#turns out that when i was younger apparently the shop i made my glasses did the wrong prescription glasses

[collecting--stardust]

TIL that my right eye had gone haywire and shit

[itsuki-minamy]

"AYAKA – SIDE STORIES 06": ESCAPE

TRANSLATION: NARU-KUN

* List of Chapters

(1)

Aka Ibuki's parents died when he was eight years old.

It was an accident.

On the night of the typhoon, the car his father was driving fell off the mountain road when he was returning home. Perhaps because of the shock of the accident he had no memory of that moment. Before he knew it, he was lying alone in a hospital bed.

According to the doctors, it was a miracle that he survived.

He heard from his aunt that the truth was different.

"It's my sister's will. Please prioritize prolonging his life."

Apparently that was his mother's will. His father died instantly. His mother was also told that he had died shortly after telling his aunt.

His aunt followed the will of his mother.

That's why Ibuki didn't die.

After being released from the hospital, his aunt took him in, but that didn't last long. After a month of waiting for Ibuki to recover physically and mentally, his aunt took him on a boat and sailed to an island in the south.

The name of the island is Ayaka Island. It was the first time he visited the place.

As soon as he arrived, his aunt headed to a deserted cafe in the old town.

There he met a man wearing a Hawaiian shirt with a really bad print. He is in his early twenties, but despite his youth, he has a strangely old and withered feel to him.

"Hello..."

The man stared at his aunt, smoking the pipe in his mouth and ruffling his strange, finely braided hair with his hands.

"He is neither a dog nor a cat. Don't say that lightly."

"I can't raise this child on my own. Not because of his qualifications. Also because of his environment."

"Then, why me?"

"There is no other suitable option."

"I'm not a random fortune teller either."

"I heard you're already taking care of someone."

"Is he originally from this island? It doesn't matter."

"Not one or two people will change."

"So he's neither a dog nor a cat."

Interactions between the adults went back and forth, like a conversation on the other end of the phone.

For starters, even though she is his aunt, he barely knows her. She is his mother's younger sister and she visited his house once or twice a year. That was the extent of her existence. He has never played with her and has never really talked to her. They only had a strange exchange once. He sensed that not only Ibuki, but also his father and his mother, who was her older sister, were overwhelmed by his aunt's presence.

This was probably due to his aunt's taciturn and gloomy personality, and also due to her unknown occupation.

However, the reason Ibuki is alive is because of his aunt's "business".

That's why... he actually wanted to live with his aunt. He also told his aunt, but she rejected nephew's request.

And she brought him here. She approached a man with a bad attitude sitting across from him at the table.

"I'm not a real "Myakutsugi". If I keep him on my side, things won't turn out well."

When he told her that, her aunt was as grim and expressionless as she always was. However, there was something beautiful about the way she sat in the chair, although she didn't seem worried. It's the same solid place where Ibuki's wishes were rejected.

"First of all, you'll probably be in trouble if you stay like this. From what I saw..."

The man looked down and glared at his aunt.

"You've made a lot of progress, right? Isn't this a good opportunity? Why don't you wash your feet?"

"It's not just me."

"Anyway, I'll give you a hand, okay?"

"It's useless. If you take risks, things will get out of control. This is the path I chose in the first place."

"Did you choose?"

"No. I had a choice. I made the decision."

The man took a deep breath and closed his eyes, groaning softly. His aunt kept her face like a mask and said nothing more.

The shop windows were open and the sunlight streaming in illuminated the tables. The ice cubes melted in the glass on the table in front of him, making a sound. He could hear the bubbling sound of cider. Ibuki listened attentively to the silence of the adults, staring at the small, playful bubbles in the glass.

Then, he suddenly looked up...

He noticed that the man was looking at him.

Their eyes met. There was sympathy in the man's eyes. Since his parents died, other adults... besides his aunt... have looked at him.

However, there seemed to be a depth in that man's eyes that he had never felt before.

He has a harsh but rich depth, just like the ocean that surrounds this island.

"Heh.", the man's mouth curved into a smile. He laughed. That alone was strangely attractive to him.

"I'm Yanagi."

"Eh?"

"Makoto Yanagi. What about you?"

"Ibuki Aka."

"Aka? That's another strange name."

His classmates had told him that many times, but that was the first time he had heard it from an adult he had just met. Furthermore, he was smiling arrogantly. He seemed congested, but for some reason he didn't feel any discomfort.

"You heard what we said, right? Your heartless aunt plans to leave you with me. Are you okay with that?"

It was a mocking tone, but he could understand that it was meant to ease Ibuki's tension. Then he nodded frankly.

His aunt said it was useless and Ibuki said the same. The only relative he knows is his aunt, and if she doesn't want him by her side, there is no other adult he can trust. For Ibuki, it doesn't matter if it's a stranger, a facility somewhere, or an ugly man in front of him.

Just one thing.

The man in front of him, who called himself Yanagi, had a special "meaning" to Ibuki.

"...You're also a "Myakutsugi", right?"

His aunt told him. Yanagi is a "companion" of his aunt.

After confirming that the Yanagi man nodded, he continued.

"Please. Please teach me."

That was Ibuki's only purpose at that moment.

Yanagi stared at him and then let out a sigh.

"Hey, do you know what a pulse connection is?"

"I don't know the details. But I..."

He looked at his aunt sitting next to him. Whether or not she noticed Ibuki's gaze, his aunt was still looking at Yanagi with a mask-like expression on her face.

