#this thought has invaded my brain since i saw the sneak peek

[antlerx-art]

slaying in hell 💅🏻😚

[primofate]

2K Followers Event: Pancake and Waffle Cafe Masterlist

Nutella Waffles (overhearing and misunderstanding a conversation/situation) MODERN AU ANGST

Characters: Childe, Kazuha, Thoma, Albedo, Kaeya, Zhongli, fem!reader

Warnings: not proofread :D, cheating, fighting, insulting, misunderstanding (duh), pregnancy, sexual innuendos, implying sex, mentions of sex, still SFW though, of course I bent the lore since it’s an AU

Notes: I had trouble with this so I decided to make it a modern AU. That’s also why it took so long. I think my brain is starting to run dry XD I mean, there’s only so much situations/conversations I could think of that could be misunderstood. Still, enjoy!

Childe

"Ah, sorry, Y/N, I can’t walk you home today... Maybe tomorrow?” Childe smiled at you, scratching the back of his head, his school bag swung over his shoulder already. He looked like he was in a hurry. 

It’s been a few days like this and you really didn’t know what was happening. You asked him if he needed help with stuff at home or if he was having a hard time with his homework and if that’s why he was always rushing off. He would just give you the same smile and wave a hand. “It’s nothing like that,” and then off he’d go. 

The next day, as you walk towards his classroom during lunchtime you hear him and his friends talking before you even reach the classroom door. 

“Zoe is totally cute,” Childe says. The voice he uses is something that he’d never used on you before. You freeze in your tracks and try to listen in more. “Wow, she really is! Great job picking her!” one of his friends said and it sounded as if they’d hit Childe on the back as a congratulations. “Let me see, let me see,” another one says followed by a gasp. “Have you taken her out yet?” Childe laughs nervously and you know all too well without even looking at him that he’s probably scratching his head. “No, not yet,” 

“Does your girlfriend know yet?” Someone else asks.

And then you hear a laugh that’s all too mischievous. All too playful. All too heart-wrenching. “She doesn’t know!” and they continue to laugh.

You turn away and try your hardest not to let tears escape from your eyes. It felt as if you were being laughed at. Like everyone knew that he was cheating. Everyone except you. It doesn’t help that there was a Zoe in the other class too. The way his friends laughed made your cheeks heat up in embarrassment and the tears you were so desperately holding back to finally flow through.

You ended up staying in the washroom for the whole of lunch time, staying in a cubicle for an extra few minutes, late for the next class.

Somehow you didn’t expect Childe to still show up in your classroom to pick you up for the day and walk you home. You stare at him at the classroom door, your eyes had already gone back to their normal shade, but still glossy. He doesn’t notice, he has a big smile on his face that mocks you. Ridicules you. 

“Y/N! Let’s go together today!” Does he feel guilty? Is that why he finally agrees to walk home with you? Cause he’s had his fill of Zoe already? You don’t say a word and exit the classroom, going past him. Childe blinks, and turns to watch you walking away from him. “Y/N?”

He walks after you, and takes his place next to you. He touches the strap of your backpack, as usual, and says “I’ll take this--”

“I got it,” you reply curtly and move away from him. He’s dumbfounded, eyes still a little wide at your sudden coldness. Now he’s getting anxious. Did he do something wrong? “H-Hey...Y/N, are you mad because I didn’t walk home with you the past couple days? See, I was just--”

“I’m not that petty!” You nearly growl at him, holding his gaze for a few seconds before walking off again. Your eyes are starting to prickle with more tears. You just wanted to get home. As soon as you can. Away from him. You didn’t have the heart to break up with him face to face. You liked him too much, you knew you wouldn’t be able to do it while looking at his handsome face. 

Then, he snatches your wrist and pulls you back towards him. The school hallways are emptying out, there’s a few students walking by who ignore the two of you. “Then what’s the matter? I don’t like it when we fight. At least tell me what I did!” 

You wrench your wrist away from his and start sniffing. He stands there, shocked at where your tears are coming from. Until you start talking. “I heard you, during lunch time,” his eyebrows furrow. “Lunch...time?” He mumbles, not following. “When you were talking about your cute Zoe!” He doesn’t say anything for a moment and that only confirms your fears. 

He’d been looking at other girls, and probably wanting them.

“...Y/N, Zoe is...” Childe scratched his cheek, averting his eyes away. 

“I don’t wanna hear it,” you try to turn away, but he doesn’t let you and holds your shoulders with his hands, staring straight at you. “My dog,” You were crying at this point, and when you hear his next words your eyes narrow. “W-What?”

“Zoe is my new dog,” 

“B-But your friend asked if you took her out yet...”

“Yeah,” Childe tilted his head, “for a walk?” As you start to connect the dots he takes out his phone and shows you the picture of a cute miniature poodle, it had a collar and a silver tag on it that said “Zoe”. You thought that you might cry again at how cute she was but you just glare up at Childe. “Well, I didn’t tell you cause I was gunna surprise you. I’ve been going home early these days cause we had to go visit the pound a few times and finalize the papers and everything...” 

“I-Is that true? Is that all it is?” You sniff, now wiping your stupid tears away. Childe smiles down at you and takes your hands away from your face, replacing it with his, thumbing away the streaks of wetness. “Y/N, no one can ever replace you,” you sniff and let him dote on you. You’d been missing him for a while anyway. 

“...Well except Zoe, maybe Zoe can,” he’s clearly teasing you and you don’t hesitate to lift your fist and punch him on the shoulder, earning a small “Ow,” from him followed by a laugh. “I’m just kidding, how ‘bout you come over and visit her today? It’s only her second day home!”

Thoma

You’d made an appointment with your friend a long time ago. Just a quick lunch and catch up date. Thoma had graciously volunteered to drive you to the mall where you were meeting up with her.

“You sure you don’t need me to pick you up? It’s Saturday. I’m free,” he flashes you a smile, his eyes darting towards you only for a second before going back to the road. “I’ll be fine hun, I’ll take the bus home,” you reply to him.

Halfway through your journey he says that he needs to buy something from a convenience store, and so he parks the car properly and grabs his wallet. His phone is on the car phone stand and you pay no heed to it until a soft ‘ding’ makes you pick your head up to look at the screen. 

Your best friend’s name pops up, she’s messaged him and your blood runs cold.

“I’ll come over when Y/N’s gone,” the message read. Your heart is already at your throat, and you don’t know what to think. What is this make-believe situation that you’re suddenly in. Is this really happening? Your eyes dart upwards to look at the door of the convenience store. You could see Thoma was still looking at the shelves.

You gulp and you wonder what the right thing to do is. Invade his privacy and peek at his messages? Let it go? Confront him? Cry? Another ‘ding’ fills up the car.

“How long is she going to be out? The longer the better. So...” you couldn’t read the rest of the message, it being cut off but you were already spiraling down the hole of despair. How could he? Your sweet and loyal Thoma ended up going behind your back with your best friend. You thought you were going to be sick, you actually had to roll the windows of the car down to get some fresh air, just as Thoma came out of the convenience store door with a plastic bag. 

You couldn’t look at him. You couldn’t even be in the same space as him. You were going to cancel today with your friend, you didn’t think you’d be able to function properly. When he sat on the driver’s seat and saw you looking out the window, he didn’t think much of it and revved the engine up. “Ready hu--”

“Take me to my sister’s place,” Thoma blinked and turned to you, confused. “But, what about your lunch date today, dear?”

“I don’t feel like going. My sister’s place is nearby, just drop me off there,” Your hands were already typing a reply to the friend that you were about to stand up on, but you couldn’t even think of what to do or say. 

“Dear is everything okay?” He asked while backing the car up, arm outstretched to your side while he’s looking at the rear. He was appalled by your sudden mood change. You didn’t answer but he hears you sniff and he immediately stops the car again. “Y/N? What’s wrong?” He’s alarmed that you’re crying and he reaches to cup your chin and tilt it towards him but you move your face away from him. 

“Y/N?” he asked, the confusion in his voice is actually genuine and you can hear a bit of panic in it. “How long have you been seeing Aya?” you spit the words as if they’re poison and the car is quiet. You laugh bitterly. “I thought so, cat got your tongue, huh?” 

Thoma shook himself out of his confusion to say, “No, wait, I don’t know what you mean,” You scoff at him. You’re shocked at the amount of resentment you had, you trusted this man and yet this is what happens. “Yeah? Why is she sneaking into our house then?” You point at his phone, the screen is still lit up because of the messages and there were more coming in from your best friend. 

Thoma snatches the phone away from the stand and looks at it. Then, he deflates and slumps back on his seat. “Y/N, it’s not what you think,” You hate that line so much. You cross your arms and say, “Just drop me at my sister’s house,” 

“Y/N--”

“NOW!”

The drive was quiet. You didn’t know what to do. He didn’t know what to do. He didn’t want to push you but didn’t want to drop you off to your sister’s without explaining as well. So, just before your sister’s block, he parks on the side and unbuckles his seat belt, then opens your side of the door. “Y/N, listen to me,” he’s rarely this assertive, but you still don’t listen. He’s blocking your escape path. 

“It’s your birthday today,” Thoma starts and you blink, completely forgetting about it. “Ayu is sneaking in our house while you’re gone because we were going to set up a surprise for you.” He says slowly, as if he’s talking to a child. Your eyes widen, and you relax in your seat. He gives you his phone and urges you, “Go on, Y/N, you know my passcode right? I don’t hide anything from you, you can read the rest,” 

You hesitate, but accept his offer and type it in. 

“How long is she going to be out? The longer the better. So we can set up the balloons,”

“I got the cake don’t forget the candles and lighter,”

Thoma picks up his other hand that had the white plastic bag from the convenience store, he picks up the two items from inside. Birthday candles. And a lighter. 

Your mouth opens, but you can’t say anything and you only bury your face in your hands out of shame. “Oh my God, I’m so sorry Thoma, I--” He manages to let out a laugh and kisses the top of your head. “I’m so stupid. I trust you, I really do, I just--” now you’re not sure if you’re crying out of relief or embarrassment. “I’m so sorry,” You can’t say anything else and he only kisses you on the forehead again.

“It’s alright, you can make it up to me by going on that lunch date, okay? You deserve the rest. You haven’t cancelled yet have you? Let’s freshen up at your sister’s place and I’ll send you to the mall,” 

You nod your head, small smile on your face. This was gunna be one story to tell in the future.

“Oh and it would help if you act surprised when you come home,” Thoma adds with a full laugh that you join in on. 

Kaeya

"So how are you and Y/N?”

It’d only been a couple of months of the two of you dating. Kaeya was handsome, gallant and he knew exactly what to say to people. It wasn’t a secret that he was quite popular in school. 

Little old you was just another girl in just another class.

“Good, I think,” Kaeya responds, you smile around the corner, hidden from sight, knowing that he was taking a juice box break with his friends. “It’s a little annoying though,” your smile drops and your head tilts sideways in question. “I can’t keep her away and she doesn’t even realize how annoying it is,” 

Keep me away? You think. Am I too clingy? You hear them exchange words a bit more, but none of the other words process in your head. Their laughter spurs you out of your thoughts and you return to your classroom dumbfounded. 

When the bell rang for dismissal you immediately packed and walked home by yourself. Kaeya was confused when he arrived at your classroom door, and found that you weren’t there anymore. “...Hey, did Y/N go home?” he asked one of your passing classmates. “Yeah, she went out pretty fast,”

Now he was worried. Did something happen at home? He takes his phone out as he’s out the school building, tapping your name and calling, only for the call to not even connect. His brows furrow but nonetheless, he goes home for today and types in a message for you.

“Hey, you okay? Talk to me if you need something,” 

The next day, when he usually waits outside your door for you to come out, he realizes that you’re a little late and further realizes that you weren’t going to come out. He wasn’t about to knock on your door, your parents didn’t know about him yet. 

He tries to call you again but he’s met with the same result as yesterday. He sighs and looks up at the sky while he’s walking. He hasn’t seen you for nearly a full day now, and he doesn’t realize how long a full day is until now. He just wants to see your smiling face again and he starts to wonder if he’d done something wrong. 

By lunchtime, he’s sprinting towards your classroom as soon as the bell rings, wondering if you were there. Indeed, finally, he spots you in your classroom and his shoulders slump in relief only to tense up again when he sees a guy in your class talking to you, and you, smiling happily. 

“Y/N,” he calls out to you, waving his hand. You look away from your conversation to him and he notices how your smile turns into a tight line on your face. His own smile drops, but you walk out of the classroom anyway and address him. “Yes?” He blinks down at your tone of voice. “U-Uh... Wanna have lunch together?” 

“...But it’s annoying that I’m clingy right?” The two of you unconsciously move away from the door to out in the hallway, so that you’re not blocking the way of people coming in and out. He narrows his eyes in confusion. Where is this coming from? “I--No, what do you mean? I never said that,” 

“Yesterday, you said you can’t keep me away and it’s annoying,” you averted your gaze, feeling your eyes start to water. Kaeya reels back a little, replaying things in his mind, trying to remember if he said something like that. And, with a light bulb moment, his face breaks into a grin and slight laughter. You glare up at him, “What? It’s funny?”

Kaeya places a hand on your shoulder and explains while smiling. “Y/N, you didn’t listen to the rest of the conversation, did you?”

---What really happened---

“It’s really annoying though. I can’t keep her away and she doesn’t even realize how annoying it is,” he sips on his juice box again.

One of his friends pipe up, “Dude that’s a little harsh,”

Kaeya blinks. Once, twice and thrice. Until it dawns on him. “Oh, no, I meant that I can’t keep her away from other people,” he grins and leans both his elbows on the windowsill. “She doesn’t realize that she’s super friendly, and other people like talking to her a lot. Whenever I go to her classroom she’s always talking to different people.”

His friends make a sound of understanding. “I wish I could just keep her to myself,” and continues sipping on his juice.

“That’s really cheesy, even for you, Kaeya,” one of his friends say and the lot of them starts laughing.

---That’s what really happened---

It was your turn to blink at him, confused. “S-So...”

Kaeya pats your head and smiles. “You can ask my friends if it makes you feel better,”

A small blush crosses your cheeks and you duck your head to hide it. It earns yet another chuckle from him. Your moment is interrupted by another guy who approaches the two of you. “Hey, Y/N, if you’re free, do you think you could help me out with this? I don’t really understand it,” 

Kaeya just looks at the guy and sighs, then turns to you again. “See what I mean?” to which you just goofily smile at. 

Kazuha 

“You saw what?”

Your hands freeze, holding the book you were reading open. The living room had gotten lively again, seeing as your little brother had come home from school. “I saw Kazuha with a girl,” 

You try to keep your face composed. It was a school day. You’d stayed home because you weren’t feeling too well. Your brother was saying it without a care in the world. He was just a grade schooler and telling you about the things he observed. He was looking through the fridge for something to drink. 

You didn’t ask more, but you were DYING to know more. Kazuha didn’t mention going anywhere today... You picked your phone up and wondered if you should ask him. Your phone had blown up this morning cause he didn’t see you at school and he was wondering if you were alright. 

But it seems that Kazuha himself was having a grand time too.

“So...T-The girl...Did they look close?”

Your little brother closes the fridge and looks at you while drinking from a milk carton. “Mm...They were holding each other...” You bit your lip as tingles run down your spine. They weren’t the good kind. It was the kind that you get when you watch horror movies and or a drama movie and a revelation had just happened. You were silent for a moment, but in your mind you were already thinking of how Kazuha looked with another girl. Holding each other? What did your brother mean? Like...hugging? Or...? But you couldn’t ask him about that, could you?!

You sighed out loud and slammed the book you were reading down on the table, just as your phone started ringing. “Kazuha,” you whispered under your breath and looked at your phone screen. Well...you believed in him, and you thought the best way to clear this up is to talk to him about it.

So, you grabbed your phone and retreated into your bedroom to talk to him. You picked up the call, “Kazu-kun?”

“Y/N,” he greeted. Even apart, his voice has this effect on you. Like he was really there and breathing into your ear, sending shivers down your spine. You were sure that you were blushing. “How are you? Are you feeling better?” His voice is smooth and calm and you melt into your bed. “Yeah, a little,”

“Could I come over later? I just want to check on you,” You smile into your phone and close your eyes. Kazuha could never do that to you, you think to yourself. But still, you really wanted to ask. “Of course, I don’t think my parents would mind...Hey,” you start, your fingers nervously drawing circles on your pillow. “My brother said he saw you...with a girl,”

There’s silence on the other line, and you can hear him shifting a little. “A...girl?” He repeats the question and you bite your lip. He sounds unsure and now you were unsure too. “Yeah, he said that you were holding on to each other...or something,” Again some silence, until he makes a sound of understanding.

“Ah, he must mean Sango,” there’s a little lilt to his voice, like he was happy and you were a little jealous. “Sango’s my cousin, she came to surprise me for my birthday week.” Kazuha laughs nervously and adds a little hesitantly. “She...uhm...would like to meet you actually, is it okay if I bring her over today?” 

Your heart sighs in relief, as do you and you don’t realize that you’ve done that out loud. In the next moment though, you smile and nod, even though he can’t see you. “Of course! Bring her over!” 

Albedo (More fluff than angst)

Cleaning at home was one of the things you did to get your mind off of things. Some people would call it tedious, but to you, it was sort of relaxing. It was something easy to do, you didn’t need much of your brain, just motor memory. Folding. Laundry. Ironing. Sweeping. Basic chores.

But when you clean up in the bedroom you shared with your boyfriend, and found a neatly wrapped present, red wrapping paper and blue ribbon tied on the top with a tag that said “To: Leila” you’re a little dumbfounded.

Who’s Leila? Is your first thought. Your second thought is, what’s inside? You hold the nicely wrapped box in your hand and turn it all over, trying to get some type of hint. A flash of doubt seeps into your mind but you shake it away. Albedo isn’t like that...Is he? He’s always so dedicated to his scientific research and sure he comes home late sometimes but he always makes it up to you on the weekends...

So who’s Leila? You ask yourself again. And why hasn’t he mentioned it to you? Why didn’t he ask YOU to wrap it? Menial tasks like these were usually passed on to you. You bite your thumb just thinking about it, but in the end just leave the present where you find it.

Later that night as you’re fixing dinner, you aren’t as bothered by the gift as when you first saw it. But it’s still there at the back of your mind and it resurfaces to the front when you hear the familiar keys rattle. Despite that, as he snakes his arms around your waist from behind you can’t help but smile and melt a little, pressing back against him as he leans over to kiss your cheek. “...Smells nice,” he simply mumbles and closes his eyes, enjoying the warmth of both you and your home.

“Welcome back,” you say, while closing the lid on the pot and turning around to give him a proper kiss on the lips. He hums into the kiss as a response and pulls you away from the stove. “How’s your day?” he asks you first and you smile, because your day is nearly the same time and time again. “Fine, I did find a little secret though...” you start and peek up at his beautiful eyes. 

He nods to ask you to continue. “A present, nicely wrapped. and it’s addressed to someone called Leila,” He looks down at you and you stare at him. A moment passes by before he takes his arms back and go into his thinking pose. “...Leila...?” he asks, eyes averting from your gaze. You wonder if he’s pretending. You wonder if he’s trying to make an excuse up. “...I don’t--” and then his eyebrows twitch. “Ah,” he says and drops his arms to his side.

“We were invited to a birthday party, remember? By a co-worker,” he tucks in strands of your hair as he talks. “It’s her daughter’s first birthday...I don’t care much for such things but you insisted it’d be alright to go.” he chuckles a little. “Her daughter’s name is Leila,” 

You make a sound of understanding. Suddenly your hesitant thoughts wither away. “Hmmm? You could’ve asked me to wrap the present,” Albedo pulls away from you and towards the fridge, wanting a glass of water. “The wrapping wasn’t done by me, it was the shop, free service,” and so it made more sense.

And although you want to ask more questions, like where he got it, when and what’s inside, you realize it’s such a trivial thing. It was not worth that much time. A gift is a gift, and you turn back to continue making dinner while making idle conversation with him. 

Zhongli (Warning: Suggestive) (but this is also my personal favourite... aha...)

“Zhongli?” You arrive home a little early today, dropping your keys at the front shelf. You don’t hear him anywhere and you shuffle around your living room for a while, looking at the letters for today. 

