#literally everything you’ve done to those boys I couldn’t imagine doing to my own kid if I had one

[sinnbaddie]

Idc if they made up, what Splinter did to Donnie during demo derbie was messy and I’ll always hold a grudge against him even with his backstory

[byunmyeon]

Philophobia

↳ pairing: lee suho x reader

↳ synopsis: in a world where a red string connects soulmates, everyone knows who they belong with. except you, who hasn’t been able to see your string since you were a kid.

↳ warnings: language (like one word), a copious amount of angst and heartbreak

— note: there’s a serious lack of suho fics out there so I decided to write my own. lmk if you guys want me to write a second part!

There was something inexplicably eerie about being the new girl in a school that was twice the size of your old one. Not because it was an unfamiliar setting, nor was it because you were painfully shy and terrible at making friends. It wasn’t even your disparaging insecurities that had you feeling so shook. No, it was something you couldn’t put your finger on, something you couldn’t begin to name. A discomfort you could feel all the way down to your bones.

Your inordinate unease swelled into full blown panic with every step you took toward your new classroom. Somewhere in your unorganized mind, you could hear your mom’s reassuring voice. Everything will be okay. You didn’t know if her words held any truth, but you really, really, really hoped she was right. You were being stupid, honestly. There was nothing to fear, but you couldn’t shake the foreboding feeling from your stature. Despite all the undesirable emotions you felt, your breathing was normal and your heartbeat was steady.

It took you a minute to gather yourself. You could do this.

After a very ineffectual pep talk, you finally got your feet to move. Your eyes were cast down as you entered the classroom. The rowdy classroom went silent once your presence became known. You swallowed the nerves and chanced a glance at your new classmates. The reactions were a mixture of curiosity and disinterest.

When your teacher introduced you to the class, you decided to really look at your new classmates. Among the sea of unfamiliar faces, one stuck out. An unnaturally attractive face belonging to an unfamiliar boy. His stare was strange. It was full of an intensity you couldn’t comprehend. You kept staring, in spite of yourself. Fuck. Was it possible for someone to be so attractive?

The clapping of your classmates pulled you back into reality. You were quick to look elsewhere, unable to understand the sudden lurch of your heart.

Suho couldn’t take his eyes off the new girl, more specifically, the string neatly wrapped around her index finger. He watched her carefully. The shy smile she wore was annoyingly adorable, and it made a foreign warmth spread across his chest and along his entire body. The new girl didn’t spare him another glance as she took her seat next to Jugyeong.

Lim Jugyeong.

He wasn’t her soulmate and she wasn’t his, but she was the girl who had unknowingly stolen his heart. That wasn’t about to change because some stranger who he was supposedly meant to be with came into his life with no warning.

Suho looked back to the front of the classroom without looking at the new girl again.

The first time it happened, you wrote it off as fatigue. After all, you had just started middle school and trying to keep up with your new workload as well as your budding social life was exhausting. That day, the color of your string had faded a bit, but it was still visible. By the time you were on your way home it disappeared for a mere second before regaining its color. Days later, it was completely gone.

When your mom first found out you could no longer see your string, she became extremely distraught. It had affected her more than it did you, honestly. She wasted no time in taking you to see countless specialists and psychologists. Anything to keep you from becoming a freak that didn’t know who they were meant to be with. She unknowingly made you feel exactly like that.

Apparently, you were a rare case because every person you went to for help wanted to conduct a study on you and your condition. Fortunately for you, your mom didn’t want you becoming a lab rat and decided to stop seeking out help from strangers. Left with no other option, you went to one person who she believed could help you. An old friend of hers.

He wasn’t a specialist, just a regular doctor who came to the conclusion that a deep, scarring trauma had caused you to no longer see your string. You could remember the heartbreak on your mom’s face because you both knew what that trauma was.

Your mom did her best to help you. Spending more time together and countless hours of therapy did nothing for your condition. Nothing worked. You became convinced that trying to see your string again was futile.

And you were right.

As time went on, you grew used to the unease that had latched itself onto you on that first day. The feeling in your bones settled in like an unwelcome guest who refused to leave. No matter what you did, you couldn’t shake the feeling. Eventually, you gave up trying.

However, something shifted when you crossed paths with Lee Suho.

You two had been put in the same group for a science lab. His attention had been solely on Lim Jugyeong, but there were times when your eyes would meet. Those milliseconds were just that, but to you they felt like an eternity. He rarely addressed you, but when he did, you could feel the pressure weighing on your bones fade bit by bit. That familiar feeling soon shifted into a more comfortable presence that you yearned to feel forever.

It was subtle, but at some point, Suho’s emotionless face changed. The change would last for no more than a second, but it always did when he looked at you. That change had your entire stature seeping with warmth. You vaguely recognized the feeling as something akin to infatuation.

It scared you.

Of course, the possibility that he might be your soulmate crossed your mind, but you quickly dismissed that thought.

Too many times had you gotten in trouble for insisting someone was your soulmate when they really weren’t. Any special bond or feelings that grew between you and someone else couldn’t always be interpreted as the ones between soulmates. You learned that the hard way.

Besides, your soulmate would make it clear to name themselves as such even if you couldn’t see the string.

At least, you hoped they would.

Philophobia.

Before you went into high school, your mom insisted you see one last psychologist with the promise that the one she found was different. Reluctantly, you went to see this woman who diagnosed you with this absurd illness. You felt like it was made up, but your mother was adamant that you did have it.

You knew she only thought that because you had told her you no longer had any interest in finding your soulmate. Her panic was unrivaled after hearing those words come out of your mouth. You wrote off her panic because your disinterest in soulmates was only natural. How could it not when—at the time—it was all your friends could talk about? Talk about being the odd man out.

Okay, and maybe you also weren’t keen on meeting new people because of the fear that they could easily ignore the string you couldn’t see. There was also the fear that if you ever did meet someone you wanted to spend your life with, they could end up not being your soulmate and vice versa.

But those feelings would all fade with time, you were sure.

Hanging out near the back of the school where no one ever went became a regular thing for you. It was the one spot where you didn’t have to worry about your soulmate or anything related to that—a safe place. Until it wasn’t.

“You can’t just ignore the bond you have with her.”

The angry voice was one you vaguely recognized. You peeked around the corner, eyes widening when you saw Han Seojun and Lee Suho in the middle of what appeared to be an argument.

“Why are you bringing that up?” Suho’s eyes narrowed. “Do you still like Jugyeong?”

Seojun’s gaze hardened. “It’s not about that.”

It was wrong to listen on what was clearly meant to be a private conversation, but your feet wouldn’t move. You could see Suho’s anger and irritation from your hiding place, and for some reason seeing him that way made a blistering discomfort latch itself onto your chest.

“You’re being unfair to Jugyeong and Y/N.”

The mention of your name had your insides twisting into an uncomfortable knot. You didn’t understand why or how you had anything to do with the discussion, but you had a feeling the reason wasn’t anything good.

“Just because she’s my soulmate doesn’t mean I owe her anything.”

There was a sharp pain in your chest, one that grew into a searing pain as the seconds ticked by. You might’ve cried out in pain had it not been for the shock that consumed you. In a sudden instant, your vision became blurred with tears as you staggered back. His words were the worst form of torture, like a piece of barbed wire that wrapped itself around your heart.

Your fate was a cruel one, forever bound to someone who refused to acknowledge the bond between you two. Lee Suho was your soulmate, but he didn’t want to be.

It was a cruel reality to have your worst nightmare come to life.

“Is it true?”

Suho raised an eyebrow at you. His gaze didn’t soften like it once did. Now it just remained impassive, almost annoyed. The cold look he was giving you was making you regret even coming to him in the first place.

“Are you really my soulmate?”

“Why are you acting like you don’t know?” Suho’s unaffected stare unsettled you. “You’ve known since the first time we saw each other.”

But you hadn’t known. This entire time you had been driving yourself crazy thinking you were only imagining the connection between you two like you had done countless times after you first lost the sight of your string. Despite wanting to tell him that, you settled for a question.

“What about Jugyeong? Don’t you think she—?”

“Are you going to tell her?” He interrupted you.

You could literally hear your heart crack. Of course that’s all he cared about. He didn’t care whether or not you were hurt and upset, hell, he probably thought you had no interest in your soulmate. But he was wrong, so very wrong.

“Why?” He demanded. “You don’t want me as your soulmate either. You’ve been ignoring the bond, too.”

I can’t see my string! You nearly yelled. The words were clawing at your throat, eager to be released. But you found yourself unable to tell him the truth.

“My soul chose yours,” you said, close to tears. “And a soul just doesn’t forget that.”

For a moment, one that was so quick you thought you imagined it, Suho looked remorseful. Stupidly, it made you hope that he would accept you and the bond that bounded you together.

“Don’t tell her.” His voice didn’t sound like a plea, but you knew what he was asking you to do was clearly important to him. “I can’t loose her.”

And so, you agreed. Even if it meant that your own heart would be left in tatters.

[linkspooky]

Dabi’s Self Suicide

I don’t know if you’ve noticed this, but Dabi is someone who has a tendency to make things about himself. In the League of Villains which is identifiably a group dynamic, Dabi takes every available opportunity to insist that he is alone, he is just along for the ride. A single man, with a single conviction, should be enough to change the world. He has a tendency to act like he’s the most important one here, he’s the one whose going to bring an end to hero society all on his own and yet at the same time he has no sense of identity. He has no self. He doens’t even have a name. Hawks asks him his name and he literally responds with [redacted]. I think this paradox of Dabi’s is at the core of figuring out who he is, and who he is not. 

1. Father Feelings

There’s something important to understand about Dabi, and just like always it starts with the family. I don’t think a lot of people realize how truly unfeeling, callous, cold towards Dabi Endeavor really was. I know we all, even I have used the golden child / scapegoat dynamic to describe Dabi and Shoto, but one important detail is that Dabi wasn’t always the scapegoat, he was the golden child at first. 

More important than Endeavor’s own feelings, is Dabi’s in this flash back. From the start, Dabi thought he was a normal kid in a normal family. He thought he had a normal dad. He even liked his super cool hero dad. Dabi wanted to train with him, wanted his attention and time, but these are just things a normal kid wants. 

However, Dabi was conceived of for very abnormal reasons. From the start, going into the whole affair, Endeavor’s intentions were wrong. Dabi was expected to carry on Endeavor’s legacy for him, he was the center of his attention, the center of his world. Dabi tried his best to carry all of those expectations as much as he reasonably could. 

However, there is literally nothing Dabi could have done in that situation to satisfy Endeavor. It’s not even about being born with the wrong quirk. It’s Endeavor who was wrong. From the start, Endeavor wasn’t interested in having a child or loving a child, but rather having a miniature Endeavor, Touya was just a vessel, to carry all of Endeavor’s hopes and dreams and live vicariously through him. However, that’s impossible.E ven if Touya had been born with the right quirk, that was impossible. You can’t live through another person. Touya’s success never would have been Endeavor’s. Endeavor would hae resorted to the exact same abuse, manipulation, control. Touya was never meant to be his own person, and that’s why even now, even becoming Dabi who is the rejection of everything Endeavor is, he still forms his entire personhood around Endeavor. It’s not that kids choose to form their personhood around their parents, they have to form themselves around their parents, we literally learn how to be people by interacting with other people especially during the developmental years. The same ones that Touya died during. 

Endeavor’s actions towards Touya is that he not only made Touya carry all of his emotions for him, he made Touya bear the brunt of his hurt feelings, all of his expectations, but then when Touya couldn’t carry them He blamed Touya. He tossed him aside. He made Touya feel, that something was wrong with Touya, and that was why he was no longer getting his father’s attention. It’s not anything Touya did, or anything Touya could do about, Touya was literally born wrong. 

It’s literally what he crawled to Natsuo asking. Yet, still Touya tried to fix himself. He was the golden child, now he’s the scapegoat, and Touya feels he did something wrong, so he keeps trying to fix himself, keeps trying to train on his own, and it doesn’t work because it could never work until it results in his eventual suicide and then how does Endeavor refer to it. 

Touya was just another tragic accident. Just a little mistake, along the road to creating Shoto. I’m not trying to explain away any of Dabi’s actions, just explain the way that Dabi regards himself, rather, Dabi literally has no sense of self at all. It’s been completely smashed to pieces. It’s ash. it’s dust. It’s just gone. Dabi’s name may as well just be [redacted]. There was also once a time that Shoto worried that he was more like his father within himself, but he got help from the people around him to realize he’s his own person, help that Dabi never got. 

2. Sins of the Father

So it’s like a genetic trait in the Todoroki family to be completely self absorbed, and dense to the emotions of other people, to the point where you don’t really see other people’s feelings. Like father, like son, like other son. However, Endeavor’s just like that, whereas Dabi and Shoto were made that way. Imagine what it was like to be Shoto, to be constantly told, you’re different from them, you’re the special one, you’re the chosen one. To the point where you couldn’t even play with your siblings, or be a part of everyone’s normal lives, no you were forced to be special. Shoto is oblivious to other people’s emotions because he was literally forcibly separate from other people, and even his mother who was his strongest emotional tie during literally most of his developmental years. 

Empathy is literally formed by interacting with people. You can’t form it or even have it, if your interactions with people are cut off and severely limited. You learn about how other people feel by normal social interaction, something that both Touya and Shoto were eventually cut off from. Touya from dying, Shoto from his mother being hospitalized. After that their ability to form connections with others was severely hampered. 

One funny thing about Shoto is he kind of acts like he’s the protagonist of his own narrative. So does Bakugo. That’s why he goes “Get out of the way all you extras.” Shoto’s the one with the tragic backstory. Shoto’s the one with this motivation to defy his father’s wishes. However, Shoto’s not the main character, he’s not the hero of the story, and it’s actually important that he’s not because the literal setting of the story is a society where everyone has the potential to be a hero. Kind of like how the point of Miles Morales story is that everyone can be spiderman. Shoto, also doesn’t really want to be a main character, or special boy, all Shoto has ever wanted was to connect with his siblings, to have the normalcy that everyone else has. In a society where everyone, even his own father is so desperately trying to stand out, Shoto wants the safety and security of normalcy. 

So you kind of have this paradox in Shoto’s head. Shoto kind of thinks of himself as a main character, even though that’s not really what he wants to be, just because that’s what’s been forced into his head the entire life. The emotional isolation of an abusive parent still ahs an effect on you, even when you’re aware, like Shoto was, that what Endeavor was saying was wrong. No one can grow up properly in isolation, that’s why kids need to interact with other kids and grow up together. 

So, I think the utlimate explanation for Dabi’s attitude towards the rest of the league is this. I’m the main villain. I’m the biggest threat. I’m the one who is going to bring an end to hero society all on my own. 

Once again this ties back to Shoto’s trauma, and Dabi’s. Touya didn’t want to be the special one, he was forced to be. Touya thought he was a normal kid, with a normal dad until he suddenly wasn’t. Then, Touya tried his hardest to be the special one until he literally broke his body, and his dad went no nevermind, turns out you were an extra. 

Saying Dabi is just doing this for Endeavor’s attention is oversimplifying. There’s a need to give a narrative to pain. Shoto even does it. Shoto literally narrates his life, he dumps his life story on everyone who will listen. People who are traumatized, want to give some sort of special meaning to their trauma, they want to feel important, because that in some way might justify what happened to them. If they can’t feel loved, they can try feeling important, like someone who mattered. Otherwise, Dabi is literally just someone who died and got forgotten. Otherwise, he’s just a sad little mistake, the same way his father regards him. Dabi can’t let the league in, because he has to do this on his own to prove he’s special. 

Dabi has this very individualistic and self centered approach to changing the world. He has to do it all on his own. He has to play mastermind. He was to orchestrate Endeavor’s rise and fall, and once again these are coping behaviors. Touya couldn’t control his abandonment, he had no agency in that, so he tries to pretend he’s in control of everything now. Even Dabi burning himself, his self-harming,it’s pain he’s in control of because he’s doing it to himself, father isn’t forcing him to train until he breaks anymore. 

Shoto sees himself as a main character. Dabi sees himself as the main villain. 

However, at the same time. Dabi hates himself. He loathes himself. It comes out in his self loathing behaviors, but more than that every thing Dabi does is an act of self destruction. Dabi has no feelings, no friends, no family, because he’s trying to destroy all those things. 

Dabi has no sense of self, because Endeavor has ruined him to the point where he’s still Endeavor’s empty vessel after all these years of separation from him. Dabi has no self, and also he doesn’t want one. He doesn’t want to grow past this point. 

Dabi has entirely fictionalized his life. That’s why he makes a dramatic reveal. Hee wants to turn his life into a tragedy, where he is the main character, where he is the one that Shoto and Endeavor cannot save. Because at least this way, he will not be forgotten. Unable to grasp for love, he tries to grasp for some kind of improtance, to change the world instead. In that scenario, it makes sense Dabi would distance himself from the league. I don’t think Dabi knows what his true feelings towards theleague are. In fact, I don’t even think he thinks about them. Who cares about what his feelings are? They are entirely separate from what he must do. Any feelings he has, any regrets, are going to burn away when he explodes like a bomb to ruin his father’s life. 

Dabi’s wavering motivations, his constant flipping between different emotions, like he’s channel surfing, I dont’ believe we’re supposed to read into every single thing he says, but rather notice how constantly he’s changing what he’s saying, because Dabi has no stable sense of self. We’re also supposed to see why he has no stable sense of self, because he’s all alone. 

This is the climax of Dabi’s big revenge play, it was supposed to end here, with the tragic protagonist dying. However, I think it’s actually really important in this arc that Dabi gets upstaged. Dabi is not the main character, Dabi’s not even the main villain. He’s not even the only character whose the descendant of a hero. It’s also, really important that Compress is the one who upstages his reveal.

What’s that? You thought I was a background character! It turns out I had this important motivation all along. The pacing is weird but it does achieve the intended effect. Dabi thought this was his moment, but that was actually bad for him. Dabi’s main flaw is that he tries to do all of these things along, but he’s not the only one who dreams of a better world. Dabi, Toga, Shigaraki, Mr. Compress says that all of their dreams are important at the same time. They are all simultaneously main characters. 

Dabi doesn’t get to have his moment, but I think it’s narratively important that he didn’t get to have it, because Dabi does no favors for himself by cutting himself off from the league. It’s meant to be a character flaw, Dabi shouldn’t get his revenge play, because his revenge play ends up with him dying at the end to spite Endeavor one fainly time. Dabi can’t achieve his dreams, because he hasn’t figured out who he is, or even who he wants to be yet. He just knwos what he doesn’t want to be. He just knows what he’s not. He’s not Endeavor. However I don’t think there’s going to be some big twist reveal about his character where he’s like, I secretly cared about the league, or my family all along, I was secretly a soft guy at heart. Those feelings are there. It’s not a problem of being unfeeling with Dabi, rather that Dabi has no central sense of self to stabilize all those feelings around, thus we see him swinging wildly back and forth. I think while Dabi obviously has feelings towards both of those groups of people, a self is something he’ll have to develop over time when he finally introduces himself to the league. When he’s forced to live, past the tragic ending of his play. 

Who will Dabi be when he realizes he has to live past his imagined revenge, who can he become? I think his development from this point will be incredibly interesting to wait, watch and see. 

[hangovercurse]

Nothing

Part i of the Without You series: When Colson and Megan break up, the boys count on Y/N to piece Colson back together, which only leads to disaster.

Colson x Reader

Warnings: Colson being kind of a dick, cursing, a little bit of aggression/ violence. This one’s definitely angsty.

A/N: This was supposed to be just a one part fic. Then that turned into 2 parts. And then 3. And then all of a sudden I had written 5 parts and over 10,000 words. Enjoy 😊 (also this is v unedited so if you see a mistake... mind ya business)

Word Count: 2084

| ii | iii | iv | v | vi |

masterlist

When you got the text from Rook, you knew it was probably gonna be bad. 

Megan just left him, for good. Not gonna be pretty the next few days so maybe don’t come by anytime soon. 

Your heart broke for your best friend. Colson had been really in love with Megan. And as much as you hated seeing them together for your own personal reasons, you could tell he was really happy. 

Ok. Let me know if you guys need me. If it gets bad I can take Casie for a few days. Take care of him for me pls. 

You and Colson had been friends for years now. You knew almost everything about each other, you told him everything. He let you crash at his place after your ex kicked you out, and you had spent many hours curled up with him, watching stupid movies to distract him from his most recent breakup or mental breakdown. 

But this was different. Colson told you he wanted to marry her at some point, and you knew he wasn’t lying. And you couldn’t blame him. As much as you hated no longer being the only women (other than Casie) in his life, you couldn’t dislike Megan. She was just one of those people who everyone loved. 

The thought of texting Colson crossed your mind, but you weren’t sure if it would hurt or help. From the sound of it, he was a wreck.

So, naturally, you texted Pete. 

Have you talked to Cols yet?

With Colson came Pete, or came you, you weren’t really sure. Somewhere along the way you and Pete had become close friends. He was like the older brother you’d never asked for, and he would probably say something similar about you. 

You couldn’t really explain it, Pete could read you like a book. And because of that, he knew everything. He was the only one to catch on to the way you sometimes looked at Colson for too long, or got irritated when he’d bring a new girl around. 

I’m heading over there right now. You should talk to him.

You rolled your eyes.

Not sure that’s the best idea. You guys are better at handling... all that. Once he gets a little less angry then I’ll take him. 

Pete texted you back a few minutes later.

Thanks for the support, kid. I’ll keep you updated. Just pulled in.

Good luck, Petey.

You tossed your phone on your bed, a sigh leaving your lips. You decided worrying was a problem for another day.

No more than 12 hours later you were getting a phone call from Rook. 

“Dude it’s like 4 in the morning, why are you calling me.” 

“Y/N, we’ve tried everything. He’s locked up in his room and every time one of us tries to talk to him he blows up. Literally he almost punched Slim a few hours ago.”

You pinched the bridge of your nose, groaning at the predicament. “So now you want me to come over?” You asked, “What do you think I’m gonna be able to do?”

“Well he’s not gonna try and hit you for one. I don’t know if you’ve noticed but he’s significantly nicer to you than to anyone else.”

“What do I even say to him? “Sorry that the love of your life broke up with you but at least we can smoke pot and watch Spongebob?” I mean come on, man. I’m not good at this.”

“Please.” He pleaded, “We’re all out of options and I can’t stand to see him get any worse than he is.”

You moved off your bed and towards your dresser. “Fine, I’ll be there in 15.” 

You threw on the first pair of sweatpants you could find and slipped on shoes, grabbing your key and heading out the door.

True to your word, you pulled up to the house 15 minutes later, parking on the side of the street and heading straight into the house. When the guys saw you, they visibly brightened up. 

“You guys are such fucking wimps.” You rolled your eyes as you made your way towards the stairs. 

Baze chuckled, “We love you Y/N.”

You rolled your eyes and continued on your way, stopping by Casie’s room to see if she was asleep. To your surprise, she wasn’t. 

“Hey sweet girl,” you whispered as you entered her room, “why are you still up?”

She smiled a little when she saw you. “Couldn’t sleep. I’m really worried about Dad.” 

You leaned on her doorframe, sending her a sad smile. “I am too. But he’ll be okay. Your dad’s pretty tough.”

“I know,” she sighed, “but he really liked Megan.”

“Did you?” You ask, trying to gauge her emotions. 

“I mean, I guess so. She was nice to me. Most of his girlfriends aren’t that nice to me.” 

“That’s a pretty shitty way to measure if you like someone or not.” She giggles at that. “Don’t tell your dad I said that word in front of you.”

“Ok. She was nice. And she made him happy so, yeah, I guess I liked her. Not as much as I like you but...” Casie’s voice got higher as she dragged out the last word and you just rolled your eyes with a chuckle. 

Casie had this fantasy of you and Colson getting married one day, but you always told her it would never happen. 

“Ok kiddo, whatever you say.” You teased her, “try and get some sleep, okay?” 

She nodded with a smile. “Are you gonna go talk to Dad?”

“Yeah. I’ll talk to you later, okay? If you need to come over and talk or stay the night or anything just call me, okay?”

“Okay. Love you.” She said quietly. 

“Love you too, Case.”

You shut the door to her room, moving down the hallway to Colson’s door. You took a deep breath, trying to mentally prepare for what was about to happen, and knocked. 

“I told you guys to go the fuck away.” A muffled yet angry voice said from the opposite side of the door.

“It’s me, Cols. Y/N.” You said, hoping he could hear you. 

When you got no response you asked, “Can I come in?” 

A few more seconds of silence followed, and then the lock clicked and the door opened. You stood face-to-face with your best friend. His hair was a mess, falling in his face. The bags under his eyes were darker than ever, and the frown he wore made him look even more pathetic. You felt your heart breaking. 

As you met his eyes, you gave him a sad smile. “Hey Cols.” 

Instead of responding, he wrapped his arms around you, leaning down and resting his head on your shoulder. You reached up and ran your fingers through his hair. 

He started walking backwards, pulling you with him as he continued to hug you. One of his hands pushed the door shut and he sat on his bed, finally letting go of you. 

You looked down at him, grabbing his hand and holding it in your own. It was something you had done before, you two were very touchy people and so half of your friendship was just you two cuddling or play fighting or holding hands.

“So we can do one of three things,” you started, “We can talk about it, we can cuddle and watch something stupid and pretend nothing’s wrong, or we can get high and do something stupid.”

For the first time in what you would imagine to be all night, Colson smiled. it was a very small smile, but you took it. 

He looked up at you through his eyelashes. “And by stupid you mean...”

You rolled your eyes, “I mean we can go set off bottle rockets in the backyard or try to jump off your roof and into the pool.” 

“Oh damn. I was hoping you were gonna say you would suck my dick.” 

Your eyes widened at his bluntness and the implication. You shoved his shoulder, “Colson! That’s gross!” You giggled, but his expression was unwaveringly serious. 

“I’m being serious.” He deadpanned and you furrowed your eyebrows. 

“Colson what the fuck?” Your mind was spinning trying to figure out if he was joking. 

You got your answer when he stood up, grabbing your waist and leaning over you. “I thought you’d want to...” 

You took in a breath at the sudden proximity, trying to back away from him but his grip remaining firmly on your waist. “Colson, stop. Please. This isn’t funny.” 

You could smell the alcohol on his breath and you had to keep reminding yourself of that fact. He’s drunk, and sad, and doesn’t know what he’s saying. 

“I thought you’d want to, cause it’ll make me happy. And you’ll do anything to make me happy.” One of his hands reached up and grabbed your jaw, making sure you couldn’t look away.

“Colson you’re being a fucking weirdo, let me go.” You raised your voice. Your heart was racing at this point and the thoughts flowing around your head were not pretty. 

You were always anxious for the day he’d figure you out. When he’d finally realize how you felt for him. But this was worse than anything you’d thought of. 

“You’ll do anything to make me happy because you love me, right?” 

You felt tears stinging in your eyes, wanting nothing more but to look away from his sinister expression. The way he was looking at you made it very clear that he was enjoying your discomfort, your embarrassment. 

“Colso-” 

He walked forwards, pushing you gently against the wall. His arms went to either side of you, his face inches from yours. You tried to look away, but his hand on your jaw forced you to face him.

Any other time you would have loved for Colson to pin you against his wall, but this was wrong. 

