistic portrayal. None should be sexualized. Now that we can create such lifelike digital images, do you think it should be allowed for digital child pornography to exist (as in there were no children involved in the porn, it is all digitally made, the kids aren't real, they just look real)? Absofuckinglutely not. The concept is absolutely repulsive. Enough with these fucking questions. Do you like Wheel of Fortune or Jeopardy better? Wheel of Fortune, ig. Jeopardy is pretty boring to me. What is your favorite tarot deck? I don’t know enough about tarots to comment. How do you feel about Wicca and Paganism? IT'S SUPER SUPER INTERESTING AND COOL AND I LOVE LEARNING ABOUT IT!!!! I relate most to Neo-Paganism anyway, so I obviously don't mind them. Wicca especially is a very, very misconstrued religion that has just been horribly abused by the media. Do you believe that people who practise the above religions are able to accomplish magic? No, I don't. If you were given the opportunity to lead a creative writing program for a small group of students in a high school with a low budget in generally poor neighborhood, would you do it? No, but only because I could never been a teacher. Sounds fun otherwise. Should high school cafeterias stop serving twinkies and other fatty foods? BIIIIITCH whose HS sells Twinkies????? I need to know?????? Anyway, no, but I believe there must be mostly actually nutritional options. Let kids have the chance to have a little snack during a boring 'ole school day. What band is so romantic that anyone who listens to them must be romantic at heart? BOY Josh Groban. Have your gods and idols let you down? The Christian god did. What do you waste? Whew... time... time. When was the last time that you were neither going to school or working for a month or more? Currently. Ugh. What is your light at the end of the tunnel? The potential of a beautiful future. Speaking of the light, is the light that people see when they die the random firing of electrons or is it something more? Good question. I lean towards it being a natural phenomenon as everything shuts down, BUT I find the reincarnation/birth canal theory to be quite interesting. I don't really believe it, but hey, who the hell am I to decide if it is or not. If you were going to have a mural painted in your bed room what would you want it to be of? A scene of meerkats probably. Is sex more about fulfilling a need or giving yourself? Giving yourself. Do you like your belly? FUCK NO. Do you think more or act more? Think, sadly. Should there be a mandatory retirement age? Of course not. You work all you want boo. What's the craziest thing you've ever done on impulse that worked out well? This is gonna sound... very bad, but my suicide attempt. It made things abundantly clear I needed serious help. It led to my partial hospitalization program. Do you have any exercise tapes or DVDs? No but OH MY GOD this made me remember my lil sister used to a Barbie one that we followed lmaoooo. Does the sound of crickets bother you? No, I quite enjoy it actually. Is the sound of a fan on at night soothing? Yessss. How do you feel you will likely die? I really don't know, but probably cancer-related. Recent events have made it abundantly clear it does in fact run in our family, and genetic testing because of Mom's cancer revealed that at least through her, my sisters and I are susceptible to pancreatic, breast, and ovarian cancer. Once this virus passes over, we're all getting tested for free to get an understanding of what hell Dad gave us lmao. Have you ever been slapped in the face? No. How about punched? Yeesh, no. That was something unique about you as a child? I was CRAZY about dinos for the average little girl. Have you ever come up with a memorable quote? Not really. What is something interesting about where you live? The town is like, really, really old. Downtown looks right out of an old movie. Were you breastfed as a baby? Yeah. If you’ve lost your virginity, what was your first time like? I don't remember it because it didn't really register what we were doing was sex. I still don't know today if you could call it sex since it was really dry humping through thin clothes, but it sounds close enough. What do you think about masturbation? You do you boo. Is it sometimes better than the real thing? I don't think so, though I only had a brief episode where I did it when I was put on a new birth control that made my hormones like so, so far beyond control. I stopped that shit sooo fast. I got almost nothing out of it, honestly. Intimacy is a two-person job for me. Who do you think about most? Jason, whether I want to or not. Favorite way to pamper yourself? Go to bed early lol. What's your most expensive piece of clothing? I don't have a clue. I don't really have expensive stuff. What was your last big achievement? Ugh... I'm not the person to ask. I haven't made any big ones even semi-recently. Have you ever had a "false alarm" moment, what was it about? Oh sure. The first time that comes to mind was when I thought Venus was dying once when she had a series of horrible coughing/gagging fits a long time ago. We took her to the vet with the risk of a respiratory infection, but she was clear, thankfully. I think she had early signs, though. Do you know how to ride a bike? Ye. If you were in the hospital who are the two people you'd want by your side? Mom of course, and it'd be nice if Sara was there if she was at all capable of that, but I'm fine w/ just Mom. If you could ever take a street sign, what sign do you want? Well, I wouldn't, but probably "stop" bc that applies to a lot in my life, lmao. Have you ever not returned something you borrowed and if so what was it? I don't think so? When you pack your lunch, what's your favorite packed lunch? Usually just a good 'ole pb&j. :') What was the one most important thing you learned from your parents? Take care of your goddamn relationship. Talk shit out instead of yelling. Work together. Never neglect the reason you're with each other. Have you done something you worry could come back to haunt you, what? No, because I don't believe in karma. If you had to build a small ark, what 7 animals would you save? Those with the biggest ecological impact, like bees and spiders, for example. I wouldn't be very happy with all my choices while all other animals perished, but you've gotta think of what comes next. Out of just selfishness I'd obviously have to spare a spot for meerkats, aha. They'd help with the bug control, though! I don't know about the other four, though; I'd have to think real hard on 'em. What is something your parents love that you actually love too? Classic rock and metal. Has anyone ever said "I love you" and you couldn't say it back? I firmly remember this is how I ended that childish shit with Joel. He said it and I couldn't. Have you ever ridden a camel? No. What's been the hardest loss you've had to take? Jason. What emotion is your least favorite and the one you are not in touch with? Fear, of course. No one likes being afraid. I'm not all that in touch with greed at all. Do you think facial moles or freckles are cute? I don’t mind 'em. Sometimes they're super-duper cute. Would you ever pick up a hitchhiker? NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO I don't trust strangers for shit. If you're searching for a relationship, where is your go-to place to look? I don't really "look" anywhere. What book have you read multiple times? I lost count of how many times I've read Meerkat Manor: Flower of the Kalahari. Granted, in subsequent reads, I would skip over the HUGE tangent chunks that were entirely unrelated to meerkats. I seriously remember one long-ass section was like a goddamn essay on why smaller animals tend to have unnaturally large testicles like I don't fucking care talk about Flower again. I think I only decided to read it in full two times, but maybe not even that. Do you keep a budget? I don't have the income to do so. Have you ever test driven a car you knew you weren't going to buy? No, never test-drove anything. What do you have a hard time visualizing? There's a number of things, but this one thing is weird shit: I can't picture my old therapist. Even when I saw her every month, I could almost NEVER visualize her in my head. She's a fucking cryptid or something, paranormal shenanigans is going on here. She's the only person I know where I have that problem. What makes you feel uncomfortable in group settings? I worry I'll make myself look stupid in front of everyone. What was your worst date ever? I don't feel like I've really had a bad one. I've had one that did nooooot go according to plan and I know the average girl would've been annoyed, but I'm actually an understanding human being who found the adventure fun in the end. Basically a flat tire, a sketchy tire place, and a lot of walking happened lmao. Tyler felt fucking awful, felt bad for him. Have you ever gotten in a bidding war on Ebay, if so for what item? HAHA yeah, though it was technically Mom, but she had me keep an eye on it. I remember Parasite Eve took some battling to get. I think maybe a Legend of Spyro game, too? Are you supportive of your friends even if you don't agree with them? So long it's not literally insane or stupid, usually. It really does depend. What did you think was stupid until you tried it? Hm. I'm not sure. What subject do you and your parents never see eye to eye on? Religion. I keep most of my beliefs to myself now. Where do you see yourself in 1 year's time? Honestly, I don't want to ponder and picture this. What is your favorite type of seafood? I only like shrimp. What triggers your inner shopaholic? HA, do tattoos count? See cool ones, and then I'm planning (more than only always...) tons of new ones I want and will just be DYING (ALSO more than always lakdjfwe) to go to the parlor. What public figure do you disagree with the most? I really can't say considering I'm just not educated enough here. What is your opinion on rats as pets? They are absolutely wonderful! Smart, sweet, and very clean despite their stigma. I've had quite a few. What is something you're afraid to try? Sky diving, the Tower of Terror ride. ;___; That kinda stuff. What song makes you dance uncontrollably? None. Do you like nachos, if so what topping is a MUST have? Cheese is all I really need for nachos. Do you have any subscriptions? Yes, to Adobe Creative Cloud. Which is better, Mario or Sonic? Mario games are cute, Sonic's make me cringe - I've watched enough Game Grumps to know lmao. I hate hate hate cringe culture, like let people enjoy whatever, but I absolutely cannot stop my cringe reaction to some shit. I don't judge the people that enjoy whatever it is, though. THAT pisses me off. Who is the most creative person you know? I've known Sara and Connie much too long to not say them. They have such vast imaginations. Besides a pickle, what is your favorite thing pickled? I've actually never tried anything pickled, I think... no wait. Aren't jalapenos? Well there, jalapenos. What did you do for your 21st birthday? If not, 21 what are your plans? I had my normal therapy sessions in the mental hospital lmfao. It's unfortunate, but I do have fond memories of the day. Everyone was so damn sweet, and the friend I made there even got in touch with one of the lunch ladies, who literally went to go buy me a slice of cake. She and the other employees in the kitchen brought it out at dinner, and everyone sang happy birthday. I think I remember tearing up just because it was so goddamn sweet, but also bittersweet in that I was in a fucking mental institution for my BIGGEST birthday. When I got out, Colleen bought me a red velvet cake to "make up for it," ha ha. I miss her every now and then alsdkjf;wae. Are you a role model for anyone in your life? Oh, I doubt it. Do you think you need to slow down and enjoy life more? I don't need to go any fucking slower in my life. Can you impersonate anyone famous? I don't believe so. Never really tried anyone. What is your favorite salty snack? Spicy Cheetos mmmmmmmmmMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM What is your favorite restaurant? Olive Garden for sit-down, Sonic for fast food. Have you ever been in a play for school? In elementary school. I never had a big roll, though. Do you wish you had more friends? Very much. What is the main character’s name in the book you’re reading? Aunt Lydia. Which famous author would you like to meet? I'm not particularly interested in any. Which artist would you like to meet? Hey hey hey. Mark's brother is a comic artist. Meet him, one step closer to meeting God Himself. (ง ͡ʘ ͜ʖ ͡ʘ)ง Which singer would you like to meet? OZZY sobs What celebrity do you have a crush on? Anyone who's even heard about a hint of my Markiplier obsession knows I would fuck him into oblivion. When you were in middle school, were you in love with someone you never talked to? No, I didn't romantically love anyone. Do you believe that there is an unseen spirit realm? I do. Martini, margarita, or sangria? YO STOP I'm weak with these things. I can't pick. Do you feel you are extremely gifted but no one appreciates you? No. I honestly feel like people have more faith in what I'm capable of than deserved. What Lisa Frank character is your favourite? The angel cat, probably. Or tiger. Do you know how to use Braille? No. When you use stairs, do you usually hold the rail? Currently, I have to because of my muscle atrophy. I need help to stay steady. Have you ever worn a veil? No. Have you ever planted a tree? We actually did plant an apple tree in our front yard at my childhood home. Never grew much. Have you ever made anything with clay? A number of things from art classes. Has today been a good day? No, honestly. Have you ever fed a horse hay? Yes. Are you more likely to text "Okay", "OK" or just "K"? "'Okay.' The other two are restricted for when I am in a mood and want someone to know I am in a mood." <<<< HA HA SAME. Do you like the taste of lime? Sure. Have you ever seen a mime (in real life)? Not to my recollection. Have you ever seen a deer (in real life)? Plenty of times; whitetails are common here. Right now, what can you hear? "Game Over" by Falling In Reverse. Have you ever seen a bear (in real life)? In the zoo, yes. I think there's a possibility I have in the wild, but only from a distance? Have you ever eaten glue? No. Do you tend to buy clothes used or new? New. If you have Netflix, how many items are in your queue? N/A

