#ordinary magic happens every single day: grace

[nxttheendxfthestxry]

"After we keep our sister from going stoner, can we for once all be in the same room?" - Aradia

"I think that would kind of be involved in said situation of keeping our sister from going stoner." Grace sighs, brushing her hair out of her face.

[a-kaash-me-outside]

the walls are thin - ch3

in which atsumu is your college neighbor with whom you share a wall. previous | ch3 | next [masterlist]

// perfectly inconsiderate, maybe cluelessly oblivious ~ ᴀᴛsᴜᴍᴜ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ~ 6733 ᴡᴏʀᴅs

a look into this chapter: soft self-indulgent flirtationship with hanamaki, 18+ masturbation (and eventual smut), feelings are confusing, flirting is also confusing (but prevalent), seijoh4 hangout session, more lunch dates, flustered contact, afab reader she/her pronouns oh and ofc she's got a playlist (♡)

send an ask and i’ll add ya to the taglist! ~ ♡ ʀᴇʙʟᴏɢs ᴀɴᴅ ɪɴᴛᴇʀᴀᴄᴛɪᴏɴs ᴍᴇᴀɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴏʀʟᴅ ♡

this has happened before. this isn’t some new phenomenon taking you by surprise. this has happened many times before, actually. this isn’t out of the ordinary for your overly sexually active, inconsiderate, unknown neighbor. 

but for some stupid reason it feels out of the ordinary for atsumu. not miya atsumu, the name on the door of your irritatingly thoughtless neighbor, but for atsumu, the one you texted for two weeks straight and that commented on every single one of your vacation photos with silly inside jokes and who called you to talk about his first day back at volleyball practice. 

you knew this time was coming sooner or later, or, in hindsight, you should have. he didn’t just magically change who he was because he met you and he admitted it himself, he only really started hanging out with you because he wanted to fuck you. and you don’t blame him for that. your motives were similar at first.

the shift from strangers to flirting strangers to friends was a bit more difficult than you thought it would be, especially when you haven’t really moved on from the whole flirting bit or the whole wanting to be more than friends but not wanting to ruin the rest of your last college year bit. 

you know him now. maybe not know him, but you know enough, more than nothing, so being here, consciously listening to the first time that atsumu has fucked someone since you moved from nothing to something just isn’t sitting right with you. not that you can even really focus on the noises if you wanted to, not with all of this thinking going on in your head.

your stomach drops. 

this actually probably isn’t the first time that he’s fucking someone since you met. he probably picked back up on this routine the second that volleyball stopped for spring break and the realization is really making your stomach hurt. the thought of him with someone else, texting you before and after, is having too much of an effect on you. 

the only saving grace is that you can’t hear them, not the beds or the impact, but them. you’re not sure you could’ve ever recovered from that, not now. the air of the situation has already changed just from knowing him, but if you had to hear him too, you’re not sure you could have continued down this path of friendship. more than that, it feels like a betrayal, creepy maybe, and, at the very least, weird for you. you feel like a stranger in your own home. you can barely think as you swallow the lump in your throat. there’s so much on your mind, so many feelings swarming around you and you can feel every single one on your skin even if you can’t identify some of them.

and underneath it all, a small but persistent sting.

you can’t be here a second longer.

even as you close your door softly behind you, your chest feels tight. through your entire walk, your chest feels tight. you’re no longer in your room, but you can still feel the rhythm beneath your sternum. you shake your head, arms, all the way out to your hands, trying to get this feeling off of your body, sitting in anticipation as you wait for a response to your knocking.

“not fucking this again, you’re lucky-,” maki says, hushed but forceful, throwing open the door. whatever was about to come out of his mouth dissipates in his throat before it can even reach his tongue. he moves aside from the door, giving you plenty of space to leave the openness of the hallway. his features quickly morph into concern and now you’re feeling bad that you’re making it somebody else’s problem.

he locks the door quickly and pulls you into his room. only when his door is also shut and locked behind the two of you does he speak, “what happened?”

you’re silent for what feels like the better half of an hour, though realistically you’re sure is a handful of minutes. “‘ts stupid,” you mumble, shaking your head. you still feel small, but you’re starting to feel a bit more normal as maki wraps his fingers around your forearm. 

from the second that he saw you, he knew that whatever happened had something to do with your previously shitty turned okay turned shitty again obviously neighbor. he asks anyways, “did atsumu do something?”

you don’t try to, in fact, you actively try not to, but the events are too recent, mind too swarming to have as much control as you’d like; you wince at his name. despite everything you’re feeling, somehow you’re still able to focus on maki as he warms, mouth opening to spout something loud, but shutting to be replaced with a calm exhale. what he really wants to do is go over there at this exact second, but what he needs to do is just be there for you.

you shrug your shoulders a bit, pathetic laugh leaving your chest at the pure familiarity of it all, “lover boy’s at it again.” the confusion that takes on maki’s face is gone just as quickly, waiting for you to explain rather than make assumptions. you continue, “it’s been three weeks with nothing and then -”

maki interrupts you, sitting on his bed and smoothing the space next to him. you sit, back against the wall, legs crossed, head hanging. you explain everything to him and it’s hard to remember that all of this happened just a few hours ago. the lunch, the weird thing atsumu said to you, the hurt that you noticed on his face, the note he left you, the cactus, your feelings every step of the way.

by the end of it your head is on maki’s pillow facing maki whose head is also on his pillow and he has the slightest, feather-like, ghosting touch on your hip and you’re slowly forgetting the distress you were in earlier. maki’s always had that effect on you, really. 

“you’re welcome to stay over until-,” he starts, but you cut him off, shaking your head.

“no, i have to…,” you pause. have to what? “i have to do it, stay over at my own place and stuff. i can’t keep hiding at yours every time something happens,” you reason, and it feels good coming out of your mouth. it feels like progress. “i will take you up on that offer tonight, obviously, because i’m not moving from this very spot.” there isn’t much space between the two of you, but you’re determined for their to be none, scooching closer, forehead resting on his shoulder.

“tomorrow night i’ll sort myself out, wear headphones or something, i don’t know.” as you shrug, your arm moves against his, just another reminder of how close you are to him.

the two of you sit in silence for a minute and it’s nice to be able to not feel like you have to keep talking in an attempt to feel better. you pull back, just a few inches, to look at him, “but it’s nice that you’d let me stay here indefinitely,” you smile, a real smile, a lightness returning again if only for a moment. 

he presses a soft kiss onto your forehead. “unfortunately,” he jokes, “i would do just about anything for you, so.”

“i think that’s pretty fortunate for me,” you laugh softly, and you really do mean it.

/++/

you make true to your promise. the next day you stay in despite how much you want to leave your room and go anywhere else. 

> maki ♡ / 12:32 am > futon/bed is open if tonight’s too much btw

&lt; 12:32 am < should be okay < but ty < will update you tomorrow < wish me luck

> maki ♡ / 12:33 am > nah > you don’t need it

the anticipation is almost worse than it just happening. you wait and wait and wait for the inevitable noise to come, but it doesn’t. by 1 am you’re wondering why you just haven’t gone to sleep yet. by 2 am you know that it’s because you want to know if something is going to happen. by 3 am you can barely keep your eyes open and he’s done it again, inadvertently fucked up your sleep schedule.

two more nights go by and nothing, both peaceful, quiet nights that you would’ve killed for at the beginning of the semester. now even these feel sour. 

it really can’t get any worse than this.

/++/

> miya atsumu / 11:23 am > are you avoiding me?

shit.

in the span of these three anticipatory days, you hadn’t seen atsumu, not in the hallway or around campus. that could potentially have been on account of you not being in your dorm building except to sleep and avoiding common student areas like the plague. potentially. 

you weren’t necessarily avoiding him, just the places where you had the highest chance of running into him. there’s a difference.

&lt; 12:01 pm < lol no

> miya atsumu / 12:03 pm > prove it. let’s go get lunch

shit.

/++/

you get there first, set out a small blanket in the far corner past the busy areas around the student union. of course you agreed to go and of course you felt like you might puke but you couldn’t just avoid him for the rest of the year and the longer you waited, the worse it would get. 

at least you had time to prepare yourself, fiddled with the lunch that you had grabbed, told yourself everything would probably be fine, tried to anticipate whatever his reaction would be to how awkward you were inevitably about to be. you try to keep your head down, like you couldn’t care less about when he’s coming, paying attention to your phone. this, of course, just means that his voice, all the way from across the lawn, scares the shit out of you.

“i can’t believe you tried to ghost me,” he says loudly, voice traveling, catching the attention of a few too many people, completely negating the quietness of the spot you’ve chosen, arm outstretched, pointer finger perfectly in your direction as he closes the distance between the two of you. “after i watched your plants, bought you lunch, got you a cactus?”

shit shit shit shit shit shit.  if it were anyone else, there would be a moment of fear, of terror, like you’ve certainly fucked something up, but with atsumu that wasn’t the case. his tone is light, perfectly airy, really, harboring a teasing nature that means the difference between fake annoyance and real. and there’s laughter bubbling up from your stomach, taking over the pit that has been sitting there since you first got his text message. 

you really try not to let him win, to let him back into your good graces as easily as you’re about to. though, you’re actually not sure he’s done anything wrong in the first place, not when you’re the one that basically turned him down, not vice versa. he’s still here, still trying to be your friend, still making an effort.

“i know where you live,” he shouts.

just like before, you feel all of your resolve slipping away. your lips upturn, smile wide as you let the laughter come in waves, clutching at your stomach when the feeling doesn’t stop for some reason. he takes a seat beside you, “come on, yn, people are staring. it wasn’t that funny,” he smirks.

still throwing tiny flirts and inside jokes in your direction. 

he’s looking gorgeous yet again. you only notice it, unfortunately, when he’s sitting right next to you, shoulder pressed up against yours, stealing a grape from your fruit cup. he’s to blame, really, for looking that good stealing your food. 

“i’m sorry i’ve been absent the past couple of days,” you say, and you mean it too much to care about how genuine it sounds in comparison to your typical taunting. 

you wait for him to keep it up, the poking fun, or at the very least ask you why you were gone, all outcomes that you really didn’t want to deal with. instead, however, he takes another piece of fruit from the plastic cup, “no sweat.” he shrugs, “just don’t do it again.”

you exhale something adjacent to a laugh, “alright, yeah, deal.”

he reaches over once more, hand open and moving towards your fruit cup. you smack his shoulder, “oh my god, get your own.” it’s effortless, the playfulness that comes out of you, and it’s making you feel like the past three days never even happened. he pauses and looks like he’s deep in thought. 

“nah,” he reaches forward again. this time a smack doesn’t do it, because despite you hitting his hand, wrist, forearm, wherever you can reach, multiple times, he just keeps pushing forward. there might be a metaphor somewhere there.

you grab onto his arm, “are you kidding?” it takes more of your strength than you’re willing to admit, wrapping both arms around his bicep and trying to pull him away, but he just keeps on. “i paid 5 whole dollars for that,” you groan, voice strained by the effort of your attempts as you practically crawl on top of him. he pulls his arm back further like it’s nothing at all to counteract the weight of your entire body on his arm, laughing as he does so. you make one final attempt, springing forward. 

“‘tsumu, seriously.”

and then he stops, blush spreading across his nose and cheeks. he clears his throat, doesn’t even try to hide the fact that he’s staring at you and you’re 100% certain that his blush is contagious. you don’t know whether to tease him or apologize or just carry on. you let your arms hang around his, knees on either side of his thigh.

eventually, you lean back into the balls of your feet, creating a bit more distance between the two of you slowly. it’s like your movement made the moment real, made it come back to life. he smiles, shakes his head. “you’re something else, you know that?”

all you can do is smile proudly, still frozen in this position and a tiny part of you, the smallest goddamn bit, wishes that there was something off about the interaction, but you can’t find a single bitter feeling anywhere. 

/++/

that night, you hear it. the second that it starts, you’re worried that it’s going to send you back into whatever that was again, but the only worrying that you actually end up doing is worrying about worrying. the thumping is soft. even in your bed, you can barely hear it. most of the time it fades into the background and only once every few minutes are you reminded that it’s even happening.

still, you’re convinced that any minute now all of that is going to change, the pace is going to pick up, the noises are going to get louder, you just know it. 

and then you fall asleep. during the lull between soft reminders, you drift off and in the morning you don’t really know what to feel. you just feel… normal?

you spend all morning worrying, then, that this normal is a false sense of security, that it’s going to start a weird cycle where you ditch atsumu for three days straight again, but while you’re getting ready, atsumu knocks on your door and offers to walk you to class even though his class doesn’t start until 10 and is on the other side of campus just because you mentioned that you get lonely on your 9 am walks in a passing text message during spring break.

the two of you walk to your class and atsumu tells you to meet him for lunch and you’re looking forward to it. you’re not even thinking about last night. maybe that’s because last night wasn’t too disruptive, but even still, you don’t spend the next nights waiting for something to happen. it just feels normal. 

it’s much less frequent than before, still happening every few days, but not nearly as often as before you knew him. though, you traded constancy for knowing him. it didn’t matter how far between those nights were, they were different now. not completely, of course. you still drowned it out with your headphones, still went to go study instead of just sitting around and dealing with it, but it was the times that you didn’t leave that were really different. 

before you used to just get annoyed at every noise that wasn’t a bedpost against your shared wall. the thumping was bad, but at least it was consistent. the squeaking, the moans, the muffled voices, now they weren’t just annoying. now you could see everything so clearly in your head. you had a face, a body, a personality to attribute to these actions.

every time these thoughts would start and your imagination wandered, you curbed it quickly. you didn’t let yourself indulge in them, only got so far as to tilt your head and listen closer one time. it felt like a breach of privacy, like you were betraying trust he didn’t even know he was instilling in you. 

the sounds were easy enough to ignore, sure, but the feeling of the wall against your shoulder? that was a little harder to feign oblivion to. the thumping was sending waves through your entire body and even though you weren’t listening, you could picture it so clearly in your head, not the rhythm, but his rhythm. the abstracts of these actions were becoming so human, so atsumu.

when you close your eyes you can see him, but you don’t see him over his shoulder or like a movie, no. you see him like you’re underneath him, like you’re the one making him shake the wall. you take a deep breath, hands moving on their own as they pull your headphones off, setting them on your side table so gently, like if you were too rough, atsumu would be able to hear you. 

your heart is beating so violently against your chest and there is a tiny voice in the back of your head telling you that this is probably a bad idea, but you can hear him now, muffled but still audible, the groans and deliberate small praises. you slide your palm over your neck, squeezing gently, following your body down, digging your own nails into your collarbones, skimming over your chest. if you weren’t so aware that these noises had been going on for some time already, you might have teased yourself a bit more, let you feel yourself a bit more, but his moans are getting more desperate and you can’t hold yourself back.

your hand is slow as it moves between your legs, two fingers slipping between your lips and you’re almost embarrassed at how wet you are already. whoever else is in that room is sobbing, crying out his name and it’s not your voice, but you imagine that it is, like you’re the one he’s turned into this babbling mess. 

you push two fingers inside of yourself and it’s not enough, not big enough, not long enough, but it’ll do for now. you move your fingers in time with the thumping against the wall, getting faster when he does. 

“yeah? is it good?” he says, words punctuated by a faster pace. “tell me how good it is.”

“‘s so good,” you say under your breath, shoving another finger inside of yourself, other hand digging into the fat of your hip just like you’re imagining atsumu would.

“reach down and rub that fucking clit,” he groans through gritted teeth, the banging of the wall getting a bit less consistent. “fuck, that’s good.”

you move your other hand down, rubbing small circles into your clit as you finger yourself as fast as his pace is letting you. a whine is trapped in your throat, coming out in the form of a small, low hum as you roll your hips onto your fingers.

“deeper, atsumu, deeper, please,” you hear someone cry.

you know that you should probably feel jealous, and you do, but more than anything you feel yourself flood, your entire body warm as your sloppy hole quivers around your own fingers, around atsumu’s cock. you feel delusional. 