“Just say it. Say you’re in love with me, and I’ll drop it.” 

“Colson, what the fuck are you on right now?” You tried to steer the topic away from you, but he wouldn’t have it. 

“Say it.” 

You reached up to try and push his chest away from you, but he was much taller and stronger than you, so you did nothing. 

“Just tell me!” He yelled at your silence. A tear slipped down your cheek as you trembled under him. His face was red and his eyes were watering. 

 “Why are you doing this?” You whispered. This all felt like a bad dream, like a nightmare you couldn’t wake up from. 

“Because I need to know if she was right.” His voice got a little quieter, but he still wouldn’t move away from you. “I need to know if the reason the love of my fucking life just left me is true.”

You were shaking, your breaths getting shorter. “What are you talking about.” Your words were choked. The grip on your jaw started to get a little too tight.

“I defended you!” He yelled, tears falling from his face. “She told me that you were in love with me and I defended you.”

“Colson you’re hurting me.” You whined, trying to wriggle your way out of his grasp. He ignored your statement and continued talking, but his grip loosened slightly.

“And then she told me that she thinks I’m in love with you.” His voice was getting darker. “And that’s why she left. So I want to make it very clear to you.” He paused, leaning closer to your ear. “I will never love you. Ever. Not now, not in a million lifetimes. You mean nothing to me.”

Your vision was blurry from your tears, so you blindly reached out to push him away from you. His body seemed to have given up, as he moved backwards out of your way, stumbling slightly. Through your tears you could make out a smug smile on the man before you ran out of the room, slamming the door behind you.

You ran down the stairs, the guys waiting for you to give them good news, but their hope turned to concern once they saw you. You walked straight past them towards the door, not trusting yourself to say anything without breaking completely.

As you reached for the door handle you heard a faint yell from upstairs, followed by loud banging, and then silence. You sniffled, turning the handle and leaving the house, much to the protest of your friends.

[spideyspeaches]

We always have been ↬ fem!p.p

A/N: AHHH I love genderbent Peter skjkjhjka and I’ve only seen @justme--emily​ write for her so far so I wrote one of my own 😤

Summary: It was not every day you crash into your ex boyfriend in a Stark Gala, was it? Your ex boyfriend you dumped right after your senior prom? It was probably her Parker luck striking, never a good sign, she learned that from experience. 

Warning: um cursing lol.

Pairing: female!Peter Parker x Harry Osborn

WC: 2k

When Mister Stark had asked her to attend one of those glorious charity galas, Penny had been elated, internally (and externally) jumping at the thought of wearing fancy gowns and walking past pretentious rich bureaucrats and business people.

She was practically lost in paradise when Miss Potts had accompanied her to shop for her dress, a beautiful blue and red full length gown, hugging her in her curves with a chinese collar neck and embroidered bust (very on brand of her). 

“Is your dress comfortable? Oh god I think I should have altered it myself, it’s not too tight right?” May fretted, fixing her hairdo and last minute make up she learnt from makeup hacks videos. Groaning, Penny nudged May by her shoulders, sitting her down on her twin bed, holding her aunt’s cheeks.

“May, the dress is comfortable! Miss Potts made sure that it was altered to my size okay? Now calm down, it’s just one night.” She smiled, folding her hands under her chest. Her dress was truly comfortable, and she looked undeniably good, she checked (she was a nerd, yes, but she wasn’t blind. Especially now that she had 20/20 long vision due to her spider powers.)

“You know how I feel about you going to fancy parties, baby.” May sighed, making her wince, “the last time you went to prom ended in a disaster. Both of them”

“I know May, but on the bright side, it gained me an actual paid internship. And Mister Stark and Miss Potts are going to be present the whole time!” She reassured, squeezing her aunt’s shoulders. In all honesty, she understood her anxiety, shuddering as she remembered her prom fighting Liz’s dad, and then breaking up with Harry, “besides, I have my spidery powers remember? I’m a big girl May, I can take care of myself.”

“I know you can sweetheart, god look at you all grown up, Ben would be so proud of how much you’ve grown, my little woman.” May sniffed, getting up to caress her head. She shook her head at her aunt’s emotional state, smiling as she bowed her head at the nickname. It was something Ben used to call her- little woman.

“Ben would be proud of you too May.” Penny said, willing her eyes to not water at the sudden rush of sentiment she felt at the mention of her deceased uncle.

“Now, shoo before I change my mind and keep you all to myself!” May laughed, fixing the non existent crease near her shoulders.

“Okay okay! I’m going May, jeez it’s like you and Mister Stark are holding a shared custody of me.” Penny snickered, scrambling to wear her uncomfortable heels, the ones that matched her dress.

“Maybe I am, but I get to be the primary guardian!”

Laughing, she gave her aunt a kiss to her cheek, doing a preliminary check of her cell phone and emergency bracelet, blowing her a kiss before walking into the car that was standing outside their apartment.

The car ride was silent, her stomach bubbling with nervousness and excitement. She was practically vibrating in her seat, glad that Tony had sent another driver instead of Happy- he would have teased her incessantly for being so nervous. She had grown close to Happy, the man growing fond of her as well, but he could be an embarrassing dad at times.

The gala was everything she had imagined, brightly lit in an overpriced hall, adorning overpriced decorations with people in overpriced clothes. 

“Hey Mister Stark! Thank you so much for inviting me!” She grinned, skipping towards her fath- mentor. 

“Hey Pen, wow don’t you look beautiful. A little too beautiful, beware of those good for nothing boys you hear me?” Tony smiled, hugging her, a protective hand on her shoulder. 

“Oh don’t mind Tony, hun, he’s only joking.” Pepper said, giving her a kiss on her cheek and doing a once over, just like May had. 

“I’m serious Pep, if those boys even tried anything, you call me okay? I’ll take care of them.” 

“Mister Stark, you can’t just threaten teenagers.” Penny giggled, looking at Pepper with a smirk.

“Barely a teenager kiddo, why did you grow up so fast?” He smiled, a fond look in his eyes.

“I’m nineteen Mister Stark, I think I can take care of those boys themselves.” 

“Hell yeah you can, that’s my girl.” 

Easy for her to say, because not long after that, Mister Stark and Pepper had abandoned her to talk to some prominent dealer about some… deals concerning Stark Industries, she didn't ask.

By the end of an hour, she was already bouncing on her heels, bored out of her mind. Even the Avengers could entertain her only so much, going back to their important work. And 

Penny was an awkward girl, always finding herself in situations she was unwilling to participate in, so socialising was out of question.

She remembered the one time she had accidentally spilled coffee all over Mister Stark’s touch sensitive keyboard, stuttering the whole time. He hadn’t even been mad, reassuring her that he had done that enough times before, hence the liquid resistant keypads. 

And then there was that one time the school nurse had called Tony when she was experiencing period induced fever. That was embarrassing, if not a little heartwarming to know that he cared about her enough to confront Pepper about menstrual problems. She was his daughter in everything but blood, he reminded her that every day, though not verbally.

There was also this one time she had been caught kissing MJ, but none of those were going to top what she was facing right now.

Literally.

“Penny! Penny Parker?” Harry’s chirpy voice rang in her ears, his footsteps sounding increasingly closer as she tried to hide her face behind her (non alcoholic) drink, frantically walking towards the vague figure of Mister Stark as fast as she could with her overly expensive stilettos.

It was not every day you crash into your ex boyfriend in a Stark Gala, was it? Your ex boyfriend you dumped right after your senior prom? It was probably her Parker luck striking, never a good sign, she learned that from experience. 

Finally standing near Mister Stark, she tried to stand next to him, ignoring the weird look he was giving her. Penny was petite, always has been small for her age, so she was glad Mister Stark could cover her with his side. Apparently he got her cue, as he shifted slightly to hide her from whomever’s view.

“What’s wrong Pen? Some pesky boy chasing you? Accidentally met your ex?” He joked, giving the old businessman in front of him a handshake and smirking at her with amusement. 

“Something like that.” She shrugged casually, snickering at Tony’s wide eyes. 

“Penny! Hey it’s me, Harry.” He said, nearly standing behind her. He was either incredibly stupid or incredibly brave, weaving his way through the crowd to stand right in front of her. He probably hadn’t noticed her clinging to Tony, which is why he came forward, a big goofy grin playing on his handsome face, sending her heart into a frenzy, his blue eyes shining under the gleaming lights. 

“Uh, h-hey Harry.” She grimaced, elongating his name with a chuckle. Shuffling forward, she ignored Tony’s raised eyebrows, opening her mouth to speak, but all she could look at was Harry Fucking Osborn standing in front of her, “Um, small world?” 

Her words sounded distant to her, heart heart a lump in her throat. She felt underprepared for these situations. Sure, they had broken off on a semi- good note, but it didn’t make whatever this was any less awkward. 

“Small world indeed.” He said, much softer than before, a solemn expression taking over his face, “It’s not every day you get to meet Penelope Parker in a Stark Gala. Heard of your internship by the way, I knew you were smart enough to get it.” 

“Oh, thanks about that. I guess you’re an unwilling guest here? Haven’t seen Mr. Osborn around.” She smiled shyly, shuffling on her feet.

“Yeah, kind of, I mean you know how he is.” He shrugged.

“How long have you two known each other?” Tony interrupts the two, watching in amusement as both his pseudo daughter and Norman’s son blush under his gaze, as if just noticing his presence.

“Uhm, Hi Mister Stark! B-big fan, hi oh my god Penny I’m standing in front of Tony Stark.” Harry stuttered, shaking Tony’s hand for a little too long.

Staring at him with confusion, he shook Harry's hand back, silently asking Penny the lingering question.

“He’s a bit of a fanboy.” She answered. 

Harry was still looking at Stark with his wonderstruck expression. 

“Well it’s always good to meet my fans, but you didn't answer my question, kid. How do you two know each other?” Tony said, smiling as politely as he could while his hand was still stuck in Harry’s grip. 

Realising that, he instantly let go, standing awkwardly as him and Penny said at the same time-

“I’m her ex boyfriend-”

“He’s my best friend.” 

His eyes widen, realising what he had just said.

“You guys dated? And when were you going to tell me about that Pen?” Tony asked, baffled at the thought of Penny dating a guy, and Osborn’s son of all people. 

“Well, you see, I was going to tell you soon, but then we broke up. You know? We haven’t talked since.” Penny said, the last sentence directed towards Harry. She was looking at him now, gritting her teeth.

“Well did you expect me to call you after you dumped me? During prom nonetheless? I was ashamed, Pen, I couldn’t do it.” Harry said, looking apologetic. It made her heart clench, inherent guilt building up in her tummy. It was her fault, technically. 

“Yeah but, Harry you were my best friend before my boyfriend, and I missed you okay? You could’ve at least called.” She defended. Tony was good at reading the room, so sensing a banter building, he quietly left the area, not wanting to witness the misunderstanding.

“I really missed you too Penny, I- I didn’t think I was good enough for you, gosh I really fucking love you.” He said, immediately stiffening. 

Even back when they were dating, they had never said the L word to each other, not even when they were best friends, and now? Well he had just made the air more thicker than before. 

“You- you what?” She asked, voice small as her heart jumped. She moved closer to him, holding her hands out, reaching to touch his shoulders. Her hands set on his silky tuxedo, she stroked her hands in a slow motion, dropping them immediately when she realised she was touching him.

“I really fucking love you Penny, even if you don’t want to get together, can we still be friends? Go back to our movie nights and lego sessions?” He asked, furrowing his brows as if to keep himself from crying. 

No words left her mouth, her breath hitched when he moved forward, chest stuttering. With a sudden confidence she didn’t know she had, she leapt forward, capturing his lips in hers. Their lips moved with a sync, his familiar ocean scented deo invading her nostrils, his soft skin against her. The world around her melded in a technicolour blob, the only thing she could focus was his heartbeat echoing in her ears.

“I really fucking love you too by the way.” She said, pulling away from the kiss. She vaguely spotted Miss Potts in her periphery, shaking her head with a smile as she held back Mister Stark.

“So, are we friends then?” 

“Harry?”

“Yeah?”

“We are more than friends, you dumbass. We always have been.” 

I’m a thirsty bitch, pwease give me feedback? 🥺🥺

[kanerallels]

I'd Follow You To The Great Unknown

(for Kanera Week, based on the prompt "found family/believing")

Read on AO3 here!

@kaneraweek

Word Count: 3,299

Tags/Warnings: rated T for allusions to torture and serious injury

Summary: Nothing lasts forever. Kanan and Hera are made painfully aware of that after a slipup during a mission

Kanan had known this would happen someday. It had been inevitable from the start. Even the Spectre could only avoid the Empire for so long.

And he had, since he was twenty years old. For the past eight years, he’d fought against the Empire, side by side with the Rebel cell he’d helped to form-- Sabine Wren, Ahsoka Tano, Ryder Azadi. And eventually, Ezra Bridger and Hera Syndulla. They worked well together. Kanan couldn’t imagine working without them.

But then he’d gone on a mission. Just a routine op, nothing they hadn’t done a million times before. It was a milk run-- what was the worst that could happen?

Typically enough, the Empire had seemed to take that as a challenge. The literal worst possible thing had happened-- an Inquisitor had showed up. And Kanan had known, right then and there, that there was only one possible outcome. Ahsoka hadn’t been anywhere near them, and the Inquisitor had been heading straight for Ezra.

So Kanan had dropped his katana and called on the Force, throwing Ezra as far away from the Inquisitor as possible. And as the Inquisitor had turned towards him with devious delight in his eyes, Kanan had pulled out his lightsaber and ignited it, blue light blazing to life.

They’d gotten away by some miracle. Kanan had managed to hold back the Inquisitor long enough for Hera to bring the Ghost in and pick them up. And now they were on their way back, and Kanan knew what had to happen next.

“Kanan, what are we gonna do?”

Ezra’s question snapped him out of his thoughts, and he looked at the kid, who’s eyes were wide with fear. “The Inquisitor-- he saw you. He saw your lightsaber.”

“I know, kid,” Kanan said, keeping his voice calm. And he felt calm, strangely enough. Maybe it was the total certainty he held in his heart about their next move. Putting a hand on Ezra’s shoulder, he told him, “It’s gonna be okay.”

Some of the fear faded from Ezra’s face, and he nodded. “But-- how?”

For the first time, Kanan found himself hesitating. He didn’t want to lie to Ezra about this. But he knew there was no way the boy would let him make the next move, not if he could help it. “We’ll talk when we get home,” he told Ezra. “For now, stay calm, and be ready.”

“Ready for what?”

“Whatever path is set before you.”

Frowning, Ezra started, “What does that--”

The intercom crackled, and Hera’s voice came over it. “We’re landing. Everyone off, fast.”

The crew piled off, Ezra in the lead. As Kanan headed off, Hera joined him. She caught his gaze, her eyes concerned. “Kanan--”

“We’ll talk when we get to Mace and Depa,” Kanan promised quietly. He started to move out of the ship, but Hera grabbed him by the arm.

“No,” she said flatly. “Now.”

Kriff. Kanan winced, but reluctantly stayed behind as the others filed off the ship. Once they were gone, he slowly turned to Hera, meeting her gaze.

“Kanan,” she said, her voice steady. “Tell me you’re not going to do what I think you’re going to do.”

Kanan met her gaze, feeling a stab of pain go through him. He thought about their engagement party, the moment when he’d first kissed her and knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that he loved her. “I’ll never lie to you,” he said.

“No.” Hera shook her head. “You can’t do this-- there are other ways.”

Resting his hands on her shoulders, Kanan just took her in for a moment. She was beautiful even in her anger, and incredibly strong, and he’d never stop wondering how he’d gotten so lucky. “We both know there’s not. Hera--”

“Don’t do this,” she said, her voice unsteady. “Don’t-- we need you, Kanan. I need you.”

“You’ll be fine without me,” Kanan said. “You’ve always been strong enough on your own.”

Stepping away from him, Hera shook her head. “That’s not the point, and you know it. Please, don’t--” she stopped, her voice breaking, and Kanan’s heart broke with it.

He moved forward and pulled her into his arms, and Hera went willingly, burying her face in his chest, her hands fisting in his shirt. “I can’t lose you,” she whispered, and Kanan felt her shudder.

“You won’t,” Kanan responded, stroking her back soothingly. “You’ll get me back. There’s no one else I’d trust to save me than this team. But I need you to stay strong for them, just for now.”

“It feels like I’ll break without you,” Hera choked out, a sob cracking her voice. “If you’re gone, everything’s going to fall apart.”

“It won’t. They have you, Ezra, and Ahsoka. Together, you’ll protect our family.” Kanan was silent for a moment, then said, “Please, Hera. I can’t do this if I don’t know that you’re safe.”

“Maybe I shouldn’t help, then,” Hera muttered. “To keep you safe.”

“We both know you’re not going to do that,” Kanan said. “This Rebellion has always been important to you, and you need to keep the beginnings of it safe. We both will be, just… in different places.”

Hera didn’t speak, simply clung to Kanan as she cried, and Kanan held her close, feeling tears prickle at his own eyes. But he couldn’t indulge them, not now.

Finally, Hera took a shaky breath. She pulled back, and Kanan was relieved to see determination and resolve glinting in her eyes. “I’ll keep them safe,” she told him. “And then I’m coming back for you.”

“I know,” Kanan said simply.

They made their way back into the Jedi residence, where the others were waiting. Depa was the first to see them, and her eyes narrowed as they approached. “What’s going on?” she demanded. “Ezra told us about the Inquisitor. What’s your plan?”

Kanan hesitated. This was the last news he wanted to bring them. He knew it was going to be hard on them, especially Ezra. But there was no getting away from it. “Everyone’s packing up and getting out of here,” he told them calmly. “We’re getting on the Ghost and heading for Alderaan. Hera’s ship can’t be tracked, so the Empire won’t know where you’re going. You’ll be able to slip out quickly and easily, as long as--”

“Wait, you?” Sabine broke in. “What do you mean? Aren’t you coming with us?”

Oh, Force. Kanan met Ezra’s eyes as he responded, forcing himself to maintain eye contact. “No. I’m not.”

Ezra’s eyes went wide, horror flashing through them. “No. Kanan, you can’t stay--”

“The Empire knows that it’s me they’re looking for,” Kanan said quietly. “I’m the only official Jedi here that has a blue lightsaber. Pryce will jump on this chance to get rid of one of us. If I cause enough of a ruckus when they come for me, it’ll cause the distraction you need to get out of here. And if I don’t go with you, the Empire won’t be so eager to follow.”

“I’m not leaving you,” Ezra protested, panic cracking his voice. “There’s no way I’m letting you go. Kanan, please--”

“Ezra,” Kanan cut in. “This is my choice. I need you with the others, to keep them safe.” Crossing the space between them, he rested a hand on Ezra’s shoulder. “I need you to do this for me.”

Jerking away, Ezra shook his head, angry tears glittering in his eyes. “NO. We can’t just leave you behind-- you can’t just give up!”

He started to back away, but Kanan caught hold of him, pulling him closer. Ezra started to struggle, but slumped against Kanan, weeping into his shirt. “Please don’t go. Please, Kanan.”

Taking a shaky breath, Kanan cleared his throat quickly. “I’m sorry, kid. I don’t want to leave you, trust me.”

“Then don’t,” Ezra whimpered. “You don’t have to leave us.”

Swallowing against the lump in his throat with difficulty, Kanan said, “What I have to do is keep you-- keep everyone safe.” Looking up at Mace, who stood nearby with an unreadable expression on his face, he added, “Sometimes, to protect the people you care about, you have to make sacrifices. This is one of those times.”

Mace’s expression softened slightly, and he nodded. “I’ll stay with you.”

“No,” Kanan said firmly. “You’ve suffered enough at the Empire’s hand, and I need you with everyone else. Besides, the Empire can’t get its hands on more Jedi.”

Reluctantly, Mace nodded as Ezra pulled away from Kanan. Looking at Kanan, he said, “We’re gonna get you back.”

“I expect you to,” Kanan responded, giving him a smile. “I’m proud of you, kid. Keep on fighting, and keep everyone safe for me.”

Looking at the others, he said, “I know you don’t like this. But it’s my choice, and it’s the best move to keep the Rebellion safe. So you need to go now.”

Ahsoka was the first one to move. Stepping forward, she put a hand on Kanan’s shoulder, her gaze compassionate. “May the Force be with you,” she said simply.

Kanan found himself smiling. “And with you,” he said.

Depa was next, and she gave him a soft smile. “I’m proud of you, apprentice,” she said softly. “If this is the path the Force has given you… I’ll admit, I’m hesitant to let you walk it. But I doubt this is the last time we’ll be together.”

“I agree,” Kanan said. “Keep the others safe.”

As Depa moved on, Sabine moved up to him, her expression tight. “I hate this,” she said, her voice flat.

“You’re not the only one,” Kanan admitted. “But this has to happen. Listen-- keep an eye on the others for me, okay? Look out for Ezra.”

Nodding, Sabine said, “Okay. Just-- we’re coming back for you, okay?”

“I’m counting on it,” Kanan said, giving her a grin.

His next goodbyes were to Grey, Styles and Stance, all of whom bid him good luck. Clasping Kanan’s shoulder, Grey said, “Take care of yourself, kid.”

“Take care of my master,” Kanan said, lifting an eyebrow. “And don’t call me kid.”

As Grey moved away from him to Depa’s side, Kanan faced Ezra. Squaring his shoulders, Ezra said, “I won’t say goodbye, because it’s not. We’re gonna come back for you. Just be careful, okay? Don’t make the Empire too mad.”

“Me? Never.” Kanan’s grin faded away, and he said, “I’m proud of you, Ezra.”

“Proud of you, too,” Ezra said, his voice wavering slightly. Taking a deep breath, he said, “May the Force be with you.”

Kanan felt tears in his eyes as he responded, his own voice miraculously steady. “And with you, apprentice.”

With that, Ezra headed onto the Ghost with the others, and Kanan only had two goodbyes left. Hera and Zeb were standing next to each other, and Kanan knew this was going to be hard. But he had to keep it together.

Stepping forward, he opened his mouth, but Zeb beat him to it. “I’m staying,” the Lasat said, his tone brooking no argument.

“What?” Kanan said. “Zeb, no. The only people the Empire hates more than Jedi--”

“Are aliens, especially the ones they’ve tried and failed to wipe out, yeah, I know,” Zeb said, waving a hand dismissively. “But they’ll be coming for you in force, and if you want a real distraction, you’ll need help. So I’m staying. Besides, I told Hera I’d keep an eye on you.”

“Oh, so you’re in on this?” Kanan said, lifting an eyebrow at Hera.

“Humor us, love,” Hera said, folding her arms. “This is hard enough as it is. I want someone with you to watch your back.”

Kanan sighed. “This-- you know what you’re about to walk into,” he told Zeb.

“Yep. So stop warning me about it and finish your goodbyes,” Zeb said. “I’m ready to knock together some Imperial heads.”

Somehow, Kanan felt a smile across his face, and he nodded. “Okay. Give me a minute, though.”

Zeb nodded, and moved just out of earshot, which Kanan appreciated. Turning to Hera, he just looked at her for a moment, drinking her in. “I’m going to miss you,” he said softly.

“Not as much as I’ll miss you.” Hesitating, Hera said, “What if this goes wrong? What if we can’t get back to you, or--”

“Hey.” Kanan moved closer to her, pulling her into a hug. “We’ll see each other again,” he said quietly. “I promise.”

“How can you be so sure?” Hera asked, her voice small.

“Well, there’s a certain question I haven’t actually asked you yet,” Kanan said, and felt Hera stiffen in surprise. “And there’s no way the Empire or Pryce or anyone else can keep me from getting back to you to ask it.”

Hera pulled back, gazing at his face. “I-- Kanan,” she whispered, her expression stunned.

“I won’t ask yet,” Kanan said, running a gentle thumb along her jawline. “But when you bring me home… no promises.” He paused, then added, “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” Hera said, and Kanan couldn’t resist bending down to steal one last kiss, his lips lingering on hers for only a moment.

But then he stepped back, and she was moving onto the Ghost, and then Hera Syndulla was gone. Kanan watched the ship start to rise in the air, then turned to Zeb. “Are you ready for this?”

“The real question is, is the Empire ready for this?” Zeb shot back, and Kanan couldn’t help but laugh.

He had no idea what would happen next. But he knew he’d have one of his best friends fighting with him, and the rest of his family was safe. Pulling the two pieces of his lightsaber from his belt, Kanan twisted them together. “Let’s go make a mess,” he said.

~ ~ ~

Six months later

Hera felt the Ghost humming underneath her as they made the jump to hyperspace, and she let out a sigh of relief.

It had been a long past six months. Shortly after Hera and the others had escaped from Lothal, thanks to Kanan’s sacrifice, it had been completely blockaded by the Empire, making it all but impossible to get in. They’d done anything they could to get news about Kanan and Zeb, although it had been scarce.

It had taken the Empire weeks to actually catch the two of them. They’d taken out the squad that came to arrest Kanan, and then gone on the run. But eventually, they’d been caught, and transported off of Lothal.

The last months had been long and hard, spent trying to find out where Kanan and Zeb had been taken, all the while working with the Rebellion. They’d found Zeb first-- the two of them had been separated. Zeb had been sent to a prison camp called Wobani. Once there, he’d promptly started a small rebellion with some of the prisoners, including a seventeen-year-old girl named Jyn, an ISB agent named Kallus, and a dark-haired man named Ferus Olin. Who happened to be a Jedi.

When Hera and the others had rescued Zeb and his new friends, they’d asked Ferus if he knew where Kanan might be held. The man’s face had gone dark as he said, “I can only think of one place-- Mustafar. But if your friend is on Mustafar, he’s as good as dead.”

“Not Kanan,” Ezra had told him. “He’s not going anywhere anytime soon. And if he does die, Hera and I will go to the afterlife to forcibly drag him back.”

Unfortunately, they soon discovered that Ferus’s theory had been right. Kanan had been imprisoned on Mustafar by the Inquisitors and the Emperor’s Hand.

So Hera had organized an assault on a stronghold full of Sith. And somehow, impossibly, they’d done it. They’d gotten in, and Ezra and the others had found Kanan and brought him home. And now, with the blue lights of hyperspace flickering through the front viewport, they’d escaped.

Getting up from her seat, Hera glanced at Chopper. “Keep an eye on things up here, Chop.”

Just go find him, Chopper said, and for once Hera didn’t stop to argue with her droid. Turning, she headed out of the cockpit and down towards the cargo bay, where the rescue team had entered the ship.

As she arrived on the balcony area above it, her gaze swept across those below her-- Grey and Depa, who were standing close together, holding hands. Mace, who was talking with Ferus, the scar across his eyes obvious in the light. Zeb, joking with Styles and Kallus, and nearby him Sabine and Ahsoka, standing with their arms crossed and their eyes fixed on the three men in the middle of the room.

Stance had been the team medic for a while now-- apparently he’d learned to take care of Kanan when he came back from one too many missions with injuries. Hence why he was currently arguing with Kanan as Ezra hovered near his master, clearly unwilling to let him get too far away.

“For kriff’s sake, Kanan, will you let me--”

“Not yet,” Kanan snapped, his voice vehement. “I need to talk to--”

“Kanan?” Hera said, and she wasn’t sure why her voice was so soft and shaken. Until Kanan looked up, and then she knew.

