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strxnged · 2 years ago

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TIGHNARI: # second life.

word count. 1.3k. genre. coworkers to lovers? whump confession.

overview. after your confession to tighnari goes exceptionally poorly, you move away from gandharva ville, change your job, and try to forget. however, he comes looking for you in sumeru city.

author's note. oops i wrote another tighnari fic. kinda like him or whatever. he's cool. anyways i have a thing for confessions in the rain so we went with it, enjoy feeling slightly sad and then slightly satisfied in this brainrot-drunk fic. reblogs are appreciated as always!

Your entire disposition shifted helplessly the moment you realized Tighnari was in front of your stall, arms crossed and eyes dark. As your breath hitched, you attempted to neutralize your face—but it was impossible, it was hopeless, to prevent the shake in your voice.

“Good afternoon. What can I get for you?”

He met your eyes with a calculated smile. “Hello, Y/N. May I speak with you on your next break?”

You pursed your lips fleetingly. “No, I will be busy.”

He exuded frustration but you both seemed to try to ignore it. “I have to explain…”

So he was also haunted by the scene that had prompted your permanent absence from Gandharva Ville. He was also haunted by how it happened, although you were quite sure if given another chance he would have said the exact same thing to you and the outcome would have been the same.

“Can I get anything else for you?”

“Well…” He sighed, studying the shop’s goods. “Tell me, how fresh are these Niloptala Lotuses?”

“Picked this morning.”

“I’ll have a dozen.”

You kept your eyes on the lotuses as you packaged them for him, carefully folding the leaves on each to protect the small flower within. In a small, watertight box, you organized them in three lines of four, carefully covered it with a straw lid, and pushed it towards him. “That will be forty thousand mora.”

He paid you, and you felt the shape of something in your hand that was not a coin. Before you could understand what it was, and try to give it back to him, he had carried off his vessel and disappeared. But now you wished he would come back, because you had realized it was a note. It read “Collei, of all people, urged me to come to the Bazaar and find you so that I would ‘stop being so miserable.’”

You folded the note and pocketed it, scanning the crowds for any sign of him.

It didn’t make sense. Did he want you to come back to the village, and forget about what had happened? Was he hoping you had gotten over your feelings for him by now, and that you were willing to be a Ranger again?

It wasn’t going to work. Your feelings, if anything, had grown stronger, overpoweringly so. That had been the reason you’d left, hoping in vain that a job unconnected to the Forest Rangers would permit you some distraction. You could think of it so clearly, the hot tears that had been on your face as you had finally said it. “I’m afraid I’ve fallen in love with you, Tighnari,” you’d said. “I’ve fallen in love with you.”

You remembered how his hand holding the beaker of pollen concentrate had frozen, how he’d said nothing for a terrible minute.

He looked up at you, his eyes… fearful? You still couldn’t decide what you had seen in his expression, although you had certainty it hadn’t been positive.

“You can’t,” he had said. “You don’t know me.”

“I—I know you well enough.”

His voice had been cold, and his expression had turned adamant. “You don’t.”

You had thought about this nearly every day since. It had been weeks, and it still gripped and squeezed your heart every time.

Your break came, and you took it promptly. You would find him, if only to tell him you were sorry you had been in his life. You spotted, with some awkwardly elaborate ducking, Collei and a few other Forest Rangers. If they saw you, they’d try to connect with you again, and you couldn’t bear it. News of the angstful aforementioned events, you were sure, had spread between Rangers. Oh, it was humiliating.

You continued out of the Bazaar. It was raining in Sumeru City today, and you were grateful for the Bazaar’s cover. You now regretted not bringing with you any kind of hat or umbrella, as your uniform was going to be drenched.

You did not know where Tighnari might be since he did not appear to be in the Bazaar. You had headed to the South entrance, struck with the idea that perhaps his acquaintance Rohawi would know—maybe he had stopped to greet him, and shared at least the purpose of the visit to Sumeru City visit.

But you didn’t get far. The rain picked up, and you immediately found shelter as it was necessary. Said shelter happened to be the overhang on the side door of the Jewler’s shop. You rested against one of the pillars, and wiped some rain off of the top of your head.

Then, you stared.

Tighnari stared back at you from beside the opposite pillar, hair also dripping to the wooden floor.

“Tighnari—”

“Y/N—”

You both went quiet, and then he sighed.

“I’m sorry.”

You shook your head. “No, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have sprung that on you, it was… You may be right that I can’t love you with how little I know about you, but I… I can’t help it Tighnari, and I’m afraid that ruined everything.”

“But it’s my fault you misunderstood,” he said. “You are the first to confess to me in such a way, and it caught me off guard. However, that does not excuse how I reacted.”

“You were being honest.”

“I was being brackish. I did not take the time to acknowledge your emotions, nor my own, as I responded in the logical and cruel way that is most natural for me.”

As a contrast to the bustling, noisy marketplace atmosphere that you had been speaking over earlier, the thunder and rain were isolating. You seemed to be the only voices in the tunnel of weather. “But you were still right. I didn’t know you well enough to understand… and how can I defend my feelings for you then?”

Tighnari reached for your hand, hesitating only an inch before he grabbed it. Then, he lifted it and covered it with his other hand. “The truth is,” he said, “I feel a certain kind of way for you that I’ve not felt for anyone in a long time. It is… frightening. But—” He looked you in the eyes earnestly, “--You have to understand that I don’t know you as well as I would like to. I would like to know so much about you so that I may love all of you. I would like to study you, your likes and dislikes, your fears, your passions. I want to know what makes you tick, Y/N. I want to be with you so that I can observe you, and so that you might, in return, get to know me, too.”

You wanted to ask him if he meant it, but you knew the answer. His eyes said the rest.

“May I hug you, Tighnari?” you said, unable to think of anything else.

His voice broke as he said, “Of course you may, my dear friend.”

You finally stepped forward and embraced Tighnari, finding the dampness of your clothing only comforting, somehow. He smelled like the trees, and rain, and home. He held you sturdily and decidedly, one hand on the center of your back and one on the back of your head. He was unwilling to let you go until his heat had warmed you some.

When you finally released, he took your face in his hands and planted a sweet kiss on your forehead.

“May I get to know you, Y/N?”

author's note. when i wrote the bit with the note i couldn't help but think about a "new item acquired: tighnari's note" notification on the side of the screen LAFKHLADS

#WE'RE AT IT AGAIN #tighnari x reader #genshin x reader #tighnari imagine #tighnari fluff #tighnari angst #genshin angst #genshin x gn!reader #genshin fluff #genshin scenario #genshin impact fic #tighnari #(scheduled post)

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firebloodanddragons · 2 years ago

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The Midnight Relief - Part 4 (Aemond Targaryen x Reader) NSFW

Summary: Your relationship with Prince Aemond has changed, so much that you tend to forget not only who you are but who he truly is.

Tags: SMUT, Porn with Plot (sort of), Vaginal Sex, Rough Sex, Fingering, Squirting, Breeding kink, Dubious Consent, Targcest (Reader is Daemon Targaryen’s bastard), Angst and Fluff.

Author's note: I'm so sorry for keeping you waiting. I have been very busy with work lately so I couldn't find time to focus on writing this story. I hope you'll enjoy this chapter nevertheless. Next chapter will probably be the last one. Tell me how you imagine the end of this fan fiction. And please do not hesitate to like or reblog this chapter (it is the best reward for any writer)

Your eyes opened slowly at dawn, woken up by the first rays that shone through the large lancet windows. They did not dazzle you – they were too orange and dim for that - but you blinked a few times with a smile upon your face, not because of the light but to make sure the blurry pale silhouette that was slowly taking shape before your sleepy and lidded eyes would not disappear as quick as dew in the morning sun. Aemond looked so peaceful when he was asleep. It was as if the ferocious aura he carried within him all day long disappeared during the night to allow him a short moment of serenity. Seeing him like this was surprising and unexpected. You always thought he would be the kind of man to sleep with a frown and with his fists clenched … and possibly a dagger underneath his pillow. You chuckled silently at this idea, finding it more amusing than formidable and you wrapped your naked body in the soft sheet with a happy grin on your face to enjoy the view and the comfort of Aemond’s bed a little longer. You had never slept in a bed like this one. All you knew were poor thin mattresses on the floor and scratchy patched blankets that couldn’t keep you warm at night. But you definitely could get used it: the mattress as soft as a pile of delicate feathers, the fine cotton sheets so pleasant to the skin and the naked handsome prince sleeping by your side. They could almost make you believe you belonged here and not in a humid crowded dorm. If only the whole world was just this bed. Life would be so much easier.

You didn’t know how long you gazed at Aemond, your fingertips connecting the few moles on his milky chest by tracing invisible lines like an astronomer would draw constellations, but when you began to hear the growing hubbub in the corridors outside the prince’s room, you thought it might be time for you to leave your waking dream. You instinctively pecked Aemond’s shoulder and reluctantly abandoned the warm sheets to get out of the bed and go back to your harsh reality. But before you could put a toe on the stone floor, a sleepy raspy voice stopped you. “May I ask where you’re going? I did not dismiss you and I certainly did not order you to stop what you were doing.” You glanced briefly over your shoulder and beamed away from Aemond’s sight, amused by the domesticity that warmed your heart.

Your relationship had changed greatly since the One-Eyed Targaryen’s return from Storm’s End a week ago. It had become gentler and more lighthearted and it had made you forget on many occasions that you were a mere serving girl whom the prince could treat like his personal whore.

All the moments spent in his company - whether they were in his bed or not - had become almost customary. Aemond would not summon you on a whim anymore to take it out on your cunt after a rough day (and he had had many rough days recently), nor would he dismiss you with nonchalance after being done with your service – sexual or not. Every day, he would find a way to spend some time in your company. In the morning he would greet you with a smile à la Aemond, faint and controlled but genuine, talk to you as you would do his hair and then wait for you to finish cleaning his rooms before leaving for training only to find you again in the afternoon always in his chambers where he would study and occasionally glance at you playing the lute from above his book. Then after his usual evening on Vhagar’s back he would summon you again to bring him his supper and spend the rest of the night with you by the fire and then in his bed in which he would hump you over and over again until the hour would become too late. Both of you loved and thrived in these new habits for they gave you comfort and a way out of your lives that were doomed to become darker. A black threat was looming over King’s Landing. You both could feel it but for now you would ignore it and enjoy your new shared frivolity as much as possible.

“It’s dawn.” You declared, knowing your fellow servants would stare at you and probably ask nosy questions on your whereabouts and your absence in your dorm last night once you’d go back to them. You had never slept elsewhere before. “Indeed, and it’s been dawn for a while now.” Aemond agreed, still lying in his bed with his eye still closed which made you wonder how long he had been pretending to be still asleep. “How long have you been awake?” “Long enough to find your staring annoying.” He grumbled. “But my touching intoxicating.” You added as you chuckled and then you scanned the bed quickly to find your undergarments. You had to get dressed. But before you could find them, Aemond pounced on you by surprise. He wrapped his strong arms around your waist and pulled you against his warm solid chest so that he could lay you down in the bed again. You squealed at first but then giggled as he handled you and trapped you underneath his pale naked body and a tent of white sheets. “Touch me more. Your prince commands you.” “The prince can touch himself.” You retorted with funny defiance that Aemond pretended to glare at to keep his callous reputation intact. But he could not trick you. “My hands are busy at the moment.” His grip around your wrists tightened briefly to make you understand what he meant by that and you tried to escape his hold to send him a similar message. “And mines are captive.” “Hmm… Then what about your perfect lips? Do you think they can give me a soft kiss?” You chuckled as Aemond approached your face with the intention to claim your mouth. His heart-shaped lips brushed yours softly over and over again to make them reciprocate his affection. So, you parted your lips a bit and deliberately barely responded to his little pecks. You knew he would not appreciate your lack of submission and passion but there was a reason behind your restraint. You wanted to tease Aemond until he would turn his softness into something more blazing, which he ultimately did. His kisses multiplied and quickly became more frustrated and desperate, furiously begging you to just respond to his lips and give him what he craved. You eventually did and pulled at his plump flesh with your mouth. You felt his proud victory in his smirk as he leant into the kiss, unaware of the little mischief you had in mind. Gloating in silence, you let Aemond lose himself in the kiss and when he finally released your wrists to spread your legs and get comfortable between your thighs, your hand slid down his body and suddenly grabbed his semi-hard cock as you bit his lower lip. “Ow!” He complained, more surprised than hurt, his pink flesh still in between your teeth, and then when you finally let go of him, he grabbed your wrists again to pin then down above your head. “I said a soft kiss.” “Really? I thought you said rough.” You joked as you tried to bite him again. This time Aemond saw it coming and he recoiled to frown at you even though he was as amused as you were. He genuinely liked that frivolous wild side of you and he secretly wished he had discovered it way sooner. It would have cheered his days up. “You’re about to get it rough if you don’t behave.” He threatened and you sank back in the mattress, pretending to be impressed even if in truth your eyes were sparkling with pride and mischief and a cheeky smirk was discreetly tugging at your lips. “I have to go back to my toils.” “I forbid you.” The prince immediately retorted before giving you a half-serious look that meant ‘don’t you dare bite me this time’. You giggled almost silently and Aemond nestled his face in your neck to lay a few humid kisses on your warm skin. “What about your morning training?” “I like this routine better.” He mumbled between two pecks that made you squirm. “I might not be as educated as you are but I don’t think you can call this a routine since it is the first time it happens.” “We’ll make it a routine then.” His answers came all so quick you wondered if he even put some thought into them or if he was simply acting reckless again just like last night when he made you stay. “I would love to wake up in your presence more often… every day in fact.” “In my presence or in something else?” You teased, conscious of his cock growing harder between your thighs “In anything you wish to offer me.” He purred in your neck. “No, Aemond. What do you want?”

For reasons you couldn’t explain, your question had come out with more seriousness than intended. When you felt the Targaryen prince’s lips freeze on your skin and his body become still against yours, you realised that your words had not fallen on deaf ears. Aemond looked up at you with sad puppy eyes only you were allowed to see but deep down he was grateful. No one had ever asked him what he wanted, never in his young life, because what he wanted did not matter. What mattered was duty. Duty above all else. “So many things I can’t have.” Hidden with you under the tent made of white sheets - a tiny world in which there was just you and him and no one else to hear him - he wished to enumerate them all, tell you about his desire for recognition and love, about his thirst for power and secret aspiration to the Iron Throne. He also wished to admit that he did not enjoy being an asset for his family anymore, that he did not want to marry Floris Baratheon and that the recent time with you had made him realise there was only one woman he craved to have forever not only in his bed but by his side. However, as usual, he kept everything to himself. His pitiful confessions could wait. They didn’t have their place in that lovely cotton nest you two had built together. “But right now, I want your surrender.” He pressed his cock to your core to change the subject but you still had enough control to keep the conversation going. “We both know you’re too stub…persistent to truly renounce something that someone said you couldn’t have.” “Were you about to call me stubborn? You’re insulting your prince, now?” He humoured. “How is that an insult?” “You tell me. You corrected yourself.” You pondered over your words for a short instant, wondering how you had almost let the word ‘stubborn’ slip. Prince Aemond had the reputation to be easily offended, fierce and prompt to violence and unpredictable outbursts. That’s mostly why you had always weighted your words in his presence. And yet today, you almost didn’t think before speaking and he had welcomed your familiarity with humour, not with the reprisal your old self would have expected. Did your relationship truly change that much? Did he change? “You’re stubborn.” You finally dared say with a smile when you realized you could say the word without fear. “… but I like your stubbornness.” Aemond chuckled briefly and he nestled his face back in your neck with an amused smile on his young face. “Hmm … What else do you like?” He purred as he rubbed his nose on your skin before laying small kisses along your throat and you sighed deeply. That felt extremely good but you were aware that the goal of his affection was not only your pleasure. It was a very cunning way to make you yield and give your prince what he craved but would not take from you without your submission. “Your cleverness.” You declared and you cleared your voice as you squirmed lightly under Aemond’s soft pecks. “And?” You could hear the mischief in his voice as his hands ventured down your sides and his mouth slid down to your chest, leaving a humid track on its way. You couldn’t answer the prince. Your mind was too busy focusing on his ministrations. You wanted more. Aemond reached your breasts rather quickly and you inhaled deeply, your eyes staring at his face buried between your mounts. Your heart was pounding in your chest and you could feel your breath quicken. Instinctively you spread your legs to welcome Aemond between your thighs as soon as he began kissing your breasts one by one. You could tell he dearly enjoyed their softness as he couldn’t stop pecking them and nuzzling in their flesh. When his lips found their way to one of your hard nipple, you bit your lower lip to prevent yourself from moaning, but deep down you were just begging Aemond to just capture the little bud and roll his tongue around it. Your silence drew the prince’s attention and he looked up at you. Your resistance didn’t please him. It toyed with its impatience and he hated that. But the thought of breaking it was exciting and he didn’t mind a little challenge, especially when he was sure of his victory. “Answer my question, starlight.” He ordered; his lips close to your nipple. “What else do you like about your prince?” The tip of his tongue tickled the hard bud and you instantly whimpered. Your thighs clenched around Aemond in a vain attempt to soothe the delicious ache building in your pussy. You were getting wet and your arousal was screaming at you to just yield to your prince. “Your boldness.” You hissed and Aemond rewarded your compliance by planting his mouth on your nipple. This time you couldn’t keep your lustful moan to yourself and a long plaintive ‘ah’ escaped your lips. Aemond chuckled with pride, your teat still in his mouth. He was taking real pleasure in playing with you. “Tell me more.” He commanded as his hand slid down your stomach to reach your folds. You knew where this was going and you did not wish to struggle anymore. You were craving what was coming as much as Aemond. “I love your passion.” You admitted, rolling your hips to guide the Targaryen’s fingers and he cupped your cunt to stop you from moving. “I decide what to do to you.” He roared and you froze. You silently looked at each other deep in the eyes for a moment and when your obedience finally convinced Aemond he slid a finger in your hole. You sighed immediately and your head sank in the pillow, the heavenly sensations washing over you. “That’s it. Submit to be. Be a good girl.” Aemond purred as he fingered you slowly to make you yearn for more. “Give yourself to me completely.” And he caught one of your mounts and put your nipple back between his lips to suck on it greedily and nibble it with his teeth gently.. You wrapped your legs around Aemond in a desperate attempt at keeping him against you, loving his hunger and his burning caresses too much to let him go. That’s when you noticed him slowly rubbing his hard cock against the mattress, an instinctive and lustful gesture to certainly ease the ache in his loins. He craved to hump you and you could help but to find his desperate need terribly arousing. “Aemond.” You whispered to catch his attention, wishing to help him with his painful hardness, but he was too busy sucking at your teat and fingering you to react. You caressed his hair slowly – how soft it was – and then let your hand slide to his jaw that you brushed delicately with your fingertips. The prince responded to your touch with a grunt and he tightened his grip around your breasts to pull on your nipple even more, almost as if he was a child refusing to let go of his mother’s breasts. He was completely hypnotized by that little bit of flesh in his mouth. So, you abandoned your idea and let him carry on.

Somehow, his finger managed to find a never-explored area in your cunt that made you abruptly arch your back, clench your thighs and squeal like never before. It surprised Aemond and he didn’t take long to find out the reason of your sudden reaction. He slid a new finger in your drenched cunt and reached the same spot again. You grabbed his shoulders, digging your nails in the flesh, as you moaned loudly and Aemond curled his fingers. He let go of your breasts to kneel between your thighs and watch your body shake and squirm under his touch as his digits pumping in and out of you repeatedly massaged the little spongy place within you that he had just discovered. He was simply fascinated and your reactions were too beautiful and enticing for him to stop. If anything, they were encouraging and he wanted more of them. “That’s it.” He whispered. Then he put his thumb on your swollen clit to rub it, knowing the touch you make you scream louder. He wasn’t wrong. You cried out. “Aemond, please.” “Please what?” You didn’t know what exactly but you begged. “Faster … harder.” He indulged you and quickened the pace, going all the way out of you and then right back in again. And soon, your body tensed, your toes curled and you grabbed the sheets as you screamed all the pleasure you felt. Your orgasm was an uncontrollable explosion whose noise could not be contained by the tent of soft sheets above your head. It burst like wildfire, destroying the unknown dyke inside of you as if it was made of the most fragile material. It squirted all your pleasure out of you and drenched your thighs and Aemond’s hand and bed. “Fuck!” You cried out as you tried to push the prince away, astonished and rather embarrassed by what was happening to you. But the Targaryen didn’t care. On the contrary he seemed to genuinely like it considering the amused satisfied smirk on his face as he kept relentlessly toying with your g-spot to empty you even more. “Hmm” He laughed and continued to finger you hard as you were still dazed and confused. His eye was dark and full of lust and you could tell he wanted more. “I don’t think I c—” It turned out you could and another surprising spurt came out of your cunt making you whimper and wet yourself and Aemond once more. “Seven heavens, I love this.” Aemond giggled darkly, proud of his doing. “But I definitely have to hump you now.”

He brutally let go of your cunt and flipped you over to grab your hips and bring your arse to his pelvis. He slapped your cheek, making your squeal and squirm and immediately plunged his hard in your drenched cunt. It slid in so easily the prince felt the need to growl. His fingers digging in your flesh, he kept you firmly in place to initiate a series of hammering and almost-punishing quick thrusts that reflected the infuriating yet arousing lust he was feeling. You almost cursed because of his ardour but only a breathless gasp followed by a succession of plaintive moans managed to escape your lips. Bent under Aemond, at the mercy of his relentless drilling, you buried your face into the drenched mattress to muffle the sounds he took great pleasure to get out of you. “You like this, don’t you, my lewd starlight?” He roared, his voice dark and obscene. You cried out as you nodded frantically and he pushed himself more into you, so deep you felt his testicles brush your soaked pussy then repeatedly slap your swollen clit that was so happy to meet them. The music of your wet skin meeting was enchanting and you arched your back to embrace Aemond’s smacking hips even more, thankful for the pleasure he was giving you. “Do you want your prince’s seed inside you?” He asked between gritted teeth. The question was not a surprise. Aemond had stamina but such an enthusiastic pace could make any hardy man empty himself quickly. You nodded again and dug your nails in the cotton sheets to take what he was so close to give you. But his rhythm slowed a bit and he took a fistful of your hair to bring you against his chest. You mewled because of the slight pain but it was nothing in comparison to Aemond’s cock pulsing in the deepest region of your cunt. “I didn’t hear you, flower. Do you want your prince’s seed inside you or not?” He repeated in your ear and you felt your walls clench around him. “Yes…” You admitted with difficultly and you heard him chuckle with dark satisfaction. “… but not today, please… Last time the moon tea gave me an awful stomach ache.” “Isn’t the pain worth the pleasure?” He purred as he took your breasts in his palms and he resumed his hammering. You almost crumbled under his merciless pelvis but the prince held you back, keeping you still between his thighs with his hands tightly wrapped around your mounts, your back against his sweating strong chest. “Aemond … please.” You begged when you understood he would not do as you had asked but once again, he didn’t listen and continued his pounding, chasing his release. “Just let me give it you, starlight. I want to breed you. I need to breed you. I want that soft belly to carry my child. Please.” His dark voice sounded almost desperate as if his reckless desire to spurt his seed inside you was vital to him. Aemond’s teeth met your shoulders, biting the flesh hard enough to leave a mark, and his strong arms wrapped around your chest, holding you tight against his torso, on hand pressed on your breasts the other on your lower belly to keep himself deep and you still. His thrusting slowed down but became harder as he began to grunt furiously in your shoulder. Then his muffled noises became plaintive growls similar to whimpers but more animalistic as he finally came deep inside your cunt, splashing your walls with every drop of his seed. When there was nothing left, Aemond stopped thrusting. Exhausted and silent, he remained panting and nestled against your back, his arms still around you and his pulsating cock still buried in your hole, refusing to pull out to make sure you’d keep every drop of semen inside of you. He kissed your shoulder, right where he had bitten you and you smiled, tired just like him. “You never listen, do you?” “You said it yourself. I’m stubborn.” You giggled and it made Aemond chuckle in your neck. His laugh was tired but soft and peaceful, almost childish. Moved by his gentleness and in need for comfort, you turned your head to kiss him. He let you and responded to your peck with tenderness.

But then your eyes widened in horror as you noticed a small child standing by the door of the prince's chambers, his blue look as appalled as yours. You alerted Aemond, screaming his name in panic, as you hastily pushed him away from you to cover your nakedness with the sheets. You truly hoped the boy had not seen anything of your and Aemond’s shared lust but deep down you knew the truth just as you knew this silly optimism was just a way to not give in to alarm. You stared at the boy, terrorized and already silently begging him to forget everything his innocence – now shattered for ever - had witnessed but his blue eyes fixed upon you as if he was a fawn facing a sharp arrow were telling you he would never. You opened your mouth to say something but then he quickly turned around to rush out of Aemond’s rooms. That’s when Aemond jumped out of bed, put on his royal black and green robe made of the finest cotton to run after the boy, the dragon embroidered in the back flying after its prey with deadly purpose. You knew you should have followed him with the same haste but the fear growing inside you was making all your movements slow and heavy.