He was on a work from home arrangement today, and he would usually be in his office. You were quite sure that he would’ve come out to greet you though, if he heard you. He must be busy at the moment. 

You’d wanted to wash your hands as soon as you came home, and went for the guest washroom. When you open the door, your eyes land on something on the counter, next to the sink. This bathroom was always kept clean for visitors. You liked to host people once in a while, or just invite friends and you took pride in having them comfortable in your house.

Your eyes narrow as you go closer and your hands pick up a pregnancy test that was lying there. 

It was positive.

You put it back down and shudder a little. You don’t remember getting a pregnancy test. You bite your lip and look at yourself in the mirror. You’re already jumping to conclusions, and you can’t help it. Who the hell would leave a pregnancy test in YOUR guest bathroom? Zhongli didn’t mention anything...

You sigh a breath out and close the bathroom door behind you, taking your phone out to text your best friend.

“There’s a positive pregnancy test in our guest bathroom,”

After a moment, there’s a reply.

“OMG Are you preggers?!”

“No, it’s not mine,”

The next reply takes a moment more. “Oh, maybe ask him?” and you know that your friend hadn’t known what to reply at that moment. Because a random positive pregnancy test in your guest bathroom was NOT a good sign. To top it off, you didn’t announce to Zhongli that you were coming home early today.

Your perk up when you hear noise from the other room. You open the bathroom door slightly, and hear the unmistakable low voice of your fiance, coupled with...the voice of another woman. You close the bathroom door again, not bothering to lock it, and sit on the closed toilet seat. You’re sitting there with nothing in your mind, unable to think.

A few minutes later the voices are louder, they’ve moved to the living room, right outside the bathroom you were in. You tense up, and your jaw tightens. You don’t want to see them. You don’t want to hear them. For a moment you wish that you didn’t come home early, and just pretend this didn’t happen, but the door to the bathroom door opens, leaving you eye to eye with a woman you recognize.

Luna was a beautiful woman. Long cascading brown hair, they’re wavy and stops right at her waist. Doll-like blue eyes and a slender body. She sees you sitting there and you feel stupid, but she just breaks into a grin. “Y/N!” she grabs you by the wrist and pulls you out of the bathroom before you could even say anything. You’re numb, so you don’t respond to anything around you.

Zhongli turns around wide-eyed to see you standing there meekly, not meeting his gaze. He still goes to you though and asks curiously. “When did you come in? I didn’t hear you,” he places a hand on your arm while Luna releases you, but you still don’t look up and he wonders if something happened at your workplace to make you come home so early. “Luna and Childe stopped by,” Zhongli says, in at attempt to cheer you up. You look up, and only then did you realize that Childe was there too, talking animatedly to Luna. You tilt your head sideways, “They came with a surprise. Ah, but it’s not mine to tell,” 

That’s right... Luna and Childe had been together for a while and then it hits you when Luna shows you the same positive pregnancy test you saw on the counter, and announces that she’s pregnant. Your eyes are wide. You can’t tell if you’re more relieved that it wasn’t what you thought or more happy for your friends. You feel horrible about it but you manage to crack a smile and went along with the festivities. The more time passed the more you were able to enjoy their happiness and by the time they left, that was the only time you sighed and let your shoulders slump, exhausted.

“Is something the matter?” Zhongli asked. He noticed how your smiles were a tad bit forced. How you seemed to enjoy everything but also seemed to be on edge. You turn to him and shook your head. “It’s...stupid. It’s my mistake,” but he holds on to your waist and urges you to tell him.

And you tell him. How you came home and saw what you saw in the guest bathroom, what you thought it was and how you felt. The only thing you can feel now is embarrassment and shame. You couldn’t even feel happy for your friend. Zhongli only smiles and combs his hand through your hair. “It’s the normal reaction,” he reassures you, again trying to make you feel better. You only respond with your own hug but his next sentence makes you flustered, all thoughts of earlier gone as he whispers into your ear.

“Would you like your own positive pregnancy test?”

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[ahs-source]

Happy Friday! Welcome to this week’s Fanfiction Friday! Thank you to those who submitted these fantastic works for this week’s Fanfiction Friday. Let’s celebrate these wonderful works that you can all read while in quarantine! Please stay safe!

As Above, So Below (Completed) by 7_wonders (AO3) Relationships: Michael Langdon x Female Reader | Tags: Hades & Persephone au | Completed (23/23 Chapters) | 71441 words

Your average, mundane life as a college student is flipped upside down when the man you thought you knew as your next-door neighbor turns out to be the God of the Dead. When Michael lures you down to Hell, everything that you thought you knew about the world is proven wrong.

Headache (Completed) by heramew (AO3) Relationships: Fiona Goode x Myrtle Snow | Tags: Abuse, Hurt/Comfort, young Fiona and Myrtle | Completed (1/1 Chapters) | 2098 words

1971, Fiona and her friends sneaked up to a party in town, but things didn't go as planned.

Headfirst for Halos (WIP) by @hellish-ramblings-of-an-emo​ (Tumblr) Relationships: Tate Langdon x Female Reader | Warnings: allusions to both physical and emotional abuse from a family member, actual physical abuse between a freshman and a senior, allusions to mental illnesses such as depression, student v. student violence. A certain way an event was phrased could be considered an allusion to molestation. strong language. a reference to homophobic slurs (none were used) | Completed (1/? Chapters) | 1240 words

I truly believe there isn’t a sound as horrible as the sound of my alarm. The repetitive chimes shoot straight to the center of my brain. It’s horrible. My bones crack as I attempt to get out of bed, a groan instinctively leaving my throat. I was dizzy, the light peeking through from between my blinds making my head throb. My shitty alarm clock read 6:27AM. 15 minutes until my ride gets here.

Love Like Winter (Completed) by @dailylangdon​​ (Tumblr) Relationships: Winter Anderson x Female Reader | Warnings: Oral sex, alcohol use, fingering, lack of plot | Completed (1/1 Chapters) | 549 words

How did you end up like this?

You hadn’t seen her in god knows how long. She was just a girl you knew from school. It was Christmas break from college and by chance you ran into her on your first night back in town.

She took you to her place and you split a frozen cherry lime wine cooler. The two of you talked about old times and dissolved into giggles. Next thing you knew, every piece of your clothing was hastily peeled off your body.

Resistance is Futile (Completed) by Sojourne (AO3) Relationships: Michael Langdon x Female Reader | Tags: Dubious Consent, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Demons, Bondage, Begging, Size Difference, Size Kink, Dirty Talk, Oral Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Fingerfucking, Hand & Finger Kink, Overstimulation, Choking, Hair-pulling, Demons, Demon Summoning, Spanking, Rough Sex | Completed (1/1 Chapters) | 5355 words

Soon after moving into your new apartment, you realize that something isn't quite right. It's constantly cold, you always feel like someone is watching you, and things start moving around on their own.

Turns out, one of the past tenants summoned a demon and then trapped him here, and now he's upset with you invading his territory. Uh-oh.

Demon AU

Run Rabbit Run (Completed) by @maso-xchrist​​​​ (Tumblr) Relationships: Michael Langdon x Female Reader | Warnings: PURE SMUT. Non/dub-con, chasing, violence, mimicry, knifeplay, cutting, stabbing, choking, hanging, & blood consumption. In other words, not for the faint of heart! | Completed (1/1 Chapters) | 6k+ words

A single heart beats in the outpost.

Security Blanket (Completed) by @mxnstersarehuman​​​​​​ (Tumblr) Relationships: Kai Anderson x Female Reader | Prompt: Hey could you write something maybe for a softer Kai Anderson x reader idc what I’m sorry I know this isn’t really specific just softer Kai thanks if you can! | Completed (1/1 Chapters)

You hear the slam of the door and immediately know Kai is home. Things had been so hectic as of late and he was always so busy with his cult so you always made sure to stay up for his return home just so you could see him. Even if it was only for a few minutes before fatigue took over and you both fell asleep.

Kai was a terrifying person, mean and vindictive and manipulative and cruel, all things that he had never been towards you. Everyone in the cult had thought you were crazy for accepting his proposal of a date when he had offered a year ago, but you saw something in his eyes when he asked you. His request wasn’t demanding like you would’ve expected, rather polite and genuinely inquisitive as to whether you actually liked him romantically.

So of course you had said yes.

thanatos (Completed) by SophieGraceJ (AO3) Relationships: Michael Langdon x Mallory | Tags: Immobilisation kink, Smut, Rape/Non-con Elements, Creepy, Blood and Gore, fairytale!au, Snow White!Au, dark!millory, this is dark, Death, cosmic horror kinda | Completed (1/1 Chapters) | 2537 words

“There’s something in these forests.” “Something … something venomous. It’s been killing me since I arrived here. It is what drains me of life, what keeps me bed ridden.” “But I cannot leave. I protect the people. Now I pass this onto you, this destiny is yours now Mallory.”

She fell, fell deep into the grave, body unmoving. At first, she suspected it was sleep. But it wasn’t. No.

Her eyes blinking again, vision clear. She could see, hear, smell … but not touch. Couldn’t move a finger, couldn’t wriggle her toes, couldn’t open her mouth to gasp when time passed.

He met her gaze, and his eyes widened. Only just discovering an intimacy. He smiled some more. This time, it reached his eyes, although they wept with tears, copying her own.

The Devil Incarnate (Completed) by jeromevaleska​​​​​ (AO3) Relationships: Michael Langdon x Female Reader | Tags: POV Second Person, Eventual Smut, Banter, Slow Burn, Family Drama, Lots of plot, Reader-Insert, Explicit Language, Slow Build, Sexual Tension, it starts off when miriam brings michael into her home, there will be smut ya'll already know, Reader-Interactive, Eventual Sex, there's some tension between you and michael, you don't trust him at all, Porn With Plot, i'll add tags as the story goes on, Love/Hate, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Dysfunctional Relationships, Explicit Sexual Content, Developing Relationship | Completed (23/23 Chapters) | 142022 words

You're Miriam Mead's daughter, and you two have a complicated relationship to say the least. You think she's more than a little bonkers with her religious beliefs, and no matter how much she has tried to make you follow the same dark path, it's in vain. But when Miriam welcomes Michael into your home, you start to question everything and you just might become a believer.

the love that discovered the sin (Completed) by @lvngdvns​​​​​ (Tumblr) Relationships: Michael Langdon x Female Reader x Timothy Howard | Warnings: Fingering, oral sex (fem. receiving), threesome, rough sex, double penetration, anallingus, anal sex, vaginal sex, degradation, choking, cum eating, religion kink, biblical allusions/perversion of scripture, all things blasphemous and unholy. Literally just sacrilegious PWP. (+ crack ship pairing) | Completed (1/1 Chapters) | 4.4k words

“Bless me father,” she breathes into Timothy’s ear as she crawls astride his lap, slipping a finger underneath the rim of his collar and pulling it free in a single, effortless motion, “for I have sinned.”

Untitled pt. 2 (pt.1 here) by @writerforprompt​​ (Tumblr) Relationships: Kai Anderson x Female Reader | Warnings: Oral Sex, Manipulation, Mention of Drug Use, Vaginal Sex, Dark Themes, Pregnancy | Completed (1/1 Chapters) | 2350 words 

You were kneeling in between Kai’s legs, head tilted towards the sky, arching your throat into his grip. You brought your chest forward to make sure it was directly within his line of sight. Based upon the number of hungry glances he shot down your plunging neckline, you’d say it was.

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Previous FF Fridays: 1 | 2a + 2b | 3 | 4a + 4b | 5 | 6

[lilulo-12fanfiction]

Rain Song- Chapter 1

So here is Chapter 1! This is super long. Almost 10K words. I’m not even sorry. lol I did want to get through this as it is mostly background information on who Hope is. 

I’m taking liberties here. So if something isn’t factually correct...it is what it is. Since this is an OC story cannon will variate. 

I hope you enjoy this chapter! If you would like to be tagged, please let me know! I also write for TVD, Supernatural & The Avengers. You can view each masterlist list at the top of my page.

Also- does anyone do character art/ digital portraits? I’d love for someone to put one together of Hope for me. 

Series Masterlist

12 Years Later

Hope slowly stretched her arms out in front of her. She felt the release of the tension she hadn’t realized she had been holding onto. She pulled the earphones off of her head and cracked her neck. She felt a slight smile come to her face. Her Uncle Remus couldn’t understand her obsession with Muggle music. Yet whenever she spoke of the genius that was Freddy Mercury or her obsession with The Beatles he got a far away look in his eyes. There were things from his past that he outright refused to discuss. She stopped pushing for answers a long time ago. She couldn’t bear to cause him any pain. All she knew was that on Halloween when she was just shy of 2 years old her mother sacrificed her life to save Hope’s as her Uncle carried her to safety. Her father, was in Azkaban for life after he sided with Voldemort. Her Uncle was one of the rare few who would speak Voldemort's name. Her Uncle wouldn’t let her fear his name. She had seen to many shudder at the mere thought of the Dark Wizard. Remus wanted her to be strong. With Remus' strength and bravery, also came a sense of fear. She knew he was afraid his former supporters would someday come after her, so they stayed hidden away on their beach cottage. He tutored her in her magical studies when she became old enough. She loved her Uncle beyond measure and he was a brilliant teacher; but Hope craved more. She longed to have peers that understood her. Sure, she had made friends with the Muggle Children that came to the beach for holidays and the few that lived near year 'round, but it wasn’t the same. The only contact she had with other magical children were The Weasley family. She saw them on the rare occasion that Andromeda couldn’t stay with her when her Uncle’s condition kept him from her. Her cousin Nymphadora was much older than she, and while she adored her, she still couldn't relate. All Hope wanted was a couple of really good friends.

Hope had been sitting on the beach sketching for hours. What she was drawing, she wasn’t quite sure yet. That was how she controlled the visions that plagued her, she put them down on paper. Drawing and painting calmed her mind. The music pounding into her ears quieted the other noises. Lately, her visions had quite literally taken a dark turn. She had a persistent dull headache that would sometimes push her into a migraine for the day. Everything was black. That’s all she could draw was black. Black shapes, black lines and sometimes she filled the page with shadings of black. She could see the concern in her Uncle's eyes when he would peek at her drawings, but he said nothing. She hadn’t quite figured out how to piece her visions together yet, everything was still very jumbled. Often times they would make sense after the event occured, she was hoping to use those experiences to learn how to read them. She was still young. Remus was impressed with how far she had come on her own. He had tried to find someone to help her, but hadn't had any luck. From what he had told Hope, the Divinations teacher at Hogwarts would not be able to assist her. The one thing she had learned to control was pulling images from others. She figured out how to touch others without being overwhelmed with their thoughts. On a rare occasion where she wasn’t prepared did it happen. It always overwhelmed her and she hated invading anyone else’s privacy. Remus had shown her memories of her mother that way, when he couldn’t find the correct words. His memories were muted though. There was something he was trying to shield her from.

Hope leaned back and closed her eyes, letting the sun radiate light into the darkness that was swirling inside. Today was her favorite kind of day. The sun was hot and the water was clear. The breeze was blowing to keep her cool. Her wild blonde curls were piled on top of her head, the wind causing wisps to come free and blow around her face. She wanted every day to be like this, warmness and Led Zepplin pulsing through her veins. Yet the persistent pinch in her forehead was making it impossible to completely enjoy the day. Hope looked down at her watch and cursed. She had been gone an hour longer than she had anticipated. She quickly threw her sketch book, pencils and her disc man into her bag. She brushed the sand off her denim cut offs as she stood and threw her t-shirt back on over her bathing suit. Quickly she donned her flip flops and made the half mile walk back to the beach cottage she resided in with her beloved Uncle.

As she approached the house, something felt different. There was a tense energy in the air that caused a chill to go down her spine. She just wanted a day where she didn’t feel anxiety or cold. She wanted one day where the needling in her brain gave her peace. It had been far too long since she had a day like that. Something in her world was changing, she could feel it. She feared it was something that would color her whole world black, not just the pictures she had stashed in her bag. She saw a figure standing in the kitchen with her Uncle. By the way he was standing, she could see tension spilling from his every muscle. She quietly snuck in to try and overhear what they were saying.

“Remus it’s time. You can no longer keep her sequestered away. While I'm sure you are teaching her everything she needs to know, she needs to be around children her own age. She has lived almost as much of a muggle existence as young Harry. She will be safer at Hogwarts. Every manner of protection will be used for the school.” The voice was kind, grandfatherly almost. Hope’s ears perked up at the mention of Hogwarts. How she had longed to attend. To learn magic, make real friends, create an extended family beyond her and Remus. Hope was so lonely. Her thoughts of loneliness always made her feel an overwhelming sense of guilt. Her uncle had given up his entire young life for her, he should be enough for her. It made her feel incredibly selfish.

“Albus- there are still things she does not know. Things I can’t even begin to tell her-“ Dumbledore held his hand up to stop Remus from continuing.

“Hello Hope.” The gentle voice called out her name and she froze. She had barely stepped two feet into the house and she had been discovered, so much for sneaking in and eavesdropping. She set her bag down and slowly stepped into the kitchen. Her Uncle seemed more agitated than she had ever seen him. Uncle Remus almost never got angry or irritated, he always had an abundance of patience for her.

Her attention was quickly drawn to the tall man who had called her name. He had long silver hair and silver beard. His crooked nose reminded her of Billy Berkshire’s after she had punched him in the face for teasing another girl she had befriended one summer. Resting on his nose were half moon spectacles that allowed a clear view of his kind blue eyes. He donned the most magnificent purple robes she had ever seen. He was oddly wonderful. She just hoped none of the neighborhood kids saw him, she’d have some explaining to do. She knew the man before her was Albus Dumbledore, she never expected he would ever be standing in her kitchen.

“Hello.” Hope’s voice was filled with trepidation. Why would she need to be protected? She knew her Uncle was keeping secrets, but to hear him admit it to someone else was jarring.

“Come darling, sit.” She nodded and made her way to the table. Dumbledore also took a seat.

“I’m sorry for being late. I lost track of time.” Dumbledore was staring at her with an odd expression.

“It’s quite alright. Hope, this is-“

“Albus Dumbledore.” She finished the sentence before he could. She felt ill at ease as the blue eyes studied her. She wasn’t used to being studied quite so intently.

“Well I see my reputation has proceeded me. I hope your Uncle shared only the good things.” He gave her a kind smile that calmed her nerves. “I apologize for staring. It just, you are so very much like your mother. I wasn’t expecting it.” It was something Hope heard often. She would catch her Uncle staring at her, a sad look on his face, but only when he thought she wasn’t paying attention. Andromeda had said many times how much Hope resembled her mother. As far as Hope could tell, the only thing she got from her father were her eyes.

“Why am I in danger?” Hope wasn’t interested in beating around the bush. She watched as her Uncle rolled his jaw.

“Your father has escaped from Azkaban.” Remus finally spoke. Hope felt like she had been slapped. Her father- the man she had wondered about for her whole life. The man her uncle could barely spoke of. She had only seen a few pictures, but his handsome and wild features were forever etched into her brain. All Hope knew was that Sirius Black had been best friends with her Uncle, James Potter and Peter Pettigrew. He fell in love with her mother while she was in her 4th year and Sirius was in his 6th at Hogwarts. They married shortly after Nora’s graduation. Remus had always stressed how much her father had loved her and loved her mother. It had been discovered that he was a Death Eater and after Voldemort’s fall he was sentenced to Azkaban. Remus would provide no other details, regardless of how hard she pressed. The idea of meeting her father was exhilarating. Only he could provide the answers she most craved. Yet she was terrified of him. What if he came to their home and hurt Remus to get to her. She had read all about the Dementors of Azkaban. She knew what they did to their inhabitants. Her father had spent 12 years there.

“That’s why you’ve been so tense this past week. Why I haven’t seen a single page of The Daily Prophet. Remus nodded.

“I didn’t know how to tell you.” He admitted. He reached behind him and pulled a news paper out of one of the cupboards and handed it to her. The man on the front page was not the man she had seen pictures of. He was gaunt and had a waxy appearance to his skin. His once beautifully groomed hair was long and matted. She felt her eyes well up. She should be horrified, but yet she felt her heart break. How could she feel that for a man that caused so much terror?

