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mangoisms · 1 year ago

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circle k (back to you)

summary: in which you're just the graveyard shift employee at circle k bombarded by vigilantes.

━ chapter eight: where did i go wrong? | read chapter seven

━ pairing: tim drake x f!reader

━ word count: 3.7k

━ warnings: canon typical violence, blood, etc

━ masterlist

━ a/n: sorry for disappearing! essentially, i started grad school and it is So Much Work. but if you'd like some unnecessary rambles on tim and wally's relationship here and in light of their og meeting in robin (1993), you can also find my thoughts on that here <3

The next day, you don’t hear much from Steph.

She does text you a few times, mostly reassurances and that she’s working to pull something together. You don’t quite understand but she was so convincing the day before, you let it go.

You mostly spend the day—after sleeping in—learning your new phone, excited at having something new and so high-tech to play with. Flash texts you several times during the day. Blurry selfies and equally blurry pictures of Keystone and Central. Even a couple of the New York skyline, as he informs you he decided to drop in and visit a few friends.

You can’t send him much. The clouds that hang in the sky, waiting to pour down on unsuspecting Gothamites at a moment’s notice. The feral cat that hangs out in the alley by your apartments, who you get close enough to to catch mid-hiss. The person on the subway carrying what you suspect to be a possum in their bag but Flash insists is actually an opossum. Whatever the difference is.

There is a difference!

idk sounds made up

You’re from the city. Of course you think that.

ok WOW

you’re blaming my dead parents for where they settled????

Yes.

wow

You go into work in relatively high spirits, considering everything.

Black Bat stops by for some gummy worms and a can of Red Bull and you tease her a bit for it.

“Signal’s influence?”

“Better than coffee.”

“Fair enough.”

Red hasn’t been by, you think, watching her go. Not yesterday and not today, though it’s early. He usually stops by nearly every night, if not for a couple minutes. But nothing specifically decrees that he comes by… You’re just used to it, you suppose, and last night’s absence was noticeable.

There’s still time, though. Maybe you’ll see him later tonight.

Overhead, the AC turns on. They fixed it, along with that electrical issue Red Robin caused last week. It works a little too well, though. These last few days have had you uncomfortably cold, so today, you come armed with a hoodie—Tim’s hoodie, the only piece of clothing you’ve ever managed to steal from him. A bit baggy on him and even more so on you, it’s a pleasant shade of azure blue. One of your more precious possessions since it’s, like you said, the only thing you really have from him. Also a bit of an indulgence right now but… you’re past the point of caring.

Maritza pops by a little while later, waving at you.

“Hey, Mari. Here for a Slurpee?”

“That, and I was wondering if you guys have any pain cream… Abuela’s back is hurting her and we ran out yesterday,” she says, lips pursed, glancing at the aisles.

“Pain cream,” you repeat thoughtfully, stepping around the counter. “We should. Let’s see.”

She follows you to one of the center aisles.

“How’s summer break been so far?” you ask, running your eyes over displays of toothpaste, disposable toothbrushes, and other basic items.

“Boring,” she sighs. “It’s too hot to do anything.”

You chuckle, tucking your hands in the pocket of Tim’s hoodie; your fingers are cold. They always seem to be. “Books are excellent ways to preoccupy the time.”

“Think I’ve read every book at the library,” she grumbles, which probably isn’t that much of an exaggeration. Gotham’s public library system is drastically lacking; it was only in May did Wayne Enterprises announce that they were investing more money into it. By now, they probably haven’t reached the library here in the Upper West Side.

“You should check out GU’s then. Kids get free library cards and our selection is fairly expansive. I’m sure you could get away with checking out some things for your abuela, too. At least until they fix everything in the one here.”

“Huh. Maybe.” She moves ahead of you, scanning the rest of the aisle. “Oh, hey, you guys do have some.”

She reaches for a box.

The door opens. You turn.

The wink of the kitchen knife is the first thing you see, then the trembling hand, and then the owner to whom it belongs, too. A scrawny man wearing a grey hoodie, the same hood pulled over his head.

It’s not great at hiding his face, you think dimly, every muscle inside you locking into place. Mari freezes behind you, breath audibly catching in a gasp as he turns the knife sharply on you.

For a second, the three of you just look at each other.

You break the silence first.

“All the money is in the register. Take it.”

A lengthy pause, one that amplifies the dread petrifying your insides. Your new phone, with Flash’s contact info, sits in the pocket of your hoodie, weighing it down; your fingers are laced together, cold, hovering right above it and you recall the rundown you’d been given by Flash last night, the… other not-quite-normal aspects of your new phone.

“Okay, so, on top of the League encryption stuff, there is something else.”

“Are you tracking me?”

“Not… exactly.”

“That’s reassuring.”

“Your location is logged with the League,” he admits. “But it’s secure. You’re registered with me, so only I can look at it. My wife’s phone is like yours. Her information is there, too. A lot of us do it with our families. Not just to keep sensitive information secure, but there’s… a risk that comes with being with us.”

You frown at him. “Does she know?”

He looks horrified. “Of course she does. I don’t go around just tracking her without her knowledge. That’s weird. And messed up. I don’t even actively do it. Not unless she’s been kidnapped or she wants me to. That’s what I’m trying to say. Your location is being tracked but I’m not peeking in on it. No one is, unless a need comes up. An emergency kind of need. And that brings me to my next thing.”

He pauses, looking at you, calculating, but you just nod for him to continue.

“You have my number,” he says. “So, you can call me. For emergencies or if you just want to talk about your day. But in the case that you can’t call me, if you’re in some kind of danger…” He plucks the phone out of your grasp, turning it over in his hands, pointing to the power button on the side. “Press this three times and it’ll send an SOS signal to me, along with your location. I’ll come. Okay?”

“Are you… sure?”

He seems affronted. “I don’t just do this for anyone. I thought you’d have seen that by now. You’re…” he stops, frowning deeply. “You mean a lot to me, kid. If I can save you, if I have the opportunity to keep you safe, I’ll take it. I wouldn’t ever ask you to leave Gotham because it’s your home and I know the Bats hang around but… this just makes me feel better. You have a direct line to me. Use it.”

“Batman probably won’t like that.”

“Batman can suck it,” he says petulantly. “Especially after what he did to you last week. I take care of my own. No matter where they are. Got it?”

You got it.

The thought still astounds you even now, that Flash cares that much about you and how ironic it is that you don’t even know who he is under the cowl but maybe you don’t need to. This is still him, isn’t it?

And you would heed his words. Of course you would. You have no interest in dying. You have no hangups about being saved. Flash didn’t think you incompetent, it was just a precaution, a necessity for living in the world you do.

That is true now more than ever.

Especially with how aware you are of Mari behind you, too.

“Take your hands outta your pockets,” he says.

Your pulse pounds in your ears.

“Just take the money, man.”

You have to be careful but quick. If you could just unlace your fingers and reach for your phone…

Of course, you have no idea how quickly the signal will reach Flash or how fast he’ll even be able to get here…

You guess you’ll just have to trust him. Trust him and his capabilities.

A step forward. A bead of sweat rolls down your back. You can hear Mari behind you, her breath quick and uneven. You’re most worried about her, to be honest. If you go down, what’s going to happen to her? You dread to think about it.

“Take your hands out of your fuckin’ pocket,” he hisses; despite the severity of his voice, his hand is trembling. You don’t get why he won’t just grab the money and go.

He must think you can call the police or something but even then, it’s not as if the GCPD are reliable. As if they can do anything.

As for you, there is nothing else you can do. You need to call him.

“Mari, run!”

Your hand grapples for your phone at the same time.

You hear the snick of sneakers on the tiled floors, your fingers slip over the sides of the new case currently hugging your phone, and he surges forward and then—

Just a mere spark, one that jolts you as you realize what happened. It’s small at first, then bigger, then massive, a forest fire eating you alive from the inside out, burning white-hot.

You can’t do anything.

You stare at the man in front of you, closer now, close enough to dig his knife right into the soft flesh of your belly. His eyes are wide, too. Like he can’t believe he just did that. Neither can you.

But the worst of it comes when he pulls the knife out.

The sound that escapes you is foreign to your ears. Your knees give out. One hand presses to the source of your pain, the other lands hard on the tiled floor; your wrist smarts, your arm trembling as you hold yourself up.

You’re barely aware of anything other than the pain. Throbbing heat, warmth rapidly spreading through the front of your shirt and hoodie. Your vision blurs, from tears and from the pain, your heart pounds so hard, you feel it in your teeth, hear it in your ears above the rush of your blood.

You manage a glance behind you, relieved to see Mari is gone and hopefully back in the safety of the apartment building next door. Ahead of you, the man is scrambling to get the cash register open, cursing like a sailor and eventually yanking it off the counter and smashing it on the ground, ducking out of your view.

God, you need to call Flash. Not 911, they won’t get here in time, no way, you need him. Before the man decides to cut his losses and kill you. You hope he’ll just take the money and run, but you’ve seen his face, surely he knows that puts him in that much more danger of being arrested—

The door opens. You hear your name from a familiar voice and then someone steps into view.

Tim’s eyes are wide as he looks at you, horrified, but behind him, your attacker shoots up from the ground and you choke out a warning, an urging to run, to get out of here, you don’t know what you’d do if anything happened to him, no, no, you can’t lose him like that.

He whips around just as the man swings himself over the counter, letting out something of a war cry, cash held in one hand and the knife in the other. It gleams red under the light. He lunges.

“Tim!”

But his fatal injury does not happen. Instead, you watch him duck out of the way, moving faster, more gracefully than you’ve ever seen, like he’s done this before and the man doesn’t expect it, stumbling with his own momentum. Not stopping, either, Tim grabs the man’s wrist, heaving him over his shoulder until he slams into the ground hard. It’s brutal. It’s violent. It’s nothing you’ve ever seen from Tim, your Tim who… who hates needles and always bemoans going to get the yearly flu shot with you and Steph, your Tim who can get impatient, snippy, but not violent.

You don’t understand. With the haze of pain, that fact feels oddly upsetting.

The door opens again. He whips around, geared up for another fight, but it’s just Spoiler, it’s—

Golden hair, familiar blue eyes. A face you know by heart. Even with the bottom of her face hidden.

They’re both at your side in an instant. In good timing, too, because your arm gives out but before you can crash to the ground, Tim catches you, turning you over in his arms and gently laying you back onto the tile.

“You’re okay,” he says quickly, eyes scanning you frantically. “You’re okay.”

All the movement tugs at your belly, flames flaring for a brief moment, making you dizzy with pain, choking out your voice, leaving you to blink the tears out of your eyes and look up at your friends.

You don’t like the look on their faces. Horrified. Full of dread. It hurts you.

“Fuck,” Stephanie Brown, also known as Spoiler, says, digging through pouches in her utility belt. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. Oracle, where is the nearest hospital?”

“I know where it is,” Tim says, snapping into action, his hands reaching for the hoodie. “Off Murphy Ave.”

Rrrrrrip.

He tears through the front part of your hoodie—his hoodie—like it’s nothing. Both their faces drop as they see your shirt underneath it but you’re more focused on the first part of what just happened.

“Did you—have to tear it?” you whine. “This is the only hoodie I have from you…”

“You can have all of my hoodies,” he promises, reaching for the hem of your shirt.

Another ripping sound.

Steph reaches underneath you. “Didn’t go through.”

Tim nods. “The sooner we get her to the hospital, the better. I don’t like how much blood she’s losing.”

“I can hear you, you know,” you mutter, more petulant than you want but considering you are bleeding from a stab wound, you think you get to be.

They both let out strained chuckles. Tim reaches for one of the pouches of Steph’s belt. You wonder how he knows which one to open. You wonder a lot of things. Where he learned to kick ass. Whether he has always known Steph is Spoiler. How he is so calm right now. It tickles at you, like you have all the pieces to the puzzle but the full picture still isn’t coming out.

And oh, yeah, the burning throb of the stab wound is really sapping your concentration, too. Cold creeps in at the edges, your fingers feeling icy as you clench them. You shiver violently, though it hurts to move like that.

“You’re gonna be fine,” Steph says soothingly, squeezing your hand. “We just really need to get you to a hospital to guarantee that.”

“You should—fuck!” The gauze Tim presses to the wound sends shockwaves of pain through you. Black spots appearing in your vision, breath squeezing in your throat.

He says your name loudly. “Breathe.”

“Fuck you,” you wheeze out, trying and failing to curl away from the pressure he is currently applying to your wound. “That—hurts—”

“I know,” he says, pained. “But I have to. We have to. I’m sorry.”

“He’s right,” Steph says, brushing some of your hair away from your face. “Come on, talk to me. Ignore what he’s doing. What were you going to say before?”

“My phone,” you mumble, shivering. “Flash gave it to me. S-Said if I press the power button three times, it sends a distress signal to him.”

“That’s kind of him,” Tim mutters, sounding, dare you say it, jealous, which, in your haze of pain, just pisses you off.

“You absolute asshole, you don’t get to—”

“Stop it!” Steph snaps, lunging for your phone. “Tim, focus on saving her life and not on being an ass right now, okay? I’m calling him. We need that kind of speed. She’s losing too much blood and the hospital is too far.”

He sobers significantly. A bloodied hand reaches for yours. You’re only aware of it because you see it, the sight of his pale skin covered in your blood, his fingers wrapping around yours. He squeezes.

“Can you feel that?”

“K-Kind of.”

“Do it, Spoiler.”

“I’m doing it, Timothy.”

She is. She holds your phone in gloved hands, pressing the button three times, then scoots away from your head, lifting your feet over her lap.

Tim continues his work, the pressure he continues to apply to the wound making your head spin. Exhaustion creeps in at the edges, making your eyelids drag with each blink.

No, no, falling asleep is bad. You’ve seen enough movies and TV shows of injured characters to know that. You have to stay awake.

Steph watches you, concerned. “How long—”

She doesn’t get to finish her sentence as a sharp gust of wind hits all of you. It knocks things off the shelves and then, all of you are blinking up at the Flash, blue lightning fading away.

He breathes your name and in the next blink, he’s next to you, on his knees.

“Hey, Flash,” you croak.

“Hey, kiddo,” he says softly, a gloved hand resting tenderly on your forehead. He looks at Tim and Steph. “Hospital?”

“It’s—”

Tim cuts Steph off, staring hard at Flash. “She’ll most likely need a blood transfusion. Her blood type is AB positive—”

“And she’s allergic to penicillin,” Steph tacks on quickly.

“Got it.” He sweeps you into his arms and you whimper at the movement. “And the hospital?”

“Intersection of Murphy Avenue and Elliot Circle,” Steph tells him.

“Be careful,” Tim stresses.

Flash gives him a frosty look. “I got it. You’ve done enough.”

Stop fighting, you want to say, but Flash is delightfully warm and you’re so tired. If you rest your eyes for just a little bit, that’s fine, right?

“Flash—!”

A sharp tug in your belly, gravity pulling on you, and darkness falls over you like a blanket. You surrender without fight.

Voices puncture the veil of darkness. Soft murmurs, soothing tones.

“She’ll be okay, Red,” a woman murmurs. “You got her here on time.”

“I know, Lin,” someone else says and wait, you know that voice. It’s Flash. He sounds so… harrowed. “But I just… I don’t know.”

“You know what the doctors said. The danger is gone. And with you here… maybe…” she trails off, tone implying something you aren’t privy to.

A deep breath. “Do you think so? I could’ve, earlier, but I didn’t know if it would hurt her and I didn’t want to take the chance…”

“Well… I think you’re a big softy and she means a lot more to you than you ever realized. So… maybe.”

“Maybe,” he echoes back and you want to know, want to ask what exactly it is he and this mystery woman are talking about but you slip back under again.

The next time you resurface, it’s to cutting words and a tension so thick, you feel it, too, even with all your senses muddled, knee-deep in a haze.

“I don’t mind her,” Flash says coldly. “But you, too?”

“She’s my friend. I have a right to see her, too,” someone else says—Tim, you realize. It’s Tim, his tone cutting, temper on the rise.

“The way you’ve treated her these past two months doesn’t say much about friendship to me.”

“I was going to tell her—”

“Oh, you were going to tell her? Only after you finally fucked it all up being caught hanging out with your friends when you explicitly said you were too busy to hang out with her? Yeah, that’s real great.”

“You haven’t told her,” Tim points out petulantly.

“Really mature,” Flash scoffs. “I have a good reason to keep it from her. What’s yours? It’s not like you were deprived of her attention. You’re friends. Why the hell would you favor Red Robin over Tim Drake?”

“I wouldn’t expect you to understand—”

“No, I bet you don’t, because it’s easier to excuse yourself that way, isn’t it?” he seethes. “You’re just like him, you know. Just like him.”

You don’t know who they’re talking about. Or maybe you do and it’s just not coming to you. But the comparison isn’t a kind one. The way Tim snaps back in the next second affirms that.

“She wasn’t talking to me! I was—worried!”

“So, you should’ve talked to her! Instead of going behind her back and befriending her as Red Robin! What the hell did you achieve by doing that?”

“We were going to tell her, too, you know,” the woman from before says, her tone disapproving. “Very soon, in fact. But his situation is different from yours and you know that.”

Silence stretches on.

“Well, I still want to see her,” Tim says quietly, the fight leaving his voice.

“How—” Steph. Her voice cuts out, thick in a way that is unfamiliar to you. She clears her throat. “How is she?”

“Stable,” the mystery woman informs her.

“Why hasn’t she woken up?” Tim asks. You can just hear the frown in his voice and the vision of him forms easily in your mind, that familiar wrinkle between his brows, pretty pink lips pursed.

“Anesthesia still needs to wear off,” the woman says. “She’ll wake up soon.”

“But until then,” Flash cuts in, tone still severe. “Feel free to make yourself scarce. Stephanie can hang around. But you? No way in hell.”

“You think she wants that?” Tim shoots back, anger returning. “You don’t know anything. You have no idea. You’re assuming—”

“Yeah, I am. She’s not awake. She can’t tell us. Until then, I—we—can make those decisions.”

“Oh, that’s great. I’m sure she’ll love that—”

“I know what you’re thinking and we’re doing this with good intentions. You can’t say the same, can you?”

That doesn’t help. Fans the flames, if anything, as they keep arguing.

Ugh. You don’t want to hear this.

Like mercy, you slip under again.

reblogs are appreciated!

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#tim drake x reader #red robin x reader #dc comics imagine #dc comics x reader #tim drake imagine #red robin imagine #tim drake x y/n #tim drake x you #red robin x y/n #red robin x you #batfam x reader #batfam x you #batfam x y/n

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platoapproved · 2 months ago

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I read ur lesmand porn with plot and its lovely!! So lovely, the most in character thing i could ever hope for and also painful and hot and amazing :) However! I did not read the book and did magnus really…? Like i had NO idea that rape was a part of lestat’s turning bc its just not talked abt ig? Anyway im shocked and horrified. But you wrote about it beautifully, so that was fun

FIRST OF ALL, thank you so so so much anon, I'm very glad you enjoyed the fic! 😭 It makes me so happy knowing that people are getting something out of it 💚.

I'm going to answer your question under a read-more. It got pretty long... also, is this not a thing people are talking about? I have no idea, I'm just in my little fandom corner. But if anyone hasn't read the books and wants to know more - I'll get into it. Content warning for discussion of sexual assault and some upsetting book passages:

SO. It's surprisingly tricky to answer this but I'm going to do my best. Bear in mind I've only read like half of the books...

The surface-level simplest answer is no. In The Vampire Lestat, Magnus does not rape Lestat. In the books, vampires do not become aroused or have sex - like as a rule, biologically, they just can't. (Now, there is nuance here as well, because vampires DO still have sex in the books, it just involves them performing sex acts on humans with their mouths/hands/etc). This is a big change they've made in the show.