“not yet. not until ya’ve earn it,” he growls, “tighten that pussy around me. milk my cock.” the moan tears out of you without warning, throaty and taken, barely audible, mouth agape as you tighten around your own fingers. it’s not just what he’s saying, it’s how he sounds while he’s saying it, that fucking accent - thicker and stronger than any other time you’ve heard it. you’re shaking, your own mind deceiving you, telling you that one day you’ll coax it out of him, take him so well that you can barely fucking understand him.

you’re so close, so fucking close, but you don’t want to finish until he has, want to hear him as he comes, pay close attention to what he sounds like so you can play it on repeat everytime you fuck yourself

“good girl,” he says, and it’s like it was made for you. 

you’re whispering thank yous under your breath. you’re convinced he can hear them, that he knows how grateful you are for them. “gonna come,” you warn him.

“‘m almost there, fuck,” he grunts and the wall shakes harder, harsher. “fuck.” his voice is throaty. his breathing is labored, heavy. and then the walls stop shaking. a single strangled moan rips from atsumu, a string of mumbles and obscenities that you can’t really make out follow and you come all over your fingers, fucking yourself through your orgasm as your walls flutter around your all-too-small fingers. 

you pull your hands from between your legs, resting them at your side, chest rising and falling so heavily that you’re surprised you’re still conscious. fuck, you were going to need a minute to recover.

she obviously is not given that luxury. you hear some murmurs and mumbles, hear the bed groan, keys jingle, and a door open and then immediately shut. if you wanted to, you could go over there right now and see exactly what he looks like after something like that, but you can’t really move, couldn’t get up from your bed let alone put proper clothes on and walk over there despite how tempting that sounds.

after everything clears, you’re waiting for the regret to sink in, for the guilt to take its place, but it doesn’t. sure, it feels a bit taboo, but if you really regretted it, you wouldn’t have kept doing it. you wouldn’t have kept listening, kept masturbating to it, wouldn’t have stayed up waiting for it to happen.

and you’re not sure if it’s a good or a bad thing, how easy it was for you to face him during the day, to ask him how his nights were and to flirt with him in the same way that you used to. your relationship stays the same, good, great even. you continue to hang out just as much as you used to despite the fact that you knew things about him and his sex like that maybe you shouldn’t have known.

you learned things, patterns, kinks, all because atsumu was perfectly inconsiderate, maybe cluelessly oblivious. 

it wasn’t just the one time that she left minutes after everything was said and done, it was every time. in fact, if you really wanted to, you could, without even listening for the click of the door, go over there without catching her just on the basis of how consistent it was.

you knew that he loved to hear his own name during sex, moaned and panted and screamed and whined. he asked for it frequently, for them to call out his name, always seemed to be motivated by it.

you knew that he loved to be deep throated, but that no one could really take him as deep as he wanted to go. you wouldn’t admit to anyone the lengths you’ve gone to attempt it, even bought a new dildo just to open up your throat and to reach deeper and stretch you wider than your fingers could now. it felt so good, reached so deep. you could picture it as atsumu’s, use it whenever he boasted about how deep he was inside of you, how big his cock was, how well you took him.

you knew that his head is sensitive, could tell exactly when someone was paying extra attention to it based on his whimpers alone. you knew that there was one time that he got fingered and you have never heard him react so much to one thing. you knew that he loved to come deep inside, would ask if he could between sweet kisses, and when he got a positive response, he was gone in seconds. 

you knew that he loved dirty talk, though most of his partners usually left that up to him. the stunned silence that dirty talking right back could result in is something that didn’t happen enough, not when he was so fucking good. he deserved it all and thensome. he deserved everything that he wanted all at once, wrapped up in a neat little bow. 

and it just kept happening, this weird cycle of finding out more and more about atsumu’s sex life intercut with the two of you casually hanging out finding out more and more about atsumu’s life life.  

but sometimes the stars would align, sometimes they had a hand in each other in ways that you could have never even dreamed of. 

/++/

“do you have lunch plans, because you do now,” atsumu says in one quick string, jogging to catch up with you when he spots you on campus on his walk back to the dorm. 

“i actually already do have lunch plans,” you say, “but if i didn’t-.”

he cuts you off, face twisting into evident confusion, “just cancel them and come hang out with me instead.”

“no can do,” you say, shaking your head for emphasis, “i’ve bailed on them like three times already i think….” you pause, counting on your fingers, “for you. every time.”

“great, so one more isn’t that big of a deal,” he says, still walking along with you as you walk towards your rendezvous spot.

you laugh, “you know i think your persistence is cute, but it’s just not going to work this time.”

“but i don’t have lunch plans,” he complains.

“you could come have lunch with us,” you offer. you’re not sure if he’s going to go crazy for the idea, but at least it might be better than eating alone. 

“yea, right,” atsumu furrows his eyebrows, “i don’t think so. your friends don’t like me very much.”

“you’ve never even hung out with them,” you reason.

“i met your one friend that one time and i don’t think he likes me,” atsumu replies and despite the fact that you’re still walking towards lunch with your friends and despite the fact that he knows that, he’s still following alongside you. 

“i don’t think you liked him very much,” you retort. 

atsumu’s silence seems like a pretty strong tell, but then he speaks up, “yn, he called me the volleyball guy.”

“that’s a compliment, probably.”

“ha ha,” atsumu fakes.

“come on,” you say, taking his hand in yours and dragging him along, “let’s go have lunch with my friends, tsumu.”

he narrows his eyes at you, mouth about to open to protest, but he just can’t. “i never should have told you how i feel about that nickname.”

“well, then i’d never use it,” you point out.

he’s quiet for a beat. “yea, no, that’s much worse.”

/++/

when you approach the picnic table, atsumu’s hand in yours, oikawa is the first person to notice you, shooting a questioning look your way without notifying the rest of the guys who are arguing over god knows what. be cool, you mouth. the smile on oikawa’s face doesn’t exactly read cool, it reads more mischievous. 

you absolutely made a mistake. 

“yn-chan!” oikawa gets up, yanking iwaizumi up with him and moving around to the other side of the table with matsukawa. 

“what- what are you doing?” iwa asks, very evidently confused as to why oikawa is disrupting him in the middle of a heated argument. “yn can sit by issei, why are-.”

he’s not. 

“no! it’s okay! maki’s saved you a seat,” oikawa explains, waving both you and iwa off. 

the argument ceases, attention turns to you as a broad topic, but the focus is absolutely on the interlocked fingers between you and atsumu. now you have to make the choice to drop his hand or be confident about it and you’re not sure you can do either one. and, on top of that, worry about the fact that you’ve really just brought atsumu into the foxes den without even thinking.

though, atsumu never does leave you hanging. and, like always, he usually does surprise you. 

atsumu tightens his grip on your hand, holding tight as he picks his arm up and throws it around your shoulders, pulling you closer to him. you know that he’s soaking in the expressions that it’s elicited. slight tinge of anger on one, confusion on another, surprise on another. you just wish that you could somehow warn him about oikawa’s look of confounded vex. 

“atsumu’s going to be joining us for lunch if that’s cool,” you say, not waiting for a response as you sit down next to hanamaki. you assume it’s going to be weird, moving in time with atsumu draped on your shoulder, but he follows your lead. when you’re both sitting on the bench, he withdraws his arm, placing both forearms on the table after offering a small wave.

oikawa, you knew, could infer without even knowing his name, maki’s already met him, but you’re not sure that issei and hajime are completely understanding the extent of what’s happening, why oikawa is on offense right now. 

“so, how do you know yn?” oikawa asks, an iced coffee straw between his teeth. 

“well, we met because we live next to each other, but now we’re best friends,” atsumu explains and you don’t have to look at maki to know he wants to hit him right now. 

but this question wasn’t to provoke maki; it was to silently explain to the other people at the table what exactly was happening. iwa and issei instantly look gobsmacked. you don’t even know if they try to stop it, but if they do, they’re doing a terrible job.

“ah! that’s right!” oikawa chirps, “that neighbor we’ve heard all about.”

everyone is quiet for a second, waiting to see how atsumu will respond, but he doesn’t give oikawa nearly enough of a reaction. “well, i’m oikawa, this is iwa-chan, matsukawa, and you already know maki. of course, you know maki. anyone who knows yn knows maki.”

“yeah, we’ve met,” maki responds, smiling at oikawa’s description of him, “how’s volleyball?”

you shoot oikawa a warning glare as iwaizumi and issei start a conversation with atsumu about volleyball. watch it, you mouth. oikawa just looks confused, but you catch the slight smile that he throws in maki’s direction.

the conversations are split now. atsumu is talking to iwa and issei, conversation shifting from volleyball to iwaizumi’s goals for the future in athletic training. even with all of the shenanigans that oikawa’s already executed, atsumu is deep in thoughtful conversation with half of your friend group and if it isn’t making your heart swell up for some reason.

you lower your voice for only the otherside of the table to hear, “if you don’t knock it off…”

“then what, yn?” oikawa smirks.

“i’m going to bring hajime into this,” you narrow your eyes. it’s always a gamble bringing up hajime with oikawa. sometimes it works like a charm, a perfect pacifier to a fired up oikawa, but sometimes it backfires, just driving oikawa in the exact opposite direction of where you’re trying to get him to go. maybe you shouldn’t have bet on hajime today.

“no one likes a tattletail,” oikawa whispers, “you’ll see.”

the anticipation is back, something that you really didn’t want to return for a while. you’ve had enough of it this semester if you’re being honest. atsumu stays, thankfully, paying attention to his half of the table, laughing along with the two men about whatever they’re talking about while you face maki. 

he’s not necessarily talking to you about anything in particular, just about his day and updating you on the situation with one of his old coworkers, telling jokes and just being maki. when he mentions something stupid, something unreasonably funny, it takes you by surprise, letting your head fall and clash against maki’s shoulder, holding the other one in your hand as laughter bellows from the two of you as if you were alone.

all at once, you’re taken out of the moment as you feel a hand rest on your thigh, long fingers spanning over the fabric of your skirt, curling around the hem. you slowly bring your head up, arm still resting on maki’s other shoulder and maybe this was oikawa’s plan all along, to get you to sit between maki and atsumu and feel it as much as you’re feeling it right now. 

if only that were the case.

oikawa butts in on atsumu, matsukawa, and iwaizumi’s conversation, completely disregarding whatever they’re talking about. “hajime and i are together,” oikawa says, throwing his arm around iwaizumi’s shoulder, pulling him closer in a very familiar way. 

“oh, that’s great,” atsumu says, evidently confused at the relevance and the disruption.

iwaizumi grabs oikawa’s wrist, throwing it off of him, “you’re being weird, kawa. you don’t even put your arm around me, i put my arm around you if anything-”

oikawa ignores him completely, “you know, that reminds me of something!” he points repetitively at atsumu as if he’s remembering something for the first time that he has to blurt out or he’ll never remember it again. he leans forward like he’s telling a secret.

no.

no.

no.

“y’know, maki and yn used to date,” oikawa says in a tone that you would use to tell someone a fun fact. atsumu stills, hand withdrawing from your lap as he turns to face the two of you. your hand is lingering on maki’s shoulder and you don’t want to move it because then it seems suspicious. 

you turn to face atsumu, letting your hand drop from maki’s shoulder. you can’t read the expression on atsumu’s face again. you’re not a fan of that feeling. 

“really?” is all atsumu asks, nothing more.

you clear your throat, “yeah, during freshman and sophomore year when all of us became friends in the first place.”

“hm,” he hums, and everyone is just waiting for something more, a bigger reaction, a scoff, a confrontation.

but atsumu never does leave you hanging. and, like always, he usually does surprise you.

atsumu snakes his arm around your waist, protective grasp punctuated by his fingertips digging into your side, the pads of his fingertips brushing against your skin as he pushes them under your loose shirt. he pulls you closer to him, slides you across the bench, away from maki, your side now pressed up against his. “yeah, but you’re just friends now, so,” atsumu shrugs and continues on with his conversation that oikawa interrupted previously. 

maki and oikawa look more shocked than atsumu did. there’s a slight trace of annoyance on oikawa’s features, but maki’s is just complete shock, not animosity, just shock.

the rest of lunch goes by without another oikawa fueled hitch.

/++/

today could’ve gone a lot differently. 

if oikawa wasn’t oikawa and atsumu wasn’t atsumu then it would’ve gone very differently, you’re sure. one very important difference being that you wouldn’t be here, in bed, about to fall asleep only to be woken up to that familiar sound. or, at the very least, if things would’ve gone much differently you would’ve felt too bad, too awkward, too guilty to pull the dildo from your bedside table even though you really had no intention of fucking yourself tonight.

you liked these nights the most, the ones where you were able to take it all in, tease yourself just like you’re sure he was teasing her. you could listen and be patient and follow along so nicely, but you don’t get that same luxury tonight. it’s all very quick, very fast paced and atsumu is being uncharacteristically quiet. 

when he slips inside of her, you can hear the snag in his breath, and you mimic it, pushing the dildo inside of you. then you feel the vibrations. you really feel the vibrations, harder than you’ve ever felt that. it doesn’t feel like just your wall is shaking, it feels like your whole room is shaking, it’s harsh.

“fuck, is that good?” atsumu asks, the first thing he’s said all night and you can’t believe how much you missed his voice. mmhm, you whine. you can’t make the dildo fuck you as fast and as hard as you know atsumu is going right now. your arm won’t move that fast, not while feeling the stroke of his entire cock. it’s not as good as he is and you know it. 

“tell me,” atsumu huffs, and usually it’s muffled, but you feel like you can hear it clear as day, right in your ear, “tell me i’m the best you’ve ever had.” your hand stops, motions cease. did you hear him correctly? it sounded so clear, you can’t be mistaken. maybe you’re making things up or putting meaning to things that aren’t really like that. you shake it off, hand moving again trying to match his speed.

he’s already out of breath, panting, and you’re realizing that the reason you haven’t been able to really hear her is because she hasn’t stopped making noise this whole time, a low, monotonous crying that hasn’t changed a bit.

“tell me,” he says, voice just as harsh as his movements.

“fuck, atsumu, you’re the best i’ve ever had.” you can’t imagine it’s not the truth. the same sentence falls out of your mouth.

“yeah? i’m better than him?” he asks, groans getting more possessive, pleas getting more desperate. he can’t even wait for her to respond, needs to hear it now. “tell me, fuck, tell me i’m better than him.” you can’t breathe. it’s not a coincidence. it can’t be. you’ve listened to atsumu have sex enough times to know that this isn’t just some kink thing that he likes. this is pointed. this is fueled. and you know exactly by what. 

she listens quickly, which is fair considering that this is probably the best she’s ever felt, despite not really understanding what he’s asking her to say, “you’re so much better than him. fuck, you’re so good, atsumu.”

“yea? ‘m bigger than him, make you feel so much better than him,” atsumu groans, no longer asking, room shaking as he chases his high, “fuck need to fill you, please, fuck.”

“yes, fuck, fill me.”

“gonna fill you so full, make you feel so much fuller than he can, every drop just for you,” he whines. shit, you wanted to hear those whines in your dreams. 

“every drop for me,” you whimper, pumping the cock in and out of you, clenching around the thickness, so fucking close despite the few times you couldn’t help but stop.

“just for you, -” he grunts, pretty little scream hitting him and you’re sure that tonight wasn’t just incredible for whoever he was inside of right now. it’s not the scream that sends you over the edge, but the beginning sounds of your name that fall from his tongue but are quickly cut short. 

you push the dildo out of the way, body and mind exhausted by whatever just fucking happened. you count the seconds until this person is gone from atsumu’s room. the lock clicks, door opens, then slowly shuts. in the quiet of the aftermath, you hear a heavy sigh and a loud, “fuck!” followed by another softer sigh.

maybe you had more of an effect on him than you thought.

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send an ask and i’ll add ya to the taglist! ~ ♡ ʀᴇʙʟᴏɢs ᴀɴᴅ ɪɴᴛᴇʀᴀᴄᴛɪᴏɴs ᴍᴇᴀɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴏʀʟᴅ ♡

[shes-some-other-where]

June of Doom Day 16

“At least it can’t get any worse.” [part 2 of 3]

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Contains: death mention, poison mention

WC: 790

The unmistakable sapor of a curse

“Don’t embarrass me, all right?”

The ballroom was lively, overflowing with the swish of silks through the perfume-scented air and the scuff of leather over the gleaming tile floor. Everywhere one looked, there was beauty to be found: the luscious regalia of wealthy lords and ladies, gold and silver platters heaped with the most astonishing assortments of food ever beheld, glowing candles in every colour the mind could imagine, and the beaming smiles of the satisfied rich who danced merrily, now well wined and well fed.