He looked terrible. Bruises darkened his skin, and blood stained his clothing here and there. It was clear he hadn’t bathed in a while, nor had he shaved-- his beard had grown considerably fuller and scruffier since she’d last seen him. His hair was long and loose-- but Hera wasn’t looking at any of that. Her gaze was fixed on the somewhat dirty bandage wrapped around his eyes.

She was down the ladder before she knew what was happening, and Kanan moved forward to meet her, his steps uncertain as Ezra gently pushed him in the right direction. His voice, on the other hand, was anything but, as he whispered, “Hera. You’re here.”

“I’m here,” Hera said, gently reaching up and touching his cheek. Kanan leaned into the touch, a half-smile twitching across his face.

“I know. The Empire could never trick me with you. I always knew when it was a fake.” He caught hold of her hand, lacing his fingers through hers, and pressed a kiss against the back. “I’d know your voice anywhere.”

Hera felt tears prickling in her eyes. Keeping her voice steady, she asked, “What happened, love?”

“The Empire likes to make people vulnerable,” Kanan said matter of factly. “So they did that in the best ways they could think of. When none of them worked, they decided to try this.” A somewhat bitter smile twitched across his face. “So I guess I was wrong when I said I’d see you again.”

“You could always see me,” Hera told him, and pulled him into a hug. Kanan wrapped his arms around her, and Hera felt him take in a quick, shuddering breath. “I’m so glad you’re home,” she whispered.

“Me, too,” Kanan said, his voice shaking slightly.

He sounded fragile, off center, hurt, and Hera’s heart ached for him. For what he’d gone through. “I’m sorry we didn’t get to you sooner, love,” she murmured.

Moving hesitantly, Kanan lifted a hand to her face, and bent to press a kiss against her forehead. “It’s okay. I knew you would come, and you did. And I’m back with you again. That’s the important thing.”

Hera knew that wasn’t all, and she knew Kanan was still hurting, from both physical and mental wounds. But that could wait until another day. For now, what he needed was to rest and heal, with his family around him.

“Welcome home, Kanan,” she said.

A soft smile curled Kanan’s mouth. “Glad to be here, Captain Hera.”

[hwangsbbg]

First - Hyunjin

3.9k word,

In which reader is worried about her first time with Hyunjin but it ends up being everything she’s dreamed of. 

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

"I really don't know what to do" You groaned, your head resting in your best friend's lap as you told him of your problems.

Hyunjin was going to be quite busy for the rest of the week with the rest of stray z with this project he couldn't tell me about.

The last time I had seen him was yesterday which explains why I was here ranting to Eric about my "relationship issues".

"It's not like I don't want to but every time we go a little far I start freaking out and I back out." I explain as the older boy runs a hand through his blonde hair.

Eric and the rest of the boyz were on break for around a month so I was over at their dorms whenever I could and spending time with my best friends.

I had to go back to the US in a month however to start my tour. I was on vacation for a good three months and decided to come spend it with my boyfriend and friends.

"You've been dating for like a year. I'm sure he really loves you and he won't force you to do anything you don't want to" Eric explains making me groan in frustration again.

"A year and four months. It's not that I don't want to, I just.. I feel like I'm gonna disappoint him or it won't be how either of us imagined" I let out.

"Listen dude. If you're feeling insecure or something let me remind you of the thousands of fanboys you have as well as the idols and celebrities who've tried hitting on you. You're gorgeous. Hyunjin knows that and I'm sure you wouldn't disappoint him. But if you're still scared, that's fine. You don't have to rush anything." Eric smiles a little towards the end of his small rant making me sit up and give him the tightest hug possible.

"You are the bestest friend I could ever ask for" I said before the door opened revealing Kevin.

"Kevinnn" I ran up to him and hugged him, his arms wrapping around me, returning the hug before letting go.

"Hey! What're you doing here? You said you were coming tomorrow" Kevin spoke.

"I needed advice" I pouted walking back towards Eric and laying down where I previously was.

"About what? Maybe I can help" Kevin sat down on the seat next to me and before I could even speak up, Eric began speaking.

"She's scared to have sex with Hyunjin" He spoke bluntly, my eyes widening at his unfiltered words.

"Well I wouldn't call it scared" I defended myself not really knowing why as Kevin gave me the dad look.

"You know, you shouldn't rush yourself. Your body knows when it's ready or not. You don't have to do it for him. When you're both ready it'll happen" Kevin explained, a soft expression adorning his face.

"But it's not like I don't want to. I do, it's just I get super nervous before anything happens" I explain exactly what I did with Eric before Kevin spoke up again.

"Don't even worry about this. Just live like it doesn't even matter and one day you'll feel if it's right and it'll happen okay" Kevin told me, giving me a tight hug.

"I literally love you guys. I needed this" I smiled as Kevin spoke up announcing he had to shower before leaving Eric and I alone.

"I'm heading back to my house in like two hours" I told Eric as he turned on the videogame console and handed me a controller.

"Two hours is enough to beat at least a hundred times" I laughed, picking my avatar for the race.

---------- three days later ---------

I opened the door to my house, walking in with Hyunjin following after me. He turned around and locked the door before we made our way up to the stairs.

Yes, I had bought a house in Seoul. I had the money and frankly it was much easier to stay at my own house then pay for a hotel every time I visited, which was alot.

Hyunjin was finally done with his secret project with the rest of Stray kids and came over to spend some well needed time with me.

I followed him to my room, giggling as he almost tripped over a staircase. I stayed the door, watching him in amusement as he opened the door and ran straight for the bed, plopping down onto it.

He rested his back against the dashboard and grinned at me, tapping on his lap making me laugh as I understood what he was implying.

I closed the door behind me, hurrying over to my boyfriend and sitting down on his lap, chest to chest, face to face with my feet on both sides of his legs.

He smiled, wrapping his arms around me before speaking up.

"It's only been three days but I missed you. What am I gonna do when you leave for tour again" He pouted, as I rested my forehead against his.

"We have a whole month and a half left, and when I leave I'll call you everyday. And remember we'll see each other in Berlin" I gave him a small peck, smiling widely at him as I pulled away, our noses still touching.

"If only we could stay like this forever" He sighed, his fingers rubbing circles on my waist.

I simply hummed in response, using my fingers to brush a loose strand of his golden colored hair back in place.

"You know you're really pretty" I blurted out, not really knowing why those were the words that decided to make their way out of my mouth.

"Thanks baby, you too" He chuckled, placing his lips on mine again.

I smiled into the kiss as he lifted his head up a little from the headboard allowing me to place my fingers in his hair and pull him closer.

"Your kisses are intoxicating" He pulled away.

I smiled for the hundredth time, reconnecting our lips as his hands held onto my waist keeping me steady.

I felt him nibble lightly on my bottom lip asking for entrance which of course I granted to him.

I felt his tongue brush against mine before mine responded and both of us began moving in sync.

We were actually quite often like this. Alone, in our own little world, appreciating each other's company.

I pulled away, leaving a kiss on his lips, cheeks and forehead, cupping his cheeks with both hands and smiling widely.

"I love you so much it hurts" I told him.

"I love you more baby. So much. I'm gonna marry you someday" He answered.

I couldn't even explain the amount of love I had for this man as I reconnected our lips, this kiss needier than the previous ones as I wasted no time in latching our tongues together and letting him create a steady pattern with his.

His finger trailed under my shirt, leaving a cold and tingling sensation on my waist as he continued whatever it was he was doing with his tongue.

He detached his lips from mine before quickly reattaching them on my ear, nibbling lightly on the lower part before moving down along my neck.

I let out a few ragged breaths as he began kissing and sucking lightly on my neck, his hands going up to my bra.

I let out a small whimper as he began sucking on a certain spot causing him to chuckle in satisfaction as he continued sucking on that same spot, applying a bit more pressure.

Meanwhile his hands palmed by breasts, covered by my bra. He squeezed on them making me involuntarily arch my back causing my hips to twitch forward.

A groan emitted from his lips as he began sucking on the exposed part of my collarbone, the only part my skin would allow him to.

"Let me just" he pulled away, hooking his fingers to my shirt before pulling it off.

"Gosh, you're beautiful. So beautiful baby" he latched his lips back onto my collarbone, more of it exposed with me now being topless.

He squeezed on my breasts again, rubbing on them as I let out a few barely audible moans mixed with whines.

He pulled away, pulling his shirt off in a swift motion as I indiscreetly stared at his body. His gorgeous muscles, his six pack abs, his tan skin, his chest, everything about him was absolutely magical, breathtaking.

"You're so fucking hot" I could feel my face heating up as he moved a strand of hair behind my ear, grinning, before cupping my face and pulling me into another kiss, this one sloppy as we were both simply desperate to feel more of each other.

He moved his hands back onto my hips, holding onto them as he guided them, moving them back and forth. I could feel my ass rutting against his growing erection and despite the layers of clothing I could feel the sensation on my core making me more and more wet by the minute.

He clearly wanted me to feel him as he let out a small groan, moving in the same rhythm as he moved my waist.

I pressed a few kisses on his neck before moving to his collarbone and sucking. I couldn't mark his neck or he would get in trouble but I freely let myself suck all over his beautiful collarbones, red marks decorating his skin as my hands roamed over his toned stomach.

"Ok baby.. um.. you're going kinda far now" he moaned, holding on to my face and pulling me away to look at him.

We had never gone this far, as I'd usually panic and he'd tell me it was okay and go take care of himself but after talking with Eric and Kevin I was convinced I could go through with it.

"Sorry" I apologized. If my skin weren't so dark, I'd be as red as a tomato.

"You don't need to apologize, I just don't want you to go further than you're ready to you know. I'm fine with what we do until you're ready" He whispered.

"I think I'm ready" I nodded at him. I was absolutely in love with him and I needed him right now.

"Are you sure baby" He asked, grabbing onto my hands and kissing both of them.

"I'm positive" I reassured him. He grinned. He was as virgin as I was and tried not to show how nervous he was when he trailed his finger upwards to the hook of my bra and unhooked it.

He easily pulled my bra off and stared at my exposed breasts, his breath hitching before he slowly moved his hands up and cupped them.

"Fuck baby" He groaned, moving his lips to them and kissing one, sucking on several spots leaving dark purple marks before taking a nipple in his mouth, swirling his tongue around it, sucking it and letting it go with a popping sound before moving to the other.

I let out a moan, gripping onto his hair as he sucked harder on this nipple, his teeth slightly grazing on them making me hiss in pleasure.

He let go and the cold air immediately hit them making me shiver.

He chuckled at my reaction, picking me up and flipping us over so he was hovering over me.

"I love you so much beautiful" he pecked my forehead then my lips as he intensely watched my fingers undo his belt, then his jeans buttons before he helped me remove his jeans completely.

The bulge in his pants looked much bigger as the only thing covering it was now his boxers.

The nervous feeling kicked in again but it wasn't enough to overtake the absolute neediness I felt for my boyfriend at this moment.

I slowly moved my hand to palm his erection earning the loudest groan I've heard from him all day.

I began rubbing my hands up and down his boxer hidden length while he hooked his fingers on my jean shorts and breathed a "fuck" before pulling them down along with my underwear.

"Fuck. Fucking hell. Baby" he dragged the last word, staring at my body, completely naked and only for his eyes.

He moved his hand along my thigh, trailing it upward and stopping just before my core.

I looked up at him, desperately wanting him to touch me as he reattached our lips.

"You're so fucking hot" Hyunjin let out, finally touching me where I wanted by tracing a finger on my slit.

"Look at you already so wet for me" He tugged on my bottom lip, easily slipping a finger in my heat causing me to groan.

"Hmm you like that babygirl?" he curled his finger slowly moving it in and out before adding another one.

"You're so wet for me baby, look at how easily my fingers fit" he spoke, barely audible as he continued thrusting in and out of me with his fingers, his thumbs going my clit and rubbing on it.

The scenario was giving me more pleasure than the actions itself. Hyunjin, almost fully naked, his lips on mine and his fingers fucking me. Hell it was straight out of one of those wet dreams I had.

I arched my back to give him more access as he continued what he was doing, his hand going back up to grab one breast and massage it.

"Please, I want you, so badly" I finally let out.

"Fuck babygirl if you keep speaking like that I'm not gonna last long" He groaned removing his fingers making me wince at the loss of contact.

He was now on his knees between my legs as he began removing his boxers revealing his very erect length.

My eyes widened at it, wondering how the hell it was supposed to fit. He seemed to have noticed my worrying because he quickly spoke up.

"Don't worry baby, it'll fit. Trust me" He said making me nod as he threw the boxers aside.

He lowered himself so that his face was inches away from my heat as I stared at him in confusion.

He began kissing my legs all the way up to my thighs where I was certain he left a hickey or two before his face was directly in front of my core, his hot breath sending shivers to my core.

"I've always wanted to taste you" he said, attaching his mouth to my clit. I let out the loudest squeal ever, feeling an insane amount of pleasure all at once.

He began circling his tongue around my clit and sucking on it making me a wriggling mess.

"Mm stop moving" he mumbled against me as he used a hand to push me down. My hands unconsciously went to the back of his head, pulling him closer as he made out with my clit.

"Please. Fuck please. Don't stop" I let out whatever word I could think of as I tried pushing his face against me even more as if to get more pressure.

He smirked, licking a long stripe on my heat before sticking his tongue where his fingers once were. The warm feeling of his tongue inside of me, exploring my inner walls, thrusting in and out of me was driving me crazy to the point where I couldn't think straight.

"I want you. Please. So badly" I told him. I wasn't one to beg but when I had my very sexy boyfriend naked in front of me, between my legs, begging was the least of my worries.

"Of course babygirl" He pulled away, grinning at me, his lips swollen and red and his face flushed with strands of his hair sticking to his forehead.

"Isn't this is your first time too" I asked him and it seemed to make his confidence falter for a while as he blushed and muttered a small "yeah".

"Let me take care of you too then" I spoke up, instructing him to sit against the dashboard of the bed again.

"You don't have to do this babe" "No I want to" I said positioning myself between his legs.

"I really have no idea what I'm doing" I told him, feeling slightly embarrassed.

"Just whatever feels right" He hissed when I grabbed hold of his member. I began stroking it, wrapping my hand fully around it and moving my hands up and down.

"Fuck.. yes like that baby" he moaned as I rubbed by finger on the tip of his cock, dragging it on the pink slit.

I out some spit on his length and rubbed it all around allowing me to move my hands faster.

"Fuckkk. Yes baby like that" He looked completely fucked out and absolutely breathtaking with his pupils dilated, his mouth slightly ajar and his eyes staring at me and what I was doing.

I finally took the tip in my mouth, continue my movement with my hands as I licked around the tip before hollowing my mouth and sucking on it.

I continue sucking, going deeper each time until I reached my limit. I made sure to not let my teeth get involved as I bobbed my head up and down his shaft.

"Ah I- I think I'm gonna come" he let out. I continued my actions, bobbing my head faster. Despite trying to control himself he began thrusting into my mouth, his cock twitching.

With a final thrust he released with a loud moan, eyes closed as he regained his breath. He opened his eyes to see me swallow the load he had just shot into my mouth.

"Fuck that's so hot" he ran a hand through his hair.

"You're so hot. You drive me completely crazy" He spoke in between breaths making me giggle.

"Can you keep going? Cuz I really need you right now" I rested my hands on his thighs and stared at him awaiting an answer.

"Fuck you really thought we were going to end things there?" He shook his head, making me smile as I laid on my back with him between my legs.

"Do you have a condom" He asked me, realizing he hadn't brought one.

"I'm on birth control" I answered simply, making him grin.

I had started taking the pills to control my period and the pain.

"Damn I just came and I'm already so hard again" He let out, rubbing the tip of his lenghth along my slit making both of us moan at the feeling.

He slowly inserted the tip making me hiss at the foreign feeling. Two fingers were nothing compared to his member.

"You okay babygirl" He asked. I nodded, giving him the pass to continue as he moved deeper inside until he was fully in and you couldn't see any of his member anymore.

"Fuck you're so tight. And warm. It feels so fucking good." He groaned, falling as if he were on cloud 9.

After the slight burning subsided I gave him the signal to start moving and so he did. He slowly moved out until only the tip remained inside of me before thrusting back in.

"Fuckkk Hyunjin" I moaned surprising myself and how loud and high pitched it was. But the sensation he had brought now was one I had never felt before.

"Say my name again babygirl" he repeated his actions as I moaned his name once more, fueling his ego.

"Fuck you're so tight but you take me so well. Don't you babygirl" he began gaining speed.

"Mmm only you Hyunjin" I replied, shutting my eyes closed and enjoying the feeling.

Hyunjin lifted one of my legs onto his shoulder and began thrusting even deeper than I had imagined was possible.

"FUCK- FUCK RIGHT THERE " I cried out as he hit a specific spot that sent a tingling feeling through my entire body.

He watched as my boobs bounced with every thrust, the scene making his release approach faster and faster.

Hyunjin bent down and began kissing me, messily as he continued thrusting, deeper and harder, always hitting the spot that had me going crazy.

"Fuck you're so hot Hyunjin. Fuck- fuck you're gonna make me come. You make me feel so fucking good" I cried as he moved to attack my jawline with kisses.

I could feel his cock twitching inside me and I could tell I was also close to releasing.

"So beautiful. All mine. Mmm you're all mine" he grabbed hold of both my hands, entangling them with his own as his thrusts began slowing down but he kept thrusting with the same intensity.

I felt my walls clenching around him more and more with each thrust.

"F-fuck Jin I'm gonna cum" I squeezed his hands tight as I reached my orgasm, my walls clenching around his cock as he came one again, inside of me.

"I love you so fucking much" He whispered, kissing my forehead before rolling over next to me.

"I love you too babe" I whispered, still trying to catch my breath.

"We need to clean ourselves" Hyunjin said making me nod.

"Wait here" He stood up towards the bathroom as I waited and after a few minutes he came back.

He picked me up bridal style making me giggle before taking me to the bathroom.

I smiled at him as I saw the bathtub ready. He put me down and I almost fell down, gripping onto his shoulder.

"Whoa baby, don't worry I got you" he said, holding me steady and helping me inside the tub.

"I'll be right back" he disappeared into the room for a few minutes before reappearing.

"I'm here" he climbed in the tub besides me, pulling me against him so that my back was against his chest.

He lovingly wrapped an arm around me while using the other to rub soothing circles on my thighs.

After a few kisses, a bunch of “I love you”s and actually washing ourselves clean, we went back to the bedroom where he had put on new sheets.

I smiled at him as he handed me a pair of underwear and his shirt to wear while grabbing a pair of sweatpants himself.

Yes, this was my house but it was full of his stuff as he often came over and even slept over.

"I'm glad this happened. I'm glad my first time was with you. With someone I love. It was absolutely amazing." Hyunjin told me, pulling me into his chest before we both fell asleep.

--------------- two days later -------------

"So you actually did it" Kevin asked in surprise and I nodded. Again if it weren't for the color of my skin I'd be as red as a tomato.

"Well, how was it" Eric asked right as Juyeon walked in the room.

"How was what" He asked sitting down beside us.

"She lost her virginity two days ago to Hyunjin" Eric told him, revealing my personal life as if it were nothing once again.

"Oh, congrats?" Juyeon laughed, giving me a small hug before speaking up again.

"Remember my offer still stands. If he ever hurts you I can kick his ass" Juyeon spoke making everyone in the room laugh.

"But really though, how was it" Eric spoke once again, not forgetting his original question.

"Um.. magical" I replied. It was simply magical. Better than I could've ever dreamed of.

[silvanable]

OMG I'M SO HAPPY I SEE U AGAIN ON MY FEED AND NOW YOU ALSO TAKE REQUESTS FOR TWST💞💗💕💓❤️❣️🧡💙💚💗💕💕💞💘💝Uhmm... i need to calm down🥺. Can i ask for a hc for Leona, Jamil and Ruggie with a gn s/o who is basically the twst version of mulan? Sorry if i ask for too much🥺 Love you and take care of yourself❤️

bless you, you wonderful doll! please don’t calm down. i found twst right before halloween and by the following morning it had consumed what remained of my soul.

i’m so glad you’re coming with requests and i absolutely adore this idea. mulan was one of my favorite disney ‘princesses’ as a kid because she was absolutely badass.

i’m literally taking this as is, so the boys’ s/o is mulan 2.0 with a twist wink wonk.

and a bonus at the very end for all you lovelies about twst mulan!

↪  GUIDELINES

— JAMIL VIPER

jamil never honestly paid them much mind in the beginning, mostly because he was babysitting watching over kalim.

he probably started to notice them more when they started participating in club sports and the magishift tournaments.

the reason they start interacting because one of their lizards, their asian water monitor to be exact, ended up getting out and saving jamil from a beetle.

queue them running up, heaving a massive lizard in their arms, and apologize for starting jamil mistaking his yell of fear for the beetle for their fear of their scaly baby.

the two strike up a conversation and sort of hit it off after that point, more or less because they constantly come up to him when they see him and start talking afterwards.

jamil has the underlying inferiority after constantly having to put himself below kalim, therefore doesn’t do well with those who look down on him or challenge his worth.

with his s/o, they understand that feeling because everything they have done in life was to fight and prove themselves of being someone worthy.

knowing about each other’s pasts and how each of them has to fight to be even glanced at as someone worrying is part of what brings them together.

the both of them have a lot of untapped or unrecognized potential but it would get better.

the two of them compliment each other in many ways and tend to be the leverage the other can use to bring out the best of themselves.

jamil is the type to actually train with his s/o, while he might not be trained in the same swordsmanship art as them, it’s an enjoyable moment for him because it’s just him and his s/o.

most time it happens he just stumbles upon his s/o practicing and joins in, as much as he loves watching it feels far more intimate to participate in their training because it’s almost like a dance between opponents.

jamil braids his own hair with magic and having a s/o who also has long hair, he would offer to do their hair for them rather happily, be it with or without magic, but he does enjoy running his fingers through their dark hair.

if his s/o asks him if they can braid his hair, he might just pass on to the next life right then and there. catch his s/o decorating his hair with unique trinkets from their home too.

jamil has grown up at the constant service of other people, so his s/o offering to do something for him is not only surprising but extremely heartwarming.

and sharing similar backgrounds he and his s/o would do small services for each other as a sort of show of their affection for one another.

as a person who keeps lots of reptiles, they introduce all of their scaly babies to jamil rather early on, if only to say they have a special fondness for even their beloved viper.

— LEONA KINGSCHOLAR

of course he found them annoying at first but it’s also not every day someone dares to square up with him. he’s used to submission and compliance from others out of fear.

he finds them overly annoying but they always seemed to run into each other until one day they actually got to talking.

turns out they were quite dedicated to their family.

leona has never had a great relationship with his family, so he doesn’t quite understand how someone could be so devoted to their family to put themselves in harm’s way for them.

is not always the most respectful of his dearest s/o but when he steps too far out of line you can bet they’re setting him straight again.

leona is extremely impressed with his s/o skills, particularly their swordsmanship.

these two are literally yin and yang when it comes down to it, opposites but they perfectly balance each other out to keep each other in check.

he likes to watch them practice on the ground after classes when he’s lounging and napping. they always have such an adorably serious expression and appear almost as if they’re dancing.

absolutely will drag his s/o from their practice to nap with him in the gardens.

other times he just plops in their lap while they’re reading or studying.

is actually very impressed, if not a little jealous, of their defensive magically abilities.

leona’s specialty is ancient curses. his s/o specialty is defensive magic, particularly against curses.

not that he would ever throw a curse at them but his s/o has already proven to break more than a few of his little testers for them.

learns about their background somewhere down the line of being together.

his s/o was very reluctant to talk about it given that he was a prince, so trying to explain the work and hardships they had to endure to support and protect their family, particularly their father, seemed like a bad conversation.

leona is actually very attentive when they finally open up and it makes more sense to him the more he hears.

he understands to a degree, but again he never had to struggle with wealth or safety, nor did he have the same dedication to his family due to childhood complications. 

— RUGGIE BUCCHI

found them interesting right off the bat. they were peculiar in ways he couldn’t quite place.

really started to like them when they told leona off one time. ruggie expected them to back down from the savanaclaw dorm leader when he started growling but they did not.

much like leona and his s/o— these two are a balance of each other, yin and yang, and his s/o often likes to remark.

his laid back and carefree nature does clash with their dedicated nature though. it’s a problem sometimes, especially when it comes to why his s/o works so hard.

it’s times like those that ruggie finds he doesn’t know a lot about his s/o, particularly their past. which he understands, as he’s sensitive about his own too, but still his s/o is a mystery to him.

it does take a lot for his s/o to open up about what they’re so focused and determined to become a great mage. and it turns out it’s all for their family, particularly their father.

that brings a new side of them to light for ruggie, brings him to admire them that much more because all their goals were never really for them.

genuinely sees a lot of similarity between him and his s/o’s pasts, sure they’re different but both of them had to learn and adapt to survive—whether it be for themselves or for those around them.

loves his s/o unique magic, being quite a prankster himself, ruggie has thought of 101 uses for his s/o magic that does not involve its usual purpose like roasting marshmallows.

however he does not like being in it’s path as he has been singed by it before ( of no fault of his s/o since they did warning him ).

in awe at his s/o swordsmanship and talent at defensive magic but doesn’t admit it.

he likes to watch but tries to be sneaky about it. getting caught causes his cheeks to tint pink and he will absolutely brush any and everything his s/o says about him staring off.

his s/o culture is vastly different from the one he knows from the afterglow savanna. so he’s curious.

will absolutely ask his s/o to prepare him tea or cook a dish from their home, whether or not they are a decent cook he will eat whatever the offer.

— HEADCANONS ABOUT THIS TWST!MULAN

dresses rather ambiguously leaning masculine but can absolutely slay a skirt and heals.

everyone at night raven college actually thought they were a guy for the longest time until a conversation struck up and they mentioned they were actually nonbinary.

everyone swears their unique magic is shapeshifting because they change their presentation, style, and outfits so beautifully but literally everyone never knows what they’ll look like next.

luxurious, soft hair that’s darker than a starless night. often tied up to keep it out of their face.

red is their signature color.

their father is very frail and was deemed medically unfit to preform his job, so his dear child took his place to support their family.

the only reason they’re even a nrc is because their family persuaded them to go & eventually they agreed if just to have a way to support their family and make them proud.

from an ancient line of warriors in the war against dark magic, users were renowned for their skill with a blade and their magic against curses.

best class is obviously defense magic, more grounded in combat against curses, but no one has beat them on the defense yet anyways.

also exceptionally skilled with a sword. practices daily before or after classes to keep those skills sharp.

floyd calls them “sea dragon” ( shīdoragon-chan ) after the leafy sea dragon.

reptiles freaking love them. is constantly being stalked by some scaly friends. and yes, they absolutely do talk to them all.

on that note they also have so many reptiles in their room. whoever their poor dorm leader is, better pray for them, because it’s not uncommon for a scaly friend to get out of their enclosures and wander around looking for their master.

is a member of the horse riding club.

unique magic would be called dragon’s guidance and it’s incantation is: “ancestors hear my plea, bring honor to my family and watch over me. dragon’s guidance.” 

the magic brings to life a chinese dragon made from the sparks of fireworks from their hands. ( if you’ve ever seen the fellowship of the rings, imagine the firework dragon merry and pippin set off. or a similar firework dragon george & fred weasley from harry potter set off in the fifth movie ).

it acts as a sort of ‘guide’ towards their goal ( for example, finding the way out of the woods if they are lost ).

however their unique magic also has other purposes, as it can act like a signal flair, works well for parting thick crowds ( no one wants to get burned after all ), or a light source briefly before the sparks fizzle out.