That being said, turning someone into a vampire non-consensually IS compared to rape throughout the series. Like not just in the case of Magnus and Lestat but elsewhere, too. Here are a couple examples of this from Prince Lestat (which I HAVEN'T EVEN READ YET I just looked these up because I knew Lestat's turning was discussed) talking about Lestat's turning:

Important to remember also that Prince Lestat was published in 2014 whereas The Vampire Lestat came out in 1985. It's nearly a 30 year gap; the first few books in the series are way way way less explicit and direct especially when it comes to sex.

So, there is that aspect of things. But most of all the language used in the passage around Lestat's turning is just... I obviously cannot speak for most readers but of the people I've spoken to and seen discussing it, it's fairly obvious the whole thing is written as a metaphor for rape. Like I feel like this is not an uncommon reading at all. Hey any other book readers who made it this far back me up on this.

A few passages in support of this. These are going to be wildly out of order but since I did a kind of re-telling of this scene in my fic, this is Lestat talking to Nicki about his turning:

Can't resist including a classic 'Nicki what the FUCK' moment.

As for the scenes with Magnus themselves! A lot of the stuff in my fic is just... straight up dialogue or actions of Magnus' lifted right out of the book.

I feel like that's enough to give you a sense of the general tone of the scene. There's other aspects that are imho meant to evoke sexual assault: Magnus puts Lestat on a bed and climbs on top of him to turn him, Lestat tries to fight him off, he tries (and fails) to resist the physical pleasure reaction humans feel when vampires drink from them, etc. I'd include more quotes but honestly at some point I'd just be copy-pasting the whole thing.

So... my answer is yes and no. I have no idea how they are going to handle all this in the show. Like it's a really pivotal moment for The Vampire Lestat and for Lestat as a character. I will honestly be shocked if in the show they don't change the metaphorical rape into a non-metaphorical one. Certainly it seems to me that the way Sam Reid has handled the acting any time Magnus comes up (Claudia asking questions, Armand mentioning him while Lestat is on stage, the tower scene in the season 2 finale, etc.) to me reads like they're going to take it that way.

Anyway wow fuck this is so many words sorry. I'm sure there are other people who have been book fans longer than me who could speak much more eloquently on this but I've done my best to answer. 😔

#asks #my fic #interview with the vampire #i have like tvc fan imposter syndrome.... other people know more... and are more articulate...#it is very late for me i hope this is coherent at all #sa cw #assault cw #rape cw #please if there's something i missed or misrepresented chime in

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lfghughes · 2 years ago

Text

Can’t Control My Mind

a/n: I’m letting you all know right now this is going to have a few parts to it so if you do like it don’t fret it won’t end here.

Matthew had always been a pain in your butt and that part that had sucked the most about that growing up was the stupid little crush you had on him for years but he had always treated you like a little sister. You were sure it could have been worse. You and Brady had been best friends for as long as you could remember and you had gone through every major life change with him. You had also played wingman for him and introduced Emma to him who was now his fiancé.

Even though you had gone off to college and both brothers had gone on with their careers you still got to see Brady and Emma pretty often and remained close to them. Matthew on the other hand it was pretty rare that you were around him. Except for this upcoming week where you all would be together because of the wedding. Not only were you both going to be there but you both played pretty important roles in the wedding party.

You didn’t have much time to mentally prepare for the trip and at least your childhood crush on him has gone but still you knew Matthew and you knew his arrogance would probably get on your nerve. Or maybe this was you assuming, again you didn’t get to see him often but from what you saw in the media he was pretty arrogant especially after the season he had. You would be flying out with Brady, Emma, Matthew, and their parents.

Sitting in your seat you tried your best to not groan at the fact that Matthew would be sitting next to you the whole trip. It was just a few hours. A few long hours. But you had really hoped to be next to Emma. “Guess we’ll be stuck together for a little while.” Matthew grinned.

Matthew P.O.V

It had been way too long since Matthew had last seen his brothers best friend. Of course he saw the social media posts and every once in a while when he would get the chance to go back home would see her here and there but since she had grown up and gone to college he hadn’t the chance to really talk to her and wow was she attractive. No more awkward teenage phase that was for sure.

“I can’t believe you didn’t come out to any of my games with Brady, kind of rude of you.” He definitely meant it in a teasing way although maybe he wasn’t all joking about wanting her there. “Eh, my favorite brother wasn’t playing.” She shrugged and Matthew couldn’t keep the amused look off his face. This would definitely be a fun plane ride and he had no intentions of staying quiet and watching a movie. Although from the looks of it she was planning on reading a book.

“You’re not going to even try to entertain me?” Maybe he could be a little insufferable and the sigh that left her lips confirmed that but she did close the book so it clearly worked. “You know teenage you would always find a reason to talk to me.” Which was very much the truth but with being the older brother the last thing he wanted to do was hang out with his younger siblings and their friends. “Yeah, back when I had a massive crush but not anymore.”

An amused laugh left his lips. “Please, you’re telling me if I tried to kiss you right now you wouldn’t be down?” Immediately she shook her head no but there was a slight tinge of pink on her cheeks. “Absolutely not.” But the words came out a little unsure. Or maybe she did mean it but he would definitely be testing out the water this week. At that exact moment Brady chose to come over. “You’re not being annoying are you?”

“Oh no, I’m just asking your best friend over here if she still has a huge crush on me.” Brady scrunched his nose like that was the grossest thing he had heard which in his eyes he had never understood any girl who had a crush on his brother but much less his best friend having one.

Readers P.O.V

You definitely had your hands full this week. With the way Matthew had been teasing you too so far was just a sneak peek of the week to come you were sure. Plus you had a very good feeling that before the week was done if this teasing kept on you would probably end up kissing him at some point but you would not give Matthew the satisfaction of knowing that okay maybe even after all this time he was still significantly more attractive than most boys you had met. “I’m going to take a nap just so I don’t have to deal with you.” You told him, a grin on your lips. “Oh feel free to use me as your pillow, I’ve heard I’m quite comfortable.”

#matthew tkachuk #matthew tkachuk imagine #matthew tkachuk x reader #matthew tkachuk blurb #( cant control my mind ft matthew tkachuk )

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i-used-to-wear-the-fedora · 6 months ago

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IWTV, The Follow Up Interview

Hell. Daniel Molloy was almost 100% sure that this was his personal hell. Of course, it was his luck that he would just barely escape the two narcissistic eternal queens known as Armand and Louis just to be kidnapped by who was largely the subject of the entire interview he'd been conducting. The vampire, Lestat. It was convoluted, really. What were the odds of the Uber driver he ordered being the fucking vampire that Louis couldn't stop talking about? ...well, actually, considering everything he heard and remembered in the past few days, he supposed he shouldn't have been too surprised.

Looking down at the chair he was tied to, Daniel pulled at the ropes that bound his arms to those of the chair. Pulling did nothing to help. Not surprising. Maybe he would've been able to wriggle out of his bonds if it didn't hurt to move his wrists. The chair was sturdy. Some fancy plush dining chair stationed in the middle of what looked like some kind of study. Shelves full of books surrounded the room, each covered in a thick layer of dust. From what he'd heard of the man so far, Lestat seemed more like the type of man to show off the rare books he collected rather than actually read the things. Posters for Broadway shows were immaculately framed on the walls. Aida, Billy Elliot, The Lion King. Lestat was an Elton John fan, apparently. Daniel did his best not to roll his eyes.

Instead, he was focused on the large desk in the center of the room he'd been pushed up against. It was completely empty, save the tape recorder set in the middle of it. A blank tape was already inserted. Ready to record. Daniel had a sinking feeling he knew where this was going.

"Hey!" Daniel called out as he attempted to crane his head to look behind him. "Frenchie, I know you can probably fucking hear me and I want you to know that I'm not interested." Trying to move his legs revealed they were tied to the chair as well. "I've already had to listen to your boyfriends make asses of each other and you for long enough. The last thing I want is to deal with more of your weird love triangle bullshit."

"You make it sound like you have a choice." A hand on the chair followed the voice, and Daniel yelped from surprise.

"Jesus fucking Christ!" Daniel cried as he watched a man circle around him. He was tall. Maybe mid thirties with long blonde hair. He wore skin-tight leather pants with an even tighter see-through shirt. Combined with the air of arrogance the man carried along with his smug grin, it didn't take a genius to figure out the man was Lestat. Just as dramatic as foretold.

"So you must be Daniel." Lestat's smile reminded Daniel of the costumed actors that tried to stop you for pictures in Times Square. Fake and just slightly intimidating, ready to shank you if you didn't pay for the pictures you were forced to take together. "Wow. I've learned so much about you." The blonde hoisted himself into the desk in front of Daniel, eyes staring down at him like a predator eyeing its dinner.

"I could say the same about you." Daniel shifted, wondering how Lestat knew about him. An issue he could worry about later.

"Oh, I'm sure Louis and Armand have told you all about me." Yeah, he was practically all they talked about. "And. You see, they have their side of the story, but it just didn't seem fair that you only got to interview them." Lestat leaned forward and perched his chin in his hands. "So I've decided that you will have the honor of capturing my story in my own words."

"And what if I don't cooperate?" Daniel asked with a raised eyebrow. In response, the younger (technically older, much older) man reached into his pocket. Daniel noticed the bulge, and for a moment, he wondered if he'd be the next in what was likely a long line of men to see Lestat's cock. Instead, he pulled out a pill bottle.

"Your Sinemet. Helps with the pain, right?" Lestat asked as he noticed the discomfort in Daniel's small movements. "You know it's a real shame that I didn't get to meet you back then, too. I wonder if you were beautiful. Before the age and sickness set in."

"Louis seemed to think so." Daniel's verbal jab made Lestat pause. Just for a moment, but it was long enough to notice as the vampire set the pill bottle aside with a sigh.

"I suppose I deserved that." Lestat reached over and grabbed a letter opener that Daniel hadn't seen before. He brought it to Daniel's wrists, and the man flinched away, expecting pain. Instead, his wrists were cut free. Daniel watched as Lestat got up and grabbed a laptop (his laptop) off of a nearby end table and handed it to the reporter. Walking back to the desk, Lestat leaned over and pressed play on the waiting tape recorder. "Just, humor me."

"Well, considering I don't exactly have a choice here." Daniel rubbed his rope burned wrists. "I guess we should start from the beginning."

#interview with the vampire #interview with the vampire 2022 #iwtv #iwtv amc #iwtv spoilers #lestat de lioncourt #daniel molloy #fanfiction #just saying #lestat absolutely would do this to daniel #lestat is wearing his queen of the damned outfit

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https-cyber-slxt · 2 years ago

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Holy shit! Your blog is an oasis in a desert istg. Finally some proper unadulterated femdom content on this hellsite. Thank you so much!

If your requests are still open, can I please get some sub!Dante content? General headcanons or just a little pegging for my bbg :) Up to you. And thanks again <3

P. S.: A word of advice: try to avoid more explicit tags, like sub!character or dom!reader, and use something more general like character x reader. I've noticed that Tumblr algorithm doesn't take into account actual contents of the post and shadow bans based on tags. I've seen some really outrageous stuff fly under the radar, because it only had fandom tags and nothing specific. Hope this'll help at least a little bit. You don't deserve to deal with this bs. Wish you the best!

hiiiii anon, I really appreciate these kind words, here just for you.

Oh and I'll absolutely give you your “daily” dose of pegging Dante :P

Devils Do Cry!

Sub!Dante x FemDom!Reader

A/N: I am so unmotivated (also it's 10 pm and I'm tired as shit, so if this is bad, I'm sorry)

“So... Who's Elizabeth?” you question out of nowhere as you pull your sword out of the Hell Caina's chest, causing it to wither away. Dante becomes stunned at the question, raising a brow at you. “Just another Devil Hunter, why?”

He swallows thickly at your serious expression. You prop your glasses up and wipe the blood off of your weapon. “A little birdie told me that you went on a *date* with her last night” Dante whimpers and furrows his brows before propping himself up properly. “Oh yeah? Well maybe that little birdie was trying to make you jealous” your face becomes even more serious. “Why would Nero wish to make me jealous?”

Dante stops in his tracks and nearly bursts into a sprint, damn you little nephew! “I uh- uhm-” his sentence cuts off as you grab his collar and shove him against a wall. “Don't lie to me Dante! What were you doing last night!?” He sobs as he licks his dry lips. “I'm sorry (Name), but I promise I didn't do anything, I just- walked her back home, that's all, and Nero must've thought something else“

You drop Dante and turn away, walking back to his office space with him not far behind you.

☆~ 5:30 PM ~☆

You lie on your stomach as you flip through the pages of the magazine, munching on the cheese pizza while doing so. Your fingers rest at the bottom of the page while your eyes fixate on the pictures, making you unaware of your surroundings. Your reading becomes interrupted as the doors slam shut, making you look up at Dante. “Jeez those two are a pain in the ass” he sighs while stretching.

“If they're so annoying, why are you friends with them?” you ask while flipping to the next page, placing your hand under your chin. “Well you know, it's nice to have some company in this shithole” He answers while walking up the stairs. You scoff and lift yourself off the couch. “Hey! Which drawer do the magazines go into?” you shout while fiddling with the book in your hands. “My desk drawer!” oh wow real helpful.

You roll your eyes and walk behind the desk, opening up the top drawer, nope, the middle one, nu-uh, the bottom one perhaps? Your hand grabs the handle and just as you're done opening it halfway, you slam it closed and grip the magazine in your hands even tighter.

A few moments later Dante rushes down the stairs, oblivious to your shocked expression. “Hey babe so, Morrison will be here in a few and- are you okay-” his sentence cut off as he stares at your grip on the bottom drawer handle.

You both stand there in complete silence, until you stand up and purse your lips, dropping the magazine on to his desk. “So how long have you had those?” you ask while side eyeing him. Dante stands there in complete shock. He lifts his hands up and defence, trying to think of an excuse. “How. Long. Have. You. Had. Those?” Now your entire body was facing him. “A-awhile it's that, I've been hesitant on asking you..”

NSFW Below The Cut X3

A bright blush covers his face as he answers your question. “Bend over the desk” you command while opening the drawer with your heels. “But Morrison-!” his sentence interrupted as he's pushed against the desk. “I don't care about Morrison, if walks in here that'll be his own problem. Now, bend over the desk, and take off your pants while you're at it”

A sob leaves Dante as he follows your command, taking off his pants and boxers while bending himself over his work desk, spreading his legs open and resting his chin on his forearms.

Meanwhile with you, you pull the strap-on out of the drawer, and you're not gonna lie when you say it's packing a decent size, 8-9 inches at least and relatively girthy as well. You notice the ring gag in the drawer and pull it out, it'll be of good use. You set the strap aside and lift the gag right in front of Dante's face. He gasps and looks back at you, you smile and giggle. “You know what to do” were the only words you said before he sighed. Shoving the gag into his mouth, you grab the straps and adjust it to your liking.

You reach back down and grab the lube out of the drawer. You grab Dante's hand and squeeze the lube on to his fingers. He looks back at you with confusion and you just smile at him. “I can't just shove this entire thing into you without any preparation, go on, open yourself for me” you continue smiling as he lets out a soft whimper.

Using his free hand, Dante spreads his ass open, allowing his fingers to slip in easier. He slowly inserts his middle finger in, soft gasps escaping him as he inserts another finger. He goes knuckles deep, making him arch his back, his free hand quivering and struggling to hold himself open.

His upper body basically falls limp as he starts to finger himself, getting lost in pleasure and completely forgetting about your presence. You grin and grab his wrist, giving him a fright in the process. You pull his fingers out and grab the strap-on from his side.

You tie the harness around your hips and grab the lube, carelessly squeezing some on to the strap, causing a little bit to fall on the floor beneath you. You stroke up and down, smearing the lube all over.

You slowly insert your strap into him, heavy moans escaping him as he grips the front of the desk. “Ah! nghhhh~!” drool slips down his chin as his eyes begin rolling back. You insert the entirety of the strap in him, the harness touching the skin of his ass.

You readjust yourself and lie on top of Dante's back, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. You short thrusts cause sobs to escape Dante as tears begin to fall from his eyes, leaking onto the desk below him. Your nimble fingers remove themselves from his neck and creep down towards his dick. Your free hand wraps around his leaking cock, pumping up and down gently.

Your other arm wraps around Dante into a chokehold, making his hands move from the desk to the arm around his neck. Letting go of his dick, you untie the gag move your hand back to its original position, pumping faster than before. “Shit! You're killing me! Just fuck me already! I need it, please!” Dante's tears roll down on to your arm along with his drool.

You unwrap your arm around his throat, causing him to drop on to the desk. You grab his arms and lock them behind his back, speeding up your pace in the progress. Dante cries and moans, not caring of someone or something hears him. “God fuuuck~! Yesyes! Oh you make me feel so- so good! Ah! Ah~! Nggggh!”

Your hand lets go of his arms, but like the loyal slut he his, he keeps them there as you grab his hair, lifting his head up and biting his neck. “Yes!! Oh fuck yes! Faster, faster! Fuckmefuckme!” Dante moves his hands to his dick as both your hands grip his hair and jacket collar. “I'm g-gonna cum! Pleaseplease! Let me cum! AH!” his begs and pleas turn into a nonsense of sobs as you rake your fingers through his messy and sweaty hair. “Cum for me” you whisper in his ear.

Dante sobs and cries as he releases all over the floor, some even getting on his desk. Quite sobs escape him as his left over tears form a small puddle beneath him.

Just as you lift yourself up, Morrison busts through the door, an unpleasant look on his face. “Considering that you two have stopped fucking like two rabbits in heat, just take this before my day is even more ruined” Morrison hands you a letter, not saying another word and slamming the building doors closed, his car revving up and leaving the area just as quickly.

You set the letter aside and stare at the fucked out Dante beneath you. “What to do with you...”

#fem reader #devil may cry #gaming #dmc5 #dante sparda #dante sparda x reader #dante x you #inbox #vi's answer ☆#anon

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crazykuroneko · 2 years ago

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Idt we're suddenly going to see a bunch of happy times in s3 when its from Lestat pov like there's a lot of plot from TVL to get through and vampire lore, and its not really great for forward momentum if they're rehashing the same time period. Plus its not like TVL gave us any huge insight or new scenes from their life together, it was just a few paragraphs of retconning.

If anything I think the show's pov is that louis is overcorrecting from his 70s interview by making thing seem happier than they were, thinking of the scene when Daniel plays back the tapes for him but what Daniel says doesn't feel consistent with the vibe I got on screen (it didn't really seem that happy in ep2 even). Everything the show and actors are saying feels like they just have a supernatural inexplicable bond that doesn't make sense i guess.

Not really, if TVL is broken to two seasons as well. Unless suddenly AMC got S3 greenlighted with 15-16 episodes per season, which I doubt very much. They can go with 7 - 8 episodes for two seasons, like IWTV era, or call them both as one season, but still released as two parts ala Better Call Saul S6A and 6B (total 13 ep). Anyway, I can't see TVL will be done as only one season if it'll only have 7 or 8 episodes. Not when they have to tackle the OG TVL plots, ongoing Louis with/without Armand-Daniel plot (depends how involved Louis is with Devil's Minion in the past) and segueing to the concert and QotD. So, amount of content wise, you can no longer compare it to the book.

Yes, Louis is "overcorrecting" his narrative from the '70s interview, but in what way, it's still not clear. To make Claudia the hero? to ease his pain? to make Lestat the big bad? Sometimes I think it's one thing, but then Louis did some things that are contradictory to it. I have my main guess ofc, but now I'll just wait for Season 2.

And as I said, Season 1 (IWTV Part I) is not whole; it's not supposed to stand on its own. The lack of "good times" in S1 makes the writing feels kind of lacking, in terms of convincing the audience the relationship between each character. Because that's what good writing should do. So, I don't think we'll have to wait until the TVL era. S2 aka IWTV Part II probably will give us some crumbs (which is possibly why Rolin said we'll still see a lot of Sam). It's similar to when we're reading the second half of IWTV and go "wow, Louis actually has deep feelings for Lestat to the point he's seeing things." The difference is the book deals with how deep the feelings are, while the show may deal with how deep the connection is. Because frankly, so far, it's Sam and Jacob's chemistry that does a heavy-lifting on that part.