One particularly contented guest was the food taster of a visiting lord. The young nobleman had been invited in his father’s stead, since the elder gentleman had fallen ill of late and was too frail to attend such a fête as this. The food taster was thrilled—and awed—to attend a ball at the royal palace, of all places; he’d spent his childhood in the significantly less opulent pastures of the rural north.

At least, he had until he was thirteen, when word reached the local government of his extraordinary palette, which perceived not only ordinary scents and flavours . . . and not only poison.

He, a farm boy from nowhere, could sense magic, and, if circumstances were agreeable, manipulate or even sever it. A dangerous power, yet an undeniably useful one, and from then on, the farm boy had become a generally well-compensated food taster with a fascinating collection of side skills.

Standing amongst the most powerful men and women in the entire realm was marvellous, of course. However, he was simply relieved to have made it through the dinner without ingesting any deadly poisons or—far more likely—choking to death on his own nerves.

“What makes you think I’d do anything to embarrass you?” he replied with a grin, more cocksure now he’d survived the meal. He and the governor’s son were mere months apart in age, and they’d been fast friends since their first meeting. It rather came with the territory; he’d have been far less likely to risk a horrible death by poison every single day if he utterly loathed the person he was supposed to protect.

Unfortunately, friendship carried with it the tendency toward brutal honesty, and his employer launched into a long list of ways his food taster might make fools of them both, including  such deplorable personal deficiencies as his pitiful ability to carry a conversation that wasn’t about poison or magic, his poor taste in party dress, and his abominable attempts at dancing.

The food taster only heard half of it, for two very peculiar things happened at once.

One: he saw the most beautiful girl he had ever laid eyes on.

Two: his senses prickled, a sour tang coating his tongue, the taste making his eyes water—the unmistakable sapor of a curse.

“Where are you going?” asked the governor’s son, and the food taster realized he’d taken a few unintentional steps away. “I’m not even halfway through.”

 With magic tingling so strongly in his every nerve, all the food taster could say was: “Who is that?”

The governor’s son followed his gaze to the lithe, graceful form slinking delicately through the room, taking in the blood-red gown, the fresh roses in her hair, the glitter of fine jewellery on her arms and neck. Her skin seemed impossibly pristine, like she was utterly untouched by sunlight—a girl who spent a lavish, luxurious life indoors.

Some rich nobleman’s daughter, no doubt. Much higher in wealth and status than a food taster from the dusty north could ever hope to be, no matter how valuable the governor deemed him.

“Her? Good luck with that, mate,” his friend said, bursting into a laugh. “She’s going to run the other way the moment she spots you. She’ll be able to smell that you were born in a barn.”

Transfixed by the girl and dazed by the puzzling presence of a curse, he neglected to remind his friend that he’d been born outside the garden shed, not inside the barn. “I’m going to ask her to dance.”

“Don’t you dare!” exclaimed the governor’s son. “What did I just say? Don’t embarrass me here, of all places.”

He reached out to grab the food taster’s arm, but he missed by a hairsbreadth, and the food taster darted through the crowd, snickering to himself as his friend groaned, “Damn him, the bumbling, unrefined idiot. Could he have picked anyone worse? Look at her. He’s going to get himself thrown out.”

“Well, you said it yourself,” said the steward who’d accompanied them to the capitol. When the food taster peeked back, still grinning, he saw the old man shaking his head. “He’ll learn his lesson quick. Can’t get any worse from there.”

June of Doom Masterlist

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@juneofdoom

All my writing is original. Feel welcome to interact/comment/reblog. Pls don’t steal or repost.

[nxttheendxfthestxryarch2]

Open Starter: Balanced (Grace)

She likes days like this. It was beautiful out, and everything was in an acceptable range of balance. She didn’t have to worry about anything and she definitely didn’t plan to.

Well, anything except her math homework. She’s sitting out at a picnic table lightly tapping her pencil against the page, thinking about it, letting out a small sigh.

[fxirytxlcfxtc]

Tag Dump - Muses, 3/?

[natewriteslol]

Hey! Could i request the dorm leaders with an esper MC? Kinda like Mob psycho or Saiki k :) and maybe they don't really use this ability of theirs that much since in their world they're literally a teen who's trying to live a normal life(like Mob basically), so nobody knew about their psychic powers except Grim since the mirror said that he couldnt sense any magic in them(i'm pretty sure that psychic powers don't really count as magic but idk lol).

Feel free to ignore if you don't wanna write it! :)

 A/N: Ooh this was a fun one! I haven't watched Mob Psycho (I know about that fine ass blonde man-) but I have watched Saiki k and I loved it, still need to finish it tho jlafljhdas 

Characters: Kalim Al-Asim, Riddle Rosehearts, Leona Kingscholar, Vil Schoenheit, Azul Ashengrotto, Idia Shroud, Malleus Draconia

P.S: I’m so sorry this is so long omg but I guess this is a strong comeback-

Warnings: none except for language

Riddle:

-You wanted to stay as far away as possible from him

-Riddle was part of the trio of people you wanted to stay away from: Riddle, Vil, and Azul

-Riddle paid so much attention to fine details that if something was up, he'd definitely notice it

-But unfortunately you were best friends with the two goobers of Heartslabyul: Ace and Deuce

-And Riddle had started to pay attention to you and your habits, and something was off with you

-It's almost as though you tried too hard to be normal, like Jamil

-And he could never let something like that happen again, so yes he was watching you

-One day you accidently slipped up and was irresponsible with your powers

-Grim was bothering you since he got into a deal with Azul for tuna and they were standing outside with the twins, since Grim lost

-You told him to fend for himself and teleported, however you didn’t plan where you would go

-And you teleported into the Heartslabyul dorm

-What sucks is that your teleportation power was literally flashy with a bright ass green light every time you popped in somewhere

-Just when you thought you were lucky since the whole dorm was uninhabited...except for Riddle who watched the whole thing

-He was completely shocked, he didn’t know what to say other than “What did you just do?!” 

-You explained to him, and that just pieced everything together

-How you solved overblots with such ease, and that one day you had a “strength potion to test for Azul” was such bs!

-Riddle ends up keeping your secret, since he values your privacy but if you do something major and mess up then he will tell!

-”I understand but please be more careful with your powers. I need to institute discipline and you are no exception, Y/N.”

-He really does care about you and doesn’t want you to be found out 

-Goes the extra mile to cover for you often, and in exchange you help him out with things :)

Leona:

-He didn't really care about you at first but as you started to hang Jack and Ruggie, Leona started to get more suspicious

-Your scent had proven that you had some trace of magic, but Leona just couldn't put his finger on it

-So he sent Ruggie after you for a couple of days

-If you were a threat to Savanaclaw, Leona would crush you

-But Ruggie had only reported back that everything with you was perfectly normal

-"Just give it up Leona, they're just an ordinary human. The scent is probably weird because they're from a completely different world."

-But Leona still had that feeling, so he was keeping an eye on you

-You had made a deal with Crowley to keep your powers secret to solve problems on campus (it did cut repair costs and handymen costs in half so-)

-Your new quest was to rid the forest of the Angolo fungus that was manifesting into living fungus blobs 

-The one thing that gave you away was Grim, as you both had to stop by the Greenhouse to read some info about the fungus

-The cat beast was being far too loud, not understanding why he had to go and mess around with the icky fungus

-You simply replied “It’ll be quick, I’ll just use Hydrokinesis and dry out the fungus since they’re mainly filled with water. They become fertilizer once dried so we can just leave them there.”

-And there Leona was, ears perked up once he heard your voice

-Hydrokinesis? What are you talking about?

-So he set off, following you to the forest

-You started to fly, turning the once green and lively fungus to brown dust while Grim napped against a tree

-Leona for the first time in the while, was left speechless

-Once you noticed him, you realized you had to talk to him

-Confronting him later on, luckily Leona didn’t spill to anyone 

-He promised to never tell anyone about what he saw, and had no clapbacks for what you had to say 

- Leona doesn’t even benefit from this secret...besides mayyybee one day asking for your help if his pride lets him

-By the Great Seven why does everything have to not be in his favor-

Azul:

-Another one who you have got to be careful around, since he’s incredibly observant

-More observant than Riddle

-Azul noticed that you’re an incredibly average person, and were incredibly relaxed even during the most stressful situations

-And almost every single time whenever you were in a tight spot, it works in your favor

-Just how is that possible? Solving overblots left and right? Every single time you disappeared the infestation of magical beasts are gone? 

-One day, you were getting picked on by a three guys, their stature far above yours and incredibly strong. How could you possibly win?

-Just as he was about to scoop in a save you, you slammed one of the men into the concrete, taking on the other two by electrocuting them, the blue lightning buzzing in your palms

-They were completely knocked out, dusting off your palms and picking up your things only to face Azul’s eyes

-After giving an explanation of what that was, he was still speechless

-Azul at first was incredibly shocked and then since Azul is Azul... later on realized this had benefits

-He could just blackmail you to be his new bodyguard!

-Oh how he always manages to bend life to his will-!

-So you could just wipe his memory... or turn him into stone...nvm

-You’re now Azul’s arch nemesis since you end up saving people from his scamming and you’re basically untouchable and there’s nothing he can do about it

-But he does find your great strength admirable (and a lil hot, I mean what can u say seeing someone floating in the air with electricity flowing through them is a nice look okay Nate shut up)

Kalim: 

-Oh Kalim my beloved

-He just thinks that you’re incredibly talented and a little mysterious

-You have your little quirks and he has his! Who is he to judge?

-Until one day you wanted to make the load lighter on Jamil, since the berries that Kalim had requested for were only in season in one country

-You decided to just teleport and then come back with the berries so Kalim wouldn’t be pouty 

-You were outside the door ready to teleport when last minute you felt a hand on your shoulder

- “Oh Y/N you forgot-!”

-And there both you and Kalim were, in a berry field thousands of miles away from the Scarabia dorm

-Kalim screams, falling to the lush green of the field

-What happened?! Where are we?! How did you do that?!

-You quickly gathered all the berries at light speed, making sure that you got back before Jamil realized that you were gone

-Kalim wasn’t scared of you, rather impressed that you were able to keep a secret for that long, he could never!

-You’re already super cool, and on top of this you have otherwordly powers!

- “It must’ve been stressful living your life like this! But don’t worry, I’ll keep your secret!”

-Yes he sometimes asks you to perform some of your powers for him, sorry Y/N-

Vil:

-While you were his friend, he was incredibly suspicious of you

-Even though you wiped everyone’s memory, he still had the faint memory of when he was in overblot mode of you blasting him with a beam of light

-Vil was incredibly upset as one of his assistants had mixed up his items, and left one of his vital skincare items on the set of where they were filming a new commercial

-It was being shipped and would take 3 days to reach NRC

-His mood was horrible and you had to do something about it to give grace to the Pomefiore dorm

-So you went to the second story of the Pomefiore dorm, ready to use Apport (the power to pull anything before you) 

-However, Vil felt incredibly guilty

-He was acting like a child and he shouldn’t have taken it out on the people who he loves and values

- “Y/N, how I was acting was incredibly inappropriate and- is that my moisturizer? How did you get it?”

-Starts freaking out as this was impossible as it was on it’s way from being shipped from another country

-This was the last straw for him ther was no justification for this that wasn't done by some form of magic

-He takes you to his room to make you sit down and give him an explanation for this

-Once you finished, Vil understood but was still freaked out

-He cares alot about keeping your powers a secret and will cover for you

-"So my aport powers need to exchange something of equal value so... I exchanged it with that Scucci purse over there-

-"MY LIMITED EDITION SCUCCI PURSE?!"

-He loves you, but you're dead to him, Y/N dear

Idia:

-Before he knew you, he didn't really notice anything off with you

-A little quiet sure but he minded his own business, he had bigger things to focus on

-Until you hung around Ignihyde more often for a project, fixing a huge generator by yourself for one of your partners for a project

-They took a break only after you told them that they could and apprehensive went to go get food and water

-Anyone with eyes could see that there's an overbearing amount of energy flowing through the fairly large sized cube

-Wait, you were wearing no gloves, you could get electrocuted! Why would have your bare hands on something like that?!

-Just as he was able to yell, it was too late, your whole body was flowing with the bright blue energy... and then you let go

-You were walking completely fine, you went and held a random wire on the ground, placing the electricity inside

-The static from your hair was gone, and you looked completely normal. . .

-Just what the hell are you?

-He did hours of research trying to figure you out, even sending Ortho to monitor you

-Yet there was nothing, you were just a “regular teen” 

-Was ready to get S.T.Y.X.S on your ass- (is that too soon to joke abt my bad overblot boys-)

-Until one day he caught you again bending electricity to your will

-Is incredibly impressed with your power (lowkey wanting to experiment on you)

-After he realizes that you can read minds Idia is so damn frightened

- “O-Okay I promise not to say anything, just don’t tell anyone what I’m thinking a-alright?!”

Malleus:

-You were one of the only people who he trusted

-Malleus had always detected some form of magical aura that was otherworldly from you and it never seemed to fade

-And it wasn’t often, but it was almost like you knew what he was thinking

-Whenever he was deeply upset he felt a twinge of energy from you, and then you would insist and help him out with his problems

-And he flat out says “Are you reading my mind, Y/N?”

-You had never been directly outed like this before, you felt horrible 

-You never read people’s minds unless it was very necessary

-whenever Malleus felt deeply gloomy you felt like it was important to just read his mind and help him with the problem

-You explained it to him and apologized, but he wasn’t upset

-In fact, he was smiling?

- “It seems like we have alot of things that we’re hiding from each other. But... you always had the best intentions whenever you used your abilities”

-He let out a sigh and reluctantly admitted, “And, I know that I’m quite stubborn with revealing my feelings.” 

- “I will keep your secret as long as you keep mine, Child of Man,” the dragon fae said, you both shaking on it

- “I always had a feeling that you were special, but I never thought it would be something of this caliber...” 

[kohanayaki]

.:Time and Time Again:. (Marauders Era x Reader) Ch 4

Snape looks back on your days at Hogwarts, how your friendship came to be, and how it came to end.

LINKS:   CH 1   CH 2    CH 3   CH 4  CH 5   CH 6   CH 7   CH 8

___________________________________________________________

Ch 4  .:Budding Feelings and the Beginning of the End:.

Severus Snape had made a lot of mistakes in his life, and seeing you again after all these years was forcing him to relive every single one of them.

He stared blankly at the wall in front of him, shrouded in the darkness and grim silence of his empty house. He never thought he'd see you again, and certainly not under these circumstances. When he'd laid his eyes on you in the kitchen of 12 Grimmauld place he couldn't believe it. He, much like the rest of the Order (except for Molly, apparently) assumed you wouldn't be at these meetings any longer. After James and Lily were murdered and Sirius was thrown into Azkaban, you'd left London and headed to New York under the Ministry's alliance with MACUSA, hoping to help bridge the gap between muggle-borns and purebloods in America. He knew you had been back to meet Harry a handful of times, but he also knew that being in this city brought up painful memories for you, so he was as stunned as anyone else to see you standing there in the doorway, greeting them as if nothing were out of the ordinary.

He could see that traveling had been good for you. He'd heard through the Hogwarts circuit that you were back on auror duty across the world, taking special assignments from Dumbledore and the Minister for Magic himself. You seemed like you were doing better, but when you turned to smile at him he could see the hesitation and the sadness that brewed behind your eyes, likely his doing.

He desperately wanted things to go back to what they were before—

Before he'd ruined it. . .

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~   1974  ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Alright students,” Professor Slughorn said as everyone finished filing inside the room, “today we're going to be pairing off into new partners for the upcoming project.”

Groans and nervous chatter flooded the sound space immediately, no one very thrilled with having to work with someone new out of their control. You cast a glance over to Lily who looked equally displeased. You liked being her partner, you both excelled at the subject and worked really well together.

“Yes, yes, I know,” Slughorn said, waving the complaints off, “However, I am going to be giving you the luxury of choosing your own partners this time, but everyone—”

The energy in the room instantly shifted, everyone shoving around people to get to their friends.

“—keep in mind, if I see any slacking off or trouble brewing in these new partnerships I will not hesitate to rearrange them!”

Slughorns's words were completely lost among the commotion as people paired off before you could even get your bearings. Snape stalled as he stared at you from across the room; Lily had already been dragged away by Mary, and his brain was trying to work out how to ask you to be his partner.

Suddenly an arm was slung over your shoulder and you turned towards the new presence in surprise. You looked up to see Evan Rosier, the sleeves of his shirt rolled up to his elbows and his Slytherin tie loose around his neck.