[ourloveisforthelovely]

Angel (one shot)

Harry Potter Marauders Era 

Request  helloooo can i ask for like a quick regulus x reader oneshot where the reader sings and regulus hears her voice and basically falls in love with it but he didnt see her face so he just comes back everyday to the same place in the hope of listening to her singing and seeing her face this time? this sounds specific i know but i feel like some soft reggie is all i need now 😭

Pairings: Regulus Black x Reader 

Rating: M- mention of self harm 

________

Suffocating… that was the best word that Regulus could use to describe his life. After joining up with the death eaters at the lovely age of 16, Regulus had quickly grown to regret his decision. Anytime that the dark mark began to burn in the slightest, Regulus found himself dying for an excuse not to go. There was, however, not one...at least nothing in Lord Voldemort’s eyes that would be “good enough.” 

On the outside, Regulus had to keep his smooth and reserved demeanor. It didn’t matter on the inside how much he was screaming. No one cared. The people that did know what he was doing continued to go on and on about how he was doing “the right thing, the noble thing.” 

It was 7:00pm and Regulus found himself running down a quiet hallway. He had to get out of the Slytherin common room. He had to get away from Evan Rosier and Barty Crouch Jr. They had been so gleeful over a muggle that had been murdered the night before. Neither seemed to care about this person nor the family that they left behind. Regulus, when the deed was taking place, didn’t care. He stood stony faced as the man begged for his life. The moment Voldemort uttered his “favorite” spell, Regulus had to swallow back the feeling of nausea as he watched the light leave the man’s eyes. 

Regulus had done well not thinking about the “deed” all day. It wasn’t until he returned to the common room and overheard Evan’s conversation did Regulus find himself regretting the day that he was born. 

No one asked a question when Regulus walked out of the common room. Why would they? People would be dumb to question Regulus on something. People knew not to question Regulus on his doing unless they wanted to be jumped. 

Regulus stopped the moment that his hands hit the balcony. Breathing heavily, he closed his eyes mentally begging for the memory to leave his mind. 

Just stop...I fucking hate this! 

Regulus thought miserably. He was half tempted to throw himself off of the balcony. It looked like a good distance and if he was lucky wouldn’t survive the fall. Death would be better than living the way that he was at the moment! 

The brooding stopped the moment that a soft voice caught Regulus’ attention. He knew a lot of the “choir kids” would come up to this particular area of the castle to practice at points. Before today, however, Regulus had never paid any of them any attention. Today, it was different. This voice was soft, gentle...everything that Regulus needed. 

Right away he recognized the French folk song that he had heard numerous times as a child. Leaning his head back against the stone wall, all of the anxiety and tension slowly left. Regulus took a deep breath and looked down at his hands. They were no longer shaking. 

I should leave...but I don’t want to. She, whomever she is, has to have the most beautiful voice. She sounds like an angel.

Regulus thought with a tiny smile. Although he had no belief in heaven, hell, angels, or demons hearing this voice had to be what an angel would sound like if there were one. This soft voice was everything that Regulus needed to hear when he needed to be told “that everything would be alright.”  

Over the following days, Regulus found himself in the same place at the same time. It didn’t matter what kind of hell that he had going on. The moment that soft voice would sing all of the bad would vanish. Even if it was just one song, Regulus was feeling a million times better when he had to return to the Slytherin common room. 

The question plaguing Regulus’ mind now was who did the voice belong to? He had been trying to put an angelic voice with a face nonstop and was coming up with nothing. None of the girls in Slytherin house fit the idea that Regulus had in his mind. 

I have to find out.

He muttered as the signing stopped. Standing up, he quickly walked into the room not having any idea what he was about to say. Regulus knew that whatever girl this was would probably think that he was a creep for spying on her night after night. What kind of girl would want that? 

“I know you’re there.” 

The singing had stopped and was replaced with a soft comment on Regulus’ appearance. Regulus turned around to see Y/n Lupin sitting by the window. You were the girl...the voice...it all fit! Regulus blinked a few times as he took everything in. Of course, it was you. It all made sense. 

“Um...hi.”

Regulus muttered. He wasn’t for sure if he had ever spoken to you before. The two of you were in the same year but your paths didn’t cross much. You were in Hufflepuff and often kept to your little group of friends or with your older brother. 

You, meanwhile, smiled noticing Regulus’ awkward silence. 

“You’ve been up here the past few nights.” 

You commented. Regulus’ face blushed as you patted the seat beside you. Regulus slowly sat down and kept his eyes straight ahead.

He had to be a blithering idiot. There would be no way in hell that anything between the two of you would ever work. You were Remus Lupin’s sister. Regulus didn’t foresee Remus being too onboard with his sister dating a Slytherin (even if Slytherins and Hufflepuffs made great matches). 

“You were upset that first night. Are you better now?”

You asked. You knew the question was probably intrusive but it came out before you really thought better of it. That night, a few nights ago, you had been up doing what relaxed you the most...singing. When you heard the angry footsteps you considered stopping but thought about how your singing seemed to comfort your own brother when he was upset. Maybe this person needed a little comforting too (even if you didn’t know them). 

When you realized that it was Regulus Black the feeling of overwhelming sympathy washed over you. You didn’t know much about Regulus other than the fact that he was Sirius’ younger brother. Over the years that you were in school, you couldn’t help but notice how sad Regulus looked most of the time. You could see those sad dark eyes from your seat at the Hufflepuff table and wanted nothing more than to give him something to smile about. He reminded you of a puppy that had been kicked one too many times. If he was anything like Sirius then you knew that was exactly how Regulus was.

 It was no secret that Walburga Black was cruel to her children. You knew first hand of the abuse. You had heard about it from Sirius himself. If that was what was plaguing Regulus’ mind every night that he came to the balcony, maybe you could give him something to feel better about?

“There really isn’t getting any better.” 

Regulus commented as you scooted closer. You had a feelin what that vague comment was leading toward.

“About being a death eater?”

Regulus’ face went pale as he turned to look at you with wide eyes. 

“How do you know? Did my brother tell you?”

You shook your head at the raised tone of his voice. 

“Ssh now. We don’t need god and everyone to hear. I saw your arm doing potions one day.”

Regulus sneered in your direction. He didn’t know how to react. Maybe just be cold like normal? What the hell was he supposed to say?

“Let me guess, you are going to tell me that I am a horrible person and that I shouldn’t be doing what I’m doing...no matter if it's what my family expected of me.”

Your momentary silence was driving Regulus nutty. After a few moments, you finally spoke. 

“No. I was actually going to say I can’t imagine what you are going through. Sometimes our families are our own worst enemies.” 

Regulus sighed.

“You’ve got that right. Look, I wasn’t spying on you. I want to just throw that out there.” 

You smiled. 

“It's alright. Your aura doesn’t seem as tense after you’re here for a bit.” 

It was Regulus’ turn to be silent. He was trying to decide if he wanted to give you a compliment. If he messed things up, there was a good chance that he would never hear your angelic voice again...and that wasn’t something that he wanted to risk losing. 

“Your voice is nice….its soothing.” 

“Thank you.”

You replied as Regulus turned back to face you. His face this time was different. He had gone from death eater to the sad puppy that needed love. 

“That first night...I was actually considering pitching myself off of that balcony. Hearing you...that was the first time I heard the most beautiful voice. It was like gravity.” 

You reached out and gently took your hand in his. Were you overstepping your boundaries with a boy that you knew nothing about and who in turn knew nothing about you? Possibly. Did you care? Not really. 

“I’m glad that you didn’t do that. You know, believe it or not, I realize how hard things can be with family. My family isn't normal…”

“Your brother is a werewolf.”

Regulus commented and instantly regretted his choice of words when your face went pale. 

“Not that it matters though. It's just who Remus is.” 

Regulus quickly added, hoping to save what hope of a friendship that he had with you. You, to his relief, smiled. 

“Yes, it is who he is. I feel no guilt in telling you this now. With his condition, I tend to be second in the family. My parents don’t mean to put me on the back burner but it happens. It's hard...so I know now you must feel. How did you figure it out, if you don’t mind me asking. He literally tells no one.” 

Regulus shrugged. 

“Just put the puzzle pieces together.” 

You continued to rub slow circles over Regulus’ palm hoping to relax him further. This was the first time (other than James and Sirius) someone had figured out Remus “furry little problem.” 

“You’re really intelligent and perceptive then. If you want...you know...we could do this every evening when you're free. We don’t have to tell anyone that we are meeting up. Sometimes it's nice just to have someone outside of your friend circles.” 

Regulus looked up and was clearly surprised. 

“You would want to see me again?”

You nodded. 

“If you want to see me that is...no pressure.” 

Regulus quickly nodded, cutting you off. 

“I would love to see you again...maybe around 7 tomorrow?”

You gave his hand a squeeze. 

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world.” 

_________

@amelie-black @realgaytrash @truly-insatiable @fandomsxxregulus @lucasfilms77 @exhsle @spiderxalmighty @jessyballet @knreidy1 @bennyberry @quuenofblacks @hazncalsgal @criminalyetminimal @whymyparentscheckmyphone @acciosiriusblack @brokencasbutt67-writer @authoressskr @fandom-trash-worth-it @summer-novak @hankypranky @stuckinsaudi1 @emiwrites3reads @shaylybaby2032 @li0nh34rt @tas898 @shadows-and-padlocked-hearts @knight-of-gleefulness @shitfaceddaniel @untoldshortsofthefandoms @deanwherescas @sprnaturallover @wontlookaway @mycuddlycorner

[batterycityghoul]

There’s a Bad Moon on the Rise (Ben Hanscom/Reader) (1/3)

Summary: You're Richie's twin sister and a member of the Losers' Club. When the other members all pack up and leave town, you elect to stay behind with Mike to wait for It to come back. After 27 years pass and Pennywise returns, will you and the other Losers be able to finally defeat him?

Pairing: Ben Hanscom/Reader; Richie Tozier & Reader; Background Richie Tozier/Eddie Kaspbrak

Word Count: 6.2k

Author’s Note: This is finished at 16k. I decided to split it up into three parts to make it easier. If you enjoy this, then letting me know would make my day! If you’ve seen It: Chapter Two, then you know what you’re in store for regarding warnings...but with the added fun of some canon divergence! 

Masterlist / Read on AO3

The summer of 1989 was one of the most terrifying and exhilarating times of your life.

Growing up, all you really had was your twin brother, and by extension, his group of friends. The girls at school never gave you the time of day, which was the way you preferred it, and most of the guys were completely disgusting.  

By the time school let out in June of '89, your only plans involved hanging out with Richie and his friends while avoiding Henry Bowers and his gang if at all possible.  

Of course, you didn't count on Pennywise.  

The Losers’ Club rose and fell that summer all thanks to the clown who seemed hellbent on traumatizing you all for life.  

You were used to the little group that consisted of you, Richie, Eddie, Stan, and Bill. You had grown used to their antics and usually had to be the first to talk them out of their more dangerous plans. Most days, they drove you absolutely crazy. You figured that was probably par for the course since you were the only girl among a group of boys.  

Surprisingly enough, you got along with all of them. Richie was your twin and the person who knew you best. Out of anyone else in the world, you knew that if you had to, you would die for him. He could be a bit of a jackass, but he loved you in his own way.  

Eddie was the worrier of the group. He was always the first to voice a concern, no matter how outlandish it might seem. You spent half your time with Eddie reassuring him that he was fine and the other half trying to get him out of his own head so he would actually enjoy his time with the group.  

Stan was the other much-needed voice of reason for the group. Both of you had to work overtime to keep the others out of trouble and ended up bonding because of it. When you were just a little too done with the others, you looked to Stan to pick up where you left off. Richie liked to joke that maybe you were misplaced at birth and actually Stan's twin since you two were so alike at times.  

And then there was Bill. He seemed to be the unofficial leader of the group, because everyone always turned to him for a plan. He was sweet and despite the tragedy he went through with Georgie, he always wanted to help.  

He was also the one in the group that you had a giant crush on.  

Crushing on one of your brother's best friends was inconvenient at best. Mostly, you were sure Bill only saw you as his best friend's sister and left it at that. At the very least, even if you wished he saw you as more, you could still always count on Bill to have your back.  

So, while you were more than happy with the friends you had because of Richie, you couldn’t help but wonder if your little group would ever grow.  

Fortunately, that summer, three more kids joined The Losers' Club.  

Ben Hanscom, or Ben Handsome as you liked to call him, literally dropped right into your lives. He was shy and sweet and you found yourself gravitating towards him as time went on. He seemed to have a doomed crush on Beverly while you were totally miserable over your feelings for Bill. You spent many moments with Ben, both of you commiserating over the wreck that was your love lives.  

After Ben joined the group, Beverly Marsh was soon to follow. She was funny and fierce and fearless. You couldn't help but admire the way she absolutely took no shit from any of the others and even managed to fit in with the group of misfits that made up The Losers' Club.  

Mike Hanlon seemed to be the final piece of the puzzle you didn't even realize was missing until the infamous rock war against Henry Bowers and his gang. To your surprise, you and the other Losers managed to win, and it seemed the prize was Mike Hanlon. He was studious and calm in a way that leveled out the group. You were grateful for his presence when he joined, because he soon became your only anchor in the whirlwind that was soon to overtake your life.  

You were glad for the friends you made that summer. Without them, you weren't sure if all of you would have survived. Pennywise would have come after one or all of you and without the others, you might not have made it.  

Storming Neibolt House the first time was only the first fracture you experienced as a group, though. After Eddie broke his arm and everyone went their separate ways, you were scared about what it would do to you. As a group, you all stood a chance against Pennywise. But alone with only your brother to fall back on? You couldn't help but think that it would be oh-so-easy for Pennywise to take his revenge on you all.  

You spent most nights terrified out of your mind that the shadows on the wall spelled your doom. The near-constant fear seemed to only help you bond with Richie more. You spent most nights in his bedroom, staying up until all hours of the night, and doing your best to not flinch at any and every strange noise.  

You watched Richie slowly fall apart without the other Losers. You knew there was one in particular he was missing the most, but you didn't push him to talk about his feelings for Eddie. Derry in '89 wasn't the most welcoming place for what Richie was going through and Henry Bowers and his bigotry in no way made it better. All you could do was let Richie know you loved him and accepted him no matter what and he seemed to take solace in that.  

The group didn't reunite until Beverly was taken by Pennywise.  

Going back to Neibolt House to confront Pennywise felt like the most idiotic decision you had ever made, but it was your only choice if you wanted Beverly back. You were so terrified that she would be dead like the other missing kids, and even though you tried not to let fear rule your movements, it was hard not to jump at every shadow or errant noise down in the tunnels.  

In the heat of the battle against Pennywise, when he flashed his several rows of sharp teeth your way, you almost hesitated. You could easily imagine those teeth tearing through your flesh and ripping you apart. It was Bill's voice urging you to swing at Pennywise that had you using the piece of wood in your hand to attempt to hurt Pennywise.  

By the time Pennywise had managed to escape, you were exhausted. Stan was hurt. Beverly was acting odd. Bill had broken down after having to essentially kill Pennywise's borrowed form of Georgie. The rest of you were still shaken and terrified, but everything you suffered through only seemed to work in your favor afterwards. The group came back together and you couldn't help but think that you felt invincible. If you could go up against a murderous clown with your best friends, then there was absolutely nothing you couldn't do.  

Despite everything you all went through and achieved that summer, it wasn't long before the group broke apart again. By the end of that summer, The Losers lost a member. It was a trend that would continue over the next few years until there were only two left in Derry.  

Beverly was the first to leave. She promised to write, but something weird happened. Once Beverly left Derry, you didn't hear from her. You could tell it worried Bill and the others, but a part of you wondered if it wasn't for the best after everything Beverly had endured in Derry. If you could, you would have wanted to cut ties with the town as well. Although, you hated that she also seemed to be cutting ties with The Losers’ Club.  

After Beverly, Ben's family left. And then Bill. And then Stan.  

By the time it was only you, Richie, Mike, and Eddie, you started to wonder what the future held for all of you. You started to wonder if they were ever coming back.  

Eddie and Richie planned on leaving for college, but you had known that you were going to hang back in Derry. You were going to stay with Mike and wait for It to return.  

It was something both of you had decided on and while Mike insisted he would be fine on his own, you knew that it would be a very lonely existence to spend twenty-seven years in Derry just waiting for Pennywise to resurface. You knew that Mike would need someone to help him through the worst of it and while you knew it didn't have to fall to you, you also didn't notice anyone else sacrificing themselves.  

It didn't make it any easier to say goodbye to Richie and Eddie once they finally left.  

"Are you sure you don't want to get out of this shithole?" Richie was watching you as if he had half a mind to just shove you in his car and drive as far away as he could. "You don't have to stay."

"Yeah," you told him with a sad smile. "I kind of do."

"Well, I'll call," he assured you with a pat to your shoulder.  

"Sure," you agreed. He wouldn't. He would forget. You were sure that was what happened when you left Derry. You just forgot. Forgot the town. Forgot the life you led there. Forgot everything.  

If you forgot Pennywise, then how would you ever know to come back and try to finish the job? No, you would stay in the cursed town with Mike and wait. That was all you could really do.  

You watched Richie go with a feeling of dread in the pit of your stomach.  

It wasn't so terrible at first. Pennywise wasn't around to terrorize the residents of Derry or making meals out of fearful children, so a sleepy contentment settled over the town. It was peaceful, but incredibly boring.  

Mike managed to secure a job at Derry Public Library while you started working the check-in desk at The Derry Townhouse.  

You found that even with Mike's company, you still felt incredibly lonely. You found yourself flipping through photo albums and wishing that Richie would call. You wanted to hear how Beverly was doing and if Bill was working on a new book. You wanted to ask Richie if he ever made a move on Eddie or if they went their separate ways. You wanted to see how Stan was doing and if Ben was making a name for himself as a renowned architect.  

You never did, though. If the others didn't remember Derry, then maybe it was for the best.  

You usually spent most nights having dinner with Mike. He was doing his best to research Derry's history and figure out Pennywise's origins. He figured if he could just figure out one weakness, then it would give you all a fighting chance when Pennywise inevitably came back to wreak havoc on Derry.  

Despite how much you hated it, time wore on. Some years seemed to drag on while others flew by. It seemed like you were bringing Mike a sandwich at Derry Public Library when he mentioned forgetting his lunch at home in 2009 and then suddenly it was 2015 and you were starting to see Christmas decorations appear around town.  

You were at the library one night in mid-December, waiting for Mike to finish shelving returns so you could eat dinner together. It was your turn to cook, so you were planning on making spaghetti and meatballs. Mike had already mentioned the leftover birthday cake in the staff breakroom that was up for grabs, so you were hoping to have some for dessert.  

You were sitting at the front desk, scrolling through a news article about Richie adding more dates to his US tour, and trying to distract yourself from growling stomach. You felt a strange mix of grief and pride as you read the article. You were so proud of your brother, but you mourned the years you missed watching him grow in his career and as a person. There was an ache you got every time you checked up on the other Losers, but it was especially fierce when you came across any news about Richie. It seemed unnatural to have to go without your twin for nearly twenty-seven years and some days you didn't know if you could stand it anymore.  

"You know what's coming, don't you? You know what has to happen?"

You startled at the sound of Mike's voice coming from just behind you. He was reading the article over your shoulder, a sad smile on his face when he looked to you.  

You bit your lip before nodding your head. "They have to come back. They have to help us."  

Over the years, you had both talked over the possibility that Pennywise would be back numerous times. You half-hoped the evil fucker wouldn't dare show his face as long as there were any Losers left in Derry to protect it, but you knew better. Your luck had always been rotten and it wouldn't be long before the murders and reports of missing people started featuring in the news again.  

You had spent so much of your time with Mike trying to convince him that you didn't need to involve the others. Two was always better than none, and while you wanted to see your brother and friends again, you didn't want to risk their lives. Mike was adamant that they all had to come back, though. He insisted it wouldn't work otherwise.  

Mike was incredibly vague about what he meant by that. You knew there was something he was hiding from you. It had to do with the research he had carefully hidden from you, prompting you to believe that there was something heading your way that was likely to kill you all. You hated that after all these years together, he still didn't fully trust you. He had only ever asked that you trust him. He claimed that whatever he had discovered was the ace in the hole you needed to defeat Pennywise.  

You felt a sinking feeling in your gut with each day that passed during the year of 2016. You weren't sure when Pennywise would resurface, but you instinctively knew he would reappear during the summer. It only seemed fitting that the summer of 1989 started this strange and horrifying journey, so why shouldn't it be the summer of 2016 that would end it for good?  

You thought it was morbid that you found yourself thinking that either you would die and Pennywise would continue his reign of terror, or you would somehow live and defeat him. With each passing day, Mike's confidence seemed to be infectious. You caught yourself thinking wistfully of a future away from Derry. You weren't sure where you would go or what you would do, but after so long spent trapped in the tiny town, all you knew was that you wanted out.  

Even though you seemed to always be waiting for his return, Pennywise still managed to catch you by surprise. You were going over the books for the Townhouse, having managed to successfully buy it from the owner in 2014 when he decided he wanted to leave Derry, and bemoaning your choice to become a business owner, when the phone rang. You absently reached out to grab the receiver, frowning down at the numbers that you were sure had to be complete bullshit.  

"Derry Townhouse," you muttered into the phone. "How can I help you?"

"He's back," Mike said, his words immediately sending a chill down your spine. "I need you to meet me right now."  

You weren't really sure how you got from being on the phone with Mike to standing at his side, both of you struck speechless by the bloody message Pennywise had left behind for you to find.  

"Come home," you muttered, feeling fear begin to settle deep within your gut. You tried to fight it off, knowing that was exactly the reaction Pennywise was looking for from you, but you couldn’t help it.  

Mike sucked in a deep breath, as if steeling himself, before he put an arm around your shoulders. "Let's go back to the library," he suggested with a weight to his words that let you know what was coming.

Mike volunteered to make the calls. He seemed a lot more level-headed about what had to happen than you did. You felt like you were sentencing everyone you loved to die. You didn't know how Mike was able to stomach calling each and every former Loser and reminding them of the oath they had sworn in 1989.  

Mike had always been resolute in doing what it took to survive, though. Trapping himself in Derry for twenty-seven years, with the memories and ghosts and fear, was more than enough proof of that.  

When the last phone call was finished, Mike turned to offer you a grimace.  

"I guess we'll have to wait and see what happens now. But I think they'll show up. They have to," he added with a tone that told you he didn't fully believe that. "Do you have any open rooms at the Townhouse?"

You couldn't help but bark out a surprised laugh. "Business isn't exactly booming," you offered when Mike shot you a confused look. "I can house the Losers."

"Then all we have left to do is wait," Mike added with a wry twist to his lips that told you what he was thinking.  

You had both done nothing but wait for the last twenty-seven years.  

It was later that night, after you managed to drag yourself back home, when you got a phone call from a number you didn't recognize.  

"Hello?"

"How the fuck did I forget I have a sister?"

You laughed, a smile on your face. "That's the magic of Derry," you said. "Hey, Richie. I've missed you."

"I think I've missed you too. Fuck," he hissed. "This is so fucking weird. I can remember Mom and Dad, but not you. How the fuck is that fair?"

"Mom and Dad eventually left. I never did." There was a heavy silence left on the line that made you mourn the easy communication you used to share with Richie. "How did you end up with my number?"

"When I stopped freaking the fuck out, I called Mike back and asked him for it. It's funny," he mused with a tone that suggested it was anything but funny to him. "I always felt like there was something missing, but I couldn't figure it out. Like there was someone there who should have been. I guess it was you," he offered with a sigh. "So, hey, you know I'm famous now?"

You felt a genuine smile break out on your face as Richie launched into telling you a story about an afterparty he once attended that resulted in him getting so wasted he accidentally threw up all over a former Spice Girl.  

Later, as you were settling down in bed, you couldn't quite fight off the anxiety that had taken hold of you. If Richie came back to Derry, then Richie would have to fight Pennywise. You couldn't quite justify the idea of making your brother relive some of his worst memories, but you knew that it had to happen. If you believed Mike, and you did, then it would have to be all of you. It didn’t mean you had to like it, though.  

You reached over to turn off the lamp on your nightstand, plunging your room into darkness.  

Moonlight peeked around your bedroom curtains, lending you enough light to just see the outline of the other pieces of furniture in your room. You started to close your eyes, but you caught sight of something that looked out of place.  

There was a figure standing just near the foot of your bed. You felt your breath hitch, a familiar thrill of terror coursing through you when the figure seemed to take a step closer. You heard a wheezing, rattling breath as a hand reached out to rest on the edge of the bed.  

You gasped out a choked breath before you made yourself move, quickly turning on the lamp again. When you looked to the end of your bed to see that there wasn't actually anyone there, you let out a relieved breath. It had seemed so real and with Pennywise back, you couldn't help but wonder if this was It's doing.  

You felt like a child when you left the lamp on, only managing to doze off every once in a while, before jerking back awake to hastily check and make sure no one was standing at the end of your bed.  

You remembered the sleepless nights you suffered in ‘89 because of the same brand of fear you felt that night. There were nights when you swore there was someone else in your room while you were trying to sleep. Whether it was Pennywise’s demented giggle jolting you out of sleep or the feeling of fingers drifting over your ankle accompanied by the sound of a rasping, wheezing breath. You weren’t sure you actually got a full night of sleep that summer and you worried you were in store for the same now that Pennywise was around yet again.  

You spent the next day booking rooms for the other members of the Losers’ Club and counting down the hours until you were all supposed to meet for dinner. You felt a nervous excitement at the idea of finally seeing everyone again. You weren't really sure how everyone would react to remembering Pennywise and the summer of 1989, but you were nearly relieved that it wouldn’t just be you and Mike any longer. It felt like you had been carrying around a terrible secret for years and now the burden would finally be lifted just the slightest bit from your shoulders.  

When you got to Jade of the Orient, you had to sit in your car for a few moments and take deep breaths. You weren't sure why you were so nervous, but you couldn't help but fear that the group dinner was going to be disastrous. You didn't know how much the others remembered, but you were sure once the full effect of Derry began to hit them, it wasn't going to be pretty.  

As you walked up to the restaurant, you noticed a man and a woman standing near the entrance. You felt a smile break out at the sight of the red hair on the woman. You knew instinctively who she was as you got closer.  

"Beverly?" You couldn't help but ask as you considered her.  

Beverly turned to look at you, her eyes narrowing for a split second as she attempted to recognize you, before her eyes went wide. "Y/N?"

"Yeah," you confirmed with a nod of your head as you moved to pull her into a hug.  

"God, it's been so long," Beverly said as she pulled back. You noticed her look at the guy standing just behind her before she glanced back to you. "Ben," she mouthed with a tilt of her head, silently clueing you in to the man's identity.  

"Ben Handsome," you started as you took a step away from Beverly. "Is that you?"