(About S3 though, I don't think they'll retell the whole flashback in Lestat's POV, no. But I think they'll still talk about important points in the past. Especially if the interviewer is Daniel again or someone who knows/has heard what Louis has been saying in IWTV era. For me, Lestat knowing what Louis has said about him is very crucial for his character development. So, I assume there must be a way for people or someone outside the Dubai trio to know the content of the interview, no matter if it'll be published or not)

And I don't begrudge actors being vague with the answer because like us, they only know the scripts. They didn't know in detail how the show will tackle certain things in the future. They only know the script says Louis would stay no matter how bad Loustat were with each other and their job is to make it make sense to us despite the script/character being secretive about it. And even if they know, they can't spoil it to us either. (and this is what some of us tend to forget when we're processing actor's answers in interviews)

#moi.txt #iwtv #am i clear enough? i think i do lol #sorry i talk a lot

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halothenthehorns · 2 years ago

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Chapter 4: THALIA TORCHES NEW ENGLAND

Thalia took the book from Rachel without batting an eye and used all of her immortal grace to grab just a few to many pages as subtly as possible, it would be no major difference to Percy she was sure if he just skipped this one part and arrived at camp without-

Rachel caught her before she could finish flipping the few innocent pieces of paper necessary, gently meeting her eyes and giving her wrist a reassuring squeeze.

How to explain? She couldn't be seen as weak in front of them. She was a Hunter of Artemis, she was Percy's closest friend in here and his guide on how to navigate this insanity. And Jason...

Whether that guy was the ghost of her baby brother back to haunt her or some deranged joke by the gods of a look-alike, he was as lost as Percy. She wanted to be the example for the two of them how to calmly get out of this, and she didn't think she could do that with this chapter.

She wished Annabeth were here, her little sister at least knew what she didn't want to share. Rachel just seemed to know she was afraid of something. Then Thalia glanced at Percy and Nico, both of whom were going through pretty much their most miserable time in this book. Her eyes lingered on Jason, the little two-year-old in her mind crying as his lip bled from that cut as she tried to stop it while their mom had been on the phone telling them to quiet down. The first thing Beryl Grace had said when she'd seen it was it might need cosmetic surgery to hide a scar.

She felt like she'd shared more than enough already, wasn't dying and coming back to a broken world enough? She didn't want to expose this fear too.

Percy leaned forward in his seat as she kept hesitating, he'd watched her try to skip those and wasn't going to say a word. "You want to get out of here Thals?" Eyes flickering to the door in clear invitation, just the two of them could leave. It really wasn't anybody else's concern, and at least if just Percy found out she wouldn't have to endure him mocking and laughing at her like the others would be prone to do. A child of Zeus afraid of heights, who wouldn't laugh?

It was the choice that made her decide to stay though. Like nobody had ever given her before on the course of her life.

If she'd just skipped over every awful thing that had happened to Percy thus far he'd have no clue what was going on in his own life. This wasn't the only time it would come up in hers, and if she started picking and choosing now what unpleasantness she wanted to skip, how would that be fair to Percy and Nico who hadn't once complained of their own pasts being revealed?

"No, I'm, I'm good," she lied. She was glad that Percy had moved away though, she might intentionally zap him when he figured it out. She could still do it across the room sitting next to Jason, but she might hesitate a little more.

She still had to give Rachel's hand a little shake to let go of her wrist, and her friend reluctantly did so with troubled eyes. 'Sorry,' she mouthed, but Thalia knew she was right too. Even being immortal now, keeping this kind of thing buried didn't mean it would never come back. Annabeth might have let her get away with skipping, but she would have protested later about the wisdom in that.

With a ragged breath, Thalia read, "Thalia Torches New England. Wow, it is kind of weird reading your own name."

"Know my pain!" Percy agreed triumphantly.

'You have no idea,' she silently agreed as she forced herself to start over Alex and Jason's spluttering, already laughing protests they wanted her to give a clue she would not be providing.

"When did this happen? Am I secretly dead?" Magnus asked. He'd notice his city on fire, even the Mist couldn't hide that. He was ignored right along with them though.

Artemis assured us that dawn was coming, but you could've fooled me. It was colder and darker and snowier than ever.

"You've never heard the saying the night's darkest just before the dawn?" Nico asked in surprise. Perfect time for shadow traveling.

"Must have missed that one in all the classes I got kicked out of," Percy clearly wasn't impressed regardless.

Up on the hill, Westover Hall's windows were completely lightless. I wondered if the teachers had even noticed the di Angelos and Dr. Thorn were missing yet. I didn't want to be around when they did. With my luck, the only name Mrs. Gottschalk would remember was "Percy Jackson," and then I'd be the subject of a nationwide manhunt... again.

"See, this is why you should have used fake name's Prissy," Alex oh so helpfully reminded.

"They still would have found a way to blame me," Percy said confidently. "The newspaper would have misspelled that into my name!"

"You might even get kicked out of a school before you even enrolled in it for once," Jason chuckled.

The Hunters broke camp as quickly as they'd set it up. I stood shivering in the snow (unlike the Hunters, who didn't seem to feel at all uncomfortable), and Artemis stared into the east like she was expecting something. Bianca sat off to one side, talking with Nico. I could tell from his gloomy face that she was explaining her decision to join the Hunt. I couldn't help thinking how selfish it was of her, abandoning her brother like that.

Nico's throat threatened to close shut and never open again as he heard that. Percy agreeing with him, on top of remembering the piss poor words his sister had used to try and explain how this was going to be great for both of them, some space, like he'd never asked for...

"Thanks Percy," he found himself saying, "I thought so too, but now I'm, I'm glad she did what made her happy." The words sounded more mechanical than if an automaton had pulled them out of him, but somewhere in him, he meant it. He was trying to at least.

"Yeah," Percy said softly, "sucks man." He felt while looking at Nico now he finally had an inkling of why the guy was so weird, just a little off. Had his sister dumped him at camp and not come back yet? There was still something he was definitely missing about the pair of them as he studied his olive complexion and dark eyes he couldn't connect a dot with.

Thalia and Grover came up and huddled around me, anxious to hear what had happened in my audience with the goddess.

When I told them, Grover turned pale. "The last time the Hunters visited camp, it didn't go well."

"Do they torch every place they go?" Magnus asked wearily. "Do you get tricked into joining them early and torch New England in retaliation?"

"Not even close," but Thalia was smiling lightly back, it did sound funny out of context and she wasn't looking forward to when it was corrected.

"How'd they even show up here?" I wondered. "I mean, they just appeared out of nowhere."

"And Bianca joined them," Thalia said, disgusted. "It's all Zoe's fault. That stuck-up, no good—"

"And I thought you hated me," Percy grinned uneasily. "Glad I never did whatever she put in your bonnet."

"That is not the saying," Will corrected.

Percy didn't hear what the saying actually was as he realized Thalia hadn't corrected him, instead studying the wall behind him very intently until she realized Will was done talking so she could keep going.

"Who can blame her?" Grover said. "Eternity with Artemis?" He heaved a big sigh.

Thalia rolled her eyes. "You satyrs. You're all in love with Artemis. Don't you get that she'll never love you back?"

"But she's so... into nature," Grover swooned.

"I really hope you're there when he meets Pan now," Jason chuckled. "If this is his reaction to meeting a goddess associated with nature, he might faint upon the God of the Wild."

Percy laughed along in agreement even as he winced, while Nico sat very far back in his seat with a pit in his stomach. Will did a double take upon seeing that look on his face, but Nico was already going through enough with his sister on display, he really didn't want to push him over what that was about.

In all the retellings of Grover's tale that day, nobody had mentioned Nico was there though.

"You're nuts," said Thalia.

"Nuts and berries," Grover said dreamily. "Yeah."

"Being proud of you who are," Alex nodded saintly.

Finally the sky began to lighten. Artemis muttered, "About time. He's so-o-o lazy during the winter."

"According to her he's lazy year around," Thalia happily pronounced, "the weather makes him different kinds of lazy."

"I think I found my spirit god," Percy shrugged as he rubbed at his eyes. They'd barely been at this for an hour, two tops today, and he was already getting drowsy again.

"You're, um, waiting for sunrise?" I asked.

"For my brother. Yes."

I didn't want to be rude. I mean, I knew the legends about Apollo—or sometimes Helios—driving a big sun chariot across the sky. But I also knew that the sun was really a star about a zillion miles away. I'd gotten used to some of the Greek myths being true, but still... I didn't see how Apollo could drive the sun.

"That's definitely got to be a metaphor or we're all going to die," Magnus said with confidence.

"I thought you were past the whole questioning the reality of all this phase?" Rachel smiled at his naivety.

"Never," he promised.

"It's not exactly as you think," Artemis said, like she was reading my mind.

"Oh, okay." I started to relax. "So, it's not like he'll be pulling up in a—"

There was a sudden burst of light on the horizon. A blast of warmth.

"Don't look," Artemis advised. "Not until he parks."

Parks?

I averted my eyes, and saw that the other kids were doing the same. The light and warmth intensified until my winter coat felt like it was melting off of me. Then suddenly the light died.

I looked. And I couldn't believe it. It was my car.

"Unless Beckendorf built you a Transformer, I don't think so," Will grinned, his smile weary but genuine as he kept mentioning the old head of cabin 9 with great effort not to wince.

"I'm pretty sure Chiron would ban you and the Stoll brothers from camp if you said that anywhere other than here," Thalia promised.

Well, the car I wanted, anyway. A red convertible Maserati Spyder.

"I don't speak car," Jason informed with a mystified expression.

"A red convertible," Nico repeated with a shrug, "looked fancy."

Percy looked devastated at the pair of them and promised, "I have got to introduce you two when we get out of this."

"Does it show everybody the car they'd want?" Magnus asked with an old smile, imagining he'd see his mom's beat-up truck with that dent in the hood.

"It shows the car Apollo wants," Thalia corrected.

It was so awesome it glowed. Then I realized it was glowing because the metal was hot. The snow had melted around the Maserati in a perfect circle, which explained why I was now standing on green grass and my shoes were wet.

"These books are going to melt my brain," Magnus promised. He missed science class. This was not a good substitute.

"Would it help at all if I said don't think about it to hard," Percy offered. "They, coexist?"

"No, but thanks for trying," Magnus answered, tapping his ears to make sure goo wasn't leaking out already.

The driver got out, smiling. He looked about seventeen or eighteen, and for a second, I had the uneasy feeling it was Luke, my old enemy.

"You're not old enough to have an old enemy," Jason rolled his eyes. Apollo, like all of the strange Greek gods, seemed a lot more relaxed than he'd ever believe possible a god should be, but he kept telling himself he was getting used to it.

"He's your only enemy," Alex added, considering he worked directly under the ultimate enemy.

"You're about to make the list," Percy rolled his eyes, not indicating which one of them he meant.

This guy had the same sandy hair and outdoorsy good looks. But it wasn't Luke. This guy was taller, with no scar on his face like Luke's. His smile was brighter and more playful. (Luke didn't do much more than scowl and sneer these days.) The Maserati driver wore jeans and loafers and a sleeveless T-shirt.

"Just what my dad needs, more compliments about him imprinted in these pages," Will chuckled.

"You look like him," Nico said absently, still internally shaking his head at his younger self. The second god had appeared in a matter of hours and he'd still just been smitten with Percy and now more angry and confused than he ever had in his life at his sister.

"Thank you!" Will beamed as he stretched out like a cat, though he was wearing flip-flops and an orange shirt, otherwise it was an eerie resemblance to that sunlit morning, he even looked like he was glowing for a second.

"Wow," Thalia muttered. "Apollo is hot."

"He's the sun god," I said.

"That's not what I meant."

"You are so clueless Percy," Thalia sighed, even now he was watching her like he thought her answer wasn't up to scratch.

"Little sister!" Apollo called. If his teeth were any whiter he could've blinded us without the sun car. "What's up? You never call. You never write. I was getting worried!"

"Can't they just pop in on each other whenever they want?" Jason chuckled.

"Oh they do," Thalia rolled her eyes, "Apollo is pretty terrible about it, he is this flamboyant about everything."

"I'm just imagining a god going missing now and Oceanus snapping his fingers to fix it," Magnus rolled his eyes.

"I can't even imagine what would trap a god away," Percy muttered with an uneasy wince.

"I can," Alex said with a dark, pleased look on her face Magnus was a little afraid to know the meaning behind.

Thalia quickly kept going, swallowing a lump in her throat as Percy brushed his hand through a few gray strands of hair.

Artemis sighed. "I'm fine, Apollo. And I am not your little sister."

"Hey, I was born first."

"We're twins! How many millennia do we have to argue—"

"Eternity," Will assured.

"So what's up?" he interrupted. "Got the girls with you, I see. You all need some tips on archery?"

Artemis grit her teeth.

A sentiment shared by her lieutenant, making the next sentence come out muffled and funny.

"I need a favor. I have some hunting to do, alone. I need you to take my companions to Camp Half-Blood."

"Sure, sis!" Then he raised his hands in a stop everything gesture. "I feel a haiku coming on."

The Hunters all groaned. Apparently they'd met Apollo before.

"Frequently," Thalia's smile was nostalgic, and a little sad. It wasn't so unusual to go weeks without seeing Artemis, but even before she'd been trapped down here and heard of Olympus closing it was going on longer than usual. Was it naïve of her to wish Poseidon had a book in that massive pile explaining all of this? She certainly had to wish for something good to come out of this torture she was about to endure herself through.

He cleared his throat and held up one hand dramatically.

"Green grass breaks through snow.

Artemis pleads for my help.

I am so cool."

He grinned at us, waiting for applause.

"Nobody applauded by the way," Nico offered.

"That wasn't five syllables," Alex looked devastated. "A god can't keep count? Isn't he the god of music too?"

Will rubbed the back of his head and chose not to answer that.

"That last line was only four syllables," Artemis said.

Apollo frowned. "Was it?"

"Yes. What about I am so big-headed?"

"No, no, that's six syllables. Hmm." He started muttering to himself.

"I kind of like him," Magnus chuckled, apparently having decided his brain wasn't melting since the sun god didn't blow up the continent from his sister's light ribbing.

Zoe Nightshade turned to us. "Lord Apollo has been going through this haiku phase ever since he visited Japan. 'Tis not as bad as the time he visited Limerick. If I'd had to hear one more poem that started with, There once was a goddess from Sparta—"

"That was the most pleasant sentence she'd yet said to us," Percy grinned.

"The enemy of the limerick is my friend," Thalia nodded along.

"I've got it!" Apollo announced. "I am so awesome. That's five syllables!" He bowed, looking very pleased with himself.

"Someone has to around there," Rachel smirked.

"I want all of this on record," Percy reminded, "when you were all freaking out about how I spoke to Ares."

"Apollo isn't Ares," Thalia scoffed, "he's chill to play along with, most of the time."

"If you're a girl, or one of his kids," Rachel reminded with a proud gesture at herself which only a few got; or his mortal oracle.

"I'm still hoping Percy doesn't press his luck by calling him something worse than big-headed," Jason muttered. He didn't think he'd ever get used to the casual way these Greek kids interacted with the gods.

"And now, sis. Transportation for the Hunters, you say? Good timing. I was just about ready to roll."

"These demigods will also need a ride," Artemis said, pointing to us. "Some of Chiron's campers."

"No problem!" Apollo checked us out. "Let's see... Thalia, right? I've heard all about you."

Thalia blushed. "Hi, Lord Apollo."

Thalia gritted her teeth and talked herself out of getting seven arrows ready as someone muffled a snort. She didn't look up to see who.

"Zeus's girl, yes? Makes you my half sister. Used to be a tree, didn't you? Glad you're back. I hate it when pretty girls turn into trees. Man, I remember one time—"

"Brother," Artemis said. "You should get going."

"Wise words," Will said, but his smile was more sympathetic. "He gets all weepy every time about Daphne."

Percy gave him a blank look and assumed Will was talking about one of his siblings.

"Oh, right." Then he looked at me, and his eyes narrowed. "Percy Jackson?"

"Yeah. I mean... yes, sir."

It seemed weird calling a teenager "sir," but I'd learned to be careful with immortals. They tended to get offended easily. Then they blew stuff up.

"See, that threat keeps being mentioned, but has yet to happen," Alex waved a hand around in disappointment.

"Are you hoping for a whole building, or a state?" Magnus asked indulgently.

"I'll settle for one person who annoys me," she shrugged.

Apollo studied me, but he didn't say anything, which I found a little creepy.

"Well!" he said at last. "We'd better load up, huh? Ride only goes one way—west. And if you miss it, you miss it."

"That was ominous," Alex said cheerfully.

"Your dad's the god of prophecy too, right?" Percy asked uneasily. "He's not as weird about that as he is with the poetry is he?"

Will helpfully didn't answer again by tugging on his ear and not looking at him. His dad had likely fixated on not just Percy in that moment, but maybe even scattered to the cosmos and back as he realized he was standing amongst the four children of the big three, more than had existed in decades, if not longer considering even before the pact they didn't congregate in the same place much. Perhaps Apollo had been trying to sense which of them was the child of the prophecy, or he'd had some internal sense about the Di Angelo kids or even Thalia's coming immortality in joining him as his half sister.

Or his dad could have been arguing with executives in Tennessee and gotten distracted for a moment. It really was no telling with him.

I looked at the Maserati, which would seat two people max. There were about twenty of us.

"Cool car," Nico said.

"Thanks, kid," Apollo said.

"But how will we all fit?"

"I was imagining him tying us to the bumper and was way to excited," Nico admitted, deciding if Percy wanted revenge for him laughing at that guinea pig moment he should get it over with now.

"I thought he'd tie us all to the hood instead like trophies," Percy instead agreed.

"Oh." Apollo seemed to notice the problem for the first time. "Well, yeah. I hate to change out of sports-car mode, but I suppose..."

He took out his car keys and beeped the security alarm button. Chirp, chirp.

For a moment, the car glowed brightly again. When the glare died, the Maserati had been replaced by one of those Turtle Top shuttle buses like we used for school basketball games.

"Does it shoot manhole covers out of the front?" Alex grinned. "Does it have giant nunchuck arms?"

"What on earth are you talking about?" Percy was pleased to see everybody looked as confused as him about something for once.

"And I thought I had a bad childhood," she huffed without further explanation.

"Right," he said. "Everybody in."

Zoe ordered the Hunters to start loading. She picked up her camping pack, and Apollo said, "Here, sweetheart. Let me get that."

Zoe recoiled. Her eyes flashed murderously.

"Brother," Artemis chided. "You do not help my Hunters. You do not look at, talk to, or flirt with my Hunters. And you do not call them sweetheart."

"She has that speech down pat," Thalia got her last ditch moment to smile at something as she informed them.

Apollo spread his hands. "Sorry. I forgot.

"Be glad he's not the god of memory," Magnus muttered.

Hey, sis, where are you off to, anyway?"

"Hunting," Artemis said. "It's none of your business."

"I'll find out. I see all. Know all."

Artemis snorted. "Just drop them off, Apollo. And no messing around!"

"No, no! I never mess around."

Eight collective snorts circled the room this time, and Thalia's tense grip on the book finally eased just a bit.

Artemis rolled her eyes, then looked at us. "I will see you by winter solstice. Zoe, you are in charge of the Hunters. Do well. Do as I would do."

"Can she turn people into jackalopes?" Percy asked in concern.

"If so, it's not a power I've discovered yet," Thalia said tragically, but she at least got one last genuine laugh too.

Zoe straightened. "Yes, my lady."

Artemis knelt and touched the ground as if looking for tracks. When she rose, she looked troubled. "So much danger. The beast must be found."

She sprinted toward the woods and melted into the snow and shadows.

Apollo turned and grinned, jangling the car keys on his finger. "So," he said. "Who wants to drive?"

Alex's hand shot up like it was on fire, but the look on her face made all of them want to run screaming how soon she'd crash on purpose.

"Well that's already spoiled," Magnus reminded with that same way he always talked to her, like he'd be sitting in the passenger seat through the whole ride. "I'm sure you're not that bad of a driver Thalia, Apollo probably fixed New England," he finished cheerfully to her.