Oh, sod it, Snape cursed internally. He was too late.

“Wanna partner up?” Rosier asked, a crooked grin gracing his chiseled features, “It'd be my honor to have the smartest Potions partner in class, not to mention the most attractive.”

You rolled your eyes at the praise. Evan was your friend, and he was nice to look at, but if he thought that you would be willing to do all the work for the both of you in exchange for some cheap compliments, then he had another thing coming. You locked eyes with Snape from across the room

“It would be your honor,” you smirked up at Rosier, “but I already have a partner, sorry.”

It took Snape a few seconds to realize what you were doing, but once he snapped out of it he made his way towards you. You almost chuckled at how robotic he looked as he did, clearly shocked.

Rosier looked between the two of you and rolled his eyes.

“Suit yourself, sweetheart,” he said, letting you go and pushing you lightly in Snape's direction, “but if you change your mind, you know where to find me.” He sent a wink your way that left Snape's blood inexplicably boiling,

“Thanks for that,” you grinned, “and just so you know, I would have chosen you even if he didn't come up to me, so don't get all pouty about it, okay?”

Severus just looked at you blankly. Even after four years it was frightening how well you were able to read him; for a moment he was scared that he'd accidentally projected his thoughts to you, but he wasn't anywhere near that level of legillemency yet. He wanted to say something that had some semblance of gratitude but settled on:

“Whatever.”

To which you just laughed and dragged him to your now shared desk.

You really were something else.

“Now then,” Professor Slughorn addressed the room, “today we will be beginning the new unit on toxic concoctions, starting with the Draught of Living Death. If you would all turn to page ten of your books, we will get started presently.”

You turned open your book and Severus did the same. As he did, you noticed that nearly every page was covered in small notes littering the margins, with some of the instructions circled, crossed out, or modified. You were hardly surprised, Snape had been pouring over this book since last year when he'd stolen it from a fifth year Slytherin who'd been speaking poorly of you (that last part you were unaware of).

You turned your attention to the directions, reaching over to preheat the burner so your cauldron would be hot enough by the time you began. However, as soon as you lit the flame with the tip of your wand, your cauldron shot up into the air, hitting the ceiling with a loud BANG! before crashing down back onto your table, breaking several of the glass instruments that were settled there.

Your face burned embarrassment as everyone in the room turned to look at you in shock.

“Snape, (L/n),” Slughorn said, surprised, “whatever happened?”

“I. . .” you began, not knowing what to say, “I don't know, I'm sorry, Professor.”

“Quite all right,” he said uncertainly, restoring your table and equipment with a wave of his wand, “just be sure whatever that was doesn't happen again.”

“Of course,” you mumbled, trying to ignore the snickering around you. If you noticed the way that it stopped as soon as Snape sent a deathly glare at the culprits, you didn't show it. You reached down to grab your cauldron, noticing that the bottom was dusted in some sort of orange powder. As you turned it over, a note fell out of it.

You're welcome, (L/n). Sorry I couldn't be there for the fireworks~

J.P.

“That sneaky little, ugh,” you crumpled the note, growling in frustration.

“What is it?” Severus asked, peering over your shoulder to glance at the paper. However, as soon as you tried to show it to him it vanished in your hands in a wisp of glowing embers. You turned to look at Severus who was still staring at you expectantly.

“It was Potter,” you rolled your eyes.

Anger flashed in Severus' eyes before confusion replaced it momentarily.

“But that was your cauldron, not mine. Why would Potter want to mess with you?”

And now the anger was back again. Snape was used to Potter’s crew targeting him; bullying and suffering through minor hexes had become an everyday occurrence, but when he imagined them doing anything to you it was enough to make him see red.

“Ah, well. . .” you trailed off, deciding that telling him you'd yelled at the group of Gryffindors: 'if you jerks want to have a go at Severus you're gonna have to get through me first!' was a bad idea.

“I sort of, maybe, kind of. . . started it?” you said. Severus raised a brow at you. “Look, Potter was asking for it, okay? It was about time someone messed with him for a change. And besides, it was hilarious, even Lily got a kick out of watching that broom hit him in the head.”

Severus chuckled at that, a hint of pride welling in his chest at yours and Lily's shared distaste for the Potter boy.

“But that was the last straw,” you declared, grabbing a Sopophorus bean from the bowl in front of you and a knife to cut it as per the instructions, “I'm sick and tired of him acting like he's better than everyone else,” you said, stabbing down with your knife for emphasis. The Sopophorus bean jumped as you did, sliding out from under your blade and skidding across your cutting board. You huffed as you grabbed it again, placing it back down and holding it in place. “And he walks around with that little posse of his like he runs this school!” You brought your knife down again, moving your fingers at the last second, but the bean still managed to slip away, trying to bounce back into the bowl.

“This means war!” you seethed, grabbing the runaway legume again, now at your wit's end, and crushing it in your fist. It stopped jumping as the beet-red juice of the plant dripped down your arm, and Severus looked at you with a small smirk on his face.

“Well, that's one way to do it,” he said.

“Shove off,” you said playfully, throwing the bean in his direction. He dodged it easily, his smile growing.

“No, really,” he said, almost more to himself than you as he scribbled out the word 'cut' and replaced it with 'crush' in his notebook, “you might be better at this than you let on.”

You blushed at the unexpected compliment, backhanded as it was.

“Excuse you, I happen to be fantastic at Potions,” you said, grabbing another bean and avoiding his gaze.

“Right, that's why your cauldron exploded.”

“That was sabotage,” you shot back.

“I was talking about last week,” Severus said cheekily, taking in your flustered expression.

You both went back to your ingredients, eventually discovering that crushing the beans with the flat of a knife was the best way to extract the juice without them jumping. You watched Severus out of the corner of your eye as he measured out the African Sea water, adding it gradually as he stirred the mixture counter-clockwise. The elixir turned a bright blue color, shimmering as if light were being reflected off of it. He continued on with the formula, snapping off a few fluxweed sprigs before adding them and lowering the heat with his wand, hardly looking at the instructions at all.

You wondered where this newfound confidence had come from. Severus was usually so rigid and withdrawn, but right now he looked more at ease than you had ever seen him. A spark was present in his eyes as he worked that you rarely ever saw, and it made you smile despite yourself.

The rest of your potion making process went on without a hitch, and you silently applauded yourself as you watched the other students around you struggle to get their concoctions together. Even Lily seemed to be having trouble, though Mary wasn't really helping other than offering moral support.

You turned back to focus on your own potion, stirring it with the ladle and mesmerized by the way it began to turn a deep plum color. Meanwhile, Severus was cleaning up your shared station, looking over at the brew. His brows furrowed as he examined it.

“Just stir it a bit more,” he said, coming up behind you and placing his hand on top of yours, “the color is still off.”

Your face burned at the unexpected contact; Snape certainly wasn't a touchy person, so the act caught you completely off guard, though you'd be lying if you said you didn't like it. Severus nearly jumped backwards, absolutely mortified when he realized what he was doing. It was him micromanaging more than anything; he was so focused on getting the potion right he didn't even notice he was moving his own body as he gave you the instruction.

“Sorry,” he said, feeling quite possibly the lamest he'd ever felt in his life.

“It's okay,” you said, biting the inside of your lip nervously and continuing to stir like he said. Your light response allowed Snape to relax, his shoulders lowering a full three inches. He'd been certain you would have reacted to his mistake with disgust or repulsion, but you didn't. What did that mean? You were utterly confusing. Despite how well you could read him, Severus was unable to get a read on you at all. If he had been, he would have noticed the tiny smile on your face as you stirred, silently wishing his hand were back on yours.

You and Snape stood at attention as Slughorn peered down at your potion, looking mildly impressed. He reached into his robes, procuring an oak leaf from who knows where, and dropped it into your cauldron. The leaf floated on top of the liquid for just a moment before its edges began to burn. It furled from the unseen heat, folding in on itself and disappearing into the inky depths of the liquid. Slughorn's expression lit up, his impression no longer mild.

“Merlin's beard, it's perfect!” he exclaimed, “in all my years I've never seen a pair recreate this potion exactly as you two have done today.”

You beamed at the praise, your smile only widening as you saw your emotions mirrored in Severus' face, albeit more subtly.

Over the course of your fourth year, you and Snape continued to excel in Potions, receiving much praise from Professor Slughorn and a lot of glares from your fellow students. However, there was something else that continued that year, and that was your increasing interactions with James Potter.

“I just don't get why you even bother with him,” Snape had said to you one day while you were in Potions. Your prank war with James was at its peak, and you were sidetracked that day in class coming up with new ideas to get back at him.

“It's a full on battle now, Sev,” you said, “I can't back down! Now, for my next one I was thinking something along the lines of a callback to one of his earlier stunts. Maybe get him back for tampering with my cauldron at the beginning the year.”

“(Y/n)—”

“I've got a few friends in Gryffindor, and apparently he talks about his prank plans way too loudly in the common room, so I have a head start on this one. They mentioned something about my shampoo—“

“(Y/n),” Severus stressed, finally catching your attention. You looked up at him, embarrassed at you rambling. “Why do you keep doing this?” he asked, “he's just baiting you. You know that.”

“It keeps them from doing anything that targets you, right?” you questioned back.

Severus didn't know what to say at that. It was true, ever since you had declared war on James, he and his stupid friends hadn't really bothered with him at all. Were you doing this for him? He didn't know what to do with the thought.

You were, of course, but you thought it better not to mention that in the last few months this had been going on, you'd also begun to find the rivalry and banter between you and James fun.

“Gather 'round students, gather 'round!” Slughorn beckoned the class over, disrupting your train of thought and putting an end to your conversation, “now, would anyone like to identify the potion in this cauldron here?” He gestured to a shockingly pink liquid that seemed to swirl on its own. Plum and periwinkle smoke wafted through the air above it in delicate spirals.

“That's Amortentia,” Lily said, “it's a love potion that's supposed to smell different to everyone depending on what scents attract them.”

“Right you are, Miss Evans,” Slughorn said proudly, “would you like to tell us what you smell?”

“Cinnamon,” she started slowly, “warm spices, butterbeer, sandalwood. . .” her cheeks reddened significantly, as if she'd made some sort of realization. “Th-that's all.” You stared at her quizzically but she just shook her head. You'd have to ask her about this later. . .

“(L/n),” Slughorn said, “would you be so kind as to do the same?”

“Sure,” you said, stepping up to the cauldron. It was captivating, almost drawing you in physically. “Wild lavender,” you said, smiling, your mother had a garden full of them when you were growing up, “rain when it hits the pavement, and old leather books.” Scents you wouldn't realize until much later all correlated with a certain person.

“Very different scents for very different people,” Professor Slughorn said, “thank you for demonstrating, you two. Now, we will not be brewing this potion today for obvious reasons. It is incredibly dangerous, capable of creating not true love, but unhinged obsession. What we will be doing, however, is studying its effects. . .”

“Strongest love potion in the world, huh?” Evan suddenly appeared at your side, “funny, I could have sworn it smelled just like you, although you wouldn't need a potion to reign me in~”

“Put a sock in it, Rosier,” you said, shoving him away playfully.

“Aw, come on, just one date wouldn't hurt,” he said, “I'm pulling out all my best lines here!”

“That's the best you've got?”

“Ouch.”

Snape couldn't help but glare at the Slytherin boy, not liking how close he was to you. Nice as he seemed, Snape knew how he could really be. He didn't think you'd be such good friends with Rosier if you knew he was knee deep in the dark arts as soon as the sun set on the castle. Then again, Severus wasn't one to talk.

Over the course of the year he noticed that you only grew closer to James, something that bothered him immensely. He was grateful that you had gotten his bullying to stop, but he hated that the way you had gone about it was to turn Potter into a friend. . .

“Merlin, he keeps looking over at you, Lils,” you said.

Lily and Severus looked over to where James sat with Sirius, Remus, and Peter in their corner table as usual. Somehow they always managed to be at The Three Broomsticks at the exact same time as your trio, almost as if they knew you were there. James Potter was, in fact, looking towards your table, until your friends not-so-discreetly turned to look at him and he diverted his gaze elsewhere.

“Idiot,” you rolled your eyes as you took another sip of your butterbeer.

Lily looked between you and James' table for a moment before turning back to you.

“Actually, (Y/n), he's staring at you.”

You looked at her like she'd grown a second head but then began to laugh.

“Is he? Jeeze, what a creep,” you said, but with affection in your voice that wasn't missed by Severus, “it's probably because I saved his ass the other day and he's still reeling from it.”

“Oh,” she said, a hint of what you swore was relief in her tone until she realized what you said, “Wait, you what?”

“Sirius and I were talking in the forest and we got ambushed by Malfoy's motley crew,” you said, “and Potter showed up because of course he did. It was just a little duel, no big deal.”

“What?!” Lily said, concern written all over her face, “they fancy the dark arts, (Y/n), you could have been hurt!”

Severus stared into his drink, unable to look at either of you.

“I'm fine, Lils,” you insisted, “and trust me, I don't think Malfoy's going to be bothering anyone anymore. Just show him a picture of a squid and he'll probably screech like a banshee.”

Lily laughed along with you, partially in confusion, until the first part of your statement hit her with a slight delay.

“Hold on, you were in the forest with Black? And did you just call him Sirius?” she asked, her teasing making your face flush.

“We just. . . figured some stuff out. . . It was nothing like what you're thinking, so drop it,” you grumbled, taking another drink to hide your embarrassed face.

“Whatever you say, (Y/n),” Lily sang, taking a sip of her own drink.

Severus felt jealousy bubble up in him like a disease. He cast his gaze upwards, his eyes locking momentarily with James'. His arch rival rose a cocky brow at him, his gaze unmistakably shifting to you and Lily before staring Snape down again. Severus took a sharp breath to steel himself, that feeling in the pit of his stomach never really going away.

That was the beginning of the end.

Read chapter 5 here!

Taglist:  @sleep-i-ness, @blackpinkdolan, @parker-natasha, @ornella0910 @undertaker1827 @thatwierdo-koemi @nxstalgicnxbxdy

[alpacaparkaseok]

Shut Eye

pairing/genre: idol!Yoongi x reader, fluff

premise: In a world where every night you meet your soulmate in your dreams only to forget their face and voice when you wake up, you’re now more desperate than ever to find them.

word count: 2.6k

a/n: I was listening to the piano version of ‘For Forever’ from Dear Evan Hansen while writing this...so maybe that explains it?? THIS IS SOOO CHEESY YOU GUYS

requested by anon - thanks for the fun request, hope you enjoy! a picture of your ask/request will be at the bottom of the post. Thank you!

_________________________________

You awoke with a gasp, the covers flung aside in an effort to grab the notebook and pen you kept handy on your nightstand. Not bothering to flip on the lamp, you used the little moonlight filtering in through your window to write down the events of your dream.

You spent most nights in the dreamscape with your soulmate, his face and voice a blurry mess in your mind. The two of you would talk for hours, that much you know. The general idea of the conversation would stick with you as well, but beyond anything else, you’d wake up with the same familiar feeling.

The specific brand of heartbreak that tends to accompany goodbyes. 

Tonight’s dream had been something entirely different, though. Try as you might, your mind can’t seem to conjure up the exact words your soulmate had so calmly whispered in your ear as you stood on a red carpet facing innumerable flashing cameras. However, one thing was for certain.

He was trying to send you a message. 

He was trying to find you out in this big world. 

You’ve made a bullet-point list now, with the words red carpet, famous?? and beautiful suit starting off the list. As the list continued on, you only grew more and more confused. Why did your soulmate choose that dreamscape? After years of the usual sitting room and long chats, something must have happened to make him change.

Frustrated, you scanned last night’s notes to see if anything out of the ordinary had happened. You nearly gave up before one of the final bullet-points caught your attention.

we talked about family

did we talk about our family??

Eyebrows scrunched and lips pouted, you wracked your brain for any recollection of the conversation from the night before. Indeed, you remembered waking up with the distinct feeling of discussing future baby names, but for the life of you, you couldn’t remember what he had said he liked. What you did remember was that it was a name that had made you laugh, and that he had been upset about it for the rest of the evening. 

Not too upset, though. He’d still quietly warned you in the way he always did when he knew he was about to wake up. Softly lacing his hand through yours, running his thumb over the back of your knuckles until in the blink of an eye he was gone. 