You noticed a blush spread across his cheeks before he ducked his head, suddenly sheepish. It was a gesture you recognized from childhood and you couldn't help but let out a pleased laugh as you moved to tug him into a hug as well.  

"It's good to see you, Y/N," he murmured in your ear.  

You pulled back and let yourself fully consider Ben. You couldn't help but think that he was remarkably handsome and you felt yourself blush when your eyes met his. His hands were on your shoulders and even though it was well past the moment when you should have stepped away, you felt nearly transfixed by him.  

You were struggling to think of something to say, not sure if the moment was turning awkward or oddly heated, when you were interrupted by the sound of someone clearing their throat.  

You glanced over to see Richie standing just a few feet away. "Well, you all look amazing," he observed as he studied you, Beverly, and Ben. "What the fuck happened to me?" He wondered with a self-deprecating tilt to his lips.  

"Richie," you couldn't help but say as you practically flung yourself at your brother.  

"Hey, Y/N," he said with a delighted chuckle before he brought his arms up to embrace you. "It's been a while, hasn't it?"  

"Too long," you agreed with a sigh as you pulled away from him. You stepped back so he could have his own little reunions with Bev and Ben as well.  

"So, were you guys going to stand out here all night or are we going to get on with this impromptu Losers' Club meeting?" Richie asked after hugging Beverly and shaking hands with Ben. "You three looked kind of cozy out here," he added with a raised eyebrow in your direction.  

You shook your head and turned towards the entrance to the restaurant. "Beep beep, Richie," you muttered before you pulled the door open and stepped inside.  

Reuniting with Bill and Eddie felt just as bizarre and surreal as seeing Richie, Beverly, and Ben again for the first time. Your eyes kept seeking out the empty chair at the table, however. You wondered where Stan was, but like with every meeting of the Losers' Club, it quickly turned loud and chaotic.  

Richie couldn't help but poke fun at Eddie and while you were onto him, it felt like you were able to breathe again after years of suffocating within Derry's walls. You had felt trapped for so long that you forgot what it was like to have almost everyone back with you again. You listened to everyone catch up, your eyes seeking out Bill from time to time. You could still feel the remnants of your childhood infatuation and a part of you wondered if you would ever be over him. You kept glancing to where a wedding band had recently resided on his left hand, surreptitiously reminding yourself that while Bill was recently divorced, it was unlikely that he would ever feel anything for you.  

You focused on the little things that made you feel at peace for the first time in years. Mike's small, proud grin as he listened to Bill talk about his new book and the way Richie kept glancing at Eddie, as if he couldn't believe they were in the same room again. You also saw the spark of interest in Richie's eyes once Eddie mentioned he was separated and well on his way to a divorce.  

You noticed the soft, private grins Beverly shot Bill and the way Ben kept watching Beverly with a reverence that told you his childhood crush was still in effect as well. You let their laughter wash over you as you ate and drank, your thoughts turning to Stan more and more often as the evening wore on and he failed to appear.  

"So, Y/N," Ben started as he leaned forward in his seat, focusing on you. "What have you been doing all these years?" You knew he was trying to deflect after Richie had embarrassed him by calling him hot, so you decided to have mercy on him.  

"I, uh," you started before taking a sip of your drink. "I've been running Derry Townhouse for the past few years."

"You own that shithole?" Richie asked with incredulity in his tone.  

You rolled your eyes before reaching across Beverly to pinch Richie's arm. "Yes," you answered. "And since you're all staying there for free, I'd like a little more gratitude."

"Thanks, Y/N," you heard Ben pipe up before the rest of the Losers toasted to you.  

You had fooled yourself into thinking it might be a nice, uneventful reunion, but you should have known better. Pennywise had to take the first shot at the Losers' Club through the most disturbing and grotesque display.  

The Pennywise bomb had just been dropped on the rest of the Losers right before the fortune cookies were dropped off at your table. Mike had reminded them of the oath they had all sworn and while Richie had attempted to lighten the mood a bit, you knew that everyone was well on their way to freaking out.  

Once Eddie pointed out that his fortune was just one word printed on the small slip of paper, you realized that none of your fortune cookies actually contained a typical fortune.

After you deciphered the message from the fortune cookies, an ominous warning about Stan's fate that read 'I Guess Stanley Could Not Cut It,' chaos erupted from the bowl of unopened fortune cookies in the middle of the table.  

You barely had time to process the fact that you were all being attacked by nightmarish monstrosities when you felt a hand wrap around your bicep, quickly pulling you away from the table. You looked over to see Mike, his eyes wide and frightened, as if he too had allowed himself to forget for a moment why you had been forced to call the Losers back to Derry.  

It wasn't long before there were horrifying creatures flying about the room, knocking into the light fixtures and diving towards you all.  

You heard Eddie scream and glanced over to see Ben trying to shield Eddie from something attempting take a bite out of him. Richie yelled Eddie's name, concern and fear clear in his voice. You only had a moment to make sure your brother was safe before something big and terrifying and screeching flew right into you.  

"Fuck!" You blurted as you tried to ward off whatever was trying to sink its talons into your forearm.  

You felt an arm around your waist before someone spun you away from the threat. You were suddenly facing the wall while someone stood at your back, shouting as they tried to face the creature that was just attacking you. You were panting for breath, not sure if it was out of fear or the adrenaline crashing over you, as you turned to see it was Bill who had saved you.  

"Y/N! You okay?" You heard Richie ask, but you didn't get much of a chance to respond before Mike picked up a chair and began to smash it over the middle of the table in an attempt to destroy the rest of the fortune cookies, insisting that what you were all seeing wasn't actually real.  

You were all more than a little jumpy as you finally gathered outside Jade of the Orient. After the hilariously inappropriate way Richie had yelled at a kid, forgetting for a moment a line from his own comedy routine, you were more than ready to crawl into bed and forget everything.  

You didn't even realize that Beverly was trying to get in touch with Stan, because you were so distracted by the way everyone else was freaking out. Richie and Eddie were yelling at Mike for lying to everyone by conveniently forgetting to mention Pennywise when he called everyone home while Ben and Bill seemed to be silently trying to process everything that had just happened.  

Mike was doing his best to keep everyone from skipping town when Beverly turned to face the rest of you, her phone held to her ear. She quickly put the call on speaker, allowing all of you to hear who was on the other line.  

It wasn't until you heard Stan's wife confirm that Stan was dead that you realized all of your worst fears were coming true. The Losers' Club hadn't even had an opportunity to really face Pennywise and one of you was already gone.  

You were barely aware of the fact that you were struggling to breathe. Stan couldn't be dead. Stan was always the shared voice of reason with you and one of the first to try to talk some sense into the Losers’ Club. He was Stan. Steady and dependable and sarcastic as hell. And he was dead.

"Mike," you called, tears starting to track down your face. "Did we kill Stan?" You whispered as you rounded on him, your breath stuttering in your chest at the thought. "When we called him, did we kill him? Did we do this? Is it our fault?" You could no longer justify calling everyone to ask them to return to Derry. Stan was dead and you couldn’t help but feel like it was all because you weren’t capable of facing Pennywise by yourself. Your fear of getting everyone you loved killed was washing over you and stealing your breath away.  

"Y/N, no," Mike murmured before he moved to pull you into his arms. You only had a moment to rest your head on his shoulder, the tears flowing freely as guilt threatened to overwhelm you, before you were tugged out of Mike's hold.  

"Hey, what the fuck did you do to my sister?" You heard Richie ask as he pulled you into a hug.  

"Yeah, fuckwad, why are you making Y/N cry?" Eddie jumped in. His specific brand of indignation in his tone had you laughing somewhat hysterically into Richie's shoulder.  

"He didn't do anything," you assured them as you finally managed to calm down. “I’m just upset about Stan.” You knew that what you were feeling in that moment was just going to give Pennywise nightmare fuel against you later. How was he going to twist this to haunt you? You shuddered at the thought before you patted Richie on the shoulder and stepped back. "I'm okay," you managed to say as you reached up to hastily wipe away the tears still tracking down your cheeks.  

You felt someone place a hand on your shoulder and you looked back to see Beverly standing there. You noticed the tears welling in her eyes and the haunted expression on her face and knew that Stan's death was hitting her just as hard.  

"Come on, Y/N," Richie pleaded as he pulled your attention back towards him. "Let's just get the fuck out of this shitty town."

"I’m not going anywhere, Richie. I live here," you reminded him with a helpless shrug of your shoulders.

"Well, you're moving," he told you as if it was that easy. He let out an incredulous laugh as he stuffed his hands into the pockets of his coat. He looked like he was trying to resist the urge to reach out and grab your arm, as if he was toying with the idea of dragging you out of Derry if he had to. "I can't believe I let you stay here," he muttered.  

"I had to," you argued with a shake of your head. "I couldn't leave Mike alone all these years."

Richie snorted before he rolled his eyes. "Just, come on," he insisted as he nodded over towards his car. "You too, Eduardo. Let's go."

"Yeah, I'm right there with you," Eddie agreed as he made a break for his car.  

"I drove myself here," you reminded Richie when he seemed like he was about to herd you towards his car.  

"Fine. Fuck," Richie sighed as he glanced away. "Meet us at the Townhouse," he conceded before he took off across the parking lot.  

You turned and met Mike's gaze, silently asking what you should do now.  

"I've got him if you've got them," Mike said as he nodded over towards Bill. "There's something I've got to show him. But we'll see you at the Townhouse."

"Yeah, okay," you allowed with a grimace.  

"Y/N," Mike called before you could fully turn away from him. He pulled you into a hug, letting you rest your weight on him for a moment.  

"It was Stan, Mike," you muttered into his shoulder. "Stan."

"I know," Mike soothed as he pulled you closer for a brief moment. "We're going to kill It this time. We'll make It pay. But we can't do that if the rest of us don't band together."

"Yeah," you sighed, understanding what he was telling you to do. You had to go to the Townhouse and make sure none of the Losers were trying to skip town.  

"Y/N," Mike called again just as you were reaching your car. "Thanks," he said when you turned to look at him. "I really couldn't imagine doing any of this without you."

You offered him a weak smile and a nod before you got behind the wheel of your car.  

If you cried all the way to the Townhouse, mourning Stan and wishing that you could go back in time and stop Mike from calling him, then no one had to know but you.

[bondsmagii]

This is definitely one of the… wilder stories here, but as always, I suppose people will believe what they will. 

This will unfortunately require some backstory, but I guess you could say the long and the short of it is that I played at being God, and it. Well. Kind of sucked, actually.

So, the backstory. I’ll try to keep it brief. I grew up in a small country village about forty-five minutes away from Belfast, Ireland. There wasn’t much going on there, as you could imagine – just a standard rural Irish town, where the most exciting thing that might happen in a week was old Farmer Joe getting a new tractor or something. Anyway, I’m not sure how many of you know about Ireland’s rather troubled past, but for the most part I missed all that. I was born around the time things were finally settling down, and while my earlier memories are filled with bomb scares and low-flying helicopters and gunshots in the night, the distant sound of shouting and the acrid smell of smoke burning a little too close for comfort, by the time I hit my teenage years most of it had wrapped up. Of course, there was the occasional scare here and there, and I’m not saying my friends and I didn’t go out looking for trouble once we were old enough, but it wasn’t the same. I’m not saying that out of a sense of, I don’t know, regret or annoyance or anything. Now I’m older, I’m not so enamoured by the idea of that much violence. I’m just saying it wasn’t really a patch on the kind of violence that used to happened there – the kind of violence that fascinated my friends and I so much. It sounds bad, but really we were just kids being kids. Little boys everywhere play at war games. It just so happened that the war we were playing had happened in our own country. It’s difficult not to be obsessed, when you see the reflection of history on the faces of every generation around you. Even slightly older siblings would know all about it – it wasn’t something you asked your grandfather, distant war stories over some vague European country that you’ve only seen on a map in your Geography classroom. This was our street corners, our high streets, the road outside the house. Here the grass verge at the side of the road where the bodies were dumped; there the lay-by where over a dozen people were blown to pieces. It was awful, but we were children. We were enamoured.

Anyway. The only violence we got really involved in was the summer rioting that happened yearly, like clockwork. It sounds like a joke, but that’s how it goes. You don’t need to know the details, but suffice to say in mid-July every year, the city would light up like we were back in the 1970s. Localised, of course, and still nowhere near as drastic as it used to be, but enough to get a taste. Petrol bombs. Police lines. Armoured cars. Water cannons. Unrestrained summer fun, you could say. But that’s for a bit later.

I’m a writer. I have been since I was four years old. Generally speaking I’m a horror writer, but I’ve branched into historical fiction a fair bit over the years. Living in Ireland, growing up how I did, it was inevitable that I would develop a fascination for Irish history. I was always a very curious child, my head in books, chasing up stories that would keep me awake at night. I never knew any boundaries. I would go after answers with military precision, asking questions, going places I shouldn’t. Dangerous for anyone, of course, but in a country like mine, where crossing the road could quite literally lead to your murder? It was reckless. I was reckless. But that’s the thing about being that age. You think you’re invincible. You think you can do anything.

I was about fourteen or fifteen, at the height of this obsession. I believe I was fifteen when I wrote this particular story, but it’s difficult to say. It was part of a series, and I was going back and forth on it and other projects for many years. Here we finally get to the point of the whole story: I had developed an obsession with Irish history, as I said, and specifically the more “modern” history – from 1916 onwards, the Easter Rising, the War of Independence, all that. I was fascinated by the Irish struggle for freedom, and while age and hindsight has lessened my… enthusiasm for the violence, I do maintain a strong opinion towards the whole thing, which is not the point here so I won’t get into it. What I’m trying to say is that my stories reflected this enthusiasm, and were undoubtedly glorifying in nature, and also at that age I was more concerned with living the fantasy than doing the research, so it was all very self-indulgent. I’m sure anyone who wrote at that age knows what I mean.

My main character… well. I’m sure you know what to expect. He was—well. Me, really. In the way of all main characters at that age, and perhaps a little even as we get older, there’s a piece of us inside all our main characters. Sometimes a little piece, other times just a cooler and more badass version of yourself. Michael was that for me. I suppose that must is obvious; I wasn’t even trying to be subtle. My name is of course Miceál, which for those of you keeping track is the Irish form of Michael. I’m just grateful that I didn’t go as far as to give him my last name, too, but everything else was there. He looked like me, he held the same views and beliefs as me, he acted like me – or at least, he acted in the ways I liked to think I’d act, or how I imagined acting later that night in the shower, reliving the scenario again. He was the best kind of self-insert character, indulgent and fun and a good friend to me. I poured a lot of myself into him. I poured everything into him. He was a constant companion, something that became ever more important to me as my real life—well, went to shit. To put it mildly. I would sit in my room writing my stories, and Michael would go out there and fight the good fight, killing and bombing for good old Ireland, and then I’d shut my computer down and go to sleep feeling just a little better than otherwise.

I’m not afraid to say that I can be obsessive. I like to get into the heads of my characters; I like to know them as well as I know everything. Yes, Michael was me, but he was also a version of me who had done things I have never done. Sometimes I would try to imagine myself as him; wonder what it was like to see through his eyes. Wonder what a me who had done that would look like. Wonder what he would do in a situation. I asked myself that a few times; a lot of times. What would Michael do? I could have put that shit on a wristband. I didn’t think anything of it at the time. I’ve always been a bit of a method writer like that. It was normal, until it wasn’t.

I first saw Michael on a hot July day, in Belfast. What we call the rioting season had come around; my friends and I were there to take advantage. Just at the sidelines, mind you – nobody wants to get a face full of water cannon, even on the hottest of days. Michael was in the thick of it though. Of course he was. I’d written him to be that way.

I couldn’t take my eyes off of him. At first I thought I must be seeing things, but the more I looked the more I realised he looked exactly like me. Only he was a little taller, a little fitter, and his hair looked different. His clothing was different, too; perhaps a couple of decades out of date, but looking at him I saw his clothing didn’t remain consistent. The changes were subtle – material, tone – but I noticed. Looking back, I assume it’s because I never did give a specific date for his story to occur in. Well, wherever he was from he was there now, throwing rocks with the best of them, skipping from stone to stone and hurling them at police lines with an easy swing that could only come from years of practise. When we had all finally cleaned out the area – soldiers coming, a helicopter, the kind of trouble you don’t want to toy with – I managed to catch up with him. He was talking to my friends. They noticed we were both there, but didn’t seem to realise we were two different people. The whole time we were all talking, I couldn’t take my eyes off of Michael. I tried, because I knew how obvious I was being, but I just couldn’t. I couldn’t work him out. I couldn’t even trust that’s what I was seeing. And the whole time, Michael watched me back. I knew the look in his eyes. It was his smug little, I know something you don’t know look. Of course I knew it. I had made him like that. I had given him that look.

I didn’t see him for some time after that. Believe it or not, I put it out of my head. I mean, come on. It was probably some other guy that my friends knew. We were in Belfast enough, and Michael isn’t exactly an uncommon name. I put it out of my mind, but I was sure that sometimes, I saw him. I was sure I’d see him in Belfast, ducking down side streets or leaning in close conversation with someone I couldn’t make out. He was always watching me. Sometimes I’d feel eyes on me and know it was him, but when I looked around I wouldn’t spot him. On some occasions – and these were always the worst – I would feel his eyes behind my own. Like he was on the inside looking out, moving independently in there, a set of eyes swivelling around over my own. It happened most often when I was trying to write his story. As you can imagine, I was nervous to do so. The more I thought I saw him, the less I wanted to write, but I didn’t think that was a good idea either. I didn’t know what to do.

It was a sunny weekend just before school started back after summer that I finally resolved to do something about it. I didn’t even feel stupid as I booted up my old Windows 95 desktop and opened Word. Michael’s story was there, in 12-point font as I always wrote then, plenty of enthusiasm but a lot less technical skill. My fingers hovered over the keyboard for a moment, and then I typed.

Hello?

Nothing, of course. I deleted the word, wondering what I had expected. Feeling a little stupid now, I tried to think about where to go with the story. It was difficult to write now I had some kind of real person to assign to it all – what were the ethics here? How could I—

I won’t get into that. It would be a philosophical essay all of its own. I sat for a while wondering what to write, and then it hit me that the story had changed. The words Michael had spoken, in the paragraph that I had left off – they were no longer the words I had written. I forget what the original words were now, but they were something relatively simple; some response to another character, and I remember that another name was mentioned in it – the name of Michael’s in-universe best friend, Eamon. Now that name was gone, and the rest of the text had changed, too. Now the writing read something different entirely.

I thought you wanted to know?

I lied earlier. I said that age and experience and perhaps some more emotional maturity had led me to turn away from the kind of violence that fascinated me so much then, and I have no doubt that under normal circumstances it would have done. I had somewhat of a speed run, however; I turned my back on it because

I’m getting ahead of myself.

I had often wondered what it would be like to do what Michael did, of course. To kill and risk death for a cause, to face down prison, torture, exile. I had wondered what it would be like to commit those acts; how easy or difficult it would be to pull a trigger or push a detonator. I liked to think, in my foolish, idealistic teenage mind, that if it came down to it I could. Of course, I was in the very privileged position to not have to actually answer that question.

Michael, on the other hand, knew. And Michael was, if not me, than a product of me. Could it be possible that he could show me?

I ignored the message for several days. I didn’t know what to think. Truth be told I thought I was going mad. School started again and I got so busy that I almost, almost forgot about it – and then I opened the document by mistake one day, got into reading it over, laughing at my brilliant comebacks, you know how it is. And there it was again.

I thought you wanted to know?

Yes, I remember thinking. It stunned me – I remember that. I didn’t want to mess with this kind of stuff – I’ve always been a huge believer in the paranormal, always been cautious when it comes to fucking with that kind of stuff. I believe that magic like this, it requires intent. It needs you to be sure. It knows how you feel, true in your heart. So even when I ignored it again, even when I deleted the words and re-wrote whatever the original had been, even as I didn’t reply… I knew in my heart that my question had been heard by something. I could feel Michael’s eyes on me again, though now I wondered if it was Michael’s eyes, or something else entirely. It felt like a weight. Have you ever been in an old, old place, where you can practically feel the people who lived and died there; reach out and touch them? It felt like that. Like the weight of history was pressing down on me. I didn’t fall asleep easily that night, but when I did sleep was dark and endless.

I don’t know how long I spent in that state. In reality it was only seven hours; I woke up with my alarm. In that time period, wherever I was – because I was not living – I seemed to witness a hundred different lives. Over the course of Michael’s story I had him do all kinds of things; live all kinds of situations. I deleted things, changed others, added things in. I wrote what would now be called alternate universes. In that night I experienced them all. I know how it feels now. I know how it feels to pull a trigger; to watch the spray of someone’s life splatter a wall or a windscreen or the screaming backseat passengers of a car. I know how it feels to push the button, the one that sends a charge surging down a wire or flickering out over my head in an invisible wave of death, notifying the bomb, detonating the explosives. I know how it feels to sit in a hotel bar across a border, listening to the news, sipping a drink and feeling my heart beat in my chest as I add more numbers to the tally, more blood to my hands. I know how it feels to be shot, to be beaten, to watch a friend die, to kill someone who used to be – who still is, despite everything – a friend. I know how it feels to cough blood into my hands, onto the ground; to grip a wound that won’t stop bleeding; the blinding flash of an explosive detonating too soon and how the whole world seems to roar and how there’s a difference between the thud and slap of wet mud hitting the ground and the warmer, denser rain of something that used to be human. For days, weeks, years – I walked in Michael’s shoes, I lived his life, I committed every act.

I felt his pain. His fear. This hellish world that he lived in, created to kill and die and lose and fear, over and over. To meet his God and to finally, finally ask – why?

And what could I say? Because I wanted to know?

Well. Now I do.

[arewelonely]

wait for me

cw: brief mention of suicidal ideation, anxiety attack

part five

––

He would lie if he told himself that he didn’t like the way his heart beat around her.

“And I’m telling you, she’d be down to… yuh know… if you ever wanted to.”

And it wasn’t just that she was someone to think about other than himself. He had plenty of those: his mother, his father–if he was being particularly generous, Nott.

“I mean, I asked her to Sluggy’s asskissing party, and she said no. Like, she knows you aren’t invited, Malfoy.” Crabbe snorted. “There’s no chance for you to take her.”

And fighting with her was different from bickering with Zabini. Draco inhaled. He remembered the flash of her eyes when she shot hexes at him. She was striking and strong when deflecting spells.

“And she still said no,” Crabbe continued.

“Hey, Crabbe,” Draco said harshly, leaning forward, “I’ll make it very clear: she’s saying no to you, not waiting on me, aight?”

Crabbe stared back from his couch, stunned.

Nott snorted next to him, reaching out to pat Crabbe on the back. He glanced at Draco. “Retiens rien, ouais?”

Draco rolled his eyes and picked up the book that lay useless in his lap. “Je mens pas.”

“Oi, cut it out with the French, you two,” Crabbe grumbled. “I just want Pansy to say yes.”

Theo did a poor job of holding back another snort and Draco felt his mouth squirm with a smile: bittersweet amusement.

Pansy sat oblivious a few couches over, chatting softly with Zabini and Daphne, and Draco flipped a page in his book, the crinkle of the page matching the crackle of the fire.

“Haven’t seen you here in awhile, boy,” Theo said, stretching to nudge Draco’s leg with his foot.

“Yeah, really busy, I guess.”

“The guys were looking for you last night.”

Draco raised his eyebrows. No kidding. He remembered the way Granger’s locs fell out of her bun when she moved quickly. The force with which she spoke. Her strange gentleness when he almost crumbled.

“I’ll have to join you next time,” Draco said quickly. “It’s been awhile.”

“I mean, I get it,” Crabbe said, and Draco highly doubted it. “After everything, Narcissa must be on your case to at least–”

Nott cuffed him on the ear and Crabbe shuddered away. “Seriously?”

“I wasn’t going to say anything bad!” Crabbe insisted, waving Theo off and holding his ear in his palm. “Just that she must want you to do really well at, like, everything to make up for–”

Draco stood up, the book falling from his hands.

He left Theo’s “oh my fucking Merlin, Vincent” behind him as his gut churned. Anxiety shot up through his legs and his arms. He wondered for a moment what he might do, feared for a moment he would stand as a statue in the middle of the Slytherin common room until the end of time. He forced his legs to inch forward one after another.

His ears rung and Blaise was saying something behind him, or Pansy was, and her voice was too sugary sweet for him to handle right now.

The heat from the fireplace burned his cheeks as he walked past, heading to the portrait hole. His veins ached with distress and his joints protested overuse, though he had sat all day.

He swore he could hear the snake hiss in his ear.

It wasn’t any quieter in the hallway, the snake–honestly it might have pounded on his forearm more–and his fellow Slytherins were calling to him from the portrait hole, but he kept moving through the haze and half hoped his heart would beat itself to death.

The tension in his muscles knew where to take him, and he was inside the Room of Requirement, after painfully looking over his shoulder for any followers, before his brain somewhat settled. In this room, the anxiety left him, as it did each time–he could work and research and repair this horrible Vanishing Cabinet and convince himself that he was working towards the goal–

“Fuck!” Draco screamed, spinning around to stare at the closed door of the room. “Fuck!”

He was no closer to killing his Headmaster than he was outside of this room–it was that the Room itself convinced him he was, no? He pleaded and pleaded for a solution each time he paced outside the door. The Room gave him one.

He marched forward, twisted, and then slammed his fist into the wall. He groaned and stumbled back, his knuckles pounding, his forearm tensed. The snake’s venom seeped into his blood; it made the muscles there sore.

Draco’s breathing shook again, unsteady in and unsteady out. He was crying, or dissolving–he wished he could explode. He wished he had enough energy, mental or physical, to punch the wall again, but the snake held his arm to his side like a weight. The snake protected the arm, this spell-casting arm. The snake knew, as Draco did, as the Room, deep down, must have known as well:

The Vanishing Cabinet could only bring the minions here to save the day after the deed was done. Draco’s wand would have to cast the final curse.

His pocket seemed to vibrate with the power it held: it contained a future murder weapon. Draco squeezed his eyes shut, so all was dark.

This was not what he wanted to do with this wand when he received it from Ollivander only five years ago. This was not how he had imagined he would spend his school years when he snatched his already opened Hogwarts letter from atop the marble kitchen counter. He had skimmed the book list, the feeling in his stomach not this terrified awful anxiety but joy, jitters, excitement of Potions and Hogwarts and this place that his parents had been, his family had all been before him, he, too, would get the chance to go!

Draco opened his eyes, his face squirming as the world blurred back into focus. The Vanishing Cabinet in front of him should never have revealed itself. He should be studying for the N.E.W.T.s. He should be attending Sluggy’s asskissing party, making professional connections for a Potions Mastery after Hogwarts. He shouldn’t be in this room every other night, holding back tears or succumbing to the overwhelming tension in his chest that never failed to remind him he was meant to end a man’s life.

And not a stranger’s life–a man he had grown up around. A man who had welcomed him home every September for five years. A man who had done the same this year, who Draco could have sworn had looked him in the eyes as he did so. A man who seemed to know his end was coming near.

Draco sobbed.

A man who seemed to know which cowardly prat was going to bring around his end, if only to avoid his own.