She didn't answer, eyes trained on the pages, the spine to close to her face. It was starting to worry them, they'd yet seen Thalia so unsettled.

The Hunters piled into the van. They all crammed into the back so they'd be as far away as possible from Apollo and the rest of us highly infectious males,

"That toxic masculinity crap is very contagious," Will said breezily.

"Makes you wonder what they were calling Thalia in their head," Jason said defensively.

"Nothing I cared about correcting," she shrugged. Some of the hunters were still old fashioned and thought her casual approach to boys insubordinate to the cause, but were still respectful of her position. It was a fine line she walked. Speaking of her sisters had kept the strain out of her voice for a moment, but Will grew concerned when it jumped right back.

Bianca sat with them, leaving her little brother to hang in the front with us, which seemed cold to me, but Nico didn't seem to mind.

"Seemed to," he repeated, but managed to keep his own ire off the grid much better. He'd sat apart from his sister in busses before, she was usually good at making friends while he kept himself entertained. It never seemed to last, she'd always drift back over to sit with him and make sure he wasn't getting car sick or ask if he needed the bathroom. She hadn't this time. He had kept telling himself maybe Bianca was right and this might be a good change, let him grow up just a little without his sister constantly nagging at him in front of Percy.

"This is so cool!" Nico said, jumping up and down in the driver's seat.

"Your feet couldn't even reach the pedals," Percy told him fondly.

"Apollo could have readjusted it if he wanted," Nico insisted, "he's just as prejudiced as his twin. He wanted to impress his half-sister!"

"Maybe I can talk him into letting me drive it, I'll sneak you in and he'll have no choice," Will offered.

"I'm game!" Percy fist-pumped the air as hard as Alex had, apparently not picking up on the fact Will had been looking at Nico when he answered.

Nico's dark eyes were dancing with just a hint of excitement too as he whispered, "road trip, right. Because we haven't been forced to spend enough time together."

"It's strange, I've yet seen a hint of a hellhound being sicked onto me for this dragging out," Will grinned.

"She's on her way," Nico vowed, knowing it wouldn't take much coaxing to at least sick Mrs. O'Leary on him when they got back. He was pretty sure Will wouldn't drown in her doggy drool.

"Is this really the sun? I thought Helios and Selene were the sun and moon gods. How come sometimes it's them and sometimes it's you and Artemis?"

"Downsizing," Apollo said. "The Romans started it.

Zzzzaaapp!

"Ouch!" Percy yelped, jumping away from Jason and rubbing his arm. "Dude! Nobody can complain I'm related to an electrical eel if you're going to shock me like that."

Nico's hair was standing on end too from sitting on his other side, but he quickly brushed it back down with an intrigued look at him, and then his forearm.

Rachel was studying him too with those eerie, too intelligent eyes that normally saw more than just the scar on his lip in the gloom.

"I what?" He hadn't taken his eyes off the book.

Percy sat back down beside him and made a few more jokes about the sea life starting to convert Jason, but Thalia was still jittery like she was sitting on an angler fish ready to snap and reading on distractedly before silence had fallen despite the fact she'd have liked the reprieve for a while longer.

They couldn't afford all those temple sacrifices, so they laid off Helios and Selene and folded their duties into our job descriptions. My sis got the moon. I got the sun. It was pretty annoying at first, but at least I got this cool car."

Jason's single minded focus on the book felt as unfulfilled as as popped balloon. Roman. The word battered around his brain disconnecting any smidge of rightness he'd thought he'd gotten used to.

For just a split second as the strange girl with black hair took a breath, he felt trapped between the Son of Neptune and Pluto. In a room full of enemies he'd have to escape.

Then Thalia kept reading, and Percy was still watching her with a clear feeling of nerves. He'd seemed ten times more on edge all day, with Annabeth now out of the foreseeable picture and his best friend in here as constantly on edge as him. It wasn't a problem he actually felt like he could help to fix, but it soothed away the building pressure in his skull he couldn't unravel.

"But how does it work?" Nico asked. "I thought the sun was a big fiery ball of gas!"

Apollo chuckled and ruffled Nico's hair. "That rumor probably got started because Artemis used to call me a big fiery ball of gas. Seriously, kid, it depends on whether you're talking astronomy or philosophy. You want to talk astronomy? Bah, what fun is that? You want to talk about how humans think about the sun? Ah, now that's more interesting. They've got a lot riding on the sun... er, so to speak.

"Pun, pun, pun," Will chuckled.

"I hate to ask, but your dad invented the dad joke, didn't he?" Nico sighed.

"He'll certainly claim he did," Will nodded.

It keeps them warm, grows their crops, powers engines, makes everything look, well, sunnier. This chariot is built out of human dreams about the sun, kid. It's as old as Western Civilization. Every day, it drives across the sky from east to west, lighting up all those puny little mortal lives. The chariot is a manifestation of the sun's power, the way mortals perceive it. Make sense?"

Nico shook his head. "No."

Rachel was smiling genially at the end and promised, "oh I'd love to go over this with you later then. My school actually has an interesting art program, and I did a construct take on Western Civilization over the eras and used cars to symbolize it."

Nico looked at her without response. He'd never had a direct conversation with her before, she was around camp more frequently than him but always hung around Percy or Chiron. "Um, that's not necessary, I'm good now."

He half expected her to be like Will and stubbornly insist he'd enjoy it, but she merely looked disappointed and let it go and he was surprised to feel guilty about that too.

"Well then, just think of it as a really powerful, really dangerous solar car."

"Can I drive?"

"No. Too young."

"Oo! Oo!" Grover raised his hand.

"Mm, no," Apollo said. "Too furry." He looked past me and focused on Thalia.

Alex at least got a good laugh out of Percy and Nico's exact same disappointed look, and could all to easily imagine Grover would be even more offended.

"Daughter of Zeus!" he said. "Lord of the sky. Perfect."

"Oh, no." Thalia shook her head. "No, thanks."

"C'mon," Apollo said. "How old are you?"

Thalia hesitated. "I don't know."

"And the number gets murkier every year," she murmured to herself. Being immortal now meant she wasn't to concerned with keeping track of it either.

It was sad, but true. She'd been turned into a tree when she was twelve, but that had been seven years ago. So she should be nineteen, if you went by years. But she still felt like she was twelve, and if you looked at her, she seemed somewhere in between. The best Chiron could figure, she had kept aging while in tree form, but much more slowly.

Magnus let out an uneasy whistle. "That can't be fun."

"It's," she didn't finish, she didn't have to. She was sitting tense in her seat, she wanted to bury this book. She just had to be reminded of all that right before the worst Drivers Ed test in the universe!

Apollo tapped his finger to his lips. "You're fifteen, almost sixteen."

"How do you know that?"

"Hey, I'm the god of prophecy. I know stuff. You'll turn sixteen in about a week."

"That's my birthday! December twenty-second."

"Which means you're old enough now to drive with a learner's permit!"

Thalia shifted her feet nervously. "Uh—"

"I know what you're going to say," Apollo said. "You don't deserve an honor like driving the sun chariot."

"That's not what I was going to say."

There were several things she'd like to say, most of them in Greek she was hissing now. Will shifted uneasily in his seat and wanted to go check on her, but Nico caught his arm and shook his head. He didn't know what was wrong, but he worried it was closer to Percy's headaches than something Will could diagnose.

"Don't sweat it! Maine to Long Island is a really short trip, and don't worry about what happened to the last kid I trained. You're Zeus's daughter. He's not going to blast you out of the sky."

"Um, should I be concerned!" Percy raised his hand with a lot of concern.

"This is a godly sanctioned trip?" But Rachel didn't sound all that convinced, and she was starting to feel terrible about encouraging Thalia to go through with this. She could feel a storm brewing in the air, and she was sitting next to the eye of it.

Apollo laughed good-naturedly. The rest of us didn't join him.

Thalia tried to protest, but Apollo was absolutely not going to take "no" for an answer.

"I'm going to blow a whistle in this guy's ear and see if he can hear anything again," Alex scowled.

"Err, maybe save that for plan B," Magnus muttered.

He hit a button on the dashboard, and a sign popped up along the top of the windshield. I had to read it backward (which, for a dyslexic, really isn't that different than reading forward). I was pretty sure it said WARNING: STUDENT DRIVER.

"Take it away!" Apollo told Thalia. "You're gonna be a natural!"

'A natural disaster,' Nico kept to himself as he rubbed at his abused rib cage.

I'll admit I was jealous.

"That's twice I've admitted that to you," Percy tried to coax a fun rise out of her like usual, "I'm getting worried, where's the boasting Thals?"

She didn't answer, her bow and arrows were flickering in and out of existence on her back like a hologram swirled in with the plankton floating off the floor now, migrating towards her.

I couldn't wait to start driving. A couple of times that fall, my mom had taken me out to Montauk when the beach road was empty, and she'd let me try out her Mazda. I mean, yeah, that was a Japanese compact, and this was the sun chariot, but how different could it be?

"Speed equals heat," Apollo advised. "So start slowly, and make sure you've got good altitude before you really open her up."

Thalia's voice cracked with stress, and an arc of lightning flickered over her fingers on the purple spine. She cleared her throat valiantly, and they'd all swear they felt thunder rumble on the ocean floor.

"Er, so, what do you think he named her?" Percy tried again. "Sunny?"

"I've never asked," Will admitted, his own hint of jealousy much more well covered than Percy's had been. He'd never actually been in his dads car and it had been a false promise to Nico anyways.

Thalia gripped the wheel so tight her knuckles turned white. She looked like she was going to be sick.

They needed that description since no one could see her face, and had guessed it without the proof.

"What's wrong?" I asked her.

"Nothing," she said shakily. "N-nothing is wrong."

"Thalia, you sure you don't want to step out of here?" Percy stood up wearily in concern.

"Nothing's wrong!" She repeated in the same convincing tone as she continued reading in. Percy forced himself to sit back down, feeling useless how to help her but ready to drown someone on the spot if anybody else bugged her.

She pulled back on the wheel. It tilted, and the bus lurched upward so fast I fell back and crashed against something soft.

"Ow" Grover said.

"Sorry."

"Slower!" Apollo said.

"Sorry!" Thalia said. "I've got it under control!"

I managed to get to my feet. Looking out the window, I saw a smoking ring of trees from the clearing where we'd taken off.

"Thalia," I said, "lighten up on the accelerator."

"I've got it, Percy," she said, gritting her teeth. But she kept it floored.

"Loosen up," I told her.

"I'm loose!" Thalia said. She was so stiff she looked like she was made out of plywood.

"That tree got its roots in you?" Magnus asked uneasily, his mind still on that fleece. Did she get sick when she left the ground?

She was still ignoring everybody, they could see tendons in her neck. It looked painful reading, and Rachel would swear she saw a bead of blood on the page like she'd bit her tongue before she'd violently flipped pages.

"We need to veer south for Long Island," Apollo said. "Hang a left."

Thalia jerked the wheel and again threw me into Grover, who yelped.

"The other left," Apollo suggested.

I made the mistake of looking out the window again. We were at airplane height now— so high the sky was starting to look black.

"That's one way to stop global warming," Alex said under her breath, but more because she felt like it would insult Thalia if they pretended everything wasn't okay. Even if she wasn't listening, the background words had to help a bit.

"Ah..." Apollo said, and I got the feeling he was forcing himself to sound calm. "A little lower, sweetheart. Cape Cod is freezing over."

Thalia tilted the wheel. Her face was chalk white, her forehead beaded with sweat.

Something was definitely wrong. I'd never seen her like this.

Nobody had before, except Luke. She could still vividly recall standing on that roof, the way the world had spun sickeningly- but it was Apollo trying to talk her through this stupid bus! She was fine, she was in control!

The bus pitched down and somebody screamed. Maybe it was me.

"I think Zoe was guilty actually," Nico muttered as he rubbed his ear, but it could have been Thalia, or himself. Maybe Grover could shriek that loud if his fur was in a twist too.

Now we were heading straight toward the Atlantic Ocean at a thousand miles an hour, the New England coastline off to our right. And it was getting hot in the bus.

Apollo had been thrown somewhere in the back of the bus, but he started climbing up the rows of seats.

"Take the wheel!" Grover begged him.

"No worries," Apollo said. He looked plenty worried. "She just has to learn to— WHOA!"

I saw what he was seeing. Down below us was a little snow-covered New England town. At least, it used to be snow-covered. As I watched, the snow melted off the trees and the roofs and the lawns. The white steeple on a church turned brown and started to smolder.

"Talk about divine intervention," Alex offered.

"I thought that was a comet," Magnus said in wonderment, it had all blinked in and out of existence so fast, he'd thought he'd imagined the heat before the snow surrounded them again. That mist was powerful stuff.

Little plumes of smoke, like birthday candles, were popping up all over the town. Trees and rooftops were catching fire.

"Pull up!" I yelled.

There was a wild light in Thalia's eyes. She yanked back on the wheel, and I held on this time. As we zoomed up, I could see through the back window that the fires in the town were being snuffed out by the sudden blast of cold.

"There!" Apollo pointed. "Long Island, dead ahead. Let's slow down, dear. 'Dead' is only an expression."

"Only if you use it wrong," Nico said softly, studying Thalia carefully. She didn't have a death aura, the opposite with her faint, immortal silver glow still around her, but power was crackling out from her in the same dangerous current Percy so often gave off. She was starting to sweat, and he couldn't decide if he should let Will go to check on her or duck in front of the guy if she went off.

Thalia was thundering toward the coastline of northern Long Island. There was Camp Half-Blood: the valley, the woods, the beach. I could see the dining pavilion and cabins and the amphitheater.

"I'm under control," Thalia muttered. "I'm under control."

We were only a few hundred yards away now.

"Brake," Apollo said.

"I can do this."

"BRAKE!"

Thalia slammed her foot on the brake, and the sun bus pitched forward at a forty-five degree angle, slamming into the Camp Half-Blood canoe lake with a huge FLOOOOOOSH!

"That explains that warning sign," Rachel popped the side of her head in relief. "I always wondered why the naiads told me they needed one for no bus parking in there."

Thalia still wouldn't look up.

Steam billowed up, sending several frightened naiads scrambling out of the water with halfwoven wicker baskets.

The bus bobbed to the surface, along with a couple of capsized, half-melted canoes.

"Well," said Apollo with a brave smile. "You were right, my dear. You had everything under control! Let's go see if we boiled anyone important, shall we?"

"Define important?" Percy asked as he rubbed at his head to make sure it was still attached.

"If Dionysus hasn't killed them yet I like her chances," Nico shrugged.

"Oh shush, all of you," Jason jumped in as Thalia still had a strangle hold on the book and didn't even seem to realize she was done despite Rachel trying to tug it away. "We don't have to learn every detail of each other's lives, Thalia's entitled to whatever was bothering her to stay with her."

"We weren't teasing," Nico assured as he got up. "Awkward silence would be worse though, right Thalia?"

She was still taking calming breaths and fighting down shame just the memory of that had freaked her out so badly, but quickly waved Nico on so she wouldn't have to respond, practically throwing it into his chest. So Percy hadn't figured it out, his face as clueless and concerned as ever, but it was just a matter of time until they had to deal with that pig and Percy truly did remember, then the jokes would start. If nobody else got it sooner.

#pjo #Percy Jackson #BotL #Thalia Grace #rachel elizabeth dare #Jason Grace #nico di angelo #will solace #solangelo #Magnus Chase #alex fierro #fierrochase #HDYSG

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mieldreams · 2 months ago

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Jhumka/Orange Juice

Summary: It's the next evening, Anakin's still a pain in the ass but...he's also nice? Did the orange juice change things? (pt 2 to Payal)

pairing: Anakin Skywalker x desi!reader (or just reader who's familiar/involved with that culture)

Warnings: none at all hehe ( •̀ᴗ•́ )و

A/n: mind numbing exams, soul crushing reality checks and one (1) mental breakdown later – she's finally here! can't believe y'all liked the first Dumpster Fire fic wow. so here's its sequel – Dumpster Fire 2: Electric Bugaloo. hope you enjoy!

Last night had gone splendidly, AJ had met with you right before the dance just as he had promised and the flow of conversation between you guys couldn't have been smoother. Turns out you guys had a lot more in common besides the same course. And what had started as cordial small talk while waiting for more people to gather, had turned into whispered inside jokes by the end of the night, hushed laughter as the people dancing around you gave side eyes.

You had ended up exchanging numbers, promising to plan a hangout sometime soon. And while you had been too busy laughing at the story of how 'one time he had wanted a mullet as a kid but his mother wouldn't let him get one, so naturally he had resorted to expressing his creative urges on his poor pet cat and it was unfortunately right before her death too, so she had to buried looking like a 70s rock god kitty.'

"I'm sorry, I'm sure you miss her," though it was hard to keep a straight face with the mental image of a cat with a rockstar mullet.

"No, it's fine, I mean I was sad, yeah.. specifically considering I already had like 3 options of new names for her that I never got to use." He shook his head with a deep frown.

"Oh yeah? What did you have in mind?"

"Well... there was Paul McCatney" he started to list on his fingers, while you tried to remain serious.

"Uh-huh,"

"Catrick Swayze, or—my personal favourite—David Meowie," and this time there was truly no way you could've stopped the snort from escaping you, an amused grin growing on AJ's face in response, though he continued his charade with an offended tone, "Heyyy, are you mocking my naming abilities??"

"Oh no, I absolutely wouldn't, like ever. Not when you came up with something as original and creative as David Meowie" you gave the most genuine expression you could manage, with arms raised in a 'not me' sort of way.

This time he laughed and that's what had finally snapped Aamani, who had been walking with Krish to the exit, just a few feet behind you and AJ – far enough to not be too intrusive but close enough to hear... well, pretty much everything. But now, she was more than ready to drag your ass back and away from that guy.

"...again, don't you think it's a bit much that we're eavesdropping on her? Plus they're clearly only having a platonic conversation..." Krish whispered, leaning in while still keeping his gaze ahead.

"No it's not. And like you said, it's a platonic conversation, right? So there's nothing we could be eavesdropping on."

Though he didn't entirely agree with his girlfriend, he simply shook his head with a sigh and continued to keep an eye on you, after all, neither of them was too familiar with this AJ guy. Not as familiar as you seemed to have gotten in one evening, at least.

"Also, have you tried calling Anakin?" Aamani asked, getting more and more agitated at the less and less distance between you and AJ as you walked closer together.

"I did. He didn't pick up..." Krish grimaced, thinking they had really ruined it for you two now. And Aamani had always been able to read him like her favourite book, shaking her head firmly.

"Oh no, we did not, don't even think it. We have not ruined it for them. Trust me, okay? We have not. Those two are fucking idiots and they will see what's right— specifically what's right in front of them." she gestured frustratingly, waving her arms in front of her.

Krish looked a little surprised at how serious she was, serious enough to swear apparently, and Aamani of course noticed, shooting him an annoyed glance. He knew she found it annoying when people gave her that look for swearing. Just because she didn't frequently prefer to, doesn't mean she couldn't at all.

"Right, sorry-sorry" he squeezed her hand twice.

"Forget it..." She stopped right in front of him making him pause as well. Turning to him with an almost devious smile, "Because the night's still young... and picture toh abhi baaki hai, mere dost" her smile turning to a full grin with a cheeky wink.

Krish snorted, taking two steps ahead to toss his arm around her shoulders, "I hope you'll love me forever," he sighed, "because I don't even want to imagine the evil schemes you'll have if we break up." His expression held a small but content smile.

"Well, if we ever break up, I'd advise you to be more worried about Y/N than me. If I'm the lord of schemes, she's the emperor of revenge."

And her words brought up the memory of your words to him, almost a year back, right before he'd been about to ask Manu out on their first ever date, he didn't even know how you knew, or where you'd shown up from in that empty college hallway (seriously it was like you had teleported right in front of him or something), and the thought of you actually acting on the promise (threat more like) you had made that day made him shiver.