“Where are you going like that, snooping rat?” Aemond asked as he caught the boy by his skinny arm in the corridor and pushed him against the stone wall. The little servant did not answer, terrified by the gigantic and formidable scarred prince that had just trapped him and that was now staring at him with impatience and dark amusement. “Who told you to come in here?” “S-s-ser Criston, my prince.” He finally mumbled, trembling like a leaf in a cold wind. Aemond chuckled briefly, unsurprised by the revelation and he knelt in front of the boy to have a better look at him. He was small and sickly with sandy blond hair and pale skin. His cheeks were hollowed and he had dark circles under his puffy eyes. He had certainly not eaten or slept properly in a while, just like most serving children working in the keep. But somehow, it was another face that came to Prince Aemond's mind as he observed the boy, a face he had seen in a mirror for years. His. “How old are you?” “Ten … my prince.” “Hmm … You don’t look ten.” Aemond declared with a faint smile but that smile was far from kind. “You’re small, puny … a bit like I was when I was a child. A chance I was feisty and bold. Tell me, are you bold?” The boy sensed the threat in the prince’s question and he shook even more. He crossed his legs, suddenly feeling the need to pee growing in his ragged trousers just like the terror in his empty stomach.

That’s when you entered the corridor slowly and quietly, your shivering hands clinging to the red fabric of your faded servant dress. Standing a few steps away from the boy and the prince, you wanted to intervene. You wanted to come closer and stop Aemond. You wanted to free the poor child and comfort him. But a selfish voice in your head was telling you to reconsider your boldness and your thirst for justice. You've too much to lose, girl. “No of course not, bold boys don’t run away like cowards.” Aemond declared. The boy glanced at you from afar, his eyes shining with tears and pleading for your help. But you were just as terrified and paralysed as he was right now and the voice in your head was once more ordering you to stay put. So you stared at the boy definitely sorry and you looked down at your feet in shame. “Do you know what happened to me when I was ten?” The child looked back at Aemond and shook his head. In response, the prince pointed at the sapphire in his eye socket and the kid stared at the jewel with horror. “This happened. And you see the boy who did this to me, King Viserys, my own father, never punished him for it. If I do something as awful to you, a poor meaningless serving boy, if I take let’s say your tongue to make sure you don’t repeat what you saw in my rooms, King Aegon will do exactly as King Viserys. He will not care about you and he will definitely not punish me. So, there is nothing that can prevent me from making sure you won’t be able to tell a soul about what happened. Do you understand that?” Your eyes widened and you felt your heart skip a beat. You couldn't believe what you had just heard. Aemond couldn't possibly say that, not to a kid. And yet, there was this tiny reasonable part of you, the one that did not love, that knew he could. “Aemond.” You called out to make him stop and reconsider but your voice was barely louder than a whisper. But this time you were not scared for yourself, you were scared for that kid whose trousers were now getting wetter and wetter between his thighs. “No child would wish to be so atrociously maimed; don’t you agree? So, promise you’ll forget what you saw and that you won’t tell anyone ever.” The serving boy nodded quickly and without thinking, his mouth tightly shut as if to protect his little tongue. “Say it. You still have your tongue.” Aemond encouraged. “I will forget what I saw and I won’t tell anyone ever” The boy promised, his teeth chattering. “Good lad. Now go tell Ser Criston I’m on my way.” Aemond stood up and as soon as he stepped back, the boy ran away as fast as he could, occasionally clanking back to make sure he was not followed or in any danger. His frightened attitude made Aemond gloat with pride and he looked back at you with a smirk. However, your reaction was not the one he expected. Instead of a look of gratitude or relief, you walked back to his room, looking disappointed and ashamed of him and of yourself.

Aemond frowned and quickly went back to his rooms to ask for explanations. “Why the look?” He asked with a harsh voice. You were putting on your white apron, fumbling with the ties in your back. You couldn't stay with him any longer not after what you had witnessed, what you had allowed him to do. “He’s a child. Did you really need to go that far?” “I merely intimidated him. He will get over it. Trust me I know." You shook your head, knowing all too well what he meant by that. But you still couldn't understand how he could take pleasure in treating boys the same way he was once treated, as if they were powerless and insignificant. If anything he should feel sorry for them. "Besides, he left unscathed, didn’t he? Doesn't that rejoice you?” You eyed at Aemond, baffled. He didn’t seem to realize how unsympathetic he was. “He was terrified. He peed himself!” You almost shouted, hoping he would understand the situation he had put the small child in. “You didn’t have to threaten him. A kind explanation even a coin would have been enough to keep him silent.” But it was like talking to a wall. “Nothing works better than fear, trust me.” He casually said as he walked towards you to take the ties of your apron in his hands. You tensed as he did but let him play with the white fabric. "And if that bothered you so much you should have said something." You looked down in shame once more, hating yourself for your selfishness and your fear, while Aemond unknotted your serving uniform sensually, foolishly believing you could desire him right now. “Can’t you understand I’ve done this for us?” He whispered before placing a kiss on your temple. “Have you? Or have you done it to save your reputation?” “Why should it matter?" He replied as he stroked your belly and caressed your neck with his warm lips. "Either way I’ve still saved your pretty neck.” You hissed and brutally escaped his embrace, finding him suddenly repulsive and gross. You glared at him and he stared back at you with an expression of utter shock and disbelief. You wanted to say something, something meaningful that would move him but there was nothing you could say, nothing he would understand. He was a prince of the seven kingdoms and you were simply a serving girl, someone ... no, something that did not matter to the eyes of noble rich men like him. You had no power over him. You were nothing but a toy to him and you should have never believed otherwise. So you walked away in silence. “Where are you going?” Aemond shouted. “Back to my poor meaningless serving girl life.” “YN! Come back here! Your prince commands you!”

Readers List: @ninem99 @salinaiacono6 @mxrgodsstuff @horrorwhores-posts @harryshousewhore @wrldverde @ohitsthemaster @eudximoniakr @saintofmalefic @evephoria3 @ramielll @petit-poussin @rainyhorsecopopera @bloobirds @katie-booktok @iheartaemondtargaryen @liaphoenicia @anditgetseverywhere @whosleiko @babyblue7110 @atherverybest @goodnightn4n4 @schniiipsel @tomshollandz @bri-cheese @dollfaceyourfear @lowkeydgaf @itsabby15 @chaoticboy @imagne @hyperfixatedhyperstressed @dana669-blog @goblinshark1e @riselike-a-phoenix @hellmorozova @aveatquevale- @lol-im-done @lilithskywalker @hc-geralt-23 @fictionalcomforts @courtney0-0 @aemondhoe @poppyflower-22 @lizajane2 @angmarwitch

#aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #Aemond Targaryen fanfic #the midnight relief #house of the dragon

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chosovixen · 2 years ago

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Hiiiii!!! It's @ghosttownwherenoonegoes with that self-indulgent request 💕 may I ask for Eddie with an s/o who is always overthinking, always doing something. They're up 5am to 11pm every day (I'm always tired 😩 but how else can I keep up with the world?), no naps, just at their job or doing university work or chores or... You get it. They work hard and may seem put together but in their head they're a screaming anxious wreck. And Eddie being Eddie calms them down just by existing. They have pictures of him above their bed to turn to look at from their desk for a reminder to stop, breathe, "do it for Eddie" as motivation etc. You absolutely don't have to write this if you don't want to!!! And if you want a request written then feel free to send it my way 😭💕💕💔

i really loved writing this; thanks for the request!!

feedback and reblogs are appreciated!!

Reality was getting to you once again as you stood in front of the university's bathroom mirror, balling your eyes out. Anyone who came to the bathroom to relieve themselves was met with uncontrollable crying and crumpled paper scattered all over the dual sinks and on the tiled floor.

You couldn't help yourself, and the one person who made it better wasn't here to rub your back and feed you warm cookies. No, he was away at a small gig his band was able to get finally; you knew how important it was for his crew to grow, and they did it through whatever life handed them, so you didn't protest—letting him travel four hours away. The hours weren't a big issue; it was the fact that he called you on your lunch break, telling you he had to stay an extra night to perform an open in the morning. It hurt a little because he had promised to be back that same night—but just hearing the sheer joy in his voice when telling you how insane the crowd was for their original songs. You did what any supportive girlfriend would and encouraged him to do his absolute best. While reminding him not to get a big head about it—you two shared a laugh, and the call ended, leaving you to fend for yourself.

As you choked out more tears—rapidly trying to find more tissue, you reached into your bag, trying to see if you had packed any. But instead, you found yourself pulling out your keychain—your shoulders relaxed, you could finally breathe properly, and you watched as the clear plastic encapsulated the perfect cut-out photo of you and Eddie on your first anniversary.

Some rando took the picture for you guys outside of a crappy diner that afternoon. You remembered how much Eddie complained about his wish to have taken you to a fancier place. Still, you told him once again that as long as you two had each other—any and everything he had given you were the greatest gifts known to humanity. He smiled, handing you the photo and then saying, "and I hope you know that even if we're not together for whatever reason," he dramatically threw his hands up, then brought them down to hold your face. He brushed your cheek softly, placing a small but sweet kiss on your forehead. "let that photo remind you that I'm somewhere cheering you on and hoping you do your very best."

So you pulled the keychain close to your chest, squeezing it tight as you whispered an 'I'll try Eddie, I promise.'

#stranger things #eddie munson #eddie stranger things #stranger things 4 #eddie my beloved #eddie x reader #eddie #joseph quinn #joseph quinn imagine #joseph quinn fanfiction #eddie munson stranger things #stranger things s4 #eddie x fem!reader #joseph quinn x y/n #soft eddie munson #stranger things x reader #eddie imagine

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kalimagik · 5 years ago

Text

Strawberry

Fred Weasley x Pregnant!Reader

Word Count: 5k

Requested by @coffee-wihtout-caffeine - “Can I request Fred x reader where it’s throughout her pregnancy with supportive Weasley family? Like the entire pregnancy just bits through each month and dealing with the symptoms. Tia”

A/N: I had SO much fun writing this. I was so excited the whole time (i love babies and think pregnancy is beautiful, so I may have gotten carried away). It’s super fluffy, has something for each month, and a whole lot of cute Fred and a supportive Weasley family! It’s not my usual writing style, but still so fun. Feedback is always welcome! Comment, like, reblog! Happy Reading <3 (also, I got too excited to wait til tonight to post it, so its coming early)

Month 1

It had to be the stomach flu, what else could it be? Fred left you in bed that morning after you spent most of the night with your head over the toilet. You racked your mind, trying to figure out where you would have caught the stomach flu. That’s when it hit you. Running to the nearest convenience store, you bought the tests, trying to be as inconspicuous as possible.

You looked at the pregnancy test again and the other 3 that sat on the vanity, all positive. No, you and Fred weren’t trying for a baby, but you weren’t not trying either. A baby…you were going to have a baby, Fred’s baby.

The butterflies in your stomach were going to have a roommate. The thought made your lips curl into a grin as you looked into the mirror. A baby! Now you just had to tell Fred. Knowing you had a few hours, you rushed around the house like a mad woman. The rest of the day consisted of picking up, making dinner, and making yourself look presentable and not like you had spent most of the day in bed. The day also included throwing up every now and then, but you were actually kind of excited each time because it was just a reminder of the little boy or girl growing in your stomach.

When Fred walked through the door, you had your favorite “Love Songs” playlist playing, the dinner table set, and candles lit throughout the entire flat. “Is someone feeling better?” Fred called out above the music.

“Freddie! I’m in here,” you sang, still cleaning up pots and pans from dinner.

“What is all of this?” Fred asked, eyes widening at the sight laid out in front of him. “Did I forget an anniversary or something?” he chuckled, knowing very well that he didn’t. “This is wonderful, love. But, what did I do to deserve this?”

“Just sit down and you’ll find out!” You beamed, bringing Fred’s favorite food to the table, his mother’s meatballs with onion sauce with a treacle tart and cream puffs on the side for dessert.

“24 hour stomach flu pass?”

“Uhhh, for the most part,” you skirted around the subject a bit. You had a plan to tell him about the baby.

Dinner went by with your usual conversations about the day, the shop, and how George and the rest of the Weasleys were doing. When tart had been dished out, you stood up from your seat and went behind the couch to get your little gift.

“Okay, what is going on?” Fred asked, now confused as to why he got his favorite dinner, dessert, and now a present. “Did you do something I should be angry about? Did someone else do something that I should be taking credit for?”

“No, silly,” you giggle, sitting the present in front of him. “Just open this!” You watch him intently while standing as he takes the tissue paper out of the bag and unwraps the first little gift. The white tissue paper fell to the floor as he unfolded a little white onesie that read “I solemnly swear I am up to no good.”

“What’s this for? I’m not going to be an uncle or something am I? Is George around here trying to punk me?”

You just shook your head, an amused, close lipped smile set on your face. “Open the next one.”

Fred stuck his hand back into the small, blue bag and pulled out the long box that had probably once held a bracelet. When he pulled the lid off, there was the 4th and final positive pregnancy test that you had taken earlier in the day. Fred looked up at you, eyes wide. The hand not holding the box with the test reached for the onesie as he put two and two together.

“Are you- Is this? Does this mean-” You just nodded as he stumbled over his words.

“I’m pregnant,” you told him with a laugh/cry. Honestly, you weren’t sure what the noise was, but it was a happy one. Fred flew out of his seat so quickly to embrace you that his chair fell to the floor with a loud clatter.

“You’re pregnant?” he asked again once he finally let you go and stopped kissing your face. You could only nod as the happy tears streamed down your face. “Oh, I guess I shouldn’t hug you so hard. Wouldn’t want to hurt the little lad or gal would I?”

“I think the little Weasley will be okay,” you smirk, hugging Fred a little tighter.

“So when can I tell George?”

You laugh as you kiss Fred’s cheek. “Not just yet, darling. Let’s see a doctor first”

Month 2

“So I can tell Georgie right after this right?” Fred asked as you sat in a room at St. Mungo’s waiting for the doctor.

“I enjoy you pretending to wait for my permission when I know you already told him,” you laugh, squeezing Fred’s hand while he helps you onto the chair for the mothers to be. “He was not very subtle when I came by the shop the other day. He was talking about inventing baby friendly products for the shop.” You rolled your eyes sarcastically at the memory.

“Okay, I may have apparated to our little flat above the shop where he was at the time after you fell asleep the night that you told me.” He pouted, looking for forgiveness from you.

You had to stifle your giggles when the doctor knocked on the door to let you know that she was entering.

“Good afternoon Y/N,” she smiled at you as she pulled out the contraption for looking at the baby’s growing form. “I see you have Fred Weasley with you again.”

The last appointment, he may or may not have dropped a dung bomb that made its way into his jacket pocket accidentally on their way out.

“Hello there, Dr. Woodson,” Fred grimaced. “Good to see you again. Don’t worry, I double checked my pockets before coming this time.”

“Very good,” your doctor nodded curtly. “Well then, let’s get started, shall we?”

Your doctor talked you through the images that you and Fred saw on the screen. “Your baby is now about the size of a pomegranate seed since you’re in the 6th week,” she finished. You sat and watched in awe. The baby was so much bigger than just a few weeks ago when you were in for the first visit that confirmed your pregnancy. “Do you have any questions for me?” Dr. Woodson asked at the end of the appointment.

You shook your head, already having read all about it in the pregnancy books you had bought a few weeks earlier. Fred was the one to pipe up. “So, my brother’s wife was pregnant a year ago or so, and she got really, really cranky. Is my wife going to do that too?”

“Fred?!” you scoffed, playfully slapping him in the arm.

“You see, it’s already starting a little bit and I was just wondering how bad it will actually get.” He continued ignoring you.

Your doctor chuckled slightly before she stood up with your charts in hand. “It was good to see you both again. Y/N, you can schedule your next appointment at the front desk on your way out. Send me an owl if you have any questions or concerns.”

After saying goodbye, Fred helped you off the chair, even though he didn’t have to, and you dressed back into your clothes that were not yet maternity wear, but starting to get a little snug in some areas.

“All ready, love?” he asked after you dressed.

“Let’s go.”

Month 3

“Are you ready?” Fred asked as you stood at the door of his childhood home. He was grinning from ear to ear. Today was the day that the two of you had decided to tell his family about the baby. You told your parents a few days earlier and they couldn’t be happier, but that was two people. Now it was time to face Fred’s parents, six siblings, and all of their significant others.

“Very ready,” you smiled back. Fred had been sitting on the edge of his seat for nearly a month whenever you visited. It was the end of your third month and therefore an appropriate time to start telling the family.

“Mum! We’re here!” Fred called out as he opened the door.

“OHHH! Y/N, Fred! Welcome. I’m so happy you both could make it!”

“We always come for Sunday night dinner, Mrs. Weasley,” you laughed while being buried into one of her notorious bear hugs.

“Woah there, mum. Don’t want to crush Y/N and our-” Fred cut himself off before he let the word ‘baby’ slip. Luckily, Molly was a blur around the house that she hadn’t even noticed. After giving Fred a quick hug, she called up to the rest of the family and feet began stampeding down the stairs.

“Wow, it is getting a little crowded in here,” you laughed as you hugged Ginny, Hermione, George, Ron, Harry and then Bill, Charlie, Fleur and little Victoire. “Even Teddy is here!” you smiled as you hugged the 3 year old with bright blue hair.

“The more the merrier is our motto!” Arthur Weasley boomed as he came into the kitchen as well.

“It’s a good thing that you think that way, dad!” Fred beamed, sharing a quick glance with George. At this rate, the family was going to learn the news before everyone even sat down for dinner.

Pre-dinner chats ensued and then Mrs. Weasley called them all from the living room to the table. That’s when she started handing out the wine. She had decided it was a special occasion because EVERYONE was at dinner. Bill and Fleur were in France the previous week and Charlie was back from Romania for a period of time. Even Percy managed to pull himself away from his busy work life. You looked at Fred with a small, close lipped smile, letting him know that it’s time to spill the news. Everyone would find out soon enough when you refused the wine.

You took your seat next to Fred with Ginny on your other side, leaning into Fred as he wrapped his arm around you and kissed your temple. Then, he cleared his throat to get the 12 other people’s attention.

“I’d like to make a toast,” he announced, raising his glass. “I can’t imagine this night being any better. Spending time with my amazing family, the extensions included,” he nodded to Harry, Hermione, and Fleur. “It’s a big family, but it’s about to get a little bigger. Currently a plum size bigger.” You nudged Fred slightly. He had been making fun of you for announcing which food your baby’s size matched each week.

“Oi, cut to the chase down there. I can’t hold it in for much longer! I’m bursting at the seams over here!” George hollered from the other end of the table.

Your smile grew as you made eye contact with Molly. You could tell she already knew what Fred was going to say, but was letting him break the news.

“Y/N and I are pregnant!” Fred’s signature grin was plastered on his face and you didn’t think that he’d been wiping it off anytime soon.

“This is brilliant!” Ginny cheered as she wrapped an arm around you. “I get to be an aunt, again!” she smiled at Victoire.

“Victoire,” Fleur got the little girl’s attention. “Yoo are going to be a couzin to a ittle boy or girl. Eesn’t zis exciting?”

“Ronald and I can babysit whenever you need a break,” Hermione offered, Ron nodding along, even though he wasn’t too sure if he wanted to be with a baby around his fiancé just yet.

The congratulations and excitement lasted all through dinner. By the end, Bill and Fleur offered you Victoire’s baby clothes if you had a girl, Arthur said he could fix up the cradle they used for all their children, Molly had already started knitting a little hat and bootie set. It was crazy and chaotic, but you loved every second of it. This was your wild family now and the wild family that your baby would get to grow up with.

Month 4

You paced around your flat with a hand on your forehead and one on your stomach. You had just gotten back from your appointment, the high of telling the Weasley family about the pregnancy two nights ago still lingering. Of course, once you went to see Dr. Woodson, the feeling changed.

“Oh, that’s interesting,” Dr. Woodson had said as she ran her wand over your stomach to look at the baby.

“What?” you asked. She’d never said anything like that before.

“It seems we may have missed something.” She pulled an image up. “Normally we would catch this earlier, but see that there.” She pointed and you nodded. “Well, there appears to be a second fetus and a second heartbeat that I must have missed before. Y/N Weasley, you are having twins!”

Laying down on the couch, you thought about what having twins would mean. Two of everything really. Fred and George’s shop was doing great again and they were acquiring Zonko’s in Hogsmeade too, so money wouldn’t technically be an issue. But, twins! They could be a little Fred and George exactly and that would be a handful. The doctor never said that they were identical necessarily, so you could have a boy and a girl.

“Honey! I’m hoooome!” Fred sang opening the door.

“With your favorite brother-in-law!” George sang after him.

Both twins sat grocery bags on the table. “What’s all this?” you asked, mind still focused on the news you got earlier in the day.

“We have decided to cook you dinner!” George said triumphantly.

You looked at the identical faces that stood before you, both grinning at you. “Fred, we’re having twins!” you blurted out at them, not able to hold it in any longer. Fred dropped the bag he was still holding, apples and oranges rolling all over the floor.

“Twins.” He said, eyes glazed over, looking past you and at the wall, where the onesie that you gave him the day you told him you were pregnant was hanging.

“You’re going to have a mini Fred and I?!” George squealed in excitement. He shook Fred’s shoulders, bringing him back to the present.

“That we are!” you smiled, appreciating the enthusiasm. “Well maybe, we could have girls, or a girl and a boy. We won’t know until the end of next month,” you explained, rambling.

That’s when Fred went into total care mode. “Do you need to sit down? You should be sitting down. Mum always complained about what Georgie and I did to her body and how hard carrying twins was.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at him. “Freddie,” you giggled, “maybe YOU should sit down!”

“Yes, perhaps I shall, love.” Fred plopped down onto the couch as you went into the kitchen to grab him a cup of water. “Twins, wow.” You heard him breathe out in the living room.

“He is happy about it, just processing,” George whispered to you as he started to put your groceries away.

“I know,” you smiled, “he is going to make a great dad!”

Month 5

Your stomach was really bulging at this point. Two little ones growing in there. You were beyond excited as you slid on a maternity dress with sunflowers plastered all over it. It had become your favorite dress, comfortable, stretchy, it had pockets. But, today, you put it on for your gender reveal party. Originally, you and Fred were going to wait and be surprised by the sex of the babies, but Molly and even George changed your minds.

They agreed that once they received the news, Dr. Woodson would write the genders on pieces of paper, seal them in an envelope, and send them with an owl to Molly. Now, you were getting ready for that party. You were more going along with Fred when you originally said you’d wait to find out the sexes, but now you were giddy!

“Love, are you ready? Everyone is downstairs,” Fred knocked on his childhood door as he opened to take in the room that hadn’t changed in years. You followed Fred down the stairs, him holding your hand the whole way to ensure that you didn’t trip down the stairs. He may be loud, boisterous, and reckless usually, but since he learned about the twins, he treated you as if you were a china doll, it was so sweet.

“Surprise!” a hoard of people called when you exited the Burrow. The Weasleys had completely decked out their yard on the spring evening. Twinkle lights flooded the area with light as the sun set to the west. Luna Lovegood and Neville Longbottom had brought in tons of flowers that surrounded the tables. All the pinks and blues were bright as can be, signifying the news that was about to be shared with everyone, even the parents.

“Merlin! It’s beautiful! Thank you,” you beamed, taking in as much of the yard at once as possible.

The party was a blast. Blue and pink food. Cute little presents left out with yellows and greens. Tons of little Gryffindor attire, even though you’d be okay with your children being in any of the houses. But the time for the reveal drew closer.

“Y/N, Fred. Stand here,” Molly ordered them. “George is out back setting everything up.”

You were shaking with excitement. Your family and Fred’s family all held sparklers that lit the darkness. The colors reflected off of your and Fred’s skin. He glanced over at you and whispered, “You’ve been glowing this whole time, but you’re really glowing now,” before leaning down and kissing your cheek.

“Everyone ready?” George called from behind the hedge. “3…2…1!”

The sky exploded with fireworks of blue and pink. Your hand flew to your mouth as you took in the sight. “We’re getting a little boy AND a little girl, Freddie,” you laughed, happy to now know. Fred hugged you tightly, leaving just enough room for your protruding belly.

“We’re having a boy and a girl,” he repeated, grinning ear to ear. Everyone let the two of you have your moment before flooding you with hugs and congratulations.

Month 6

“Psssst, Freddie.” You whispered, peaking at the clock quickly. It read 1:30 AM…oops.

“Yes, love,” Fred whispered as he yawned before turning over and lazily slinging an arm over your body.

“I’m hungry…” you said, big, pouty, pleading eyes already in place as Fred opened one of his. “Will you pleeeeease get me some chocolate covered strawberries and the cheesiest nachos you can find?”

“That is the strangest combination that I have ever heard.” Fred grunted as he pushed the blankets down. “You sure you can eat both of those things?”

So far, you had found that you could no longer even look at any kind of fish, tuna was WAY out of the question, the smell of tomatoes made you gag, and turkey was a big no go. In fact, most meat was starting to make you queasy and you could only eat it sometimes.

“It’s what I’m craving, so I think so?”

“Sounds good, love. I’ll be right back.” Fred threw on some pants and a jacket and apparated out of the flat. You laid back in your bed, feeling extremely content as you pulled the blankets up to your chin just to throw them off. You’d been going from freezing to feeling like a million degrees every few minutes.

That familiar pop could be heard as Fred brought the food to you in bed. “Nachos and chocolate covered strawberries for my beautiful, glowing wife. We can never go back to the Spanish restaurant on the corner or the market next to it ever again. You don’t want to know how angry the owners were when I woke them up.”

You had already dug into the food before Fred could undress and get back into bed again. “Are you going to save me any?” he chuckled, sliding back into the sheets.

“Yes, you can have some.” You told him, mouth full and chocolate dribbling down your chin.

“Let me run to the loo before I go to bed again,” Fred told you, getting up once more. By the time he walked back into the room, you were there fast asleep, box of chocolate covered strawberries on one side and box of nachos on the other. Fred couldn’t stop laughing as he picked up the open food and wiped off your face before kissing your forehead and pulling you close to him.