“We are afraid he will come looking for you. We don’t know what kind of state he is in. But 12 years in Azkaban would have made an impact on his mental state.” Dumbledore was trying to be as sensitive as possible. “We think it’s time for you to join your classmates at Hogwarts. You would be under intense protection and would have the best magical education. Not to say that you haven’t done a splendid job, Remus.”

“We?” Hope looked to her Uncle. It didn’t matter how badly she wanted to go, she would never leave without his blessing. Remus ran his hand down his face. He took Hope’s hand in his as he had done many times, knowing it would ground her.

“Yes. We. Professor Dumbledore is right, as always. Hogwarts can offer you protection that I cannot. And it’s time for you to be around witches and wizards of your own age. I should have sent you two years ago. It was my own fear that stopped me.” Hope felt a jolt of excitement. That gave Remus peace of mind. Yet as quickly as he saw her stormy eyes light up, it died just as quickly.

“But yo- you’ll be alone. And if he comes here, will you be safe? What, what would happen to me if something happened to you?” Remus could see the panic setting in.

“As it so happens-“ Dumbledore interjected “It seems I am in need of a Defense Against The Arts teacher yet again. I was hoping Remus that you would consent to returning to Hogwarts with Hope.” Dumbledore watched Hope’s body relax as she looked expectantly at her Uncle.

“Albus, are you sure? My condition-“

“Is managed by your Wolfsbane potion. You’ve managed to raise an exceptional young lady. I assume you can handle teaching a few classes.” There was no way Remus could say no, not with how his niece was staring at him expectantly.

“If you’re sure Albus, I would be delighted.”

“Now, Hope, Hogwarts doesn’t normally have a student start midway through their education. Your peers have much more knowledge on the school than you will. I think it will be best to have you come a few weeks prior to the other students. I would like to get you sorted into your house and settled before they return.”

“But that’s around the time of the full moon, Uncle Remus won’t be able to bring me.”

“Hope- you will have to go without me and I will meet you there in September 1st.”

“Professor McGonagall will be there to get you acquainted with the school.” Hope sat for a moment with her thoughts. She didn’t like the idea of being away from her Uncle for that long, but this had been what she always wanted.

“Okay.” She agreed.

“Splendid. Remus, I trust you can get Hope to Diagon Alley for her books and supplies. I will send an owl with her list.” Hope had so many questions for Dumbledore but didn’t know where to even start. He was already standing and she couldn’t get her thoughts together. “I will see you both very soon.” Then, with a crack, Albus Dumbledore was gone.

“Go get washed up darling. I’ll start dinner.” Her uncle stood to go and prepare them something to eat. She knew the question portion of the evening had ended. She would get no further information from him that night.

**************************************************************************************

A week and a half later Hope was pacing her room. She had 3 days before she was to arrive at Hogwarts. She had gotten no further information from her Uncle. They had just gotten home from having dinner with what Hope thought was her only other family. Except Nymphadora had come home for dinner to see Hope. It had been a long time since she had seen her. Her Auror training kept her quite busy.

“Hopefully that little prat Malfoy doesn’t give you a hard time. I hate admitting that he’s our cousin.” After she said it, Hope knew she realized she let something slip.

“I’m sure everything will be fine!” Ted had exclaimed.

“Hope you will love Hogwarts. It is beautiful.” Hope glanced at her Uncle out of the corner of her eye and he was carefully avoiding her gaze. She picked at her food as the four of them talked fondly of Hogwarts. Hope stewed in her own anger instead.

Hope felt rage building within her. She wasn’t a baby anymore. She’d be 14 soon. Granted she wasn’t an adult, she could handle a lot more than Remus had given her credit for. He had led her to believe that himself and The Tonks were her only remaining family. That was clearly a lie. He had been careful to not provide any information on the rest of her Father’s family.

Remus knew what was coming. The other trait Hope inherited from Sirius was her temper. While she held it together much better than Sirius ever did, when she hit her breaking point, she was explosive. She was like a hurricane and he was approaching the eye of the storm. Remus had never been on the receiving end of her anger. He knew tonight would be the night. He knew he would have to give her answers. He could not believe he didn’t consider Draco Malfoy knowing of his relation to Hope.

But what could he tell her to ease her mind? What could he tell her to make her feel better. Any information he had to give her on her father and he wretched family would only hurt her. He knew that hurt all to well. All he wanted to do was shield her from the pain that he knew Sirius had carried with him. He was being idealistic. Wasn’t it better that it came from him and not someone else?

He winced as her bedroom door slammed. He took a deep breath and approached her room. A teenage Hope was something he was ill prepared for. The older she got, the more she became her mother which included Nora’s deep sarcasm and sass, that coupled with anger would mean a most unpleasant experience.

“Hope- please open the door.” Remus sighed leaning against the wall. “You do realize I can just use my wand to open in.” He could picture her face as she considered his words and he braved himself. As anticipated her door whipped open. “We need to talk.” She gave him a withering look.

“Now you want to talk? You’ve had 12 years to talk.”

“Hope-“

“No! Don't 'Hope' Me! I have family! I have a cousin my own age! AND YOU KEPT ME FROM THEM! FOR 12 years all you have done is LIE to me!” Remus had expected anger, but the bitterness that was pouring from her took him by surprise. He heard it so often from Sirius. He felt right then that he had failed Hope. He wanted to save her from this. “I have no friends that actually know me. They think I’m a little weird and that I’m sick because I have these headaches all of the time. They don’t understand me because they’re muggles! I’m alone.” Her last two words were spoken as a sob. Remus realizes the magnitude of his mistake. He felt like an outcast for most of his life. His condition made it hard to really connect with anyone. Everyone thought he was just ill. It wasn’t until James, Sirius and Peter that he felt truly accepted. He at least had his sister before that. Hope had no siblings. Remus pulled his niece into an embrace and she struggled against him for a moment. She finally gave in and let him hold her as she cried. Once she settled down he led her to their living room to sit on the couch.

“Hope, I am so sorry. I didn’t mean to isolate you. I didn’t even realize how alone you felt. All I have wanted, all I have ever wanted is to keep you safe. But, I kept you away from your living relatives because it was what your mother wanted.” Hope looked up at her Uncle in utter confusion. Her tear filled face almost broke him. Her silence urged him to continue. “Your father comes from a long line of Pureblood Wizards. The entire Black family are blood purists. Your father and Andromeda were the only ones to push against that. In fact, your father being sorted into Gryffindor was a huge scandal. He ended up being disowned and moved in with James. His parents welcomed him like he was their own. That is why your middle name is Euphemia. It was James’ mother’s name. Sirius’ mother loathed YOUR mother for being a half-blood. When Nora died, the Black family tried to take you from me. Your mother wanted you no where near their hateful rhetoric. They also had no leg to stand on in getting custody of you. So I kept you away from the magical community as much as I could so they couldn’t try to get their hands on you. I just didn’t realize how damaging it was to you. The majority of that family were Death Eaters. They were responsible for your mother’s death. As for Draco Malfoy being your cousin, his mother Narcissa is Andromeda’s sister. Her husband, Lucius Malfoy was among the top of the Death Eater food chain. He also escaped Azkaban by claiming he was under the imperius curse. He continues to believe in blood purity and has unfortunately ingrained that ideal into his son. Hope, I promise you that if anyone other than Andromeda had been a good person I wouldn’t have kept you away.”

“If my father was so against everything that his family stood for, how is it that he ended up being a Death Eater? Did HE kill my mother? What did Voldemort want with her?” Remus could see you spiraling. He took a deep breath and continued.

“Darling I honestly don’t know why your father sis what he did. I do know he loved you and my sister very much. I’m not sure what caused him to switch sides. I can tell you that I am sure he is not the one that hurt your mother. That is unimaginable to me. He started pulling away from me before that. Your mother trusted him implicitly. I wish I had more information for you Hope. As for why Voldemort wanted your mother, it was her Seer abilities. He could have done so much more damage if he had someone like her on his side. That was another reason to keep you away from Sirius’ family. If they were to get their hooks into as a child, they could have corrupted you and manipulated you into doing their bidding.” Hope was silent for a few moments.

“Hope, I’m sorry for the pain I have caused you. I know what it is like to feel like an outcast. To feel so alone and that no one will ever understand you. I should have know. I am so sorry.” He felt Hope lean back into him and he wrapped his arms around her. He couldn’t bring himself to tell you that your father was the reason that James and Lily Potter were dead. That would have been a horrific blow. His mind drifted to the small vault at Gringott’s that held Hope’s name. Inside was the money that Sirius and Nora had amassed from the inheritance Sirius got from his Uncle. Remus made sure to use it carefully to take care of his niece, never using any of it on himself. What really stuck in his mind were the few journals and vials that Nora had left for her daughter. Keeping those from her was something he had struggled with for years. But she were still too young. He was not going to burden her any further. Perhaps in a year or so when Hope came into her own he would bring them to herS There was too much darkness for her young mind. He needed to preserve Hope’s innocence for as long as he could.

“Does Harry Potter know who I am?” Nora knew of Harry. How he had somehow stopped Voldemort. How the two had played together as children. When his parents died he was brought to live with his Muggle family. Hope had overheard Remus and Andromeda mention the Sorcerers Stone and The Chamber of Secrets. It seemed that Harry had a knack for getting into trouble. Hope had tried to catch more details, but the adults in her life were always careful to not share too much information.

“I don’t think that he does. His muggle family doesn’t look kindly on the magical community. From what Dumbledore told me, he didn't even know he was a Wizard until Hagrid had to personally deliver his Hogwarts letter. Apparently his Aunt and Uncle were determined to keep him away from magic and wouldn't give him his letter. He hasn’t been around many people that know of the history that links the two of you. The Weasley children wouldn’t know to mention you. I doubt Molly or Arthur would tell them any personal details without speaking with me first. Dumbledore and the other professors wouldn’t say anything. But you will meet him soon enough.” Hope was itching to meet Harry Potter. Not because he was famous, but because he was a connection the past you so desperately wanted to know. Remus studied your face for a moment, watching you process what he was saying. "You and Harry have quite a bit in common. I have a feeling that you will be good friends. James and Lily would have wanted that, as would your mother."

“Will I ever understand what happened?" How did a loving father and husband turn into a mass murderer? Hope couldn't reconcile the two people that encompassed who her father was.

"Perhaps someday, when you're older you'll be able to reach a level of peace." That didn't really answer her question. Hope still felt like he was holding back, but this was more than they had ever discussed before.

"I'm sorry for shouting at you." Hope looked down, deeply ashamed. She had gotten better at controlling her temper, but occasionally she lost control. She had never behaved this way towards her uncle..

"Oh darling, it's alright. I'm sure this wont be the only go you have at me. You are after all your mother's daughter. She was never afraid to give me a piece of her mind." Hope was grateful for his never ending patience with her.

"I think I'm going to go to bed. I love you, Uncle Remus, very much." She felt his facial hair tickle the side of her head as he gave her a quick kiss.

"I love you too, get some rest." Hope retreated to her bedroom. The polarized descriptions of her father running through her head. What if she was also polarized. The way her Uncle had raised her was the exact opposite of what the Black family believed. But if the entire half of her family were comprised of Dark Wizards, did she have that capability too? In the end, her father had turned that way. Maybe that was why all she could see was black. She too, would turn bad in the end as well.

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Hope sat staring into the fire. All of her things had been sent to Hogwarts and were waiting for her arrival. She had spent the morning on her beloved beach. She knew she would miss the briny smell of the air, the way the water would bite at her toes. She wanted to give the Ocean a proper goodbye. It had been her best friend for as long as she could remember. Now the only thing left to do was take the Floo into Professor McGonagall’s office. All of the excitement she had felt had turned into nerves. She had never been apart from her Uncle for more than a few days. Two weeks seemed like an eternity to be with strangers. She knew she was being silly, but she felt the tears welling up in her eyes as she waited for her Uncle to see her off. She looked down at the wand in her hand. 10 1/2 inches of birch wood with a Phoenix core. She had always loved the black and white of birch trees. How the black bark bled into the white leaving shades of gray. The Phoenix feather core gave her a little bit of trouble at first. Remus had reassured her that her wand just needed to get to know her. Phoenix cores were known to be powerful, yet took a while to gain control. In the end, he had been right. She slid her wand into the small bag at her feet and looked back at the fire.

Her visions and dreams had taken a strange form. She felt surges of anger, desperation and an intense sadness. A melancholy so deep she thought she would drown in it. It was affecting her moods more than it every had before. Shades of black and muted grey. But always black. She was starting to loath the color. It was so strange, all she was seeing was the color black, nothing concrete for the past month and a half up until a few nights prior. There had been a flash of purple and a set of green eyes staring back at her. Who they belonged to, she had no idea. Though she assumed she would soon enough. At this point, she only had visions of people she was connected to or came into contact with. Her mother had progressed far beyond that point by the time of her death. Hope didn't know if she would welcome that.

“Ready Darling?” Remus clapped his hands together, smiling at Hope. He too had felt a sinking feeling of being away from Hope for an extended period of time. When he saw the emotion swirling in her eyes he made sure to stuff his back down. “It’s alright. It’s only two weeks.”

“I know.” Hope’s voice felt like sandpaper as it exited her throat. “I’m just nervous.”

“I know. But it will go by quickly. Professor McGonagall will get you acquainted with the school and you’ll meet with your teachers briefly to get to know them. Remember what we talked about.”

“I know. I know. I’m Hope Lupin. I don’t think introducing myself as a member of the Black family will curry me any friends anyway.” Hope scoffed. Remus tried to hide a smile. “No one but Professor Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall know about my abilities so it’s best to keep it quiet for now.”

It had been confirmed that Draco Malfoy knew nothing of their relation. The Minister of Magic himself had instructed Lucius to not breath a word of it and to make sure his wife kept it to herself as well. Hope had no idea why the Minister was so keen on keeping her lineage a secret. It didn’t matter to Hope. She didn’t want to draw any more attention to herself than coming to Hogwarts in the middle of her education would draw. Incidentally, the Weasley children were in the dark about who her father was as well. All they knew was that Hope was the niece of a friend of their Arthur and Molly’s and that she had lost her parents in the war. Remus had never took Hope to The Burrow himself. He had always met up with Arthur. It had been years since they had seen Hope. She always felt overwhelmed by the sheer number of boys in the house. Hope was more inclined to stay with Andromeda and Ted as she got older.

“Just until you’ve found some people that you trust to tell them. Now, Arthur promised me that he spoke to the Fred, George and Ron. They’ll be looking for you when they arrive.”

“What if I’m not in their house?”

“Hope you are brilliant, funny and talented. Regardless of what house you land in, you will make friends. You will find your niche. The same way I did.”

“What if-“ Hope could feel all of her fears that had been festering about to tumble out. “What if I’m a Slytherin? What if I end up just as awful as everyone I’m related to? I mean, my father was wonderful when you were in school and then he turned. What if that is my destiny? What if that is why all I can see is black?” Hope had stood and was pacing. She always paced when she was coming undone. Remus had noticed it had been happening more frequently. He was counting on being at Hogwarts to be a distraction to keep her grounded. Remus stopped her and grabbed her by her shoulders.

“Hope, darling, stop. First of all, all members of Slytherin house are NOT dark wizards. Each house has produced its fair share. If you happen to end up in Slytherin then you will make them proud. You are not destined to go bad. You are not destined to be evil. That’s not how the world works.” He felt her relax. “This is why I’ve always avoided talking to you about them. You are better than that. When you forget that, think of Andeomeda.” Hope nodded her head.

“Okay.” Hope wrapped her arms around her Uncle’s torso and he hugged her tightly.

“Albus and Minerva are there for you while I am not there. But if you need me, all you need to do is send me an owl and I’ll write back immediately.” Hope let go and looked up at her Uncle and forced a smile.

“I’m ready.” He kisses her forehead.

“Remember, it’s only two weeks.” Hope nodded and approached the fireplace. She reached her hand into the bucket and pulled out the floo powder. After taking a deep breath she threw it into the flames.

“Hogwarts!”

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Hope stepped out of the large fireplace and brushed the soot off her her clothing. She really hated traveling by Floo. She looked around the small office. To her left was a large window where she could see the Quidditch pitch and what must have been the training grounds. She had expected a more grandiose office for a Hogwarts Deputy Mistress, but the smallness of it made Hope feel safe. Standing next to the desk was a very tall and stern looking woman. Her black hair was pulled back into a tight bun and she wore the most beautiful shade of emerald green robes. Her sternness melted away when she smiled at Hope.

“Welcome Ms. Lupin. I am Professor McGonagall." Hope smiled back.

"Hello Professor."

"I hope you don't mind me saying, but I have so looked forward to meeting you. I enjoyed teaching your mother and Uncle very much." Hope had been expecting the "you look so much like your mother" speech. She was grateful Minerva McGonagall kept those thoughts to herself, though Hope could see it in her eyes.

“Well I do hope you'll share some stories about my mother with me. Uncle Remus has obviously told me so much, everyday. But it would be nice to hear about her from another person's perspective."

“I would be delighted. I look forward to getting to know you over these next few weeks. First thing we must do is get you sorted." As soon as the words hit the air, there was a knock at the door. "Enter!" Professor McGonagall exclaimed. Hope grinned as Professor Dumbledore entered with a dilapidated looking hat. He was so eccentric and wonderfully odd. He radiated calmness which put Hope at ease.

“It's very good to see you again Hope. We are very happy to have you here."

"I wont lie professor, I was a little nervous leaving my Uncle but I do feel better now that I am here."

"I'm very pleased to hear that. I'm sure you'll find all of the staff at Hogwarts will be very willing to help you get settled. Now, we must get you sorted so we can get you set up in a dorm room." Professor McGonagall conjured a chair and motioned for Hope to take a seat. Her Uncle hadn't told her how they would choose her house. She watched wide eyed as Dumbledore approached and put the filthy looking hat on her curly blonde head. After a moment the hat came to life and it made Hope jump. She watched as McGonagall tried to contain a smirk.

“Well, well....what an interesting mind you have brought for me today.I was wondering when the youngest Black member would be joining us. This one will prove to be very difficult, very difficult indeed. I see that you have a long history of Slytherin blood in your veins, but cunning you are not. An ocean worth of talents much like your parents. Hard working and Loyal would make you an excellent Hufflepuff. But what is this? Bravery and courage, a little stubbornness. There it is...the nerve of your father. Let's make it- Gryffindor!" Hope felt her body relax, not realizing how tense she had been. She at least would have some people she knew in her house and hoped she would be able to call them friends.

“Wonderful Ms. Lupin. I will be your Head of House. You will share your room with Ms. Granger, Ms. Brown & Ms. Patil. I'm sure all 3 girls will be most welcoming. I will have your belongings brought to your room. For now, I will take you around to meet your professors."

At the end of the week, Hope was sitting in the common room of Gryffindor House. She ran her eyes across all of the plush arm chairs and couches that she loved to sink into already. Tables adorned the room near the furniture and there was a large bulletin board, while empty now, she was sure it would start filling up come September. She enjoyed the shades of red and gold around the room. It brightened her day and helped push the blackness back into her mind. She loved the extensive windows that looked out over the beautiful grounds of the school. She was drawn to the scarlet tapestries that depicted witches, wizards and various magical animals. They spoke to the artist within her. Though her favorite part was the extensive book collection on the shelves.

She had sent an owl to her Uncle letting him know she had been placed in the house that her and her mother had resided. Also told him off a bit for not warning her about The Sorting Hat. She hadn’t left out what the hat had said. “There it is, the nerve of your father.” had been swirling in Hope’s brain ever since.

Hope looked up as a hooting stirred her from her thoughts. Perched on the Griffyndor window sill was a Tiny Owl. Not often found in Britain, it had her curious. She was pure black and was hopping around the windowsill with a letter tied to her foot. Hope stood from the squishy arm chair she had planted herself in. As soon as she approached, the owl started nipping at her fingers affectionately. She recognized her Uncle's neat hand writing immediately. With a grin she gave the owl a quick pet and ripped open the letter.