"–Alright! Who wants to get some late-night momos?" he shouted out instead, noticing that you and AJ had said your goodbyes and started to walk separate ways.

"ME!!!" both your and Manu's shouts echoed in the nearly empty ground. 'And it's just that easy to distract them huh' he laughed to himself, pulling out his car keys as the three of you walked out the gates.

The next day was pretty mundane. For you that is, Krish had been stuck on a 2 hour-long call with Aamani about today's mission. 'Mission Seduction' is what she called it, though she had blushed and sort of stuttered as she said it. He wondered why.

The plan was simple, Krish and Anakin would be meeting up at Manu's house, Krish calling him over with a pile of new kurtas because 'yaar I forgot me and Aamani were supposed to match today, can you please bring over a bunch of kurtas from my closet so we can see which one matches best? Oh, and you can come dressed already. After I change, all four of us can head to the ground together.' A quick text ending with three praying hands emojis along with an actual prayer because—

"Do you really think emojis are gonna convince him to come?" The unsaid reference to last night's events was well understood.

"They have to. I somehow managed to convince Y/N to go late to stall her, nothing will work out if he doesn't show up, and I don't actually have any "special tasty treats from the new sweet shop" to give her—"

"You promised her "tasty treats"?

"Well... we're calling Anakin over and then we're gonna get them where we want them and then they're gonna—"

"—okay, don't say it. I get it."

"—and then she'll take him to the bedroom and—"

"Nope. Absolutely not—"

She cackled as she watched her boyfriend run up the stairs to her room with his hands over his ears, just as you exited the bathroom and walked into the living room.

"What are you laughing like an evil witch for?" and that immediately stopped her laughter. "Umm... noooothing–" she said with a nervous sort of laugh, but she wouldn't meet your eyes, and so you narrowed yours at her.

"Okay, so where's my "special tast—" but the loud *ding-dong* of the front bell interrupts you. You walk towards the door to open it while continuing to talk to her, "Did you have them delivered or something? The shop's just down the road, you know? We could've just walked there if you wanted it so bad, I mean after you told me, I started craving it, and now I want it really bad—"

"What do you want really bad?"

But it wasn't one of those delivery guys from sweet shops. "Anakin."

"Uhm... yeah I—"

"You're not delivering the sweets, are you?? What are you doing here?"

You hear a snort behind you but you could hardly look anywhere but his eyes that gleamed a brilliant blue in the twilight sun backdrop.

"What? No, I got the shirts Krish asked me to," he scoffed rolling his eyes. Never mind, fuck him and his stupid-annoying-gorgeous eyes.

You turned to Manu, "Had Krish—"

But Krish must've already seen Anakin walking up to the door from the window because he came bounding down the steps, greeting Anakin with a bear hug. "Aniii, my man," he maintained a cheery tone though he was wheezing from the run down the stairs, "how you beeeen?"

"Um, normal? About the same since you last saw me 30 minutes ago??"

"Right-right, that's good to hear." Krish gave an almost fake seeming laugh, though it was hard to tell with this guy's perennial happy go lucky vibes.

Now, you and Anakin didn't agree on much, but you immediately shared a questioning look that said, 'what's up with him???'

And Manu of course caught it, having walked up behind boyfriend just as he was about to start rambling nonsense to skirt around the actual lying part.

'You guys are so alike in character, I don't know how you don't see it.' she'd told you once. And you had immediately walked over to her, touching the back of your palm to her forehead to check her temperature.

"Hey, Anakin! Thanks for coming ove– err.. bringing that over," she said while taking the bag from him, "Why don't you come in and wait inside?" She turned to you next, "Not gonna invite him in, Y/N? Some host you are, what happened to 'Atithi Devo Bhava'? she teased as she shoved the bag into her boyfriend's hands and started pushing him towards another room on the ground floor.

"Um first of all, this is your house, you'd be the host," you start as you move aside to wordlessly invite him in with a sweeping gesture of your hand, "second of all, it's less 'devo' and more like 'shaitan ka baccha' really— 'Atithi Shaitan ka Baccha'.." though you mumbled the last part, putting on an exaggerated fake grin when Anakin gave you a questioning glance, though you didn't bother translating.

"Okay, well if I'm not getting my sweets anytime soon, I'm just gonna go finish getting ready. You don't need to use your room right?" Manu shook her head no but she was already lost in planning how to now proceed with The Mission: Part 2.

So she tells Anakin to wait in the living room and that he could turn on the TV or something if he wanted, and goes to the room to discuss their new plan of action considering they hadn't expected Anakin to show up so quickly, before you'd even gotten ready.

Which.. may or may not have had something to do with the secret extra messages Krish had sent Anakin after he'd walked away to Aamani's room.

'Y/N's here too.' 'She's got a real pretty lehenga picked out, you know? :)'

"Okay, so they're both here. Now what?" Krish whispered as soon as Aamani walked into the room and locked the door behind her.

"Hmm... well.. should we go with plan Orange Juice or do you think Strawberry Jam would work better?"

"I think we shouldn't do this at all Aamani," but she just playfully rolled her eyes in annoyance and so he continued, "But if we are doing this, let's go with liquids, it'll be easier... I think..?"

"Orange juice it is then."

And with that she steps out of the room and walks into the living room again, "Would you like something to drink, Anakin? It's good to hydrate yourself before the night-long dancing and all,"

"Um thanks but I'm not gonna dance so it's fine—"

"Are you sure? We have some really good fresh orange juice,"

"No it's fine really—"

"You know what? You just sit right there, I'll get you a glass, okay?" And without waiting for an answer she walks away to the kitchen.

"AAMANI!!" your voice echoes from the floor above, "Have you seen my jhumka?! The silver one with the mirrors?? I'm only able to find one of them.." you yelled as you walk down the stairs and into the living room, "I just had it and now... ugh why am I always losing the other half of my fucking jewellery."

But you stop short as you see Anakin sitting on the couch, boredly flipping through some random magazines, head turning to you as he hears your voice.

Your eyes meet for a brief second before his gaze runs down your body in a slow sweep – down then up again, lingering on your neck exposed by the low neckline and your pierced belly button.

You clear your throat and he immediately averts his gaze.

"Um...you wouldn't have happened to see my jhumka anywhere?" Though you knew it'd be useless asking, you swear you had both of them on before you'd opened the door to Anakin, though you hadn't put the back of the studs in for one of them, so it fell out somewhere I guess.

He stands up from the couch, walking over to you and you have to tilt your head to meet his eyes now that he wasn't sitting. The sudden proximity catches you off guard, eyes wide as he slowly raises his hand towards you, giving you all the time to move away or stop him. But for some reason, you don't.

Instead, you hold your breath as Anakin gently runs a finger over the curve of your right ear, slowly moving the hair covering it to reveal the jhumka you still had. His hand runs down the length of your hair, softly caressing the tresses between his fingers, eyes fixated on your shiny silver jewellery. His tongue pokes out to trace his lips, parting them to say—

"Anakin! I got you the orange juice, it's nice and cold! And don't worry it isn't too sweet either, know that you don't really like—"

You and Anakin jump what you hoped was miles apart the minute you heard Manu's voice, though in reality, it was more like you taking a step away to find something oh-so-interesting on your skirt that you just couldn't take your eyes off of it, running your hands up and down the fabric to smooth down imaginary wrinkles, while Anakin had actually jumped three steps back closer to the coffee table, studying those same boring magazines like he was going to be quizzed on it.

"I didn't know you could read upside-down Ani," Manu's teasing voice called him out.

Aamani was going to pretend like she hadn't seen anything but that didn't mean she couldn't mess with them. Specifically Anakin, considering she was kind of still mad at him for ditching her best friend the way he did last night. Unfortunately, Krish, her more 'grounded in reality' boyfriend wasn't in the room to remind her that Anakin had never actually promised you anything at all, so there was no "ditching". Plus you had seemed completely fine spending the evening with AJ, more than fine even.

You finally look up–if only to check–and sure enough, the magazine he had picked up and flipped to some random page had been upside down, and what's worse (for him, it was funnier for you and Manu) was the giant ad page that you realised was the one with the cartoon.

It was an illustration of two men talking with a speech bubble that said, "I've invested in these new viagra shares, I hear it's a really growing industry."

A performance enhancer ad.

It was even funnier now than when you'd found it the first time and shown Manu. Anakin seemed to have realised what he had been intently staring at too, ears turning bright red, your snort making him snap his head to glare at you. But as he turned his head something caught his eye, glinting in the periphery of his vision from under the coffee table.

"Anyways, here's your orange juice-" but Manu's foot gets caught on the edge of the carpet, her long skirt not allowing her to see her steps properly and she trips, just as Anakin bends down towards the glinting thing.

The glass in her hand, filled to the brim, tips, the juice flying out of it, missing Anakin's kneeled form to the side and landing right on your lehenga top. A gasp escapes your lips, an "oh my god, I'm so sorry" immediately escaping Manu's. Anakin quickly snatches up the object from the floor before walking to you. He looks down to see the orange juice damage on your top just as you raise your head, immediately catching his gaze and snapping at him with a flat tone,

"Stop staring at my tits."

His nostrils flared. "I am not staring at your tits."

But before you could argue back about how you had literally caught him doing just that, Manu came rushing forward with a string of apologies pouring from her mouth.

"Oh my gosh Y/N- I- I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to. Gosh- I've ruined your lehenga I'm really sorry, it was an accident- I wasn't watching my steps and I tripped and-"

You take two steps forward and take her empty hand in yours, giving it a squeeze, "It's fine Manu. This top's ruined but I have others and look–" you gestured to your bottom half, "the skirt's fine. I can just change the top or something, it'll be fine."

"But it's orange juice.. it's gonna stain Y/N– gosh I'm so sorry"

"It's fine, dude. Yeah it'll stain but what's done is done. And like you said it was an accident, so.." you pat her hand before dropping it, "I'm just gonna go change, alright? Then we can all head to ground together."

And with that you walk back to climb the stairs to Manu's room.

After a full 15 minutes of rummaging through both the clothes you had brought over to Manu's house as well as Manu's own closet you had given up on finding something to match the skirt so you just switched both the top and the skirt to a new set entirely.

"MANU!!" You call out after spending a frustrating five minutes trying to tie the strings on the back of your top, "Manu!! Can you help me tie these stupid strings, please? Manu-" You were about to call her a third time before you get interrupted by a knock on the bedroom door.

You walk up to the door and unlock it, opening it to let Manu in. But it isn't Manu standing on the other side. Rather, a sheepish-looking Anakin. Dang why were you repeatedly opening doors to the wrong people today. You had the immediate urge to slam the door shut again, your heartbeat quickening for some reason.

"Uhh.. Manu went out with Krish a while back... something about getting you your sweets as an apology so..." he trails off.

You stare at him with a blank face, not quite catching onto his implication.

He catches your look and sighs. That irks you for some reason, "Look do you have something to say or-"

"It means it's just me and you in the house, Y/N."

"Oh."

"Yeah.."

You look to the side, your head moving in a slow nod, then you walk back into the room towards the dresser with the mirror. You turn your back to the mirror, craning your neck to see the strings you were trying to tie into an at least half-decent-looking bow.

After bending your arms in twenty different awkward ways you finally manage to tie the strings together, letting out a small "Aha!" of victory as you twirl to face the mirror again. But the movement causes the strings to come loose and you feel the bow fall apart into a simple knot again, your face falling with it. A moment passes and you simply stare at the mirror, contemplating changing your clothes again or just choosing to rot to death instead. You watch yourself blink twice.

Anakin clears his throat. Oh, he was still standing there, "I can help if you want.."

You watch yourself blink again. Then take a deep breath, slowly exhaling as you make your choice. Anakin had entered the room to stand behind you now, your eyes meeting in the mirror.

You only give a nonchalant sort of shrug in response, pretending to not care much. Like your heart isn't racing as he takes two steps closer to you, like his sudden warmth behind you doesn't make you want to lean back into his wide chest to feel more of it. like the feather-light caress of his fingers doesn't spread goosebumps across your back, the burning sparks from his warm hands setting fire to your brain.

You had expected him to just go off the knot you had made and simply tie the bow, but his fingers tug on the knot to undo it, catching you off guard as you stumble back into his chest. There. Looks like you got what you wanted, but now you aren't sure if this proximity is a curse or a blessing. His hands continue working in slow deliberate movements to tie the strings, doing a much better job than you had, but the repeated soft brushes of his warm palm and the air that moved from his movements were driving you absolutely mad.

When you felt him finish, you went to turn around. You realise then that your eyes were downcast the entire time, raising them to meet his as you faced him. Your breath hitches in your throat when you realise your faces are hardly a hair's breadth away. You can't remember the last time you were so close. No, you actually do. It was at that party during your second year at college, but that was different. There were other people present no matter what had transpired, but now? Now, you were entirely alone not only in the room but also in the house.

And what should have been a quiet moment in the empty house was overpowered by the thunderous heartbeat in your chest.

What was this? Were you having a heart attack?

Oh my god, Anakin would let you die if you were having a heart attack– you could NOT die with Anakin being the last person you see. God knows what sorts of stupid rumours he'd spread about your final moments. Definitely something mocking or untrue – "she died grovelling at my feet for my forgiveness for the time she mixed pink dye in my body wash" (he had walked around looking like the pink lady troll for 3 whole days – you were not sorry) — "She cried telling me she regretted replacing all the faces in the photos in my dorm with pictures of Steve Buscemi" (wrong. You had only felt bad cutting out his childhood dog's face, even though it was only a duplicate of the original photo) — "She told me I had better hair than her" (that was, unfortunately, true. but you would never ever admit that to him) — "She also said she's leaving me her secret red curry recipe so if I can have that—" (you wouldn't let him have that even over your dead body).

So no, dying with only Anakin as company was not something you could allow. But why weren't you doing anything? Why would your feet not move when you tried to step back from him? Were you even trying?

All these thoughts come to an immediate halt when Anakin uses his hand that had fallen to your waist to tug you into him once more. The smell of pine cones and smoke and leather wraps around your senses like a heavy blanket. Your skin tingles from the warmth of his breath and your head spins from the warmth of his body. His eyes are a mesmerising ocean from this distance, like the sea reflecting a thunderstorm sky – and you feel like you're being pulled into the cyclone, slowly but surely, as your body instinctually moves closer to him.

His face holds an almost pained expression, "What are you doing to me?" he whispers, eyes fluttering close.

Just half a step more and you'd be pressed entirely up against him, just half a step more and you would—

*CRASH*

The sound of something falling right outside the bedroom door makes you both jump apart immediately like your bodies were on fire, they definitely felt like it.

You hear hushed murmurs outside the door and you're sure Anakin hears it too, as you both sneak a look at each other then immediately avert your gazes again.

This time you clear your throat, "I'm gonna.." you awkwardly gesture towards the door with one hand, still refusing to meet his eyes but catching his nod in the periphery of your vision. You walk to the bedroom door, pausing right before it to take a deep breath, trying to shake off whatever haze Anakin had put you in.

That was another thing. Did Anakin know some black magic or something? What had taken over you? What sort of spell had he put on you? And without your permission? Damn him.

This time when you open the door it actually is Manu, and Krish as well, though you can't help but raise a brow at how you find them – Krish, kneeling on the floor in front of the door with a large plastic bag hanging from his hands that covers half his face while Manu is stood beside him with a bent elbow resting on his head like a support, her other arm on her hip as she gives you a suspiciously toothy grin.

"Heyyyy Y/N—" she chirps.

You narrow your eyes.

"—we got ya some sweet treats," and Krish immediately extends his hands forward, the plastic bag swinging with force. You can't help but snort at the sight.

Anakin had walked up behind you now and you tried really hard to be indifferent to the feeling of his chest against your back, but the past 5? 10? 15 minutes? How long had it been? For a moment it had felt like time had stopped in that room and now you didn't know how long it had been since Manu and Krish had left the house. Had they heard the both of you? Worse, had they seen the both of you?

'Seen what?' you chastise yourself. It's not like you were– like you.. were... But your face starts heating up at the memory so you immediately take a step to the side, away from Anakin as much as you could in that tiny doorway.

Manu and Krish notice this and share a concerned look that you both miss.

"What are you doing on the floor?" Anakin speaks up, tilting his head towards Krish's kneeling form.

"Uh... you know.. just checking– just checking for uh.."

"For the safety pin! I dropped a safety pin.." Manu butts in, immediately pretending to look for something on the floor before looking back at you, "I– uh, I dropped a safety pin somewhere and you know.. wouldn't want someone to step on it so.."

"Oh, I'll help you look for it then—" You go to kneel down as well but Manu rushes forward to stop you.

"Oh no, that's alright.. we uh– we realised that I probably accidentally kicked it under that cupboard," she said pointing to a small storage thing to the side with Krish nodding along fervently.

"Oh.. okay." You step to the side as Anakin extends his hand to Krish to help him up.

Manu takes the bag containing the box of sweets and hands it over to you, "Why don't we all eat something and then we'll head out, yeah? Y/N, why don't you and Anakin take these to the kitchen? Krish and I will be down in a minute."

You and Anakin look at each other from the corner of your eyes but immediately look different ways when your gazes meet.

"Um yeah..okay, sure, whatever... let's go" and you start making your way towards the steps, down to the kitchen on the ground floor, Anakin having no option but to follow after stalling for a few seconds.

Once you and Anakin are out of earshot Manu immediately turns to Krish with a worried look, "Why were they like that? Do you think something happened?"

Krish looks towards the steps that you had just climbed down, "I don't know Aamani.. I told you this might not be a good idea.." he too had a frown on his face.

She sighs, "Look I know okay? But I have this gut feeling– there's still hope.. I mean look–" she gestured towards the ground floor, "Y/N didn't say no to going to the kitchen with Anakin," she turns back to Krish with a pleading look, "she wouldn't have agreed if she was so against it. You remember last year right?"

Krish nods in response, though with a slight grimace.

"Exactly. If she really still hated him so much she would never even be in the same room as him. And she's the kind of person who doesn't much hide what she thinks.."

"—which comes with its own set of problems.." Krish adds.

"Hey! Your best friend isn't a saint either. He was the one who started all this, just because he was too immature to simply accept and act on his feelings like a normal person."

Krish makes a clicking sound with his tongue, "Uh, no. I'm pretty sure it was your best friend who started it." he shakes his head definitively, "And while Ani can be immature at times—"

Seeing Manu's 'at times? oh really?' expression he backtracks, "Fine. Anakin can be immature a lot of times but YN isn't exactly guilt-free either."

Aamani scoffs, "Last time I checked, she wasn't the one to—"

"Okay! Amani meri jaan– listen I really don't want to fight you on this. I agree to your plans because I believe in you and we're a team. I don't want whatever's going on between them to come between us and disturb our peace." He takes her hands in his to kiss them, "So can we please not argue?"

And how could she not immediately melt into his arms?

But as she's got her arms around him she launches her sneak attack – the good ol' 'bend your boyfriend with the sweetest voice with the promise of something even sweeter later on' trick.

"...so that means you'll help me execute the next step of the plan right?"

Krish lets out a 'tired single mom' sigh, "Tell me why I'm not surprised that you've already got the next step planned?" though it's more of a rhetorical question.

"Because you're the bestest boyfriend and a reallyyy good friend to both YN and Anakin that's why you'll help me help them?" this time she pulls back to hit him with the full force of puss-in-boots eyes looking directly into his.

"Oof, you use unfair tactics, darling." He shakes his head, grabbing her hand again to lead her to the stairs. "So, what's the next step, O Great Queen of Schemes?"

"I'm glad you asked– my dearest Maharaja, I'm glad you asked." Their voices fading as they make their way down.

This scene inspired the bedroom scene.

*Atithi devo bhava - the guest is god *Shaitan ka baccha - son of the devil/devil's child. So 'atithi shaitan ka baccha' – the guest is the son of the devil.

dividers by @saradika-graphics

A/n: I know this somewhat reads like a crack fic with absolutely no logic but I wasn't in the mood to write anything too serious.