#survey #quiz #questions

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kriosv · 6 years ago

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Since I have seen both the DR3 anime subbed and dubbed, I feel like I should support my preferred version being the dubbed. With the dubbed version, they changed a lot of the idioms and metaphors, and they also add a few really cool lines for whenever the timing doesn't line up. I also wanted to give more context than the 'high'lights that a lot of people judge the dub on

Here are my favorites lines from the dub:

“When nature calls, you don't have to answer it with a megaphone” -Fuyuhiko to Nekomaru

“They are trying to Frankenstein a Deus ex Machina” -Munakata about Izuru

“Karma thou perverts, may darkness consume you” -Gundham to Teruteru/Kazuichi

“Only when we've been brought to our knees did it dawn on us what we should have stood for” -Tengan to Jin

“Spare me your modesty, people are rooting for you jackass!” -Gozu to Makoto

“I will kill you in the name of deliciousness” -My Boy Izayoi's motto

“You act as though heroes are created in a vacuum. I doubt our friends would've made it this far without you.” -Byakuya being strangely supportive of Makoto

“I'm about to get all kinds of unchivalrous” -The line that made me love Sakakura, that was way cooler than its subbed counterpart

“It's like gunpowder; you can either make a gun or a beautiful firework.” -Ryota Mitorai

“Victory is not the prerogative of war alone.” -Tengan

“Useless in life, a hassle in death. You can't make diamonds out of empty beer bottles” -I personally prefer this Sakakura line to the 'goldfish crap' metaphor from the sub

"The only mort I want to feel is le petit one." -The only Teruteru line I've ever liked

"Is that Mikan? Hey girl?" "Sorry, still a dude." -Hiyoko and Nagito greeting each other like old friends

I know there are plenty of good lines in the sub, and a lot of these have good counterparts, but I love the writing that is unique to it's dub and that's why it's my preferred version

#danganronpa

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xreaderbooks · 6 years ago

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To Light: Chapter VI

Okay so a little note there's gonna be a little inaccuracy just for this story the black sisters (more like narcissa and bellatrix) will all be at Hogwarts even though they would've long graduated and yeah.

MASTERLIST - pt.I, pt.II, pt.III, pt.IV,pt.V

Today September 1st is your holy day. Throughout the entire summer you haven't woken up as happy as today. Your fifth year at Hogwarts was just a few hours and a train ride away. It was 9 a.m when you woke up and made your bed, doing your quick morning routine, getting dressed in your slytherin uniform already to look classy and not trashy making sure you look as decent as you could this early so you wouldn't get any complaints from your mother. The train doesn't arrive at the platform until 11 so you had some time before leaving. You had already packed the night before so you grabbed your trunk and You looked back into your room to make sure you didn't forget anything before going downstairs to meet you parents for breakfast. "Good morning" you greeted your parents smiling, sitting down next to your mother. "Good morning" They replied. "I trust you remember what you must do." your mom said, giving you a look. Your smile vanished, you had forgotten about that. You were writing a letter to Beth about possibly going to a muggle concert with Flora and Andrew -the muggle band Queen was on tour and coming to London in october- Beth being a muggle and all would know all the details of getting us the tickets. You were about to send her owl back with your response when your mum snatched the letter,reading it. She obviously wasn't going to know about these plans, she'd have a fit knowing you would even acknowledge a muggle- she'd have an even bigger one if she knew i'm planning on hanging out with one. Just as you predicted she screeched "How could you!" taking her wand out and burning the parchment. "H-how dare you speak with that impure filth!" "She is not filth, she is my friend-" she raised her hand and brought it down with such force it knocked you out of your chair. "I forbid it! Never again will you speak to her or any of your friends again" she readjusted herself "That includes Flora" Your eyes widened "But she's a pu-" she interrupted "If she speaks to trash, she is trash, our family will have nothing to do with that." "You will have no further communication with any of them, not on the train, or Hogwarts anywhere at anytime or place" She looks you in the eye, her eyes burning with rage. It was filled with a pure hatred you could never understand. "And I will know if you come in contact with them. Do I make myself clear?" You felt your face turning hot and feeling defeated, you nodded. There is no way she would know, she didn't know til now all you had to do was hide it better. You looked down at your food "Yes, mother." ~~~