Month 7

“FRED!! It’s so hot!” you complained. You could feel the sweat sliding down every inch of your body and you felt disgusting. You felt huge and being pregnant was not fun anymore. You were big, couldn’t move easily, and your ankles had swollen to three times their normal size.

In the July heat, you just felt terrible.

“Let me get you another fan and some lemonade.” Fred offered.

“I’m sorry I’ve been so cranky with you,” you apologized to Fred when he came to sit back down next to you, handing you a glass of lemonade.

“You have every right to be cranky with me,” he smiled, kissing the side of your head as he had been doing so often now. “You’re carrying my babies. Speaking of which, we should come up with some names. It could be fun!”

You took a deep breath, trying to relax on the couch. “Yes, let’s do that!” Fred had already begun preparing the nursery and Molly and Fleur had sent over hordes of clothes. Planning was tiring you out, as fun and cute as it was, so maybe brainstorming names would be a blast.

“Now, George thinks we should name at least one of them after him. If we did that, we should name the girl Georgia because I think George would throw a fit if the girl was actually named after him. And then the boy could be Fred Jr.”

You looked dead eyed at Fred, not thinking his ‘joke’ was funny. “We are not making, no excuse me, forcing our twins to be mini-yous. Nope, not happening. Veto, next.”

“Okay, geez,” Fred chuckled as he took your hand in his own, knowing you would complain about being hot if he put his arm fully around you.

“Mhmmmm,” you thought out loud. “What about Andrew for the boy. You know, for my brother? I’d like to honor him after losing him 2 years ago in the war.”

“I think that would be nice,” Fred smiled softly at you. “Andrew it is. Andrew Weasley has a good ring to it. We can call him Drew for short too.”

“I think so too,” you agreed.

“Now, for a girl, this is a serious suggestion,” Fred prepared you. “Olivia. I’ve always liked that name.” he played with your fingers.

“Andrew and Olivia Weasley. I think it could work. That was much easier than I thought it was!” You laughed with joy.

“Fred, Y/N, Andrew, and Olivia. Our little family. You like your new names, kids?” Fred spoke to your stomach.

Month 8

“Nope, do not get out of bed!” Fred ordered after you tried to get out of bed. “Doctor’s orders. Plus, Mum is already here.”

Molly Weasley had been coming to your flat nearly every other day to help you and Fred around the house. Dr. Woodson placed you on bed rest the previous week and it was complete AGONY.

“But, Freddie, there is so much we still have to do. I can help.”

“Nope, George and I have it covered. Plus you know the rest of the family will help with whatever we need. You just sit here and rest. Liv and Drew are still growing in there.”

“Yes they are,” you giggled, rubbing your stomach. “I swear they were wrestling in there last night! They were being so active! Kicking and moving around. If these two fight during their entire childhoods, we will be in for some rough years!”

“I bet they will be best friends,” Fred smiled. “Look at Georgie and I! And, if they have any younger siblings in the future, they can team up against them.”

“I should hope not!” you scoffed. Your banter settled as Molly hurried into the room with a breakfast tray.

“Mum will take good care of you today and Ginny mentioned stopping by later, okay?” Fred told you as he kissed you goodbye. “I won’t be too late tonight. Everyone on Diagon Alley seems to know that you’re expecting, so even though business is booming, the shop is ready to be closed at closing!

“Sounds good, dear.” You replied, pushing the eggs to the side. You forgot to tell Molly that you weren’t eating those now because of the babies.

“I’ll take those for you,” Fred chuckled, eating your eggs, sipping some water, and kissing you one more time before leaving. “Have a good day!”

“Bye, hun,” you giggled again as she left. At least you had the company of all the Weasley guests throughout the days when he was gone.

Month 9

“They’re due any day, Freddie!” You squealed. You had attempted to jump a little, but that just made you have to pee, so you stopped that immediately. “When they get here, we can hold them all the time and I’ll be able to move freely!”

You had secretly begun doing the things that you hoped would speed along the delivery date. You were eating spicy foods, walking around when no one was watching you and forcing you back to bed, drinking raspberry tea, everything! Well, not everything. You had try to convince Fred to have sex with you the night before, but he refused. Said it was weird with two babies in there, even though you looked beautiful and he would love to.

You had just rolled your eyes at him in response, but you did try!

“You going to come out soon, little ones?” You asked your stomach. “At least one perk of being so large is that I can sit the box of chocolate covered strawberries on my stomach.” You hummed happily, eating another one of the treats that had been your favorites during your pregnancy.

You had eaten them so many times that Molly just started making them regularly for you so that Fred didn’t have to go buy them at all hours of the day randomly.

“Can I come to Diagon Alley with you today?” you asked hopefully. “I need to get out of this house. Everything is ready and I’ve been cooped up for too long.”

Fred stood there thinking, but you pleaded some more, getting him to finally give in. “Only if you promise to not walk around too much.”

“I promise! I’ll sit at Florean’s the whole time!” You drew and X over your heart to seal the promise.

You breathed in the air deeply as you took in the atmosphere of the Alley. The newer owners of the ice cream shop brought you more ice cream each time that you asked for some and whenever you tried to pay, they refused. Yet another perk of being pregnant.

Numerous people had walked by and chatted with you while Fred was at the shop and he came by every so often to check on you. It was a pleasant day. That was until an excruciating pain occurred in your stomach.

“Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh,” you whined, hands immediately holding your stomach. “Excuse me,” you pulled one of the waiters aside. “Would you run down to the joke shop and get my husband, please?”

The trip to St. Mungo’s was a blur. Fred was holding your hand the entire way, helping you into your hospital gown, and just being an overall sweetheart as per usual. Molly Weasley and your mum filtered in and out of the room. It wasn’t until Dr. Woodson announced that just those going into the delivery room could stay that the chaos slowed. Even if it was just you and Fred in the room, you knew that every single Weasley and Y/L/N was in the waiting room and would be until your two children entered the world.

Four hours later, you had finished pushing, you had finished working your body to exhaustion. Four hours later, you held two little babies in your arms and they were beautiful. Fred’s smile was so wide and he was so proud as he took Andrew from you and then Olivia.

“You did beautifully, darling,” he whispered, looking at the two children in his arms. The tears were still streaming down your face, stupid post-birth hormones. “Are you ready for the family? They’ll come back in small groups.” You nodded laying your head back on the pillows. It was September 8th. The day your little family had its first addition of many.

You could see the little heads of Olivia and Drew peaking over the blankets as different family members held them. Their hair was strawberry red, just like your favorite snack.

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lynnsfics · 4 years ago

Text

Make Me

Pairing: Spot Conlon x Reader

Request: Can I get a Spot Conlon x reader with #3 and #21 from the first prompt list please? If it’s not any trouble Prompts: “Who do you think you are? The Queen of England?” and “I’m (First Name) fucking (Last Name)”

Word Count: Approx. 1.6k

TW: mentions of blood, knives

~~~

The morning bell sounded, waking you from your dreams. “Damn that Kelly,” you muttered. He didn’t even have the courtesy to wake you up to get your papers on time. To be fair, he had been waking you up everyday that week and he threatened to stop if you didn’t get more sleep. You didn’t actually expect him to make good on that promise, though.

With a sigh, you decided that if you rushed, you could make it to Weasel’s in time to grab some papes. You just had to hope all your regulars hadn’t gone to someone else already. After getting dressed quickly, you began to head out the door of the lodging house. Unfortunately, you weren’t watching where you were going and smacked straight into someone.

That really ticked you off. “Hey, watch where youse is walking,” you snapped, “some of us got places to be.”

The boy rolled his eyes, “Who d’ya think you are? The Queen of England?”

“No, even better.” you said cooly before introducing yourself.

He crossed his arms, unfazed. “Where’s Kelly, I’ve got a message for him.”

“Do I look like I knows where Kelly is? Not my job to look after him.” When he sighed, clearly annoyed, you relented a bit. “You can wait for him or pass the message along to me. I’ll make sure he gets it.”

“Jus’ tell him that I need to see him. We need to talk about the terms of selling on the Brooklyn Bridge.”

You nodded, “And you are?”

He blinked in surprise, taken aback. Clearly no one ever had the audacity to ask him before. “Ya seriously don’t know me?”

You shook your head, confused. It wasn’t as if you could be expected to memorize everyone’s name. “Sorry, no.”

“I’m Spot fucking Conlon,” he said, his confusion evident in his tone. “The King of Brooklyn? Is any of that ringin’ a bell?”

You felt a chill go down your spine. So this was the famous Spot Conlon, and you just insulted him to his face. Nice one. You’d be lucky if you didn’t get soaked right now. You decided an apology was the way to go in this situation. “I’m sorry, I didn’t-.”

He cut you off. “Youse didn’t know? Clearly. Jus’ don’t forget it again, got it?”

You nodded, suddenly feeling self conscious. “Next time I see Jack I’ll give him your message,” you stated quickly. “I’d best be off, I don’t want to be the last one out sellin’.” With that you were off, Once you thought you were far enough away, you breathed a sigh of relief.

It wasn’t often that you became flustered so easily, but there was something about him that made you feel nervous. You walked up to Weasel’s counter, still seeing a few papes left. “I’ll take twenty papes,” you said to Oscar.

“What’s the magic word?” he questioned.

Pretending to ponder it for a moment, you grinned. “I’m not sure, how about ‘screw off’?” Placing down your coin, you grabbed your stack of papers. Walking about you shook your head. “Magic word,” you chuckled to yourself, “what an idiot.”

Hearing someone call your name, you turned back around. “Watch your back,” Oscar threatened, “the others won’t always be around to protect ya’.”

You rolled your eyes. Once again, a Delancey was making an empty threat. “Sure Oscar, I’m real scared.” Turning, you walked out the gate and into the square. It wasn’t as crowded as usual and you felt a tug of panic.

If you couldn’t sell all your papes today you may not be able to stay at the lodging house for much longer. The city streets were dangerous enough at night, and for a girl it was twice as treacherous.

Taking a quick look at the headline you began to feel hopeful. It was a good one today, thank the Heavens. “Vice President Hobart dead! Power crisis looms!”

It didn’t take long for more than half of your papers to sell. You grinned to yourself, it wouldn't be too hard to finish selling and head home early. Well, as soon as you found Kelly and gave him Spot’s message.

As afternoon rolled around, clouds began to cover the sun. You sighed, praying it wouldn’t rain, or worse, snow. Finally, you sold your last paper, at a higher rate than usual, since you were one of the last newsies still out. Clutching your money, you breathed a sigh of relief. You thankfully had enough to stay at the lodging house for the time being

It was starting to get dark, but you decided to try and find Jack before heading back to the house. He never returned early when it could be avoided, instead wandering the streets coming up with new selling angles.

You began to walk towards the theatre. Even if Jack wasn’t there, Medda may have seen him. A few streets away from the play house, you heard someone call your name. You looked around, but couldn’t see anymore. Shrugging it off as exhaustion, you kept walking. It was only after you heard it again that you stopped.

“Who’s there?” You pulled a small pocket knife out of your bag, hoping any potential attacker would see it and back off.

Two figures stepped forward from a nearby darkened alleyway. Oscar and Morris Delancey. You quickly recalled Oscar’s statement that morning and felt your heart sink in fear. It seems he was right after all.

“I heard youse was disrespecting my brother,” Morris said, “and ya’ see, I can’t allow that.”

Deciding to not wallow in fear, you put up a brave front. “Would you rather I’s insult you, Morris? I’m sure I could come up with somethin’.”

He took a step forward, “Why you little…” Morris swung his fist forward and you ducked down, narrowly missing the shot. In your haste do so, however, you ended up dropping your knife. Oscar shoved you backwards, and you stumbled.

“Shit,” you muttered. You felt your back hit a wall, and you knew you were cornered. A sharp pain shot through your shoulder and you used all your strength to not cry out in pain. This would be the worst moment to show weakness. With a quick motion, you brought your heel down on Morris’ foot. He staggered backward and you moved away from the wall.

As soon as you did, you saw a stone fly through the air, hitting Morris on the forehead. Leaning against the wall, he cussed under his breath. You risked a quick look around, trying to find who it was that saved you. In that moment, Oscar saw his chance.

“You’ll pay for this,” he growled, moving towards you.

“No, she won’t,” you heard a voice say. From out of the shadows came the person you least expected to see. Spot Conlon stood between you and Oscar. “Youse really want to go through with this fight?” he asked with a smirk.

“Now youse both going to pay for this,” he spat. In one fluid motion, he grabbed your knife off the ground. Oscar lunged forward, swinging the blade wildly. It made contact with Spot’s arm and he cussed. Oscar laughed and stepped back. “Told ‘ya.” He tried to attack again, but before he could Spot blocked him, grabbing his arm and twisting it back.

Oscar dropped the knife, and it clattered to the ground. Using his other arm, Spot swung his fist, making contact with Oscar’s face. “Now you and your brother here are going to leave and never bother this girl again. Got it?”

Oscar nodded weakly before taking off. Morris, still recovering from the stone, slowly limped after his brother.

“Thank you,” you said quietly, once the Delancey’s were out of sight.

“I had to do somethin’,” Spot replied modestly. Your gaze shifted to the cut on his arm, and you gasped. It was worse than you thought.

“I can help with your arm,” you said hesitantly, “if you want.” He nodded in response, leaning against the alley wall. Pulling a small roll of bandages out of your bag, you knelt next to him. “It may sting a little,” you warned.

Spot winced as you began bandaging his arm. “Why were they even after ya’ in the first place?”

“I may’ve talked back to them this morning,” you answered, thinking back to the incident.

“Is that a habit of yours? Because you seem t’be quite good at it.”

“Real funny,” you said rolling your eyes. You finished wrapping the bandage. “How’s your arm feeling?”

“It would be better if I didn’t just get stabbed,” he said with a wry laugh.

“To be fair, it was your decision to join the fight,” you replied jokingly.

“Well, to be completely fair, I wouldn’t have made that decision if I hadn’t seen ya’ get hurt.”

“To be truly fair,” you countered, “I was only here to find Kelly to give him your message.”

A look of guilt flashed briefly across his face, but he quickly hid it. “Shut up,” he said with a chuckle.

You smirked. “Make me.” Not even a second later his lips were on yours. After the initial shock, you kissed back. He tangled his fingers in your hair and you smiled into the kiss.

When you finally broke apart, you felt breathless. “I’ve wanted to do that since I met you this morning,” he whispered. “But I also wanted to ask, would you,” he paused, “would you want to go out with me sometime?”

You smiled and nodded, “Yes, yes I would.” With that, he pulled you back in for another soft kiss.

~~~

Requested By: @teddy06

Spot deserves so much more appreciation I swear. Let me know if you want ot be added to my taglist and as always, likes and reblogs are appreciated! Love you all! <3

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peterparkerstarker · 5 years ago

Text

Better Soon

ngl, this is me working through all my feelings about my own recent breakup, i’m pretty dang proud of this as fic in general, and it was really cathartic to write out

cw/tw: Starker, Peter is in college, post breakup feels/angst

The hardest thing about the breakup, Peter realized, were the things that caught him off guard.

He’d go hours, days even, without thinking too hard about it, and then something would smack him in the face with memories and he’d feel that wound, fresh and stinging all over again.

He’d done all the right things at first, had unfollowed but not unfriended Tony on social media, blocked his web browser from showing any articles that mentioned him, tried his best to create some space for himself to not be bombarded by Tony’s image and memory.

He’d done everything he was supposed to do to heal after a break up he’d never wanted. But how the hell was he supposed to escape Tony Stark when Iron Man was everywhere?

He’d retreated back to his apartment in Queens with Aunt May, the Avengers compound too full of memories and reminders, but he found that his room was crammed full of things that made his heart clench every time he saw them.

Tickets to the Dodgers game that Tony and Steve had taken him to, pinned on his bulletin board next to a poster about a lecture Tony had given 3 years ago at MIT, before any of this had started. An old tie that they'd left haphazardly on the floor, unfashioned too roughly from Tony's neck after the gala they’d gone to last month. And about a million other things on top of that.

He’d tried to coexist with it at first, had hoped that if he didn’t disturb the items, didn’t box them up like he knew he ought to, that it wouldn’t actually be real, that maybe they’d still get back together. He knew it was in vain, but he hoped.

They hadn’t texted since that night, hadn’t exchanged one goofy selfie, or good morning text, or a single update about how their day was.

It felt like a whole chunk of his life was ripped out, his phone silent and boring. Ned and MJ and May and the other Avengers had all tried to check in on him, all tried to support him through this. But he found himself resenting their messages of well wishes and support. He wanted his phone to chime with a text from Tony. Wanted an apology for making the biggest mistake of his life. A desperate plea for forgiveness.

But instead he had nothing from him for 5 days.

And it ate him up inside.

He found himself searching for Tony’s name online, wanting to find signs of the man missing him. But each time he scrolled through Twitter and Instagram, his heart broke just a little more.

There was nothing for the first couple days. That had made sense. Peter got the sense that Tony hadn’t told a lot of people about ending things. And besides, they were never able to be very public online, the potential for public backlash and scrutiny too high for them to risk in their newly budding romance.

It had made sense at the time. But now it hurt that no one beside his closest friends really knew.

He didn’t want to be dramatic and childish by broadcasting his heartbreak all over Facebook, but it hurt that all these acquaintances from high school and distant relatives thought he was fine, that everything was smooth sailing as usual. It hurt that none of them really knew.

And then, after a few days of obsessively checking and breathing a sigh of relief that there were no new posts, he started seeing signs of activity. Likes on their mutual friends posts, comments here or there, Tony posting a meme onto his story and a selfie on Snapchat.

The world kept turning, and Tony was moving on.

But Peter’s heart broke all over with each self-sabotaging click on Tony’s name.

Peter tried to keep a level head. Knew that whatever he posted would speak volumes about how well he was handling this to everyone in the know. So he posted once or twice a day, sometimes a selfie with a vague but positive caption, reblogged a funny post about Steve's hair.

He wanted to prove he was doing okay to the outside world, but especially to Tony, if he was seeing Peter's posts. He didn’t know if it actually worked, and he was too scared to ask.

He knew it wasn’t healthy, this compulsion to check on Tony’s Snap story or make sure he hadn’t unfollowed Peter on Instagram, but it was all he had. The last tangible connection to the life he’d been building with Tony. And as much as it tore him open each time and salted the inflamed skin, he couldn’t stop.

Deep down he didn’t think he wanted to stop, he wasn’t ready to let go.

The first message from Tony in nearly a week had been practically transactional, about exchanging their items.

He’d cried that night, suppressed sobs that wrenched from his aching lungs and chest, trying to stay quiet enough to not wake up May and worry her.

But he’d eventually pulled himself together and dutifully packed up Tony’s items, the five months of their relationship together fitting neatly into one medium sized box. It felt kind of nice, actually, to fold up each sweater or undershirt and say goodbye to yet another piece of Tony.

But it also felt so pathetic, how little space Tony's things took up in his tiny bedroom when he put them all together. He said goodbye silently to them, and kept it together the rest of the afternoon, smiling and chatting with May, pretending that he wasn’t bleeding inside from the pain of it all.

And then he’d broken down on his way to the subway; a poster of Tony on a gigantic billboard that caught him off guard, made him feel like he couldn’t breathe, couldn’t stop feeling the knife digging in deeper and deeper. It was mortifying, and no one on the crowded sidewalk gave him a second glance, let alone stopped to ask him if he was okay, they were all too busy with their own thoughts. No one cared that his life was burning down around him.

Eventually he pulled himself together once more, got on the subway, and rode it to the stop he knew so well. He felt numb, but that was better than feeling everything, numb was better than the gut wrenching loss he’d been living with for 6 days now.

At least he hoped it was.

God, he really hoped it was.

And then he finally saw Tony, coming down into the lobby of his building. It was the first time he’d seen the man since that night, when he’d sat with Peter on his tiny bed in Queens and told him he didn’t see a future with him and that he wanted to cut things off before it went any further.

Peter knew Tony had tried to do the right thing, tried to respect Peter enough to not lead him on any more than he already had. But it didn’t stop it from hurting. Didn’t stop Peter from feeling numb when he laid eyes on Tony now.

He’d awkwardly handed off the box to him, and Tony invited him up to the penthouse to collect his boxes. Of course he had more stuff to lug back home than he’d brought. He’d spent practically all his time at the tower, Tony's bed was nicer, and it was close to his university.

It had made sense at the time.

They stopped in the hallway, Tony asked him about some mundane television show that was suddenly popular and for a very brief moment, it felt like old times, like they were just Tony and Peter, catching up after a long day and about to go grab dinner.

It felt nice... comfortable even, and he found his hope rising like the traitor it was, but it was over all too soon, and suddenly Tony was helping him carry the second box down stairs and out to a car he’d called for Peter. Peter cracked a bad joke that rang too true for the pain he was feeling and he winced, embarrassed and angry at himself for not playing it cool. They awkwardly wished each other a good night and that was it, the culmination of 5 months of his life with Tony.

He cried on the way home, tears slipping fat and wet from his face as he called Ned and began to sob.

And now it was weeks later, Peter still didn’t quite know how to function with this Tony shaped hole in his life. He still felt the whiplash of seeing something that reminded him of a good memory together, still felt the compulsion to look him up online, but he tried his best to resist.

Most days it didn’t work, but it was getting incrementally easier to handle the wave of panic that hit each time he saw something that proved Tony was moving on, was leaving him and the love he thought they’d shared behind.

He missed being touched.

Sometimes he wanted to be fucked senseless, to not feel any of the feelings he couldn’t shove down.

Sometimes he just wanted to be held and caressed and loved in the way only a boyfriend could.

Most of the time he just missed not feeling alone. Nights were the hardest, too quiet and hardly anyone awake to chat with and keep his mind occupied. Nights had been their time, and it still hurt most then,

He didn’t know when he’d be okay, be at peace with it. But he was still trying, still trying to be kind to himself and to the people who loved him. He was still trying to be better everyday. He hoped it would get better soon, he really missed the bubblegum feeling of being happy and in love.

He hoped he would get better soon, he deserved to be happy, he kept reminding himself.

Peter was so grateful for the people in his life who listened and encouraged him, so glad to be feeling a little better each day, but it was the little things that caught him off guard and made him feel sad and alone all over again. It would get better soon, he told himself.

He truly hoped it would get better soon.

#starker #breakup #angst #my fic #my writing

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greekedtext · 5 years ago

Text

if you live in America and are not on Twitter, you probably have a distorted view of what’s going on here right now

The situation is chaotic, so it’s hard to get an accurate picture. I’ve been sifting through... A LOT of different sources, checking who’s saying what, reviewing footage to see if it shows what I’m being told it shows.

Most protesters are peaceful. Most protesters are peaceful.

They turned out last week to protest racist violence and the fact that police engage in violence with impunity. The police are not out there for crowd control, public safety, or even protecting storefronts. They are counterprotesters demonstrating their perceived right to engage in violence with impunity.

Over the past days, I have watched so many videos from across the country showing over and over that the police are using unnecessary, indiscriminate violence to turn peaceful situations tense and tense situations violent. Their actions range from mild (shoving people with riot control shields) to concerning (spraying tear gas, an agent that causes coughing, in the midst of a pandemic that affects the respiratory system) to wanton (accelerating their SUVs into crowds) to gratuitously cruel (yanking down a teen’s face mask in order to pepper spray him right in the eyes even though he was simply standing there with his hands up).

Police have maced and tear gassed children at protests, like the nine year-old girl in Seattle. They’ve done the same to uninvolved bystanders who were just trying to walk home. In Salt Lake City, an old man at a bus stop couldn’t hobble away fast enough, so they knocked him down. In Minneapolis after curfew, troops fired rubber bullets / teargas at people who were on their own porches and balconies, because curfew. In another city, they stopped a civilian car, tased the people of color inside, and dragged them out for arrest on live news camera. Oh, also on live camera in Minneapolis they arrested a CNN correspondent and his crew, and many other journalists have been targeted with rubber bullets.

Rubber bullets sound kind of cute and cartoony, don’t they?

There’s no such thing as a non-lethal weapon, just less-lethal weapons. Rubber bullets are big hunks of metal jacketed in rubber. They’re supposed to be fired at the ground so that most of a bullet’s momentum can be harmlessly absorbed before it ricochets up and hits you in the legs. Used this way, they still bruise. They’re meant to hurt you enough to get you moving in the direction police want you to go. And you’d think that police are only supposed to use them when a crowd is already out of control or refusing to move, but that’s not what’s happening here.

Remember that CNN correspondent? His name is Omar Jimenez, and you can Google this: The police surrounded him and his crew. He very politely and deferentially asked them where they would like his crew to go. They didn’t respond despite Jimenez asking several times. Then they arrested them and led them away; all the while, Jimenez and the crew cooperated and calmly asked why they were being arrested, to which they initially received no answer. The police informed CNN that the arrest was made because Jimenez and his crew “refused to move.”

Surround. Give no directions, or make it impossible to follow directions. Arrest for failure to follow directions.

This is the same tactic that they’re using against crowds. They raise bridges or bring in barriers (”kettling”) to ensure protesters can’t leave. Then they arrest people for refusing to leave. Sometimes they fire teargas and/or rubber bullets at a crowd to drive them into a kettling situation. Sometimes they do it after the crowd is already kettled. The curfews? An excuse to arrest everybody on the street. Pay attention to when they’re announcing a curfew with little or no lead time. My city keeps claiming that essential workers are allowed to go to and from work even when a curfew is on, but would you bet cash money that no workers are getting swept up and arrested?

Journalists then report this as “protests turned violent” or “protesters clash with police.” Local authorities claim that the protesters are all or almost all outside agitators, from out of state, and journalists repeat this without (it seems) even asking themselves if that sounds plausible.