Hope-

I'm sorry for not warning you about the Sorting Hat. But really...the surprise is the best part. Mostly for Professor McGonagall and Dumbledore. I didn't want to deprive them of that. I'm glad you're relieved that you're in Gryffindor. I do hope it is because you know the Weasley family and not because you're still worried about going bad. Your house does not determine whether you are good or bad. Yes, your father did have quite a lot of nerve. If I'm being honest, I see a lot of him in your personality. From his younger and more carefree days. The way your eyes smile when you’re happy. The sound of your laugh. You most certainly have his eyes. Hope, I know that many people compare you to your mother quite often and ignore the traits of Sirius. There was a good person there at one point. The good in him radiates from you. However, you are so much more than the parts of her and the parts of your father that can be seen within you. You are your own person. Please don't forget that. I've attached this letter to a beautiful Tiny Owl I found at Diagon Alley. She is yours. I wanted to get you something special for the start of school. Her black nature is rare, but I wanted you to see that black things can be beautiful. That darkness doesn't always have to be bad. Remember, even when you feel that you are in the deepest and most dark parts of your self, there is a light within you that will outshine it. I can't wait to hear what you name her. I'm starting to feel very worn down, but I look forward to seeing you soon. I heard you've impressed both Professor McGonagall and Professor Flitwick with both your charms and transfiguration abilities. I'm sure Professor Snape will be equally impressed with you, though he may not be willing to show it.

All of my love

-R

Remus always knew the right thing to say. He was right, she needed to push the idea that she would turn bad out of her mind. It was ridiculous. She knew that rationally she was being absurd. She should be excited. She wanted to attend Hogwarts for her entire life. The nerves she felt down were more from excitement than dread. She had already proven herself advanced in Transfiguration and Charms. She knew her Magical History. And while she was horrible in herbology, she hoped that learning with other students would help. She was also confident in potion making, though she was terrified of meeting Professor Snape. The side comments from the other professors lead her to the impression that he was not easily won over. Her Uncle had never mentioned him in a disparaging way, just that he would be a tough teacher. She looked at the clock on the wall and realized that it was almost time to meet with Professor Snape. She hurried to the portrait hole in the wall that swung open and climbed out of the common room, straightening her school uniform as she walked. The uniform would take some getting used to. She was used to jeans, t-shirts and comfortable dresses. Hope quickly made her way through the castle corridors and headed to the Potions Classroom in the Dungeon.

Once she reached the door, she paused for a moment and took a breath. She felt her nerves bubbling to the surface again. She made sure to steel herself and then pushed the door open. The room was rather large. She suspected it had to be to hold a full class of students and all of their potions equipment. The room was so quiet you could hear a pin hit the floor. While the rest of the castle radiated warmth and light, the Potions classroom seemed dark and cold. "How I've felt on the inside." was all Hope could think. There were pickled animals in jars along the wall that gave Hope pause. She had a feeling this would be her least favorite class if she had to look at those. There was a supply cupboard and in the corner of the classroom a basin where the water poured from the mouth of a gargoyle. The room as a whole was intimidating, just not as intimidating as the man stationed near the blackboard. Severus Snape had long black flowing robes adorned to his thin frame. His sallow skin reminded her of the photograph of her father in The Daily Prophet. His black hair was in sheets and framed his face. His dark eyes appeared to have never seen happiness a day in their lives. They both stood silently, sizing each other up. Hope could see recognition in his eyes, he must have known her mother. After what seemed like ages, he finally spoke.

“Good Evening Ms. Lupin. I am Professor Snape. Tonight we will see how adept you are at your potion making. I do hope you've kept up with your studies, I will not tolerate you falling behind." Hope simply nodded. "Tonight you will brew a Sleeping Draught. Standard for any 2nd year student."

"Yes Professor." Hope didn't even try to hold a conversation with Severus Snape. She knew it would be futile.

"Off you go." Hope saw a cauldron waiting. She quickly went to the the supply cupboard and pulled out the Lavender, Flobberworm Mucus, Valerian Sprigs and a large amount of their "standard ingredients". Once she got to her table, she flipped open the book and looked over the instructions. She added 4 springs of lavender and 2 measures of Standard Ingredient into the motar and crushed them into a creamy paste. She then added 2 blobs of Flobber Worm Mucus to her cauldron along with 2 more measures of Standard Ingredient into the cauldron and heated it for 30 seconds. She added the crushed mixture as directed and waved her wand. Time seemed to drag as she waited for the potion to brew. She could feel Snape's dark eyes on her but she didn't dare look up. She hoped this would be a more pleasant experience when the room was filled with classmates. Finally, the potion was ready for trhe next steps. She added the rest of the ingredients in, careful to follow the directions precisely on how to chop and stir. She made the final wave of her wand she saw the dark luscious potion bubbling back at her.

“I’m done Professor.” Snape slowly sauntered to her work station. He looked around and noticed that while she had been waiting for her potion to brew she had cleaned up her station.

“Perhaps you can give your fellow housemates some pointers on organization.” He murmured. He studied her potion, stirring it slightly. After a few agonizing moments. “This is...passable. I was concerned when I found out your Uncle had been educating you.” Hope narrowed her eyes at him. He looked at her smugly, challenging her to contradict him. I’m her mind she was telling him off. Her Uncle was blood brilliant and her potion was perfect. She swallows any remark she wanted to make. When he was satisfied she wasn’t going to mouth off he waved his wand and the potion she made vanished. “You may go.”

“Thank you Professor. Have a good night.” She turned on her heel and quickly left the dungeon, feeling his dark eyes watch her as she fled. As she was rushing back to the Gryffindor Common room she felt the familiar twinge in between her eyes. She knew she was in for a rough night.

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Hope had a difficult time settling down for the night. She piercing in her skull had been gaining intensity. For the first time since she had been there she regretted coming without her Uncle. He always knew how to help her feel better. Whether they spent the night talking or he would just sit with her as she struggled so she wasn't alone. He took care of her, he always took care of her. She spent the night tossing and turning, her mind turning against her. Black liquid was flooding her brain. The same pair of green eyes were starring back at her. They would go from a state of shock and morph into eyes of confusion. The feeling of melancholy worked its way back into her soul and it was stifling her. Never before did she ever think that her own mind would suffocate her. She was all alone and there was no one there to wake her from the prison of her mind.

As daybreak hit, Hope found herself in the bathroom with her head over the toilet. The piercing agony in her head was beyond anything she had ever felt before. It was as if someone were driving a hot poker from the fireplace directly into her brain. Tears poured down her face as the last wave of nausea finally passed. She needed help, but she was too weak to get up and go to Professor McGonagall. Instead, Hope laid her head down on the cold hard floor for some brief relief. Cold always helped ease her pain before, but this pain was beyond measure. She needed to at least get back to bed, but she didn't have the strength to pull herself off of the floor. Eventually she slipped into a deep sleep with her face pressed against the floor. After what seemed like only moments later a voice woke Hope up with a start. She sat up quickly and immediately regretted it as the piercing pain returned.

“Hope...my dear are you alright?” Professor McGonagall’s frantic voice filled her ears like hot lava heading to her brain. Everything was too loud. Hope squinted as the brightness burned her eyes and looked up to her Head of House.

“What time is it?” Hope saw sunlight streaming into the room. It had been barely light out when she was last conscious. Confusion flooded her exhausted mind.

“It’s after 2pm. I was informed that you missed your flying lesson  with Madame Hooch. I thought perhaps you had mixed up the time as we've kept you very busy this past week. I went to check the great hall to see if you were eating lunch and the house elves informed me that you hadn’t been down to eat.”

“I’m so sorry Professor. I- I had a bad night." Hope groaned and clutched the side of her head. "My headache was so horrible it made me sick. I've never had one this bad. I couldn't get up to go for help. I must have fallen asleep here. I didn’t mean to miss a flying lesson.“ Minerva helped Hope to her feet.

“I remember your mother having some nasty spells like this. Do not worry about missing your lesson. There is plenty of time for you to learn how to fly on a broom. That isn't what is important. Let’s get you down to Madam Pomfrey. She used to make your mother feel better.” Hope looked down at her baggy sweatpants and your loose V-Neck t-shirt and felt embarrassment flood her face. 

“Don’t worry about how you are dressed. No one will see you. Come Hope.” Professor McGonagall wrapped a firm arm around Hope's body and led her down the stairs and out of the Common Room through the portrait hole. If it hadn't been for the professor's strong grip, Hope was certain she would have fainted.  The walk to the hospital wing had Hope feeling dizzy. As soon as they walked into the hospital wing, Madam Pomfrey made a fuss over Hope and got her into one of the beds. Hope heard her tell Professor McGonagall that she would keep her updated. Hope felt a cool compress on her head that was soothing and the room darkened.

Unbeknownst to Hope, she spent the next 4 and a half days in and out of consciousness in the hospital wing. It wasn’t surprising that the healing potions Madam Pomfrey had tried were ineffective, they had never worked well before. The would sometimes take the edge off of the pain so that Hope could function, but this pain was incessant. One evening as Hope slipped briefly into consciousness she heard Professor Dumbledore’s calming voice.

“Remus said she’s never had a spell that has lasted this long. As the full moon is about to hit, he cannot come to the castle. I have precautions prepared for subsequent full moons, but I was unable to get them ready so quickly. He is beside himself with worry and his condition makes him more agitated now than he normally is. I promised to send him updates." Hope felt a pang of guilt. It was bad enough Remus had to deal with the full moon, he shouldn't have to worry about her too. Another set of footsteps approached. Hope was in too much pain and far too exhausted to let them know you were awake. "Oh Severus good." Dumbledore continued speaking. "Do you have it? And you had no problems brewing it?” Hope felt the pain overwhelm her again and she slipped back into the darkness before she could hear Snape's response..

Whatever Severus Snape had brought to Dumbledore was helping. The pain was very slowly dissipating. It also must have been keeping her asleep as she hadn't been awake since the last time she heard Dumbledore's voice. Her dreams had begun to change. Instead of inky black and green eyes, her dreams were  of being a little girl and her Uncle walking her on the beach and in hand. He had a youthful glow about him, but a deep sadness in his eyes. She heard his laugh as he spun her around. They built sand castles and she watched as he helped her paint her first picture. As difficult as it had been for the both of them, Remus had given her a wonderful life.

It was two more days of pleasant dreams and memories before Hope slowly opened her eyes. For the first time in almost a week, the pain was gone. Three pairs of eyes peered down at her, Professor McGonagall, Professor Dumbledore and Professor Snape. She was surprised to see that Snape seemed just as concerned as the other two. Hope blinked her eyes to adjust.

“How are you feeling Hope?” Professor Dumbledore gave her a comforting smile.

“I- better- I think. Yes, definitely better. How long have I been here?”

“All week. You gave us all quite a scare. I must say your Uncle is beside himself. He will be arriving tomorrow. I’m sure he will be thrilled to know that you’re on the mend.”

“A week? It’s never been that bad.” Hope looked at Professor Snape. She wasn’t sure if he knew her situation. She wanted to be careful about what she said. Dumbledore must have sensed her apprehension.

“Remus agreed that it was essential to bring in Professor Snape into the fold. We needed his potions expertise. None of the remedies that used to work for your mother were helping you. He was able to brew something up that seemed to help. Though it is not something you can take frequently.”

“Wh- What was it?”

“Oh a very complicated potion. We can discuss that at another time. For now, we will leave you in Madam Pomfrey’s capable hands. I wish for you to stay for the rest of the day just to make sure you are truly okay. You can return to your dormitory tomorrow morning if all goes well. I will stop back and check on you this evening.” McGonagall gave Hope a smile that was filled with relief, where as Snape still looked worried. Without another word, all 3 professors were retreating. When Hope looked to the side table, there sat her sketch book and pencils and smiled. Even from far away, her Uncle was making sure she was getting what she needed.

She spent the day being fawned over by Madam Pomfrey and being fed by House Elves. Hope was obsessed with all things chocolate, a love she and Remus had in common. The chocolate cake from the Hogwarts Kitchen was divine. In between it all, she sketched. She sketched the only thing that had been on her mind for almost two weeks. The pair of emerald green eyes surrounded by a fluid black background. They were quite nice, whoever they belonged too. Hope had  just finished adding the color to her drawing when Dumbledore walked in. He had something in his hands.

“Good Evening Hope. I’m informed you’re doing quite well. I'm happy that Remus wont have to storm the castle to get to the hospital wing to get to you. I see you found your sketch book I had left for you. Remus said it helps clear your mind. May I?” He gestured her book. Hope slowly handed it to him. He studied the eyes staring back at him and it was like a light of recognition went off in his mind, though he didn’t say why. “May I ask what made you draw this?” She sighed. She always had a hard time explaining what you were seeing.

“For a month, all I have seen is darkness, blackness, despair and longing. Then suddenly these eyes started popping into my dreams.”

“When?”

“Not long before I came here. Maybe 2 1/2 weeks ago.” He nodded, but didn’t give anything away. He clearly had an opinion and no plans to share it.

“I brought these for you. I thought you might like them.” He handed her two photos. One was of a much younger Remus and her mother. Remus had his arm around her and they donned their Hogwarts uniforms, they were both grinning madly.  When Hope pulled out the picture behind it, she gasped. There she was, sitting on the lap of a beautiful red headed woman and next to her, on her mother’s lap was a little boy with dark hair and a bright smile. Standing behind Lily was a tall man, with messy dark hair and wire rimmed glasses. Finally, standing next to him and behind her mother was the most handsome man she had ever seen. A man whose face she had only seen a few times, her father. 

“Is that...” Hope’s voice trailed off and she covered her mouth holding in a sob.

“Yes Hope. You’re sitting with Lily. And Harry is with your mother. James and your father are behind you.” Seeing her mother so happy and laughing made tears fill her eyes. She couldn’t have been alive much longer after this was taken. Hope wondered if she knew this was one of the last times they would all be together? She could barely look at her father without her heart breaking. He and James were so joyful and carefree. Harry was turned towards Hope and gripped in his hand was hers. Both children were laughing along with their parents. “Had fate been kinder, you and Harry would have led much different lives. You would have grown up together. I think you will find a very good friend in Harry Potter.”

“Professor, thank you. I-“ Hope couldn’t say anything more.

“You are most welcome. Now don’t get too upset or you’ll get me in trouble.” You laughed slightly as Dumbledore’s blue eyes sparkled down at you. “Now get some sleep. I will see you tomorrow.” Dumbledore smiled once more and headed back from where he came.

Hope spent the rest of the evening staring at the pictures Dumbledore gave her. She wasn’t sure why he had them, but she didn’t much care. She stared at the picture until she fell asleep, dreaming of the family that she longed to have. What would it have been like to grow up with both of her parents or even just one of them? She loved Remus so much, but she couldn’t help wanting what she couldn’t have. Snape's potion must have still been working because for the first time that Hope could remember, she had a dreamless sleep. She slept in the following morning and ate the breakfast that the house elves brought her. When she was done, Madam Pomfrey wished her well and sent her on her way.

When Hope got back to her room she hid the pictures from Dumbledore into the bottom of her trunk. She wasn't quite ready to share that part of her with anyone. She couldn't imagine the reaction to Sirius Black being her father would be a good. one. It was best to keep that photo for just herself, for now. She pulled out a clean uniform and robes and laid them out for later. She dug out some clean lounge clothes and proceeded to take the longest, hottest shower she had ever taken. She ate lunch in the common room while looking through more of the books on the shelves. She lost herself in a copy of "Household Stories from the Collection of the Brothers Grimm" . 

When she realized that her classmates would be arriving any moment. She cleaned up her mess and ran quickly to her room to get changed. Once she was dressed she tried to smooth out her hair, which was pointless. There was no taming the curly blonde locks that adorned her head. She really hoped one of the Gryffindor girls knew a spell to help her straighten her hair. She excitedly bound out of her room and through the portrait hole. She wanted to get to The Great Hall and see her Uncle before the feast started. She rushed through the hall as students started piling in. As she weaved through the mass of students she smacked directly into another student.

She stumbled back and they grabbed her both of her arms with strong hands to steady her. She looked up to see a boy with unruly dark hair, a bit of a scar on his forehead peaked out below his hair. He wore wired rimmed glasses. Behind the glasses stared the eyes that had been haunting her for weeks. The brilliant emerald green eyes belonged to Harry Potter.

[3three-question-marks]

Bottles of Milk

Hey, here’s a new fic, and I’ll promise this one has a guaranteed part 2. I’ll probably update it weekly if I have the time. I’ll make this one extra painful :)

Words:1,443

Summary:Mabel has been married for a while, and Dipper has been creating a name for himself as a Journalist. One day, everything changes when Dipper decides to do the unthinkable, leading Mabel’s husband to catch them in the act.

Mabel watched her husband with fond eyes as he proceeded to chop carrots in their small kitchen. She went up behind him, hugging his waist. He continued to chop the carrots, appreciating his wife's presence. The brunette nuzzled her chin into her husband's collar bone and hummed a small happy noise. He reached his arm behind him, caressing her small but ever so present baby bump forming.

She leaned up to kiss his jawline, making him giggle. "I love you," She mumbled into his ear. He kissed her back, whispering the same words to her.

A noise interrupted their calm moment, three knocks reverberating through the room. She turned her head around and alerted her husband of their guest. Skipping to the front door, she threw it open to reveal her dripping wet brother. He was carrying his soaked bags and clutching his navy blue jacket, shivering from the cold. Dipper was wearing that dorky crooked grin.

"Dipper!" Her eyes widened with concern. She grabbed his bags and lead him inside the small suburban home. She immediately pulled a towel out one of their drawers, and handed it to him. "Damn, Dip, how long did it take for a bus to arrive?"

He smiled, slipping off his boots and leaving him in his blood red sweater. "C'mon, I didn't took too long, I just took a small stop."

Mabel's grin grew wider, as she saw her twin's hand sneak into his pocket to retrieve a small, neatly wrapped box. She immediately pulled him close to her, as a thanks to the present he bought. "Daww Dipper! You didn't have to do that," She cooed.

"I wanted to," He continued to wipe his soaked body, ignoring her husband's offer for him to get a fresh set of clothes. Mabel lead him by the hand, leading him to the kitchen island. She poured him a cup of coffee, sitting next to him afterwards. "I've got some news that I think you'll find interesting," She said.

"Same here," The guy smirked, sipping his coffee with interest. "You go first,"

She glanced at her husband gleefully, before going back to him. "Well, as you know, me and Henry have been married for a while," His heart stopped beating, starting to fall into his stomach as he knew where this was going. "We're proud to say that, we have a little one on the way!"

There it is. Bad enough he had to attend a wedding as confirmation that she will never have feelings for him, but having a child with Henry, it's just proof, that she's sealed the deal with him, and not Dipper. A gate she built with her very own hands, to block him out of romanceville, or any chance at all to be with her. Not that he was hoping for anything. He gave up a long time ago. On love, on her, on any sort of indication that he deserves anything.

He's been harboring feelings for her for so long, he felt so lost without her invading his mind every single day. It's like an earworm that he could never get out. When she got married, she invited him to the wedding, and of course he had to go. It was very important for her. He would do anything for her, and also, what would they say if he didn't? Her brother was so depressed to pull himself off the bed because he is in love with her, and that's why he couldn't attend the wedding. The entire event felt so empty. So painful. So numb. He just wanted to dissociate and disappear forever.

But he needed to stay, for her. He needed to smile, for her. He needed to look like he felt any sort of emotion right there, for her. So of course he cried. Everyone thought it was just very emotional for him, but the words "I do," made his heart stop entirely, and his brain stop working. So of course he just had to let it out one way or another.

He forgot he was supposed to react happily to her big news, he blinked twice as if in shock, and spoke slowly, "That...is great! That's so great. Just, wow." He stood up from his seat, an idea popping into his head. "This is so great, that you know what? I'll take you and Henry out for dinner tomorrow." Great save dumbass.

"Until this day you still won't let go of your 'best brother' award, won't you?"

"You know it, sis!" Just fake it 'till you make it, man. But she's bound to notice at some point, retard. He pulled her to her feet, spinning her around. "Careful, champ." Spoke Henry. He steadied the both of them, smiling sheepishly at his brother-in-law. "Sorry,"

" So what's your big news, Dippy?" He blinked. Right. The news I was about to tell her before she-... Right. "Oh Right. First, I need you to open your present."

"Just tell me already, dork!" She poked him, making him chuckle. "Open it, and I will,"

"Alright, alright. Let's see what's the big deal," She ripped open the box, and was greeted with the familiar logo of the Mystery Shack. Intrigued a lot more, she took off the lid to see it was a snow globe with a tiny Dipper in a suit inside. "Woah, does this m-"

"I'm officially the owner of the Mystery Shack! and...people are finally taking notice of my work!"