(I wrote this in 2 nights after finishing a show in the aftermath of which I was left with the desolate feeling of having to face reality again :/ so I thought back to the fictional boyfriends we go :D )

So I'm sorry if this isn't what y'all wanted from the 2nd part.. tho maybe we'll still get to see them dance soon? 👀

ps: I am confusion?? about the title of this – I suck at naming fics can you tell? (╥ ᴗ ╥) if u have better suggestions pls do share!

I'm open to any ideas or suggestions that y'all would like to see in the next part so till then

Toodles.

#anakin skywalker x reader #anakin x reader #anakin skywalker #anakin imagine #hayden christensen #hayden christensen x reader #anakin skywalker fluff #star wars #desi reader #anakin fluff #slow burn #sam monroe #sam monroe x reader #hayden christensen smut #miel works #payal universe

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billconrad · 3 months ago

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Emotional Editing

I noticed a recurring pattern while editing my books and articles. It is far easier to edit logical, factual, or funny sentences. They blast through grammar checks and rarely require changes. Why? These basic concepts do not require lofty explanations. X leads to Y, which causes Z. Simple, straightforward, basic, and easy to explain.

The pattern I noticed is that a sentence with passion, sadness, anger, or joy complicates everything. X happened, and Bob feels… Gahh. What does Bob feel? Bob is upset. No, let’s make him angry. Is “upset” different from “angry?” Well, sort of. X happened, and Bob felt angry. Wow, that reads awful. Bob cannot suddenly feel angry. Something must have set him off. We cannot randomly inject a basic feeling because readers require depth.

“Bob was so angry that his blood boiled.” Much better. Now, Bob requires a complete backstory with supporting dialog to reveal how his anger affects others. “Sally, I feel terrible. X makes my heart ache like a thousand needles are crushing it.” That is powerful but incomplete.

Does a human heart feel pain like being crushed by a thousand needles? The pain is not supposed to be sharp; it is supposed to be powerful. Wow, this basic emotional description became complex.

Last night, I edited two paragraphs for style and flow about the main character giving his horse to a low-income family. Functionally, it was fine, and on the surface, I addressed how the main character felt about the gift and how the family reacted. Nothing special was going on. I spent twenty minutes re-tweaking those paragraphs and was still not satisfied. So, I marked the font in red to remind me that this section needed work and moved on to the next paragraph.

What was the big issue? I spent the prior five pages building the bond between the horse and the main character. How can I compress that departure into two paragraphs? Yet, when I tried adding a third, it was blubbery nonsense. At the same time, I needed to make sure I used sound logic, grammar, and flow. Finding that balance between emotional content and good sentence structure always fights me to the death. To further complicate matters, every sentence had a mouthful of “I,” “feel,” “he/she,” and “me.” The result reads like a stuttering child who discovered a thesaurus. Those two paragraphs drove me bonkers.

On the other side of the coin, there must be distance, reflection, and regret. How did the main character feel three paragraphs later? Well, why not skip that emotional junk? That’s easy. Readers hate dispassionate stories.

The core of every good story rests on an emotional foundation. It is crucial to build the bridge into a reader’s mind. I enjoy writing about emotions because digging deep into a character’s mind is fun to pull out their most sacred thoughts.

What can I do? I have discovered a fantastic book called “The Emotion Thesaurus” by Angela Ackerman.

It is a fantastic resource to help authors show emotions, and I have gained a new understanding during the writing process. Yet… Even that fantastic book does not help much during the editing process. The only way to get better is to spend hours and hope some of it sinks in. Bummer.

In reading other works, I see that I am not alone. Many books overcompensate or miss the mark. Regular characters are emotional messes, and horrific characters are confusingly nice. I did not appreciate an excellent emotional scene until I sat down and edited/re-edited a few thousand paragraphs. Yes, I had to go over them more than once.

Fortunately, I see this area as something that I can improve upon. This struggle makes my heartache like a…

You’re the best -Bill

September 22, 2024

Hey book lovers, I published four. Please check them out:

Interviewing Immortality. A dramatic first-person psychological thriller that weaves a tale of intrigue, suspense, and self-confrontation.

Pushed to the Edge of Survival. A drama, romance, and science fiction story about two unlikely people surviving a shipwreck and living with the consequences.

Cable Ties. A slow-burn political thriller that reflects the realities of modern intelligence, law enforcement, department cooperation, and international politics.

Saving Immortality. Continuing in the first-person psychological thriller genre, James Kimble searches for his former captor to answer his life’s questions.

These books are available in soft-cover on Amazon and eBook format everywhere.

#writing #editing #emotions #feelings

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popopretty · 3 years ago

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Pandora Hearts 15th Anniversary Museum

I went to the Pandora Hearts museum the other day and even though I don’t think about the series any more now, it brings back so much memory because it was the first manga I ever got into.

It is called a museum but the venue is rather small, more like an art gallery. Because of Corona, they only allow about 20 people at the same time, and you will have to win a lottery to go in the first few days, aka the busiest day.

The inside is beautiful. There is a greeting from Jun at the entrance and each character featured this time has their own little “corner” that showcase their introductions, their remarkable scenes, and special comments Jun wrote for them. (I took a lot of pictures but bcause of Tumblr’s limit, am just going to share a few of them)

Walking inside, there are the standees of all the anniversary art that you can take photos with.

On the left side is a board Q&A board with Jun, and it has her hand drawing on some of the questions which is really cute xD The content of the Q&A is included in the “Usui hon” that are sold in the museum shop.

And of course, more beautiful arts.

There are also Jack, Vincent and Gil on the floor. While Vincent’s one says “feel free to step on me”, Gil’s is like “if you are going to step on Vince, then step on me instead!” 🤣 So cute <3

The museum goods sell all the stuff related to Pandora Hearts, including the goods from the Pandora Hearts & VnC cafe last time. If anyone is interested in any of the goods, please let me know because I might be able to help you get them (can’t promise because there are countries I cant ship to now. But I’m gonna try my best). You can check out the goods from the following links and send me a message if you are interested (please note that some goods are sold out or not available anymore).

https://magazine.jp.square-enix.com/gfantasy/special/PH_Museum/goods.html

https://pandora-vanitas-cafe.com/tokyo/goods.php

I tried my luck with the random items too and didn’t get Leo or Elliot as I hoped but all of them are so cute 🥰

My favourite item from the shop must be this “usui hon” which translates into “thin book” in Japanese but it is packed with information, interviews and illustrations. There is even a page where Jun sketches out everyone preparing their outfit for this 15th anniversary.

Elliot telling Leo that he looks better when his eyes are not hidden 🥺

Another wholesome activity in the museum this time is that you can listen to nine letters that Oz wrote to each character at the venue, if you purchase the voice guide service. And when you buy the goods from the shop, for every 2000 yen you will receive a random bonus card showing each character’s reaction when they get the letter (and one Oz’s reaction when they write back to him too).

The contents of the letters are also printed in the usui hon and all of them are so lovely and endearing and packed with Oz’s feelings to each of the characters that I feel like crying reading them TvT

And I know I’m not allowed to do this, but let me just put the translation of Oz’s letter to Gil here, just so you can get an idea of how nice it is… And if you are interested in the other letters I would be so happy if you buy the actual book. It is very cheap for its quality (about $15 - shipping not included) and I will gladly help you get it from the museum if you want to.

“Dear Gil,

Do you remember when we first met?

Back then, you were so small and frail that I thought I had to protect you.

But now you are older than me, you have grown much taller and your face has become cooler too.

Wow, somehow I am getting angry here. It is such a pain to look up at you, you know?

But inside, you are still the same Gil. The same crybaby, the same worrywart, the same person that cherishes me more than anyone else. Nothing has changed at all.

I was so happy.

When you went so far as to sacrifice your left arm to rush to my side.

When you told me “As long as you are Oz, it is fine.”

I bet you don’t know how much you have saved me, right?

I’m sorry I always keep you waiting.

You are my proud servant, family, friend and an irreplaceable precious existence to me.

Thank you, Gilbert.”

#pandora hearts #pandora hearts museum #pandora hearts 15th anniversary

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joeymiya · 2 years ago

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just finished the main story of regressor instruction manual, and, jesus fuck. Woah. That was. a lot. I went through almost all of the chapters in one day, hundreds. and. god. Lee Kiyoung really does just gaslight, gatekeep, girboss his way out of most of the problems he finds, doesn’t he? gods.

i am feeling a lot right now. Though not sure what. just feeling. Kiyoung is so fucking thick in the head in terms of how much he underestimates how his team would react to him sacrificing himself over and over with the added mental damage of the “reveal” that he basically has a magic terminal illness that will take all of his memories via mind degradation and weakening of his body, which isn’t real in the slightest, which is really fucking funny not going to lie about that.

Shit just snowballed and hit the fan hard in their perspective. A complete tragedy for them and lucky “wow that was a big brain plot move that i totally intended to happen and will reap the benefits(?) of” for Lee Kiyoung in terms of plot progression if we’re talking books. I will not be talking about the ending. I am-

-admittedly having a bit of a time processing it. so yeah. Also there’s. apparently more stuff after the main story????? just read them and god damn. woozers.

And that’s just the translated ones, there’s a fuck ton of it. and it’s only so far a few handful of side stories chapters, meaning you’ll have to find the raws and mtl the rest of it. which I do not have the means to, unfortunately.

I am deathly afraid of buying them in fear of getting my ass handed by my parents. I also have no idea where and how I’d fucking find the god damn raws of the released side story chapters anyway.

So, as much as my story-devouring heart wants it, the fucking barrier is a god damn pain in the ass, and my fear of using money is another, so I can’t buy the raws. I’ll pray to god that some bastard out there translates the raws for the rest of the fandom because my fucking guy, as poor as my vision is, I read fast and clear as fuck.

#joey rambling #regressor instruction manual #wow #this was a long post #probably my longest honestly

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ninjakk · 2 years ago

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This is more of fanon question but what do you think of stright boy wwx, who everyone knows he’s gay but him, doesn’t know his feelings even though he’s having sex with lwj.

And lwj still does shave sex with him even though he does think wwx is stright and won’t have feelings for him.

Hi Anon,

Wow, is this really a thing!? 🤔

I think they're reading a different book 🤣

Well my honest opinion would be that whoever thinks this really does not have much of an understanding of the characters in MDZS, or the plot for that matter. Whether this is something that some truly see in the novel or something they put in fanfic, it's just bizarre.

Firstly, only a few people made assumptions with regards to WWX's feelings towards LWJ. Really it was only the juniors who noticed something between them. JC was in denial the whole time (across both WWXs lives) until he couldn't deny it any longer - and even then he tried! Personally I think WQ noticed WWX acted differently around LWJ and at some point WN picked up on something between them as well. But bar that, most people wrongly thought the pair hated each other! So that's just wrong right from the start!

WWX is extremely emotionally intelligent, he understands people very well and that includes himself as well. Yes, he lies to himself and pushes his true feelings down at times - but this is a coping mechanism. He feels so deeply, his only way to cope about certain emotions that might bring him pain, is to play them down or convince himself they are different to what they are.

WWX is just trying to protect his heart. He lies to himself about his feelings for LWJ because to him, the latter wasn't interested. Yet WWX was still drawn towards him every time they met, because LWJ is the only one he's ever truly wanted. By the time WWX and LWJ have sex, WWX is more than sure of his feelings for LWJ! In fact just before all of this, WWX is so sure of his feelings he's absolutely terrified LWJ might not feel the same way.

So I think any idea of a fanon or fanfic WWX that is as emotionally dense as 'straight boy' WWX is, is just so far from the actual character, I don't see the point in them reading the novel, being a fan or writing fic using WWXs name if this is their take on him, as it's clearly not the character MXTX created.

As for LWJ having sex with this warped version of WWX, he simply wouldn't. As much as LWJ loves WWX, he would not have meaningless sex with him just because the latter 'doesn't mind'. Just looking at the end of chapter 95 and chapter 96, where WWX thinks LWJ has only just sobered up and is upset that they had sex. This scene should be enough to show anyone that this is not in LWJs character. WWX desperately tries to salvage their relationship because he loves LWJ so much he wants to be with him anyway he can. So he makes it out it was just something friends do! LWJ is so distraught at the possibility WWX didn't have romantic feelings for him, yet shared an extremely intimate moment with him anyway. How can anyone think he would just have sex with WWX if he thought WWX wasn't interested in him. It just wouldn't happen.

So again, I think that this fanon idea or whatever it is, is just so far from the truth it's just strange! Anyone who wants this to be canon should just go find another novel to read quite frankly!

It can take time to understand your sexuality and shaming a character who actually realised it pretty fast considering the circumstances, is just shallow and ironically makes them the "oblivious" ones they so often like to accuse WWX of being. It's obvious WWX would have realised his sexuality a lot sooner if LWJ had given him a little hint back when they were teens. Which isn't LWJ's fault of course, because people seem to forget he was coming to terms with his own feelings at the time as well! But if he'd given WWX a sign, he'd have been spurred on and pursued LWJ until they were a couple.

In WWX's own words:

"...If he doesn’t want me, I’ll bother him to the point that he does.”

Chapter 125 - Lotus Seed Pod extra, ExR

Although he wasn't fully prepared to accept what context the above proclamation was in, he still meant it! 🥰

I'm guessing you feel the same way about this obnoxious interpretation as well Anon, since you used the term fanon 😉 so that's a relief! Have a lovely day and enjoy the canon version of WWX and LWJ in all their true glory ❤️

#mdzs #mo dao zu shi #wangxian #wei wuxian #lan wangji #mdzs novel #anon ask #answered ask

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notnctu · 4 years ago

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push & pull | kim doyoung

❀ slytherin!doyoung x hufflepuff!femreader ❀ genre - SLOW BURN, smut, fluff, a bit of humor (idk not rlly) ❀ details - hogwarts!au, fwb to lovers?, y/n is a player lol, jealous doyoung, mutual pining, doyoung is a lil mean ❀ word count - 9.7k ❀ warnings - explicit language, possessiveness (a concept of marking), dom!doyoung, angry sex?, slight dirty talk, penetration, fingering, praise kink ❀ synopsis - in which a prideful slytherin and an oblivious hufflepuff play a clueless emotion game of tug of war.

❝I thought Hufflepuffs are to be loyal, so why do you sleep with other men?❞

❝People say Slytherins are ambitious, so why didn’t you pursue me?❞ ❀ a/n - i changed the plot a little bit as i was writing lol but hopefully it still fits everything! i said this in the teaser, but i want to preface and say that the magic/marking is not canon to harry potter, and that the only thing im using are the sectional houses/subjects. besides that, everything is made up LMAO also pls b lenient with me, i read hogwarts!au but writing it is very out of my comfort zone and am very bad at creating anything magical

READ NEXT PART

Kim Doyoung, the Slytherin boy of your dreams, mindlessly and imperfectly steals glances your way across the dining tables and under several hundred floating lit candles. He sits huddled with his few posh friends that wear the same green and silver tie situated so tightly underneath their necks. And you, just looking as dazzling as ever, with your yellow and black tie hanging loose and a few buttons undone from your dress shirt.

He hates how easily you catch his attention and his ability to spot your figure in a dense crowd. You barely even look his way in public now, often distracted by a broad Gryffindor that tries to make flirtatious advantages at you. And when he thinks it can’t get any worse, it does… as you’re flashing your bright beautiful smile back at him and the shift in your body language.

“You’re staring again.” Yuta flickers between his friend and the subject of his focus.

Doyoung clears his throat, smooths his tie and physically turns his body away from the horrendous scene. “It’s very hard not to stare when she’s flirting with other men in front of me.”

“Does she do it on purpose?” The silver haired boy raises a questionable eyebrow and Doyoung reacts before he can speak.

He perks up and narrows his eyes at Yuta. “Purpose? Like to make me jealous?” Doyoung scoffs, laughs almost at the ridiculous thought. “The answer is no. We’re not exclusive, we’re nothing.”

“If you two are nothing, then why are you acting like you two are something? Get a grip, it’s practically sickening watching you fume over a ditzy Hufflepuff.” As Yuta prepares to bite into his delicious soft bread roll, it flies out of his grip, down the long table and onto another person’s plate.

Both boys are quick to stand to their feet and face each other chest to chest. Neither one of them is intimidated by the other, but their other friends around them are rather shocked by the sudden discrepancy.

Doyoung forcibly brushes off an imaginary dust off his good friend’s shoulders and draws a perfectly strained fake smile, knowing that others may be watching and he is a Prefect after all. But most importantly, you could be watching. “Call her that again, and your dinner won’t be the only thing that’s thrown across the table.” His threat is loud enough solely for Yuta to hear.

Yuta, with glaring eyes, picks up his dinner tray and walks off with his chin held high and a brisk in his stride. Doyoung clears his throat in the midst of the brief silence and out of habit, fixes his tie back in place. He takes a seat back down and the chatter at the table resumes, but he’s beyond embarrassed and disappointed at his loss of temper that everything drowns out.

Almost everything. He feels a light tap on his shoulder and out of annoyance, he spins around hastily and sharply snarls, “what?” But his eyes land on your fearful wide eyes and the slight cower in your stance, knowing that you caught onto his bad mood. And he’s half in disbelief that you’re approaching him right in the center of the Great Hall, that you’re standing so beautiful a foot away from him.

Instant regret and guilt fills his chest, his sharp eyes soften at your pout and the concerned furrow in between your brows. Nonetheless, he doesn’t have any words to say… he can’t get himself to apologize for his behavior.

“Do you want to walk to Herbology with me?” The quiver in your voice made you seem so small, so desperate for him, that he can hear the reactions of his friends. They’re laughing, at him, at you, at the whole scene that’s unfolding. He feels mocked, being a laughing stock isn’t something he’s very fond of.

His lips form a tight line, and in a snarky tone, “you don’t know your own way, Puff? Mind you ask your own Prefect to guide you.” Fuck. He tried to find the nicest way possible to brush you off, but his friends laugh a bit louder and intensely. And you didn’t like that one bit.

Your lips part slightly in a frown, an eyebrow raised and a hand on your hip. You look as if you’re ready to attack him, to jinx him, to probably pinch at his skin. But he knows you, and you’d do none of the above. Instead, you say the one threat that causes his heart to sink into the pit of his stomach, “don’t talk to me in class.” You’re slipping away from him as you pick up your pace, exiting all the commotion in the Great Hall.

He tries to hide the disappointment that stems from his chest, and his heart beats with an inexplicable dull pain. All he can think about is the twist of your expression and he’s gathering his things rather quickly to follow after you, without even a bid goodbye to his clique.

Without any knowledge of what you two do behind closed doors and the complex history that you two share, one may view your relationship as practically nonexistent; you two are strangers, barely passing acquaintances.

Doyoung does not approach you in the halls, in anywhere that necessarily has many witnesses. You smile at him, maybe even a wave depending on your mood, but no one questions it … as you wave at almost everyone who passes by you.

Classmates might see interaction during the one class you two share, if they pay attention close enough. However, you and Doyoung are much more to each other than passing acquaintances. Although he’s starting to see himself as another name on your list of individuals you sleep with, you are much more to him than you could ever know.

He’ll never forget the first time you two met. He was patrolling the halls for anyone lurking past curfew with his nose dug deep in his heavy book on magical creatures, when you walked right into him and caused the both of you to fall to the granite.

He was beyond ready to dock off points for whoever the rule breaker may be, but you took his breath away when you hovered above him and clasped your palm over his mouth before he can scold anyone. You looked a bit frazzled as your hair was all over the place and he noticed your minimal amount of clothing in the middle of a cold winter night.

He saw the signature Hufflepuff badge on your thin sweater and the sound of your voice completely threw him off his tracks.

“I’m so sorry.” You whisper at the stunned Prefect underneath you, whose body feels warm against your own. But your eyes remain frantically on the lookout for anyone else passing, despite the lack of light in the cobblestone hallway. You most definitely do not belong in this wing of the castle and knocking down a Prefect caused more of a problem in your escape route.