This is why Americans don’t know what’s going on.

(We should be skeptical of claims about outside agitators because it has a racist history. It is used to deny African-Americans of their agency in their own efforts to liberate themselves from white supremacy. On the other hand, to some unknown degree the protests are actually getting infiltrated by a) plainclothes LEOs possibly acting as agents provocateurs, b) white "allies” who mainly want to vandalize shit or start fights and don’t listen to the Black protesters who try to stop that crap, c) looters*, and d) white supremacists and other political opportunists**.)

All of the above is only a spoon-sized sample of what’s going on. You want more instances of police violence, you can find it. And all of these things have been happening for years, decades, generations. It’s not just Trump, though he certainly does bring out the worst in people, and his administration does like to loosen standards to enable the worst in people.

Yesterday morning (June 1, 2020), Trump called Putin. Then he called the governors of the states and basically told them to go to war against the American people. In the afternoon, he made a tough guy speech, calling himself the “law and order president,” promising he could fix it, promising to send the U.S. military into the states to establish order if the governors didn’t do it. While he was talking, you could hear people being teargassed and fired at with rubber bullets in the background. These were peaceful protesters in and near Lafayette Square. There was a water and medical station set up on the porch of St. John’s Episcopal church. The protesters and medics were driven away (again: with teargas, which causes coughing, in the middle of a pandemic) so that Trump could be seen posing in front of the church, holding up a Bible.

That church had no idea Trump was going to do that. Some of their clergy were at the medical station and got teargassed.

Please, please go read historian Heather Cox Richardson’s summary of yesterday, because there was more fuckery than I can summarize here: https://heathercoxrichardson.substack.com/p/june-1-2020

Law and order. “One law, one beautiful law.” I alone can fix it. We’ll use the military if the governors refuse to take action, “to protect the rights of law abiding Americans, including your second amendment rights.” Bible-waving. He fucking teargassed people for a photo-op.

In the middle of the night, the police herded hundreds of Washington, D.C. protesters into a residential neighborhood. The residents opened their doors for the protesters to take shelter. The police camped outside for hours, arresting anyone who came out. You may see accusations that protesters invaded people’s homes, but they didn’t -- they were invited. Some people are claiming police invaded people’s homes to get the protesters out, but I’m still looking for more information to substantiate that.

There are reliable reports that in addition to the National Guard and the regular military, ICE and CBP are being mobilized to “help.”

What they’ve done to D.C., they’re going to try to do in every city that has protests. What they’ve done to suspected undocumented immigrants, they’re going to try to do to all “rioters, looters, and antifa” -- which means anyone who opposes them.

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WHAT CAN WE DO?

1. Support #BlackLivesMatter. The bail funds have actually received a lot of money lately, which is great; if you can give, and if you know of a bail fund close to you that needs money for protesters, go ahead and give, but the next thing we need is money for mutual aid organizations, because in the next 5-21 days, a lot of people are going to get sick.

2. Look to experienced organizers for guidance. Follow African-American anti-racist activists, and if you’re white make sure you stay humble, don’t talk over them, listen to their ideas and directions, and do what they fucking say. If you’re white and you go out to protest, your job is to stay calm and be a human shield. Your whiteness can actually reduce police violence [note: it’s a risk -- you might be beaten or otherwise hurt and you could be arrested too]. If you start violence or vandalism, African-Americans are more likely to suffer for it.

3. There’s a lot to do if you can’t go out. Again, there’s a lot of organizing going on. For example, the Indivisibles are still organizing people to contact their elected representatives, and this is good and important work even though it may feel less direct than hitting the streets.

4. Make common cause with organizations that have beliefs different from yours.

This takes a bit of discernment. Maybe you’re ready to swear you’ll never call the police again; maybe you want to end incarceration (we do have the largest imprisoned population in the world and the highest per-capita incarceration rate.) Or maybe you’re concerned about police brutality and racism in our justice system but you can’t imagine a world without policing and prisons. If you’re in the latter group, make sure that the policing reforms you support are in alignment with the general goal of reducing budgets for police departments and shrinking our prison system.

We need a big movement. That means you can’t refuse to work with other organizations just because they aren’t in complete lockstep with you.

3. Reblog posts like these with your own ideas / information / good sources of trustworthy information.

When you’re deciding which suggestions to follow and which posts to reblog, make sure the information is coming from someone who knows what they’re talking about. I’m not a veteran of many protests, so I can’t give you good advice about how to stay safe out there. I could probably (in an abundance of confidence) fake up something that sounds plausible based on what I’ve read. That kind of thing is dangerous. Don’t write shit that doesn’t either come from your experience or that you can’t back up with links to folks who really know.

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* "Looters.” Yeah, remember when Congress promised to help with the economic crisis and then decided all we need is a one-time $1200 check and mmmmaybe some extra unemployment insurance? And remember when the House passed some more bills to help, but Republican Senate Majority Leader Mitch McConnell said they weren’t going to be doing any more of that and the important thing for the Senate to do right now was confirm more of Trump’s nominees for federal judicial appointments? You say “looters,” I say, “desperate angry people.”

** We all need to learn how to recognize Boogaloos, Neo-Nazis, and other far-right extremists on sight, because journalists are not always aware of who they’re talking to.

Boogaloos: https://www.independent.co.uk/news/world/americas/far-right-hawaiian-print-shirts-why-protesters-boogaloo-racist-a9539776.html

Anti-Defamation League’s Hate Symbols Database: https://www.adl.org/hate-symbols

#us politics #long post #protests

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likesomekindofcheese · 5 years ago

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Songbird of Jamestown Chapter 3 (Samuel Castell x fem! Reader

Summary: The year is 1620. You have arrived at the Jamestown colony along hoping for a new life, friendship, and possibly marriage. Falling in love with the already betrothed company recorder and gaining unexpected enemies wasn’t a part of the plan, though.

A/N: Checking this, it seems my writing got somehow deleted and I was not a happy camper!!! So here it is again!!

One scene of this chapter was inspired by a scene in @bluesfortheredj‘s masterpiece A Beautiful Mistake. So all credit goes to that work and its writer! Please read their work and give them all the love and support and reblogs!!! Here we start with a very lovely, sweet scene that includes some fluffy flower picking. Enjoy everyone! But the drama is just beginning and poor Reader is in for it soon...

Content Warning: brief physical abuse. Attempts at historical accuracy.

Word Count: 3122

“Alice! Are you sure?” you asked.

She shrugged and said, “I have to. I won’t be alone. No matter what I think I…I must do it. I’ll be back home soon to you.”

Home. Already this place that was her little shelter away from her trauma was her home. Not the place she was bound to. The place you now knew the family was in debt in order to have her.

She gave you a look that everything was alright, despite its tiredness and walked off with the family. You clenched your fists and stared until she had disappeared. Just to be sure.

Off to see the lands that she would have to manage soon. Lands that would support her.

Yet at what cost?

The next few hours were quite typical. Church dulled everyone. People turned to chatter and gossip and scatter as soon as that final amen boomed the white, wooden walls. Jocelyn walked out with her nice hat and clean cloak and walked before the many men of the council. She was like a shadow behind them as they walked into the courthouse and she had vanished. Nothing different.

But what was different was Samuel approaching you.

“Miss Y/L/N, have you, by chance, seen the field yet?” he questioned.

You shook your head and gave a slight bow, though propriety inside of you demanded you keep your eyes to his polished shoes, you kept looking up. At least while he was still free, you could enjoy what you saw.

“No, Master Castell, in between chores and church I have not,” you answer politely.

“Well, I have had some of my duties relieved and I have been gifted a free afternoon. Might I accompany you there? I know it’s nearby but…you may feel a little safer.” He suggested.

He even stretched out an arm for you to hold onto.

You nodded eagerly, took his arm, and walked by his side. A few townspeople looked up in a little bit of amazement. Samuel Castell walking in public next to a young woman who was not his servant.

Especially not his fiancée.

But you tried your best to ignore such squinted looks and enjoy how the sunshine felt on your cheeks and the slight green sea of grass beyond the gate.

It was a rare day in Virginia that did not feel burning compared to England. The field outside the gate was green as could be. Samuel pointed to the east and walked next to you. Soon enough, as he promised, near the woods, there were the promised flowers. Colors filled up your eyes, more colors than you could even imagine. Far more colors than England. Yellows. Reds. Whites. The greens and browns of the trees, grass, and soil.

In a few feet of walking, you spied the flowers. A whole, long crowd of them springing proudly up to that endless blue sky. You let go of his arm and raced out. A bit of childish cheering let out of you. But how long has it been since you had seen flowers?

“This land is rich in many things, not just gold,” he affirmed, calling out.

At once, you began to sit a little in the grass, picking up what you could eagerly. It felt like grabbing for bread. You brought a few yellow blooms to your face to take in that warm, earthy scent. You even spotted a small purple flower, as fragile and tiny but proud.

“Master Castell!” you said. You turned around where he had stood close by, merely watching under the shade of some trees.

You picked up the flower and brought it to him.

“I’ve never seen purple in a flower before!” you said happily.

“It’s lovely,” he agreed with a smile that made you feel even warmer.

He took it in his hands, and you admired how long and smooth his fingers looked as he twirled the little flower around, his hands were large, befitting a very tall, broad man and he could have easily crushed it. Yet he didn’t.

He handed it back to you, pressing two of his hands between yours, feeling the coolness of his rings.

“I think Alice would love it, dearly!” he boasted.

“She would!” you look around and then at him. You had the urge to pause. A slight breeze picked up and you felt bits of your hair drift off.

It was getting too warm. You wanted to take it off, to have the back of your head feel free and light. To not put in another strand or hurry somewhere to tuck it into your bun at least.

But the words on your last day at the boat were still there. And you were in a man’s presence, too.

“What is it, Miss?” Samuel asked. He walked forward and leaned a little closer to you.

You lowered your eyes.

“Would you not like to keep a few flowers? I thought a few would light up the little house I have, but perhaps you would like some as well?”

“Well I…yes, I think I would,” Samuel answers. He blinks in surprise but delighted surprise.

You stifle a laugh at the thought of making a purple flower crown and standing on your toes to crown it on his brown head. But you settle for choosing a couple of white and yellow ones and then handing it to him. The wind picks up slightly and you feel a few more untucked strands fly out. So much for propriety.

“I thought yellow because I remember that was what you were wearing when I walked off the ship,” you say.

He smiled a little, “really?”

“Well, no other person was wearing the color! So you popped out quite a bit like these flowers!”

He looked down at the blossoms. You wondered if he would comment on how his fiancée or even his servant would love them. But he was quiet, only smiling. Sweetly as well.

“I will keep them safe, my lady.” He praised tenderly.

He looked at you, breathing a little quickly. His eyes darted around a bit.

“Miss Y/L/N…” he began.

You turned around and sat up.

“I…I mean…” he started. He looked up at you and down at the flowers, twiddling the flowers a little.

“I thought this morning I heard you with the blacksmith and before that, you were singing that ballad….

It is a pleasant melody, old, but sweet. Yet I cannot remember all of the words. Only the first bit.” He explained. He fiddled with the rings on his left hand.

“Greensleeves? Well, I can…” you say shyly.

You begin to gather some flowers as you busy your hands, trying hard not to look at Samuel and sing them, or else you know you would feel something inside you break.

“Your vows you’ve broken, like my heart

Oh, why did you so enrapture me?

Now I remain in a world apart

But my heart remains in captivity

Greensleeves was all my joy

Greensleeves was my delight

Greensleeves was my heart of gold

And who but my lady Greensleeves

I have been ready at your hand

To grant whatever you would crave

I have both wagered life and land

Your love and good-will for to have.

Greensleeves was all my joy

Greensleeves was my delight

Greensleeves was my heart of gold

And who but my lady Greensleeves”

When you peeked back at Samuel, he looked a little flushed himself.

“Well, I may have to write them down!” he quipped.

He looked at you for a moment, those last minutes finishing the garlands.

Your beautiful, smiling face underneath the sunlight. With the grass, the faint chirrup of birds, and the colorful flowers all around.

How your skirt bloomed around you gently, like a rose blossom among these.

And your sweet, soft humming, recalling and even repeating the lyrics of that old Tudor lament for memory. There was something inside him that refused silence.

He didn’t know when it started, perhaps when he noticed how you defended Alice and got to see the true nature of your character, one of bravery in the midst of danger, utter devotion to those close to your heart, empathy, and determination to fight for those who have been hurt in spite of what others in that position would choose.

Maybe it was your eyes in church, tired, but a little bright. Half in the earth, half in heaven. But which part of you came from which half was sometimes even unknown to him.

Perhaps it even started when you stepped off of that boat. Shy, a little hurried, clearly worn from the journey, yet still hopeful, curious, looking for a bit of good in spite of the grey, dirt, and rocks, and clutching a book in your hand. The only other person in all of Virginia interested in books. Other than him.

He wanted to admit it, for the first time to himself, out loud, what was locking him up. The reason for those sleepless nights he had. For when he was alone, those thoughts would not go away. Especially not in dreaming.

There was so much he wanted to say at that moment, yet all he could get out was about bloody Greensleeves lyrics.

“Are you done, my lady? Allow me to walk you home, Mercy might need assistance with supper…”

The next morning, when you woke up you noticed something at the window. A spy, perhaps? You leaped out of bed and ran forward.

But no, it was a small gathering of primroses!

“Alice, look!” you gasp, shaking her awake.

She hurried out, still in her nightgown and returned with the pink flowers in hand.

“Why, they’re beautiful! Are you going to make this hut a garden?” she wondered, sniffing them and looking at the other wildflowers around your house.

You shake your head. “Oh, no! Not at all! I didn’t pick them yesterday!”

There is no note, no object, no sign at all who the flowers are for. So you both are quiet until you start poking at her.

“I think it’s Silas…or James!” you joke.

“What, no!” Alice denies, though her blushing betrays her.

“Oh, Alice! You’re a coquette! Admit it!” you tease lightly.

Alice smiles a little bit, hits you lightly, and sniffs the flowers a second time. She collects a tin cup to put them in on the table. You both smile at how it is another pinch of color among even the wildflowers you had managed to decorate in the place.

The simultaneous gurgling of both your stomachs interrupted the scene.

“Is there any bread left? I’m famished and we can’t eat flowers!” Alice wonders.

She walked over to the small kitchen area. There was only enough for two slices. She looked in the pot and saw that there was only so much milk that the goat was letting out at a time for two grown women to drink.

“We will be out soon…” you fret. “Do you have any spare coin for a bit of meat for later?”

Alice shook her head. “Not much, because I’m about to be…”

A little exasperated from hunger you groan “uggh! There’s hardly anything!” You almost go over to kick the pail but you stop yourself, feeling Alice’s warm hand grab your arm so tightly you feel the bone.

You pause a bit, Alice turning pale at the reminder of who would be providing for her for the rest of her days.

“Sorry…I have a rather nasty temper sometimes…I just need to work, that’s it…” you correct.

Besides, you weren’t Alice. You didn’t have men falling at your feet with the promise of income with just one word from you.

If you wanted to have enough to live, you needed to do it yourself.

Alice chews her lip.

“Maybe…if you went around town and spoke to a few people, you might find something. Though, one never knows what will happen, Y/N!” she shrugs.

You put on your outing cloak and tuck your hair into a cap and head off into town. If you looked carefully, amid the clang of James’s iron, the polite tipping of hats, or the smell of fires being kindled, there would be a way to make some wages.

Well, to respectfully make wages. Prostitution was at least extreme and at most possibly illegal.

But as you passed the Meeting House, there you caught two faces you had not seen in public outside of the church. One was the golden head of Jocelyn, and the other was the white-capped head of Mercy. Your mouth opened a little as if to call out her name impulsively.

But you had barely taken a step further when Jocelyn reached an arm up and slapped Mercy across the face. The servant girl was so surprised the hit pushed her to the ground.

You jumped, letting out a cry in surprise the same as Mercy. Mercy looked up, red-faced and tears welling up. Her tiny hands were full of dirt.

“That’s what you get when you won’t hold your tongue!” Jocelyn hissed, her hand was still up and her fist clenched.

Samuel had just hurried out when he saw the scene. His blue eyes seemed squinted, confused, and shocked, looking between the three women. Only you went down to catch Mercy’s hand while Jocelyn laced her arm around Samuel, sighing.

You look up at Samuel, then back down to Mercy, leaning down to pull her up.

You looked back at the two, then at Mercy.

“Mercy…you should have…well…” your mouth moved faster than your brain and Mercy was still sobbing.

“I will look after her and then return, safely.” You promise the couple and then head off.

Samuel stole one last, sad look at you as if to memorize how your footsteps sound on the ground. Merely giving him a worried glance, you turn your head to Mercy.

“Oh…it’s you! Oh, you are such a good soul!” Mercy blabbered as you reached your home.

“I know your mistress well, Mercy. I slept near her on the ship. I was going to tell you that you should have known better than to do something to provoke her…but with Jocelyn, who knows what will provoke her,” you sigh.

The heavy smell of all of the flowers hits you even just outside the door. You lead her inside and decide to give her a bit of water.

“For you, Mistress Mercy,” you say.

Mercy returns it, the memory of your mistake shining in her eyes.

“My mistress was in a foul mood…well, my soon-to-be mistress. She kept telling me she wasn’t feeling well and my chatting was making her worse but…” she began to cry again into her cup.

“My tongue! My bloody tongue!” she wailed.

You begin to hush her and even hold her hand. Mercy cried, shaking, and then paused. Tears now were arriving much slower. Her chest was heaving far slower too.

“Miss Y/N, it’s been told people hear you sing as you do your chores,” she whimpered.

“Oh, really?” you reply with a blush.

“Do you know anything nice? Anything comforting, please. I haven’t worked for so long I can’t remember any.”

You begin singing one of comfort to her and she only looks at you, occasionally sipping her water.

and assure it’s alright when you hear a knock.

Arriving, it is Samuel again. You could have jumped if you weren’t so used to him surprising you.

“Is she alright?” he asked, leaning down to look you in the eye.

“A bit in shock, but yes, she is. She just needs a bit of time…” you answer. You turn your head back to see Mercy has set her cup down and jolted up to stand for her employer.

“I just wanted to say…thank you, for looking after her. Mercy is a gentle soul. She doesn’t even burn my bread without a hundred apologies after I was…shocked too.” He added.

“Is your…your wife at peace?” you ask, not resisting the bitterness.

“No, not yet. She is feeling very ill, she claims but Christopher will…”

“She should not have hit her,” you blurt.

“I agree.” He huffs.

Mercy’s eyes grow wide watching you both. She starts to make her way back down to her seat and keeps drinking her water.

You walk outside with him and close the door, better to leave the poor girl in peace for a second.

“Master Castell…” you begin and he looks at you.

Why? Why are you marrying her? You wanted to ask. Can’t you see who she really is?

“Master Castell…are you happy?” you manage to question.

There is a little pause. You both remain in the shadow of the house for a while as it stretches with the setting sun. “Almost, Y/N.”

You were a little shocked.

“Oh, I’m sorry…” he apologizes, he even steps back.

“It’s alright!” you insist, raising your hands peacefully.

“I’ll pay for it; you can call me Samuel.”

“Alright Samuel, would you like to talk to Mistress Mercy?” you offered, lightening the mood.

“I will walk her home when she is ready. I will speak with her then and Y/N…thank you. Endlessly.”

You went back to Mercy. Her face was still red and her dress dirty. You wiped off the dirt with a cloth and asked her something to distract her.

“Do you know of any work? I can sew, but I’m bad at cooking,” you list, counting skills on your fingers.

“Some gentlemen need maids for their wives and servants, I know of a few. With so many men, women are getting married every day.” Mercy reports. She sets aside her cup and curiously fingers through the flowers.

You thought of the upcoming Castell nuptials. It was probably the day after tomorrow, from the rumors you heard. As you got a cool cloth for Mercy’s cheek, you made silent plans to visit Verity’s tavern and wheedle her for as many ales as you could possibly drink that very night so you could forget…

“All it seems except my mistress…”

Your head whipped around and you nearly dropped the cloth.

“What! I mean, what do you mean?” you hiss, aware of who might be right outside the door.

“Oh, it must be one reason my mistress struck me. She doesn’t like living where she is, the bed’s too hard for her and she has to try to clean and cook like a servant, she claims.”

“Mercy, what about your mistresses’ wedding?”

“Master Castell is delaying the day of the wedding by a month!” she exclaimed.

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welcometophu · 5 years ago

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Into the Split: Home 3

Twinned Book 3: Into the Split

Home 3

[ Previous | First | THE END ]

Sun spills across the room, filtered past the half-open curtains. Nikolai rolls over, and dust motes float up, sparkling in the sunbeam.

Seth groans, shoving a hand out. “Stop.”

The backpacks and bags lie on the floor, as if they had time to somehow shrug out of them before collapsing on the bed. They’re still dressed, but lie tangled as if they’re just waking up in the morning. Nikolai sits up and counts the bags—they’re all there.

More importantly, they’re here. In their room, in the smaller of the two Benford houses. In Havenhill. “We’re home,” he says quietly.

“Mm.” Seth rubs at his eyes as he sits up. “I feel like I just woke up, but it looks like it’s—” He hesitates, while Nikolai walks to the window.

“Late afternoon,” Nikolai says. “About the same time as when we left Pawel’s house. At least we didn’t end up back in Unity at wherever his house is here.” He assumes they have Chelsea to thank for that. He doesn’t know exactly how her traveling works, but it seems to have gotten them home.

He lifts the sash of the window, and sound filters in. Music plays somewhere in the distance, and the shouts remind him of the sugaring festival. When he leans out, he can’t see any crowds or people, but there is a lazy column of smoke swirling into the sky in the distance, as if a bonfire has been lit.

He pulls his head back in and leaves the window open to let the fresh air into the room. “I think there’s something going on.” He holds out his hand, and Seth takes it as Nikolai tugs him from the bed.

They take a moment to stand there, arms around each other, foreheads resting together. Nikolai nudges a slow kiss, and Seth pushes his glasses back up his nose after.

Nikolai grabs a hoodie out of his backpack, while Seth finds a light jacket. By the time they’ve changed, there’s a rumble outside as a car pulls up, then someone bangs on the front door. They exchange a look.

“The wards,” Seth says.

“Probably.” Nikolai figures he’s right, that their abrupt arrival from the Dreamscape tripped some kind of alarm on the wards. Especially since these houses have been the epicenter of the wards breaking before. He hurries out of the room and makes it down the stairs first, pulling the door open as the banging starts again.

Ethan stands there with his hand raised, mid-knock. Marybelle is behind him, and in the distance, the Jeep is rumbling down the dirt road.

Ethan lowers his hand slowly.

“We’re back.” Nikolai barely gets the words out before Ethan is hugging him, Marybelle crowding close. They manage to drag Seth in as well, but it only lasts as long as it takes for Mikhail to park the Jeep and get up the front steps.

Nikolai and Seth are pulled out of the house, passed from Mikhail to Josef and Amaranth, and when Nikolai realizes his face is wet, he’s not sure if it’s him or his brothers.

“We heard from a Dreamwalker in Utah,” Ethan tells them. “Our Technopaths created—well, helped create—this network. And he said he had a message from you.”

“Brett.”

“Yes.” Ethan grins. “He said you’d done it. That the world was changed now. There’s news coming in from all over about it.”

“I wasn’t sure you’d be able to come back,” Mikhail admits. “It’s good to see you.”

Seth tilts his head, pushes his glasses up his nose again. “Of course we came back,” he tells them. “Our family is here. All we had to do was figure out how.”

Nikolai laughs. It’s not funny, but at the same time, it is. He’s a little afraid that if he gives in to all the complicated emotions rolling through him, he might never come back from the laughter and tears.

Seth grabs his hand and holds on tight, as if he knows Nikolai needs an anchor, and Nikolai is thankful for that.

“Chelsea brought us back. The same Shadowwalker who got us thrown out in the first place,” Nikolai explains. “After we healed the Split, we needed to help her become….” He trails off, not sure how to get into that without taking hours. “It’s a long story, but she’s more like Mattie now. And she knew how to travel and was able to bring us back. So we’re here.”

“You’re here.” Josef leans on his cane, his smile bright.

Amaranth hugs Nikolai again, her long hair tickling his cheek. “God, I’m glad you’re back. And we’re having a party. You’re just in time for May Day. We’re all about new beginnings right now.”

“Speaking of—” Josef cuts off, glancing at Amaranth. She steps back, moving into his space, her hand behind his back as she leans in close. “We set a date to kick Mikhail out of the house.”

“You’ve got a spare room for your brother, right?” Mikhail asks. “I don’t want to encroach on the honeymoon once these two are married in June.”

“No,” Seth says, ducking when Mikhail makes a mock grab for him. “We want our honeymoon phase, too.”

“Are you getting married?” Mikhail points out.

Married? “God no,” Nikolai says quickly, trying to school his expression to something less horrified when Seth laughs at him. “We’re young. I mean, maybe, yes, someday, but honestly. I just want to live in a house with me and Seth and that’s it for a while. And without needing to worry that the darkness is going to eat us—and believe me, it’s tried. I want to live a normal life.”

“What passes for normal,” Seth allows.

“The new normal,” Ethan tells them. “Because it’s changing.”

There’s noise in the distance, and Nikolai wants to join in the celebration. But if he gets in the Jeep now, he can’t hear Ethan’s news. On the other hand, he doubts Josef’s going to want to walk all the way to the big house.

He turns in place, looking between the path and the road.

Josef catches the motion. “We can meet you there, if you want to walk,” he offers.

“I’ll walk with them,” Mikhail says. “You and Amaranth take your time. I still need to convince them to give me that spare room.”