When you arrived at platform 9 3/4 you saw Beth, Flora and Andrew standing together talking, laughing, catching up. They'd probably be wondering why you stopped answering their owls. You wished you could go up to them and tell them how much you've missed them. As if your mother heard your thoughts- she grabbed a hold of your arm, whispering "Evan will be keeping a close eye on you at Hogwarts for me, he's waiting for you at the door right there." She pointed and lightly pushed you in the direction of Evan. Your friends saw you and waved but you turned your head quickly to where Evan was standing. You were afraid to look back at the group you were once apart of in case your mom would notice. Evan greeted you with a cheek kiss and held your hand guiding you to where him and the rest of the prejudice slytherins usually sit on their train ride to Hogwarts. "It's good to see you again darling." He said "And you, Evan" you replied in a dry tone. You both sat down in a compartment that was occupied by Mulciber, Avery, Antonin and Lucius. Already wishing you were back with your friends in your regular seat. "Well if it isn't Mr. and Mrs. Rosier!" Mulciber announced. You looked at Evan "Control your friends, Rosier." you threatened "Boys, We're still not married there's no need to call us that yet" Your fiancée continued You snatched you hand from his, got up and went to go sit with the girl version of the boys. "Where are you going?" Evan asked "you know i'm supposed to be watching you" "Relax, my love i'm just going to sit with the ladies" You said sarcastically with your teeth gritted. Two compartments over you spotted the black sisters Narcissa and Bellatrix. Cursing in your mind you decided to sit next with them, you didn't think your life would have to come to this but considering the situation there was no way you'd be able to sneak past the future group of death eaters and sit with your friends. You knocked on the door waiting for them to give you permission to go in. "May I sit here?" "(L/N), we've been waiting for the day you knock on our doorstep." Bellatrix teased, you internally rolled your eyes. "And why is that?" You asked "Being of a higher bloodline I expected us to be the best of friends you know, but imagine my surprise when I find out you've only delayed out friendship to associate yourself with the lesser beings." Bella leaned forward to your face as if challenging you to say something. You avoided her gaze focusing your vision on Narcissa expecting her to say anything. Though there wasn't much hope there, all of them were the same. You kept quiet as Bellatrix continued her speech about the filfth of muggle and muggle born kids, while calling out certain people that went to hogwarts, just awaiting the arrival at hogwarts. ~~~ The minute you got to Hogwarts you decided you would just skip dinner and be depressed in your dorm. Fate, Life, Karma whatever chose to mess around with you by having the three people you were forbidden to see appear in front of you. They had you cornered so you couldn't move past and ignore them. "Hey (y/n) where have you been this summer?" Andrew asked, one eyebrow raised. "I-I've been busy" you avoided their eyes. You heard a scoff and looked up, Flora was shaking her head. "Bullshit" she took a step closer and looked you up and down "you're one of them now" "What do you mean?" Beth looked confused. "(Y/N) what does she mean by that?" "She means I won't be talking to you guys anymore." You decided "I don't even know why I did in the first place." you faked a face of disgust while looking between Andrew and Beth. "Mudbloods and a pure-blood disgrace what was I thinking" You rose your head setting your eyes on Flora holding back your tears and hoping she could somehow read your mind and know you weren't serious, but her brown eyes were filled with anger. "Let's go guys" she said shoving past you. Your eyes were brimming with tears once they were out of sight you ran to the astronomy tower. You went up multiple stairs til you got to the stairs of the tower and stopped lightly gasping when you saw a guy sitting down leaning on the wall. Relaxing when you realized it was Sirius. "We've got to stop meeting like this (l/n)" he smiled. You smiled in return sitting across from him just like last year, your tears still pouring down. His eyes were red and puffy as well, you knew it was because he was crying too but didn't wanna ask. Both of you sat in silence for a while, looking at the stars it was a peaceful not awkward silence that you would definitely feel with anybody else. "Why aren't you at dinner?" Sirius spoke up. "Why aren't you" you joked lightheartedly, nudging your foot at his. He chuckled lightly, then stopping and looking at you, there was slight pause when he first attempted to speak "My mother, during the summer was...Difficult so to say" He stood up moving toward the railing, he had not yet changed into his robes and was wearing a leather jacket and a 'weird sisters' band shirt with black jeans and combat boots. You thought he looked good, you also thought any another girl in your position would swoon, your thoughts were soon interrupted by sirius speaking "I wanted some alone time to think." "About?" "Things" he turned around leaning on the railing, crossing his arms. "Wow you're sharing so much information" you teased. "I don't see you giving any details!" He threw his hands in the air. "There isn't any details to give, mine was just as interesting as yours." You shrugged "Well if there's any truth to that I apologize." He put a hand on your shoulder. 'If I liked him I'd be hella friend zoned right now' you thought. "Not your fault. We should get to our dorms" you said once the "moment" was over. "I think I'll stay a little longer" he said sitting down once again. "You sure?" you asked "Yeah, you should go." He responded, he ruffled your hair before you turned and left him alone with his thoughts on this quiet night. ~~~ The next morning you woke up ready to go to breakfast and hear all about the girls and Andrews summer, that is until you recalled what had happened the moment you stepped off the train to hogwarts. You then felt like you had 50 pound weight on your heart. There was no taking back what you said, it was done your mother was slowly getting what she wanted. Though you can't bear to lose all your friends - those friends being Lily Evans and (not that you'd admit it) the marauders. Eventually you knew that you would have to give them up, your slytherin "friends" would make you decide between them. But until then you decided you would still remain friends with the remaining people, however keeping a safe distance so that when the time comes it wouldn't be as hard to let go.During the following weeks you have been focusing on your studies (which made you figure out that without any distractions like friends you can actually excel in you classes), reading on your spare time and completely avoiding the astronomy tower and taking the longer route to and from classes that were in that part of the castle.

You haven't spoken to any of the marauders or Lily except for simple 'hellos' or 'goodbyes' which left them giving you strange looks when you walked away from them before they could start up a conversation. You were never one to talk so much anyways but now it was just obvious you were avoiding them, and of course they were curious.

It started with Lily every class you had together she would sit next to you before anyone else could, sparking up a one sided conversation. You felt bad but you knew you were being watched and for her sake you kept quiet making it seem as if she was bothering you.

They're next attempt was with Peter, oh poor sweet peter he couldn't even get a word in before your housemates felt the need to defend you from the 'rat' ;).

Next it was Remus whom you really couldn't complain that much about he just walked you to classes and sat next to you in the ones where you newfound friends weren't in (though he could defend himself well enough it didn't mean he wanted to get into trouble). Just sitting there, smiling at you as a greeting knowing you didn't want to talk but being there just in case. The thought of those moments made you smile. The remus plan ended and went on to James.