"How?"

"Well, recently Soos and Melody decided to hand it over, since they were dedicating their lives to Thomas and Adrian."

"I see you're making headlines too," She said as she unfolded the newspaper clipping folded in the box. Inside it, was a picture of her brother receiving an award for journalism. He was smiling brightly, as a man in a suit stood next to him. She had never been this successful in her own career, and neither was Henry. Henry was a school principal, and she was a basic designer who only gained attention from small businesses. Dipper truly was amazing.

 *************************************************************************************************

The night came and went, with the three of them eating dinner and conversing about Dipper's jobs, and Mabel's plans for the baby or babies. As exciting as the idea of being an uncle was, Dipper couldn't help but feel uneasy at the dinner table, with Mabel and Henry's comfortably affectionate nature towards each other, and talks about him and finding a girl to settle down with. After cleaning up, Henry went to bed, and Mabel stayed with him to catch up.

"I hope you do find a girl someday, Dip." She said, sipping from her glass of juice. Dipper sipped his own glass and huffed. "We've been through this, Mabel. I don't really want to look for someone. It's not like I'm very likeable anyways. Maybe I'll just grow old and die alone like Toby."

She slapped his arm hard, making him jump in his seat. "Ow! What the hell?"

"You gotta stop doing this to yourself, Dip. It's not helping. I'm sure as heck there are plenty of girls who would like you,"

"Oh, sure, like that one psycho chick you set me up with?"

"C'mon, I didn't know she'd drug you!"

"To be fair, I only woke up on top of a GalaxyBucks!" After getting a sharp glare from his sister, he snapped his trap shut. "Okay, fine. I'll try dating more often, that okay with you?"

"I really want you to meet the perfect match, Dip. I just want you to be as happy as I am,"

He shifted in his seat, casting his gaze down. "Yeah, I know." He took a quick peek at his watch and realized how late it was. "Oh shoot!"

"What?"

"Its really late, I gotta go," He pulled himself off the seat, hastily rushing to grab his coat and boots. He felt a soft hand take hold of his wrist and stop him from opening the door. "Stay here, Dip"

"Wait, what about my hotel?"

"You can cancel,"

"What about the Shack?"

"Have Wendy and her beau take care of it, I'm sure she won't mind,"

"I don't know, Mabel. It's really late."

"And that's why you should stay. I really miss you, Dip."

Looking between Mabel and the door, going back and forth, he let out a sigh, pulling out his phone to dial Wendy's number. After a quick goodbye, he got someone to take care of the shack, and felt a pair of arms around him. He hugged back, reminiscing in the scent, and closing his eyes for this brief moment of happiness for both of them.

[illfoandillfie]

Curtains - Part 4

SERIES MASTERLIST

Pairing: Roger x Reader

Summery: You turn Roger down

Warnings: Smut (18+), angst, an argument with some very mean words, rough sex, choking, badly handled Feelings

Words: 4,192 (longest chapter so far)

A/N: penultimate chapter is a bit of a downer lmao

Taglist (though notifications don’t seem to be working so hopefully ya’ll see this):  @laedymoon​  @dtfrogertaylor​   @ezmina98​  @vee-ndetta​ @atomic-watermelon​ @kellypenac​ @labessieisallama​ @deakyclicks @jennyggggrrr​ @drowseoftaylor​  @hannafuckingsucks​​

@bohemiansweede​​ @rogershoe​​  @lnnuend0​​  @funitrog​

You’d managed to avoid Roger for a solid three weeks. It hadn’t been easy considering you went to the same uni and lived next door to each other and you still hadn’t hung your curtains, but you’d been managing alright. There’d been a lot of ducking into bathrooms or around corners when you saw him on campus. A lot of studying on your couch rather than in your room to avoid him knocking at your door again. A lot of leaving early and sneaking home when you knew he’d be playing at the pub or else crashing on friend’s couches when possible. Anything to avoid Roger and the questions he was sure to have about your cancelled date.  

The night he’d asked you out had been a sleepless one despite what you’d told him, your brain keeping you up with misgivings about dating Roger. Sex with him was one thing but an actual date was a whole different ballgame, one you weren’t sure you wanted to play. You needed more time to think, weigh up what you wanted. Did you enjoy being around Roger? Or did you just like that he could get you off? Most of your conversations had happened just before you slept together, while you were too horny to think straight, or just after, while you were coming down from the high. Which made it hard to know if you actually liked him, or it was just the endorphins talking. He seemed sweet enough, if a little full of himself, from what you knew about him, but really he was a giant question mark. He might be a complete arsehole. Or a control freak. He might be a serial womanizer. Or a serial killer. So you’d called it off, the day after he’d asked you out. A purposeful accidental meeting on his way out of the house. It had taken hours of sitting by your front door, changing your mind over and over again as you waited for him to step outside and head towards his van. A small wave to get his attention and then, when he’d smiled and greeted you, an apologetic look and some bullshit about a family situation meaning you weren’t going to be able to see him on Saturday. The lack of sleep might actually have helped you sell your story. He’d looked disappointed but not half as disappointed as he was a minute later when he tried to reschedule, and you said you’d have to get back to him with a day that worked. Since then you’d done everything in your power to not see him. Ostensibly so you could think things through, give yourself some time to work out what you actually wanted, though the reality of it was closer to making excuses and hiding. Sometimes literally hiding. He’d come over a few times, sending you scurrying for cover in your bathroom. You’d found notes each time, once or twice accompanied by a flower, saying he really wanted to talk with you. You stopped reading them after the third one, though you didn’t throw them out. Just left them in a pile on your coffee table, waiting for you to get curious enough to take a peek. And now it had all gone to shit because you’d forgotten to account for his dumb friends. 

“Y/N, can you just tell me what’s going on?” Freddie asked you, having cornered you on campus before you could think to escape his notice. You hadn’t even considered Freddie or anyone besides Roger wanting to talk to you about it.   “Sorry Freddie but it’s really none of your business. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got t-”  “Rog has been really bummed out since you cancelled on him. Moping around, playing the worst fucking music. Constantly, for two and a half weeks now. Just rubbish record after rubbish record. I think that entitles me to an explanation of what the hell happened between you.”  “It just didn’t feel right,” you shrugged.  “But fucking in the pub bathroom did?”  “That’s different,” you said, annoyed that he was inserting himself in your business, judging your actions, “The sex was just sex, I never signed up to get involved. Besides, Roger isn’t the sort of guy I date.”  “Bullshit,”  “What? You think because I'm shy and find it hard to approach men that I can’t have a casual fling? That I’m so desperate for attention I’ll say yes to anyone?”  “Darling you don’t have a monopoly on being shy,” He paused for a moment, eyeing you up, “Everything you just said is rubbish.”  “Excuse me?” You crossed your arms over your chest, waiting indignantly for Freddie to continue.  “It’s got nothing to do with things not feeling right or whatever else you’ve told yourself. It’s because you’re scared. I know you were scared to approach him when you moved in and you were scared to make a move on him at the pub. I saw you, hoping he’d notice you. And we all saw you after the show the other week, laughing at his jokes and all those little smiles when you thought no one was looking. You turned him down because you got scared.”  “Fuck off Freddie. We hung out one time, you don’t know me and frankly neither does Roger.”   “Isn’t that the point of going on a date though? To get to know each other?”  “Maybe I don’t want him to know me. He only thinks he’s interested because I’ve been sleeping with him. As soon as it stops being fun or he finds someone new, he’ll ditch me.”  “You need to give Roger more credit than that.”  “No, what I need to do is get to class,” you pushed past him.  Freddie's voice followed you as your stormed off, “Fine, Y/N, but can you at least talk to Roger about it?”  You threw him the V over your shoulder as you walked away.  

Still stewing over everything Freddie had said, you didn’t pay any attention to where you were walking.   Wanker, you thought to yourself, what’s it to him anyway. Not my problem Roger’s in a shitty mood and has crap taste in music. Says a handful of sentences to me while we hung out in the van one time and he thinks he knows a single thing about me. Thinks he can butt into my business. It’s got nothing to do with him if I never see Roger again! You spent the next few minutes cursing Freddie and coming up with a list of things you wished you’d said to him, only stopping when you realised you were standing outside your front door, yelling a single, loud, “SHIT” into the air. That summed it up really. Shit. Everything was shit. Missing a class you really should have been at was shit, being cornered and read like a fucking book by Freddie was shit, not seeing Roger was shit. You decided to call the day what it was – a total fucking lost cause – and have a nap. Your bag thumped against the floor where you dropped it by the door, your shoes making equally loud bangs as you kicked them across the room. The small pile of notes still sat on the coffee table, taunting you, but you ignored it heading stright to your room. You shimmied out of your jeans and climbed into bed, pulling the covers over your head to block out the sun streaming in through the curtain-less door. God I've really got to fix that. 

Just as you got settled you heard a tapping against the glass. You screwed your eyes shut, having a feeling you knew who causing the racket, and willed him to go away. He didn’t. Instead he tapped louder, his voice muffled by the glass as he called your name.   “Y/N, I know you’re in there! I heard you swearing!”  You buried your head under your pillow, trying to block him out. The constant tapping alone was getting on your nerves, never mind his voice.  “I can fucking see you moving around! Can you please just talk to me?”  “Go away Roger!”  “Not until you talk to me!”  “For fucks sake,” you hissed under your breath before throwing the covers back, “Fine!” You strode towards the door, yanking it open, “Fine, let's talk then.”  “Drop the attitude Y/N. You’re the one who blew me off and then fucking disappeared for weeks, I just want to know why.”  “Take the hint Roger, I don’t want to date you.”  “Jesus, yeah I got that. Why are you being such a cunt about it though?”  You stared at him for a few seconds, stung though you knew he was right.  “Well? Are you going to say something, or just stand there?”  You decided on neither, moving to shut the door in his face but he was too quick, wincing as it his his shoulder.  “No, you owe me an explanation Y/N,” he said pushing the door wide enough to get inside, “What did I do? Something happened between me leaving and the next day when you cancelled and I want to know what the fuck it was,”  “I came to my senses that’s what happened,” you stood your ground even as he invaded your personal space and a voice screamed in the back of your head to just stop and be honest.  Roger shook his head, “You think you’re being so fucking clever, don’t you? Well you’re not. You’re just being a bitch.”  “You don’t know me, Roger. You think cos we fucked a few times you know a single goddamn thing about me but you don’t.”  “I had it right the first time.”  “What?”  “The first time I fucked you. Left as soon as I’d finished with you, that was the right idea. All that hanging around after shit was a waste of time.”  “Yeah well, if you ask me none of it was worth it. Should have realised after the first time you weren’t a good enough fuck anyway.  “That's bullshit and we both know it. Do you have any idea how fucking pathetic you looked, how desperate, waiting for me to notice you? One fucking word was all it took to have you spread your legs for me, and in a room full of strangers no less. Literally begged to suck me off last time, like a proper slut. You’re the easiest pussy I ever got, Y/N. And It was stupid of me to think you were worth more than the time it took me to cum.”  “That’s how you feel is it?”  “Yeah, it is,”  “Really?”  “Yes.” His voice was dripping with contempt as he glared at you. 

There was a beat as Roger seemed to realise what he’d said, eyes widening in horror and then your hands were at his fly, nails catching against the denim as you almost tore the button off in your haste.   “Y/N wh-”  “Shut up and fuck me,”  He still looked a little shocked as you made to pull his shirt off.  “Jesus, do I have to do everything,”  That reignited his frustration and he managed to do what you couldn’t, tearing a few of the buttons from your shirt, sending them scattering across the floor, as he pulled it open to reveal your breasts. You got a hand into his pants, tugging at him as he pushed you towards your bed, door left standing open behind him. There was no time to think, no time to talk. One minute you’d been cursing at each other and the next you were lying on your back with Roger roughly pulling you towards the edge of the mattress. He let go of you long enough to get his pants down, moving your underwear to the side as he lined himself up. Your back arched when he entered you and you gasped as he paused.  “Fucking move, arsehole,”  “Still a pathetic slut,” he growled back bringing a hand to your throat as he leaned over and rammed into you. He’d been rough with you before but not like this. Careless. Inconsiderate. Brutal. Roger found a harsh rhythm and stuck to it, tightening his grip on your throat whenever you opened your mouth to hurl another insult his way. You grasped his wrist, nails digging into his skin which only seemed to inspire a rougher treatment. He didn’t bother to rub your clit, made no attempt to hold off his own orgasm and let you catch up. Left it up to you to get there or not. The familiar feeling in the pit of your stomach was only beginning to build when he grunted in your ear, hips stuttering. He left you feeling empty and unsatisfied, tucking himself away as you sat up and stared. There was a moment of quiet, both of you breathing heavily, watching the other.   “That’s exactly why I cancelled,” you said softly. You could feel your chest tightening, eyes prickling, but you were determined not to break down in front of Roger.   His shoulders slumped as he looked at you, absentmindedly raking his fingers through his hair, “Y/N, I’m, fuck, that wasn’t-“  “Get out,” Your voice was steady.  “That’s not how I wanted it to go. I didn’t mea-"  “Just get the fuck out of here Roger.”  He gave you a final apologetic look before flinging himself out of the door and disappearing around the corner. You held yourself together just long enough for him to leave and then you sunk to the floor, hugging your knees to your chest, tears falling onto them and rolling down your legs as your body shook with sobs. You hoped he could hear, door still standing open. You hoped the whole fucking street could hear.  

Over the next few days the fight was all you could think about. He, thankfully, hadn’t left any bruises or marks on your throat, but there was a dull pain where he’d thrust into you so roughly, like he’d bruised your insides. A constant reminder of what happened, not that you needed one. You heard Roger’s taunts almost in a loop, each word drilling into your skull. A cunt. Easy. Pathetic. Every time you closed your eyes you saw him, glaring at you, spitting out how little he thought of you.  But the hurt settled into a bitter vindication. So much for Freddie’s faith in Roger, you’d been right after all. Maybe you didn’t go about it the cleanest way but you’d done the right thing. You saw hide nor hair of Roger, not even so much as a glimpse of him on campus, though Freddie and Brian both tried to trap you. From what you could gather, they knew you and Roger had fought but knew nothing of the specifics. Every time you passed them they tried to stop you, but you ignored them, walked away as they yelled after you that Roger was sorry.   “He’s really fucking torn up about whatever he said to you,” Brian said softly, catching your arm as you walked home, “I keep catching him mumbling to himself about it. He swears he didn’t mean it, whatever he said.”  “Sounded like he meant it,” you wrenched your arm free and doubled your pace until you reached the safety of your living room. Eventually they stopped, giving up on trying to convince you, and you thought it was done. 

Until the day you got home from an evening class to find Roger sitting cross legged in front of your door. You stopped in your tracks, “What are you doing here?”  Roger jumped to his feet, dusting his hands off on the back of his jeans, “I Just want to talk,” he held up his hands like someone in a movie, trying to prove they didn’t have any weapons.   “I don’t want to talk.” The people in the movies usually had a knife or something hidden up their sleeve.  “Please, Y/N? I’m really sorry about what happened last time. I understand if you never want to see me again and if that’s the case then I’ll leave you alone after today. But I’d like to have a better goodbye than that.”  Crossing your arms over your chest, you considered him. Part of you wanted to tell him where to stick his apology. But he did look genuinely upset and sorry and you felt guilty, knowing the part you’d played, “Fine. Can you move so I can open my bloody door?”  “Actually,” he glanced next door, “I was hoping we could go for a drive. The other three are home and I don’t want them to overhear.”  “Worried they’ll take my side?”  “No. It’s just none of their business. So, do you mind?”  On one hand, a bit of privacy would probably be good and being elsewhere might stop another scene from erupting. On the other, though, it was harder to tell Roger to fuck off if he was your ride home.  “We wouldn’t go far, just away from here.” He looked over at his place again.   “Yeah, okay,” You said quietly.  Roger gave you a small smile, and held his hand out in an after you gesture, letting you lead the way to his van.  

The drive was almost silent. Music had started playing as the engine came to life but Roger turned it off before you could hear more than a few notes of the melancholy tune.   “Not your usual sound,” you said, awkwardly trying to make small talk.  “Spose not.”  You didn’t know what to say. Neither, it seemed, did Roger. Luckily, he didn’t go much further than a few blocks, pulling into the carpark of the local park. Usually the place would be crawling with children, screaming at each other and their parents. But now that the sun had set it was virtually deserted. A few people taking their dogs for late walks passed by as he backed the van into a spot.  “Let’s sit in the back, more space,” Roger said climbing through and opening the back doors.  “No instruments tonight?”  “Nah, not tonight.” Another small smile as he helped you through. You settled in the doorway, legs pulled in close to your body, taking up as little space as you could manage. Roger sat opposite, chewing on his lip as he turned his head to stare out over the dark park.  “I am very sorry about what I said the other day,” he looked at you and then back towards the pond, “I had an idea of what I wanted to happen except it didn’t go that way. I got pissed off and just wanted to hurt you.”  “Mission accomplished.”  “I know. Haven’t stopped thinking about it since. The second I left and h-heard you crying, I wanted to turn the clock back and undo it all. It was so cruel. Everything I said, did, was just needlessly cruel and I cannot apologise enough. I didn’t mean any of it.  “I know you didn’t mean it. Don’t get me wrong, it sucked but I pushed you on purpose,” You let your eyes wander over Roger’s face, watching his reaction, “I wanted to hear you say something like that. And then I instigated the sex because doing it confirmed what you’d said. It was just a way to prove I was right to not go out with you. Make myself feel better about being so horrid to you.”  He sighed, bring a hand up to rub the back of his neck “Like I said, not how I wanted it to go.”  You both stopped, waiting for the other to say something, though when it became clear Roger wasn’t going to continue, you stepped up.  “Guess I was looking for a fight. Freddie caught me off guard earlier, standing up for you, so I was already pissed off. I would have had a crack at just about anyone who came past but seeing you just made it worse,” you let yourself relax a bit, one leg slipping down to dangle out of the van, “We can talk now though. Promise I won’t bite your head off.”  “I just want to understand why you changed your mind. That’s all. Not to try and convince you to change it back or anything, I just want to know if something I did upset you or…”  “It wasn’t anything you did, Rog.”  He nodded, looking a little relieved, “Can I ask what it was then?”  “Yeah, umm” you sighed, trying to find the right words, “When you asked me out and I said yes, I was still on this high from the whole night. Hanging out with you and your mates was fun and fucking you in the pub was fun. And then you kissed me, which I wasn’t expecting. You’d never kissed me before. So going out with you seemed like a good idea. But then as soon as I was alone again, I freaked out about it. Freddie was right. He called me out for being scared and he was right.”  “Scared of what?”  “Everything? I don’t know. Scared you’d only asked me cos you’d been drinking or so I’d keep sleeping with you. Scared of getting hurt when you realised you didn’t really like me. Scared that one date would lead to two would lead to a serious fucking relationship. I panicked and decided it was easier to cut everything off thank risk anything. I handled this whole thing appallingly didn’t I?”  “Yeah, little bit.”  “Sorry.”  You both fell into silence again. Roger’s brow was furrowed as he looked at his own fingers. You stared out at the pond, the stars reflected in the water blurring the longer you went without blinking.  