There had been several occasions when you’d woken up still feeling the ghost of his hand on yours.

The notebook in your hands glared up at you, an unwelcome reminder that you were nowhere near close to understanding the meaning of your most recent dream. 

Normally, you would have just let it go. But today was different. Today you woke up just knowing that he had meant something by the dream. The way he’d brought you out on that red carpet, your arm linked through his as he led you toward a group that was already posing for pictures-

Wait. A group? You’d forgotten that part. Another bullet-point was added to the growing list.

part of a group (friends?)

Your eyes drifted shut as you tried to remember any more details, the ways the cameras flashed seemed to impair your vision as you’d looked at the group that had smiled as you neared. One of them had made some extra space for you and your soulmate, and you’d nearly keeled over when you saw who it was.

But who was it?

You sighed, scribbling one last bullet-point before your brain quit functioning.

I recognized the friends - famous?

It was a bit discouraging to look down at the list and see so many question marks, but you paid it no mind as you tossed your notebook back onto the nightstand and found the strength to get up for the day. 

You’d just have to wait until the next dream.

•••••••••••••••••••••••

“I have no idea where this is going,” you admitted while staring up at the ceiling,  sprawled out on your bed. “But I just know that he’s trying to tell me something. You know?”

Your best friend, Ji-eun, just laughed on the other side. “I’m sure he was...but honestly, who knows? Maybe he just wanted a change of scenery.”

“Ugh. You’re no fun.”

“Well, I hate to break it to you, but no more fun for you tonight. I’ve got to go to bed. Got to wake up early tomorrow, remember? It’s a big day.”

“Oh, that’s right! Are you nervous?”

You’d nearly forgotten that your best friend was also one of South Korea’s most beloved singers. On most days, you forgot her stage name, too. 

“No, not really. I just usually hate having to sit there by myself, you know? There are so many groups, and them I’m just by myself. Looking beautiful.”

“Aww, poor IU, all alone.” You teased. “I’d go with you, but-”

In an instant, Ji-eun, or IU, squealed and you knew that she had an idea. “Yes! Come with me!! I’ll sneak you in! You won’t even have to worry about the red carpet- wait.”

You winced, having held the phone at a distance from your ear so as to not immediately lose your hearing. “Oh no, now what? You know I’m not fit for award shows, Ji-eun.”

“Didn’t you say that your dream was on the red carpet?”

You blinked. “Yeah.”

“Sooo,” Ji-eun dragged out, “Maybe you’ll see him.”

A wry laugh escaped you. “What makes you think he would recognize me even if he was there? Or that I would recognize him?”

IU made an indecisive noise. “Well, you already described his beautiful suit-”

“Hey, no teasing. It was absolutely gorgeous.”

“Exactly! If there’s a guy that shows up wearing that suit, then maybe that’s him! And, maybe he’s part of a group! You would recognize the group if you saw them, wouldn’t you?”

“You’re just trying to get me to come with you,” you drawled, ignoring the little spark of hope. 

“Obviously. Hey, you know that really pretty red dress you bought not that long ago?”

“Yeah.”

“Wear that, and work your dreamscape magic or something to help him remember the red dress. He’ll recognize you when he sees you tomorrow!”

With an eye roll you’re pretty sure Ji-eun heard through the phone, you groaned. “If he’s even there. If.”

“So you’ll do it?”

In the end, it was the memory of having to say goodbye every morning without even remembering who you were saying goodbye to that had you agreeing. 

••••••••••••••••••

Falling into your dreams had always felt more like waking up, the urge to stretch and run around almost too much to deny. Tonight, you entered the familiar sitting room that you’d frequented nearly every night for the past few years.

Your soulmate is waiting for you when you enter, his back turned to you.

A part of you knows that the two of you have been through this many times before. You’ve technically met your soulmate hundreds of times - maybe even thousands at this point. But every night, it’s the same little feeling of anticipation as you wait for him to turn around. 

Always wondering who it might be. Always dreading the moment you wake up and forget his face all over again, waiting for the next dream to identify him.

He’s in the black, lightly checkered suit that he wore last night, not a single strand of his black hair out of place as he turns around with wide eyes.

Your breath is momentarily caught in your throat as you suddenly recognize him, not only from the previous dreams but from nearly everywhere else in the waking world. 

“Hey,” Yoongi mumbles, a soft smile gracing his lips as he looks at you. “You look beautiful.”

You looks down at the red dress you’re wearing, the same one you’re planning on wearing at the award show. Nodding at his suit, you grin.

“Are you wearing that to the award show today?”

He nods, stepping toward you. “I wish you could go, I know that I’d be able to find you-”

“I am.”

Yoongi stops, his mouth slightly open. He takes a single step toward you. “You are? How?”

“Ji-eun is my best friend, remember?”

He takes a moment to recall that tidbit of information about you, nodding. “So...we’ll see each other.”

“I hope so.” You tilt your head. “But will you recognize me? It was so hard for me to remember any details after last night’s dream, I feel like it’s getting harder.”

“I think it is,” Yoongi agrees, striding over to you and grabbing your hand even as a light pink dusts over his cheeks. “But I don’t think I’ll be able to forget this dress.” With a wink that belies his shy nature, Yoongi leads you out onto the red carpet, where cameras are waiting. 

He walks you through the event, glancing at you every few seconds as though afraid that you’ll disappear at any moment. That’s certainly a valid concern - it’s happened plenty of times.

You’ve just made it to where the rest of the members are standing when you feel the tell-tale pull back toward reality. 

You’ll be waking up at any moment now. Most likely because of that pesky nest of birds that have decided to camp out just outside of your windows. 

Instinctively your grip on Yoongi’s arm tightens, and he turns to you. He can tell by the look in your eyes that you’re about to leave.

“What if it doesn’t work?” You blurt out, taking in every last detail of him. From the way his cheeks are still pink to the fit of his suit. 

Yoongi absolutely shocks you as he presses a chaste kiss to your forehead, pulling you a little closer. His breath that dusts over your ear feels so real as he whispers gently to you.

“We’ll find a way. I promise.”

•••••••••••••••••••

It was the same dream as the night before; the same infuriating goodbye that seeped into your bones as you hurtled awake. However, this time, you could have sworn that you recalled a puppy-dog gaze that was begging you to remember him as you left the dreamscape.

You’d worn the red dress you currently had on, the red lace falling just below your knees. A part of you remembered the way your soulmate had reacted when you’d waltzed into the dreamscape, the way you had casually linked your arm through his as you walked onto the red carpet.

Today you couldn’t find the energy to write anything in your full notebook, opting to bury your head in your hands.

“Who are you?” You groaned. The feeling of his soft lips against your forehead has you sighing, wishing that you could replay it all over again. After shooting a glare at the red dress hanging in your closet, you grabbed your notebook to write down one note before getting up.

We love each other

•••••••••••••••••••

Ji-eun - er, IU, instructed you to wait for her at the entrance to the photo-op portion of the red carpet. She would be busy doing little interviews before that, which honestly didn’t seem that appealing to you. 

Especially not when you were so nervous you thought you were going to throw up.

Staring down at your red dress, you nearly jumped out of your skin when there was a hand on your shoulder.

“Ha! You’re jumpy today,” IU teased, “I wonder why.”

“Oh good, you’re finished.” You ignored her tease, happy to get moving. “You look amazing.”

It wasn’t a surprise, but she still deserved to be complimented. IU looked absolutely ethereal in her flowy green gown, the two of you looking like some sort of Christmas ad. 

“You look great as well!” She motioned toward the carpet. “I think we’re just after this group. Ready?”

Armed with a smile and your best friend at your side, you ventured onto the carpet. It was easier than you though it would be; most of the time you were stepping aside to allow the photographers a clear view of IU.

You’ve nearly made it to the end when a fresh round of screaming picks up. 

There’s only one group that can command that much attention.

You couldn’t help but crane your neck as you see BTS walk onto the carpet, just a couple of groups behind you. Your eyes widened on their own accord when you saw them, unable to shake the feeling of having met them before. 

Of course, they pay you no mind. However, you couldn’t help but chuckle at the way Suga took a moment to get up on his tippy-toes, looking around. You went to point it out to IU, nobody paying either of you any mind as you walk off the carpet. You lost all ability to speak, however, as you took a closer look.

It’s the suit. 

The one that is checkered with a light gray, the one that fit your soulmate just right. 

It’s the black hair that’s perfectly styled. 

And as Suga turned to look your way, you didn’t miss the way his eyes caught on your red dress.

Almost like he had been looking for a red dress.

In the span of a single heartbeat, you made eye contact with the idol, the same question lingering in your eyes. 

For Min Yoongi, that’s all it took. 

Abandoning all precepts, he took off down the carpet, heading straight toward you. From the way the other members took one look at you and your red dress and immediately began speaking to those present, you knew that they’d been waiting for this. Knew that they weren’t planning on keeping this low-key, because there was no real way to do that. 

Not as Yoongi saw you and knew. 

You managed to take three steps toward him before he was before you, grinning with his gummy smile even as his ears turned red. 

“Quick,” Yoongi breathed out, reaching down to take your hands in his. “If it’s really you, tell me what name we can’t agree on for a girl.”

The question threw you off guard, making you laugh. But after a moment, you found with a gasp that you remember.

You remembered everything.

The way the two of you first awkwardly stumbled into the dreamscape at the age of nineteen. How you eventually opened up to each other, grew to care deeply about the other. 

You remembered the nights when the two of you were rambunctious and laughing at stupid stories Yoongi told you about the boys. 

You remembered the nights when you sat in silence, dreading the moment you would have to wake up.

And you remembered that just a few days ago, Yoongi had brought up family. You’d spent the night talking about how many children you’d want, how you’d raise them, what you’d name them.

And there was one horrible name that he loved and you hated, and neither of you were willing to budge on it.

“Ugh,” you groaned even as you smiled. “We are not naming her Pearl! It would make her sound like a pirate ship!”

The cameras flashed, which made Yoongi’s eyes glimmer as he laughed along with you. Then, without a care in the world except for knowing for certain that it was all real, Yoongi tugged you closer until your foreheads touched and all you could see were his dark eyes pulling you in.

“I told you we’d find a way.”

Hundreds of cameras flashed, documenting the moment and effectively labeling it a dream come true.

masterlist

[apprentice-maliya]

the things you don’t say, i’ll make them mine

pairing: asra/mali’ya cw: none, just some pre-plague, light angst and fluff because i am self-indulgent and i missed them. also stargazing (kinda). enjoy ! word count: 2.2k song(s): lover and the archer by taylor swift

With a snap of Asra’s fingers, the candles in the shop lit up all at once. The sudden light was almost blinding in their eyes, still used to the dark shades of the storm hovering above the city that merged into the soft, pink and orange hues of sundown. Behind him, Mali’ya sealed the door with a spell so that the rain wouldn’t get in, leaving at least the shop alone and dry.

The golden mark was still glowing on the wooden surface when she turned to her friend, pleased to see that he had already put the bags in a corner where they wouldn’t bother them. In the meantime, Faust had slowly emerged from the worn-out scarf he was wearing, and was now taking a careful peek at her surroundings.

Asra laughed, shaking his head to let the raindrops fall away from his white curls. “That was close.”

“Please don’t do that,” Mali’ya said, though she was soon betrayed by her own amusement when a small smile appeared on her lips. She gladly accepted Asra’s hands holding hers, shivering when the heat coming from his warming spell dried out any trace of damp in her clothes and her hair as well. Once he was done, Mali’ya sighed in relief.

“We should clean up,” she suggested, taking off her shoes since, in the hurry of getting inside and taking refuge from the storm, she’d forgotten to. “I’m sure we left some mud when we walked in.”

Asra waved a hand as to dismiss the option. “Or we could get away with it with little to no effort,” he suggested before the stains disappeared from the blue-coloured tiles with another snap of fingers, as if they’d never been there in the first place.

He rubbed his hands one against the other, giving her a satisfied look. “Easy peasy, right?” Asra grinned. “Now, let’s set up camp for the night.”

Mali’ya stared at the floor—she still wasn’t that accustomed to using magic to solve even the smallest inconvenience, and it showed—but upon hearing that, she glanced at him in confusion. “What do you mean?”

Rummaging in their bags as he was probably searching for their blankets, Asra shrugged. “Seems like a waste of a lovely night to me, don’t you think?”

She could tell he was smiling while saying that, still Mali’ya hesitated. It wasn’t like she didn’t appreciate the idea; on the contrary, she was eager to see what Asra had in store for her with that change of plans. After all, aside from the couple of nights she’d slept in the wild, on the run to Vesuvia with her aunt and her girlfriend, Mali’ya had no idea what camping really implied: Asra had told her about gathering your own food, sharing stories around the fireplace and stargazing as though it was nothing out of the ordinary for him, and, in hindsight, Mali’ya now realised that wasn’t but his everyday life. The life of someone who had nothing else in the world but himself.

In comparison, the years she’d spent in Venterre were a walk in the park.

Would you like to come live with me?

Her lips parted without her thinking. Once, almost a year back from that moment―a lifetime, really―her aunt had asked her that same, exact question. For the first time someone had brought up the possibility for her to dream, provided the instruments for her to make her own choices, and there she was, months later, living her happiest days in a place she’d learnt to call home.

All of that because at some point, someone cared.

It was truly that simple.

I could ask him now.

“Besides,” Asra added, silently commanding one end of a jute string to tie itself around the knob of the backroom door, before he pointed his digits towards the entrance handle for the other end to do the same, “I wanted to show you some cool tricks.”

Mali’ya watched as he tossed a sheet over the tensed thread, thinking that they definitely needed something heavy to secure the cloth on the floor if they wanted something close to a tent-shaped, homemade fort, or even one of her bedsheets so it would be easier to make it wider and more comfortable for the two of them.

All things considered, there was enough space in her room for another bed.

Finally, she spoke. “We should ask aunt—”

A voice coming down from the stairs interrupted her mid-sentence, before the thin silhouette of her tutor, neatly wrapped up in her frilly pink housecoat, appeared on the landing. “Ask me what?” She inquired, throwing them an inquisitive though sleepy glance.

“Sorry for waking you.” Mali’ya immediately apologised, bending down the string to approach her. “We were on the way to the clearing you showed us last time when the storm hit, and then we...”

In that moment, as to prove the truth in her words, a thunder echoed above them, followed by the even more violent sloshing of rainpour against the rooftop. Heralia looked up with a sigh, not at all impressed with the tantrums of summer, then noticed the blanket hanging sideways on the jute thread. “And I get that you don’t intend to give up on your stargazing, is that right?”

“That was my idea,” Asra stepped in, kneeling down to place one of the doorstops on the hem of the blanket. “You suggested that we studied the constellations in detail since the sky is clearer and it’s meteor shower season. Shall we perhaps postpone our lesson?” he challenged her, staring at his mentor with an innocent smile and a cunning glint in the eyes.

Heralia scoffed. “Do as you please, I don’t care.” A yawn ran past her lips, so she turned around with a shrug to climb up the stairs and go back to the comfort of her bed. “Just make sure you fall asleep at a reasonable hour and put everything back in place before opening, tomorrow.”

“We will, I promise.” Mali’ya nodded, surprised at how easily her aunt had given in this time. “Thank you, and goodnight.” Heralia hummed something in return that she didn’t quite catch, but since her mentor didn’t repeat herself Mali’ya supposed it was nothing important.

Clasping her hands together, she looked down at Faust, who was slithering around freely on the floor now that her aunt was gone. “Wait,” she told Asra, “Let’s use my bedsheets for the tent.”

- - -

Half an hour later, sitting comfortably amongst soft pillows and a couple of warm blankets, Mali’ya traced carefully each word printed on the astronomy book that lied open on her lap.

“What is…” she started, squinting in the dim glow of the small ball of light floating just above Asra’s hand. “What is an ‘Equinox’?”

“That’s when day and night have more or less the same duration,” he explained, stretching his limbs by her side like a cat that just woke up after a long nap. He couldn’t help a yawn. “Equinoxes mark the start of spring and autumn, so they happen twice a year.”

At that, something in Mali’ya’s chest fluttered with triumph. “Oh! I think I got it.”

With half-lidded eyes, Asra followed the movements of the quill in her personal journal as she wrote down the definition. “You want me to spell it out for you?”

“Yes, please.” Her voice was nothing but a bashful whisper.