Draco allowed his knees to buckle and his arse to stumble on to the ground. He held his forehead in a hand and fisted his hair with the other.

“Fucking Merlin,” he breathed. “I…”

“You see?”

His neck snapped up and he stared at the door, slowly reaching for his wand.

“Harry, it doesn’t mean that he’s inside there.”

Draco exhaled. Granger.

“Yeah, but, look! He’s literally nowhere else.”

“I dunno what to tell you, mate, but this kind of seems like a–” And the Weasel.

“Just look, guys, okay?”

Draco’s hand clenched around his wand. He stood and faced the door, summoning his books to him slowly as he listened to their chatter. If they were following him, he’d at least give them a reason for it. Or, he’d try. Because it was incredibly fucking difficult to do anything when he listened to their bickering and caring banter only a few metres away.

---

In some ways, he expected it. The twats’ and Granger’s voices had died down several hours before, but she had been sorted in Gryffindor for a reason, and he almost snorted when she scrambled to her feet upon his exit from the Room.

“Thought you would’ve fallen asleep by now,” he said, although he hadn’t.

The circles under her eyes were a bit deeper this early morning, and she pressed her lips together, arms crossed beneath a large woven jumper, as she looked him up and down.

Draco inhaled. “Like what you see?”

Granger’s shock was a joy to watch, and he couldn’t help the smirk that fluttered across his lips as she sputtered out a response.

“What��I–what the hell were you doing in there?”

“I don’t see how it’s any of your business,” Draco informed her, and he began to walk down the candlelit corridor, biting his lip when her footsteps joined his insistently.

“I don’t see how it’s not, as you’ve been absolutely off the rails this year–”

Draco risked a glance and raised an eyebrow down at her. “I have?”

Granger blinked. “You’ve–I think it’s my business when you’re involved in Dark Magic–”

The muscles in his neck tensed. He resumed looking straight ahead, continuing down this hallway though the most direct way back to the Slytherin common room required a left turn a few steps prior. “How do you know it’s Dark Magic?”

“I…”

It truly was wonderful to witness when the class know-it-all couldn’t think of anything to say.

“Quite presumptuously judgy, aren’t you?”

Her nails dug into his arm, instantly dragging him to a stop. Panic squirmed through the snake–she was so close. Her eyes flashed, breathing hard. “How dare you. You have no right to say any of this. Tell me what you’re doing.”

Draco felt his heart pound. He did have no right. He knew this. And this line he approached, it was a very unsteady one. He could not see on either side of it, and it felt a bit like flying–he just didn’t know whether he chased the Snitch or a trick ball thrown by his father in practice to sharpen his senses.

“Am I wrong, though?”

Granger’s jaw worked and her nose flared. Her eyes were the deepest brown, lit up by the flickering candles on the walls. She was unequivocally gorgeous, and she was screaming at him.

She released his arm–he wondered if her nails would leave dents in his skin–and took a few steps back, her hands in the air and gesturing emphatically. “After everything, Malfoy, all the crap you’ve pulled for years now–I cannot believe you would spout this haughty bullshit! You have nothing to stand on, truly, how dare you lecture me about–about anything?!”

Thank Merlin the hallway was still empty. “If you would keep your fucking voice down–”

Granger let out a noise of pure disbelief. “If you would actually do something good for once in your sorry–”

Draco pressed his hand to the top of his nose and shut his eyes. “I think I figured out a way to not do it, okay?”

“Not to–”

Draco opened his eyes. “Not to do it.”

Granger stepped forward. “Not to do what?”

He shook his head. “Not to do it.”

She blinked, stunned, almost in time with the candles’ flickering. “You can’t–”

He laughed harshly. “Oh, I know.”

“You…” her mouth parted and she stood in silence for several seconds. The sudden lack of noise was almost peaceful, except it meant that Draco had no idea what she thought.

He raised his eyebrows. “I can’t and I have to, regardless of which way I look at it.”

Granger crossed her arms again. “Why are you telling me this?”

“Because you aren’t going to tell anyone else,” he said, and perhaps this was the truth. Why did anyone do anything these days?

“You don’t know that.”

“You haven’t told the two twats about our previous encounters this year,” he said.

Granger frowned. “How do you…”

“They would be on me all the time if you had. They very actively do not trust me, as I’m sure you know.”

Granger lifted her chin. “I do not trust you.”

Draco looked at her pointedly. “Where is your wand?”

Her arms were crossed, and her wand was nowhere in sight. She knew this, as… they were her arms, but she looked down at them nonetheless.

His chest warmed briefly, and he turned away to continue walking, his own wand stashed in his pocket as well.

They walked in silence for a few breaths, Granger’s quiet pads on the ground behind him covering up the snake’s hissing in his ear. He made a turn and snorted to himself when Granger took a breath.

“Hey, Malfoy?”

“Yes, Granger?”

She reappeared next to him. “Why are you going to the Gryffindor Towers?”

He shot her a glance. “Isn’t that your house?” he drawled.

“What business do you have there?”

He raised his eyebrows at her jumper-clad-rumpled figure and ignored some portrait who grumbled as they passed by. Why did anyone do anything these days?

Granger stopped in her tracks and Draco begrudgingly followed suit, spinning slowly to catch her eye. “I’d far sooner return you to your common room than have you,” she snorted, “escort me to mine.”

“Well, that makes two of us. But I think we both know who we’d prefer traipsing through the halls alone at night.”

Granger jutted her chin back. “Um, no, I do not think we–” and here she gestured viciously at the one metre between the two, “know anything!”

Draco cycled through responses.

I like that you’re walking through the halls without your wand out. I like that I’m walking through the halls without mine out. I like that you keep yelling at me. I like the look in your eyes when I’m able to shock you with what I say, when I tell you as much of the truth as I can stomach. I wonder what you look like when you braid your hair.

He blinked furiously and spun right back around. He increased his pace towards the Gryffindor Towers, knowing that she would follow him, and he ignored her eager berates as she did so, letting the portraits chastise her for him. He grinned widely when he caught her flipping off a particularly rude painting and tried to cover it up with a cough perhaps even worse than the ones Theo would fake at Pureblood dinners.

She grabbed him with a grunt just a few steps before the hallway leading to Gryffindor.

“Stop it,” she hissed, “Malfoy, fuh–oi!”

“What?”

“Eugenia’s gonna make a ruckus if she sees you.”

Draco huffed. “Who the fuck’s Eugenia?”

Granger rolled her eyes, her hands still twisted up in his sleeve. “The Fat Lady.”

“Ah,” Draco nodded, letting out a small laugh–of course Granger would know her actual name.

She blinked when his chest moved and yanked her hands off his arm. It fell back limply to his side, and he shifted his weight. Granger took a few hesitant steps past him, watching him over her shoulder. He turned away first, figuring she at least shouldn’t have to fear he would jinx her from behind. He sighed. She at least shouldn’t have to fear that. But he stayed right around the corner until he heard her reassure Eugenia that there was nothing there, that all was okay, that she could doze off back to sleep. Draco rested his face in his palms. Why did anyone do anything these days?

---

And yet, if there was one thing to be grateful for, it was that Draco could be a bit more awake in the mornings. Still stumbling through, yes, still forcing food down to keep his heart pumping, but there were moments, however brief, where he felt his mind click and curiosity worm its way into his skin.

Maybe Snape saw this, and wanted to reward this idiot he had chosen to protect. Draco’s nose twitched and he shifted in his seat as his professor eyed them all. Highly unlikely. Maybe he felt like proving himself, because for all his smoothness Draco felt sure there must be insecurity. Denied Defense Against the Dark Arts professor for years. Must have tortured him.

Snape held himself with the same poise he always had, though, facing the Slytherins and Gryffindors, and Draco let himself rejoice in the normalcy of the side eye he exchanged with Crabbe and then Goyle. They would wait, they had no choice, but the dramatics were a bit ridiculous.

“This year,” Snape began, and Draco leaned back, eyebrows raising, “is obviously an important one. You will not only become extremely proficient in wordless disarming, sophisticated hexes, intricate jinxes, and smooth wandwork–” here, he looked at the Weasel, “but you will receive opportunities to practice, with each other. Malfoy.”

“Yes, sir?”

“Come here.”

Draco slid back his chair and breathed out as he walked past the other students to the front of the classroom. Who in Merlin’s name knew what they were thinking about him? Did they know he was a Death Eater? Now that they were getting a chance to give him their undivided attention, were they thinking about Lucius? About how he–

“And Granger.”

Draco’s breath halted.

Snape’s face remained neutral with its classic, stoic, hint-of-a-smirk nonchalance.

But the air in the room shifted instantly. This was not Malfoy versus Potter, a classic rivalry. No, Snape chose to pair the Death Eater and the Mud–

Draco’s eyes narrowed as Granger slipped out of her seat and walked slowly to the front. Anger simmered gently in his shoulders as his breathing increased again. Granger’s entourage looked on, concerned. As they should be. Granger’s face betrayed nothing, her eyes calmer than they had been the other night. She hadn’t met his yet, and he waited for her to.

“You will demonstrate for the class,” Snape announced. “Wands at the ready.”

It was slow motion, honestly, the speed at which he removed his wand from his pocket. And it wasn’t that his brain was out of it–in fact, he was trying to figure out how on Earth he could get Granger out of this situation. This would not help solve anything. This would very clearly make the house divides worse. Would very clearly bring more opportunities for anger.

Yet, Granger’s wand pointed at him, stable in front of her, and he watched her watch his hand as it mirrored hers.

“Until–” Draco began.

“Standard Wizarding Laws,” Snape said. “And what are they?”

The class blinked back at him, and Draco tried to subtly gulp air.

“Mr. Longbottom?”

The boy jerked his head up, a faint blush settling on his nose. “Uh, yes, in a Standard Wizard’s Duel, the, er, duelers can only use magical means; no physical combat.” He cleared his throat. “Duel until yield. No Unforgivable Curses.” Granger’s eyes fluttered shut. “Both duelers must agree to the laws.”

“Correct.” Snape turned back to the two students in front of him.

They were probably five paces apart from each other, and Granger still hadn’t looked at him directly.

“You may bow and begin.”

Deep brown met grey and they held as the two bent stiffly at the waists. Granger’s gaze lacked its puzzlement from the other night–her purpose determined, the apprehensive stares of her peers creeping behind her ear and the steady one of the boy in front of her, trying to break her concentration. He wouldn’t. She had done this once before, she would again.

Hermione Stunned him the moment their torsos began to straighten–a quick spell aimed at his ankle, rivaling the one he had hit her with those weeks ago in the library.

She saw his countercurse coming and deflected it silently, whipping her wand in the air to conjure rope. She lassoed his left leg the second he began to shift his weight to his right.

She wouldn’t give the class any time to think that he could gain the upper hand. She would give them all no opportunity to think that she, and any other Muggle born, were lesser.

Malfoy grunted as the rope began to tangle around him. He looked up sharply and Hermione yelped, activating a Shield as fast as she could to block the flash of red coming her direction. The spell’s impact pushed her back a few feet, her shoes skidding on the floor.

“Let’s go, Hermione!” Ron called out.

Hermione lunged forward. She clapped thunder above Malfoy’s head, the clouds swirling thick and dark.

“Ey, Slytherin!” Pansy raised her voice. The rain started to hit Malfoy’s hair, the locks sticking together and curling faintly on his forehead.

“Gryffin-dor! Gryffin-dor!”

Malfoy’s eyes flashed underneath the lightning.

Hermione tried him with a hex and he deflected it directly back at her–she dodged out of the way and blinked as it shattered into the cabinets behind her, cymbal to the thunder’s bass. The class’s voices increased in volume. Malfoy’s next spell just missed her shoulder.

Aggravation bubbled in her veins.

“You’ve got this, Hermione!” and “take her down, Malfoy!” and “let’s go, Gryffindor!” and “Draco! Draco!”

And Malfoy’s defenses were stronger (or perhaps just existent) this time, his arms crossing over his body and his wand waving to dispel just about everything she sent at him. His robes flung water as he moved.

And Snape stood next to her in the corner, watching as a glint appeared in Malfoy’s eyes, as he lassoed the cloud and shot it in Hermione’s direction. And it was really just angry adrenaline, feeding off the class and the suaveness of Snape just to the side of them, that allowed Hermione to dissipate it into nothing–she had no idea what spell she was using, only that this fucking cloud was not meant for her and Malfoy would not turn it back towards her–

“Ah!” she gasped, hand clutching to her arm as Malfoy stung her briefly. She whipped back a series of four hexes, but Malfoy dodged them all. His eyes glinted as he built up his shield and her spells started to bounce off of it–

She needed to break through his defenses.

He could break through hers.

Hermione’s gaze darted from his shoulders to his stance, his feet, the way his arm moved when preparing a spell–

His eyes.

Hermione shot a trip towards his legs and then an Expulso directly at his chest. He deflected both easily.

She inhaled sharply, widened her eyes, and glanced right over his shoulder. She cast a disillusionment charm just as he turned his head, and then ran around to get a different angle–

Malfoy’s voice was a low growl: “Granger, dirty trick–”

And she swallowed her laugh, shot a rope from her wand, successfully knotting it around Malfoy’s thighs–

“Fuck–”

–and she huffed, either in frustration or shock, when he dissolved it without so much as tripping. His head snapped over to where she stood in her stance; he hit her with a tripping jinx before she could react. Half of the class cheered.

She caught herself abruptly on the ground, punching out a groan as her hand blurred back into visibility–her disillusionment charm faded with this lack of concentration, and she could only barely shoot an equally strong tripping jinx before she was rolling to dodge a Stun that hit the ground next to her with a few sparks.

Hermione’s retaliating trip hit Malfoy squarely, and the boy fell. The two lay on the ground, one of her hands holding her up as she leaned forward, one of his holding him up as he had fallen backwards, their wands still pointed squarely towards each other.

“Let’s go–”

She saw his spell coming before his neck had even twitched and matched him with a jinx of her own–

Both dissolved in the air and Snape waved his wand over the residual sparks. “Very well. Enough!”

The class’s cheers fell to a hush as Snape walked between the two.

“As you can see,” he drawled, “dueling is not meant to last forever.” Hermione blinked over at Malfoy, the two breathing heavily. “The duelers grow tired quickly. They must find their partner’s weakness.” Snape let the room wait, the students in front of him in their chairs, the two behind him on their arses. “Now, pair up and begin.”

Hermione exhaled as the class began to move. Harry found her eyes and she gave a short nod, heart pounding, as he and Ron retreated to the back of the classroom. A few grumbles arose from the Slytherin side and Hermione glanced over to see Malfoy pushing back on his heels and watching her as he stood. She leaned forward on her hand and rose to her feet as well, crossing her arms and gripping her wand.

She had done all she could, she had hit him a few times, it was just–

Malfoy was awake today.

And once she stood, he turned to Snape, eyes narrowing and walking forward. But the man brushed away, robes swishing with his stride, and called out to chastise some Slytherins fooling around in the corner.

Malfoy lifted his chin and took a step closer to Hermione instead. “Do you speak French?”

She raised her eyebrows. “Excuse me?”

He stepped forward again, lowered his voice. “Do you happen to speak French?”

Their space in the front of the classroom was unoccupied, but partners had begun dueling all around them.

Hermione cleared her throat. “A bit.”

Malfoy jerked his chin forward. “On est à égalité.”

“‘On–’” Hermione sputtered. The two were equally matched? “Have you forgotten how I saved you,” she stepped forwards, “from a book, only a few weeks ago?”

Malfoy rolled his eyes. “Clearly was not at my–”

Hermione scoffed. “And your best was, what, just reflecting my spells?” She shook her head.

He shrugged. “You–”

Hermione lowered her voice. “I would have continued, you insolent prick, but Snape stopped us. I had just gained the upper hand, don’t try to deny it.”

Malfoy breathed in. His nose twitched. “Et qu’est-ce qui c’était, mon défaut?”

Hermione felt her heart beat. “Your eyes. They give you away.”

He smiled, ever so slightly. “Well. All I meant, was, you’re good. Excellent.”

“I know.” And she did. And she kind of loved the snort of laughter he half let out at her response. “You’re decent, as well.”

Malfoy gave a single nod. “Well.”

Hermione raised her eyebrows.

“C'est un con.”

Malfoy, not sucking up to Snape anymore? She felt amusement brush across her lips. “Je ne suis pas en désaccord.”

He smirked and she wondered if her face mirrored his. Snape called for silence again, and they returned to their seats. He turned away first, and she watched a remnant drop of water fall from his hair onto his robes.

---

In bed that night, Hermione thought about peace. She thought about fear, and anxiety of the future, and marveled to herself that, for however long this moment lasted, sleep was close by.

She remembered Malfoy’s face, and how carefully he watched her, and how the corners of his eyes softened when he spoke quietly. She pinched her lips between her thumb and forefinger and rolled over to bury her face in her pillow. Parvati’s gentle snores rang around the room and Hermione wondered what the Slytherin dorms were like. She wondered if Malfoy showered before bed or in the morning. She wondered, just curiously, what he thought of today.

“Harry said Snape’s face was horrific throughout it all,” Ginny had mentioned over dinner. “He enjoyed it? Like, a lot?”

Hermione held her head in her hands. “Gin, I don’t even know…”

“‘Mione did a great job,” Ron informed the table, and Hermione smiled up at him.

“Thanks, Ron.”

“Just, what was the point?” Ginny frowned.

“Exactly,” Hermione waved her fork in Ginny’s direction.

“Snape’s an ass,” Harry said.

Hermione stifled a smile. “You’re not incorrect,” she said.

Harry beamed at her. “Look how far you’ve come, eh? First year, you never would’ve said anything bad about a professor!”

Hermione looked over her shoulder even as she spoke. “Well, he’s not here now, and also, that’s such a lie! I was all convinced Snape was out to get you first year, you recall?” She raised her eyebrows. “I set his robe on fire.”

Ron burst out laughing–“oh Merlin, I forgot about that!”–and Ginny’s fork clattered to her plate. “You did what?”

Harry snickered.

“Oh, have you not heard this story?”

Ginny leaned in closer. “Hermione, you set fire to a professor? To Snape?”

“To Snivellus,” Harry sighed contentedly, leaning back and crossing his arms.

Back in first year, when their concerns seemed smaller. When magic was new and boundless. When Slytherin was a rival in Quidditch first.

Hermione remembered that Malfoy had introduced himself the night of their Sorting with his last name first.

“Malfoy,” he had said to Harry Potter. “Draco Malfoy.”

His surname was the most important thing about him. His family legacy, his Slytherin pride. His gelled hair, if its perfection was anything to go off of. And she didn’t want to give him the benefit of the doubt, didn’t think that she was, and she didn’t want to be interested from a personal standpoint. But Hermione was curious, and there was something in the way he held himself these days. She couldn’t help but wonder, how would the boy introduce himself now?

[kiribaku-queen]

Secret Hero [3/10]

Pairing: Bakugou x reader

Angst, Drama, AU

Word Count: 4K

A/N: I can say I’m pretty proud of this chapter, so I hope you all enjoy it! I would love to know your thoughts and let me know if you want to be put on the tag list!

Summary:  After becoming the number 2 hero, Bakugou accomplished everything he ever wanted. He beat Deku in a few matches, even if he wasn’t the number 1 hero. He got all the fame, beat countless villains, was acknowledged by all his friends and family. But he wasn’t satisfied. He wasn’t happy. Bakugou realized that this wasn’t the life he wanted. So he left the life of a hero and decided to hide to live the rest of his life as a normal person.

[1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8] [9] [10]

It’s been a few weeks since Bakugou settled in town. He got adjusted to his new apartment and even his new job as a construction worker. He had no need to use his quirk, but he could still get a good exercise in to warm up his muscles. The real action happens late at night in the streets. Even though he gave up hero work, he decided to keep an eye on the town. There may not be many crimes but when they do happen, he was there to prevent them. This town was peaceful and safe and he was going to keep it that way.

Bakugou started bumping into you around town more often. Of course, you guys would stop and chat. A little too long, some people might say. With the help of you, he got adjusted to a new environment. You showed him your favorite restaurants, the places to shop at, both expensive and ones that have the best deals. You showed him the arcades, the theatres, the parties, the to-go places that he has to go. These were the perfect times to just hang out with each other and get to know one another.

Day by day, the more you were with him, the more you started to fall for him. It was everything about him. His looks. His smile. His laugh. The intrigued look on his face when you show him something new. Or when he’s so concentrated on small, common tasks. It’s like he’s never done them before. And the way he’s so protective over everything. If you trip, even the slightest fall, he’s ready to catch you. That brings a blush straight to your cheeks. You’ve never been treated like this by a boy before so all this is new. But you liked it a lot. Also his body, but no one has to know about that.

It’s not news to your friends that you had a crush on the new guy in town. He was literally all you talked about. Who can blame you? A heart throb at its finest. Your friends urged you to ask him out on a few dates, but you were too shy to. And even if you tried, you chickened out every time. Sure, you guys were spending an absurd amount of time together, but who says that he likes you back?

“He’s totally flirting with you!” one of your friends exclaims.

“Yeah! It can’t hurt to try! And if he says no… well. That kind of sucks.” Your other friend just shrugged their shoulder.

“Oh my god, you are not helping!” you covered your face with a pillow. You thought that having a girls night and talking about your boy problems was going to help you, but this was not what you were expecting.

“What if you get into a relationship and he’s a slob?” another one of your friends gave a what-if scenario, making everyone else scream in laughter. And you’re just sitting there, listening to their nonsense.

“Even worse! What if he’s a serial killer and you’re his next victim!”

“Now you really make me not want to be a relationship anymore,” you say, deflated. Having not been in a relationship before, the fears of what could unfold definitely were scaring. But those were all what-ifs. And pretty unlikely scenarios as well. But, there’s always that one small percent that you don’t know what you’re getting yourself into. For all you know, he could be keeping a secret from you.

“Okay, okay girls. We all know the real reason why you don’t want to ask him out,” one of your friends announces and turns to give you a look. The way you looked up at your friend was like a pouting puppy who did something wrong. All your friends turned to you. You could feel all their eyes, staring burning holes into your skin. You wanted to hide but they could hunt you down in an instant like a pack of wolves.

“I didn’t know this was an intervention,” you sigh.

“It’s your biggest insecurity since like, forever! You’ll know if he’s the one if he meets her,” they say but that just makes your heart drop. You didn’t want to think about what would happen, all the scenarios you could imagine if they did meet.

“You know what’s going to happen. Cause it always happens,” you sigh, dejected and feeling totally defeated already. Your friends felt bad for you. No matter what they did or say, they couldn’t change your mind on one thing.

“Well even if it does happen, then you’ll know he’s not the one for you. And you haven’t fallen too deep for him yet so you can just kick him on the side of the road!” you friend suggested, clapping her hands like it was such a genius idea. The rest of the group seemed to agree with her. You really didn’t want to do it, but you knew that he was going to meet her sooner or later.

“How do I even bring it up though?” you asked.

“You don’t even have to tell him! You know what, this is perfect. Invite him to lunch tomorrow to meet us. It’ll be a group thing so it’s subtle,” that also got everyone’s agreeance. Yeah, it wasn’t a bad idea at all. Maybe it was too soon?

Too late for that thought. You were already waiting for Bakugou to show up at your meeting spot. The girls texted you saying that Momo and them were already at the restaurant. Now only you and Bakugou had to show up.

“(y/n)!” you heard that familiar voice. You turned and saw Bakugou running up to you. When he caught up to you, he was breathing hard, trying to catch his breath. “Sorry I’m late. Did you wait long?” he asked and you just shook your head.

“Not long at all! Shall we go?” you ask and you lead the way.

“What made you want to introduce me to your friends?” Bakugou asked suddenly. It was so sudden that you were scrambling to find an excuse.

“Uhm, they just heard so much about you and they really wanted to meet you-”

“Oh, so you talk about me, huh?” he decided to tease you. And it really got to you because your face got so hot, anyone could see that someone was wrong.

“No, it’s not like that!” you tried denying. Your reactions get him every time. Bakugou bursts out laughing and he ruffles your hair.

“I’m just kidding. Should we go in now?” he asks. In no time, you guys were in front of the restaurant. Wow, time passed by so fast. Your heart was thumping in your heart. It was time to face the real challenge: introducing him to your cousin.

You both entered the restaurant and you were flooded with greetings and hugs. Each friend came up to you to hug you and introduce themselves to the handsome man you brought. Bakugou was a gentleman, but you never knew how much of a gentleman was. And he wasn’t as awkward as you thought he was going to be. As he introduces himself to each friend, he doesn’t shake their hand or go in for a hug like most people. Instead, he takes each friend’s hand and lands a chaste kiss on their hand. That made all the women go wild. He knew what he was doing. But by the time it go to Momo, you watched their interaction closely.

“I’m Momo,” she introduces herself, sticking out her hand for him to take. He takes it without a hesitation and places a soft kiss to the back of her hand.

“Bakugou,” he introduces himself, eye contact never breaking until they both sit down. Despite him doing the same thing to each person there, something about their interaction didn’t sit well with you. Your eyes glanced at your cousin, and there it was. She had the look in her eyes. The look. She had her eyes on him. You lost.

Lunch was horrendous. After that whole introduction fiasco, you completely lost your appetite. Your mood was down. You honestly just wanted to go home. Momo wouldn’t take her eyes off of Bakugou. And from the corner of your eye, you could see him glancing back at her. But it was never for too long. You felt dejected but tried your best not to show it. The whole table was laughing and was having a good time. If you brought the mood down, you could cry of embarrassment. That was the one scenario you didn’t want to happen, so you fake it until you make it.

Momo and Bakugou look like they’re having a good time. Laughter was being exchange and she was definitely flirting. You couldn’t tell if he was flirting back or just being nice. You turned to the other side of the table where your friends were, but they were too busy in their own conversation to notice what you were witnessing. You looked to the floor, food barely touched. Is this the end? Will you ever find love at this point? Should you move? Rebel against your parents more? Your thoughts were interrupted by a small nudge. Looking to the side, Bakugou was looking at you, concerned.

“You okay?” he asks. Your heart aches. You’re fully convinced that he’s asking out of courtesy because you guys are friends and not because he likes you. You give him a weak smile and a nod, but nothing else. Bakugou frowns at your response but doesn’t press further.

“Ready to go?” your friend announces. Everyone seemed to finish their food and the bill was already paid for. You didn’t realize you spaced out that much. Your group headed out the restaurant, huddled outside and exchanged their goodbyes.

“Was it a no?” your friends asks you as she pulls you in for a goodbye hug. With deep regret, you nod your head and your friend juts out her lower lip. “I’m sorry.” You shake your head. What did she have to say sorry for? This was your problem. And you got your hope up too high.

“I’ll see you later?” you ask and she nods her head. You look at everyone else, briefly glancing at Bakugou and Momo’s direction.

“Bye guys!” you wave and continue on your way. You shove your hands deep in your pockets, still looking down at the ground. Time for deep thoughts and feeling bad about yourself. Something you got strangely good at.

“Wait,” someone stopped you, grabbing your elbow and turning you around. Bakugou? He didn’t look too happy. “Let me walk you home.” He offers. You frown and turn to the rest of the group. Momo was already walking away so you couldn’t see her face. Why was he here instead of over there?

“But-” you tried to refuse but he cut you off.

“Please.” He says firmly. With that, you could not not say no.