It started to rain softly, the drops tapping against the roof of the van. You barely noticed the drops splashing onto your ankle or the chill wind that accompanied the shower, too caught up in your own head, trying to work out how to fix the situation you’d tangled yourself and Roger in.  “Shit, you’re shivering,” Roger said, breaking through the mess of thoughts swirling round your head, “I think I have a blanket back here somewhere.”  You watched, rubbing your arms to try and fend off the cold you’d only just noticed.   “Here,” Roger said at last, throwing a fuzzy blanket over your shoulders, “Wrap yourself up in that,”  “Aren’t you cold too?” you glanced at the t-shirt he wore.  “Nah, I’ll be right,”  “We could share,”  “I don’t want to overstep,”  “You wouldn’t be. Plus the extra body heat might help me warm up faster,”  “Are you sure you’re okay with it?”  “Wouldn’t have offered if I wasn’t.”  Roger scooted closer, pausing before he came closer again, testing the waters. When he reached you he pulled the blanket around his own shoulders, one arm falling behind you so he was pressed in close.  “Definitely warmer,” you said, leaning your head against his chest, ready to spring back up if he said anything. It felt nice to be so close to him again, without the anger of the last time.   “I did mean it, when I asked you out. It was a genuine request not some ploy to keep sleeping with you or whatever. Just so we’re clear.”  You nodded, leaning into him. Without thinking you began tracing your fingers over his wrist, following some marks you couldn’t see properly. There was a pang of guilt as you realised your nails had left them there.  “It doesn’t hurt,” he said softly, reading your mind, “probably deserved it. Did I hurt you?”  “A bit yeah."  He shifted your hair, trying to see any signs of how he’d squeezed your throat.  “Not there.”  “Oh, Y/N,” he held you tighter, wrapping his second arm around you, pulling you against him, “I’m so sorry,”  “It’s okay Rog. Only hurt for a couple of days. And if anyone should apologise more it’s me. I was a cunt and you didn’t deserve how I treated you.”  “It’s okay. I get why. But why don’t we make an agreement to stop going in circles apologising to each other and put it behind us, if we can.”  “Go back to before?” You asked slowly, sitting up to look at Roger, trying to get a feel for what he was hoping for, “Hooking up casually?”  “If that’s what you want, I can do casual. We don’t have to though; I’d be happy to just be friends, or whatever. As long as we’re not fighting anymore.”   “Friends would be good. But maybe you should try asking me out again? If you’re still interested?”  “Really? I don’t want you to feel obligated to say yes out of guilt or because you want to make it up to me.”  “Ask me,”  This time when he spoke there was no hesitation, “Do you want to go out with me sometime?”  “I’d really like that.”  Roger tilted your head towards him. He paused, looking into your eyes. And then, when he was satisfied with whatever he saw there, he kissed you. Softly, one arm around your waist, the other resting on your cheek. 

[shanghai-ohmy]

MaoMaoctober day 23: Slave

Mao Mao has an... adult dream about Badgerclops. A very embarrassing adult dream. Now he has to hide the evidence. Read it on AO3 or below the cut.

CONTENT WARNING this fic is pretty smutty, though there’s no depicted sex. BDSM themes and mouthplay within. How else was I supposed to interpret “slave” in a way that isn’t horrible?

Mao Mao woke up feeling strange. He wasn't groggy exactly, but sort of… fuzzy? He didn't know what to make of it. He always woke up in top top shape, provided he'd had more than five hours of sleep. Judging by the amount of sun, he'd definitely hit that mark. So why was he feeling so weird?

He shifted in his sheets and his blood turned to ice. They were wet. Near his crotch. Did I just wet the bed? The thought alone was devastating.

But that wasn't it. It wasn't that much liquid. A terrible, embarrassed tickle crept into his throat. He bashfully peeked under the sheets and confirmed his suspicion: he'd had a wet dream.

Mao Mao sighed and rubbed his eyes. He knew it happened from time to time, especially to people like him who didn't… release very often. But his cheeks still filled with a rosy blush as he thought about what had happened. The sticky sheets would need a wash, of course. But it would definitely be suspicious if Mao Mao just washed his own. He could declare it laundry day, but Badgerclops had taken care of everyone's sheets just yesterday.

There was no option other than washing just his own. He'd move quickly and do it before the others woke up.

As he slipped out of bed and tiptoed silently towards their washing machine, the fuzzy feeling still plaguing his brain, he wondered what the dream had been about. An image flashed in his mind.

"You're mine now, kitten," Badgerclops said, locking a pink collar around Mao Mao's neck. "I'm going to claim every inch of you." His whisper lingered in Mao Mao's ear.

Mao Mao's entire face turned red. He nearly dropped the bedding he'd bundled in his hands. He'd had that kind of dream? About Badgerclops?!

It was too hard to think about. Too confusing. He ignored the feelings, stuffing them down into the furthest recesses of his mind. He pretended the strange churning in his stomach wasn't there. He loaded the cum-dampened sheets into the washer and started the cycle.

That gave him some relief. He was no longer holding the irrefutable physical proof of his humiliating dream. He had plausible deniability, the greatest blessing there was.

Except his fur was still slick and sticky.

He crept his way to the bathroom. A little soap and water and everything would be fine. He snuck out of the generator room and was almost to the bedroom door when a voice from the living room stopped him in his tracks.

"Dude," Badgerclops said, "what are you doing?" He spoke through a mouthful of cereal.

Mao Mao panicked. "O-oh, uh Badgerclops! I didn't see you there! Just… going about my morning! That's all!" He laughed nervously.

"But why-" Badgerclops interrupted himself, sniffing at the air. "Do you smell something weird? Kinda damp and musty?" He turned his twitching nose towards Mao Mao.

Mao Mao was mortified. Oh god, he thought, I smell like cum. He needed to get into the bathroom and clean himself off immediately. "It's my breath!" He replied, the best lie he could come up with in his panic. "Let me just go take care of that!" He practically sprinted the last few steps to the bathroom.

He washed his lower body thoroughly. He was furious at his luck. Why did Badgerclops have to catch him?! He rubbed the soapy water across his crotch, massaging it into the fur. His mind drifted, and for a moment he remembered:

Badgerclops slid his lubricated claws across Mao Mao's crotch. Mao Mao trembled, his touch-starved body desperately sensitive to Badgerclops's groping. "You can barely handle me touching you like this, huh Mao? You must really want me inside you."

Mao Mao angrily pushed the dream away. This was ridiculous; Badgerclops didn't even talk that way! And besides, it wasn't like Mao Mao wanted… That! He turned the faucet as cold as it would go and let it wash over his lower body. Then he dried off and stepped outside of the bathroom.

Badgerclops snickered as Mao Mao walked back to the kitchen to prepare breakfast. "What?!" Mao Mao said defensively, turning to face him. He could feel his cheeks burning.

"Did you-" Badgerclops covered his mouth with his hand, suppressing a giggle- "did you wet the bed?!" He began to laugh as soon as he got the last word out.

"NO!!!" Mao Mao shouted reflexively, flailing his arms.

"Dude, come on." Badgerclops wiped away a tear. He counted on his fingers as he listed off the evidence: "You're washing your sheets, you were sneaking around, and I heard you take a shower just now." 

“I’m an ADULT, Badgerclops! I didn’t wet my bed!”

“Hey, don’t worry about it buddy, we can get you a mattress protector.”

Mao Mao racked his brain for a convincing lie. “I was… bleeding!” he blurted.

Badgerclops immediately looked concerned. “Shit, are you okay? Let me see it!”

Mao Mao cringed internally at Badgerclops’s tone. He sounded so worried. It felt bad to play him like this. But the alternative was… unthinkable. “I’m fine. I just scratched myself a little while I was asleep. It’s already closed up. Nothing to worry about.”

“Okay…” Badgerclops scratched the back of his head. “Sorry about the bedwetting jokes.”

“It’s alright.” Mao Mao wanted the conversation to be over as soon as possible. He darted to the kitchen, safe from Badgerclops’s prying eye. A heavy sigh of relief fell from his lips. There would be no existentially embarrassing dreams revealed today! Badgerclops would never know how Mao Mao felt. He’d never hear about the way Mao Mao had been helpless in his grasp, how he’d taken complete control of Mao Mao’s body, how he’d…

Arrgh! Mao Mao shook his head, clearing it. Breakfast! He was making breakfast. The knot of feelings in his stomach grew tighter.

A few minutes later he walked out, plate in hand, to the table. Badgerclops was still sitting there, of course. Mao Mao had thought about just eating in the kitchen, but Badgerclops was way too suspicious for that to fly. So he sat at the table. Dangerously close to him.

Has he always looked this buff? Mao Mao thought to himself as he ate. He couldn’t help it; it was too weird being near him after that dream. They managed to make some friendly small talk until Mao Mao finished his food. Mao Mao was about to excuse himself when Badgerclops stopped him.

“Hang on dude,” he said, reaching across the table, “you’ve got something on your face.” He placed his hand under Mao Mao’s chin and wiped a crumb from just above his lips with his thumb.

Badgerclops placed his hand under Mao Mao’s chin, cradling his head. He tilted Mao Mao’s face up towards him, looking into his eyes. “I’ve been waiting for this ever since I first saw that cute face.” He pressed his thumb against Mao Mao’s lips, slipping it into his mouth. The thick claw pressed down on his tongue, filling his mouth. Badgerclops pulled it out a moment later, saliva trailing from its tip. Mao Mao’s mouth hung open, his breathing hot and heavy. “You love this, don’t you, kitten?” Badgerclops pushed the index finger of his other hand in, prodding and exploring every inch of Mao Mao’s mouth. He slid it in and out, again and again, pressing on Mao Mao’s tongue, invading him like it was nothing-

Mao Mao moaned. Loudly.

Badgerclops’s eye shot open. Mao Mao gasped, pulling back from Badgerclops’s touch and covering his mouth. He blushed all the way up to his ears. “I, I, uh…” He glanced around the room frantically. There had to be something! Some way out of this!

“You had a wet dream,” Badgerclops realized, a grin slowly spreading across his face. He started to laugh. “Holy shit, you had a sex dream about me!” He was shaking with laughter. “Wait wait wait, let me guess. Did I… did I call you ‘kitten’?”

Mao Mao’s blush deepened. He hid his face even though he knew it would give him away. He just didn’t want to be seen.

“I KNEW IT!” Badgerclops was overcome with the laughing fit. He hunched over the table, pounding its surface. Mao Mao was furious, and embarrassed, and he needed to leave immediately and never come back. 

“Fine! Shut up! I’m leaving!” He stormed out the door and hid himself behind their HQ, too embarrassed to be seen by anyone else ever again.

[weebiewrites]

Are You Sure We’re Talking About the Same Person? - Chap. 3

AO3

Previous — Next

"What… was that?"

Ladybug shrieked, nearly jumping out of her suit, as she spun to face her partner. Where had he even come from? He had a bad habit of sneaking up on her, especially during the dead hours of the night. Normally, it wouldn't phase her. But today was not a normal day.

Chat leaned forward against his staff, his chin resting on his hands which covered the top of it. He regarded her with a smirk, which was a rather common look for him. But, there was something else there — something that Ladybug couldn't quite read.

"Chat Noir!" she gasped. "You scared me! I thought you said you weren't coming tonight." Chat blinked wide, his smirk vanishing for a moment.

"Ah- well— um…" he started, rubbing the back of his neck. "My plans got... cancelled." he said, very unconvincingly, with what she thought was a flash of guilt on his face. "But that's beside the point!"

Ladybug glanced down at the gloved finger which was suddenly pointed right in front of her face.

"I saw you with that Agreste boy." Chat said, his eyes narrowing into a cat-like slit. Ladybug stiffened.

Of course Chat Noir had seen it. Of course he would happen to be just late enough to stumble upon her acting like a total doofus in front of her crush. And of course, he was going to tease her about it.

"You… saw that?" She squeaked, her face turning pink.

"All of it."

"I was just saving him!" It wasn't a total lie. She was doing her due duty as a superhero, at first, recovering a runaway adolescent boy who was out way past curfew. It wasn't her fault that he had to go and confess his love to her. Chat snickered.

"Saving him with a kiss?" He said, voice dripping with smugness. He raised an eyebrow at her, slowly inching closer to study her reaction.

Ladybug wished she was wearing the Turtle Miraculous so she could retract her head into its shell. Instead, she turned her head away, unable to handle the scrutiny of his stare. She had no doubt he was getting a sadistic pleasure out of teasing her like this, and was reveling in her embarrassment.

"It's not like that!" She insisted, but she knew her defense was useless. Chat knew her well enough to right see through it. Though, if she was being honest, most anyone with half a brain could probably see through it. She tried to find more words and come up with a reasonable explanation, but just ended up stuttering, making her case even less believable. The blush covering her face and the top of her ears wasn't doing her any favors, either.

As if he weren't already invading her personal space, Chat leaned even closer.

"Blond hair, green eyes?" He cooed in a sickeningly sweet, yet taunting voice. "Purhaps you have a type, M'lady."

Ladybug didn't even need to look at him to know what face he was making. She reached her hand out and gently pushed his face away from her.

"Not a chance, Kitty. I only have eyes for one-" Ladybug caught herself and cringed. She slowly peered over at Chat, whose face was beaming underneath her fingers. Before she could open her mouth to correct herself, Chat interjected.

"So you admit it!" He said, pointing an accusatory finger at her. His grin was way too wide, and his eyes lit up as if they had stars behind them. Was it just her, or did he sound way too excited about this?

Ladybug hunched over, heaving a sigh. She dropped her hand, and Chat nearly dropped with it, as he had been leaning too far into it in his excitement. He quickly recovered, though. He turned on his heels and struck a rather dramatic pose. With his back bent backwards and his face slightly tilted upwards, he hugged himself with one arm, and positioned the other pointing towards his face, twirling an imaginary rose in his fingers. Ladybug rolled her eyes. He definitely got that from an anime.

"Alas, My Lady has scorned my love, and has fallen for another!" He started, adopting a haughty sounding tone. He paused for a moment, not-so-discretely looking over his shoulder to gauge her reaction. "But," he continued, striking a different, but clearly still anime-inspired pose. "My spirit is not so fragile. Do not worry about me, for, in time, I will find my way again. The road will be treacherous, and full of sorrow…" Chat wiped away an imaginary tear, prompting another eye-roll. "But,  someday, my heart will move on.

"Ladybug, I accept your rejection!"

There were so many words dancing on Ladybug's tongue that she could have said in response to Chat's spectacle, but the only thing that came out was an exasperated sigh.

"You're so weird." She eventually said after he flashed her a cheeky smile, indicating that he had dropped the act. Chat ignored her comment.

"Now that that's over with," he said, sounding way too satisfied with himself. He slid in closer, once again ignoring her personal space (sometimes she wondered if he even knew what that was), and with his face lit up like a schoolgirl gleefully engaging in the latest gossip, asked, "What do you like about him?"

Ladybug groaned in response, bringing up her hand to her forehead with a smack. Of all the people in Paris, Chat was at the top of her list of people she didn't want finding out about her crush, second only to Adrien himself. Besides the fact that they weren't supposed to know anything about the other's identity, being constantly teased and probed by her partner about it was not something she was looking forward to. Especially if he was going to make that face every time.

"I'm not going to tell you." She said with a huff. Chat's face dropped.

"Wha-a-at?" He whined. "Come on, Ladybug! I already found out, so what's the harm!" Strangely, his eyes looked like that of a lost puppy dog's for a moment. "Everybody has celebrity crushes, it's nothing to be ashamed of. I mean, unless you happen to know him in real li-" And there were those prying, sneaky, cat eyes again.

"Too close!" Ladybug said, shoving him away. He wasn't actually too close, but Ladybug needed him to stop talking at the moment. "Chat, you know we can't know about each other." She warned. Chat pouted.

"Fine," he said, frowning and turning away. "I guess I can only assume you just like him because he's a stinky, pretty-boy loser.”

"Stinky?" Ladybug gasped, suddenly insulted. Her mind immediately went into a frenzy as she began to ramble and defend him. "Take that back! I'll have you know that Adrien smells like fresh picked roses! He's way more than just a pretty face, and he's definitely not a-"

Oh. Chat wasn't pouting anymore. He looked like a kid on Christmas morning. Of course. He was just trying to get her to talk about him. Now it was Ladybug's turn to pout. She felt her face burning from frustration.

"He's more of a gentleman than you could ever hope to be," she spat, turning away. She didn't want to see that stupid smirk on his face when he realized he had won in making her spill more than she wanted. She waited for his snarky comeback, but there was just silence. Uncomfortable silence.

Had she gone too far? No, this was Chat. He was always quick with the recovery. But after a few more moments of painstaking silence, she wasn't completely convinced.

Ladybug peeked over her shoulder to see a completely deflated Chat. His ears were flat on his head, his gaze pointed downwards.

"Chat..?" She said, breaking the silence. "Maybe I shouldn't have-"

"No, I'm sure you're right Ladybug." He said, clearly forcing out a nervous chuckle. "That's okay. I'm happy for you for finding such a great guy." Chat hugged himself and turned away.

Ladybug realized she had definitely messed up.

"Anyways," he started. "I'm gonna go ahead and patrol. I… have a lot of ground to cover, since I'm so late." He grabbed his staff out of his belt, and it extended. "See ya tomorrow."  

"Chat, wait-" Ladybug reached out, but he was already catapulting to the next rooftop.

Ladybug didn't feel like patrolling after that. It was already 3 in the morning, and their patrols usually went from 1 to 4, so she decided it wouldn't be the worst thing if she turned in for the night. She landed on her balcony with a quiet thunk.

"Tikki, de-transform." The Kwami immediately flew out of her earrings, and floated in front of her face. With her transformation released, Marinette felt her eye bags come back as the fatigue hit her all at once. She couldn't help herself from yawning loudly.

"Well that was a total bummer." She said, stretching. Her night had been nearly perfect until Chat showed up, and now that was all she could think about. "Do you think I really hurt his feelings, Tikki?" Tikki nodded solemnly.

"He seemed really upset," she noted.

Marinette groaned. She didn't mean to. He was the one making her upset up until that point. To be honest, she didn't know Chat could even have his feelings hurt like that. He was always quick to banter with her.

"I think you should apologize to each other," Tikki said. "You both went a little too far." Marinette nodded in agreement, stifling another yawn. "But first, you should get some sleep. You have school tomorrow after all."

School.

Adrien.

She was going to see Adrien at school tomorrow.

The squeal that suddenly came out of Marinette's mouth sounded almost exactly like the whine of a tea kettle. She had been relatively good at keeping herself composed about everything that happened with Adrien, putting on her “hero” face to maintain her sanity, but now the mask was off, and Marinette was unable to control the whirlwind of butterflies dancing around in her stomach. Adrien had asked her out! He had said that he loved - no, was in love with her!

But, he asked her out as Ladybug, not as Marinette. The glee she was feeling suddenly turned into dread. He didn’t know that Marinette was Ladybug. He didn’t know that when he asked Ladybug out, he was actually asking Marinette out! She paled.

She was going to see Adrien, and she was going to have to pretend that he didn’t ask her out. She was going to see Adrien, and she was going to have to pretend that he didn’t confess his love to her. But he had, and she could barely contain herself. A furious blush washed over her. She had kissed him. She had kissed Adrien! How was she going to be able to face him tomorrow? How was she going to act normal around him ever again?

“Earth to Marinette! Earth to Marinette!” Tikki waved her small arms in front of her, trying to get her attention.

“Tikki! What am I going to do?” Marinette said, clutching her head with her hands. “Adrien is in love with Ladybug! And Ladybug’s really Marinette! But Adrien doesn’t know that Ladybug is Marinette and now Marinette is going to have to see Adrien everyday knowing that Adrien is in love with Marinette and-” Tikki floated in front of Marinette’s hands which were gesturing wildly as she spoke. She gently reached out and touched one hand.

“First of all, breathe,” the Kwami said, a hint of exasperation coming out of her small voice. Marinette forgot that they had already had this exact conversation in the alleyway, earlier. Marinette took a deep breath in, practicing the breathing exercises her mom had taught her. “It’ll be alright, Marinette! Just be yourself, like always!” Marinette moaned.

“Being myself without the knowledge of Adrien’s undying love for me involves me stuttering and mumbling like an idiot whenever I so much as hear his name! Imagine how worse it’s gonna be now that I know that he likes me!”

“It doesn’t have to be worse, Marinette!” Tikki insisted. “Think of it this way. Now that you know that he likes you, you don’t have to worry about what he thinks of you. He already said it! He’s in love with you!”

“He’s in love with Ladybug,” Marinette corrected with a sigh.

“But you are Ladybug, silly! Through and through! He might not know that right now, but it doesn’t change anything!” Marinette eyed the Kwami suspiciously. “You stumble over yourself because you’re so worried about what he’ll think of you, but now you know, so you don’t have any reason to not be confident in yourself!” Marinette felt her face warm up, and she couldn’t tell if it was from blushing, or just because she was so tired.

“I hadn’t thought of it that way.” She said shyly. “Maybe… tomorrow won’t be so bad.” Tikki smiled at her warmly, before ushering her off to bed. Marinette wobbled her way down into her room and crashed into her bed. Before passing out, she touched her fingers to her lips, remembering the warmth of Adrien’s cheek from earlier that night. She fell asleep grinning from ear to ear.