“No,” Seth says again, a little flatter than before although he smiles when Mikhail does as if maybe they’re both just teasing.

Nikolai wants to say that the path feels lighter than before, as if the wards don’t weigh as heavily on Havenhill. He doubts that’s true; it has to be his own attitude, the idea that every shadow isn’t going to whisper and move. Still. He can feel that sense of new beginning in the air, like the warmth of the spring air.

“The cities that were gone are still gone,” Ethan says soberly. “We’ve been sending people to look at the ones we could. Our network of communication is better than the Humans have right now.”

“We’re all human.” The words slip out after hearing the others say it so many times, and it feels right to say it now. At Ethan’s sharp look, Nikolai tries to explain. “We’re Talented. They’re… not. But maybe some of them are, and are just waiting to Emerge. We’re all still human, it’s just some of us are also magical.”

“He has a point,” Mikhail murmurs, and Nikolai is glad for the backup.

“Boston is dark.” Marybelle circles in front of them, walking backwards as she speaks. “There’s a group out of Maine that went down. It’s a community outside of Portland, with two Technopaths and a Dreamwalker who were all part of the efforts on our side for your Ritual. Friday morning they woke up to find Hu—” She stops, frowning. “There were newcomers from the city outside their wards. They said the Shadows were gone. Or at least, mostly gone. They’d seen a few, but not crowds of them, and not as brave as before. It’s as if they’re different. So a few of the,” she hesitates, then tries, “non-Talented city people, and some of the Talented community decided to take a trip down to Boston. It’s dark, yes, and there’s no one alive there. But there are no Shadowwalkers there, either. It seems like it might be safe.”

“I’m guessing if they made it there in just a couple days, they drove,” Mikhail says dryly.

“They made it there in hours,” Marybelle says, her voice hushed like that’s a miracle.

Maybe it is. Talent and those without together, on the road, in public.

“What about the government?” Nikolai asks.

Marybelle’s gaze drops, and Ethan makes a face. “DC is dark,” Ethan admits. “We don’t know who’s left. And they don’t have the kind of network that we’ve already rebuilt. At this point, it looks like our Talented communities are going to be spearheading the rebuild.”

“Which means we have a chance to make it work for us, and stop the persecution,” Mikhail says firmly. “We need to make a better world.”

“We should reach out to Albany and Bennington,” Ethan suggests. “I’ve tried talking to Mom and Alia—”

“We’ll help,” Seth tells him. And yes, that sounds right.

They should also travel up to Burlington, too, and maybe out to some of the places they heard about while at Alaric’s home. Nikolai thinks that while the two worlds are different, what they learned there might help them find the right paths to rebuild here.

“It’s only been five days, and so much has happened already,” Nikolai murmurs.

“The first five days of the new world,” Marybelle says happily. “Imagine what’s going to happen next.”

The sun peeks through the canopy of trees as they walk down the path, leaving the walkway dappled with spots of bright light that chase the shadows away. As Nikolai walks along, Seth’s hand in his, he hears singing in the distance, voices raised in cheer and happiness to greet the spring.

Seth lifts their joined hands, presses a kiss to Nikolai’s fingertips.

Nikolai feels the warmth of that touch spread through him, like dawn after the longest night. “It’s a new world,” he agrees softly. “And we’re going to make sure it’s a better one for everyone.”

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#welcome to phu #welcometophu #into the split #phu twinned #twinned #its home

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talltalesandbedtimestories · 5 years ago

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Temporary Ideal (Part 1)

The Beach FanFic (Leonardo DiCaprio) - Written decades ago. (uff!) Can find in entirety on Wattpad. May add additional parts if it ever gets some likes/reblogs.

~~~~~

The shade from the palm made the dampness of the air around me more palpable. I could feel the condensation on my arms, face and lips. I shivered in the early dawn, waiting for him. Waiting and thinking. This spot, near Bugs’ bridge, was the unofficial entrance to the village. It was where I had laid eyes on him for the first time. I remembered it clearly, like it was yesterday. Recalling that moment, surrounded by the soft rays of a new day, it was hard to believe it had been six months since the “Three Musketeers” had backpacked into our community.

~~~~~

It happened right after Vera had thrown me the last of the bed sheets. I had taken the worn nub of the last remains of Unhygenix’s homemade soap, and rubbed it lazily against the sheet draped over the granite slab. I hated laundry duty. Even though Vera moaned and groaned when we had the garden shift, I would gladly trade in my pruned fingers for dirt strewn ones. There was the quiet that was only disrupted by the buzz of an insect or the occasional tears of dead leaves. The hope experienced planting seeds for the new crop. Picking the ripe fruit and sneaking a taste of one, delicious pear before the rest of the community. My innate green thumb surprised me. I wouldn’t have looked twice at a cornfield or row of tomato plants in my “other” life. Here, though, things were different.

“Oh… my… God!” Vera’s faux valley girl inflection had taken over for a moment. Alarmed, I froze, staring down at the water flowing past my bare thighs. The last time Vera had voiced that exclamation while doing the wash had been when she had a spotted eel wrapped around her calf. We never were sure if the eel was very friendly, very horny or very tired of intruders in that particular spot of the lagoon. She had grabbed that sucker and smashed it against a rock like a bullwhip. Poor thing never knew what hit him, or her, or it. I made a mental note never to sneak up on Vera after that.

“What?” My focus shifted to Vera’s line of sight, which hadn’t been the water. My mouth opened slightly, feeling the dryness that had suddenly appeared. I’m sure everyone in the community had the same feeling at that moment. There they were, walking over the bridge, entering our territory. Keaty led the way. His tour of duty by the waterfall had turned out to be the most eventful one in two years.

“Three.” Vera waded toward the bridge. My mind had quickly processed the total. My attention was all on the person following six steps behind Keaty. I could tell immediately that he was American. I’m not sure what gave him away first, but the quick nod of recognition he gave Vera solidified it.

American. Even though I felt fear and uncertainty at their presence, I still smiled. There was another one of us. Four now. And there was another reason I was smiling. That flight of butterflies that had remained dormant in my stomach for what now seemed like an eternity, was performing aerials I couldn’t remember ever experiencing. It may have just boiled down to the fact that there was new meat. Available meat. It was obvious, the solitary way he strode ahead of the other man and woman, that he was alone.

He was tan, lean and long. Everything about him screamed California boy, kissed by the sun from his golden-brown strands to the shine of his skin. He tightly gripped the end of what looked like a trash bag over his right shoulder, eyes darting this way and that, taking in the entirety of the environment. He passed over me as quickly as he had everyone else. I was too far away to make out the color of his eyes, but his stare was intense enough for me to feel he meant business. They hadn’t just stumbled across our paradise. This had been a quest. And I was pretty sure he was the one who had been in charge for most of it.

Vera looked over to me after they had passed. “Let’s hurry this shit up and get our asses back to the longhouse. I don’t want to miss Sal’s face when she sees this.” I nodded in agreement, and then shook my head at the thought of Sal’s expression. I hoped I would be able to get some prime seating.

~~~~~

We slipped in after the impromptu “family meeting” had already taken place.

Sophie stood in the darkened corner and motioned quickly to both of us as soon as we came in. We huddled together for catch up.

“They have a map.” Sophie nodded her head toward the middle of the longhouse, where the majority now congregated. Sal was in full mother-hen mode. I spotted the paper in her hand.

“To the beach?” Vera asked and Sophie nodded. My eyes canvassed the area. I saw the back of blonde boy. “Who are they?” Vera questioned again.

“The couple is French.” I looked over at Sophie in time to see a slight smile. It would be an addition to the already large French line. “Etienne and Francoise. The other one is Richard. An American.”

Richard. I let the name dance in my head a few times, unable to hide the vindication that my guess to his nationality had been correct. I didn’t need to hear any more from Sophie. I walked around the circle, just outside the radar of being noticed. Blending into the background had always been my best skill and too much was going on for anyone to pay attention to me anyway. They were all fixated on the visitors. I could spot rage on some faces, fear on others. But Sal would not let these new arrivals leave. I had known her long enough to realize that fact.

I sat on my bunk thankful Richard was on the exact opposite end. My legs crossed. I could hear the buzz of conversation around me. All of my senses besides sight had dulled, been drowned out, by the activity occupying me. Taking in every aspect of this man was now top priority. Boyishness graced his face, but the dominance of the man emerging was putting up a fierce battle with that appearance. In his 20s definitely, but as to which end of the scale he tipped closer to was still up in the air. The beauty and symmetry of his face elicited one word into my mind. Perfect. The shadows of late afternoon, however, didn’t allow a peek at his eye color. The somber, stuffy atmosphere of the hut matched the mood of its inhabitants.

My hearing tuned in at the sound of his voice, answering a question from Sal. I let the pitch and tone of his words flow inside. Even his words felt right to my ears. “It was on my hotel door one morning. I’d had this weird conversation with a guy staying next door to me the night before. He kept talking about this beach. So when I found the map, I figured it was from him. The guy who drew it…”

“Daffy.” Sal finished his sentence for him. The name jarred memories and haunting images of the rift that formed right before Daffy had left the island. The friction between Daffy, Sal and Bugs had become unbearable. I wanted to ask about Daffy, but the question only screamed inside my mind. There would be no disruptions while class was in session, at least not from the well-behaved students.

“Yeah, he’s dead.” My mouth dropped open, hearing that cold, factual sentence from Richard. That sentence did not come from one who had spent countless nights listening to Daffy’s stories around the fire. Not one who had ventured back with him to the mainland at least a dozen times for rice runs. And not one who had seen the love for something pure turn into an obsession to protect it. I tried to let the realization of Daffy’s death sink in, but I knew it would take forever to finalize it. I saw the whispers and stunned expressions take over the group.

Someone, I think Dale, exclaimed, “No way!”

Richard continued. “Yeah, he cut his wrists open in a hotel room on the Ko Sahn Road.”

Gregorio stared in horror at Richard. “You have seen this?”

“Well, I came afterwards.” There was no easy way to break this kind of news to a family. It was like a police officer knocking at a son’s door in the middle of the night to tell him his parents had been killed in a car accident. Empathy is a hard feeling to fake. You just don’t know until you have been there. I guessed Richard had yet to experience a close death.

“Well, that’s sad news. He was one of the founders of our community.” I spotted Vera, still in the corner with Sophie, listening to Sal. I hoped she had sense enough to hold her tongue.

“Oh.” Richard nodded his head slightly.

“But he became depressed.” There had been a clearing of the throat, somewhere from the crowd, after Sal’s addition. My stomach tensed up. It was amazing how fast people forgot all the good. Most of the bad feelings toward Daffy were present because of Sal’s talks and speeches since he had left. How he had become a liability, an acceptable loss for the protection of our community.

I saw Richard survey the reaction quickly. He had felt the bad blood and my eyes narrowed as I watched him try and feed off of it. “The police didn’t know what to do with the body so I guess they’re going to like incinerate him or something.” His smile and sudden laugh felt forced, out of place. He immediately realized his mistake, turning his head to the side to avoid the eyes of the community. He scratched the back of his head.

Sal took no note of it. I knew she was concerned with only one thing. “Do you think he gave a map to anybody else?”

Richard stared at her for a second, shaking his head in doubt. “Ah, no… I don’t think so.” I noticed relief on his face, thankful that the attention had been shifted from his foot-in-mouth display.

She looked at Etienne, Francoise and Richard, one by one. “And you, have you shown this map to anybody?”

They answered one after the other. “No.”

“Good.” She handed the open map to Richard. I felt another example coming on. She grabbed Bugs’ lighter and smiled, “We value our secrecy.” She lighted the map at the bottom as Richard held it. I heard the clapping begin. With that, our new members had been baptized.

~~~~~

After dinner, the nightly ritual of bedtime began for all in the longhouse. The newly arrived were given their sleep locations. I quietly prayed to whatever Thai god had whispered in Sal’s ear and placed him an easy glance across the floor from me. It was a beautiful change of scenery.

Keaty was filling him in on how things ran daily in the hut when Sonja stood up. I sighed. It was a language class tonight. She politely requested everyone’s attention and began her translation prompt.

“Listen up, everybody.” Her blonde bob shook a bit as she scanned the room. Linguistic learning was mainly someone reciting a line in English – which everyone on the island spoke – and expecting a translation in the teacher’s native tongue. In Sonja’s case, we’d be regurgitating the phrase in Croation. I always cursed Sal when it was time for this, as it had been her bright idea to begin this ages ago. I enjoyed poetry night so much more. I didn’t have to worry about getting called on to speak in front of the class.

“OK. Tomorrow I will travel for many miles on a bicycle.” She nodded her head towards the right of the hut. “Um, Vicki.”

Sitting just off to Richard’s side, Vick stopped in mid hit. I was curious if she had spoken to Richard much upon his arrival. She was a California girl. If my assumptions about where he was from were right, they might have a lot to talk about. She took just a second to contain her smoke before beginning. “Uh, sutra cu potovati mnogo milja bicicklom.”

I watched Richard listen intently before looking to Sonja to see how well Vicki had done. “Great, very good.” Sonja went on to her next victim. Though I should have been paying attention in case I was called, I was spending more time studying Richard.

After Helene, it was Keaty’s turn. In typical fashion, he stood up proudly. “All right. It’s far too easy, though.” With little effort, the words flowed freely out of his mouth. Cockily, he continued the rant. From what I could tell, his bicycle ride was going to be in the park after he ate a big breakfast. I shook my head, laughing at his pompous behavior as the rest of the group jeered. They eventually drowned him out. “There’s more, you know.” Before he sat down he took over Sonja’s duty and called out the next name. “Richard!”

There was an immediate hush. The newbie looked around and cleared his throat. To all listening, he choked out the words in a broken fashion; but, still surprisingly correct. Keaty yelled out in admiration, “Richard, you’re represented, man!” As was customary, the rest of the community applauded in sign language with their hands shaking while raised above their heads. I joined in on the compliment.

Richard grinned from ear to ear as he looked around the room. I felt that hiccup in my chest again as his eyes fell on me for a brief second. His eyes sparkled in the lantern lights. It was time to curse myself for being such a sucker for blue eyes.

~~~~~

Six months later, he was still only someone I studied from afar. There was the occasional friendly or duty-related chit-chat. But he had assimilated quickly, making a name for himself in the process. He still had a while to go, still only the second-string quarterback of the island. I, on the other hand, was hardly in the running for head cheerleader or homecoming queen.

He had become chummy with Keaty. I had gotten most of my information on Richard through him. The one thing I didn’t need explained to me was the crush he had on Francoise, the French girl that had accompanied him on the journey. I wondered if Etienne’s ignorance to his friend’s feelings about his girlfriend was simply a show. The looks Richard gave Francoise were just a bit too long. I hoped my crush was not as obvious to everyone else.

“Beth!” Keaty strode up beside me on the way back from a day of tilling in the garden.

“What’s up?”

“Have a question for you, love.” I always grinned when he said that.

“Shoot.”

Always the gentleman, he took my shovel, and leaned it against his right shoulder as we walked.

“Triple A’s. In short supply. Got any I can borrow?”

“God, Keaty, what have you been doing with them lately?”

“Not me only, Richard’s been hogging my GameBoy as well. We’re thinking of starting our own group. VGAA.” I stared at him curiously. He smiled explaining, “Video Game Addicts Anonymous.”

I laughed, shaking my head. “Well, I don’t know if I should be a facilitator then, supplying you with the means to continue this addiction.”

“Ah, but the first step on the road to recovery is admission, which I’ve already done. Can’t stop cold turkey, right?”

“I’ll have some for you after dinner.”

“Thanks, Beth. You are a life saver, have I told you that?”

I nodded.

“Well, you are. I’m not the only one that knows it, love.”

“Enough sucking up, I already said I would give them to you.”

“Right. How about trying a game of cricket with me tomorrow then?”

“That’s OK, I prefer watching.”

“I’ve noticed.” I slapped his arm after that comment.

“Don’t hit me over the truth.” We both laughed, approaching the clearing to the beach. I didn’t spot Richard until Keaty had called over to him. “Richard, my man, we are back in business!”

Richard turned upon hearing his name. He sat on the beach with Christo and his fishing spear in hand. He nodded, smiling. “What Keaty!?”

“Got our dealer right here!” He placed his free hand over my shoulder. “Kong competition tonight!”

I felt myself blush with his attention on me. “Cool! Thanks Beth!” He waved over to the both of us.

I nodded and freed myself from Keaty’s grasp and grabbed the shovel back. “Gotta wash up, Keaty.”

~~~~~

I’d settled down in my bunk after a satisfying meal of rice and catfish, accompanied by an unexpected salad. I thought about the crop we would be working on the next day and couldn’t wait for the tomatoes to ripen. They’d be a great addition to Unhygenix’s menu.

I searched in my satchel for the book of poetry by Thoreau.

“Beth?”

My eyes looked up to find Richard towering above me.

“Yeah?” I smiled despite myself.

He bent at the knees, lowering himself to my eye level. “Don’t mean to be a pain, but Keaty and I,” I stared into his blue eyes a bit longer than I should have.

“Oh!” I mentally slapped my forehead. “The batteries.” He smiled, nodding. “Sorry, I forgot all about it.”

“No problem, just didn’t know how much longer Keaty and I could last before we experience withdrawal symptoms.” He chuckled, leaning his forearms against his knees.

I laughed, reaching over to my cigar box, my little treasure chest. “What are some of the symptoms?”

I turned back to see him hunched over, eyes wide, with his thumbs rapidly pressing invisible buttons. “Nothing too severe.” He started twitching his head. He continued the act. “Jump… Right… Punch”. I waved four batteries in front of his face, grinning. He relaxed immediately, opening a palm for the alkaline gems to drop inside of. “Whew, thanks.” He winked, and then smiled, as his hand clutched them tightly. “Could have gotten ugly.”

“Glad I could fix you up.”

“I owe you.”

I smiled, thinking of a few ways he could pay me back. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Night.”

“Good Night, Richard.”

I watched him stand up and turn, ready to make his way over to Keaty’s corner. I was about to resume the search for my book when I saw him turn back out of the corner of my eye. “Beth?”

“Uh-huh?”

“I was wondering… well,” he knelt down once again, “if you could help me with something?”

I nodded.

He looked around, I guessed to make sure no one was paying close attention. I noticed him lingering his gaze in Sal’s direction before continuing, slightly above a whisper this time. “It’s about Daffy.”

It had been months since I had heard anyone utter his name. “Daffy?”

He nodded. “It’s just that… ever since we came here, I’ve had a lot of questions about him. I mean he’s the reason we’re here. But, no one talks about him. I’ve asked Sal once, and Keaty a few times, but they just clam up or change the subject. The only thing I got out of Keaty was that you were close to him.”

“I guess you could say that.”

“Could you tell me something about him then? Tomorrow maybe?”

“Sure.”

“I’ll meet up with you after fishing duty.”

“OK.” I smiled.

“Thanks.”

“Good night. Again.” He smiled, walked off. I lay back, placing my hand under my pillow. That’s where Thoreau turned out to be hiding. I pulled the worn book out, inspecting it. Thoughts of curling up with a few of his verses were now long gone. I had someone else to dream about.

#leonardo dicaprio fanfiction #dicaprio fanfic #the beach movie

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kalimagik · 5 years ago

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Should’ve Said No

Sirius Black x Reader

Marauders Era

Based off the song “Should’ve Said No” by Taylor Swift

<3k

Warnings: Angst and mentions of cheating

A/N: I’m back with another song based fic because that’s one of the few places that I draw inspiration from. I had a three hour car ride, listened to this song on repeat a million times, so in short, this fic just wrote itself! If you enjoy it, like, reblog, comment, or follow (I think you get the gist so far!) It’s my first time writing for Sirius, so I hope you all like it! Happy Reading <3

I knew the risks that came with catching the eye of Hogwarts’ biggest playboy. I knew his reputation. I had stayed away for a decent amount of time, but the boy finally wore me down at the end of sixth year. He asked and asked. He said he was done with his play boy life. I said yes. Everyone was surprised I said yes. Hell, I was surprised that I said yes, but it was worth the risk. Sirius Black had my heart in his hands. He was careful with it too, almost delicate.

Then seventh year kicked in and so did the beginning of quidditch matches and parties. I did as much Common Room rotating for the parties as the next girl, but the one time, the one time I decided that school was more important, he wasn’t strong enough to not ruin everything. Let me go back for a minute.

Lily came up to me during lunch the other day, I think it was Tuesday or Wednesday, and sat with me at the Y/H table.

“Did you finish that Transfiguration homework Saturday?” she asked me casually, but seemed to have a little bit of a tremor in her voice.

“Yeah, Remus was a ton of help. Thank you for telling him that I needed him even though I didn’t want to ask. How was the party?” I asked, thinking nothing of it. It had been Gryffindor’s turn to host, but I wanted to get a good grade in my N.E.W.T. level transfiguration this year, so studying took precedent.

Lily grew quieter suddenly.

“That bad, huh?” I giggled, judging her reaction. “Where’s James?”

I was still so daft. So stupid to think that everything was normal. Lily’s boyfriend and my boyfriend were best friends. It brought us closer than ever and it made me happy. Sound began to fill the Great Hall as others came in for lunch.

“He’ll be along. I just wanted to talk to you,” Lily piped up again. “Are you almost done? Could we go to the loo to talk for a minute?”

“What is with you, Lil?” I was worried now. Lily was usually such a happy presence to be around, but that day, something was off. I gathered my things, following Lily to a bathroom a little ways from the Great Hall. What was she so upset over? I hoped she was alright. “Oh, look! There’s James and Sirius!”

I had started to call them over, but Lily quickly pulled me through the door of the bathroom.

“Seriously, Lily. What’s up? Did James do something? Should I warm up my wand?”

“He didn’t do anything, Y/N.” I just stared at her, mouth slightly opened. I was wracking my mind over what had potentially happened that had her acting this way

I realize now that I was so worried for her when she was just being protective over me.

She finally spoke. “I didn’t want to be the one to tell you this, but you deserve to know. He isn’t going to tell you, Y/N/N, but I like you and it isn’t fair.”

“What are you rambling on about?”

“Sirius cheated on you…” she finally blurted out. My whole body went numb. I didn’t even hear her say who it was with. I later found out it was Marlene. That was a whole other beast to deal with. We were never that close anyways, so it didn’t surprise me.

Like I said, I knew his reputation.

“Y/N/N? It was at the party. I don’t know if he was drunk or what. I wasn’t paying much attention. He begged me not to tell you and James even begged me to give him the chance to tell you. I did. It’s been nearly 5 days and he hadn’t and I couldn’t just watch him with you, acting normal. I’m sorry.”

I realized then that I hadn’t said anything yet. I stood there, staring at the sinks behind Lily. I didn’t even look at her. My gaze shifted to my face in the mirror. The color had drained from my face. I couldn’t even see any emotion in my features. I could only feel my heart shattering into a million pieces.

Then Lily asked those dreaded words. “Are you okay?” I looked at her, a blank stare still ensuing, “Oh, no. You’re mad at me. I am so sorry, really. I didn’t want to tell you all of this.”

Words finally found their way to my lips. “I’m not mad at you, Lily. I’m mad at him. I’m going back to my room. I may see you tomorrow. I don’t know.”

I bolted to the door and for the crowded halls. I didn’t want to be with anyone anymore. I heard Lily calling to me over the noise. “But, we still have classes today!”

I wasn’t going to classes. I was processing. Processing was allowed right? I just found out that my boyfriend, correction, my now ex-boyfriend, cheated on me. I would face him later, but for now, I needed time to myself.

With classes continuing, my room was completely empty. The moment the doors shut, the tears began to roll down my face. I scanned the contents next to my bed. There were those stupid flowers that Sirius had given me the previous Friday.

I stood in front of them on my night stand. I felt all the hurt and anger that had been numb explode. They burst. My hands acted on their own accord. I picked up the flowers in my hand. They were so delicate, but the anger flowed through my veins and instinct threw them against the wall. When the noise of the limp plants didn’t give me any satisfaction, I followed the flowers with the vase. The smashing sound of glass against the wall was all I needed to hear to know that I was broken inside.

I skipped my afternoon classes, falling into a heavy sleep, exhausted from the crying. It felt like a hippogriff had run me over. I got up to use the bathroom later and assess my running makeup and horrendous bed head. It was bad, but I didn’t care. I enchanted the door so that no one could come in. They’d only be able to enter when I gave permission. I just needed to be alone in this school that was now seeming all too small.

When I skipped dinner too, I knew someone was bound to come searching for me eventually. Only, I was expecting Lily or one of my roommates to knock on my door. For some reason, the idea of Sirius coming to talk to me never crossed my mind.

I heard someone attempt to push against the door as I curled up under my blankets. I felt like they would protect me from the world.

“Love? I know you’re in there,” Sirius called out to me from behind the door. “You skipped classes and dinner.”

His voice was so calm. Surely Lily told him that I knew the truth about his weekend. He should be a mess like I was right at that moment!

“Go away. I’m not feeling well,” I lied. I wasn’t ready to confront him then. I wasn’t ready to even look at him.

“Evans told me,” he sighed. I could hear his fingernails scratching against the wood. Another pause. “I know you know.”

“Then you know why I don’t really want to talk to you.” I couldn’t help but let the blunt words take the place of my gasping and sobbing. I’d rather him hear the harshness in my voice than any of the hurt.

“Y/N, darling. I will take it all back if you just give me one chance. It was a moment of weakness, love. With the party and the alcohol, it just happened. It meant nothing though.”

I had no response for him. I wasn’t going to give him that satisfaction. 45 minutes may have passed. Sirius tried to speak to me a few more times. I even heard him trying to counter the charm I used to lock the door, but he couldn’t. He had no choice but to leave.