Ugh James, he was the least pleasant one. Always pestering you never caring who saw, whining and begging to know why you wouldn't speak to them sine you guessed that was the only goddamn thing he could think to do. You could of sworn you were going to pop off on him, instead you sighed and re thought your life and why you were ignoring them in the first place. Luckily you didn't have to deal with it that long after since he quit the next day.

Then it was the note: Astronomy Tower. Immediately you knew where it was from, it was a little past midnight when you got the letter so you knew he meant to meet now. Your thoughts were battling inside your mind whether to stay or to go. One side was telling you to stay, if you were to get caught leaving by any of your fiancees death eater friends you'd be good as dead. Now if you went you would be able to see sirius again and explain everything to him. It seems you don't care about your life or your mother watching or anything really because you chose the latter.

word count: 2,194

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ryik-the-writer · 6 years ago

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A03

Previous Chapters

Chapter 1: Pan meets a Wendy

Chapter 2: Scars (Felix’s Story)

Chapter 3: Day One

Chapter 4: Revenge and Fireflies

Chapter 5: Brighter than Stars

Chapter 6: filler: The Tigress

Chapter 7: Operation Spotless!

Chapter 8: Operation Spotless: Reporters Down

Chapter 9: A Dance with the Devil

Chapter 10: filler: Felix and the Pancake

Chapter 11: The Girl with Blue Eyes pt. 1

Chapter 12: The Girl with Blue Eyes pt. 2

Chapter 13: The Girl with Blue Eyes pt. 3

Chapter 14. Recovery

Chapter 14.2 Recovery some more

Chapter 15: Trapped

Chapter 16: Fairydust pt. 1

-,-,-,-,-,-

Pros of going home for the summer: free food (when someone goes bloody food shopping), free wifi (when someone plays the bloody bill) and my cats (no problems here they’re perfect).

Cons of going home for the summer: You lovely people get a chapter I finished at 4:30 in the morning because I can’t sleep with all these damn people going in and out of the living room I sleep in :) This is really just an idea I was tinkering (pun intended) with when I first began writing this story, so I thought now would be the time to incorporate it into the fic.

P.S. I’m sure some of you have heard of the wildfires in Greece. If you’d like to help, please try sending money and supplies to the Greece Red Cross.

-,-,-,-

The sound of muffled yelling greeted her as she reached Tink’s floor. Her defensive instincts broke through her tiredness and she readied for a fight. As she turned the corner she was surprised to see Felix standing outside the door, pacing in small circles and chewing on one of his thumbnails.

Wendy’s heart ceased its pounding when she saw that he wasn’t in fight-mode like her, but her spine remained straight as she edged closer. They exchanged worried glances, the yelling behind Tink’s door becoming more audible.

“We’ve been through this a thousand times, just leave me alone!”

“How dare you raise your voice at me!”

Wendy tensed at the sound unfamiliar and gritty female voice. Tink Le’Belle was beloved around town, even by Granny who was the closest thing to a rival she had. Who could she possible have as an enemy?

“I will raise my voice at whoever I want to! I’m twenty-three years old and you will not ever tell me what to do again!”

Wendy glanced at Felix, hoping he could relay an explanation to the commotion, but he looked too nervous to answer questions.

“You’re living in sin with that boy!”

“Not this crap again!”

“Oh God.” Felix moaned.

“Should we…intervene?” Wendy inquired as the two women continued to yell at each other.

“Absolutely not.” Felix sighed. “My presence just makes things worst. Not to mention the last time I got in the middle of them I had one of my worst seizures to date.”

“Who…” Before she could finish her question, the door burst open and a woman in a blue convent outfit stormed out of Tink’s apartment, causing both Wendy and Felix to jump out of her path. She spared a look Wendy’s way, but she paused to full-on glare at Felix, as if everything that the loud conversation that had occurred in Tink’s apartment was somehow his fault.

Felix matched her glare, his sharp jaw clenching in an unforgiving line. He’d always looked so fragile to Wendy, pale and lanky. However, compared to the woman in blue, who’s eyes were as hard as diamonds and spine as straight as a telephone pole, he seemed unabatingly powerful.

With a loud huff the woman stalked down the hallway to the stairs, leaving behind a confused Wendy and a seething Felix, who burst into Tink’s apartment as soon as the woman was out of sight.

Wendy paused to listen to Felix’s muffled apologies, her heart clenching when she heard a muffled feminine sob.

“She’s always doing this.” Tink cried quietly.

“We can still get a restraining order.” Felix returned soothingly. “She can make sure she never comes near you again.”

Wendy swallowed, feeling powerless, and for whatever reason, guilty. She was surrounded by so many mysteries and thus knew of no way to help anyone, especially the young woman who had been nothing but kind to her from day one. As she looked on at the comforting domestic scene in Tink’s living room, she wondered if she could help at all. Felix seemed to be giving her all the relief she needed because he whispered something into her ear and she giggled softly, the tears on her cheeks drying into the lines of her smile.

Wendy managed a small smile, but her heart remained heavy and her curiosity peaked.

Tink finally noticed her presence and sat up, wiping her eyes and smiling brightly.

“Hey,” she greeted. “How was your day?”

Oh god he’s dead!

You and Jekyll?

This is my business, my life! Stay the hell out of it you nosy pest!”

He’s my brother!

“Fine.” Wendy lied, holding her breath when she caught a phantom whiff of corpse and woods. “Is…everything okay here?”

Tink rolled her eyes. “Just some crap from my past I can’t seem to get away from.”

Wendy nodded. She could certainly understand that.

Tink stood, rubbing her hands together as she fell back into her usual mode.