Quickly standing up, you lend your hand out for him to take. His long fingers accept your hold as he pulls himself up and dusts the dirt off his robe. His green emblem glows in the dim light and you’re internally screaming at the mess you just made for yourself. But you recognize his features: the sharpness in his eyes, the small curves of the corners of his lips, his neatly parted black hair.

“You’re in some deep---”

“---Kim Doyoung.” The boy freezes at the sound of his name and he blinks at you, curious as to where you know of him. Being a Prefect has its small perks of popularity, but he didn’t expect for it to go this far. “Y/N, we had brooms together.”

As he repeats your name and examines your pretty features, a light bulb goes off in his head. “The clumsy Hufflepuff that fell off her broom in the highest altitude?”

“If that’s how you remember me by.” You smile proudly, and he scoffs at how someone could possibly hold pride in something so silly. “It’s nice to see you around, you’re a Prefect! Wow! That’s incredible.”

“And you’re still as clumsy as you were a year ago. Falling all over the place.”

“Unfortunately, some things don’t change! But you certainly have.” Doyoung looks at you with hooded eyes and a cautious gaze, but you’re so outlandishly bold despite swaying with your hands behind your back. “Please, don’t take that the wrong way. I meant it as a compliment! I used to have a tiny crush on you, baseless, but you helped me catch my broomstick and I’ll never be able to forget that.”

Doyoung, unknowingly, lights up at your shameless confession and takes another good look at you. You're much more mature now, and if he stared into your alluring gaze any longer, he’d be completely mesmerized without the need of a love potion. “So you liked me over a meaningless chivalrous act?”

“I liked you because you were charming and yes, perhaps I am someone who finds attractiveness in men who are chivalrous. There’s nothing wrong with that.” You bat your sweet eyelashes at him so endearingly, and he’s a blushing mess all over the place.

Doyoung has had anonymous love letters passed on from his friends, but they were all Slytherins who yearned greedily to be associated with his status. So knowing that a Hufflepuff, with an innocent youthful approach to love, festered some form of infatuation with him does flatter him quite well. “I’ll let you go.”

You’re about to exhale an exasperated sigh of relief until Doyoung continues, “under one condition.”

“Okay, I’ll do anything.” Your gleaming eyes sparkle like stars paired with the night sky.

He rolls his eyes at you, “don’t be so quick to jump at conditions without hearing them first.” Doyoung groans and you passively brush off his comment.

“If it’s harmless, I’ll do it.”

And in the dead of the night, where only you two stand in the middle of an empty cobblestone hallway, Doyoung requests, “I want to see you again.”

Although that night marked the beginning of your friendship, public interactions were still scarce and this was mainly on the fault of Doyoung. The times you met were late nights past curfew where he was stationed at and he grew to enjoy your wondrous personality. This boy grew up in a Slytherin bubble his whole life, no one outside of his house ever dared approached him … at least, not with the warmest smile as yours.

You were everything he was not, but he liked it so much. You were a half that completed his whole, and there were growing pains he couldn’t confide in anyone else. Surprisingly, you knew his imperfections more than he did himself and yet, you still wanted to be around him to encourage him. Not to mention, you had a sudden growth in other parts of your body and formed into your features very beautifully.

He wasn’t the only one who noticed, as there were more male counterparts who smiled at you, talked about you, fawned over you. And he felt something heighten inside of him along with his existing romantic feelings, and that he began seeing you in a new light.

With you experiencing new things, like hand holding and being showered by love letters on Valentine’s Day, it was wrong of him to fester such envy over the ones who publicly adorned you. He was so blinded by his hot headed rage that he completely missed the fact that you never accepted anyone who confessed, maybe the hand holding, but everyone else was a complete rejection.

All this time, you had been waiting for him and when you two shared your first kiss together, you had an assumption that Doyoung was going to finally confess that he felt the same way. But he never did. You two did, however, further your relationship into something more intimate and taking each other’s virginities opened a whole pathway of possibilities --- none being one where you two end up officially together.

He was the first to sleep with someone else, that was his first of many mistakes that he was going to make in his relationship with you. It also became the drop of the needle for you to start seeing other people as well, to explore what Doyoung couldn’t offer, to rid yourself of the feelings you had for a boy that didn’t seem like he wanted anything more.

Chivalry was dead and Doyoung believed that the innocent youthful Hufflepuff love had disappeared from within you.

As his present day runs after you, you’re abruptly stopped by a Ravenclaw for a small chat. Damn you Hufflepuffs for being friendly and social. So, he rushes past the two of you and into the classroom to await for your arrival. The quick shade of green flashes by your side and you’re fuming incredibly at how Doyoung continues to play you like a harp.

When you slide into your assigned seat next to him, he goes off like a canon. Doyoung starts spewing backhanded excuses and endless shameless rambles about his behavior. “I told you. Don’t talk to me during class or I will jinx you. Won’t be able to talk with your tongue stuck to the roof of your mouth.”

“You’re not going to jinx me.” With a subtle flick of his wrist, your chair is pulled closer to his. “And if you were to do so, you wouldn’t do something so cynical.” Yelping at the abrupt usage of his magic, you’re irritably pressing your ink into your journal with a newfound annoyance.

“You’re right. I’d turn you into a duck, so at least, you’re still cute to look at.” The mindless scribbles on the paper make no sense in your head, as you’re primarily zoned in on the disrupted energy you have about your Slytherin companion. These ill feelings make you almost sick, wanting to shut out any bad replay of the moments before and forgetting about the attention you seek so much from Doyoung.

“For you to successfully cast a jinx on me, you must make eye contact first.” His finger lifts your chin and you’re eye to eye with his lustful dark stare. Doyoung licks his lips, a shine shimmers from his saliva, and he’s tempted to bring you into his chambers for an intimacy he’s been craving. “My, oh my. You’re looking very charmed today.” A grin curves up and taunts you, and you’re blinking away down at the table.

“Doyoung, we’re in class. Please, focus.” Your desperate whisper turns into a whine once his cold hand slyly smooths over your bare knee.

“Are you free later tonight?” Doyoung peers over at your side profile and your skin feels soft at his fingertips. He’s imagining your intoxicating scent mixing with his sheets, your light playful kisses along his neck, and gripping onto every naked part of you. For a whole minute, he’s forgotten that he’s in class with other no name individuals and a boring professor. He has tunnel vision whenever he’s with you.

“I have an arrangement.” The grip on your knee tightens at your quiet answer. An arrangement.

“The Gryffindor who had leafy greens in between his teeth?” Doyoung treads lightly, because you’re both well aware he’s made harsher insults than that. He retrieves his hand and picks up his pen as if he’s never touched you.

He sees your head shake out of the corner of his eye, you’re rolling your lips together sheepishly. There’s something odd about your stance and he’s growing a bit more curious…. A bit more spiteful at how closed off you are being. There’s something you’re hiding from him. “Then, who?”

“Is there something you’d like to discuss with the class, Mr. Kim? If not, I’d like for everyone to head over to the greenhouse.” As the class slightly snickers and the classroom empties, you and Doyoung are stopped by your professor.

Professor Sprout, wearing her worn out Dragon hide gloves and a thin lined smile, shoves a potted plant into Doyoung’s hands, “behave, you two. Your conversations are never very secret when spoken aloud.” She gives both of you a warning before proceeding out along with the rest of the class.

Doyoung scoffs at the absurd encounter and rolls his eyes. “Ah, you’re getting me in trouble with you now.”

“I’m sorry, Doyoung. It’s better that you don’t know.” You say this every time, when will you realize that keeping your hookups a secret only causes him more agony? He catches your wrist as you both exit the corridors, he barely ever has you alone now. And to say the least, he fucking misses you.

“Spare me some of your time after class.” He’s disgusted by himself, knowing that his eyes are begging for you to say yes. Him, a highly admired Slytherin, has settled for scraps and if anyone knew, they’d never let him live.

Your hand gently clasps over his and when you look up with your starry eyes, something inside him feels at peace. “Did you miss me?” He gulps at your question and blinks at you like a deer in headlights. If said by anyone else, he would not hesitate to snap his fingers into a malicious spell. But you ask the million dollar question so sweetly, there’s no taunt… there’s no mockery in your tone. It’s full of genuine curiosity.

So, he answers you with part of his heart that you know too well. “Unfortunately.” His body falls slightly in defeat, and suddenly the potted plant is alive in his hands. It’s wailing a dangerous and annoying loud cry, completely ruining the moment.

Doyoung quizzically ponders the monstrous green plant and its magical capabilities puzzle him, possibly reminding him to pay more attention to the actual curriculum than on your unbuttoned shirt.

Moreover, your giggle surprisingly calms him in this stressful situation and you lightly pat his hand that’s still gripping your wrist. “I’m all yours after class.”

Taking the wretched plant, you hurry off toward the greenhouse to find someone to diffuse the crying creature. Doyoung laughs in disbelief at your comical animated figure running around with a pot over your head and shouting for any student to help you. So you’re not paying attention in class either?

Doyoung takes you to your favorite place, despite the rule that you’re not allowed access to it. The Prefect Bathroom remains spotlessly clean and fresh paired with an immediate scent of rosewater and wild honeysuckle. The white polished marble gleams prettily under the twinkling diamond chandeliers and you’re twirling enthusiastically in the center of the large undressing area.

He observes and smiles widely to himself at the sight of your happiness and cute giggles. It’s always a risk to have you use their bathroom, but he is always abusing his privilege to seek your enjoyment that he truly doesn’t care about anything else. Your morality has beaten him enough and he’s heard plenty about his wrongdoings, yet here you are… sweetly dancing in the one place that’s absolutely wrong. Perhaps, you two have rubbed off a little too much on one another.

“I can never get sick of this place.” As you plead to Doyoung to cast a bubble bath, you’re already stripping out of your skirt. He shields his eyes to give you some privacy and recites the charm to run hot dazzling water in the ginormous pool. A nice soothing bath is exactly what you two need after a stressful day playing in the dirt.

“This is your favorite place.” says Doyoung with a matter of fact edge to this tone.

“It’s my favorite place because I only get to come here with you.” You jump on his back and he hoists you up by your thighs. His heart skips a happy tune. “I refuse for you to tell me the password, even if you do wish for me to enjoy the simple pleasures of a bubble bath.”

“You and your right and wrongs.” With eager hands, you’re loosening his tie from around his neck. “You stripped so fast that you’re going to get a cold.”

“It’s going to get steamy really soon. Plus, I know you like me best without any clothes on.” Your hot breath tickles the shell of his ear and a blush scatters across Doyoung’s cheek. Button after button, his open shirt exposes his toned build. He sets you on the edge of the elevated step before the bath.

Doyoung smirks at your nakedness and your hot lustful expression. Leaning in until he’s practically breathing against your lips, he stares straight into your eyes. “My Puff knows me best.” And dives into you with all his soul. Fruitful drags of his lips along yours, his long tongue enters your mouth. His large hand carefully caresses your cheek to pull you further into the kiss, noses pressing into skin and with a desire to never part.

His heart swells lovingly, kissing you feels like the best thing in the world. There are no tricks, no spells, no recited charms, but you are more than magical. The same surge of energy runs through his veins, but unlike his impressive ability as a notable wizard, he can’t control it. You make him lose control. As meticulous and cautious as he is, you’re the first thing he doesn’t think through.

Your needy hands push off his dress shirt and he hurriedly unbuckles his belt. When you break the kiss, he automatically pouts and pulls you back in for one more lingering peck. “Are you going to scrub my back for me?” You smile, dragging him closer to the overflowing bathtub.

Large puffs of white bubbles spill from the rims and disappear with your every step. It reminds you of sea foam that washes upon the shore, with a floral fragrant that fills your lungs. “That’s quite an intimate gesture, but yes.”

After removing all his garments, he joins you in the large pool of glossy bubbles and the clouds of steam that rises from the water suffocates him warmly. He sits with his back against the wall and eyes unwavering on your alluring expression.

The bubbles do a great job at covering your breasts, but his sneaky hands snake under the water to grip them. Doyoung grabs a full tit and thumbs over your erect nipple, all while he holds the most sensual gaze with you. Slowly, you naturally end up in his hold and your wet back relaxes against his chest.

The beating of his heart is too loud and surely, you can feel the way it jumps out of his chest. Doyoung attaches his lips on your skin and as you’re melting at his harsh suckling. However, you perk up and snap out of your dazed arousal at the realization of his purposeful licks. “You’re trying to mark me?”

His hand continues to rub and twist your aching nipples. The sensation stimulating the growth of pleasure to sprout below and your mind to wander.

“Possibly.”

A lovers’ mark is the ultimate testament of mutual love. Engraving the skin with your beloved’s Patronus, wherever the giver chooses to mark. Love emblems are meant to be something sacred to the couple, a way to make someone completely untouchable to everyone else. Not only does the symbol glow with an iridescent shine whenever love is felt, it also numbs any romantic feelings for all others besides the partner.

Besides the use of possessiveness, it’s a beautiful way to discover one true love since the engraving of their Patronus shows up on the skin under the conditions that both individuals must be madly in love with one another. And if it doesn’t end up forming, the receiver is left with a bright, sparkling star hue in its place before fading away completely. If it does appear, it fades when both fall out of love.

“Doyoung--” His name falls from your lips as a moan and he’s running down to explore the beauty between your legs. “--can’t do that unless you actually want to commit to me.”

“I am committed to you.” The more your neck cranes off to the side and exposed to him, the more he wishes to etch the symbol of his love for everyone to see. A hand is hooked under your thigh to keep your legs spread open and you’re gasping at the slight pressure from the water.

“Romantically committed to me.” You remind him, but your train of thought is cut fairly short as Doyoung begins rubbing circles on your needy clit.

“You’re afraid of it showing up?” He’s lathering your breasts with bubbles and dragging his long finger along your slit. His greediness overtakes him and with wandering hands, he’s gripping every part of you that they can reach. Doyoung’s guilty pleasure is always going to any form of physical affection from you specifically. When he finally gets ahold of you, it’s hard for him to let go.

Your warm skin is delicate and smooth beneath the very tips of his fingers and every exploration of your terrain makes him feel inexplicable explosions of fondness. Perhaps, you’ve captivated him and although he believed it would take something as extreme as the Amortentia to have him falling for someone, you did it as easily as being yourself. His better half.

So, he’s impressed by your genuineness and how he’s willing to give up parts of his reputation to unapologetically be himself around you. No one else matters, nothing else matters, but why must it be so difficult to tell you that?

“I’m afraid of it not showing up.” You’re more than convinced that Doyoung has confused his strong sense of lust with love and there would be no possible way his Patronus would appear. It’s better to save the embarrassment for the both of you.

Spinning in his arms, the water twirls to the curves of your body and he’s admiring parts that expose above the surface. He’s matched with your beauty before him, resemblance to the stained glass window that situates above the large bathroom.

However, the doubt in your statement finally reaches his ears and he’s grabbing your ass as you settle over his thighs again. His furrowed eyebrows bring together a rather upset expression --- lip pout and all.

“Why wouldn’t it show up?” Doyoung puzzles, bringing your arms to wrap around his neck. Leaning into him, your pruney fingers trace his smooth chin and he notices your quick flicker between his eyes and his lips.

While your gentle kiss reassures him of your subtle endearment, your next words do the opposite. “You tell me.” All you do is push him away with your vague doubtfulness, like you’re constantly testing him and using his poor guessing skills to your own advantage. He can pull you close after any altercation he wants, but you push him away in any emotionally romantic sense.

“You’re rather mischievous and mysterious today,” Doyoung squeezes your ass and smacks it lightly, causing ripples in the water. “I liked it better when you told me everything you felt.”

Suddenly, his fingers poke at your entrance and his other hand drops in between your legs again. Your mouth opens in shock when his long fingers enter slowly and he enjoys the pleasurable contour of your reactions. “Like this, for example.” The pad of his fingers working rapid flicks against your sensitive bud. “How does this feel?” His whisper dances across your shoulder, landing a kiss at the end of his question.

Your moans echo in the lavish bathroom, bouncing off the marble walls and encouraging Doyoung to keep a steady pace. There’s no worry about how loud you may be, Doyoung charms every room before every lustful encounter. This allows you to let go, let free, let him know how he makes you feel.

He curves his fingers into you, pumping and dragging into your tightness until you’re practically screaming. He only has one thought, as his eyes trail down your intoxicated needy figure, how beautiful you are as a moaning mess under his control. Your head is thrown back, eyes are squeezed shut and opening them to see nothing but tiny yellow starlight.

Dainty kisses line your exposed neck line and his ego swells with so much pride. Doyoung has mastered every flick of his wrist to have you under his trance, spewing nonsensical words and forgetting anyone else that exists. He gives your erect nipples harsh licks and with a faint drag of teeth, the sensation pushes you to your end.

Sporadic pleasurable convulsions cause your legs to close around Doyoung’s hands, but the strength of his knee keeps them apart. “Doyoung… I’m going to free fall.”

Leave it up to you to beautifully announce your climax. He snickers, applying more pressure on your clit and a rubbing motion against your walls. “I’ll catch you.”

Moon crescents embed into his skin as you’re holding onto him with your whole life. As your scream hits every octave, the massive collection of bubbles that cover the surface of the bath fly and splatter every corner of the pristine room.

White and wet bubbles drip down from the walls, falling from the diamond chandeliers, and coating every steamy mirror. Doyoung’s eyes light up from the chaos, making sure you’re riding out your high for as long as he can provide.

Your body trembles with euphoria, falling forward into Doyoung’s chest and squeezing around his lazily pumping fingers. For a brief second, your mind is wiped and nothing in the world feels better than being in this perfect moment with the one person who’s Patronus you hoped would etch your skin.

If one possesses feelings that are practically unbearable to contain, one should confess… right? For all your life, you’ve lived by this statement. Friends do not hear the end of it and most surely, one should follow their own advice… right?

So why do you yearn for Doyoung in your gaze as he stands across the Great Hall as if he doesn’t know of your existence? As if he wasn’t kissing you in the Prefect bathroom a few days prior?

It’s not an understatement to say that you catch the attention of almost every person in the room, but the one head that refuses to turn your way… the one who’s looks you wish to steal… is the one person who looks right through you.

Feelings have become a nuisance ever since the first time you confessed to him and it was worse than landing on cobblestone after falling off your broom. The reason why you’ve buried them deeper than any chamber is that you’re positive that the prized Slytherin would rather be with another, preferably one from his own house.

While you try to remain optimistic and playful for the time being, you’re simply replaceable to him. He can barely care to acknowledge you in public when Gryffindors boast about you in their arms like winning a trophy. You’ve kept good relations with every Ravenclaw you’ve slept with. You’ve kindly rejected every romantic gesture another Hufflepuff has offered.

But if there is one thing you’ve learned about him is that he’s lived in his Slytherin circle for as long as he lives. And it will stay that way. You’re his sweet Hufflepuff that he’ll push away at no cost, then pull you back in secrecy.

Now if one feels as if they’re wasting their time, one should leave… right? Wrong. Kim Doyoung has skewed with your morality… and your feelings remain loyal to him since the day he confessed to see you again.

“Lemon-drop, I’ve been looking all over for you.” An arm slings around your shoulders and the notable red and gold tie is the first thing you see. Jung Jaehyun, Captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch team, flashes his deep dimples at you. “Walk with me.”

He extends his palm out for you to take and your friends painfully elbow your sides to wake you from your hesitation. Taking his hand, you get up from the dining table and follow him out the Great Hall.

Doyoung sees the scene unfold before him and rolls his eyes at how Jaehyun’s dimples are all it takes to have you wandering off with him. Despite every wicked intent to follow you two, he heads out in the direction of the dormitories to fume in his room.

“It’s such a nice and sunny day today.” Jaehyun runs a hand through his luscious brown locks. You both exit into the front courtyard as other students are scattered on the lawns mingling with one another. When you peer up at the sky, the sun is barely seen past the layers of clouds.

“Jaehyun, is there something you needed to speak with me about?” His laughter roars, full of hefty song and amusement.

“Listen, lemon-drop. I like you and I have a feeling you feel the same way. I want to mark you if you’d let me.” Jaehyun smirks and just as he brings your hand up for a kiss, you gently let go. “Am I coming off too strong? We don’t have to do it today, I just wanted to see if it would show.”