I endured the cooing and sympathies from my roommates, but I hated it. I hated feeling like this. I hated feeling hopeless. This wasn’t my fault. I was a victim, but I’m not weak.

I couldn’t sleep all night, so I silently moved around the room and placed all of Sirius’ things in a bag. His records of the muggle music he adored, the remnants of the flowers, even the pictures of the two of us. I didn’t want them.

I marched down to breakfast with the strong intent of telling him off in front of everyone. Everybody in this bloody school knew what had happened by now. I’m sure Marlene basked in the mess she caused and would tell anyone who wanted to hear about it. So, I wasn’t going to let our break-up be ruined by rumors. I’d let everyone witness it first-hand.

I combed my hair. Redid my make-up. This didn’t hide the fact that I had been crying all day and night, but I don’t care. I needed to do this.

So now, here I am, standing outside the Great Hall. Students from all the houses are eating their breakfasts and I’m holding this bulging bag.

I feel Lily Evans’ bright green eyes on me as I walk down the length of the Gryffindor table to where she was sitting with Sirius and the other Marauders. From the short glance towards her, I can’t tell if she is scared about what I am going to do or proud. I don’t really care at this point though. I am here on a mission.

“Pads,” Remus whispers as he is the first one to see me walking towards the group (aside from Lily).

I’m carrying this bag and just thinking to myself how strange it is to think the songs we used to sing, the smiles, the flowers, and everything is just gone. His dark, piercing eyes met my own. He doesn’t look like a mess. He looks perfect like he always does. This recognition just fires the anger that has been building up inside of me all morning.

“Y/N? You’re up! Excellent!” Sirius smiles at me. He reaches out to take the bag from me as if he’s helping. “I was thinking perhaps we could have a chat this morning before classes? We could go to the courtyard.”

I examine him. He seems different to me now. He was pretending like nothing was wrong while he was in front of his friends. I can read him. I know this.

“I don’t think so, Sirius. Those are your things.” I spit out at him, pointing to the bag now in his hands. Hoping that I am wearing a blank face, I watch his fall. I know he can tell what I’m feeling through my Y/E/C eyes. He always did say that they gave me away every time.

“I told you last night though. It didn’t mean anything.”

Scoffing, I can’t stop myself from shaking my head. “No, Sirius. Yesterday I found out about you and even now just looking at you feels absolutely wrong! I heard you last night. You say that you’d take it all back given one chance. It was a moment of weakness-” My arms were flailing as I began to yell. I’ve never been capable of keeping my voice down. I know I’m loud. “And you said yes!” The words bellow out of my throat and I feel like they echo. I don’t know. I’m mad. I’m not finished either.

Sirius looks at me as if he wants to speak, so I have to cut him off quickly.

“You don’t get to talk yet.”

The silence of the Great Hall was deafening. I know that everyone is watching us. Although, I am feeling extra strong. Maybe all those girls that Sirius screwed over in the past were sending me their strength.

“I was studying the night of the party. It was the first one that I missed and you messed it all up! Here’s what should have happened.” My hand motions are taking over as the words roll off my tongue. I didn’t even plan any of this. “You should’ve said no, you should’ve gone home, you should’ve thought twice before you let it all go. This school is so damn small that you should’ve known that word about what you did with her would get back to me!”

Maybe I shouldn’t have just pointed to Marlene at that point…oh well. Put my focus back on Sirius.

“I should have been there in the back of your mind. I shouldn’t be asking myself why all of this happened. You shouldn’t be sitting outside of my room begging for forgiveness at my feet. If you would’ve said no, we would still be together. I did everything right! This is your fault!”

His eyes widened at my words. I can’t look at him anymore. I’m not eating breakfast, but it’s fine. I would be on a high from this for at least a little while. I could probably get through my morning classes. I don’t have any with Sirius, so that wouldn’t be a problem. I do have them with Remus, so that could pose an issue, but with what I am feeling right now, I can take it.

“Y/N! Wait up!” Lily’s red hair chased me from the crowded hall. Her face was lighting up everything else. “That was awesome! I mean, Sirius isn’t looking too great, but you were fantastic! I think some people wanted to applaud you on your way out.”

My high began to fade. I didn’t mean to make him feel awful. I just didn’t want to let it seem like he could walk all over me and what he did was okay. It isn’t okay! Cheating is one of the lowest things a person could do!

Lily could see the uncertainty on my face. “Was I too hard on him? Should I have done that in private?” I could feel my eyes begin to puff and redden again.

“He deserved it, Y/N/N. What he did to you wasn’t in private, so I think this is justice.” Lily smiled.

That smile quickly fell. I turned to follow her line of sight. Sirius stood there, just looking at me. He was being quick to run up to me.

“Can we please talk?”

“That’s not a good idea.”

“I said I’m sorry. It’s all in the past!” His eyes are pleading with me, but I just can’t do it. “I want to be with you, Y/N! I have wanted to be with you for the longest time. It was just a moment of weakness. If you could just give me a chance, please?”

“You hurt me, Black.” I needed to stop and cringe. I used to only call him by his last name and it felt wrong to be using it again. “You can tell I’ve been crying, just look at my eyes! I’m sure everyone can see it. And you know all the right things to say! You’ve always been good with words. That’s one of the reasons I fell for you. But do you honestly expect me to believe that we could ever be the same after this? You should’ve said no, Black.”

I turn to walk away, Lily being supportive next to me, but something is tugging on me, a question I didn’t realize I had, so I turn back to Sirius.

“I need to ask you something before I go. I can’t resist. Was it worth it? Was she worth all of this?”

Sirius hung his head. I haven’t seen him like this since he decided to leave home, and I was just a friend at that point. “No. She wasn’t.”

I nod, accepting the fact that he understands that he messed up. Maybe, in the future I can forgive him for this and even be friends, but like I said, we could never be the same. Walking away right now seems like the best option for me though. With Lily beside me, I am going to go to classes and I am going to heal and move on. I said my peace to Sirius Black. He made a mistake, but I would not be the victim of the next one.

#sirius black x reader #sirius black #marauders #young marauders #harry potter #angst #harry potter x reader #song fic #first sirius fic #kalimagik #angst fic #lily evans #james potter #remus lupin #padfoot #sirius black imagine #sirius black fic

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starssayhello · 6 years ago

Text

Gone - Bucky Barnes (1)

Word Count: 2.2k

Warnings: sadness?? NO ENDGAME SPOILERS. This takes place during the Captain America movies, starting in First Avenger.

This is for @prettyyoungtragedy 10k challenge. It’s been so long since I worked on it and now I finally have time to write again so I thought I would finalize my drafts. My prompt was “Don’t say that to me...not you of all people”

Masterlist

A/N: This is part 1 of I’m not sure how many. The prompt doesn’t appear until later. Also yes I realize it is May the Fourth and the appropriate post would be SW related but here’s this instead. Comments and reblogs are much appreciated :)

The gentle breeze whispered through the crack in the window of the Brooklyn apartment. Spring arrived earlier than planned but it was much welcomed after the cruel winter. A girl, young and carefree, paced the floor of the apartment, awaiting the news that would change the near future. She tripped over the small black and brown puppy curled up in a patch of sunlight and cursed. The puppy lifted its head, curious at the girl’s outburst.

Kneeling down, the girl cupped the puppy’s muzzle in her hand. Her h/c hair fell into her eyes but she swept it away with an annoyed wave of her hand. “Everything will be different soon, Copper.” The puppy wagged its tail, staring joyfully up at her with its big brown eyes. She sighed. Even the dog couldn’t understand what she might be losing.

A gentle knock sounded from the door and a moment later, a man stepped in. The crisp uniform and hat accented his already perfect stance. Usually bright blue eyes appeared dim in the afternoon sunshine. The girl rose to her feet, smoothing her skirt. “So?”

“Sergeant James Barnes of the 107th, ship out first thing tomorrow.”

She opened her mouth, as if to say something, but quickly decided against it. “I’m proud, Bucky.” The man, Bucky, frowned and moved to stand in front of her.

Gripping her elbows, he said, “Hey, don’t do that.”

“Do what?” She pulled back slightly, tucking her arms around herself.

Bucky sighed. “You know what I’m talking about, Y/N. Say what you were going to say.”

Y/N inhaled deeply before meeting his eyes, bracing herself for the look that would make her tell all. Bucky’s deep blue eyes stared back intently. “You promised me.” Bucky’s gaze fell to the necklace resting against her collarbone. A promise of their future and a reminder that there would be one.

“I know, doll. But this is out of my control, you know that.” He took her hands and tipped his head to look at her straight on. “You and I both know this was gonna happen eventually. It was only a matter of time.”

She sniffed. “Do you have to go so soon?” Y/N choked back the tears threatening to fall. “We barely got two years together.”

“And that’s more than you can say for most people around here,” Bucky pointed out. “I’ve known you my whole life, Y/N, and I intend to spend the rest of it with you, but I can’t do that until this damn war ends.”

Y/N slid a hand up to his face, the other gripping the tie around his neck. “It’s so soon.”

“Then we better make it count.” Bucky dipped his head and pressed his lips against hers for a quick kiss. “We’ll do something tonight. Go out, cause some trouble. And then I’ll be back before you know it!”

Bucky grinned at Y/N, eyes sparkling with mischief. Slowly, her head nodded. A smile twisted her lips up when she thought of an idea. Pulling away from Bucky, she skipped over to the kitchen table and grabbed the newspaper laying haphazardly on the corner. She presented the front page, teeth flashing in the sun. Bucky’s eyebrows furrowed and he reached for the paper. “The Expo?”

Y/N nodded excitedly. “Please, Buck, I’ve been dying to go. And who knows when there’ll be another one since Stark is leaving for the war,” she pleaded, eyes filling with hope.

Bucky dropped his head in defeat, grinning. “Alright. We’ll go.”

“Yay! Thank you thank you thank you!” Y/N dropped the paper and rushed at him, throwing her arms over his shoulders. He spun her around, laughing delightedly at his girl.

One thing he admired most about Y/N was her curiosity. Even as a little girl, she was always trailing after Bucky, Steve, and her big brother Charlie, preferring the boys’ games to braiding hair or playing dolls with the neighbor girls. She wore trousers and mud, bare feet and a dirt-stained face. Tomboy at heart is what her mother always said. When Charlie left for school, Y/N stayed with Bucky and Steve, a friendship built out of loyalty. And now, ten years later at age twenty-five, she was still the boys’ closest friend. Though she and Bucky grew to be more, the trust gained in the early years of their lives remained the foundation of their relationship.

“Anything for you, doll,” he whispered in her hair.

----

“Steve!” Y/N waved down the blond, tugging on Bucky’s hand to get to the entrance faster. Steve smiled at her anxiously, pulling on his jacket sleeve. “Stop that.” Y/N slapped his hand away. “I just fixed it for you.”

Bucky’s eyes flipped from his two friends to the entrance. “We going in or what?” Y/N bounced on her toes happily. Bucky kissed her cheek quickly before striding off to the ticket booth. She and Steve followed behind.

“How are you holding up?” Steve asked. Y/N’s smile fell slightly. Her eyes found Bucky as he gestured for them to follow. She shrugged, slipping an arm through Steve’s so as not to lose him in the crowd.

“I can’t believe he’s leaving. I knew it was always an option but…”

“Didn’t seem real until he had the uniform?” Steve supplied. Y/N nodded. “Me too. I can’t picture a time without him.”

“We never had to,” Y/N responded. She rolled her shoulders back. “Let’s just forget tomorrow. Tonight is all that matters.”

Steve nodded and echoed, “Tonight.”

Strolling through the Expo, Y/N’s eyes filled with wonder. “It’s like magic, Buck,” she exclaimed.

He shook his head, looking around in awe. “Ain’t magic, doll,” he mumbled. “Science.” Y/N giggled at him. Bucky turned back to his conversation with Steve, his eyes trailed on Y/N. “I don’t see what the problem is. You’re about to be the last eligible man in New York.”

“You know, there are three and a half million women here,” Y/N supplied, lacing her fingers with Bucky’s again.

Steve shrugged. “Yeah, well I’d settle for just one”

Y/N giggled. “Good thing we took care of that,” she responded, waving down a woman standing by a statue.

The woman waved back, and Y/N pulled away from the boys to greet her friend. “What’d you tell her about me?” Steve questioned.

“Only the good stuff.”

Y/N hugged her friend tightly. “Maggie, thank you for coming!” She smiled happily at one of her few girl friends.

Margaret, or Maggie, nodded shortly. “I just hope this doesn’t become disastrous. You know how I am with men.”

Y/N laughed, shaking her head. “It will be fine. Just trust me on this.”

----

“Where’s Steve?” Bucky glanced around for his friend. Y/N glanced at Maggie, who shrugged in confusion. “Ah, man.” Y/N followed Bucky’s line of vision. The enlistment building. Of course. “Come on, doll, let’s go get ‘im.” Bucky wrapped an arm around Y/N’s waist, tucking her close so as not to be separated in the crowd. Maggie trailed behind, weaving in and out of groups, just barely keeping up. When they finally spotted Steve, Y/N held back with Maggie, shoving Bucky towards his best friend.

Maggie looped an arm through Y/N’s. “Not that this hasn’t been fun, but I thought we were going dancing.”

Y/N shook her head fondly. “We were, but Bucky wanted to appease my fantasy.” Maggie giggled. “We can go as soon as he’s done talking to Steve.”

“How are you doing?” Maggie asked out of the blue. Though the question seemed one for passing, Y/N knew she was asking more than just the common greeting.

Y/N shrugged. How was she doing? Bucky was leaving the next morning. He and Y/N had spent the afternoon packing a bag with the most important things he needed. Clothes, uniform, his journal, a photograph of the two of them, another one of him and Steve. The essentials. Y/N had nearly broken down when he took out his watch and wrapped her fingers around it. “So you always have a piece of me with you.” When she pressed the button, the top had popped open, revealing the face of the watch and a picture identical to one folded neatly into Bucky’s pocket. Him presenting her with a flower on their very first date.

Her mother had always been an enthusiastic photographer and spent much of their savings on film and parts to fix up her camera. Some of her favorite subject matters were Y/N and Charlie, and most pictures also included Bucky and Steve. Of course, when Bucky showed up at their front doorstep with a blushing pink tulip plucked from his mother’s garden, it only made sense that the beautiful moment be captured in time.

“Bucky,” Y/N had protested. “I can’t-”

“Don’t, Y/N/N. I want you to have it.” Bucky had stared at her intensely, hoping she understood how much he truly wanted her to have a piece of him, even when he knew it was not enough. Her sparkling eyes had found his and she inhaled slowly. In that moment, she had fallen in love with him all over again. His charm, his smile, his eyes, his laugh, his caring nature, how gentle he could be while still holding an air of authority, his protectiveness, but most importantly how deeply he loved. Not just her, but Steve and his mother and sisters and the friends he had known for a fraction of his life. Never once did Bucky meet someone and immediately think the worst of them. Until they showed him they didn’t deserve his respect, he gave them his whole heart. Y/N loved how deep his love flowed, how naturally it came to him.

“Okay,” she had whispered, softer than the breeze that tickled the back of her neck. Bucky’s arms had come up to frame her body. He tugged her gently into his chest, encircling her with his arms. His chin rested on top of her hair, tucking her head to his neck. Y/N’s arms had slowly wrapped around Bucky, pulling him closer to her. Peace had filled the silence, the muffled sound of the streets below the only noise needed.

Fading out of her memory of the afternoon, Y/N finally answered Maggie. “I’ll miss him.”

Maggie frowned. “You know that’s not what I asked.” She pulled her friend into a hug. “I’m always here for you.”

“I know,” Y/N mumbled into her shoulder. Pulling back, she swiped away the single tear that fell down her cheek. “Now, what about the rest of our night?”

Maggie smiled. “You’re not getting out of this conversation that easily but… dancing sounds wonderful.”

“Well, miss, your wish is my command.” She and Maggie giggled and then she called, “Hey Sarge! We going dancing?”

Bucky twisted, holding out his arms. “Yes, we are.” He shot Y/N a grin before turning back to Steve. They hugged quickly and as Bucky was walking away, Steve called out, “Don’t win the war ‘til I get there.” Bucky saluted him before turning back and smiling at Y/N.

“Come on, girls,” he took her arm, “They’re playing our song.”

----

“Don't go.” Her arms held tight around his neck. “Please don't go.”

Bucky hugged her closer. “I have to doll. You know I have to.” He tucked his face into her neck, pressing a kiss to the soft skin. “You know I have to go.”

These words had been repeated over and over for the past hour. They rested on Y/N’s lips as she slept uncomfortably in the night. Bucky had pulled her close and rocked her back and forth as the tears stained the collar of his shirt. Copper had climbed into bed with them, despite being too large to be a lapdog, and curled around Y/N, an added comfort to that of Bucky’s arms.

Nothing would make it easier. Especially not watching him walk away.

Y/N shook her head in protest. “Please.” Bucky pulled back, cupping her face between his hands. His lips brushed her hairline delicately before dropping down to her lips and melding over them. The kiss was long and sweet. A promise of better times to come.

“I love you. I love you so much,” Bucky whispered. “More than life itself.”

Y/N gripped his wrists, his hands still holding her face. “I love you every second of every day.” She pressed another kiss to his lips, only parting when the train whistle blew. Her fingers found the chain of the pocket watch and they held it tight. She watched as Bucky gave Steve a hug, as he made his way to the train, rucksack slung over his shoulder.

Steve's arm draped over Y/N's shoulder, pulling her to his side. They waved the train off, watching until the last car disappeared from sight. Steve squeezed the girl's shoulder and led her out of the station.

----

“When do you leave?”

“Tomorrow.”

“So soon.”

“I don't have a choice, Y/N.”

“Yes, you do Steve. The fact that you think you don't is what makes this so much harder.”

“Look, they wanted me and this is something I need to do. For myself. I'm all alone now.”

“You have me.”

Steve brushed a strand of hair out of Y/N's face. Smiling, he said, “Yeah, I have you.”

A/N: There will be a part 2 :)

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war-sword · 6 years ago

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easter break (part 2)

summary: Draco invites you to Malfoy Manor for Easter break during your last year at Hogwarts. What ypu’d hoped would be a fine visit to Draco’s house with his family is anything but. Now, you’re back at Hogwarts for the rest of the term. What will happen? warnings: cursing words: 5,948 A/N: thank you SO much to everyone who showed interest in this fic and asked for a part 2!! this is for everyone who reblogged, liked, or commented on the original story. that being said, there will be no more parts after this because i am out of ideas, haha. if you are interested in any more of my writing, please head to my ask box or send me a message to be added to my taglist for all future posts. tags: @clockworkherondale @paigeyisme // read part 1 here

You woke up to the feeling of Draco’s hot breath on your neck and sweat between your legs. You couldn’t feel your entire left arm, as Draco was lying on it. As the events of yesterday came back to you, you felt your chest constrict with anxiety. Immediately you wished for the void of sleep again. As gently as you could, you slid your arm from beneath Draco’s torso, gently rubbing it to get the feeling back. Your neck was sore- you and Draco hadn’t moved in your sleep all night.

Despite how you tried not to move very much, Draco stirred, blinking his eyes sleepily as he woke. The sight of his slate-grey eyes looking so sad first thing in the morning made you want to start crying all over again.

Today there were no ‘good morning’s’. Instead, Draco just opened his arms back up and you held each other again, this time in a more comfortable position.

After being awake for a while, you heard the telltale sound of a house elf apparating into a room. “Master Draco, I apologize for the intrusion, but your presence is required downstairs at once,” the elf growled from somewhere at the foot of the bed, disapparating without further comment.

“For the love of Merlin,” Draco muttered. He kicked off the blankets and you unattached yourselves, and Draco slipped on some pants and a robe.

You sat up, pulling the sheets around your shoulders. Draco lifts your face to his for a quick kiss. “I’ll make sure this doesn’t take too long,” he says. “I hate to leave you alone.”

You put your hand over his and lift his fingers up to your lips. “I’ll be okay,” you whisper against his hand.

Draco lets go of your hand and disappears before your eyes. You lay back on the pillows and stare out across the gardens. Today, it is sunny.

“It was mother… she said I’m not to go back to school for the rest of the term. I’m not supposed to be telling you this, any of this actually. She said I was to ask you where your loyalties lie and to make a decision about joining our family or not, but I can’t do that to you.” Draco lay flat on the bed, gaze locked on the canopy above as you stroked his fine blonde hair.

“Why? Why can’t you come back to school?” You have a sick feeling you already know.

“Father and Aunt Bella think the time is drawing near. I don’t know what Potter and the others are up to but I think we’re about at the end of the line, y/n.” He turns his head to look at you. “The war.”

Your heart catches in your throat, and your hand stills on Draco’s hair. He shoots into a sitting position and puts his hands on your cheeks. “Listen to me, y/n. I love you so, so much. I’ve already failed once. If I don’t do what my parents want, what he wants, we could all die. I can’t let anything happen to you, and I won’t. If something happens, I’ll come for you, I swear it.”

“I know,” you sigh, leaning into his hand. “Will you tell me what’s going on? Will you write?”

“I’ll tell you everything I know. I refuse to let anything like yesterday happen again,” Draco says feverently.

You spend the rest of the day in your shared room, packing and eating a small lunch. In the late afternoon, you dress in your uniform. Draco watches you in the mirror as you tie your colored tie. “Should I say goodbye to your parents?” You sort of hope the answer is no.

“Maybe we should just go downstairs as usual and hope we don’t encounter them.” Draco deadpans. It makes you smile a little.

You walk down the stairs, your trunk levitating behind you. “I’m sorry about your wand,” you say again.

“It’s fine,” he says, but you know it’s not. Draco was very attached to his first wand. “I’ll get it back.”

Outside in the manor’s driveway, your trunk gently settles to the ground. You give Draco one last hug. “I’ll miss you,” you breath into the crook of his neck.

“I’ll miss you so much,” he replies, one hand curling up into your hair to pull you closer. “Please stay safe.”

“I can handle myself,” you remind him.

“I know.” You can feel Draco’s smile against your temple. You pull away, and he kisses your forehead. One small wave goodbye, and you clutch your bag and apparate to the street outside of Kings Cross.

When you finally arrive back at Hogwarts, you try to be your normal positive self. “How was break, y/n?” Fine. “Do any of your homework?” Of course not. “Did you and Draco have lots of alone time?”, with a wink. Enough, also with a wink. “Where is he?” Still at home, he had family visiting. But as you laid in your bed back in your dorm, you couldn’t shake the cold feeling of the sheets around you, missing having a certain someone to cuddle up with.

The first few weeks back passed without much incident, but every time you heard whispers of Ron, Harry, and Hermione’s names, you would shiver. You would still listen though, just to make sure they weren’t dead.

Students from all years were being punished daily, and it seemed the only upside so far of Draco not being at school with you was no longer needing to sneak out under the noses of the Carrow twins to meet in the nighttime. You sent him a letter every other day, making sure to send your owl in the early hours of afternoon so Draco would receive them in the nighttime to reduce their chances of being intercepted. He’d write back at least bi-weekly, making sure to fill you in on any happenings. However, it seemed since the failed capture at the Manor over Easter break, Bellatrix had left and Lucius had not heard any new news from the Dark Lord. Neither of you were sure if this was a good thing or a bad thing.

The first evening in May, you were sitting in your dorm common room, when none other than Neville Longbottom burst in. “Neville, how in the bloody hell-”

“No time to explain,” he huffed, hands on his knees as he caught his breath. “One of your dorm mates told me… that you… taught yourself how to heal?” He asked.

“Um, yes, I can. Why?”

“Come with me. Please?” He held out a hand.

You followed Neville up the staircases to the fourth floor, where he paces back and forth in front of a blank wall. “Neville, will you please-” but to words died on your lips was a small, thin door materialized out of the wall. Neville motioned for you to follow him inside.

The room was big, but almost every available spaces was crowded with hammocks strung from the walls, and mattresses on the floors. At the back of the room there was a fireplace, and in front of it were several third years who had horrible slashes up and down their arms. Instantly, your mind transported you back to the Manor, and you saw the evil glint of Bellatrix’s knife, heard Hermione’s screams.

“Oh, god, I’m sorry,” Neville grasped your shoulders as your fought back a gag. “I, maybe should’ve warned you. But, I can’t heal them myself, not without the right plants. I was hoping you could help.”

You steadied your breathing. “No, no… it’s fine Neville. I can do it.” You gave him what you hoped was an encouraging smile.

One by one, you healed the cuts on the third years. Your work by now was nearly perfect, and only the deep ones ended in scars. After the last student was healed, you slumped against the wall, utterly exhausted.

“Thank you so much, I knew I could count on you,” Neville said, sounding relieved.

“Of course,” you replied, but inwardly you cringed. Neville shouldn’t trust you. No one should. “What is this place?”

“We’re hiding here, from the mess outside.” Neville explained. “We figured the war is coming. We’re searching for news about Harry and the others everyday, trying to keep morale up. This room is the only safe one in Hogwarts right now.”

“Are they alive?” You can’t help but ask. “Harry? Ron and Hermione?”

“We think so,” Neville says. “I think we would hear if they’d been killed, but no ones seen or heard from them since the start of the year.”

You gulp. “No news is good news, I suppose.”

“Yeah,” Neville agrees.

He offers to walk you back to your common room, but you insist you’ll be fine. The guilt of your knowledge about the trio gnaws at you, but you try to tamp it down. When you get back to your dorm, you go straight to the bathroom and turn on the shower. Sitting under the hot rain, you try to relax, but in the end your hot tears run right down the drain alongside the hot water and flecks of dried blood stuck to your hands. You miss Draco too much to think, and you lean against the wall, crying with your constellation necklace clutched in one fist and your lips pressed on your ring, hoping to Merlin he’s okay.