A hand ran up to tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear as she nodded again, jade eyes steady on every letter in fear of messing them up. He couldn't really see it, but a hint of blush painted her cheeks with something akin to shame; there was still so much she had to learn after all, and since Asra was way ahead of her in terms of magic knowledge, she always felt like she was only slowing him down.

“How do you say that in Venterrean?”

She didn’t even lift her eyes from the page. “Rivnodennya.”

Her handwriting was still unsure, he noticed from where he was lying, almost childlike and adorned with ink stains and spelling mistakes; but despite that, a pleased little smile had come to grace her lips, together with a quiet satisfaction that danced in her eyes every time she made some progress. Shyly, a pair of small dimples also appeared on her freckled cheeks, matching his own.

Pretty.

“And Solstice?”

Mali’ya still wasn’t looking at him, and a moment passed before she was done writing. Finally, she closed her handwritten dictionary with a soft thud. “Sorry, I don’t know what that means.”

Asra smiled, shaking his head with a light huff, before eventually giving up on lying on the blanket so he could sit up and borrow the astronomy book from her.

“I told you, you don’t have to apologise for every word you don’t know.” He flipped a couple of pages like he meant to find a specific chapter or image; peeking at him, Mali’ya couldn’t help but notice how the words slid under his eyes without him even noticing them. Just how much did he know on the matter? And who taught him all that, given that he was only a year and a half older than her?

Asra was such a mystery, she thought. He possessed extraordinary talent and a unique predisposition for magic, was resourceful and clever, but nobody seemed to have acknowledged that yet. In her modest opinion, his shine would only have gone to waste, had him kept busying himself with their lessons.

In the end, Mali’ya saw him settle for a star chart.

If only I wasn’t such a slow learner. Mother always said I―

To her surprise, Asra set the book aside and reached for one of their bags. “Solstice marks the first day of winter and summer, by the way.”

She was still lost in thought when she answered, “That’s sontsestoyannya.”

“Oh,” was all he managed to say as he handed her a smaller bag, the one filled with the berries they’d picked on their way to the woods just the other day. “Sounds complicated. Vesuvian is pretty different from Venterrean, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” Mali’ya agreed, taking out a single blueberry from the sack. It was soft and full between her digits and the rind was just the perfect nuance of indigo any ripe fruit should be. It would’ve taken a single, light squeeze to smash it.

“So is Zadithi.”

It was a statement so soft, a whisper so nostalgic, she almost didn’t catch it.

Asra had his eyes fixed before him, though he didn’t seem to be actually seeing whichever thing he was looking at. Faust, who’d been napping among the creases in the blankets, had probably sensed his discomfort since immediately, though ever so gently, she slithered up around his arm as to console him.

Arms around his knees to make himself smaller, a stare that spoke to none―he looked much older than his fifteen years of age, but also somewhat younger, the way when a self-made teen grows up too fast; an inner child whose heart, she was sure, ached for something he would hardly get back.

In the silence of the night, Mali’ya began to understand. Why she’d been drawn to him since that morning at the market. Why she always felt so at ease around him, even though she’d only known him for a few months. She had never been able to notice that before, because both of them were just dancing around the other; trying to see if they could really let their guards down.

They really weren’t that different, then.

Wait.

All of sudden, a realisation―raw hope―pushed anything else aside.

Silence?

“Asra,” she called, her tone urgent and bright all the same. Hurriedly, but as not to startle him, her hand ghosted on his forearm. “The rain. It stopped.”

Not minding the sheets rustling under her knees after her eagerness, Mali’ya crawled out of their makeshift tent but stopped half-way, turning to Asra with an outstretched hand.

“Come,” she smiled, in a way she hoped it said I see you. You don’t have to be alone. “Let’s go see the stars!”

The cold, humid air that followed storms was pleasing on her skin as she unlocked the seal, letting the breeze in while Asra handed her one end of the blanket. Still on the doorstep, Mali’ya watched as her breath formed uneven clouds of steam.

“The sky’s clearing up,” Asra whispered beside her.

The holiness of it all, of the dead of a midsummer’s night, was enough to keep their voices low.  Everything was painted in delicate shades of black and blue, and as they huddled close to one another, Mali’ya and Asra waited for the stars to show up.

Little by little, on the dark, empty canvas around the moon, a faint white dot appeared. Alone at first, it was soon followed by another, and another again, while the wind gently pushed the clouds aside to offer the city, and the few bystanders still wandering around―or standing on a threshold with their hands so close they almost touched―a sky so wide and mighty.

ao3 link

[nxttheendxfthestxry]

"Hey, what's going on? Woah, are you okay?" - Ciri to Grace (@storystartsanew )

Grace sneezes, ducking her head and groaning. "Been better." She sighs and pulls her hair out of her face and grumbles. "Balance is out of whack again."

[sevenkittensinatrenchcoat]

Bullshit I Made Up With Little to No Justification

So, I wrote a bunch of random paragraphs about various characters, either as headcanons or very short stories.

Tumblebrutus:

Tumblebrutus is the son of Asparagus and an unknown queen. He actually knows his father, because he doesn’t know his mother. Jellylorum’s human assumes he’s part of her litter because of how much he resembles Pouncival. They’re actually cousins. Tumble was born almost a full month before his cousins. He sometimes uses that as an excuse to boss them around. This never ends well for him or anybody.

Plato:

Seven cats are considered kittens, young enough to be attending their first Jellicle Ball. Plato is the oldest of that group and training to be a protector of the tribe. He’s big for his age, and Jellicle cats are usually supposed to be small. He does not appreciate Tumblebrutus pointing this out.

I guess the theme of these two is that Tumblebrutus is a little shit.

Etcetera:

Etcetera hero worships Bombalurina. She might have a bit of a crush on her, but she’s not consciously aware of it. This once led to a bit of an argument with Jemima. When Bustopher Jones was visiting for the Jellicle Ball, all the queens, for some reason, had to stay in one corner while he told everyone about his clubs. Every female kitten had to sit with a chaperone. Electra sat with Jenny, her mother. Etcetera didn’t want to be stuck sitting with Jellylorum, her mother. She convinced Victoria, her sister via adoption, to stay with Jelly while she tried to sit with Bombalurina. Jemima, who may or may not be Bomba’s daughter, claimed the spot Etcetera wanted and she was placed with Tantomile, who didn’t really care either way. But, later that evening, Etcetera stole a spot in Bomba’s dance section and counts that as hanging out with her.

Jemima:

Jemima inherited powers from Macavity, but their personalities are so far apart that no one would ever guess. She’s not entirely aware of the powers that she has. Someday, she’ll probably be similar to Coricopat and Tantomile, though they’re not related to her. As a kitten, she’s somewhat sensitive to telepathic messages, as Old Deuteronomy managed to figure out, and she can receive visions from the Jellicle Moon. She can’t make much sense of anything she learns from her powers yet, so they’re usually not very useful.

Mistoffelees:

No one knows where Mistoffelees got his magic from. He was delivered to Munkustrap’s human family’s doorstep one night and that was that. Most of the tribe, himself included, believe that Bustopher Jones is his father. He’s the only other tuxedo cat known to the tribe. The theory has recently been called into question, because the white patches of Misto’s fur are shrinking. He might become a black cat at some point in the near future. Nobody really questions this because they’re used to Mistoffelees being confusing. Until recently, the tribe wasn’t even entirely sure of his gender. The humans believed him to be a tom and he seemed to agree with them, but then he had those seven kittens. The humans never found out about this. Tugger, after some inspection, which Mistoffelees allowed just to shut him up and definitely not because he enjoyed the attention, found no anatomy that kittens could be birthed from and took to calling him Mr. Mistoffelees whenever he brought him up, so the tribe would remember that he was a tom. Mistoffelees agreed with Tugger’s conclusion, but refuses to admit that Tugger calling him “Mister” is really sweet.

Bombalurina:

Bombalurina idolized Grizabella growing up and never got over how much her hero let her down. When she went off with Macavity, Bomba had at first hoped to find Grizabella and convince her to come back to the tribe. All she found of Grizabella were rumors, most of them false. Bombalurina believed all of them.

Demeter:

Demeter wasn’t raised among the Jellicles. She knew of them and had met some of them, but that wasn’t until she became an adult. She was a purely indoor cat until something happened and she became a stray. She didn’t know much about the world and Macavity found it easy to manipulate her. It was Bombalurina, Macavity’s other mistress, who really taught her how to survive. After escaping Macavity, Bombalurina brought her to her human family, who already had three other cats, but they accepted her anyway. There are five humans in the family and they liked the idea of having a cat for each of them. She is now considered the cat of the adult female of the house. The last one had died, but now there was a new one, and a new cat to go with her.

Pouncival:

Pouncival has a habit of following bad influences. Jellylorum has begun to wonder if he might actually want to be a bad boy. All the tom kittens look up to Tugger, but Pouncival also looks up to Mungojerrie, who enjoys teaching him things that he’s not supposed to know, including several swear words. He taught said words to Tumblebrutus and Etcetera. Jerrie also told him a bunch of stories about his adventures in the criminal underworld, so he now knows how to get away with various petty crimes, a bunch of tips when it comes to mating with queens, and how it’s possible to mate with other toms, along with some tips about that as well. This information was also spread to Tumblebrutus and Etcetera, who naturally wanted to know every single detail. Mungojerrie is not allowed in Jellylorum’s den.

Victoria:

Victoria is adopted. She lives in Jellylorum’s den and was raised with Pouncival, Tumblebrutus, and Etcetera. Her human family is very wealthy and their last cat was some kind of show cat. Jellylorum seems to believe that this makes Victoria some kind of feline royalty and she was raised like a princess. Munkustrap has also taken to treating her like she might be in the Deuteronomy family, though if she was, he wouldn’t know. Victoria, though naturally graceful and ladylike, doesn’t really care about any of this. She’s kept under more supervision than Etcetera and Jellylorum says that that’s because she’s different, but Victoria has no idea how or why. The other kittens don’t treat her as different. She has a pretty collar and she’s a good dancer, so the other girls sometimes envy her a little, but, at the end of the day, she’s a fairly ordinary young queen.

Jellylorum:

Jellylorum’s human is a man who lives alone with his cats. He considers Jelly to be his best friend. Despite this, there’s a lot about her life that he doesn’t know. He doesn’t know that she has a den in the garden where her stray father and brother live. When she brought four kittens into the house, he didn’t know that only two of them were biologically hers. He adopted and named them all. He thought Victoria looked regal and named her after Queen Victoria. He also had no idea that Victoria already had an owner somewhere else. He named the two toms Percival and Brutus. Their mother sort of renamed them after their habits of pouncing and tumbling. Etcetera was the fourth one and the human didn’t seem as interested in her, so he named her Etcetera to mean the end of the list. Jellylorum didn’t challenge this, because she thought the name sounded pretty. She sometimes wonders if Etcetera’s troublemaking is the result of a sense of inferiority from being named like that. Then she remembers that Pouncival is just as much of a troublemaker as his sister. If it’s not clear by now, Jelly’s life pretty much revolves around her family. She prefers it that way.

[the-dream-team]

For his birthday, I thought I’d re-post my one-shot in which James Potter punches wizard n@z!s. Happy birthday, Prongs :) Read on AO3

"It is our punches, Harry, that show what we truly are, far more than our abilities." -James Potter, probably

Tensions ran high around the halls of Hogwarts once the Head Boy and Girl appointments became known that September.

James Potter hadn’t noticed anything out of the ordinary at first. Sure, it took a little getting used to all the new responsibilities, having never been a Prefect, but the busywork wasn’t so different from that of being a Quidditch Captain. Nobody treated him abnormally, save for Padfoot of course, who’s endless barrage of teasing hadn’t let up since James received his Head Boy badge earlier that Summer. But everyone else, his friends, acquaintances, and especially his Professors, were taking him more seriously than ever. Which he actually liked.

No, he hadn’t noticed the jeering, the shifts in attitude, or threatening whispers until his Head Boy duties required him to spend more time with the Head Girl, Lily Evans.

Sometimes James wished he could go back in time and take a picture of Evans’ face that day on the Hogwarts Express. When she walked in to see him sitting comfortably in the Head’s compartment, her red hair blazed as fiery as those bright green eyes he had admired for so many years. He always knew she would be selected as Head Girl. There wasn’t a single student at Hogwarts with half of her compassion, determination, or heart. 

Once she’d picked her jaw off the floor, Lily spent half an hour searching for “the real Head Boy” before crawling back to their compartment to shake James’ hand, the shock still evident on her face. It was that kind of tenacity that made him so fond of her. Even if he was on the opposing end of it.

Having an excuse to spend so much time with Evans was a dream come true, but it also opened James up to a world he had never seen as a Pureblood wizard. A world where glares and whispered slurs followed you through the hallways. A world where catching a Slytherin in the corridors at night could lead to threats that weren’t quite as empty as the ones James was used to.

James wasn’t thick. He’d known for years that Voldemort had been stoking the flames of hate and division in the wizarding world, but he’d never seen the burns they left behind until now.

Barely a week had gone by before the first petition was sent around. A ballsy Ravenclaw had the nerve to ask James if he would sign the piece of parchment calling for Lily’s resignation from her Head Girl position. Anger wasn’t a strong enough description for the white hot electricity that coursed through his veins. He could feel the rage in his knuckles as he clenched his fists and then unclenched them.

He calmly gave the Ravenclaw detention, then transfigured the parchment to glass before throwing it to the ground, shattering the petition into a million little shards.

Of course, that little demonstration landed James in detention, too. But it was worth it. Especially when Evans heard what happened and attempted to reprimand him despite the impressed smile playing on her lips. His heart skipped every time he thought about it.

After the petition incident, the Slytherins became louder, claiming their rights were at risk if James Potter was allowed to single-handedly destroy official student body documents. It was rumored a group of seventh year snakes even managed to get an appointment with Dumbledore, though nothing came from it. Still, those whispered insults grew louder every day, as did James’ admiration for Lily as he watched her deflect the hate with her chin up and head held high.

He thought she was the definition of grace. She claimed it was just learned from years of practice growing up Muggleborn. The electric current inside him gathered into an exasperated ball at the thought of an eleven year old Lily faced with such hatred. At anyone faced with that kind of prejudice. He couldn’t see the color green anymore without turning red.

So when the two Heads walked back late from Herbology one afternoon to discover a crowd of Slytherins waiting for them at the castle’s door, James’ fury was already quite close to the surface.

“Oh,” sneered a bulky sixth year, “did you think you were going back inside?”

“Move aside,” said James, as evenly as his temper allowed.

“I don’t think we will,” taunted Mulciber, a seventh year James had plenty of experience dueling with in the past. He smirked, knowing he could take the slimy git in combat if that’s what it came to. “You see, the school’s administration refuses to address our little Mudblood problem, so we reckon it’s time we take things into our own hands.”

The electricity bolted through James’ chest and he reached for his wand, but Lily was quicker.

“And will you be using those same hands I covered in warts last week?” she responded, so casually she could have been asking about the weather. James glanced at her (ignoring the butterflies now mingling with his protective anger) in awe, unaware that she had been behind Mulciber’s recent trip to Madam Pomfrey’s. He beamed. She still managed to surprise him over and over again.

Mulciber fumed and turned to send a look at Severus Snape, who had originally hidden himself towards the back of the crowd. James watched Lily falter for the first time at the sight of that greasy twat. The lightning grew hotter.

“I think we’ve had enough of this,” said James, putting a hand on Lily’s shoulder to lead them both back into the castle. He felt his fingertips spark at the contact, connecting them like a united front. She regained her composure and confidently followed his lead, but the agitators held their ranks. A fourth year girl James recognized as the Slytherin team’s beater even had the nerve to unwrap a green and silver banner and wave it in Lily’s face.

“Your magic will never be real like ours is,” called Mulciber as he took a step closer, blocking them from the entrance. This is our school, for our magic, and you will never belong here.”

The lightning in James’ chest struck and ignited every cell in his body with unbridled rage. He caught Lily’s eye and she nodded, giving him all the permission he needed to release the thunder. Without dropping her gaze, he let the electricity pulse through his arms and gather in his knuckles.

With a quick rustle of his hair and a chancy wink in Evans’ direction, James cocked back his fist and let it soar, making sweet contact on Mulciber’s jaw with a CRACK.