The way back to your apartment was filled with silence and not like the usual conversation driven atmosphere. You knew Bakugou wanted to say something but you were going to wait until he spoke up. You arrived at the foot of your apartment and he has yet to say anything. Awkward.

“Thanks for walking me home!” you turn to him with the brightest and fakest smile you could muster. Please fall for it, you think to yourself.

“What’s wrong?” he avoids your comment to ask.

“What do you mean?” you ask back, acting confused.

“You didn’t talk at all. You barely touched your food. You were fine earlier. Did something happen?” he asked, concern written all over his face.

“I…” you started. You couldn’t tell him the truth. “I just get into moods. Sorry you had to see that.” you say on the spot.

“Let’s fix that then.” He offers. But you had no idea what he was talking about. Before you could ask, Bakugou took your hand in his and led you up to your apartment. You spent the whole rest of the day letting him cheer you up. He distracted you by watching your favorite TV shows, baking brownies, talking. And soon, you guys were eating Chinese takeout and drinking wine. Usually, it takes a lot for you to get out of this mood. But with him, he made it so easy. You were smiling and acting like yourself in no time.

It was a fun time. Just drinking the night away and talking your asses off. Anything and everything. Time must have slipped past you because it was already so late out, but you were soooo tipsy, to say the least. Bakugou looked fine. Jealous. You didn’t like being a lightweight because a few glasses could make you pass out and the fun is over. You didn’t want the fun to be over. You wanted to be with him.

You guys were joking around, having yet another glass of wine, when Bakugou took your phone out of your hands to look through your camera roll.

“What do we have here?” he teased, seeing the selfies you took recently.

“Give it back!” you demanded. But Bakugou completely ignored you and kept scrolling through your hundreds of pictures.

“Bakugou Katsuki!” you whined, reaching for your phone. He was quick to extend his hand so that your phone was out of your reach. His arm was so long and yours was so short, it was impossible to retrieved your phone unless you reached across him. Being the drunk ass you were, you did just that. Your hand rested nicely on top of his chest as you reached over to grab your phone.  But because you were so drunk, you slipped and fell deeper into his arms. He caught you, wrapped his muscular arms around your waist. Your faces were just inches apart, both of you staring into each other’s eyes. His eyes then look down towards the lower end of your face and back up to your eyes. You caught that. What does that mean? Does that mean what you think it means? Was he going to kiss you? Your mind was telling you to push him away because you didn’t want to assume. But god was your body telling you something different. Your eyes also started traveling lower, the hand that was on his chest tugged on his shirt. He was leaning in closer and closer. His arms that were around your waist got tighter and brought your body closer to his until it was completely flushed. He tilted his head, his breath just barely tickling your lips. His lips were so close, but he didn’t connect them just yet. He was teasing you. You could hear your heart beating in your ears. You felt like you were going crazy. Oh, how much you wanted to take control, grab his face and smash your lips together in a hungry kiss. But you stopped yourself. If Bakugou wanted to kiss you, he would do it. You weren’t going to ruin your first kiss just because of your lust for him.

Bakugou teased you to no end. The way your eyes were fluttering with lust and how your lips were parted just for him, waiting to be kissed by him was riling him up. He smirked. You had enough teasing for tonight. With a quick movement of his neck, he reached up steal a light, passionate kiss.

His lips were soft. His aroma filled your senses. Your head was filled with him. This. Was the perfect first kiss. It was sweet. It was passionate. It was emotional. It was everything you dreamed of and more. Your lips disconnected but Bakugou wasn’t done. And neither were you. You kissed again and again and again. Your hands reached the back of his neck while his stayed on your waist and lower back. Before things could get anymore heated, a blaring ringtone interrupted you guys. Your lips parted for the final time and you started coming back to your senses. It took you both to realize whose phone was ringing. It was Bakugou’s. You got off him to allow him to fetch his phone.

“Hello?” he answered the phone, but went right back to your previous position, one arm laced around your waist, holding you close to him. This caused your face to heat up immensely. You looked up at Bakugou, his face now frowning. You couldn’t tell what they were talking about but you had a feeling that this night was coming to an end.

“Yeah. Yeah. Yeah, no it’s fine. I’ll be there soon,” he says and hangs up the phone. “It’s my boss. He wants me to fill in a night shift position.” he tells you. You pout a bit but nod your head. It was work. Can’t do anything about that. You both get up and you escort him to your front door. You were a bit disappointed that the atmosphere got ruined but that’s just how life is. When something really good happens, it’s always taken away. He opens the door but before he leaves, he turns to you and gives you apologetic eyes.

“Sorry, I’ll see you later?” he asks. You give him a weak smile and nod. Bakugou could sense your disappointment. And he was going to make it up to you. He grabs you by the waist, pulling you in and catching you off guard. Your hand, again, rests of his chest. He leans in and right when you think he’s about to kiss you again, he smirks. Instead, he leans in close enough until your forehead and noses are touching. Then, he lets go and is on his way. You were left feeling flustered. Slowly, you close to the door. As soon as you heard the door click shut, you screamed into your hands.

“Holy shit, was that real?” you asked yourself. You pinched your cheeks. Yep, that hurt. That all felt like a dream. Where you hallucinating? Did you imagine everything because of how much you drank that night? It all happened so fast and so sudden. It felt surreal. Oh god. What were you two now? What did that kiss mean?

Emotion after emotion, question after question! You were feeling and thinking about so many things at once. You needed to calm down and just ask him in the morning.

 Because Bakugou took on another shift, he slept the whole morning, well into the afternoon. But then you got busy so you couldn’t see him for a few days. That gave you plenty of time to think about what happened and plan out what you were going to say to him. You even discussed it with your girls. Man, when you told them what exactly happened, they were screaming and cheering for you. They were so ecstatic that not only did you get your first kiss but it was steamy session!

“He’s totally into you.”

“If you don’t date soon, I’m gonna be so mad.”

“Give me more details!”

Your friends were bombarding you with so many things, you couldn’t keep up! There’s no doubt in your mind now that he has feelings for you. Why else would he kiss you, especially like that? It made your heart race every time you thought about it. Was he going to be your first boyfriend? Finally? And then your mom can back off with the threat of sudden engagements.

It took a while, but both you and Bakugou made time to meet up. You were waiting anxiously for him. You’ve never been in this situation before so you didn’t know how to act. Should you act all flirty and cuddly because you guys kissed? Or should you act normal, like nothing happened? But what if he gets the wrong idea? You were too into your thoughts to see that Bakugou had already arrived. You only noticed when he laid a hand on top of your head.

“Welcome back,” he says as you snap of your daydream. Embarrassing. You both walked into the small coffee shop. The same one you both went to the second time you met each other. You waited at the table while Bakugou brought the coffees.

Gosh, you were so nervous. Do you talk about other things before brining it up? But you were so desperate to know. Fuck it.

“So, about the other night,” you started and that got Bakugou’s attention right away. He rubbed the back of his neck with a shy smile.

“Yeah, about that. I’m sorry,” he apologized. Huh, sorry? “That whole thing was an accident. We were both drunk and it was all in the moment. I’m never usually like that. I’m sorry if it made you uncomfortable.” You heard your heart break. But you had to let him know that it didn’t make you uncomfortable! Maybe then, he’ll change his mind.

“What if I told you if I liked it?” you looked at him with pleading eyes.

“I’m actually not looking for a relationship right now,” he said. In truth, he wasn’t. He thought you were petty and interesting and he’s never had so much fun being with someone before. But the thought of being in a relationship… it scared him. Plus, he’s never been in a relationship before. “But I hope we can keep being good friends like before.” Rejected. You were devasted. You felt embarrassed that you had your hopes high. You didn’t want to believe that your dreams were going to be shattered like always. You thought he was going to be different. He just played you.

“Yeah,” you say weakly. It barely came out. Before you realized, your eyes were brimming with tears and threatening to spill. Who cares if he sees, you couldn’t hold them in any longer. You just had to get out of there. “I forgot I had plans. I have to go.” You say and get up. And then there they go. A tear slipped out. That didn’t slip past Bakugou because he was studying your face the moment he sat down.

“(y/n),” he stood up, panicking. He tried to reach out to you but you stopped him.

“Don’t. I’ll see you later,” you say and dismissed yourself without giving him another glance. Bakugou was left in the coffee shop, feeling like the biggest jerk.

You cried for days. You’ve been rejected before but for some reason, this rejection hurt the most. Your girls comforted you, of course. But there was nothing much they could do. You had to get over him yourself. It hurt. A lot. But you wanted to respect his decision so bad. If he wasn’t ready for a relationship then he wasn’t ready. But you also didn’t want to feel like you were being played.  If he wasn’t ready then why did he kiss you?

It’s been weeks since you’ve seen him. You couldn’t bring yourself to see him. Just the mere thought of seeing him and then being reminded of your rejection just hurt so much. He tried reaching out to you a few times, but when he noticed that you weren’t responding to him, he stopped. That hurt you too. What did you expect though? You weren’t over him and you couldn’t fake it. So you ignored him. But you were disappointed that he didn’t continue to reach out despite you ignoring him. It happens in the movies all the time. A girl can only dream.

You’re friends urged you to get some fresh air and get out of the house. They swore it was going to make you feel better than being coped up in the apartment. So you did. Shopping always cheered you up. See something you liked or wanted, boom. Bought. If it cheers you up in the moment, then why not? You were walking out of a small boutique store when you saw Bakugou on the side of the road. He was on the other side of the street, waiting in front of a nice, black car. Shit, what was he doing here? Your walk slowed down and turned into a halt. A woman walked out of the store that was behind him. He turned around and the woman linked arms with him. Then he opened the car door for her and they both got in. You recognized that hair. That face. That style.

Bakugou was with Momo.

A/N: Let the drama begin! I’d love to know your thoughts and let me know if you want to be added to the tag list!

Tagged: @superblyspeedydragon @simpforeveryone @bakasbitch18

[aggressive-positivity-network]

Do you accept requests for Merasmus? If you do, can I get some fluffy domestic Merasmus headcanons? If you don't take requests for him that's okay too❤️❤️

Of course I do! Merasmus is one of my favorite characters! Let’s see...domestic...

Buying the cottage:

Merasmus is prone to depression, especially during times of meticulous, unchanging routine.

So, of course, he looks to get away for a while.

He finds a beautiful villa, but it’s suddenly closed for repairs the day before he leaves.

Not wanting waste his vacation, he decides to just pick a random cottage near the same town.

He arrives, and, unsurprisingly, finds it a mess - cobwebs, dust, and several rat traps that still have decaying bodies of mice.

Merasmus decides that this simply won’t do.

He puts down his suitcase on the table - the least dirty surface - and begins writing a shopping list with his owl feather quill (owl for business, bluebird for personal, cardinal for love and poems)

He sends his shopping list and a few gold coins to the nearest shop via hawk.

The hawk is soon back with the supplies, as well as a wide-eyed, silver-haired young man.

“I’m sorry, sir, I just had to see this for myself! I needed to know the face to this beautiful bird!”

Merasmus is taken aback, but still keeps his manners.

“Well, you have seen it. Merasmus hopes you are not too disappointed.”

“Oh no, of course not! In fact, I’m even more intrigued.”

The man’s name ends up being Flint, and he’s the grocer of the village.

He says if Merasmus needs anything, to send the hawk with a list.

Merasmus just brushes him off and keeps cleaning

Renovations:

Merasmus notices that there’s more wrong than just dust - a lot of utilities are broken, the wood is decaying, and half of the windows are broken.

Luckily, when you have magic, you can simply will tools to do what you need.

After getting some supplies - and a good luck note from Flint - Merasmus begins renovation.

He repairs the windows, which are the easiest, and then starts on the bedroom. Imagine a dungeon, but cozier.

Now, the thing about magic is that even if you’re not physically lifting a finger, it takes a lot of energy.

Merasmus keeps the tools working for about a week, all day and all night. He figures that a simple animation spell won’t do much harm if left working.

By the time next Monday rolls around, the house is refurbished and the spell is retracted, but Merasmus can barely get out of bed. His sleep is not restful, and every movement is a Herculean task.

However, Merasmus is not one for what he calls “laziness.” He still needs to paint the outside of the house.

He tried to animate a few paint brushes, but ends up passing out from exhaustion.

Merasmus wakes up in his own bed and with Flint in the doorway.

“It seems you bit off a little more than you could chew.”

Merasmus gets up, feeling a little better since he actually slept.

“How did you...where...?”

“Your hawk flew to my shop without a list and wouldn’t stop squawking until I followed them. I could scarcely believe it was the same house, you’ve done so much...no wonder you’re tired!”

Flint offered his services, and Merasmus wasn’t in a position to refuse. The shopkeeper ended up painting his entire house in the span of a few days.

When Merasmus felt better, he offered to pay Flint for his services, but he refused.

“Call it a friend doing a friend a favor!”

The garden:

Once the house was completed, Merasmus felt a little empty.

He didn’t feel like being stared at, so he mostly just walked around the house, making sure everything was in check.

One day, a packet of seeds came through his mail slot.

It had a note from Flint attached to it.

“I have heard that the more you tend to your plants, the more you tend to your soul. That may or may not be true, but I know one thing: your soul needs some tending to. Why don’t you give it a try?”

Merasmus lasted about a day being stubborn. However, his boredom was much stronger than his pride.

He planted the seeds in his backyard, though he wasn’t exactly sure what they grew.

Within minutes, they began to poke out of the soil.

Just around then, Flint came by.

“Ah, aren’t they beautiful? Even when they haven’t any blooms, they just...glisten, don’t they?”

Merasmus was a bit surprised.

“They’re growing rather fast.”

“Oh, it’s just all the good, nutritious soil they’re in! Put any seed in some good soil and they’ll be off to the races.”

Somehow, Merasmus wasn’t convinced.

The plants continued to grow until, one morning, they bloomed into beautiful rainbow flowers. They shimmered in the light, making little rainbows in the air as the morning dew fell off of them.

Even as he just stood there looking at them, Merasmus felt his heart swell.

Flint swung by yet again, as if on cue.

“Aren’t they gorgeous? Oh, they’ve been my favorite flowers ever since I was a kid. My mother proposed to my father with one of those flowers.”

Merasmus couldn’t help but agree on their stunning beauty.

He now waters them every day with a green watering can. When he was recovering from his exhaustion, it gave him something to look forward to every day.

The reveal:

Merasmus was trying to bake his own bread when he heard his door slam.

He peeked around the corner to see Flint absolutely fuming - cursing, stomping his feet, yelling at an imaginary foe.

Merasmus was shocked...but not because of Flint’s change in humor.

A small, thick storm cloud - a literal cloud - hung over Flint’s head, crackling with small bouts of lightning.

Flint turned around suddenly, almost bumping right into Merasmus. He cried out, sputtering for an explanation.

“Oh...I...was so angry I thought...I had walked into my house. Deepest apologies, Mu.”

Merasmus blinked, then started to laugh. Flint’s cloud began to form again with new vigor before he bit it back.

“And what exactly is so funny?!”

“Merasmus should have known! Silver hair, odd plants, glowing features...you’re a wizard as well!”

“‘As well?’ You mean...”

“Merasmus doesn’t wear a skull on his head for decoration!”

Flint seems both relieved and embarrassed.

He explained that his father had died a few years ago, and his mother’s health was declining - his mother was a Storm-Sweller, and they live considerably shorter lives than wizards - so he moved here and started a shop.

When his mother died, he didn’t have it in him to leave.

The reason he was so angry was because it was Mother’s Day a few days ago, and someone had let their child trample and break everything on his mother’s ofrenda (a Spanish/Mexican shrine or offering to those that have passed; it is usually only made during Dia De Los Muertos, but wizards of Spanish descent tend to set them up more frequently due to how much they value and how many connections they have with the spirit world).

Flint tried to get him to stop, but the mother got in his face and said that the whole thing was a tripping hazard anyway, and that her little boy was doing him a favor.

He had to bite his tongue, but anger was rumbling within him for the rest of the day.

When he could finally release all his fury, he hadn’t realized he was in Merasmus’s house.

Merasmus brushed off Flint’s apology and said he had every right to feel angry.

“If Merasmus was there, he would have cursed them to eternal damnation!”

Merasmus offered a piece of lumpy dough, which Flint gratefully pounded and squeezed until his storm cloud subsided.

“Would you like me to show you how to actually make bread?”

“Please.”

A stronger bond:

Merasmus and Flint became best friends over the following weeks.

Flint taught Merasmus how to garden, cook, and do other pleasant activities, and Merasmus gave the wizarding experience the man never had.

Merasmus became more and more cheerful, and did not think of his vacation time drawing short.

But, finally, it was time to leave.

Every time Merasmus tried to pack, it was all he could do to not burst into tears.

Finally, he made up his mind.

“Flint. Before Merasmus came here, he was miserable. His life was only filled with boring, soul-sucking tasks. Merasmus’s house reflects that. He cannot return there without my heart breaking. But there is so much to be found here...more than Merasmus could find in any magical realm. Merasmus must, for his health, stay here.”

Merasmus still lives there to this day, but occasionally goes on business excursions to find lost relics. Once Flint learns enough spells, he will accompany him.

Ooooh, I want this to be a common thing. That’s my problem - I make characters that are meant fit one story and I like them so much I want to keep them.

[hyuniepot]

the butterfly effect. || chapter 6

chapter word count || 5,372

genre || thriller, angst, drama

members || mark lee, na jaemin, lee jeno, huang renjun, lee donghyuck, zhong chenle, park jisung

warnings || mentions of death, implications of depression

pairing || fem!reader x jaemin || slight fem!reader x mark

synopsis || you never thought you’d be able to play with fate so easily, especially not through some shady app. but you suddenly must say goodbye to what you know and hello to a new world where everything seems perfect.

taglist || @gothboyjisung​ @jeongyoonohs @doiewonu @huanginjoon​ @wordsgodeep @colpen

previous chapter

You woke up way later than usual. You were still in the clothes you wore yesterday. You immediately got up and showered, changing into a new pair of clothes.

You woke up way later than usual. You were still in the clothes you wore yesterday. You immediately got up and showered, changing into a new pair of clothes.

You woke up way later than usual. You were still in the clothes you wore yesterday. You immediately got up and showered, changing into a new pair of clothes.

When you were done, you checked your phone.

Mark

hey, when do u wanna hang out?

you can come over here if u want.

or whatever. its fine

oh, you probably aren’t awake yet….

lol. let me know when ur awake.

You smile.

You

hey im awake now

i can come over to ur place, is any time fine?

i just gotta get ready and stuff

You set your phone down and look at yourself in the mirror, continuing to dry your hair. You know you still had to make your final decision on whether you were going to leave or not. Your mind couldn’t make a decision. There were pros and cons to doing both.

If you were to go back, you’d return to a life with no Mark and a Jisung who isn’t happy. But you’d have Hyuck. You’d have Jaemin, and Jeno and Renjun. You’d have your old friends back. You could use what you learned here to fix your life.

But Mark. He was the only thing stopping you. You wanted to take him along with you but you knew it was impossible. You just couldn’t imagine leaving him again when you had spent so long yearning for him to be back.

You jump at the sound of your phone dinging.

Mark

yea, come on over. i’ll be here all day hahah

You

got it. i’ll be there soon

You then clicked on Hyuck’s name to text him.

You

i know this is annoying but please give me the time i need. i’ll let you know tonight what my decision is.

You turned your phone off, grabbing your camera and putting it in your new bag. Jisung was in his room so you gently knock and wait for a response.

Jisung opens the door. “Hey.”

“Hey,” you respond. “I’m gonna go to Mark’s today, are you gonna be okay here alone?”

Your mother’s workload had definitely decreased, but she still worked long hours. You only got to see her in the mornings before school.

Jisung nods. “Yep, that’s fine.”

“Okay.” you exhale. “I’ll see you later, then.”

He nods, and you turn away and head downstairs. You make your way outside and start your journey to Mark’s house. Luckily, you had gone there once since you showed up, so you knew your way.

Everything was still so familiar. Of course it was; this was the town you grew up in after all. And that’s why it was so hard to differentiate from your old life sometimes. Everything still felt right at times.

You were glad Mark didn’t live too far away. You spotted him outside, sitting on one of the concrete stairs that lead to the porch. His face lights up when he spots you, getting up and making his way to you.

“What’s up?” he smiles.

“Nothing,” you reply. “What’s the plan for today?” you both continue making your way to his house.

“I don’t have anything planned, really…” he says, scratching his head. “We just chill for a bit and then figure out something if you want.”

You nod, going up the stairs to his porch. He opens the door, letting you in. You follow him up to his room, suddenly feeling nervous. You hadn’t been alone with Mark like this. You barely even knew how to be around him without feeling awestruck.

He opens the door to his room and it hits you. It was so perfectly… him. It was just what you expected, what you always imagined it would look like. An acoustic guitar stood in the corner of his room, bed haphazardly made. A record player was set up on the left side, the records he owned displayed on a nearby shelf. Posters of all different subjects were taped on the wall, some personal photos mixed in. You spotted one of you and Mark as children, one of the photos you always looked at when you missed him.

It hurt to look at everything. But you had to force your emotions aside.

“Yeah, had to switch up the old room,” he says, putting his hands in his pockets. “I think this looks way cooler.”

You nod. “It looks great.” your voice is barely audible. You couldn’t take your eyes off the photos on the wall.

“Oh,” Mark notices you staring at the wall. He walks to where his bed is, squatting down and pulling a book out from under it. “I found a whole photo album of old photos.” he says. He motions you to come sit down next to him, and you oblige.

He opens it. The first few pages were photos of him as a baby, but it quickly changed to photos of him as a kid. It didn’t take long for you to appear. You had seen them all before, but it was still nice to look at them. There were even pictures from your trip to the butterfly enclosure, an unsure look plastered across your face. Mark was beaming.

“Do you remember this?” Mark puts his finger on an old photo of you and him at a fair — huge grins on both of your faces. He laughs. “We rode a ride and I swore I was gonna get sick after it. You were so freaked out by it that you avoided me until I convinced you I felt better.”

You laugh. You did remember it. You remembered running away from him and staying at least 10 feet away until you finally gave in.

He turns a few pages. It was time to look at photos that you had never seen, stories that you had never heard, the things that could have been. You just tried to keep your breathing steady.

There’s a picture of you and him together in somewhat formal clothing — probably your first highschool dance. Hyuck and another boy you didn’t recognize stood behind you, giving both you and Mark bunny ears.

“You remember Johnny, right?”

That must have been the other boy. You just nodded. Of course, you had no idea who he was.

“He moved here when we were like 12, right?” he looks at the photo. “I miss him. I don’t get to talk to him a lot because he travels so he’s always in a different timezone but… when I do, it’s like he never left.” he adds.

You wrack your brain — did you ever know anyone named Johnny? You were sure you didn’t. He didn’t exist in your old life. But he had somehow been a part of your life in this universe at some point. He was visibly older — not by too much, but he was definitely more mature. It didn’t help that Mark had a baby face. He had brown, medium length hair that was kind of shaggy. He seemed charming. But since there was no sign of him in your phone, you assumed you didn’t keep in touch with him.

Mark flips the pages a few more times. There’s a picture of you, Mark, and Hyuck on what seemed to be your last halloween together. You couldn’t exactly pinpoint when, but you were probably 14 or 15. You were dressed up as Belle from Beauty and the Beast. Hyuck was dressed as the beast and Mark was dressed as Lumière, the candlestick.

You look at the girl in those photos. You wished you had her brain; You wished you remembered everything the way she did. Looking at yourself in the photos didn’t feel right. No matter what you did, you couldn’t convince yourself that it was you. Because technically, it wasn’t. Where was that girl now? Was she living your old life? Spending her days with Jaemin, desperately wishing for Mark?

“Are you okay?” you snap back to reality at the sound of Mark’s voice. He had closed the book and was looking at you with a concerned look on his face.

You let out an awkward chuckle. “Oh… yeah. I’m fine… I just kinda zoned out.”

“Yeah… you’ve been doing that a lot lately…” Mark stands up and slides the book back under his bed. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

You don’t want to reply. Your eyes start burning with tears.

“Yeah,” you reply softly.

“That’s why I wanted to hang out with you today. You’ve seemed so… off lately… No offense,” Mark sits back down and looks at you. “I don’t mean that in a mean way, I just mean… it seems like something is bothering you and… are you crying?”

Tears finally escape your eyes, cascading down your cheeks. You stay silent as Mark wraps his arms around you, tightly hugging you.

“Oh god, oh no… I didn’t mean to make you cry. I’m sorry.” Mark says.

You can’t help but smile as you cry into his chest. “No… it’s not your fault…”

He pulls away from the hug. “Is something actually wrong? You know you can talk to me… I heard bottling up your emotions isn’t healthy…”

You take your time collecting yourself to try and think of an excuse. Obviously you couldn’t tell him the real reason why you seemed so out of it -- oh yeah, Mark, I’m from a universe where you died and I ended up here because I used some app to wish for you back and I have literally no idea what’s going on half the time.

“I’m just stressed,” you tell him. “I’ve never been this stressed so I don’t really know how to deal with it.”

“Ah…” Mark nods. “I get it… I mean, we’re in our last year of school. Everyone’s gonna expect us to act like adults soon. It’s… scary.”

You nod, wiping your tears. I wish that was what I was stressed about.

And that’s when it clicks. You realize you don’t belong here. You were destined to live in a world without Mark. But that thought only makes you start crying again.

Mark hugs you again. “It’s okay,” he whispers. “Just let it out, okay?”

So you do. You let everything out. Your shoulders shake as you sob. To anyone, it would seem like you’re overreacting. Sobbing in your best friend’s arms because you’re stressed. But this was the one thing you felt like could make you feel better.

For years, you laid in your bed alone, sobbing because you missed Mark. Because you felt guilty. And if you weren’t crying over him, you wished he was there to comfort you. And now it finally happened, and you were gonna relish the moment. This was all you ever wanted.

You feel guilty — Mark just wanted to hang out and here you were, making him comfort you as you cried for God knows what.

You force yourself to stop crying. Mark lets you go and levels himself with you, wiping your face with his thumb. “Why didn’t you tell me?” he asks. “We’re best friends… you can tell me anything, y’know?”

You nod. “I know… I just… didn’t want to bother anyone.”

Mark furrows his brows. “Hey come on, don’t say that. You wouldn’t be bothering anyone. Don’t think like that.”

You hiccup. You could feel that your face was puffy from crying.

“Okay,” Mark stands up. “I think this calls for some relaxation, right? I’m gonna get a bunch of blankets and we’re just gonna lounge.” He grabs a spare blanket and wraps it around your shoulders, helping you stand up. He leads you to his basement. There was a large couch and a TV. You sit down.

“Do you wanna watch a movie?” he asks.

You nod. “Yeah, that’s fine.”

Mark turns the TV on. “Okay. I’ll find something for us to watch. Get comfortable, okay?”

You scoot around for a bit before finding a comfortable spot. The crying you did made your eyelids heavy.

Mark joins you on the couch, clicking through the TV guide, searching for something to watch. He clicks on a movie before opening his arms. “Come here.”

Maybe it wasn’t right, but you let him hold you. You listen to his heartbeat, trying to keep yourself awake until you couldn’t fight it anymore.

[4:27 p.m.]