“You want to order in? Or I’ve got a frozen pizza in the freezer…”

“Actually,” Wendy began, the subject she had wanted to bring up between her and Pan’s rescue from the evil turkey and the car ride pushing back into her attention. “I was thinking I’d use the rest of the night…to gather my things.”

“Oh…” Tink’s smile fell some, and Felix gave her an odd look.

“Yeah,” Wendy said, clenching and unclenching her hands. “I…had an experience today that helped me realize that I will be okay on my own. I think the bad karma’s left.”

Tink nodded, her smile sad but understanding.

“I hate to throw this on you now…” Wendy apologized.

“No! Not at all. This is a weekly occurrence.” Tink laughed, though the sound was strained.

A moment of silence followed, not tense but still unwelcomed. Wendy couldn’t understand why the lack of sound made her feel so nervous.

“I’ll pull the car around.” Felix suggested, bringing in just enough sound to ease the anxiety creeping through Wendy’s mind. When the door closed behind him, Tink stood and offered to help Wendy pack.

It took little to no time to gather Wendy’s toiletries (Wendy was ever the immaculate houseguest), however it took her and Tink a moment to find her clothes. The girls were about the same size and borrowed each other’s clothing, which only now had become an issue.

“I can just come back for anything I leave.” Wendy assured as Tink ruffled through her closet.

“No, it’s that lace shirt, the one you made yourself? I’ll never give it back if you leave it here.”

Wendy nodded. The shirt was one she made back during her fabrication phase that had somehow survived despite the frail fabric.

Wendy turned and began going through her drawers. Her hands scaled through a cluster of t-shirts until her fingertips grazed something cold. She held her breath, praying that she didn’t pull out something totally nonsensical like a gun or a sex toy. A quick peak assured her that it was neither of those things and she pulled the object out with a sigh of relief.

It took her a moment to understand what she was looking at. It was old and heavy, obviously some kind of silver that needed a good polish, with cloudy jewels running down the middle. It looked like an old cross, the ancient kind one would see in historic cemeteries, only this one was broken towards the bottom, as if it had been sawed in half.

“Please be careful with that!” Tink cried when she finally noticed Wendy. She took the object from Wendy’s hand, holding it close to her chest. “It’s really old.”

“I can see that.” Wendy said. “What is it?”

Tink placed the object on her dresser, running a finger down its cold metallic surface.

“It’s part of a cross my parents left behind when they gave me up.”

Wendy watched her friend, the information she just released hitting her immediately. Was there anyone in this town who didn’t have a horrible family secret?

The way Tink had said it however wasn’t necessarily sad, but accepting of the situation. Still, it made Wendy wonder what kind of parents could give up someone like Tink.

“I’m…sorry.” Wendy said, unsure of what else she could say. “I didn’t mean to pry.”

“No, it’s fine.” Tink assured. “It’s just…today brought up some bad memories.”

“That women…” Wendy led.

Tink rolled her eyes. “The head nun from the convent. Mother Superior. More like Mother pain in my ass!”

Wendy calmed a growing smirk. “Is she technically your mother, or…”

“Surrogate, but just barely.” Tink sat down on the end of her bed and Wendy took it as an invitation to join her. It was time for another story, it would seem.

“I was left on the doorstep of the nunnery shortly after I was born. According to my file I had some of my umbilical cord still attached.”

Wendy gasped. “Oh my.”

“The nuns took me in, raised me, and Mother Superior was there to monitor every waking second of my life.”

A dark thought entered Wendy’s mind and she hesitated only for a moment before voicing it.

“She didn’t…do anything to you, did she?” To her surprise, Tink snorted in response.

“Geez Wendy Darling, get your head out of the Twilight Zone. You’ve been spending too much time around Pan.”

“Tell me about it.” Wendy muttered. “But back to you, why was she here earlier?”

“The same reason she always stops by: she’s trying to get me to join the convent permanently.”

Wendy blinked, trying to envision Tink in the same stuffy outfit Mother Superior had been wearing instead of her ripped jeans and green tank top. It just didn’t seem plausible.

“At eighteen, any of the children who live at the convent get to choose to convert or go out on their own.” Tink explained. “I chose to leave, and she’s been trying to pull me back ever since.”

“Why didn’t you want to stay? Free rent, three meals a day. It might be a set routine but you’d never be without a home.”

“That place was never a home.” Tink said. “It was a building I lived in. Sure, there were good people in there, and I was never cold or hungry, but Mother Superior made it so constraining. I could never have friends or wear what I wanted. I couldn’t even watch TV or listen to music! I’m the only person in town who didn’t know who Lana del Rae was!”

Wendy chuckled but straightened up quickly. “You decided to leave and make your own decisions. Nothing wrong with that.”

“Well it…wasn’t just wanting to get out of the convent.” Tink said with a small smile. “It was the people I met, Lily Tirgress, Pan…and Felix.”

“Ah.” Wendy smiled. “You fell in love.”

“Well, not at first.” Tink scoffed, leading both girls to laugh.

“Well, details.” Wendy insisted.

“Let’s see…I was home-schooled up until eighth grade. I wanted to live during my last years of school, so I begged Mother Superior to let me enroll, suggested a “religious” presence might influence the other students.”

“Clever.” Wendy commented.

“Believe it or not, it was Pan’s suggestion, but that’s a different story. Anyway, I was enrolled into Storybrooke High and smoking cigarettes in the girls’ locker room by the third day.”

Wendy laughed. Her high school experience involved her eating lunch in the library and becoming a legend after she nearly set the home economics room on fire when one of the sewing machines started smoking.

“By the time graduation came around, I was ready to permanently transition into the real world. Felix and I even discussed getting a place together before…” Tink paused, a painful glint flashing in her deep green eyes.

“What happened?” Wendy pressed carefully.

“Felix had his accident.” Tink relayed, the words sounding heavy on her tongue. “His parents were killed and he spent a few months healing. It put a damper on our plans.”