[eternaljouska]

The Face of the Moon - Kwon Soonyoung

Pairing: Soonyoung x Reader

Genre: Hurt-Comfort, Highschool!AU (barely-there-background-info only)

Word Count: 1,678

The land breeze that sways your hair sneaks around and embraces you in its cold, prompting a shiver down from the back of your neck to your bare feet. It is foolish, you admit, going out to the beach like this: two hours past midnight, thin sweater over your basic tees and shorts, and your shoes neglected on your side. You hadn’t wandered to the beach after you’re roused from your slumber by some nightmares. You had come with a purpose, your calling on nights when sleep doesn’t come easy.

You’re sitting down on the sand with your knees held close to your chest, supporting the small sketchbook atop of it. There’s a set of watercolor paints on your right and a bottle of water standing beside your shoes. The first stroke of your brush paints dark blue on your blank paper. You don’t bring any pencil to outline the picture in your head. You only bring a pen for your finishing, for the words over the painting. But that’s fine, you don’t need an outline. The image that you have is just a poor modification of the sea and the sky in front of you. It’s fine.

But Soonyoung knows that you’re not. Every time you take out your sketchbook, he’s always anxious. It has become such a strange instinct for him. The way your eyes dim but are raging with fire at the same time, it’s unsettling. In the class, you sit in the back corner, your eyes always watching. Even last night, at the buffet signaling the start of the fancy trip the school has, you’re sitting alone, the three chairs around your table have been long since dragged away by people who have too many on their groups. Soonyoung noticed that, but he stayed in his own corner, figuring out ways to finally see you. That’s why when he caught sight of you from his balcony, leaving the hotel at two in the morning with your sketchbook and paint set in one hand and a water bottle in the other, he’d been quick to grab his jacket and followed you out.

You’re less than twenty steps away from him, but now you’re already stopping, and Soonyoung stops also. He watches how you lay everything beside you, even your shoes. You throw your gaze to the sea at the same time as the breeze skims through his uncovered skin. It’s a few moments later that he realizes you have started on your painting, the dance that your hair does with the wind evidently distracting for him.

Soonyoung takes steps upon careful steps until he’s standing right behind you. He waits silently until he can see the idea of a clear sky and just as clear sea, except for four things: the yellow moon in the middle of the sky, a silhouette of a person in the middle of the sea and both of their reflections on the water. You’ve begun writing at that time, and he remembers that it means your painting is finished. That’s what he sees you usually do, scribbling something that’s too long to only be a signature before finally closing your sketchbook.

She’s almost done.

He lowers his body and moves his head to the side to peek around you, trying on his subtlety as best as he can to read your writing, which is not easy considering his poor eyesight.

The girl swims to the open ocean, one hand raising up once in a while, bidding several hellos to the mourning sky. Her face is the light of the moon itself, magnified.

Soonyoung stares at the figure on your painting once again and understands. The reflection of the moon that he thought falls onto the surface of the water in front of the girl, lands on that girl’s face instead.

Her face is the mirror of the moon as much as the sea is of the sky. As the waves guide her closer to the stomach of the ocean, the moon grows bigger and fills her dark pupils, and then she raises both of her hands—

His reading’s interrupted by your abrupt action of snapping shut the sketchbook. Soonyoung audibly curses, a millisecond too late to realize that you’ve known all about his presence behind you. You gather your stuff in a hurry, and without sparing him any word or even a glance you walk away from Soonyoung.

“Y/n, wait! You’re not finished yet!” Soonyoung calls out, utterly baffled seeing the turn of the events. He rushes to you and was about to grab your hand when he has a second thought after seeing your expression. “Hey, where are you going? I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to invade your personal space or anything. I know it’s none of my business, but I was just curious. I saw you walking out of the hotel and followed you. Y/n, please, stop for a second. I just wanna know what happens next, on your writing.”

You halt and turn around all in a split of a second, taking Soonyoung completely by surprise. “Stop that. Because like what you said, it’s none of your business. And stop following me.” You spin around and start to walk away once again, but Soonyoung gets to you first.

“We stay in the same hotel. I know your room. I know your house. We’re in the same class. You know how consistent I can be. Just- let me know what will happen, and I’ll leave you alone.” Soonyoung knows how creepy he sounds, and he can see that on the way you furrow your eyebrows, but he’s desperate. He knows it in his heart that the girl in your painting is you, and that somehow, if he knows what you have for that girl, ultimately, he’ll be able to see you.

“Why are you so stupid and annoying, huh? She’ll drown! If that’s not clear enough for you.”

Soonyoung drops his hand and takes an involuntary step back. “What?” he gasps out, his brain cannot accept the answer you gave him. “Wait, that- that doesn’t— Hey! Wait! Tell me one more thing, please? Y/n, please? Y/n!”

Your steps falter at his pleas, and you turn around. “What?” you ask curtly.

“Why… Why is she swimming that far?”

“It’s the moon. She wants to embrace the moon.”

And again, your answer confuses him. “That- that doesn’t make any sense.”

Soonyoung voice is faint and grave, but his eyes on you are unyielding. The moonlight catches on his dark orbs, and you can see that what he has is beyond just simple curiosity. After all, you know Soonyoung. He’s a vibrant presence in your dull class. Everybody would notice when he’s absent. You’ve watched him, the way you watch everyone else. And more often than not, you’d catch him looking. But he always stays in the comfort of his corner in the front of the class, surrounded by his friends. Everyone seeks him out, and sometimes you fall into the habit of wondering what it feels like to be sought out like that. You don’t need everyone, obviously, since it’s difficult enough to get one. For that reason, when you noticed a shadow of another head on your sketchbook, you’d been frightened rather than surprised. You snapped your sketchbook closed and rushed to gather your belongings before jumping up to your feet and walked hastily back to the direction of the hotel.

For a second, when you heard his voice calling out for you, you’re confused. You hadn’t expected anyone to actually seek you out, not at that moment, and not by him. Although, his explanation told you enough that everything that’s happening was entirely by chance, which somehow transformed your confusion into a rage. But then, looking at him staring at you like that, your stomach clenches at the familiarity of his gaze. He’s always looking at you with that same gaze, only this time, despair is clearly written on his eyes. You understand what he’s doing—what he’s been doing all this time. And your eyes suddenly burn. “It does. It makes sense.” You give him one last look before you trudge away from him, eyes already wet with newly formed tears.

“It doesn’t. How— Why? I can’t- I can’t understand why she would—“

“What is so hard to understand, Soonyoung?!” you snap at him, one hot tear finally escaping your eyes. “Why is it so hard for you to see that she’ll drown, huh? The moon won’t get any closer no matter how far she’ll swim, and the ocean gets deeper the farther she goes, and nobody—nobody—on the shore cares enough to notice she’s gone. There’s nobody- there’s nobody on the shore, Soonyoung.”

“How would she know that?” Soonyoung asks softly as he takes several long strides towards you. “How would she know whether someone’s on the shore or not? She’s too focused on the moon above her, how would she know?”

You stare up at him despite your glassy eyes and recognize the truth on his words. You catch your lower lip under your teeth, a frail attempt to prevent your sobs from forcing out of your throat. It takes you too long to realize what’s happening, too transfixed on his gaze that the fact that you’re not holding it anymore fazes you. You gasp as you feel Soonyoung’s hands snake around your body, replacing the cold of the land breeze and holding you close to his warmth. A shiver runs down from the back of your neck to your bare feet once again, now because of an absolutely different reason.

“Don’t drown, please,” he whispers, and you feel your sobs heighten at those three words. You wrap your arms around him and cry all of your unshed tears. When you’re done and your puffy eyes start to hurt, Soonyoung loosens his hold on you, trying to meet your eyes as he says with his infamous smile, “I’m here. I’ll be on your shore. I’ll rent a speedboat out to save you, okay?”

1. Happy birthday jungkookie (lol I know this is not even a bts fic, but still) I’m sorry I kinda give up on birthday fic

2. Kyeomie is so precious, please protect

3. I scrolled down kristian-do’s blog so much I might swerve bias to Jeonghan (no, duh, who are we talking about here, but man, he’s beautiful)

3. Hoon in horangi’s shirt (GET WELL SOON BBY)

that’s all. goodbye. (this is an inside joke only i understand. lame.)

alright, hope you like this one~ i’m sorry i blabbered

[mimedusa-blog]

setting fire to the sky with @hunterxmi​ as decreed by Hydrus ( @myeongchokrp​ )

if jinah actually cared, she would say that this is abusing her worker’s rights.

if she was a low-level, tiny-brained soldier, she would’ve accepted the job with no qualms at all, but the soldiers all seem to be busy on the best day ever, and here she is getting the annoying feeling of missing out on all the fun. instead, she’s stuck in a car with someone who’s spreading his sickness around like it’s nobody’s business, and if she could, she’d strangle him right then for daring to tempt the fates and get her sick. without prompting, she even puts on the black, hard face mask as if that’ll dissuade any of the germs from trying to invade her system (it may be enough to help her through tear gas, but you never know). he can put viruses in software, but not her, no, thank you. 

either way, she didn’t read the file. there often isn’t any need for it, really. she saw the targets and she saw the objective, so there really wasn’t much to pay attention to. the rest was, unfortunately, up to hunter to do his job. her attire today isn’t nearly as nice as she wants it to be, but it’s free enough to move in – in fact, she didn’t have much time to change at all, and she’s wearing the same pants she’d been wearing since yesterday, which is an absolute travesty. she barely pays attention to what he’s saying, too, and hardly looks up at the screen he turns towards her. instead, she makes sure that the knives at her thigh are in place, that the gun strapped at her shoulder, hidden underneath her jacket, are safely stowed, and that her shoelaces are tied. these are manolo blahnik oxfords. god forbid she’d trip on them while on the job. 

“mnhuh,” she says dismissively, tying her hair up – a sign of focus, though she’d never admit it. “just do your job and i’ll do mine – ooh~,” distracted, she peeks inside the bag: explosives with a timed detonator. there’s certainly no failsafe for this one. the thought of getting blown up in there along with them might just make this job a little more exciting. she zips the bag closed and puts it on, tightening the straps to fit. she doesn’t like loose ends. 

jinah adjusts the earpiece tucked in her ear. “do me a favour, hunter.” she grins at him as she opens the door. “don’t fuck it up.” 

without much else, she gets out of the car and heads directly to the alleyways. sticking close to the walls gives her time to hide behind anything and stay hidden as patrols pass along the main street. she looks up before she turns the corner to access the backdoor and, sure enough, two big men guard the entrance. these behemoths actually think that they’re doing anything to dissuade hydrus, huh? idiots. she undoes the strap of the mask behind her head, but holds it to her face, and takes a few deep, shuddering breaths, all but forcing tears in her eyes. men are such idiots.

“h-help!” she calls out, stumbling. they point their guns at her, and she raises a hand, the other still holding the mask to the lower half of her face. she feigns a choked sob, and another, in between every exclamation. “y-you guys are phoenix, right? i’m one of you! c’mon – there’s hydrus behind me! please, you’ve got to help!” 

they lower their guns, and she stops in front of them. one puts a hand on her shoulder; the other keeps his hand on his gun, but a quick glance tells her that he doesn’t mean to shoot: his finger isn’t on the trigger. this idiot looks up, and asks, “hey, are you really one of us? where’re these hydrus assholes?”

“l-let me – wait, let me fix my mask, i – oh–!” she fixes it, to be true, and once it is, swipes a silenced gun from beneath her jacket and pulls the trigger with the barrel under one man’s chin. before the one with the gun can react, she pulls the knife out from the colleague’s throat. one hand reaches for the finger that could’ve been on the trigger and pulls it back with a sharp crack; the other aims at his forehead and shoots. twice, for good measure, and she sighs, tucking the hot barrel back into its strap. “yeah, they’re right here, dumbass.”

it was, of course, surprisingly easy to use the key tucked at one dead man’s jacket to open the backdoor. “better have disabled those alarms, hunter.”

she pushes it without much issue. thankfully, the noise outside makes it slightly easier to sneak around in her shoes. these aren’t meant to be stealthy. the click of her heels would’ve signalled where she is had the general cacophony outside, fuelled by the rage of monsters, not masked it just the slightest. she does hide behind the door; the patrol comes too close.

as he peeks behind it, jinah places her hand over his mouth, and the other nearly all the way on the other side of his head. before he can protest, his neck snaps with a definite crack, and the whole weight of him falls limp against her. “shit,” she mumbles, crouching down and gripping him by the head, one hand against his shoulder, to soften the fall. when he does, he ends up lying flat on the ground, holding her exit open. he may not be much for security, but he sure as hell made an effective door stop. 

she steps over him carefully, hiding behind a tall shelf of surplus clothes. the weapons are just underneath, and there’s one more patrol, a fair distance away, like hunter said. she matches his steps, slowly, carefully, until there’s not much distance at all. instead of a gun, she uses the knife at her thigh to stab him in the back, one hand again over his mouth. she stabs a few more – ugh, it’s just so satisfying! – and, again, softens the fall, but doesn’t move the body. 

let them find it. let them know.

so, yes, she stabs him a few times, unable to bite back the gleeful grin on her face, before hunter’s voice interrupts her and makes her stop. she inhales and mumbles, “killjoy”, straightening up and leaving the knife lodged in the dead man’s face. “right, right, i got it, jeez, don’t rush me.”

she knocks at the door instead. she doesn’t know whether they’ll answer, but she stands there patiently, gun in one hand and trained straight ahead, unwavering. 

unfortunately for them, they open the door.

“what do y– who the fuck?!” 

“hiya, buddy!” she greets. at least she’s polite before she shoots him three times. his body falls forward, and the man inside – the target, it seems – shoots, just as she lets go of the gun in an instinctual attempt to catch the body that definitely would’ve crushed her if she didn’t catch it. his bodyguard’s body is thick enough and heavy enough to take the brunt of it before she pushes him off. “hey!” she calls out, getting a running start before the guard’s body even hits the floor, and before her target can comprehend it. 

he gapes at her – whether it’s the fact that she’s running towards the guy pointing a gun at her, or that he might recognise her, she doesn’t know – and his cigar falls to the ground in what seems like slow motion. her arm knocks his gun hand up, away from her, and he drops it; her hand grasps his wrist to twist his hand and hold it still. her knee lodges itself in his middle, making him choke and double over. her other hand has already reaches for a knife at her thigh, sharp side against his throat. “that’s not very nice.”

“wh-what do you want!!! i’ll give you anything! do you want information?? do you want this cache??? ta-take it!”

“well, i mean, you already made a mistake, working for phoenix.” hunter, again, disrupts her moment. she’d meant to take him and the cache – that’s double gains for hydrus, and certainly more brownie points for her! – but the police are on their way, and she grits her teeth and clicks her tongue in disappointment. “and now you’ve made another. shouldn’t have taken a shot at me, honey. you’re just not my type.”

she’s standing too close when she slices his throat. blood goes all over her front and her face, spraying everywhere, forcing her to keep her lips pursed tight so none of it gets in her mouth. she takes a step back and brings the backpack to her front, distractedly, and opens the crate. instead of whistling, she spits out some of the blood that did slip past her lips. “disgusting. this is such a waste of good money.”

it’s the only thing that bothers her when she puts takes the explosives out and puts her backpack on properly behind her again. she places it on top of the guns, kissing her fingers and pressing that kiss on the detonator. the numbers there – or lack thereof – makes her blink.

“hold on – one minute? hunter, you asshole!”

she utters a whole variety of curse words as she picks up the fallen cigar. she even inhales and runs it underneath her nostrils to get a whiff as she begins to run, stepping over the dead bodies inelegantly and booking it out of there. (wow, this guy had a good taste in cigars. medusa doesn’t smoke much, but at least she appreciates good things.)

she counts the seconds, and turns around at the last minute, barely out of the alley before she’s blown back by the force of it. her back slams against brick, and shrapnels of glass and concrete and metal scrape at her jacket sleeve when she brings it up to protect her beautiful face. for a moment, she blinks, frozen, as if moving alone would irritate the sense of balance her ears would usually give her; now they ring, slightly. this high undertone irritates her, and she coughs to try and get rid of it. one hand reaches back to undo the strap of her face mask. she turns her hand around, checking to see if that move worked, and – wow, it really did. right at the end of the cigar are embers that she takes full advantage of, bringing the other end to her mouth and sucking in a lungful of harmful nicotine. 

“hey,” she mumbles, coughing a bit, and getting on her feet. ah, her blahniks are ruined. and this suit is expensive, too. “hey, asshole,” she grunts out, the back of her hand at her back, pushing in and stretching. that’s going to leave a bruise. she begins the trek back to the car, cigar held between her fingers. “was a minute really necessary?”

but who was she kidding? his answer was bound to be yes.

[fromthe-seoul]

Seventeen Ways to Succeed in College: Do Your Reading

“neither of us bought the expensive textbook but there is only one copy in the library and it can’t leave the building”

genre: fluff

words: 1.9k

a/n: welcome to the first in a new series; seventeen ways to succeed in college! we begin with our beloved leader, s.coups, who is honestly a joy to write. i hope you all enjoy this new endeavor, and let me know what you think!

The first week of classes is always an unfortunate shitstorm of finding rooms, poring over syllabi, and deciding which textbooks are worth going broke over. In an executive decision, you had decided that your microeconomics textbook just did not make the cut, and as a result, you would be spending a solid hour in the library every other day to do your reading. Thankfully, your professor had anticipated that the majority of you were without books for at least the first week, and you were going to take advantage of every scanned-in page you could. 

Whoever came up with the idea that college textbooks should single-handedly have the ability to make a student go broke can go die in a very long, very deep hole. Whoever decided that there could be only one copy of said expensive textbook on reserve in the library can also be subjected to a long, torturous existence. 

Alas, the kindness of professors only lasts so long, and you tried to make as little noise as possible shuffling through the stacks of books, on a long hunt for the elusive economics textbook. After consulting both the librarian and the online catalogue, you knew you were in the right aisle, but after craning your neck sideways to read the titles, you came upon a solitary empty slot...right where your textbook should be. It took everything in you not to swear loudly in the middle of the deadly quiet study floor. 

After taking a moment to compose yourself and not commit a minor crime, you resigned yourself to having to bullshit your way through discussion this week and headed for the stairs. However, out of vague curiosity and boredom, you decided to peek through the windows of the private study rooms as you walked by. Several project groups were already having disagreements, and you shuddered at the thought of having to deal with something so asinine this early in the semester. Yet amidst all the stressed out students, in the very last study room before the door, you spotted a vaguely familiar mop of messy black hair, accompanied by sleepy brown eyes and a jawline to die for. Your feet stopped in their path and you inched closer to the window. 

Inside the tiny little room sat a boy from your discussion (...Seungcheol? Was that his name?) and on the table, open to the first chapter, was the textbook you were desperate to get your hands on. Without thinking, you gently rapped your knuckles against the wood before twisting the handle and slipping into the room. 

“Hey...Seungcheol?” you exclaimed as said boy craned his neck to see who was invading his study room. A light of recognition flashed in his pupils and he granted you a gummy smile (which you tried to brush away with the flip flop of your heart).

 “Hey, _____! Are you looking for the econ textbook?” 

He gestured to the chair beside his own and you inwardly sighed in relief before flopping down. Seungcheol had been nothing but sweet for the few weeks you had known him within the realm of your discussion section. On the first day, he lent you a pen since you (like a true upperclassman) forgot a writing utensil. And it was a nice pen, and he didn’t even remind you to give it back. It was perhaps unnatural and slightly unbelievable how nice he was to you, but if anyone was going to have the textbook at this moment, you were glad it was him. 

“Yeah,” you sighed, “this class just isn’t worth the hundred and fifty dollars for a book I’ll never use again.”

“Same here, I figured I’ll just come here every time we have reading, but I don’t mind sharing!” He chuckled, and you couldn’t help but join him, hoping that whatever good karma you had apparently racked up to reward you with two hours with a hot, nice boy every week wouldn’t come back to bite you in the ass. Perhaps sharing one copy of a library textbook wouldn’t be so bad. 

So began your weekly meetups with Seungcheol. Every Sunday and Wednesday you would snag the empty study room at the end of the hall and settle in with a nice long brain-melting chapter of economics. It felt natural, with Seungcheol’s easygoing nature it was less monotonous and you felt less like smacking your forehead with the book trying to read about GDP and supply and demand curves. If one of you struggled with a concept, it was an unspoken rule for the other to try and explain the best they could, and if not, the both of you would just accept defeat until next class. 