Your eyes flutter open. You glance around, taking in your surroundings and remembering you were in Mark’s basement. You realize you were still in his arms. You quickly sit up, making Mark jolt awake.

“Oh shit,” he says, sitting up and rubbing his eyes. “Did we both fall asleep?” he chuckles.

You smile. “Yeah… looks like it.” You stretch your muscles. “Did you get to watch any of movie?”

“Nope.” Mark replies. “I think I fell asleep right after I realized you had,” he says softly.

You groan. “What time is it? We didn’t sleep through the day, did we?” you ask, suddenly nervous.

Mark pulls out his phone to check the time. He shakes his head. “Nope. Only about two and a half hours.”

You sigh in relief. It was still a long time, but at least it was still daytime. “Oh, good.”

“Do you wanna go get some food? We should probably get up so we don’t fall asleep again,�� he laughs.

You smile. “Good idea.”

You both make your way upstairs and you retrieve your bag from Mark’s room before leaving the house. The weather, like yesterday, was nice. A light breeze blew, but it wasn’t cold thanks to the sun. You could hear children playing in a yard nearby. You and Mark made your way to a restaurant nearby. It was one that you didn’t recognize. It was a bit retro-themed and was decorated like a classic diner.

You and Mark sit down at a booth, looking at the menu. “We haven’t been to this place in forever… they got a bunch of new menu items.” Mark mumbles.

You look at the menu. It had all kinds of different types of burgers, but most importantly, milkshakes.

Mark gasped. “They got rid of the cookies ‘n cream milkshake? Are you kidding me?” he whines.

You laugh. “Really? That has to be a popular flavor.”

“Right? It’s so good too, I order it everytime. So why would they — oh, nevermind… they just rebranded it…” Mark says softly, hiding his face with the menu.

Your eyes find their way to the milkshakes; they had simply changed the name of the milkshake from Cookies ‘N Cream to Oreo. You giggle. “Dork.”

“Hey, come on! I was panicked, alright?” Mark laughs.

A waitress swings by and takes your orders — you just order a classic burger and fries with a milkshake with your favorite ice cream flavor.

You feel your phone buzz in your pocket. You pull it out to see who’s calling. It’s Hyuck. “Um,” you swallow hard. “I’m gonna go wash my hands real quick.” you tell Mark.

He nods. “Alright.”

You get up from the booth and quickly walk to the bathroom. You close the door behind you, praying that it was empty. “Hello?”

“God, took you long enough.” Hyuck mutters.

“Why’d you call?” you sigh.

“Because I think we need to actually talk about this… I mean, if you decide to leave, I need to be able to tell you when to send the message.” he replies.

You roll your eyes. “I told you I would let you know later. I’m with Mark right now.”

“Are you serious?”

You pause. It’s deathly quiet. You can feel Hyuck’s anger through the phone. “He wanted to hang out, he asked me last night when he dropped me off… did you really think I’d say no?”

“You should’ve,” he sighs. “You know you’re only making it harder on yourself.”

You knew he was right. “I just… wanted to make some final memories before possibly leaving,” you tell him.

“I… understand.” Hyuck adds quietly. You hear him sigh. “You know this is hard on me too, right? I’m sorry I keep being so pushy but… I just wanna get out of here.”

It’s silent again. For the first time, you realize you never even thought about how Hyuck felt. You knew he missed Mark just as much as you did.

“That’s why I’ve been kinda distancing myself from him. Because the first day we were here, it was hell. All I could think about was that day… it’s all I can think about.” he says. You can barely hear him.

“Hyuck…” you whisper.

“Being here… with him… it’s too much for me to handle. You don’t think I feel the same way? I know this is a universe where we could both be happy with Mark, but something keeps telling me I can’t stay here. Too much has changed. I can’t be comfortable here.” Hyuck’s voice starts trembling. “Which is why I refused to spend any time with Mark. Because he’s the only reason I want to stay. But I miss my old life. I miss my friends. I don’t know what the hell went wrong here, but my life is just so much shittier here. Everything that could’ve gone wrong feels like it went wrong.” he rants.

You feel so much guilt for not taking the time to think about why he’d want to leave. You spent so much time thinking about yourself and Mark because you knew you’d always have Hyuck.

“Not even Mark makes staying worth it.” he spits. You can’t tell if he’s angry or sad; it’s probably both. “We were so stupid for coming here,” he finally chuckles, although you can tell it isn’t from happiness. “We were so fucking stupid.”

“I know,” you reply softly.

“I’m sorry. Call me later, okay?”

He hangs up before you can say anything. You slowly put your phone down and shove it back into your pocket. You want to cry, but you’ve already spent too much time in here. You rush out of the bathroom, and instantly run into someone.

“I’m sorry,” you say, looking up at the person. Your heart almost stops.

“No worries,” Jaemin says, flashing you a polite smile.

Your heart starts pounding. You try to tell yourself to stop staring at him, but this was the first time you’ve seen him since coming here. He doesn’t look too different — hair is darker now but everything is the same. The same eyes you fell in love with. The smile that gave you butterflies in your stomach. He’s dressed in normal clothes, so that meant he was probably eating here alongside you and Mark.

You want to lunge towards him, hugging him so tightly he could never leave you again. But you finally just nodded and forced your legs to walk past him; they had started trembling and you weren’t sure how much longer you could stand there. You were glad Mark’s back was to you. You sat back down at your seat, your hands now trembling

“Everything okay?” Mark asks.

You nod. You clear your throat. “Yeah… uh, sorry I took so long. My mom called while I was in there.”

“Oh, okay.” Mark takes a sip of his milkshake that had been set on the table while you were gone. “You’re not in trouble or anything, right?” he asks, eyes widening.

You smile. “No.”

“Okay, good! I wouldn’t want you to get in trouble for hanging out with me or something…” Mark says.

You stir your milkshake with your straw. You weren’t feeling very hungry anymore, but after the first sip, it was too delicious to stop.

“(y/n)!” you hear a voice calling your name. You turn your head towards the direction it’s coming from.

Naeun walks to your table. “I didn’t even see you here! What’s up?” she smiles.

“Oh… nothing.” you reply, forcing a smile in return. “Me and Mark are just hanging out and we were hungry, so here we are.” you tell her.

“Of course. Partners in crime. Hi, Mark.” Naeun responds. “Jaemin brought me here. Can you believe I’ve never been here before? This place has been up for years and I’ve never had the chance.” she pouts.

“Really?” Mark speaks up. “You gotta try their milkshakes, they’re delicious.” he tells her.

Naeun chuckles. “Will do. What flavor did you get? It looks good.” she asks.

“Oh! Cookies ‘n cream. It’s my favorite.” he replies, smiling.

“That’s a good flavor.” You hear Jaemin before you see him. Why is he talking about ice cream? He can’t even eat dairy. You think.

“How would you know?” Naeun teases, as if she was a mind reader. “You can’t have ice cream.”

Jaemin enters your line of sight, wrapping an arm around Naeun’s shoulders. It feels like a gunshot to your chest. “Well, I’m not supposed to have it. But these milkshakes make all the pain worth it.” he jokes.

Mark laughs. “He’s right though. How’s it going, Jaemin? I haven’t seen you in forever.”

Jaemin grins. “I’m doing good. School has been way harder lately, but…”

“Yeah, I would assume so. I can’t believe you got into that school, no offense…”

Jaemin chuckles. “None taken. I was surprised I got in, too. I just wish they had accepted me earlier so I wouldn’t have had to leave halfway through a school year. But, I come back here and visit almost every weekend, so…”

Watching Mark and Jaemin talk felt weird. You didn’t even know they knew each other. That also answered your question as to why you never saw Jaemin at school. You wonder what school he had been accepted to.

“Oh, how rude of me. Hey, (y/n). How are you?” Jaemin turns his attention to you. “I was gonna talk to you earlier but you ran away from me.” he laughs. “I didn’t even realize it was you until you were gone.”

“Sorry…” you say softly. “Um… I didn’t realize it was you either.”

You can feel Jaemin’s eyes piercing into you. You didn’t want to look at him. You couldn’t.

“Well, I’d love to hang out with you guys, but after we eat I have to drive Jaemin back home… maybe we could all hang out another time? Double dates, maybe?” she says, grinning.

“Date?” Mark asks, furrowing his brows. “I mean… yeah, we can hangout but…” he laughs awkwardly.

“I’m teasing,” she says, glancing at you. “Both of you get so defensive!” she jokes. “Not trying to pressure you guys, but you’d be really cute together.” she presses.

“Okay, Naeun, enough,” Jaemin chuckles. “Mark’s gonna explode if you keep going.”

You look at Mark, whose face was red from embarrassment.

“We’ll see you guys later then,” Naeun says. The couple walk away from your table, Jaemin’s arm still around her. Your throat gets tight.

“Gosh…” Mark giggles. “Sorry. Stuff like that just gets me embarrassed,” he says, shaking his head.

You smile. “It’s okay.”

A waitress comes to the table a few moments later and sets the food you ordered on the table. Your appetite had come back. Seeing the food made you realize how hungry you really were.

Mark takes a bite of his burger. “I swear this place always hits the spot,” he says.

He was right. The food was really good. You were actually kind of mad this restaurant didn’t exist in your universe. It was perfect.

“Are you okay?” Mark asks. It’s so sudden, your first response is to just stare at him with wide eyes.

You swallow your food. “Yeah, why?”

Mark shrugs. “I just wanted to check in. You kinda froze up when Naeun and Jaemin were talking to us.” he says softly.

“Oh…” you set your burger down. “I was feeling kind of awkward because I ran into Jaemin when I left the bathroom. And then I ran away from him,” you laugh.

“Ah,” Mark nods. “I see.”

“Yeah… I’m kind of good at that. Making everything awkward.” you chuckle.

“Oh, shush.” Mark laughs. “Have you ever met me?”

You giggle. “Okay, well… if you’re the most awkward person on the planet, then I’m the close second.” you tell him.

“And that’s why we make such a good pair.” he replies.

Why did you feel so guilty every time you remembered how much you loved Jaemin?

You both finished your meals; Mark, of course, offered to pay for everything. Then you both left the restaurant. The sun was beginning to set.

“Ooh, wait,” you tell Mark, pulling your camera from your bag. He stops to look at you. “Let me take a picture of you here,” you say, pointing to one of the neon signs in the window.

Mark gets in front of it and poses, and you snap the photo. You both watch as it develops. “Perfect.” you show it to Mark.

You decide to head back to Mark’s house to hang out for a few more hours. As the sun set, the city was becoming less crowded. You passed children riding their bikes back home, people arriving home from work. Everything felt so normal, once again.

“Hey,” Mark says as you reach his room. “Check this out.” he grabs his guitar. “I finally learned how to play this song,”

“Hmm?” you lounge on his bed. “What song?”

He strums his guitar. You could already tell how good he had gotten at it; you only got the chance to hear him play twice before he died.

You recognize the song instantly — I’m Yours by Jason Mraz. It brings a smile to your face. Mark sings along softly. You realize his singing voice has gotten better as well.

You listen to him sing and shift to your side, propping yourself up with your elbow and resting your head on your hand. He’s completely immersed in the music. He looks so happy. You slowly retrieve your bag and take a photo of him.

He stops. “Oh… sorry. I kinda got preoccupied there,” he laughs.

“No, it’s okay…” you reply, feeling guilty for pulling him out of his music-induced-daze. “I was enjoying it.”

“Really?” Mark taps the strings of his guitar. “Well… I’ll finish the song then.” he continues strumming, taking a few moments to find where he left off.

You watch him, a soft smile on your face. This was a moment you definitely wanted to savor. If you were going to forget your time here, you at least wanted to remember this. It was beautiful. It was Mark.

[10:45 p.m.]

Mark offered to walk you home before it got too late — he had forgotten that it was a school night for him.

“Are you sure your mom won’t be mad?” Mark asks, nervously.

You laugh. “Once again, no. If she was worried about me we’d see flyers on the telephone poles,” you joke.

Mark chuckles. “Okay… I just don’t wanna get you in trouble for keeping you out so late. I lost track of time, to be honest…”

You nod. “Me too.” You had spent hours listening to Mark play his guitar and he tried to help you learn a song, but you weren’t as musically gifted as him, so it didn’t go very well. But Mark acted as if you were the God of Guitar, cheering when you played a few chords.

“Today was really fun.” he says softly. “If you ever wanna do this to… unwind… or whatever… just let me know.”

You smile. “Of course.”

Your heart drops as your house comes into view. It was your last few moments with Mark.

He walks you to your doorstep this time; he usually just walks to your driveway. It’s almost as if he knows. “Well,��� Mark says, sighing. “We’re here.”

You grin, trying to mask your sadness. “Yeah… thanks for today. It was really fun!” you say.

Mark stares at you for a moment. “Um…” his eyes dart around, not sure where to look. “I…”

You watch him as he struggles to form a sentence. “Mark?” you ask softly.

He closes his mouth before closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. “I just had a lot of fun today.” he says.

You nod slowly. What did he really want to say? “Hurry and go home,” you tell him. “I don’t need you being all tired tomorrow.” your voice is barely above a whisper.

Mark stares at you for a few moments more. “You’re right,” he laughs, shaking his head. “I’m tired already… I’ll probably sleep like a baby when I get home.” Whatever tension was there had disappeared. In a spur-of-a-moment decision, you wrap your arms around him, hugging him tightly.

“Text me when you get home, okay?” you tell him. Your head is against his chest; You can hear his heart beating.

“Of course,” he breathes. He finally wraps his arms around you. “Are… you okay?” he asks again.

You feel tears rushing to your eyes again. You chuckle. “I’m fine. I just… I love you.” you whisper. “You’re my best friend, okay? And… I need you to know that.”

He rubs your back. “I love you too,” he replies. “I’m so glad to know you.” he says.

You let him go. You knew you had to.

“Well… I’ll see you tomorrow.” Mark says.

You nod. “I’ll see you.”

You knew it was a lie, but only on your end. He’d see you. You wouldn’t be seeing him. But you knew what you were doing was right. Mark starts walking away, giving you one final smile before he was out of sight.

You push your front door open, going straight to your room and letting yourself cry. You let all of your emotions out. You wanted to run to Mark and hug him again and you never wanted to let go.

You finally pulled yourself together when you heard a faint knock on your door. You wipe your eyes and face quickly, although you knew your face would be puffy from crying. “Come in.”

Jisung peeks in. “Are you okay?”

You nod, although it’s unconvincing — his simple question makes you cry more. “I’m fine.”

“Why are you crying?” Jisung opens the door completely and enters, sitting next to you on your bed. “Did something happen?”

You shake your head. “No. I’m not sad,” you lie. “I’m just… feeling a lot of emotions right now.”

Jisung furrows his brows. “But… you seem sad.”

You take a deep breath. “I’m not, bud. I’m fine. Nothing happened between me and Mark, if that’s what you’re asking. I guess I’m just feeling… thankful. For Mark, and you, and all my friends.”

“Oh…” you can tell Jisung is still confused, but he shrugs it off. “Well… I guess as long as you aren’t sad, it’s okay.”

You feel him wrap and arm around you. You hug him back, feeling much more relieved now that you had cried a bit more.

“I’m going to bed now,” Jisung says, removing his arm from around your shoulders. “Are you sure you’re okay…?”

You nod. “I’m okay, really. Go to bed. Don’t stay up late because of me.” you tell him. He should’ve been in bed already… you realize.

Jisung nods. “Okay. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“I love you, Jisung.”

He seems taken aback by your words. You don’t blame him — no matter what, telling your sibling you love them still feels awkward.

“Love you too.”

He leaves your room. You pick up your bag from where you had placed it when you got to your room and retrieved your camera. You collect all the photos you had taken. The one of Jisung in the kitchen, him talking to Mark, Mark and his ice cream, everyone outside of the ice cream parlor, him outside of the restaurant, him playing his guitar, and finally, the photo Hyuck had taken of you. You shove them in your pocket, praying that they would return to the correct universe with you.

You lay down on your bed, completely exhausted. You just want to fall asleep, but you know you can’t. You pull out your phone, going to your messages and clicking on Hyuck’s name.

You

let me know when you’re ready.

[mysticm3ss]

Could u pls write headcanons/a fanfic about RFA+(V & Saeran if u want to) getting MC pregnant but MC tries to hide her pregnancy (for any reason) and around 3 months later when her stomach starts to grow RFA find her pregnancy test hidden away somewhere and confront her about it. I know u already wrote a headcanon about their kids but I just love any sort of headcanon/fanfic about baby’s and pregnancy’s yknow. Btw I love your requests broski. Your a good writer. Sorry if my English not good lol

sure thing, thank you for requesting and thank you for the compliments! don’t worry your english is perfect! 

so i wrote this literally months ago and forgot it was in my drafts, i’m sorry it’s taken so long to get up!! i rly enjoyed proofreading this bc i’m studying developmental psyc at uni right now and it’s lowkey giving me mad baby fever lmao

(leaving out jaehee for this one bc she ain’t out here getting anyone pregnant, like even if she had a penis she’d be too responsible for that to happen unless it was planned anyway let’s b real. also i varied the way the boys found out a bit as well just so things don’t get too repetitive, hope that’s okay!) 

Yoosung:

The thing you have to know about Yoosung is that he is very small and has no money, so you can only imagine the stress he’s under~

Jokes aside, when you realise you’re pregnant, your first reaction is panic.

You and your boyfriend are both so young–you’re not even old enough to have graduated college yet, how are you going to take care of a child?

It takes you a solid month or two just to come to terms with the pregnancy yourself.

When you finally think you’re feeling brave enough to bring it up to him, the thought of what his family might think acts as another hindrance–he seemed to have a perfect family, and Yoosung himself had admitted they were somewhat conservative… how would they react to your situation?

While you’re busy still coming to terms with it, however, Yoosung accidentally stumbles upon the pregnancy test you had so cleverly hidden in the bathroom cabinet.

You’d slipped it into a box of toiletries, snugly hidden between the myriad of tampons and pads that it held. When Yoosung accidentally knocked it from the cabinet, he scrambled to tidy up, cheeks flushed with embarrassment as he tucked away the sanitary products.

He froze when he saw the test, mind whirring as he struggled to explain away the white stick in his hand.

There was no explaining away those two pink lines, however, and so that night, he dared to broach the subject with you.

He fiddled nervously with his hands as he sat on your shared bed, eyes looking everywhere except your face when you entered the room.

“Yoosung… is everything okay?”

A shaky breath. “MC… are you… you’d tell me if something big happened, right? Like… like if you got pregnant or something?”

The guilt-ridden look on your face was all the answer he needed.

Your eyes welled up, and Yoosung’s arms were instantly around you, pulling you against him as he squeezed you tight despite his own shock.

“MC, why wouldn’t you tell me? How long?” His words were soft; gentle whispers into your ear as his fingers combed through your hair.

When you explained your worries, Yoosung’s heart instantly melted, and he felt guilty that he’d never realised what you’d been going through the past few months.

“Don’t worry about my family, MC– don’t worry about anything at all. I love you, and I love this baby, and we’re going to be so happy, okay? I’m right here, cutie, I’m right here…”

And though your face was buried in his shirt, Yoosung could still feel your smile.

Zen:

We all know that Zen is super-focussed on his career, and in turn, works long hours with early starts and late finishes.

His busy schedule and blooming career is the first thing to cross your mind as you stare at the two glaring pink lines on your pregnancy test.

How were you going to tell him? How would he react? His career was just beginning to take off… what if he didn’t want children so soon?

How were you supposed to deal with that..?

And so, spiralling into uncertainty, you decide to put off telling him for as long as possible; to enjoy your relationship for what it was now, in case it all fell apart.

As a result of Zen’s schedule, it’s not too gruelling to hide your pregnancy from your boyfriend.

You usually wake up to brutal morning sickness hours after he’s already left for work, and your fluctuating hormones generally only make their presence known while you’re on your own.

Regardless, Zen is extremely observant, especially when it comes to his jagiya.

He idly notices that you’ve gained weight, but he’d never bring it up; he honestly doesn’t care, so long as you’re healthy, which you certainly seem to be with how radiant you’ve been the past couple of months.

He does, however, notice that you’re keeping something from him. As to what, he’s not sure.

Zen trusts you wholly and completely, so it doesn’t even cross his mind that you could be hiding anything too big from him (at least, at first).

He figures that maybe you’re just planning a surprise for him, as he’s done a number of times for you in the past few years that the two of you have been dating.

When he comes back early one evening to see that you’re not at home, he sets about making dinner for the two of you and decides to get a head start on the chores.

He knows that he’s slacked off on his household duties lately, and the least he can do is pick up a few now that he has some time at home so that you don’t have to worry about them later.

While your favourite meal is warming on the stove, Zen strips the bed of sheets and gathers your dirty laundry into the hamper. 

When he returns with a load of freshly dried clothes, he begins to pack them away. As he folds your underwear and tucks them into the drawer, he notices what seems to be a piece of paper peeking out from beneath the neatly folded fabric.

Confused, he pulls it out, his breath catching as he sees the ultrasound.

He reads your name and the date over and over, unable to even comprehend that you could keep something like this from him.

He’s crushed that you hadn’t told him, and immediately falls into denial.

This has to be a prank, right? MC would never keep something like this from me…

He’s still frozen, sonogram clutched in hand, when you arrive home.

Zen looks up at you, eyes pleading and face soft with vulnerability as he wordlessly begs an explanation.

“…MC?”

His voice is so quiet and broken that it kills you.

You gently explain that it’s real; that this isn’t a tasteless prank but, in fact, reality. Zen takes a deep breath to steel himself.

“Why wouldn’t you tell me? Don’t you think I’d want to be there, especially for this?” he demands, voice ringing with pain and rising in anger as he holds up the sonogram still crinkled in his fist. 

It takes a bit of explaining on your part, but Zen’s hot temper gets the best of him as he shakes his head and turns away from you. Tears prick your eyes.

“Don’t you see, Zen? This is what I was afraid of!” Your voice cracks, and Zen spares a glance back at you, immediately softening as he sees your glistening eyes and the tears beginning to stain your cheeks.

“MC… I love you. I love this baby. I’d never leave, you know that, don’t you, jagi?” His voice is hushed, his heart breaking as he leans in to brush a tear from your face with his thumb.

“You can’t keep things like this from me, princess… not something this big. If you’re worried, talk to me, okay? I’m in this with you. Forever, remember?”

His arms fall around your shoulders as he crushes you to his chest, before pulling away in panic.

“Crap! Was that too tight? Did I hurt the baby?!”

You laugh, and the sound is music to Zen’s ears as you drag him in for another hug.

Jumin:

When you wake up to a sudden wave of nausea, Jumin’s first reaction is concern.

“O-oh, it’s nothing, it must just be something I ate…”

“I see. I must speak with the chef who cooked for us last night, this is a disgusting oversight on his par-”

No Jumin don’t fire the chef ohmygod

You barely manage to calm Jumin down before you’re huddled over the toilet once more, and he lets all remaining traces of fury evaporate as he focusses on holding back your hair and rubbing your back soothingly.

All the while, your mind can’t help but dart back to the pregnancy test that you’d hidden at the bottom of the wastebasket.

You knew you couldn’t keep this a secret from your husband forever; and in your head, you knew that everything would work out just fine. It wasn’t like you couldn’t afford a child, you had more than enough money to provide for them, it was just…

The two of you hadn’t been together for that long; not really. And although that didn’t diminish your love for one another, it didn’t change the fact that Jumin was still just getting used to being emotionally vulnerable and opening himself up to other people.

Would children be too much, too quickly?

He’d never even expressed interest in having children before; he was far too occupied with you and your relationship, enjoying the joys of the present and letting the future bring what it may.

And although you manage to hide your continual morning sickness from him for a little while, you know that as soon as you start to show, you won’t be able to put it off any longer.

When you wake up feeling nauseous yet again, Jumin declares it the final straw.

“MC, you’re clearly ill. I’m phoning a doctor,” he says, voice stern and leaving no room for disagreement. “I should let Assistant Kang know that I won’t be in for work today…”

Your weak protests fall on deaf ears, and barely half an hour later, Jumin is opening the door…

You didn’t realise that “phoning a doctor” entailed bringing in a whole team of specialists in various medical fields.

They check your vitals, and when you hear them begin to murmur about blood tests, you break.

“Jumin, this isn’t necessary!”

“What? Of course it is–they can help, MC. There’s clearly something wrong-”

“Jumin, I’m pregnant!” you snap, the words falling from your lips before you can register their utterance. Jumin’s eyes widen, and he clears his throat as deafening silence falls over the room.

“Excuse us,” he manages, and the team of specialists quickly and awkwardly take their leave.

Honestly, he’s lowkey offended that you kept it from him.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” His voice is stiff and cold, and your heart sinks as you feebly attempt to explain.

“Do you honestly think so low of me? Do you truly not trust me, after everything that we’ve been through?” he asks, voice hard.

That’s when you start to cry.

Damn hormones!

Jumin immediately softens, pulling you into his arms.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry… you’re right. I do trust you, I swear, I was just… I was scared,” you finally managed, voice thick with tears.

And though it takes a little while, Jumin understands. And once the shock has faded, the small smile that tugs up the corner of his lips betrays the excitement that your news has brought him.

“We’ll have to start thinking of names, hmm?”

Seven:

You could hardly call the life that Seven led “safe.”

The risks that come with his job hardly provide an environment fit to raise a child, a thought that instantly flashed through your mind the instant you saw the two lines on the pregnancy test.

You swallow hard, hands shaking as you move to rest a hand over your stomach. If you had to guess, you’d wager that you were at least eight weeks along…

God, had Seven ever mentioned even wanting kids before?

But despite your worries, you couldn’t help but feel a flicker of delight at the idea of raising children with the man you loved so dearly.

Still, that didn’t mean you knew how to tell him.

Luckily, you had time. Seven had been sent on a mission for the agency only that morning, and he wouldn’t be back for at least a month.

Although the news had been initially devastating, you were half-beginning to consider it somewhat of a blessing in disguise… at least you could figure out how to break it to him now, right? It wasn’t like you could break news like that over the phone, after all.

When Seven does finally arrive home, he wastes no time in sweeping you into his arms and planting tiny kisses all across your cheeks, your nose, your forehead, drinking in your warmth and softness and desperately attempting to atone for all the time with you that he had missed.

After finally pulling away, Seven easily notices that you’ve gained weight–of course, he’d never mention it; you were always beautiful to him.

Regardless, he can’t help but observe that you really do seem to be glowing. 

Saeyoung knows you well enough to easily realise that you’re keeping something from him. He sees the nervous twitch of your fingers, the tightness of your smile…

And so, when the two of you cuddle up on the couch later that evening, Seven pressing kisses to your hair and clinging to you like a baby koala, he finally brings it up.

“Sooo… what aren’t you telling me, MC?” he asks, playfully poking your side despite the worry that claws at his chest.

What if they want to break up? Oh god, what if-

He finds himself so lost in his own concerns that when the words finally fall from your lips, it takes him a moment to process them.

“W-what?”

“I’m… I’m pregnant, Sae.”

You hold your breath, and only release it when you see the huge smile stretch over his face, brighter than the sun and just as warm.

And just like that, you know that everything is going to be just fine.

“If it’s a girl, can we name her Elizabeth?” “Seven nO-”

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