Wendy thought about the scar that ran over Felix’s face. She had figured he had sustained it from an accident, but hadn’t realized the severity of it’s origins.

“Mother Superi-ass said it was God’s punishment.” Tink said, her voice hard as diamonds. “I was out of the convent in an hour.”

Wendy thought of something to say. She and her girlfriends back home never had conversations this deep.

“Things…seem better now.” She tested.

“They are.” Tink agreed, her spirit’s lifting. “I have a good job, a good boyfriend, and most days good friends when Pan isn’t being an ass. I have a good life.”

Wendy noted just a twinge of hesitation when she said the last bit, but her smile was convincing enough that she didn’t press for more. Then again, why would she press for more? This was Tink’s business, and details on her life should be given, not inquired upon.

Still, Wendy’s natural curiosity was peaked, and she needed to leave before she asked anything Tink wasn’t ready to share.

“You can keep the shirt.” Wendy declared. “Consider it a thank you for…everything.”

Tink blushed and nudged Wendy with her hip.

“Deal.”

-,-,-,-,-

“Wendy?”

Something was touching her hair.

“Wendy!”

Something was pulling it.

The intern journalist just up from her desk, her mind going into an instant panic before her blurry surroundings became clearer.

Pan was standing at her desk, hands shoved in his pockets, revealing his innocence.

“God your hair looks awful.”

Wendy sighed, her brain hardly awake to deal with his insults.

“Then I suggest you never cut yours this length. What do you want?”

“The janitor said you’ve been here since 4. Did Tink kick you out?”

Wendy shook her head as her heartbeat returned to its normal pace.

Upon her return to her apartment last night, she was met with instant regret with her brave decision to move back to her place. Every noise made her heart skip a beat and every shadow looked like it was coming towards her. She had kept all her lights on and had headed to the paper as soon as one of the janitors had come to unlock the doors at 4 a.m. She had meant to keep herself busy, but the second she had sat at her desk she crashed.

“I um…wanted to get started on the Jekyll story.”

“Already wrote it. Come with me to the printers, give it a look.” He stormed off before she could reply, giving her the chance to notice that his limp was nearly nonexistent now, though she could still see the ghosts of several scars he had accumulated in the last few weeks.

She followed him cautiously, recalling their last encounter. His coldness, and then his confusing revelation about Gold. Why had he done that, and what had he thought it would accomplish revealing to her?

What would it change between them?

She was barely in the room before Pan shoved a sheet of paper in her hands.

BODY OF FORMER MORTICIAN FOUND IN CAR

“Former mortician?” Wendy scoffed, her skin crawling. “That’s much too nice for what he was.”

Pan shrugged before busying himself with something. “Glass wouldn’t let me use “Ex-sociopath dead, good riddance”.”

Wendy hid a smile and read through the article, checking off the details in her head. It was cut and dry, omitting the details about how her and Pan were held captive in the car by a turkey. Coroner details provided that Jekyll had been killed the night he had held Wendy and Pan captive and that no fingerprints or other evidence had been found.

“Oh no.” Wendy gasped when she got to the third paragraph.

“…with Jekyll’s body being found on his property, Booth will be held for questioning...”

“Sheriff Graham doesn’t really believe he had anything to do with it does he?” Wendy inquired out loud.

“Would he be in an interrogation if he didn’t?” Pan snarked.

Wendy glared at him and laid the story down. “And you’re not concerned? You two were…” Wendy stopped herself. Assuming that anyone was anything to Pan was dangerous, and really just an argument-starter.

“We were what?” Pan smirked, his eyes filled with a dangerous darkness.

Drop it.

“Something.” Wendy breathed, the word flowing out so easily despite how hard she had tried to contain it.

The silence that followed her declaration was heavy, and shifted the possibility of peace for the two of them away.

Pan’s glare was strong, but he gave no comeback, no insult or jab to her person. Because for once (as far as he was concerned at least) she was indeed correct. But not about August.

She had used that same word when she described Jekyll. Something.

He was something with everyone in his life, even to those he deemed dearer to him then most (but they would never know it).

They weren’t lovers, or friends, and they sure as hell weren’t family. Those words were too personal. They were just something.

But you’re not just something, Wendy.

“If he’s innocent, Graham will snuff it out and he’ll be free.”

Wendy shook her head, the idea that he was still pretending he didn’t care astonishing her. She’d seen his vulnerable side enough times already.

Why is he still cutting me out?

“Whatever.” Wendy sighed, shoving the story back to him. “I have something else I wanted to talk to you about anyway.”

Pan paused, his stomach curling with anticipation. It had to be about Gold. Why the hell had he told her about him!

“Well?” Pan introduced, leaning against the desk casually while his heart drummed in his chest.

Wendy worried her lip, the subject she was about to approach having followed her home and distracted her from the darker parts of her mind.

“What do you know about Tink’s parents?”

Pan blinked, the question catching him completely off guard. When the hell had Tink told her about that? And how had he not known that she had told her? He realized he hadn’t spent a lot of time around them lately but…

“Why…do you want to know that?” Pan inquired quickly.

“So you do know something?”

“Perhaps, but answer my question first.”

Wendy frowned, calling his bluff. “You know bullocks.”

“Any knowledge I have is some that you do. That’s…” he smirked. “something.”

“Wanker.” Wendy growled. But he had a point. He had roots in Storybrooke and knew where each one led.

“Fine.” Wendy surrendered. “The…head nun came to Tink’s apartment last night. She was really upset and then she brought up how she was abandoned at the convent. I thought maybe someone had to see something that night. Sheriff Graham wasn’t even an officer then so…you’re my only option. You…have a way of finding buried things.”

“True.” Pan agreed cockily. “But you might not want to go digging for this skeleton, little bird.”

“And just why not?”