You’re not sure how long you’ve been sat there, but you get broken out of your stupor by one of your dorm mates yelling your name.

“Y/n! Get out of there! We’ve got to go down to the Great Hall right away, robes on!”

Shit. You shut the water off and dry as quick as you can, throwing on your uniform from earlier in the day. As you troop down to the common room with your dorm mates, you dry your hair with a wave of your wand. The Great Hall is cleared of it’s tables, and you all stand in your proper lines with the rest of your house. Complete silence envelopes the Hall as Headmaster Snape turns to address everyone The tension is palpable.

“I’m sure many of you are wondering why I summoned you at this hour,” Snape begins. “It’s come to my attention that earlier this evening, Harry Potter was sighted in Hogsmead.”

You gasp. A wave of murmurs sweeps through everyone in the room. He’s alive, he’s okay, Harry’s okay.

“Now,” Snape said loudly, cutting everyone off. “Should anyone, student or staff, attempt to aid mister Potter, they will be punished. Anyone with knowledge of these events will be treated as equally guilty.

“Now then, has anyone had any knowledge of mister Potter’s activities this evening?” Snape steps down from the front of the room, ready to walk through your rows. The only sound in the room is the tapping of Snape’s shoes, and the drag of his robes on the floor. “If so, I invite you to step forward, now.”

Three rows back on your right, you hear someone get out of line. Astonished, you whip your head around, only to see no one other than Harry standing in the aisle, dressed in a Gryffindor robe. “It seems, despite your exhaustive defensive measures, you still have a slight breach in security, headmaster.”

The doors at the back of the Hall open, and in walks a group of people you don’t recognize, except for Ron and Hermione. But Harry isn’t finished. “How dare you stand where he stood!” He yells. “Tell them! Tell them how it happened that night! How you killed Dumbledore!”

Another gasp ripples through the students. You must be the only other person in this room who knew what happened that evening on the Astronomy tower.

With one smooth movement, Snape draws his wand. Immediately, everyone backs away, and you’re nearly crushed by the wave of people moving out of the way. Harry doesn’t even have time to draw his wand, before Professor McGonagall steps in front of him. Your dorm mate reaches out and grabs your hand. You squeeze back.

Snape and McGonagall begin trading spells. Your eyes are wide as your teachers fight. You’ve never seen grown adults fight like this, and both have a face of sheer determination. But the duel only lasts a moment, when Snape suddenly disapparates in a cloud of black, bursting through the window of the Great Hall. Everyone erupts into cheers. Everyone, except for you.

Your dorm mate tries to cling onto your hand, but you’re running. Running out of the hall and up the stairs, taking them two at a time, desperate to get to your room. As you sprint down the corridors, you can see outside: a iridescent veil is criss-crossing the sky, forming a dome around the castle. Statues in the courtyard come to life, drawing stone weapons.

It’s happening, and neither you nor Draco were ready for it.

You burst into your dorm and begin ripping through your belongings. You frantically shuffle through Draco’s letters with shaky hands, searching for the one you’re looking for. But you’re hyperventilating, and your vision is getting fuzzy, and oh God, did you dream it? Did Draco not tell you a place to go that was safe in the castle? You can’t remember anymore, you can’t read the words on the page that are in Draco’s elegant, looping handwriting. You strip off your uniform cloak and try to get a hold of yourself.

You’re strong. You can fight, one of the top duelists of your year. You can fight and stay safe, and you will find Draco.

None of your roommates come back. You sit in front of the window that overlooks the east side of the school, and you wait. You wait for hours. You feel like coward, sitting in your room, watching the window, but you’re waiting, staying safe just like Draco told you to do.

You almost think for a moment that you were wrong, when you see a small part of the dome turn red, then grow larger, as if it’s almost burning away. A piece of the magical dome flutters past your window, and you know it’s time.

Outside, the corridors are chaos. Everyone is running, yelling, going to someplace they think is most safe. People are crowded in corners, bawling their eyes out. You run down the stairs, wand clutched at the ready. Down on the lower floors, you can hear jinxes hitting walls and people screaming, you pass by people laying on the floor. You try not to look too closely.

You weave in and out of familiar corridors, trying to think. Where should you go? Back to your dorm? Are Neville and the rest of those kids still in the room of requirement? Was Draco even here? You retrace your steps back the the main staircase, following a wave of students. You branch off, headed toward a corridor you know is a good shortcut to the dungeons, when you feel a hand close around the back of your collar and pull you off to the side of the corridor.

Fear takes over, and you twist out of the person’s grasp, wand at the ready. But you’re stopped by a pair of familiar lips crashing into yours, a clean scent that smells like home enveloping you as a pair of arms tug you close. As soon as the realization hits you, you push his jaw away, your eyes flying open. “Draco?”

Soft, grey eyes lock with yours. Draco runs his fingers along your jaw. “I told you I would come for you.”

You kiss him again, deeply this time. You cling to each other with desperate need, and for a moment, the sounds and feeling of the rushing people around you fade away. Draco pulls away first this time.

“Come, hurry. I need to get my wand from Potter.” You lace your fingers together as you sprint through the halls.

“How do you know where he is?” You yell as you run.

“I overheard them on the first floor, they’re headed to the Room of Requirement.”

Sure enough, as you reach the empty fourth floor, the door to the Room of Requirement is vanishing back into nothing. For the first time, you look down and notice a wand in Draco’s hand. “Who’s is that?”

“Mother’s,” Draco says, striding towards the wall. “The Dark Lord took father’s some months ago, and Mother gave me this to defend myself with tonight.” Draco spins and faces you. “I can’t leave her defenseless like that. I need to get mine back, and return this to her, then we can all get the fuck out of here.”

“Okay,” you say, your mind spinning as the large doors appear on the wall again. “But let me talk to him-- Harry. You two don’t exactly get on. Maybe I can convince him.”

Draco nods. “Okay.”

The doors open, and you step into the room for Hiding. You’d come here before with Draco to watch him work with the vanishing cabinet. As the two of you walk between the towering stacks, you think about all the things you done with Draco which could possibly be categorized into ‘The Dark Lord’s Unknowing Bidding’. It terrified you.

The two of you freeze, when you hear a clatter around a corner, and then a curse that sounds like Harry’s voice. You turn to Draco, a finger to your lips, and he nods. You go off in the direction of the noise.

You turn the corner ahead of you, and there is Harry, holding what looks like a tiara. He looks up, eyes wide, and for a moment neither of you say anything.

“Harry,” your voice comes out with a crack. “You… you’re okay.”

"Y/n." Harry’s lip twitches. “I’ve been better, I suppose.”

You stand there awkwardly for another beat. “Listen, about that day-”

“It doesn’t matter,” Harry cuts you off. “You did what you could. But, why? You two knew it was me. Why did Malfoy lie?”

“I… I dunno. I guess only he could answer that. He never told me,” you say, looking down at your feet. “Listen, Harry… I know you have Draco’s wand. He really needs it back.” You spare a glance at the piece of Hawthorn wood clutched in Harry’s hand.

Harry’s face takes on it’s usual look of arrogance. “Well, I sort of need it probably a little more than he does. Now if you don’t mind I’ll…”

Harry trails off, and you feel Draco’s presence behind you. You turn, and see Draco glaring at Harry, wand raised. You turn back in a huff. “Bloody fuck, Draco.”

“Malfoy,” Harry spits.

“You heard her. If you would, hand over my property,” Draco sneers. You can’t help but roll your eyes at their usual bickering, despite the circumstances.

One of them seems likely to spit another insult, when Ron and Hermione come barreling around the corner. “A SPRITE!” Ron cries, “A DUST SPRITE SET THE BLOODY PLACE ON FIRE!”

Hermione grabs Harry’s hand as she runs past, and the three disappear down the aisle next to them. You hear the fire before you see it, but the wall of orange flame quickly proceeds the crackling sound. “Oh, fucking hell!”

You grab Draco’s hand and you quickly start sprinting back the way you came. At least you think it’s the way you came, but the fire starts coming from all sides, and you don’t which way to go. Next to you, Draco looks terrified.

“Climb!” You yell. If you can get to the top of a stack and locate the door, maybe you can use a water spell to get through the fire. You and Draco frantically scramble up a pile of chairs and tables, but the smoke is getting too thick to see through. Everywhere around you is flames of orange, and they’re already starting to lick up the sides of the pile.

Both of you desperately cast water charms to fend off the fire, but it’s almost no use. You’re beginning to think you’re going to die in the Room, when you spot movement out of the corner of your eye-- It’s the trio, on brooms, headed straight towards you. As the pass overhead, Ron reaches down and grabs you by the arm, jerking you up and into the air with him.

You clamber on behind him, one hand gripping your wand and the other the broom for dear life. You look around Ron’s torso to see Hermione cast a water charm that hold back the flames just long enough for the three of you to fly through. The moment the broom exits the door, you and Ron bail, the broom hitting the far wall of the corridor and splintering. Next to you, Hermione nearly crashes as well, and Draco and Harry land beside you to your left. You curl up on your side, coughing uncontrollably. The smoke is still stinging your eyes, and they water.

“Harry, the Horcrux!” Hermione screeches. You barely have time to wipe your eyes as the trio sits up, also coughing. Harry rolls away from Draco and tosses the tiara he was holding earlier onto the floor, and Ron, who’s the only one on his feet, gives it a hard kick. It flies into the fire, emitting a horrible screech and black smoke before the doors to the Room slam shut.

“Bloody Hell,” Ron swears, putting his hands on his knees before breaking into another coughing fit.

Harry scrambles to his feet. “The cup? Is it gone?”

Hermione produces a small, blackened goblet from inside her jacket. Ron pulls her to her feet, and the three of them take off down the hall at a remarkable speed. You’re just now regaining your ability to breathe. “Hey, Dray?” You stretch your your hand to feel for Draco’s, and you’re able to hook the tips of your fingers together and you lay on the floor, catching your breath.

“What’s up, sweets?” He manages.

“I said, let me do the talking.”

Draco lets out a raspy laugh, and you turn your head to look at him. He’s got a smudge of soot on his cheek and ash in his platinum hair. “I know, I’m sorry.”

You both get up slowly. Draco still has Narcissa’s wand clutched firmly in his hand. “What do we do now?”

“We need to find a place to hide,” says Draco. “I can’t find my parents now. It’s too difficult.” He swallows thickly. “Come on, I know a place we can go.”

You take off down the halls again, this time at a slower pace. Draco leads you to a corridor you’ve ever been to before, and at the end there’s a small alcove, that leads to a tiny nook behind the wall. One skinny window offers a view to the forest side of the castle, and moonlight streams though it. Draco slumps against the wall and removes his jacket. You waste no time settling into his lap, your arms around his neck. You both smell like fire and are covered in soot, but it's the safest you've felt in weeks.

“My heart is still beating so fast,” you whisper.

“I know,” Draco replies. “Mine, too.”

After a while, the adrenaline leaves you, and you feel utterly exhausted. That combined with being back in Draco’s strong arms, it’s enough for you to fall asleep for a little while.

You wake in the same position, Draco gently stroking your hair. “Hi.”

“Hey,” you say, you voice still a bit raspy.

“You, um, you missed it. He spoke.” You don’t need to ask to know who ‘he’ is.

“How? What did he say?”

“I don’t know, but it was like his voice was everywhere.” Draco’s grip on your shoulder tightens ever so slightly when he says that. “He’s called everyone off. To let people gather the dead. Potter has one hour to turn himself over, or they’ll all come back.”

You digest what Draco has just said. “What time is it?”

“It’s just past four in the morning, I reckon.”

“Draco, I don’t want to go.” Your voice sounds small in the tiny space.

“I don’t want to go either.” He whispers.

So you don’t. You stay in the tiny room at the end of the corridor for a little while longer. Draco tells you how lonely he was at home without you, and you tell him about your equally empty-feeling month at school.

“I can’t live without you again, y/n.”

“I can’t either,” you reply immediately, grasping Draco’s hand.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Anything.”

“...will you be my girlfriend?”

You lift your head off Draco’s chest to look him in the eye, feeling shocked..

Draco starts again. “I’m only asking because I think it would be inappropriate to ask for your hand if we aren't officially togeth-”

You cut off his words with a kiss, not like your one in the hall hours ago, but a softer one, that reminded you of a time before, two years ago in a broom closet similar to the nook you were in now. Your lips part gently. “Of course, love,” you whisper against his mouth. “You think I wear this ring for no reason?”

Draco looks up at you. “Merlin, I don’t know how I made it one day without you.”

“I’m not sure either.”

Your limbs are tangled together, lips moving in tandem, when your attention is caught by a bright flash of red and white from outside the small window. Sparks are coming up from somewhere in the Forbidden Forest. You can Draco look for a moment before his hands tighten at your clothes. “We have to go.” Draco says.

You make your way through the empty halls, most of which are full of rubble. A whole side of the main staircase has been obviated. You near the Great Hall, and you hear voices. The two of you peek around the corner, and your breath catches. Laid in neat rows along the floor of the great hall are at least thirty bodies; students, teachers, people you don’t recognize. You pull back from around the corner, crashing into Draco’s chest. He pulls you against him instantly. “Hey, hey it’s okay. Just breathe,” he soothes.

“Draco… there’s so many. We didn’t do anything to help.” Tears spring to your eyes.

To this, Draco says nothing. You pull away and rub your eyes with the back of your hand, forcing yourself to pull it together. You peer around the corner again, your eyes sweeping the bodies quickly to see if there’s anyone you know. The only person you recognize is Ron Weasley’s older brother. His whole family is here, and Ron is sat on the ground near him, one of Hermione’s arms across his shoulders.

You’re still watching the scene in the Hall when feel Draco’s arm stiffen against your back. You turn back to ask him what’s wrong, when you your eyes catch on what he’s looking at. Through the crumbling entrance to the courtyard, you see a large group of people dressed in black making their way across the main bridge to Hogwarts. A familiar looming figure rises above the rest, a smaller body clutched in his arms.

You’re not the only person who’s noticed. People gather near you and Draco at the entrance to the Great Hall, watching the horrible procession grow closer. You and Draco both feel rooted to the spot as everyone comes closer into view-- Voldemort, live and in the flesh, stands barefoot as his Death Eaters fiil the courtyard behind him, a massive python slithering around his legs. Hagrid stands just behind him, holding a limp Harry in his arms. You feel like you can’t breath. Ron, Hermione, and Ginny push their way out of the Great Hall and run down the stairs. Other students and adults follow them.

Hagrid is sobbing, clutching Harry close to his chest. Voldemort raises his hands. “Harry Potter… is dead!”

Ginny screams in anguish, and Ron holds her back from lunging at him. She sinks to the ground with her brother, sobbing. You and Draco inch towards to the courtyard doorway, looking across the crowd. You finally get a good look at Harry laying lifeless in Hagrid’s embrace, and you put a hand over your mouth.

“Stupid girl,” Voldemort drawls. “Harry Potter is dead. From this day forward, you put your faith, in me.” He turns away from Ginny’s hunched form, and turns to the Death Eaters behind him. “Harry Potter is dead!”

They all chorus their laughs, Draco’s aunt Bellatrix’s high-pitched cackle rising over all the rest. She skips forward with glee, balancing herself on a piece of rubble to better survey the scene below. But you notice one figure in the front who is not laughing like the rest. With a jolt, you recognize her across the courtyard as Narcissa, standing next to Lucius. She’s scanning the crowd, looking for her son.

“Draco,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper. You don’t dare glance over to see his reaction, but Draco squeezes your hand in acknowledgement.

“Now is the time to declare yourself!” Voldemort decrees. “Come forward and join us, or die.”

No one moves.

Then, softly across the silent courtyard, Lucius calls. “Draco.”

Your heart clamps in your chest. You didn’t know they’d spotted him.

“Draco,” he says again, this time with more desperation.

You spare a glance up at your boyfriend. His eyes aren’t even on his parents, instead they’re focused on the ground in front of him. He’s gripping your hand so hard it’s almost painful. Your eyes dart back across the courtyard, and you see his parents standing there with absolute desperation painted all over their faces. Everyone around you has turned to look, to see what Draco does. Voldemort is looking right at him.

“Draco, come.” This time it’s Narcissa. Draco squeezes his eyes shut.

You try to loosen your grip in Draco’s hand, to tell him to just go, to leave you, but he just holds on tighter. Draco gives the smallest shake of his head.

Voldemort tilts his head to the side, taking in the exchange with interest. “Well, Lucius, it seems your son is still just as insubordinate and… lovestruck as the last time we spoke.” Lucius, mortified, steps back into the crowd of Death Eaters behind him. Narcissa looks stricken by Draco’s betrayal. “Draco, it’s such a pity. Your aunt was always quick to vouch for your skills.”

Indeed, Bellatrix looks confused by the scene unfolding in front of her, arms crossed but a look of confusion on her face. She doesn’t try to plead with Draco as his parents had, however.

“Not to worry, we’ll sort this out,” Voldemort assures. He raises his hand, his knobby wand pointed at Draco.

You move on instinct, stepping in front of Draco as the spell sparks from the tip of Voldemort’s wand. You swipe your wand in front of you and Draco, effectively blocking the green killing curse. Assorted gasps rise up from both sides of the courtyard. Voldemort has a look of genuine shock on his face.

“He is not going to be the one to die today.” You say with as much confidence as you can muster.

In the silent moment hanging in the air after your declaration, Neville moves forward, a slight limp in his step. He clutches the tattered sorting hat in one of his hands. “She’s right, you know.”

Voldemort slowly lowers his wand, looking at Neville with fascination.

“Yes, Harry is dead. But he’s still with us, in here.” Neville points to his heart. “And so is everyone else lying in that Hall right now. None of them died in vain, but you will! Because you’re wrong! Harry’s heart did beat for us! For all of us!” Neville reaches into the sorting hat, pulling the gleaming sword of Gryffindor from it’s depths. At that precise moment, Harry rolls from Hagrid’s arms, very much alive. All the students and teachers erupt into cheers.

It’s chaos again. Harry shoots a fire spell at the snake around Voldemort’s feet, and Death Eaters fly away into the sky in clouds of black. Neville runs forward, the sword in hand, slashing at the snake. You pull Draco with you as you run down the side of the stairs, headed towards the hall that goes around the courtyard. “Come on, we have to get to your parents!”

Draco, the stronger one, pulls you behind a pillar instead. “Why did you do that?” He cries, nearly hysterical. “If you’d been hit I would’ve-”

“Been alive! That’s what matters to me!” You screech over the noise of battle. “Too many of my classmates died today because we didn’t help them, and I sure as hell was not going to let you join them!”

You’re not sure if Draco’s about to argue back or kiss you, but he doesn’t get the chance. Two people are running down the hall, screaming his name. His parents.

Draco lets go of your hand somewhat reluctantly, but collapses into his mother’s arms. She holds onto him tightly while Lucius stands awkwardly to the side. She pulls back and Draco puts her wand in her hands. “I’m sorry,” he chokes out.

“Don’t apologize, Draco. You made the right decision.” Narcissa grips Draco’s wrists, and gives him a kiss on his cheek. She catches your gaze over his shoulder and lets go of her son.

She takes a few steps towards you and takes you into a tight embrace. “Thank you. Thank you for saving him,” she whispers into your ear. In the moment, all you can do his hug her back.

Narcissa holds you at arm’s length, and turns back to her family. “We need to leave, right now,” she says.

Narcissa is still holding onto you, intending for all four of you to make your escape. But you stand firm, catching her and Lucius by surprise. “I can’t leave,” you say. “My friends are here. I won’t stand by again and do nothing while they protect our school.”

“Then I’m staying, too,” Draco says firmly.

“Draco, stop this. You made your statement, you chose her once, but now we need to leave.” Lucius almost growls.

“I’m done doing what you want, father.” Draco spits.

Lucius eyes are nearly aflame, but Narcissa steps between them. “Enough.” She turns to Draco one last time. “Please, be safe. Come back to us in one piece.” She grabs her husband’s arm, and the two of them disappear in a cloud of black smoke.

When the dust finally settles, there is only one body lying on the ground. And this time, it isn’t Harry’s. The Boy Who Lived had finally prevailed, the wizarding world safe from his thirst for absolute power. There is celebration, but it’s somber. You and Draco sit in the corner of the great hall, holding each other close. No one really comes near you two. Across the Great Hall, you make eye contact with Harry. You exchange a look of mutual understanding, and a nod. That’s all.

In time, you heal. You still wake often, in a cold sweat, Draco’s lifeless face imprinted onto the back of your eyelids, or the feeling of near death gripping your own chest. But he is always right beside you in the bed, breathing and alive.

You go with him to his parents trials, holding his hand as you listen to the minister give his father a life sentence. Dry his tears when you finally return home. His mother visits the two of you frequently.

You move the ring from your right hand to your left. You’re missing a lot of things, but at least he’s not one of them.

#draco x reader #draco imagine #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy #draco malfoy x you #draco malfoy imagine #my writing

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lilacflamesss · 5 years ago

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In the Silence (Chapter 2)

Kacchako Fake Dating College AU

Summary: Ochako has always had feelings for her best friend from high school, Izuku. However, she’s never been able to make any progress towards a relationship with him. After a friend plants an idea into her head, Ochako tries to stir some jealousy within Izuku through dancing with Katsuki, who she happens to meet and befriend in a club. Little did Ochako realise that there’s more than just jealousy being stirred up. Katsuki is an exchange student who returned to Tokyo after ten years of living abroad. Bearing a childhood grudge, he finds the perfect opportunity to get back at Izuku for what happened all those years ago. But plans never go as smoothly as one expects.

A college AU with the 1A kids, where they go about their everyday lives in their second year of college. After getting to know each other, Ochako and Katsuki wonder if there's something they both can achieve by pretending to be a couple.

Rating: Explicit

Warning: AGED-UP characters. All smut scenes are consensual and between adults. Heavy sexual content. Please consider before reading it you’re uncomfortable with such content! No hard feelings!!

A/N: Hi everyone! So I’ve really been meaning to write a Kacchako fic ever since I got into BNHA but I ended up procrastinating it a lot thanks to my writer’s block following a whole Tumblr mess. I had intended initially to start this off on Kacchako Week Day 3 since the prompt was fake dating but my internship was keeping me really busy. The week has ended but it’s fine. I’ll just release it as it is! I hope everyone will show support to this fic! Please do reblog this and feel free to leave some comments!

Preview:

Katsuki glances over. There are only three seats beside her and one has her bag on it. The lecture hall has gotten pretty crowded. Their row’s pretty filled up as well. There’s only one seat between Katsuki and the next person. He realises that this might just be another God-given chance.

“There’s a seat here,” Katsuki says. The girls look over to him, finally realising the presence of both Eijirou and him. The girl from last night stiffens, her eyes going wide and her cheeks blowing up in red.

Mina, who’s now turned away from her, doesn’t notice her reaction. She grins. “Oh, that’s nice! If Eijirou and you could move—”

Oh hell no.

“One of your girls could come over,” Katsuki cuts in, keeping his eyes fixed on the girl from last night. He watches her, judging her reaction. He’s keen to get to know more about her— her interest in Izuku is still a burning question he has in his mind— but he doesn’t want to push her too far. She’s clearly embarrassed but he can tell from the way her body relaxes after a second that she’s not uncomfortable at the very least.

“That’s fine too,” she says and Katsuki smirks. Her voice is as cute as he recalls. She had sound different when she was moaning under him, but the sweetness in her voice still remains.

“Are you sure, Ochako?” one of their other friends asks. Her voice has a dignified tinge to it— she sounds like a princess from a renowned family even— and he can tell that she’s already uncomfortable with the idea of her friend sitting beside him. Katsuki can’t tell for sure, but he knows that even from his appearance, he’s rarely made a good first impression on anyone.

“It’s fine,” Ochako— he finally has a name to her— says. “I know him.”

“You look horrified to see him,” Mina’s headphoned friend speaks up.

Ochako smiles at him— the same cute, innocent smile she had given him before they fell asleep last night. “No, I was just surprised.”

The first thing he notices when he wakes up is the smell of flowers. It smells a lot like a flower field, kind of like the ones he had visited with his parents during vacations. He’s never been the biggest fan of flowers and he wonders why his room smells like them in the first place. His mother had packed air fresheners for him to use for his room. He doesn’t recall opening them yet, but he does remember that they were meant to be ocean-scented— not floral.

His face feels ticklish. Something long and soft is pressed against it, the various strands stroking him even from the slightest of movements. He opens his eyes, blinking rapidly to orientate himself. He sees darkness in front of him— a shade of dark brown. It takes a couple more seconds for him to realise that it’s a head. There’s a person with him— in front of him— pressed against him. He slept with someone.

He raises his body slightly and looks around the place. His initial questions are answered instantly. He isn’t in his room. He’s in someone else’s. The memories of the previous night take their time, surfacing in his mind as and when they wish. He had met a girl last night and he’d fucked her in his car before taking her to her home. He had taken things too far last night; he doesn’t have a habit of taking anyone home— or being taken to anyone’s home— on a school night. He’s not late for classes since they only start in the afternoon; it only looks like it’s a little past sunrise now. He had missed out on a night of reading the syllabus. As irrelevant as it may seem to most students, Bakugou Katsuki prefers staying ahead of the class. He’s always prepared, as he should be.