“Jaehyun, you’re going to find an extravagant person one day. A person who is going to know all your favorite castle balconies to swing from and how you like to be kissed on the nose.” His ears grow a bright red and for once, his gaze drops to the ground. “I am, unfortunately, not that person for you so I must kindly reject your confession.”

As you turn on your toes, Jaehyun lightly holds your wrist to stop you. “But, you know all those things about me. Is there anything I can do to prove that we belong together?”

“I know them because I care enough to remember things you tell me, not because I loved you enough to observe these things about you. I give you my word that there is nothing you can do to prove me otherwise.” The corners of his lips dip downward and you’re running to the one person that will erase this sad rejection from your memory.

When you’re scanning the Great Hall for any sign of him, he’s not there and it leads you to his only hiding place. Doyoung loves to shut himself out from the rest of the school whenever he gets the chance. However, a lost Hufflepuff wandering outside the entrance of the Slytherin dormitories is rather an odd sight to see and you haven’t had the chance to form many connections from this house.

The sparse amount of Slytherins you know aren’t going to be passing by, unless with some stroke of luck, someone will be kind enough to open the door for you. Every person passes by you with questionable stares until a silver haired boy blinks at you with wide eyes.

“Who is it that you’re trying to see?” He asks abrasively, but softens his tone when he realizes that you mean no harm.

You bid him a small grin, “your Prefect.”

“And what for?”

“There is an urgent matter that involves him and he’s practically unreachable when he’s hiding away in his private room.” The boy narrows his eyes at you, but beckons you to follow him down to the Slytherin dungeon.

Excitedly, you hurry behind him and whisper over his shoulder, “what’s your name?”

“Nakamoto Yuta. No need to tell me yours, I’ll doubt he’d want me to know.” He spits and then, mutters the enchanted password to reveal the large green common room. “Come this way.” He leads up the boys’ dorms and walks briskly. Although you never mentioned a name, Yuta seems to already know who you’re here to see and it makes you wonder how he must know.

“Open up.” Yuta stops and knocks at the wooden door, Kim Doyoung written in a fancy penmanship on the center. “You have a guest.” He looks your way before rolling his eyes at Doyoung’s irritated tone through the other side.

“Tell them to leave.”

“He wants you to leave.” Yuta repeats, mostly to satisfy Doyoung’s nag.

“That’s fine. Thank you for bring---” The door swings open abruptly and Yuta almost loses his balance. Doyoung frantically turns his head side to side to comprehend what he is seeing. His ears felt deceived, hearing your voice through the door, he had to make sure it wasn’t you.

But you stand before him and Yuta. Here you are approaching him whenever he least expects it. “What are you doing here?”

“I came by to see you. I’ve been here plenty of times.”

“What are you doing bringing her in?” scolds Doyoung and the other boy shrugs carelessly.

“What was I supposed to do? Let her bat puppy eyes at several other Slytherins and have her telling everyone who passes her that she came here to see our Prefect? It was also getting cold out.” Yuta mumbles, but finds great entertainment at seeing how frazzled Doyoung has gotten by your presence.

“It was a bit chilly.” You admit and Doyoung groans, pulling you into his room and shutting the door on Yuta. “Thank you, Yuta.” You whisper through the crack between the door frame.

“It’s too risky for you to be searching for me around other Slytherins.” Doyoung paces the room and you notice his tie is loose and shirt is unbuttoned around his neck. “Why are you here?”

“A Gryffindor blew me off. I thought I’d come and see you with all the free time I can get.” Taking a seat at the end of his neatly made bed, your legs swing adorably and Doyoung almost doesn’t hear you.

“Jaehyun? Does he think he’s too good for you or something? That cocky dimple Gryffindor, with the draw of my wand---” Doyoung whips out his intricately customized Dragon Heartstring, and you’re on your feet to calm his temper down.

“Will you put that thing away? I’m here for you.” Your giggle warms his tight chest and puts out the fueling flame for anyone who dares to hurt you in any way. “It’s not a big deal and it’s not the first time it has happened.”

Doyoung uncomfortably clears his throat and withdraws his wand. Buttoning up his shirt, he fixes his tie back in place. To say the least, your words erupted his festering jealousy and this may have been a small tipping point.

Before you had entered, he was so frustrated with himself and you. You can just walk away with another man without a second thought, in front of him too. He remembered the soft feeling of your body and how he’s not the only one who’s needy hands ran their course over you. That may be the one pain he can never get rid of.

“I never understood why you give other men the time of your day when they just brush you off undeservingly.” He stings and you’re slightly surprised at his sudden attack. When you respond in silence, he continues.“I thought Hufflepuffs are to be loyal, so why do you sleep with other men?”

Crossing your arms, your weight is barred on your left leg and there is a shift in your overall mood. With an eyebrow raised, you sass him back, “People say Slytherins are ambitious, so why didn’t you chase after me?”

Doyoung swallows hard and blinks at you speechless. A clammy hand runs through his black strands as he tries to find any possible explanation without confessing his feelings. If he had a plan to confess, it would never be in the middle of an inquisition with you.

“I guess you didn’t think before acting on your desires.” And how he hated how correct that statement is. He doesn’t ever think whenever he’s around you. All his actions are conducted with his emotions and the feelings that overtake him.

Doyoung scoffs, rolling his eyes at your rash comment. “Aren’t you supposed to have the strongest morality among all the houses?”

“Sleeping with multiple men isn’t morally wrong. There’s nothing wrong with it…” The slight hurt from his question is difficult to ignore, but you must remember one thing if you want to protect your heart on your sleeve. This is nothing serious to be bickering over. You two aren’t anything serious, so why feel the need to squabble over nonsense? “... it would only be wrong if someone liked me and wished to commit to me.”

Your eyes meet and Doyoung blinks at you with wide eyes. His Adam’s Apple bobs as he gulps again, completely whiplashed at how the conversation has turned. “And if that’s the case and you like me, would that make you jealous, Doyoung? That’s why you’re trying to poorly attack my character?” He’s never heard such a strong taunt in your tone and he’s baffled by it, slightly aroused, but shocked.

“I don’t like you.” His voice is small and he pouts his lips at you. Doyoung crosses his arms and perhaps, his sad expression reveals a little more than it should have. Your heart softens at his ridiculously cute response, had you expected something much more angry and vindictive.

“Then this conversation is over, right? I’ll be on my way now. I have herbology.”

“We have the same class.” He grumbles, grabbing his robe from his desk chair.

You open the door to make your exit, “but since you don’t want to be seen with a Hufflepuff, I’ll go ahead first.” When you stumble out into the hallway, a recognizable face brightens at your appearance.

“Haechan! Hello, I haven’t seen you in a while.” You’re cheering and Doyoung chews the inside of his cheek. His pride is left at the door and along with all the things that hold him back from you, he doesn’t want to push you away anymore.

“My favorite Hufflepuff, are you just leaving?” Haechan walks up to open his arms, wishing to embrace you in the longest hug. However, Doyoung quickly takes you by your hand and rushes past him.

“She came to walk with me to class. Bye Haechan.” And Haechan is left standing in the middle of the hallway, confused and watching your backs as you’re both briskly walking out the common room.

Doyoung looks back at you, “you think I’m going to let you walk out of my room and have another Slytherin walk you to class? Don’t be so foolish.”

But you are foolish. Your heart beats foolishly and loudly for Kim Doyoung. And may you be foolish enough to wonder if his heart does the same for you.

And it does. Foolishly. Loudly. Lovingly.

You both wonder if this vicious cycle will ever meet its end. Doyoung pushes you away by ignoring your existing relationship, but pulls you back into his embrace as if it never happened. You push him away by running off with other men, but come back to him as if he’s the one person you’re loyal to.

But on this particular night, after mass circulation of rumors reaches the ears of the lovesick Slytherin, Doyoung is pulling you away from your huddled group of friends in the middle of the long corridor hallways. Without any greeting, any spoken words, he’s dragging you to his room right in front of everyone to see. His hand around yours like it was two days prior, but with an expression so grave on his sullen face.

The silence between you two brings no comfort, but you don’t dare say the first words. Doyoung, finally, approached you first in public and it is possibly for a greater reason. Perhaps you’ve done something horribly wrong, and the moment you two step into his room that you’ll hear a mouthful.

However when he closes the door to his room, your hand immediately drops from his embrace and he turns to face you. There is a darkness in his eyes, one that light cannot touch, and his lips are tight in a line.

There is an eerie silence that fills the dark room and the murky windows paint the area an ominous green. Doyoung focuses on your confused, yet adorable expression. “Why did you lie to me?”

The door catches your slight stumble and you’re blinking cluelessly at him. “About what?”

“Jaehyun.” He breathes the name in spite and aggressively loosens his tie. “He didn’t blow you off. You rejected him and he’s telling everyone it's because you’re in love with someone else.”

You scorn at such a ridiculous rumor and for the fact that it’s even made its way around to Doyoung. Another realization hits you. All it took for him to approach you in public is a meaningless rumor.

So in response, you laugh and it mocks him further. “This is not a laughing matter, y/n.”

“I’m sorry, but why are you so upset at that? Fine. I did lie to you, but I never told Jaehyun I was in love with anyone else.”

“Are you in love with someone else?” Doyoung says with balled fists at his side. There is a mixture of anger and sadness running through his veins and he’s so sick of feeling this way.

Your hesitation speaks for you, “It’s better that you don’t know.”

“You say this every time and it does nothing to ease my conscience.” Doyoung throws his hands in the air and stares at you with sharp eyes. “Is that why you were afraid that my emblem wouldn’t show up? Because your heart belongs to another. Yeah, I heard Jaehyun wanted to mark you too.”

Men and their constant want to prove something to themselves with their marks. Everyone has a twisted reality of markings now. There have been many others who have tried to mark you, feeling as if lust would be enough to suffice its appearance. As one's Patronus is special to their own protection, a beloved’s Patronus mark holds the same value.

You’re quite at a loss for words, “I was afraid that it wouldn’t show up, not because of myself, but because of you.”

Doyoung points at himself in disbelief. Him? He loves you more than anyone he’s ever encountered, even if you didn’t know it. “I wouldn’t have almost tried it if I wasn’t sure of myself.”

“You don’t love me, Doyoung. I don’t even know if I can even say you romantically like me.” Those words hurt the both of you and it lingers in the room for longer than you’d like.

“Do you think I fuck you meaninglessly like all those other losers you sleep with?” Doyoung steps forward, pulling you into his chest and admiring everything he’s fallen in love with. A pain spreads across his heart as he thinks of you with another person, of someone else kissing you, of someone else making you happy.

“You really don’t feel it in the way I kiss you?” He asks once more and your own stare drops to his shoulder, a bit ashamed to maintain eye contact with such pained eyes.

“And if I did? How would you explain that? That you are actually in love with me?” Your questions pelt him like rocks. As he pushes you on his bed, you pull him down with his tie.

Doyoung drinks you up like fresh water, a crisp and refreshing love that encourages him to reach heights. His hand cups your face and his feather touches reminds you of his gentleness. Your lips taste like sweet honey, dripping and coating him with a sticky sugar.

He’s happier with you and he’s the happiest kissing you. Perhaps, it’s hard for him to express with words, but he’d always hope his actions speak louder. So, his lips press against yours with a whirl of passion and every good feeling that grows in his chest.

The collar of his shirt is wrinkled in your fist and you’re holding him as if you’re afraid of him letting go. Doyoung runs a hand down your torso and lifts the end of your skirt up. A warm hand pushes your legs apart and a finger presses your clit through your cotton panties.

Your mouth opens into a moan and he takes this opportunity to shove his long tongue inside, lapping with your own. As a wet spot forms on your panties, he pulls them to the side and gathers the slick to gently rub your erect clit. His name is lost and muffled in the kiss, but you tap at his chest.

When he breaks away and halts all movement, he looks down over you with a fire burning in his dark orbs. And a confession falls from his swollen lips, “may I mark you?”

“And if it doesn’t show up?” Though, you’re wishing to the most powerful wizards that it does or else your heart would shatter into a million pieces beyond repair.

He bites his lip and every possible outcome scatters his thoughts. It’s too hard to concentrate, so he doesn’t at all. He focuses on your pretty lips and the way you look at him like he’s the only person that matters. “Then, we’ll deal with the consequences later.”

With your quick nod, Doyoung attaches his lips to your neck and harshly sucks at your skin. For the most part, it’s a pleasurable feeling and sends a shiver down your spine. So, he licks and nibbles until he can barely breathe. Your faint scent of patchouli and ginger intoxicates him, wraps him up in a fuzzy coziness that is unmatched.

Your hands unbutton his shirt and a final gentle bite seals his mark. If the love is reciprocated, the emblem would take a moment to form. Doyoung is rather hopeful and excited, as he’s never seen his Patronus before. “You look beautiful.”

“And you look dazed as if someone charmed you.” You giggle and kiss his red lips.

“You’re quite the powerful one, my Puff.” He smiles against your jaw before proceeding to your mess down below. He gives your aching clit a few licks, which cause your body to twist and turn at the sensitive sensation.

“Please, I haven’t felt you in so long.” Whining and tugging at his hair, Doyoung leaves a lasting kiss and gets up to remove his pants.

“Did you miss me?” Doyoung raises a suggestive eyebrow and cocks his head to the side in mockery, a smirk growing on his face.

You reply with a silly response that only he knows and causes him to chuckle, “unfortunately.” And he’s finding every way not to confess his endearments for you.

His dick stands tall and proud against his abdomen, giving it a few jerks as he watches you strip out of your own clothes. You turn around and sit on your knees, with a slight tilt forward and the arch in your back to accentuate your ass.

Doyoung rolls on the protection as quickly as he can. His hands lightly smack your cheeks and slowly enters your dripping hole. His hands grip your hips as he slides deeper into you, both being moaning messes at the delicious feeling.

“Have you always been this big?” You look back at him and to which he devilishly smiles at you.

“You know just the way to fuel my ego,” when his length is fully buried inside of your tight walls, he wraps an arm around your waist and a hand on your tit. “After all the times you’ve been fucked, your pussy is still as tight as ever.”

Doyoung slams hard into you, showing no mercy and causing you to jolt up. He takes every frustration, every feeling of anger, every ounce of jealousy into his thrusts. “But you take me so well, darling. I’ve never seen someone as pretty as you.”

His compliments cause your heart to soar, despite the soreness you’re beginning to feel in your pussy. He’s relentless, bottoming out until his tip is practically in your guts. “Just like that, baby. You’re the only one who fucks me this good.”

He blushes under the low light and leans forward to kiss the top of your head. “My Puff, you’re so sweet to me.” The loud squelch of your tight pussy gripping his dick fills the hot room, “and so wet.”

You’re shamelessly dripping on his green velvet blanket and Doyoung picks up his speed. Your knees give out as you fall face forward into the mattress, hands in fists from the incredible pleasure of every hit. Your ass now in his full view and every tingle of magic lights up in his veins.

Your throat is raw from screaming and moaning, Doyoung holds your hips steady to thrust into a new angle. Automatically, your body twitches as his tip hits your special spot and he’s well aware that you’re close to releasing.

And with his fast thrusts, he asks you an intimate question that is fueled by envy and rage. “If I fuck you the best, then why do you sleep with other men?”

There are no thoughts in your mind to even give him a white lie, to mask the truth of your actions. He’s fucking you into an oblivion that it’s hard to even focus on anything besides pleasure. The books on his shelf begin to tremble as you’re crying out, “I- I don’t know! Fuck, please… ! I’m tipping over.”

“Answer the question or I will stop.” He’s absolutely cynical and you have every reason to believe his threat. Doyoung lifts your limp body upright, against his torso and an arm secured around your middle as before. His hand snakes to your clit, rubbing feathering circles over the neglected bud.

Nonetheless, his single action paired with his tip grazing harshly against the particular spot causes your legs to tremble. “Do you want me to stop?” His threat rings in your ears when you still left him without an answer.

You’re so close, you’re starting to see white. So, you say what your heart tells you and the truth falls from your lips in a loud confession. “Because I wanted you to love me instead! I fucked them to forget about my love for you… fuck, I’m--”

“I’ve got you. Let go of yourself, baby.” Doyoung slows his hips when your walls squeeze around him sporadically. Every book flies out and hits the opposite wall, clattering the floor with heavy academia. However, he repeats your proclamation endlessly in his mind and his heart surges with the most intense romantic desires.

“I do love you, y/n.” He whispers, cumming into his rubber and simply holding you tightly. He lets go of every prideful arrogance in his body, tossing the lame reputation he always tried to hold onto. He didn’t need that if it meant losing you. Doyoung chuckles to himself for being an obvious cliché, announcing one’s love in the midst of a lustful act. He pulls out and gently tucks you into the covers.

Breathless, you’re finally realizing his confession. “You do? Are you sure?” Any subtle movements has your aching lower half in pain, so you settle with resting on his plush pillows and await for him to join you in bed.

All this time, from beginning to now, you’ve been oblivious to his yearning looks across the Great Hall. The intensity of his kisses had been lost upon you completely as you had convinced yourself that he was incompatibly of loving you back. Even now, as you lay in slight doubt, you’re wondering how you managed to have everything fly over your head.

When he discards his used protection and with a quick flick of his wrist, every book finds its original place on the shelf again, he enters the warm covers. Your arms wrap around his neck and you’re admiring each other’s expressions in the low light. He spots the notable twinkle in your eyes and his thumb lightly rubs your cheek.

“If the symbol of my Patronus doesn’t show, I promise to love you harder until it does.” Doyoung leaves the softest, most loving kiss on your lips. He’s more than thankful for the lack of light as he’s bashfully red all over his cheeks.

“Usually, people just give up.” Your voice is harsh, possibly from the deafening screaming of pleasure prior.

Doyoung shakes his head. He’s made too many mistakes in this relationship with you. Sleeping with another. Ignoring your existence. Being too prideful to be seen with another house. All these incidents have made him feel nothing but ugliness and distraught, and pushed you away further than how much he is able to pull you back.

He loves you. He’s in love with you. He’s fallen for you recklessly as you did off your broom the first encounter. You’re everything he’s never been and never will be, yet you don’t care. You’re by his side, despite his spitefulness and you never miss a beat. That innocent youth approach to love, oh how he wishes it never faded, and though he thought it did, it didn’t. You remain true to your character when he fights with himself internally.

“That would be a mistake and I can’t afford to keep making them.” A glossy sheen over Doyoung’s regretful eyes, but you pull him closer and you refuse to let his eyes wander.

A tired harmless sigh escapes your lips and a dreamy haze overcomes you. Besides the reminder of needing to use the bathroom flashing in your mind, there is nothing else you want to dissect. Feelings are too complex to discuss at the moment and the resolve has already passed.

Regardless of the marks appearing, you’re content with the night and for the rest of your days. Kim Doyoung, the Slytherin boy of your dreams, loves you back and the power of that alone beats any spell in those dusty old textbooks.

“Why can’t we lay here forever?” Your heavy eyelids fall slowly and your voice grows small.

Doyoung kisses your shoulder, then your neck. “That’s impossible. I can’t give you forever.” He mumbles against your skin, sending vibrations across your throat.

“You are my forever.” Doyoung halts and is left speechless as a white glowing entity catches his eye. And the absolute perfect outline of his Patronus sits underneath your jaw, brightly shining with iridescent brilliance --- he makes out the outline: a White Swan, representing his love for you. Doyoung smiles to himself and hopes for it to never fade. Perhaps, he can give you forever.

some fun critical questions to think about hehe -

why do you think y/n lied to doyoung about jaehyun confessing? why do you think yuta helped y/n enter the Slytherin dormitories? what is the meaning behind the White Swan Patronus? Why do you think y/n continued to like doyoung after all this time?

there are no right or wrong answers, just something fun to have you thinking a little more about the fic haha if you want, you can send me an ask about it :) but overall, no pressure and thank you for reading! please leave me some feedback if you can! happy new year!