“Because it’s too personal.” Pan answered, his tone changing to genuine concern. “Not to mention if Tink wanted to know about her parents, she would have gone digging for the information when she turned 18. She didn’t want to know then, and nothing’s changed.”

“You don’t know that.” Wendy retorted. “You didn’t see her face. Maybe there’s something else, information she wasn’t given. Something I can find for her.”

Pan’s eyes lowered, and Wendy could only imagine what he was thinking.

“You mentioned yesterday that you and Glass came across records, in the library?”

“Yes.” Wendy nodded. “He mentioned that it was the town’s storage unit.”

“Start there. The nuns keep crap there as well. Then check the newspaper archives.”

Wendy nodded, smiling gratefully before turning to run out of the print room. “Thank you. Let Glass know I’m taking the day off.”

“I’m not your fucking secretary!” he yelled after her, feeling surprisingly unfulfilled when she didn’t respond.

The silence that followed her departure seeped into his mind, echoing, drumming his senses.

Oh no…

Not the quiet.

Pan grabbed as stack and printing paper and hurled it at the window. He breathed in relief when the clattering sound filled the room.

He quickly turned on the printer to fill the void, his mind racing as fast as the papers on the belt.

Wendy hadn’t asked about Belle, or about their fight yesterday. She hadn’t even wanted to continue talking about Jekyll or August or the rest of the filth they encountered on their latest adventure. Didn’t she want to know?

Didn’t she still care?

Why is she cutting me out?

-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Now that she was standing outside of the library where nine days ago she almost met a ghastly end, Wendy wondered if finding out Tink’s past was worth the panic attack she felt coming on.

Police tape and a fresh lock closed off the door she and Glass had gone through during their research session. They had tried to solve the mystery of Belle’s disappearance on their own, but all they had accomplished was another trip to the hospital.

Jekyll and Pinnock were dead, and the police force had raided their underground prison for more danger. There was nothing to be afraid of, yet she was still terrified. Maybe she should have asked Pan to come along. His company was better than the crippling silence that usually followed her around.

She turned on her cellphone flashlight, her hand shaking as she used the light to find a different entry. She wasn’t even sure what to look for, or even if she would find anything at all. This town had so many secrets under its charming facade. Jekyll’s was literally buried underground. She could only imagine where Tink’s would lead her to.

Without much searching Wendy managed to find a window. Heavy from year of untreated rust, it took some effort to open and crawl through it, resulting in Wendy scrambling for a grip on the wall when her foot got caught in the window. With an annoyed huff, she snatched her foot forward, freeing her but causing her to fall face-first into the dusty library floor.

“Ow.” she groaned as she pulled herself up, rubbing her chin from the impact. Otherwise unscathed, she picked herself up and shown her phone light around the room. She was surrounded by mountains of boxes, all covered in layers of dust and unmarked.

“Great.” Wendy huffed. “This is going to take a while.”

Four hours later, Wendy’s hands were caked black and her nose was pink from sneezing so much. But, miracles of miracles, she had finally found a box of files from the year Tink was born.

She had the files spread out by month, squinting through the contents for anything to do with a found baby. She was relying solely on the light peeking through the boarded windows, her phone battery having gotten too low to support the flashlight any longer.

Finally, she found a file labeled “Convent infant: 1991” and Wendy hissed in self-congrats. She flipped the file open, her eyes instantly falling on a photo of an infant labeled “Margatink La’Belle”. Wendy smiled at the picture of her friend, the idea that she was once small and helpless instead of the confident woman she was now.

She carefully through the details of the file, all of which was cut and dry and containing the same details Tink had described: a nun had heard her crying and found her on the steps of the convent. The nuns called the police but with the convent not having cameras at the time, the person (or people) who dropped Tink off remained unfound.

Wendy sighed when the information ended, leaving her in a dead end. Closing the file, she headed to the archives in the back, hoping any story that was published on the incident would have more information.

Her head was throbbing by the time she found articles from October 1991. There was mostly small-town drabbles, such as construction at the diner and new playground equipment. Wendy wondered briefly when exactly Storybrooke became as hectic as it had when she arrived.

A picture of a bundled baby caught Wendy’s attention, and the headline caused her heart to pound with excitement.

NEWBORN BABY ABANDONED AT CONVENT

“Newborn…” Wendy mused, reading ahead.

Sister Corrine Blue, 17, discovered the abandoned infant shortly after 1 a.m. Wednesday night. A doctor’s analysis showed that the baby was just over a week old and still had an umbilical cord stomp in her belly button.

“Poor Tink.” Wendy sighed.

The baby was abandoned with a wicker basket, flannel shirt, and a broken metal cross. The other half of the cross has yet to be located.

“We’re very grateful that the child is healthy, and the Sisters of Saint Meissa will do everything to make her comfortable until social services decide on a plan of action.” Blue said.

Wendy read through the article again, look carefully for other details that she may have missed the first time. The only addition information she found was a small article stating that the convent had been allowed to adopt her. It would seem that Tink’s story ended there, but Wendy knew that it was the event leading up to her adoption into the convent that was most important.

After snapping photos of the pictures in the articles, she pulled out her notebook and began making a list of possible interviewees. Mother Superior was already at the top, being that she had taken responsibility for Tink’s upbringing. If she found Tink, then she might have seen something else. Then, of course, was Sheriff Graham. He may not have been sheriff then, but he could still tell her who his predecessor was. And finally, the author of the article, Sydney Glass.

As Wendy ready through the list, another name came to mind. It was a long shot, but any information anyone could provide would help.

Especially if that particular person owned the town and knew every corner of its happenings.

Mr. Gold.

-,-,-,-

Part two is almost done, but damn if this chapter wasn’t 8000+ words and bordering on 23 pages! It would have taken me months to edit!

#ryik's fics #Darling Pan #darling pan fic #papers and sleuthers #Wendy Darling #peter pan #Tinkerbell

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