The girl remains fast asleep as he slowly climbs out of her bed. It’s a surprise how she’s still sleeping. They’d been really close to each other due to the size of the bed; the bed is only a little larger than a single one— not quite a double bed— and they had to squeeze beside each other for the night. Normally, he’d had left after they were done but, again, he had taken things too far. He shouldn’t have taken it beyond one round. He’s at least glad that he had stopped himself from trying out some other things with her— out of consideration, given that it was her first time.

He picks his jeans up, fishing his phone out of his pocket before he starts to pull them on. It’s only eight in the morning, but even then, it’s later than when he normally wakes up. Last night must have been good, even if it’s all a blur to him right now. He puts on his t-shirt and gives the girl one last look. He had already noticed how small she is when he had her pressed against him last night. As she lays alone on that tiny bed, she looks smaller than ever. The covers had been thrown off her partially, from when he had gotten up, and it gives him a better look at the creamy skin of hers; it was dark last night and he hadn’t had a good look. His eyes linger on her ass, remembering how soft it had felt in his hands last night and how he could barely keep himself from touching it. She might be minute but she sure is curvy; the universe had been generous with her hips and chest— and her cheeks. But as sexy as she might be, Katsuki was— and is— just plain curious about this girl.

This girl is Deku’s girl after all.

Midoriya Izuku had been a constant thorn in his life from ever since he could remember. Izuku is probably the main reason why he doesn’t remember anything sweet about his life in Japan in the first place. He had been a king once but after what happened with Izuku, his life had been miserable up till his father had gotten the job posting in New York and the whole family had packed up and left. He hadn’t kept in touch with anyone from his elementary school until Eijirou managed to somehow find him on a random social media site during their high school days.

He hadn’t bothered with getting updated with anyone’s life, as much as Eijirou was willing to spill the details about every single person Katsuki had come into contact with in their elementary school. Katsuki had managed to shut Eijirou up until he was given the chance at a one-year exchange program from his university. It’s a rare opportunity and Katsuki’s mother had refused his decision to reject it. He didn’t really have a choice when he stepped on the plane back for Japan. Bakugou Mitsuki had gone ahead to inform Eijirou of Katsuki’s arrival as well, which didn’t leave him which much freedom when he arrived in Japan either. Eijirou was there, waiting for him at the airport, and afterwards, he had dragged Katsuki on a weekend-long trip around Musutafu to familiarise himself with the landscape which had changed much over time. Katsuki does have to admit— to himself and not to Eijirou— that this tour had been helpful and that had he been alone, he’d have to rely on the GPS for even the simplest thing like the nearest convenience store.

He had Eijirou show him around UA, the college he’s attending for exchange, as well. Eijirou had mentioned that a handful of their classmates from elementary school were attending as well but Katsuki had snapped at him to shut up before he could name any of them. Katsuki now wishes that he had listened. After seeing Izuku in the club the other day, he wonders if Izuku is attending UA as well. It’s the college closest to Izuku’s home after all and given his family background, Katsuki is sure that he won’t be schooling anywhere too far or costly. There’s still the chance that he might have skipped out on college altogether and gone straight to work but Katsuki knows the chances are pretty low.

And then, there’s this girl now. Katsuki doesn’t know what her history with Izuku is but they clearly have something deep enough for Izuku to react as strongly as he did the previous night. After Katsuki pulled her into a kiss, Izuku had looked like he was on the verge of murder, or perhaps, murder might not be the right expression. He’s sure someone as naive and docile as Izuku is incapable of even considering murder in a hypothetical situation— or even anything that would remotely harm another human being. Rather, Izuku had looked like he was on the verge of running up to Katsuki and the girl, grabbing her and running off.

Maybe, that was the ideal outcome she was hoping for as well.

Katsuki wonders how Izuku would react if he knew what Katsuki had done with her last night. That is a reaction Katsuki would give up anything to see. Granted, he didn’t fuck the girl so he could get back at Izuku— even Katsuki wouldn’t stoop so low. He had satisfied his bitter Deku-hating self through the dance and the kiss— maybe even walking out of the club while holding her hands.

Everything else that happened was just on her. He fucked her because he wanted her and because she wanted him just as much. He went home with her because he couldn’t get enough of the sweet melodious voice she let out when he had her bouncing on his dick. He went more than one round because the way she clamped down on him and pulled him in was too addictive. He stayed the night because there was something about this girl that made him want to be with her more— something that kept pulling him in.

But now, he has to go.

He pulls the covers up to her torso before he turns to leave. He picks the keys she had discarded on the table last night up and exits the apartment, locking the door securely behind himself before sliding the keys back in beneath the door. He’s unsure how safe it is in these parts of town, especially for a young, pretty girl like her. He’s sure there has to be at least one pervert in this building who has their eye on her.

Katsuki has never been to this part of town before, not even back when he lived here as a kid. Eijirou’s tour had only comprised of malls, cafes and clubs that were mostly at the higher-end parts of town, where both of them lived.

The apartment complex the girl lives in looks like it came right out of a horror movie. When Katsuki first saw it, it screamed at him to turn back and run. Maybe there are no humans to fear in a place like this (though he doubts it), but he’s not too sure about anything inhumane.

The elevator has a weird stench to it. Katsuki wrinkles his nose when he steps into it. Even though it’s been hours, it looks like it hadn’t been cleaned up. Nothing like this would happen in the apartment complex he’s living in right now. The elevator doesn’t smell like trash, despite the discarded cartons and cigarette buds that lay on the floor. Rather, there seems to be a rotten tinge to the air, as if the walls and railing are hiding something dead within them.

Katsuki has no idea how the girl is able to live in a place like this. How is she not afraid of the bugs on the walls? How does she not fear that maybe one day some creep might rush out and attack her? God knows what happens to pretty girls like her in a place like this.

He might have voiced his concerns to her last night, but he held his tongue after catching her eye. Her gaze had a wariness in it that immediately put a wall between them— a silent warning to shut up. That wariness really should have been there when she was in the car with him alone as strangers but somehow this girl fears being judged for what she is more than what could have happened in his car.

Expectations are pretty much a big joke. Sometimes when you have them so low, you can be fed with something terrible and still think it’s amazing. But when you have expectations that are pretty much non-existent, coming across something beautiful simply amplifies the beauty in it.

The terrible apartment complex hadn’t prepared him for her apartment. He had walked into it expecting something like a worn-down prison cell, but what he got feels pretty much like a home.

The walls— which he’s sure are peeling and degrading— are covered in a dark wallpaper, dotted with white stars and occasional planet-themed designs. It is small, but somehow that makes it feel rather homely. There are two doors to the side, which he assumed then are probably the bathroom and her bedroom. He found out a little later that the one further in the apartment led to the bedroom— another tiny, but homely and well-decorated place with a simple layout of one bed in middle and a study table and a closet on either side. Other than that, the rest of the apartment is pretty much one big room. The only thing that separates the kitchen from the living area is a counter. The living area is simplistic, merely containing a faded brown couch and a small table in front of it. There is a television. It’s not the newest model and it’s tinier in comparison to what he has at home, but he supposes it’s enough for a simple, solitary life.

He’d always thought Izuku was struggling financially, but he saw then that maybe, it’s more common in this world to not have money than it is to have money. He always thought Izuku was an anomaly and that everyone else was like Katsuki— rich, comfortable and pampered. Eijirou doesn’t have pockets overflowing with cash but he’s sure Eijirou doesn’t know what it means to struggle with money either— not directly, at least. Maybe they’re anomalies, or maybe Izuku and this girl are the real anomalies, which is why they must get along so well. He wonders why a girl this poor would be after someone who’s just as poor. She’d probably be living a better life if she got a boyfriend that’s rich and would be willing to pull his wallet out for her at her every whim and fancy. From what Katsuki had seen of her, he knows there has to be more than one rich bastard out there who’s willing.

Katsuki gets into his car, but only after giving one final look at the apartment complex. She’s a pretty interesting girl and he had fun, but it’s time to forget about last night and to move on to more important things, like the fact that he has to be getting back to his own apartment to prepare himself for the start of the semester. He’s been acing every class and assignment back in New York, standing proudly above every student; he plans to do the same here in Musutafu as well.

~-~

“Where’d you disappear off to last night?” Eijirou doesn’t bother with afternoon greetings. He plops himself down on the seat beside Katsuki, elbowing him as he asks his question. “When I went looking for you, I couldn’t find you anywhere and your car was gone.”

“You were gone so I left,” Katsuki snaps in response. He isn’t in the mood to talk to Eijirou— he’s rarely in the mood. Eijirou is practically a chatterbox. He’s always smiling and barely anything ever gets to him. Katsuki and Eijirou are practically polar opposites; they’re the last pair that should ever be considered friends.

“No, I wasn’t gone, not before you. Didn’t you see my car before you drove off?” Eijirou watches him with a raised eyebrow— understandably so. Katsuki is pretty observant. If Eijirou’s car had really been there, he’d have noticed it easily on the way home. It’s bright red after all. But Katsuki had been distracted with the girl and searching for Eijirou’s car was the last thing on his mind when he entered the carpark last night. That made sense to him, but it obviously isn’t making any sense to Eijirou who’s in the dark about what happened.

“I must have had too much to drink. I didn’t see your shitty hair on the dance floor so I fuckin’ left,” Katsuki grumbles instead.

Eijirou leans back into his seat, shrugging. “Oh, that. I was with a girl in the bathroom.”

Katsuki does remember seeing Eijirou with a girl while he was dancing with Izuku’s girl. She had caught his eye simply because of how much she stood out— curly pink hair, a bright luminous pink dress and a pair of pink high-heeled leather boots. He had seen five-year-old girls dressed like that countless of times, but he doesn’t recall ever seeing so much pink on a girl who’s old enough to legally enter a club— that is, assuming she is legal in the first place.

Sights like that are so rare than no matter how irrelevant these extras might be, they’re bound to catch your eye wherever they are. Despite the crowd of people walking into their compulsory writing class, Katsuki immediately spots Eijirou’s girl from the back of their lecture hall they were in. The lighting here is much better but even then, all he gets from her is pink— a head of curly pink hair, a cropped pink jacket, a lighter pink dress and a pair of pink ankle boots with light pink leggings underneath. She’s walking in with her arms linked with another girl, who’s dressed much darker with headphones hanging around her neck.

“Oi, Kirishima,” Katsuki sighs lazily. When Eijirou looks up from his phone, Katsuki nods at the pair and Eijirou’s eyes widen. He gets to his feet immediately, waving.

“Oh! Ashido!” He looks elated to see her. The pink girl’s head snaps up and her eyes brighten just like Eijirou’s. She tugs on the arms of her friend, pulling her up towards Eijirou and Katsuki.

“Kirishima, what the fuck? I didn’t ask you to fucking call them here!” he yells out in horror as he watches the two girls hop up the stairs.

Eijirou looks at him, confused. “Why not? That’s Ashido Mina. I danced with her yesterday.”

“I know. I pointed out to you the girl you fucked last night but I didn’t ask you to call her here. We’re not here to fucking make friends,” Katsuki growls.

“Dude!” Eijirou gasps, lowering his voice. “She isn’t just some random girl I fucked.”

“Then?”

“I’ve known her from high school!” Eijirou says and to Katsuki’s surprise, Eijirou reddens a little. “I wanna get to know her better, man.”

“No way.”

“What?”

“No fuckin’ way are you in love with Pinky over there,” Katsuki snaps.

“I’m not in love—”

“Eijirou!” Eijirou is cut off by a cheery voice that goes off from behind him. Mina and her friends approach the two of them and without even asking if any of the seats are taken, she takes the seat beside Eijirou immediately. “Hi! I didn’t expect to see you here!”

“You told me you’re in UA, but I didn’t think you’d be taking Professor Aizawa’s class this semester as well!”

Katsuki watches Mina and Eijirou in disbelief, partly amazed that Eijirou is even capable of letting his voice go this soft for someone— that too, a girl. The two of them continue chatting, oblivious to their surroundings. Mina’s friend takes the seat beside her, pulling on her phone and scrolling through it. She doesn’t seem too keen on socialising with anyone and Katsuki is grateful for that. He doesn’t know how he’d take another Mina, especially if she starts clinging onto and talking to him. Just like Mina’s friend, Katsuki starts to scroll through his phone. His friends— or rather, people he knew— from back home are starting their semesters in his university as well and seeing their posts online makes him groan once again at the terrible fate he’s going through right now.

“Ocha!” Mina’s voice makes Katsuki jump in his seat, the sudden shrillness taking him by surprise even despite the buzzing voices of all the students around them. Mina has jumped up to her feet and is waving at someone— a lot like Eijirou had done earlier on. She turns to Eijirou and Katsuki, clasping her hands together. “Do you mind if some of my friends came and joined us?”

“Yes,” Katsuki says immediately, making Mina’s eyes go wide as Eijirou stares at him with a sigh. He turns to Mina, taking her hand.

“Look, ignore him. It’s fine, call them over,” he says.

Mina frowns, hesitating. “I don’t know if your friend minds, I could always just go over to sit with Ochako and the rest instead.”

That sounds like music to his ears. He can’t imagine sitting with a group of girls, especially not if they’re all going to sound like Mina. He looks towards the direction Mina had waved at, fully expecting to see some kind of bimbotic crowd, only to freeze up at the sight of another familiar face.

It’s the girl from last night. She’s standing by the door with two other girls, looking around in confusion, as if looking for someone in the crowd before her. Everyone else who’s entering the hall seems to locate seats immediately and take them. It’s hard to imagine that Mina would be looking for someone else. Katsuki turns his attention back to Eijirou and Mina, who are still arguing over the seats.

“It’s fine, Ei. I can just sit with Ocha and the rest downstairs. It’ll be fine,” she insists. Mina starts to pick up her pink bag. Beside her, her friend is looking up at her, frowning slightly.

He realises that this is practically an opportunity being presented to him on a silver platter. What are the chances that he’s taking the same class as that fucking hot girl from last night; what are the chances that he’s taking the same class as Deku’s fucking hot girl? This might give him more to flex at Izuku over. He could get friendlier with her. She had seemed like a nice and fun person to be around. Talking to her hadn’t been annoying, which is pretty rare for Katsuki. On top of all that, he might have some more fun too.

“It’s fine,” he says gruffly, trying his best to appear as uninterested as he could be. “Call them over.”

Mina’s eyes shine immediately and she goes back to waving and jumping to get her friends’ attention. “Tsu! Yaomomo! Ocha!” She screams at the top of her lungs and eventually, the girl from last night looks up. Her face blossoms into a smile at the sight of Mina and she rushes up, her two other friends following behind her.

Tsu. Yaomomo. Ocha. They’re obviously nicknames Mina had given them. One of them had to be for her, but he can’t really make out which one it is.

He watches, as subtly as he can, as the girl runs over to Mina and hugs her tight. Girls confuse him a little. If Mina and Eijirou had been together last night, it would probably mean that they had gone to the club together. Yet, they’re hugging as if they hadn’t met in years.

“There are only two seats here, by the way. I’m saving one for Denki,” Mina’s first friend says.

Mina, who’s now turned away from her, doesn’t notice her reaction. She grins. “Oh, that’s nice! If Eijirou and you could move—”

Oh hell no.

“That’s fine too,” she says and Katsuki smirks. Her voice is as cute as he recalls. She had sound different when she was moaning under him, but the sweetness in her voice still remains.

“It’s fine,” Ochako— he finally has a name to her— says. “I know him.”

“You look horrified to see him,” Mina’s headphoned friend speaks up.

Ochako smiles at him— the same cute, innocent smile she had given him before they fell asleep last night. “No, I was just surprised.”

She makes her way past Eijirou and Katsuki before sitting herself down beside him. They’re silent for a moment until she sighs and turns to him.

“What are you doing here?” she asks.

“I’m here for class, Roundface. What the fuck would I be doing here if not for that?” Katsuki snaps.

“This is a class for Year 2 students,” she says frankly. “You look like you’re older.”

“How fucking old did you think I am?” he snarls.

She looks at him. She actually takes a long look at him from head to toe and deep down in his gut, something stirs again, just like it did when she had looked at him naked last night and licked her lips. He tries to focus on the sound of Eijirou’s voice beside him to keep himself from getting a boner right there and then. Thankfully, it helps.

After a long moment of silence, she shrugs. “Older.”

“Older,” he scoffs, leaning back into his seat. “Yeah, ok. Sure.”

She giggles at his comment and surprisingly, he doesn’t get as annoyed as he thought he’d be. He’d have ripped the heads of anyone else had they tried that on him. She smiles at him again and holds out her hand.

“I’m Uraraka Ochako. Nice to meet you,” she says.

He eyes her hand for a moment. He doubts he actually shook hands like this with someone before. He reaches out slowly but before he can take hers, she reaches and takes his, shaking it with a tight grip. He supposes it’s only common courtesy to share his name with her as well.

“I’m Bakugou Katsuki. Nice to meet you.”

“Bakugou Katsuki, huh?” Her voice is playfully as she chuckles over his name. She turns her eyes to the front of the class, where their Professor is now setting up. “I like your name, Bakugou.”

He realises that his heart is beating faster than it normally does. There’s a bitter taste in his mouth, though, when he hears that it’s his last name that rolls off her tongue.

~-~

Mina invites Eijirou and Katsuki to join her group for lunch. Aside from the girls, there’s also another boy now— a blonde boy in a leather jacket who Katsuki assumes is headphone girl’s boyfriend. He remembers her calling him Denki. Katsuki is sure Mina just wants to spend more time with Eijirou, who she clearly couldn’t stop talking to in lecture, but he has no issues with lunch when he sees that Ochako is there as well. He makes sure to sit beside her in the cafeteria as Eijirou and Mina sit across them. He doesn’t really pay much mind to the extras at the other end of the table, that is until he hears a certain name.

“It’s a pity that Iida, Midoriya and Todoroki weren’t allocated this class this semester,” the green girl sighs. She’s a lot like Mina in her appearance, except she’s green and her style isn’t as extravagant as the latter.

Katsuki stiffens at the name she mentions and he could see Eijirou flashing him a cautionary gaze. Katsuki rolls his eyes in response. He doesn’t need Eijirou out of all people warning him about blowing up in rage. He’s not going to do that, especially not when the girl sitting beside him is obviously infatuated with Izuku.

“Well, at least, they’ll be allocated it together next semester. They won’t have to be alone,” the other girl responds.

“Man, if Midoriya or Shouto were here, I’d be able to copy off all their work!” Denki yells out in annoyance, stretching his arms out.

“Well, that’s too bad. You’re going to have to work for some things sometimes,” headphone girl coughs out.

Denki frowns. “But I already have to work so hard for you, Kyouka.”

Katsuki had thought up possible names for Ochako’s friends but Kyouka is the last thing he’d have expected headphone girl to be called. She looks far too tough and strong-headed to be a Kyouka.

“Ochako must be so bummed out,” Mina says with a sigh, resting her hands on her face. “I’m sure you were dying to take this class with Midoriya.”

“What?” she squeaks, turning red again. She turns red far too easily, but this time, at the mention of Izuku’s name, she’s redder than Katsuki had seen her before, more so than she had been when she was naked before him last night. He scoffs to himself. Just what’s so great about Izuku that he has this girl all obsessed with him?

“Girls listen, especially you, Yaomomo,” Mina says, her voice cheeky and playful. “It was so hard to get her to dance last night. She was so obsessed with watching him until I told her that she should dance with someone else to make him jealous. Then there was this super hot blonde guy and I pushed her to him and. Wait.” Mina stops suddenly, jumping to her feet and frowning as she turns to Katsuki. Her eyes go wide and her hand shoots out, pointing right at him. “It’s you!”

“What?” Katsuki has a vague idea of what’s going on but her reaction catches him by surprise still.

“The super hot blonde in the club from yesterday! It’s you!” Mina exclaims.

“Is that what you mean by you know him? Did something happen?” the princess-like girl asks, frowning. Again, she seems to be the first to be wary of him. He wonders just what this girl’s deal with him is.

“Oh, Momo, it’s fine!” Ochako says quickly. It seems Momo is the name of said princess, which would make the green girl’s name Tsuyu. It took him a while but Katsuki pats himself on the shoulder for finding their names out without asking for a single one of them.

“So both of you danced together last night?” Tsuyu says. “Is that why we couldn’t find you?”

“I couldn’t find any of you either so Bakugou drove me home,” Ochako explains.

“That’s it? You just drove her home? Dude,” Denki scoffs.

He got laid even before driving her home but Katsuki’s not sure how much Ochako would appreciate being ousted to her friends so he holds his tongue, turning back to his noodles. Denki’s words don’t bother him that much. His pride isn’t that fragile.

“She’s still into Midoriya. There’s no way she’s going to do anything with someone else,” Kyouka argues back.

That’s where they’re wrong and only Katsuki knows about it. He’d puff his chest out if he could, but that would get him nowhere. He continues eating.

“Oh, well, I guess you have a point—”

“Didn’t you two kiss?” Mina cuts in. She looks down at them with a victorious grin, her eyebrows slightly furrowed. “I saw you. You guys made out in the middle of the dance floor.”

From the corner of his eyes, Katsuki can see Ochako turning red again. “T-that. That. That is!!” Ochako tries to explain, but she’s getting far too flustered to speak. Last night must have been a big first for her and she’s being interrogated only a short while after. He doesn’t blame her for not knowing what to say, especially if she’s not ready to be completely honest with her friends.

“She wanted to make the bartender jealous and there was no better way to do that than a kiss in front of him,” Katsuki says.

Ochako flashes him a quick look but he could see the gratefulness in it. Her friends seem to have bought it, but most of them are still frowning.

“Did it… work?” Mina asks slowly. Katsuki could tell from the expressions of the rest that they had other questions in mind and he wonders if they’re keeping silent due to his presence there.

This time, Ochako doesn’t blush. Instead, she flashes a wry smile, pulling out her phone. “It did.”

Katsuki cranes his neck to see what she has on the screen. It looks like a couple of messages, but his angle is so bad that he can’t make out the exact words on the screen. Her friends are crowding around it. From the way Mina’s eyes glisten, Katsuki can tell that the plan must be working. The texts had to be from Izuku.

Fucking Deku.

“He sounds so worried,” Momo comments flatly.

“Aren’t you going to reply to him or something?” Mina asks.

The redness is back on her cheeks. She taps her nails against her phone as she shakes her head. “I thought maybe waiting for a little bit might help.”

“Playing hard to get, huh?” Denki sighs.

“Might work,” Kyouka adds.

“I don’t know,” Momo murmurs. Her eyes cloud and it’s obvious as hell that something about the texts is troubling her. “I don’t think Midoriya is jealous. He sounds worried— very worried.”

“He’s worried that she’s going to be stolen away,” Mina says with a huff. “Come on Yaomomo, give my plan a chance.”

“I’m with Momo on this,” Tsuyu adds. “He sounds more worried that something might have happened to you after dancing with a random stranger. It is dangerous, you know. He could have hurt you.”

“I wasn’t going to do anything to her!” Katsuki snaps, ironically given that he did actually do more than just something with her. But he hadn’t had any bad intentions; everything had been consensual.

“But Midoriya wouldn’t know that. He just saw what he saw— Ochako kissing a random guy who’s big enough to break her like a twig,” Tsuyu replies and Katsuki’s taken aback slightly at just how straightforward this girl can get. She doesn’t seem to fear him at all despite her descriptions of him.

“No offense, Bakugou,” Eijirou speaks up finally, a playful smile on his face. “You don’t exactly look like someone safe.”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean, fucker?” Katsuki yells, almost lunging at Eijirou.

“Yeah, exactly,” Momo sighs. “Ochako, you better text Midoriya to let him know you’re okay.”

Ochako sighs, her shoulders slumping. “Okay sure.” She fiddles with her phone for a little bit before she slides it back into her bag. “Well, that’s done!”

The group continues with its useless conversation from earlier on and Katsuki starts to drown out their voices again as he continues to eat. He can feel Eijirou looking at him occasionally but he makes no attempt to acknowledge it. Eijirou must be hoping to ask about Izuku but Katsuki would rather die than talk about him in front of his friends. He keeps to himself, merely focusing on his food until he feels a slight nudge against his leg.

It would be enough if Ochako had slightly tapped him with her knee. That would have gotten his attention. But she presses her leg against his, lightly rubbing them together. He can’t ignore that at all, but he also doesn’t know how to react, not when they’re with her friends and not when he knows she has her eyes for someone else.

“Bakugou,” she says, her voice low and soft till he’s sure that he’s the only one who’s able to hear it.

He turns to her and realises that she’s already looking at him. He tries to act nonchalant, to appear as if he’s thinking about her leg less than he actually is doing. “What is it?”

She grins and he knows that whatever she has in mind is going to be something that he’s bound to regret. He knows it’s going to be great, but it’s also going to be something he’ll eventually curse himself for accepting.

“Can we talk later?”

A/N: Again, as tumblr removed my line breaks thing, I had to substitute it with a random ~-~. It’s pretty ugly. You guys should read this on ao3 instead honestly.

Thank you for all your kind words and the support I got from chapter 1! I hope everyone continues to support this fic. It's taking awhile to get into the fake dating but I think we should be there by next chapter! Thank you everyone!!

By the way, I'm still in the process of debating whether I should go down a Todo/momo or Todo/deku route in this fic! It's likely that if it's Todo/deku, there might be some Momo/jirou as well (despite the supposed Kami/jirou in this chapter-- don't worry about that, I have plans). Do let me know your preference. This isn't a poll or anything and I may not necessarily go down with the majority, but I would love to know what you guys are thinking!

Once again, please please do reblog if you like this! It’ll really help me out. Feel free to leave comments in the tags/ reblogs/ replies or through asks!

#bnha #boku no hero academia #kacchako #uraraka ochako #bakugou katsuki #bnha fanfic #far writes stuff #my fic: in the silence

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