The sharp pain on his knuckles felt like victory and a rush of adrenaline begged him to continue. James threw his punches with pleasure, reveling in each blow. Next to him, Evans shot off hexes and charms in every direction, bounding up and petrifying every lousy bigot in her path. Her wandwork was unmatched and the beauty of it energized James’ fight more than attention or popularity ever had.

For years he had fought out of spite, out of traditional rivalries, and boyhood grudges. But as he watched Lily Evans brush hair out of her face to shoot him a blinding grin before sending a devastating hex in Snape’s direction, he knew now he was fighting out of love.

[judediangelo75]

An Enchanted Kiss (Part 1)

An Enchanted Kiss

Alright, let’s see if I can do this…

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

This is a story that took place long ago.

A story of about loneliness... sadness… understanding... love...

Between a young Winter Sprite and a Spring Nymph...

This is their tale...

----

Once there lived a young couple, a summer Fae named Ava and a Winter Sprite named Trent. The two were madly in love with one another and desired to start a family together. 

For many years, the couple have struggled to conceive a child.

Until one day, Ava felt something stir in her womb. This both shocked and delighted the pair, for now they had a chance of starting the family they longed prayed for. 

The pregnancy, however, took a toll on the Summer Fae. She could feel ice build within her veins with each passing month of her pregnancy. Her unborn child is already proving to be a powerful Winter Sprite. 

Strong enough to freeze her from the inside out...

With a steely resolve, she knew she wouldn’t survive long after the birth. With this in mind, she informed Trent of her possible demise.

The Winter Sprite was heartbroken to her the news that he would be without his beloved, but heeded her words of wisdom about how to care for their child when he or she was born.

Despite the pain, Ava still glowed with the warmth of the summer sun. She constantly doted on her expanding belly, singing and speaking kindly to her unborn child.

It wasn’t until one fateful day, she felt a painful contraction and liquid leak down her leg.

Her child was ready to see the world.

In their home, Ava went through several long hours of labor. She could feel the cold spread more rapidly, causing her blood to grow sluggish. Trent attended to his weakening wife’s every need.

Even suffering a mangled hand and she pushed their child into the world.

Their faces lit up at the sound of their child’s first wail of life. Trent quickly cut the cord that connected mother to child and proceeded to clean the babe.

“It’s a boy,” he whispered to his tired wife, tears of happiness and heartbreak running down his face. Ava raised her arms.

“May I...” Never one to deny his lovely wife anything, Trent handed off their son to her. Ava gazed down at her son, whose cloudy red eyes gazed sightlessly back at her.

“He... he has your eyes,” she whispered, caressing the babe’s soft cheek. Trent pressed a kiss to her temple.

“And he looks like he’ll have your hair color,” he whispered back as the young boy fell asleep in his mother’s arms.

“He’s beautiful,” Ava said softly, the cold began to slowly numb her senses.

“What would you like to name him,” Trent asked, gently squeezing her freezing hand.

“Talbott... his name is Talbott,” Trent smiled.

“Talbott... it’s perfect,” he said. Ava gave her husband one last adoring look, squeezing his hand back. 

“I love you, Trent,” she whispered. Trent willed himself not to cry in front her, knowing she wouldn’t want him to feel sad.

“And I you, my beautiful Swan,” he replied, placing a chaste kiss to her cheek. A week giggle escaped Ava’s lips at the gesture.

She placed a kiss to her son’s forehead.

“I love you, my little Talbott. Forever and always,” she told the sleeping babe. Ava could feel her heart slowing down and suddenly felt immensely tired.

She gave her husband one last smile before closing her eyes, submitting to her eternal slumber.

Trent pressed another kiss to his wife’s cold forehead, a lone tear running down his cheek. He then took his sleeping son in his arms so he could rest in his nursey.

Then there were two...

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

Years would go by and Talbott grew up to be a quiet handsome boy. 

He inherited his father’s red eyes and sharp facial features but had the same skin color and hair color from his dear mother.

He was told what happened to his mother after he constantly questioned his dad about her whereabouts. Trent didn’t want to break his son’s heart by telling him what really happened to her but when he asked if she abandoned them, he broke.

Talbott balled in his father’s lap when he understood what has become of his mum. It was almost impossible to calm the weeping child. Until Trent remembered a gift left behind by his late wife. Leading his son to his bedroom, Trent searched the drawers until he found what he was looking for.

He dusted off the box before handing it to his sniffling son.

“What’s this, dad,” the young boy asked, wiping his teary face. Trent gave his son a small smile.

“A gift from your mother...” Talbott stared at the plain brown box before tentatively opening it. A white feather necklace.

“Your mum was an Animagus, meaning she could transform into an animal. Her Animagus form was a Swan. She wanted to leave you something to remember her by,” his father explained. Talbott gave his dad a teary smile before on the necklace. The young child hugged his sire.

“Thank you, dad. I love you and mum,” he mumbled into his chest. Trent let out a shaky breath before returning the hug.

“And we love you, Talbott. Always...”

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

“Dad, dad! Guess what, I can d-” The excitement that flooded the young Winter Sprite was replaced with devastation.

There laying in bed was his father. He held a wood drawing of his late wife to his chest. A single tear streak was found on his ashen face.

Talbott quickly rushed over to his side, trying to find a pulse. But there was none.

Talbott wept over his dead father’s body, pleading with him to come back. To open his eyes so he could show him his new ability to turn into a Golden Eagle. That he inherited another gift from his mother. To watch him smile and laugh as he flew overhead.

A gaping hole was felt right where his heart was. Frost was building in his veins as a snow storm quickly began to form outside his home.

Pulling away, Talbott stared sightlessly at his father. With a flick of his wrist, Trent’s body levitated under a cushion of snow flurries.

Talbott got up and walked out, with his dad’s body trailing behind him. With his destination in mind, the young man walked in the snow that was quickly picking up speed. But he paid it no mind.

For it can’t compare to the cold emptiness building within his chest.

Some time would pass until Talbott reached a lake. Heading towards the massive weeping willow, Talbott stood in front of a familiar ice gravestone.

This was the place his mum was laid to rest.

It would only be right if he were to give his dad the chance to be with her again.

Using his magic, Talbott slowly lowered his dad’s body towards the ground, watching as nature seem to swallow it body home. As if they were claiming one of their own once more.

Talbott erected another gravestone of ice, this time with his father’s name one it.

The young Winter Sprite stood there for some time. Not saying a word as his magic swirled around him.

The only thing he could think of was now his parents were together again.

But he was left alone.

His passive face morphed into glare.

And if he had to be alone, then the entire world will feel his loneliness as well…

————————————

Few days later, miles away from the Winter Sprite’s home was a Spring Nymph. Her name was Judith.

The young girl was her father’s pride but her mother’s disappointment.

Kendrick, a Summer Fae, and Sade, a Fall Pixie, only were together out of circumstance.

The Summer Fae had intentions on leaving since he didn’t believe the relationship was going anywhere until the Fall Pixie said she was pregnant with his child.

He cared the pregnant woman and helped her through the birthing process of their child. Kendrick may have not knew love with Sade but he couldn’t help but to fall in love looking into his daughter’s droopy gold eyes.

While he was happy to have a daughter, Sade detested the young babe. She knew Kendrick didn’t love her.

Last thing she wanted was a child that reminded her of this.

Few months after the birth, Sade left.

She didn’t leave a note as to why.

Kendrick wasn’t sure how to feel about her disappearance. While he wasn’t sad or angry, he felt worried that his child wouldn’t have a loving maternal figure.

But his little princess didn’t seem bothered at all. So neither was he.

Judith grew up to be a beautiful young woman, almost her father’s twin.

The Spring Nymph proven to be a ray a sunshine. Kind and gentle. Graceful and beautiful.

She was singing and dancing in the forest. Birds responded to the sound of her voice and flowers blossomed by her feet where she danced. Even some of her magical creature friends came out to play with her.

She giggled as she watched her Knarl, Porlock, and Fairy dance around her.

Though it all came to a halt when a cold breeze brushed past her. Her body shuddered at the sudden cold touch.

“How odd… Winter ended not too long ago, why is suddenly getting cold in the beginning of Spring,” she mumbled aloud. Her creature friends took note of this as well, huddling closer to her for warmth.

She gently hushed them and quickly made her way home where they could stay for a bit.

“Papa,” she called out as she walked inside. Her father popped his head out from the kitchen.

“Hello, baby girl. Is something wrong?” Kendrick can see the crease of worry in his daughter’s brows as her lips were pulled down in a small frown.

“I think there’s something wrong, Papa. The temperature outside seems to be getting colder for some reason… do you mind if Ash, Baron, and Lily stay here for awhile?” Kendrick cocked his head to the side upon hearing this. Of course he allowed the creatures to stay in their home.

It was the cold he was curious about.

Stepping outside with his daughter beside him, Kendrick let out a full body shiver. Gold eyes narrowed out of concern as he spotted dark snow clouds rapidly coming their way.

“This is no ordinary winter snow, baby girl. This has to be the work of a powerful Winter Sprite,” he informed as he quickly ushered his daughter inside again.

“Papa, there’s something different about this… it’s like I can feel loneliness and heartbreak mixed in with the magic,” Judith told her father. Kendrick rose a brow at this.

He always knew Judith was a sensitive soul, so to hear this was intriguing.

“I want to find the person behind this,” Judith said. Kendrick looked like he was ready to argue but stopped when his daughter hugged him.

“Please Papa. I promise I’ll be safe…” Kendrick frowned, slightly conflicted. He didn’t want his only child to get hurt, or worse, freeze at the hands of this Winter Sprite. But he know how determined his little girl was. She would probably sneak out on her own if he said no.

He let out a sigh.

“Fine. But you better stay safe, you hear?” The Spring Nymph nodded against her father’s chest before getting on her toes and placing a chaste kiss on his cheek.

“I will, Papa. I’ll be back soon…”

——————————

Talbott was trekking through the snow, watching his power cloak the world in ice and snow. The cold temperature didn’t faze him as it did the wild life around him. Magical creatures ran away from him to seek shelter from the bitter cold.

“Hey!” Talbott paused at the sound of a female voice calling out to him. He turned to see to a girl around his age.

Judging by her attire, she was a Spring Nymph. 

‘A beautiful one at that...’ the Young Winter Sprite thought with narrowed eyes. 

Still. 

Just because this girl was one of the most stunning creatures he ever seen, he can’t find it within himself to get close to her.

“What?” Judith blinked at the harshness in the Winter Sprite’s tone. One of the first things she noted was how handsome the boy was, ever with his glaring red eyes...

“Please Winter Sprite, cease this journey for eternal cold.” Talbott’s lips formed a sneer as he let out a hollow laugh at the sound of her plea.

“And why should I do that, little Spring Nymph? I was left alone! My mother died bringing me into this world and my father joined her just days prior. I have nothing but this ice in my heart! And this world will feel the same as I,” The Winter Sprite snarled, stepping menacingly towards her. 

Gold eyes widen at the ice flurry building in Talbott’s hand. Judith was quick to dodge his attack, wide eyes staring at the ice shard that now stood in her place. 

“I don’t want to hurt you. I want to help! You can come and live with me and my father,” she said slowly as she saw the Winter Sprite charging another attack.

“I don’t want your pity. And I don’t wish to hurt you either... but I will if you continue to stand in my way,” he replied smoothly. Which was true. He didn’t want to hurt her at all. 

Something about her felt right. Like if he were to be wrapped up in her arms and see her smile, he’d melt like an ice cube on a summer’s day. 

But he feared growing attached to her. People in his life will always leave. His fragile heart couldn’t take another hit if he let her in and she did the same.

“I can’t let you freeze the world,” the girl said, pulsing green energy came to life in the palm in her hand.

Talbott gave a cold smirk. 

“I would love to see you try to stop me, darling,” he chuckled.

And the battle begun.

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

“Come out, come out wherever you are, little Spring Nymph...” Judith could her the taunting sound of the Winter Sprite’s voice as she hid behind a tree. 

She has no idea how long they’ve been fighting but she could feel the exhaustion being to set in. 

Along with the biting cold surrounding her. 

Her magic helped kept her warm enough to handle the cold but with her spending energy in putting up shields and attacking, she began to numbing cold. She wasn’t sure how long she could keep this up. She would have to escape and try to fight another-

She gasped with she felt a cold hand on her shoulder and was swiftly turned around to meet red eyes.

“Found you,” Talbott purred. Talbott had no idea why he made his presence known to the Spring Nymph.

He could’ve just froze her on the spot without her trying to fight back. 

But he wanted to get closer for some reason.

He could smell the sweet fragrance coming from the flowers in her hair. Despite her shivering, he could still feel the gentle warmth radiating from her soft skin underneath his hand. Even with the panic in those pale gold eyes, they reminded him of the sun on a summer’s day. 

Radiant and warm.

Judith could feel a blush steadying rising in her cheeks as the Winter Sprite seemed to being studying her face. With him even closer now, she could see his handsome features up close. His ombre hair was slicked back to reveal the sharp features of his face. The intense glare of those red eyes reminded Judith of thorny red roses.

Beautiful but harmful if you’re not careful.

Not even the frown on lips can hide their fullness. Judith licked her lips out of nervousness, which grew worse when Talbott’s eyes zeroed in on her’s.

‘They look as soft as the petals in in her hair... maybe even softer...’ Talbott silently mused to himself as he unconsciously leaned closer. Judith’s eyes fluttered closed as the Winter Sprite got closer. Both unsure where this was going but eager for the possibility nonetheless.

She could feel the coolness of his lips brush against her warm ones when the Winter Sprite was blasted away from her.

“Judith!” She gasped when a pair of arms scoop her up bridal style and she was carried away. Judging by the familiar warmth, her Papa found her.

Peeking over the man’s broad shoulder, she could see the glare being sent their way by the Winter Sprite.

As well as the hand touching his lips...

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

Talbott didn’t appreciate the sudden attack from the towering man who seemingly came out of nowhere, stealing the little Spring Nymph away. While he never saw the man’s face, judging by same locs and skin tone, that man could’ve been her father. 

Talbott couldn’t help but to rub his lips out of wonder.

He didn’t plan sharing the near kiss with the Spring Nymph, who he now knows goes by the name Judith. He acted out of impulse.

Something in him shattered with he caught the motion of her tongue wiping over her plump red lips. 

He only wanted a taste. A taste of what being with her could mean. 

He was no fool. He knew he couldn’t truly harm her like he threatened to do. Some small part of his frozen heart wouldn’t allow it. A small part that she thawed.

Despite his harshness towards her, she meant what she said. She didn’t want to hurt him. While he threw ice daggers and beams at her, she didn’t retaliate.

She mainly threw up shields to protect herself, aim her magic near him so the snow would engulf him or for her plants to grow in attempts to restrain him.

Talbott can see the kindness in her heart. After all, who offers their home to a stranger?

His hesitance to harm her and the almost kiss proved that he felt something towards her.

While he was still planning on cloaking the world in ice and snow, he was considering on making her his Queen.

He knew she felt the connection between them, she wouldn’t have gave into him so easily.

He would just have to find out how much...

Transforming into his Golden Eagle, he flew after the retreating pair.

[nxttheendxfthestxryarch2]

“I’ve always been a little dim, haven’t I?“ - Celestia to Grace!

“Hey, don’t say that,” Grace sits up, frowning at her sister. “That’s not true. Where did that come from?”

@untxld-stxries

[ask-enchanted-daughter]

Flashback Double Solo Para: Take a Break

“I’m just saying, you really could use a break,” Rebecca is saying as the pair get their smoothies. “Auradon isn’t gonna break if you leave for a week or so.”

“It might,” Grace laughs. “We all know I’m the canary in a coal mine around here when it comes to good and evil.”

“Yeah, but that’s just it,” Rebecca points out. “You have to get really sick for us to know something’s up. Look, everything’s been fine for a while, and I have a gift certificate for a spa getaway for two that’s gonna expire soon. Let’s just take a week and finally give you a chance to relax, I’m very certain that if Fairy Godmother can excuse Audrey’s sabbatical before she came back and went all evil, she can excuse this.”

Grace sighs and sips her smoothie with a shrug. “Are you sure? I don’t wanna take up that slot, I know you miss your sister--”

“Well, college is less forgiving than AP, Morgan’s got a full schedule at the moment. I’d rather have someone I know can make it. Come on, please?”

Sighing, Grace nods. “Okay, fine, let’s do it.”