Slowly but surely, these meetups turned into study sessions even beyond economics. You learned that Seungcheol was an elementary education major and loved working with kids. 

(“Why are you even in this class then? It has nothing to do with teaching.”

“Listen, I just need a math and science credit.”)

It also turned into sneaking food into the library for the long hours ahead, and even cups of coffee with enough talent and luck. 

(“How did you even get that cup in here without spilling? Your backpack doesn’t even have pockets!”

“What can I say, I have an exceptional sense of balance. Now hurry before I spill it all over my computer.”)

Sometimes you even bagged the idea of studying altogether and used the oversized computer monitor for purposes completely unrelated to education.

(“An hour-long vine compilation? Are you serious right now, Seungcheol?”

“I have had eight-year-olds yelling in my ears all day, I  deserve this.”)

Somewhere between him buying you your favorite candy to snack on and you lending him your earbuds when his broke on the bus, the universe shifted slightly. Not drastically, but just enough where you noticed, like someone shifted all the furniture four inches to the left. Just enough to catch your knee on the sofa. 

You suddenly became dreadfully aware of Seungcheol’s constant attention to you. Your heart began to flutter and nearly cave in whenever he would gaze at you with that beautiful smile. His thoughtfulness made you feel special, and even when in the worst mood Seungcheol could bring mirth to your lips. Sometimes, only when you were quick enough, you could catch him studying you with a curious expression amidst his features. You’d glance his way and his eyes would revert back to their signature sleepiness, and against your will, your cheeks would burn with inexplicable heat. Those traitors.

There was no “aha!” moment, no magical realization that you liked Seungcheol, that you like liked him. It would come and go in waves of your stomach dropping whenever his puppy eyes were trained on you, when you snuggled yourself into the cologne-tinged hoodie he wordlessly gave to you when he saw goosebumps on your arms, when he remembered minute little details you had spouted on a whim once. You weren’t quite sure what to do with this new information. Seungcheol never once mentioned a girlfriend; he was seemingly preoccupied in keeping track of his twelve closest friends, who, in your mind, hadn’t yet mastered the art of self-sufficiency yet. But the way he smiled when he recounted all their crazy antics made you curious to meet these boys. You wondered half-heartedly if he had told them about you, but brushed that pesky thought aside almost as quickly as it came. Why would he tell his brothers about little old you?

Soon the leaves began to fall from their branches, the sun hidden earlier and earlier, and exams were looming; the unspoken month of communal exhaustion and giving up taking its toll on everyone you see on the sidewalk was upon you. With the final economics exam taking up a large portion of the stress emanating from your body, you were holed up in the library more often than usual, Seungcheol usually joining you in fighting for a study room amidst the hundreds of people looking for a quiet place to break down. He fed your caffeine monster with enough coffee to power a marathon runner, and in exchange, you provided enough snacks to feed an entire soccer team after a championship game. Your system just worked, and the stability it brought you was enough to make you think there might be a light at the end of the tunnel called finals week. 

Seventeen hours before your final economics exam, late in the night after most sane students had abandoned their studying to finally collapse facedown into bed, the two of you sat in your usual room. The well-worn textbook rested on the table, witness to the birth and growth of a beautiful friendship, and perhaps silent receiver of the mourning of unrequited feelings. You stared blankly, body exhausted and mind drained. It didn’t seem like this would be the last time you would “have to” meet up with Seungcheol, the vague guise of sharing a textbook long gone. You didn’t want to think about what would happen after you left the room, after the exam was over, after you finally got to rest. 

Would Seungcheol still want to be your friend? Would he still give you his hoodies, bring you coffee, and tell you bad jokes? 

“So.” The boy sitting opposite you broke the silence, shaking you out of the spiral of negativity and bringing your attention to his face. His face was sallow, dark circles framing his eyelids, and his grin twisted wistfully, wrenching your heart in a way you didn’t think would hurt that much, but it did. 

“I’m kind of kicking myself for waiting so long to ask you this, but now I realize I’ve run out of time.” 

You gave him a quizzical look; he was never one to hold back in asking you anything. You wanted to respond, but nerves and the burn of your parched throat stopped you. Nevertheless, he continued.

“This semester, I was fully prepared to absolutely hate my life, but you managed to brighten it to the point where even my friends were asking who you were, and they didn’t even know you existed.” He chuckled wryly, casting his gaze to his fidgeting hands. “I’ve never been very good at expressing my feelings, and I hope I’m not ruining our friendship by asking if you’d like to go out with me.”

All at once it seemed like the air whooshed out of you. Your eyes felt like they would pop out as you snapped your head up to look at him. Your mind reeled as it tried to process the idea of your huge crush actually reciprocating your feelings, but Seungcheol seemed to take your shock as rejection. He quickly began to backpedal, but you would sooner fail every single one of your exams than let this slip by.

“Nonononono, Seungcheol, no,” you interrupted, frantically shaking your hands to prove your point, “I would love to go out with you, I promise.” 

You watched as his expression molded from horror to relief, his shoulders sagging, then shaking with self-deprecating laughter. His hands rubbed across his face, eyes peeking out at you with the smallest smile, which you tried to return amidst running a hand nervously through your hair. 

“Well,” he began, tucking his notebooks and pencil into his backpack, “how about we start tomorrow? After we both pass this goddamn exam?” His radiant, gummy smile was one you could never refuse. 

“Absolutely,” you agreed resolutely, following suit and shutting the textbook gently. 

It was finally time to go home and get some rest, for the big day ahead was now one to look forward to.

[raendown]

I finally got around to writing Part 3 of The Autocorrect Series!

Pairing: MadaraTobirama Word count: 3136 Summary:  A discovery is made but not by them.

Follow the link or read it under the cut!

Reasonable and Adult™

When they left her place Mito had already seemed reluctant to take part in this, although Hashirama couldn’t see why. He had called Tobirama’s phone several times and for each call there had been no answer, which was extremely odd for his brother. If Tobirama were already in bed he would have turned his phone off like usual and the calls would have gone straight to voicemail. The situation was just strange enough that Hashirama had worried himself in to going home in the middle of the night.

“I don’t understand how you can be so calm!” he insisted as they sped along the road he had lived on since he was young. Beside him, Mito’s head turned as she watched something pass them by outside.

“Something tells me Tobirama is just fine and will not appreciate you bursting in to check on him like a little child left alone for the first time.” His girlfriend arched one shapely eyebrow at him but Hashirama shook his head vigorously.

“He could be hurt! He could have hit his head!” They flew in to the driveway, slamming the brakes and jerking to a violent stop. “He could be lying on the floor bleeding and unable to reach his phone as we speak!”

Mito only shook her head again as she followed him out of the car. Hashirama just didn’t get why she seemed even more relaxed now than she had when they left her apartment.

The front door was locked, which was a good sign. At least that put all theories of burglary out of his mind. All the lights were off on the lower floor and Hashirama fumbled a little as his fingers searched for the switch next to the door. Once he had flicked it he poked his head in to both the living room and the kitchen. There were no signs of life in either room so he headed for the stairs. Behind him, the shuffling of Mito’s feet veered off towards the kitchen. He paused on the first step to look back at her and wave her onwards.

“I already checked in there,” he called as quietly as he could.

“You can go check upstairs on your own,” she replied at regular volume, her voice extra loud in the stillness of the night. “I believe we’re all going to need some strong tea after this.”

Baffled but unwilling to waste any more time, Hashirama left her to it. His girlfriend was strange sometimes but he loved her and trusted her judgement. If Mito thought tea would help solve whatever was wrong then he would let her make tea and forge on ahead by himself.

Instead of calming him, the sight of no lights on upstairs caused worry to grip his heart like a vice. Tobirama never slept with the light on but that didn’t mean that something still couldn’t have happened. Maybe he’d suffocated in his sleep! Maybe he’d had a bad dream and rolled over only to hit his head on the bedside table! Hashirama had never liked that bedside table anyway. What purpose did it really serve other than to hold the alarm clock that hadn’t even been used since Tobirama had been a teenager and got his first smart phone?

Moving forward on his tiptoes, Hashirama hurried as quickly as he could while still staying silent. The door to his brother’s room was still ajar, which was another thing that caught his attention. Tobirama was very big on privacy and he always slept with his door fully closed so that Hashirama wouldn’t peek in on him when he got up to pee in the middle of the night. The fact that it was closed now could only mean one thing. Obviously the house had been broken in to – through the back door!

The need for silence was thrown out the window in his rush to save his precious sibling. Hashirama threw himself through the door to his brother’s room and smacked the light switch with one hand, his other hand held out at the ready in case he needed to leap in to further action. The sight that met his eyes was not the sight he expected.

Tangled in the sheets on the bed and very obviously naked, both Madara and Tobirama groaned, scrunching their eyes closed against the sudden bright light where moments ago there had been the sweet peace of darkness. Madara curled himself up more tightly and turned his face farther in to his bedmate’s chest. Tobirama raised one of the arms he’d had wrapped around the older man and draped it across his eyes, mumbling nonsensically as he fought his way back to consciousness.

Hashirama saw red.

“WHAT THE FUCK MADARA!?”

What the light hadn’t done, the screaming did. Both men in the bed shot upright, instantly wide awake and staring wildly around themselves for the source of the noise. Somehow Tobirama managed to keep one arm around Madara’s waist until they both spotted the enraged animal standing in the doorway, slowly turning more and more red by the moment.

“You should probably run,” the younger Senju suggested lightly in his sleep-laden voice.

“BETRAYED! BY MY OWN BEST FRIEND!” Hashirama launched himself at Madara, who scrambled out of reach with an embarrassing shriek of fear. The slight jiggling of his bottom as he fled along the wall wasn’t exactly graceful but it was fascinating to at least one of the two who could see it.

“Get away from me!”

“My baby brother! Defiled! You’re not a friend, you’re a fiend! How could you!?”

Still tangled in his blankets, Tobirama heaved what was possibly the most exasperated sigh in his entire life. Considering who he was related to, that said something. It was just all so annoying. He’d gone to all the trouble of finally getting Madara here and now Hashirama was ruining it all. Not to mention that his sleep had been interrupted and he already got so little of it; he didn’t appreciate the few hours he did manage to sneak in being ruined like this.

Lazily standing up and not bothering to cover his nudity, Tobirama announced in as loud a voice as he could without resorting to a yell, “Technically it was me who defiled him.”

That certainly stopped Hashirama dead in his tracks, giving the one he’d been chasing around the room time to scramble for cover behind Tobirama’s back. When he did manage to shake off the stupor as well as the mental image, his next attack was foiled by the sight of his sibling’s naked form. Giving a low cry, Hashirama covered his eyes with both hands.

“Put something on!” he shouted.

“Not until you agree to sit and talk about this like reasonable adults,” Tobirama replied calmly. “If you cannot manage either ‘reasonable’ or ‘adult’ then you are welcome to leave us be as I do believe that this is my room and therefore my privacy which you have invaded.”

“Just wait until I get my hands on you, Madara!”

From his position hidden behind his younger lover, Madara stuck his tongue out at Hashirama even though he couldn’t see it at the moment. “No thanks, I’d rather have your brother’s hands on me.”

“Not helping!” Tobirama chided him tiredly as Hashirama gave vent to a sound reminiscent of an angry pterodactyl.

It took a lot more yelling and even more repetitive pleas for everyone to calm the hell down before finally Hashirama turned his back to allow the both of them to get dressed. He refused to leave them alone in the room in case they got ‘up to some sort of hanky-panky’, to which both of the other men snorted loudly.

Madara and Tobirama dressed themselves in silence, each glancing at the other when they thought they wouldn’t be seen. There hadn’t been much time for conversation the night before and with company that wasn’t likely to leave them alone there probably wouldn’t be any opportunity for a private talk about where exactly they were going from here. Obviously they were both attracted to each other and had been for some time now but neither of them had mentioned anything about dates or lasting relationships.

As was typical of him, Hashirama failed to pick up on the slightly awkward atmosphere when he finally turned around again to eye the two of them suspiciously, grumbling that they might have been kissing while he had his back turned. When all they did was roll their eyes and sweep past him out in to the hallway, he followed behind them and nattered on like an irritated squirrel. Threats and pleas and overly dramatic declarations of betrayal filled the air while the three of them trudged through the darkness, filling it up the empty hallway with their drama as they marched downstairs to the kitchen.

Mito greeted them with three large mugs of tea, the genius woman.

“Good evening boys.” The look on her face could not possibly have been more blasé.

“You don’t seem the least bit surprised to see me here,” Madara noted. She looked at him through a curl of steam and arched one perfectly plucked brow.

“Of course not, dear. Your car was parked on the road two doors down; rather hard to miss.”

Beside her Hashirama gasped and clutched at his chest. “You knew?” he demanded. “And you didn’t tell me?”

“And involve myself in something that is clearly none of my business? I think not. These two will likely thank you to butt your nose out of their business as well. It really isn’t your place to have a say in their relationship, don’t you think?

“Of course it is! The one who I thought was my best friend has clearly violated my poor baby brother’s innocence behind my back! Unforgivable!”

“Innocence?” Tobirama snorted in to his tea. “Surely you don’t still think I’m a virgin?”

Poor Hashirama’s brain appeared to stop for a few seconds, his face twisting in to some very interesting shapes before settling on devastation. “WHAT!?”

The other three looked back at him in disbelief.

“Noooooooo!” Trailing out his childish whine, Hashirama made as though to step around the table and engulf his sibling in a protective embrace. Tobirama fended him off with one foot while sipping his tea and gave him an irritated look.

“I’ve been a legal adult for years now and had several relationships since then. You cannot possibly have thought I never slept with any of them.” He rolled his eyes when Hashirama whimpered. The older Senju turned to his friend with one finger held out and a serious expression.

“You’d better have plans to make an honest man out of my brother! What are your intentions?”

“Oh for the love of God…” It was hard to tell who said it first since all three of the others murmured the same words under their breath.

Scowling as that accusing finger drew too close to his face, Madara batted it away as he snapped, “That’s none of your business! None of this is any of your business!”

“Well I’m making it my business! So? I never took you for the dishonest type to bed a man and leave him the next morning, friend. Do you plan to date my brother? Hmm?”

“Hashirama stop. Now.” Tobirama was having a little difficulty decided whether to sit straight enough to stand up against his sibling or shrink down to try and disappear in to his seat. “You’re making a fool of yourself so just put it down.”

Ignoring him, Hashirama continued to stare expectantly at Madara, who looked at the man next to him uncomfortably, unsure what to say. Right in front of two other people certainly wasn’t the place he had wanted to have this conversation. More privacy would have been appreciated, as well as more time to settle his thoughts than the ten or so minutes since he had been so rudely awakened.

Sitting entirely too still in the chair beside him, Tobirama was going though the same inner turmoil. Even knowing there was a potential for it to be extremely uncomfortable he had hoped they would have this conversation once they woke up in the morning. Ideally the conversation would have happened before they fell in to bed together but he was a man that preferred to grasp the opportunities that life dangled before his eyes. His accidental typo in their text conversation had opened a door he’d been struggling to figure out how to open for quite some time now.

Eventually the lack of any answer began to bother Hashirama and he narrowed his eyes, drawing in a deep breath in obvious preparation to begin yet another round of unnecessary yelling. Tobirama cut him off before he could start.

“Brother, enough. This is between Madara and myself; despite your attachment to me as a sibling this situation has absolutely nothing to do with you. Madara is in no way obligated to declare any intentions – or to have any for that matter. Shut up. Sit down. Drink your damn tea.”

“But…I…hmph.” Chastised, the man in question sank down in the only chair left and huddled in on himself with an air of dejected offence. He turned his body towards Mito and tucked his chin down in a way they all recognized as his signature pout. No one paid him any mind.

Madara was too busy peeking sideways at Tobirama, a reluctant yet anxious expression on his face.

“You really think I have no…intentions?” he asked. “Even after, ah, all that?” Tobirama shifted in his chair but did not lift his eyes from the cup of tea before him and therefore did not see the way Hashirama’s head snapped back up with vivid interest, wide eyes shamelessly fixated on the both of them. Even Mito was watching them attentively in her peripheral vision.

“I’m hardly naïve enough to think that just because you find me attractive you must also be madly in love with me. Are we actually doing this right now? Can this not wait for a little privacy?”

“Fine. Come on.” Madara was up out of his seat and pulling on the back of Tobirama’s shirt – which he only just now realized was actually his own shirt – before he could second guess himself. The way the younger man had chosen to word his sentence gave him a lot of hope for a positive end to this conversation and made him braver than he might have been.

Unfortunately for both of them, Hashirama wasn’t having any of that. He too was up out of his chair in a flash, barring the way out of the room with both arms held wide open and a forbidding expression on his face. Mito sighed, the only one left at the table, and sipped her tea while trying not to look too interested in the proceedings.

“Whoa, whoa, where do you think you’re going?”

“To talk about it,” Madara growled, “like you so obviously want us to. So get out of the way.”

“No! You’re just gonna go get frisky or something as soon as you’re alone! I won’t allow it, not when I still don’t know if your intentions towards my brother aren’t just to get in to his pants!”

“Oh for fuck’s sake!”

Running on very little sleep and already absolutely done with this, Madara gave up. When he whipped around to face Tobirama the younger man jerked in surprise but had little time to do anything else as the next moment Madara had snuck a hand around the back of his neck and yanked him down in to a fiery kiss. Tobirama moaned. Mito only just barely caught herself from dropping her teacup. Hashirama screeched.

They pulled apart, both equally breathless, and Madara cleared his throat. “Uh…dinner?”

“Was that you asking me out on a date or were you just informing you of the last meal that you missed?”

“Do you always have to be such a pompous prat?”

“Yes.”

“I know,” Madara grinned. “I’m rather fond of it.”

“Dinner would be…nice.”

Before the moment could get too sappy Hashirama ruined it, as he was wont to do, with a sobbing wail that sounded something like a dying giraffe. He gave neither of his victims any time to escape as he threw himself forward and wrapped them both in a bone-crushing hug.

“My best friend and my baby brother!” he shouted in their ears. “I’m so happy for you two!”

“Funny, not the impression I was getting before,” Madara growled as he struggled to loosen the hold trapping him in this demented three-way embrace. Hashirama squeezed them tighter.

“Promise me that I can be the best man at your wedding!”

“Wedding!?” Madara screeched.

At the same time Tobirama asked blithely, “For which one of us?”

Hashirama froze; apparently it hadn’t occurred to him yet that he couldn’t best man for both of them. It took a few seconds for him to work through that idea and then suddenly he was wailing again.

“I can’t decide! How am I supposed to choose!?”

Finally deciding it was time for her to step in, Mito arose from her seat at the table and serenely peeled her boyfriend away from the other two to guide him in to her own arms. Hashirama sobbed against her shoulder – whether from happiness or sadness was anyone’s guess – and Mito calmly patted him on the back with one hand, making a discreet shooing motion with the other.

Neither Madara nor Tobirama were in any mood to look a gift horse in the mouth. They took her invitation in an instant, spinning around to tiptoe out of the room and head back upstairs. The sounds of Hashirama’s weeping followed them all the way up until they had closed themselves back in to Tobirama’s bedroom.

“So…are we…dating then?” Madara asked after a few seconds of hesitant quiet.

“Yes.” The decisiveness of Tobirama’s voice was a pleasant comfort after the incredible awkwardness of the scene below.

“And…are we going back to bed now?”

“Gods yes.”

Chuckling, Madara watched his newly acquired boyfriend collapse down on to the bed, turning off the light and moving to follow him quickly. Knowing that Hashirama might not stay distracted forever and come searching for them again, neither one of them bothered to remove their clothing before crawling under the blankets – but they also didn’t let the threat of that stop them from cuddling back in to the same position they had been sleeping in before.

With his head pillowed on Tobirama’s chest, which was wearing his own shirt, Madara closed his eyes and allowed himself to smile in contentment. He could hardly believe the gift he’d been given all because of a simple texting mistake.  

[amagnificentobsession]

@furfurs-fotos

Noting is ever truly hidden from me. I know your secrets too.

slaying in hell 💅🏻😚