“Sweet, I’ll book our tickets. This’ll be so exciting! And when it’s all over, Auradon will be totally fine when we get back and you’ll see you’re allowed to take a break without everything going to shit.”

[lov3nerdstuff]

Voluptas Noctis Aeternae {Part 7.29}

*Severus Snape x OC*

Summary: It is the year 1983 when the ordinary life of Robin Mitchell takes a drastic turn: she is accepted into Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Despite the struggles of being a muggle-born in Slytherin, she soon discovers her passion for Potions, and even manages the impossible: gaining the favor of Severus Snape. Throughout the years, Robin finds that the not quite so ordinary Potions Professor goes from being a brooding stranger to being more than she had ever deemed possible. An ally, a mentor, a friend... and eventually, the person she loves the most. Through adventure, prophecies and the little struggles of daily life in a castle full of mysteries, Robin chooses a path for herself, an unlikely friendship blossoms into something more, and two people abandoned by the world can finally find a home.

General warnings: professor x student, blood, violence, trauma, neglectful families, bullying, cursing

Words: 3.7k

Read Part 1.1 here! All Parts can be found on the Masterlist!

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The very moment Robin was back inside the castle, every possible doubt about what she was about to do had vanished entirely if it had ever been existent in the first place. On her haste down into the dungeons, people jumped out of her path at the mere sight of the sinister expression on her face, and honestly, she was more grateful than ever that nobody dared to as much as look at her for too long. Sometimes a reputation was a curse, sometimes a saving grace. Right now the latter was the case.

She didn't say a single word when she opened the door to the potions classroom in one swift move. Still stayed silent when she made her way through the rows of desks and students, straight to the front where Snape was working at his desk like always during detention. She didn't need to say a thing, and yet all eyes were on her in an instant. The students' many ones in surprise and nigh intimidation at her mode of entrance, Snape's merely in instant concern. He knew that she wouldn't just show up here, bursting into detention if it wasn't for a matter of utmost importance. So she only looked at him in silent confirmation of what they both knew was happening right now.

"Detention is over. Get out. Now." Snape spoke up with a brief glimpse at his students, in a tone to match Robin's grave expression. Then however his eyes found and never left hers as he rose to his feet in an instant to round the table to come over to her side as if the rest of the world beyond them simply ceased to exist.

"But professor, it's still over an hour until dinner… Are you sure we're allowed to go already?" A young boy, probably a first year, remarked carefully, which earned him a few groans and curses from his peers, and an instantaneous but deathly glare from Snape.

"Question me again and you will spend the entire remainder of this term in detention." He snapped at the boy, then turned to everyone else who had stopped in their tracks or not yet started moving in the first place. "What on earth are you waiting for?! Is there a part of 'get out' you dunderheads failed to understand?"

It took exactly five seconds for the students to rush out the door while the echo of his words still ghosted through the masses of stone. Then, in the very instant the last people had left, the door to the classroom flew shut, was locked and warded in a now long practiced procedure that, to Robin's knowledge, was yet unbreakable. Ever since new year's, they had become more careful with their every step for a multitude of reasons. Morgan being one of them.

"What on earth-..." Snape didn't get further than that before Robin had dropped her backpack and winter robes on the ground and wrapped her arms around him so tightly that her muscles started quivering, urged into this impulsive need for closeness by the sudden and sheer overwhelming realization that she had come way too close to never seeing him again. In the end, it was a gift of fate that they were still here, still together. This thought as well as the hot rush of welling tears it brought along was only quenched when he held her tightly in return, and her composure collapsed once and for all.

Sure, there were more important things to be dealt with right now and Robin had promised herself not to let her emotions get in the way of that, but she couldn't help it anymore. Repression and putting on acts for her own mind only worked for so long. And thus she let herself dwell in his embrace for now, clawing onto him like a lifeline of reality, basking in the comfort and safety she needed now more than ever. The world could wait. It had to.

"Whatever it is, we will be fine." He said after a while of drawing soft patterns on her back, and Robin almost had to smile. She had never told him just how soothing she found that gesture, nor his voice and words of encouragement, but somehow he still had always known anyway. There was no measure for how much she loved him for that, for just knowing. "May I see for myself?"

"Please do. I couldn't logically explain what happened anyway, not even if I tried." She sighed in return without even having to ask what he meant, and then waited for his presence in her mind as she had felt it so often before. It was a truly pleasant procedure at this point, like a gentle caress, like the patterns on her back. And therefore sharing her memories of what had happened brought an immediate and breathtaking relief to her troubled mind as much as his presence did to her soul. The panic faded, the anxiety and sickness made way for reason and even a strong sense of safety. She might not need him to protect her… but she still was more than glad to know that he wouldn't let anything stop him from doing so anyway.

For a while longer neither of them spoke, even once he had seen all there was, all there had been. His hold on her only tightened, and moments later the scratch on her eyebrow started tingling with the warm echo of magic. Perhaps she should ask him to teach her some of those miraculous healing spells… If fights over life and death were to become a normal occurrence in her days now, it might yet prove useful to have some of his tricks up her own sleeves as well. But that would have to wait; for now, she had to get over herself and deal with the more pressing issues. With a deep breath, she pulled back when she finally felt ready to face the world and the worries it brought at last. They could do this. Together, like always.

In the following minutes it in return took Robin quite a bit of convincing to remind Snape that, one, she had won the fight and had come out more or less fine after all, only cold and bruised, and two, that they had agreed that killing Morgan was still not an option. No matter how very tempting the idea was under the current circumstances. Robin did agree with one point though, when Snape said that if it ever came to a moment where it was either Morgan's or Robin's life, he wouldn't waste a second of thought to save her no matter what might be the cost in return. She did agree, even though she knew that it had never been meant as a question in the first place.

Indeed, the thought made Robin smile. He would gladly set the world and skies on fire for her if the opportunity should come, without a single doubt or hesitation, and while that thought should have been at least somehow disconcerting, the unshakable fact only made Robin feel ineffably proud. There had never been such a thing as 'normal' when it came to him and her… They had always been living by extremes. Living through passion for life. And in that intensity, in the way they lived and were going to live, she found her fear replaced by determination.

"I believe to have a lead on Morgan's reasons, to find out what this is all about. A start." She said, and was met with the most attentive, intrigued gaze in return. "Or at least I finally have an idea where to look for one."

"Other than his sheer insanity being reason enough, you mean?"

"Actually, I'm rather sure that he is quite as sane as you and I." Robin sighed, while a half smile found its way onto her lips nonetheless. "But no matter what he is or isn't, we will find out what makes him do what he does and we will put an end to it. In a different way than by killing him. A better one."

"You're terribly rational. As always." Snape replied in a huff, and yet let his fingers trace the outside of her hand in a feathery touch to replace some of the past embrace's comfort. It was remarkable how much better he had gotten with such simple signs of affection over the last few months, even if still ever so subtle. "I wish I had your level of optimism."

"I'm not optimistic, but realistic." Her half smile turned into a full one as she took the opportunity to interlace their fingers in return. "This mess with Morgan has been going on for almost seven years now, and I need it to end on my terms before it ends on his. We have to see to it that it does, and we will."

"Tell me more about your lead then; I must say that neither his words nor your thoughts on the matter made much sense to me."

"They didn't make sense to me either, until I went shopping with Cas and Jorien."

"You almost died, and then you went shopping right after that instead of coming straight back here?"

"Yes?"

"You hate shopping. And you almost died."

"Yes…?"

"I am honestly not sure if I should be impressed or irritated. You really are perfectly impossible."

"Why, thank you!" Robin had to smirk upon his incredulous expression, but soon enough her thoughts and expression went back to business as she tried to put the mess of thoughts into a stringent sentence. "To be honest, I just went shopping because I didn't want to let the girls down, and I hoped it would bring me some diversion from the events I did not even nearly understand at that point. But it was Morgan's words that made me think, and even throughout the hour where I tried to focus on other matters, they never quite left me alone no matter what. To make it short, I have an idea what he could've meant with some of what he said. The part about looking at my being but not me, the earrings and also comparing me to some other person who is me and not me at the same time."

"And?"

"The painting in the room of hidden things." Robin finally got out the very core of her thoughts, of her suspicion, and it didn't take more than that for Snape's mind to visibly halt at her words. "We have to find it and see if the woman who looks like me has earrings or not. Because then Morgan's comments-..."

"Would suddenly make a disconcerting amount of sense." He finished the sentence for her with a deep frown as his thoughts finally caught up with hers. "It still doesn't explain why he does what he does, but it certainly is a starting point indeed."

"The best lead we've ever had. And the only one."

"Then we cannot wait any longer." His tone went from considering to beyond determined. "We should be able to get up to the seventh floor unseen even at the present time, if we make use of the hidden paths in the castle."

"Lead the way then." Robin said with a small but sincere smile, then gave Snape's hand a gentle squeeze and finally let go to take her robes and bag to his office for safekeeping. The classroom was a mere shed in comparison to the fortress of spells that surrounded the office these days, and if today had proven anything to her, it was that she couldn't be careful enough. Not even with her belongings. After all, objects could be cursed just the same, and do perhaps even more damage than a simple one-time spell. She wasn't keen on finding out just how much more.

… … …

They made their way up to the correct seventh floor hallway in a matter of minutes, unseen in the rising darkness of the castle, and it again took only a minute and an illusionment charm to summon the grand door to the room of hidden things. The extraordinary place didn't fail to fascinate Robin even now upon their entrance, and she inevitably had to think back to the last time she had been here. The only time, to be exact, because she hadn't dared returning alone. A lot of things had been easier back then… But she wouldn't want to go back for anything in the world. She couldn't even bear the thought of going back to the torture that was loving from afar.

"Do you remember where the portrait was located?" Snape asked once he had closed the heavy door behind them, and broke Robin out of her marveling and memories. Yes, this reality was far better, no matter what.

"I, uh… I was rather distracted the last time we were in here." She admitted with a small shrug, which made him raise an eyebrow at her. Robin rolled her eyes in return. "I was trying not to jump at you for how close you kept coming to me, if you have to know. So no, I don't remember the path to the portrait."

"Pity." He sighed in feigned disappointment, then merely took her hand again and started walking off in absolute certainty where to go while pulling her along. Of course he knew where the portrait was… Robin had to smile against her will as she couldn't help rolling her eyes again. Insufferable idiot. Her idiot.

In a matter of minutes they reached the mountain of objects Robin very much recognized as the place she had discovered the portrait in nonetheless. The flipped chairs, the pile of pink teacups, the bucket filled with yellowed scrolls. Yes, this was the right spot indeed. But there was no painting anywhere in sight.

"It's gone…" Robin wondered out loud, brows furrowed and the hairs in her neck standing on edge. She hadn't quite considered that people other than them had access to this place as well… other people who might not have her best interest in mind, with the portrait or not. Or who came in here not to hide something, but to hide something that already was in here. The thought made her shudder.

"I can see that." Snape replied flatly, with very much the same irritation colouring his features and occupying his mind. His concern was all the more reason for Robin to feel everything but at ease in this place, even now that their hands were still tightly interlaced. Perhaps they were both scared to part again any time soon. But still, bloody portrait… couldn't anything ever be easy at Hogwarts?! Perhaps this room wasn't such a great place after all. Then again, maybe it only was almost getting killed that had her on edge far more quickly than usual. That explanation for her unease was more likely. Gods, she couldn't even keep her thoughts in line properly.

"Perhaps someone moved it while in the search for something else?" She suggested in an attempt to keep her recently regained calm. This was not a setback, that they hadn't found the portrait where it was supposed to be. It was rather a mystery, a riddle, and those were supposed to have edges and corners. Yes, that made her feel better about the situation. "I know tracing spells don't work in here, but perhaps we could have a quick look around nonetheless?"

"I have a better idea." Snape said with a thoughtful gaze at the spot where the portrait had been. Then – much to Robin's dismay – he let go of her hand and instead made them both move to the side, almost leaning into the next mountain of objects behind them as he went on. "How likely is it that Morgan, the perhaps only professor who has a habit of being constantly short of time, would spend precious minutes every morning and every night, according to his own words, to come here to look at the painting?"

"Unlikely, I should say. Practically impossible."

"Yes. And what does that thereby mean?"

"You just love to make me guess, don't you?"

Snape rolled his eyes, partially at Robin and also partially at himself if she wasn't mistaken, but then answered his own question nonetheless. "It means that he must have taken the portrait elsewhere. Either to his office or his private chambers, I presume."

"Oh bloody hell no…" Robin groaned under her breath, then leaned her head back into her neck for a moment to place that very logical piece of information into her mental puzzle. "I'm afraid you're right, but I still very much hope you're not. The thought-..."

"I know. It concerns me no less."

"Can we do anything to find out for sure before I break into his office for nothing?"

"Before we break into his office. Don't even think that I would let you do any of this alone." He protested immediately in a reproachful scoff, but when his words only made Robin smile ever so slightly, his expression mellowed out in return. "There is no way to be entirely certain about the whereabouts of the painting, seeing as the room's magic to protect its contents is older than the castle itself. We cannot undo it, not even nearly."

"Pity." Robin sighed in a mirror of his own favoured expression, which earned her a not-smirk before he went on.

"What we can do however is to trace a person's movements. If Morgan ever was in here, we should be able to see where precisely he went, which in this case is the next best thing."

"That's bloody brilliant!"

"Don't look so surprised…" He scoffed again, but the not-smirk lingered on even as he worded the according spell. It wasn't an unfamiliar or difficult one, but what made Robin feel both in awe and proud beyond reason was the very idea in the first place. Tracing the person and not the object was such an out-of-the-box approach to the problem at hand that it might as well have come from her own mind. But coming from Snape now, it made Robin realize all over again how much they had grown into each other's ways of thinking over the years. She couldn't help feeling proud of that even in a situation like this.

A mere few seconds later, the ground before them lit up with a straight line of glowing footsteps that came from between the mountains of things from the direction of the door. It led straight to the point where Robin vaguely remembered the portrait to have been, then it took a sharp turn straight back to where it had come from. No detours, no looking around. A straight path here, a straight path back.

"The spell only shows the last time he was here, not possible times before that." Snape explained, and Robin found herself nodding on instinct as her eyes followed the footsteps between the mountains where they disappeared from her sight.

"Yeah, I know…" She mused, frowning to herself once more. Obviously she knew the spell and its specifics, but something entirely else was nagging at her mind again, something she should take notice of but hadn't as of yet. It was terribly irksome.

"Perhaps a summary of the state of affairs might help?" He suggested, and it didn't even come as a surprise to Robin anymore that he knew exactly what was going on in her mind. In more instances than she could count, he just knew indeed.

"Very well, let's see…" Robin mused with a sigh, while they started making their way back towards the exit in a slow saunter. "Morgan wants to kill me. He is not insane, he rather seems to have a reason for what he does. One he doesn't quite agree with, or at least is somewhat troubled by himself. The chance that he can win a duel against me at this point is near non-existent, so his only chance is to catch me by surprise or trickery, like he did today. He would find it easier to kill me if I fought back, but he still doesn't plan to stop trying either way. He cannot stop for some reason, or so he says at least. He wants to kill me, and yet he doesn't want to see me dead."

"He has a twisted obsession with you, whether that be for you as a person or you as a representation of something or someone else." Snape went on in the wake of her words. "He clearly adores you, while yet he has an ineffable hatred for you, which makes him both enjoy and dread seeing you suffer. The obsession with you led him to take the portrait out of this room, which he came to discover by yet unknown factors. He came in here at least once and took the portrait out with him to presumably either his office or his rooms. There he looks at it every morning and every night, as for his statement, because he rarely sees the real you outside of class. Through that or perhaps for other reasons, he has formed some sort of bond with the woman in the painting, which he recognizes to be you and not you at the same time. He wants you to be his, and yet he wants you dead."

"Exactly." Robin sighed again. "That makes so much sense and yet it doesn't make sense at all. It's as if he is two people at once, at war over one thing he is made to do and one thing he wants to do. If you would've asked me a year ago, I would've said it could be an Imperius curse. But after reading the book Dumbledore gave me for my birthday, and you'll know this because we both have read it a gazillion times by now, the curse just doesn't quite fit in with the facts of the case."

"I agree. He is far too aware of himself and his struggle on either end to be cursed. Especially unlikely for an Imperius curse."

"Good… But that also means that nothing fits in with the facts. We have a bunch of new questions, but no answers whatsoever."

"Yet."

______________________________

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