Ibuki's life was saved by his aunt.

If he could be like his aunt...

At that time, if he were "Myakutsugi"...

It is possible that his father and mother had not died.

"I want to become "Myakutsugi"."

Ibuki shifted his gaze from his aunt to Yanagi and said with deep emotion.

Yanagi's eyes looking at him grew deeper.

That's when it happened.

"...Oh, perfect."

Yanagi suddenly muttered.

Then, a small white shadow gently slid across the table where the three of them were facing each other. He entered the store through an open window. Ibuki couldn't help but feel shocked.

An insect... no, that size he immediately thought it was a small bird, but they were both different. It's origami. For an unusually shaped paper airplane, it's oddly flimsy. It looked more like a cut-out piece of paper than origami. Best of all, it slid on the table and didn't fall. He continued to float above the table.

Ibuki's eyes widened, but Yanagi and his aunt didn't seem surprised either.

"Did you find it? Bring it to me."

He spoke to the floating origami. Ibuki didn't understand and looked at Yanagi and then at his aunt in surprise and doubt, but neither of them offered any explanation.

However, he suddenly understood. It's Yanagi. He is controlling that piece of paper with the power of "Myakutsugi".

"......"

After a while...

Garan.

The bell rang and the cafeteria door opened.

Then a breeze blew through the gap and the same piece of paper he saw slipped into the tent.

Then a boy entered the store following the piece of paper.

The person who entered was a boy about Ibuki's age. Although he was a child like him, he wore the Japanese clothes of a shrine priest.

The piece of paper flew through the air and headed towards Ibuki's table. The boy's gaze followed the movement of the paper and reached Yanagi. He then looked at his aunt, who was sitting with him, and then at Ibuki.

He seemed like an intelligent boy and had the grace of a "good-natured monk". He felt that the gap between the boy in the deserted cafeteria, dressed in Japanese clothing, and a child, highlights something like the boy's "elegance". He reflexively thought it was the exact opposite of him.

Separated by his parents, abandoned by his relatives and surrounded by a heavy atmosphere, he is a gloomy child who does not know what the future holds for him.

He is a pure and wise boy who wears a perfectly wrinkle-free suit and looks at him without the slightest hint of darkness in his eyes.

However, curiously, no feeling of inferiority arose. Maybe it was because the surprise of the piece of paper was still there, and maybe it was because he felt "out of place" at first. Before feeling miserable compared to his opponent, he thought, "What is this?".

A strange, hairy guy who appeared in the middle of a serious topic.

The imbalance of the situation is as if the god enshrined in a small shrine on the island suddenly showed his face in the human world.

"Haruaki. This way."

Yanagi called and the boy approached. After bowing slightly to Ibuki and the others, he asked Yanagi, "Master?", as if he was asking for an explanation.

Yanagi addressed Ibuki first, not the boy.

"Aka. This is Kurama Haruaki. Like you, he is my disciple and seeks to be a connection."

He was relieved. What his aunt had mentioned earlier in the conversation, "taking care of him alone", was probably referring to that child. This boy, who seems to be the exact opposite of him, has the same goal as him.

And...

"So, Haruaki. This is Aka Ibuki. From today, he will be my youngest disciple."

Hearing those simple words, not only Aka, but also the boy in front of him, couldn't help but look at his face.

The expression on the boy's face was one of surprise, confusion and anxiety. And a little hope for the future. A friendly curiosity towards Ibuki, who is the same age.

What about Aka? He wondered how he was looking at him now.

Yanagi smiled, showing his white teeth as the two fell silent due to the suddenness of the situation.

"Let's get along, okay?"

Beside him, he heard his aunt let out a small sigh of relief.

That day, Ibuki Aka met Kurama Haruaki and became Makoto Yanagi's apprentice.

It was the beginning of a new life with a new family.

After...

(2)

Seven years later.

The same smile from back then was in front of Ibuki's eyes. Inside a black frame. Ibuki just stared darkly at that smile that he would never return.

Five days have passed since Yanagi sacrificed himself to quell the fire dragon after the Shinoshima eruption.

Two days had passed since Yanagi's funeral.

(In the end, I...)

It has been seven years since he arrived on the island and seven years have passed since he received Yanagi's teachings. Ibuki worked hard on his training every day and the results of his training were imbued with him. This year he turns fifteen. Ibuki is now on the verge of connection.

But did those seven years really have any meaning?

Ibuki intended to connect like him to protect "his family". But the result is this. Ibuki also lost his "family". This unbearable loss shattered Ibuki's seven years.

His body was heavy. It was as if the flesh and bones had turned to mud. The pitch-black tar adhered to his entire body, eroding it and weighing on his heart. He even felt that his anger at his defeat was being crushed.

In the end, he was unable to protect him.

No, even if he had wanted to protect Yanagi, they couldn't even die together. Even gathering all his strength until the end.

"......"

Ibuki clenched his fists as if to fight the feeling of emptiness. He gritted his back teeth. The force rebelled against itself and his still scarred body groaned in pain. However, it really wasn't enough. He was sure that he deserved more intense pain. The pain was so great that it destroyed him.

However, no pain would be enough to drown out that crippling loss.

"...Aka-kun."

Ibuki turned around slowly when he heard the voice from behind.

Momoko Amamiya was standing there. Her complexion is the worst, but she keeps smiling. This person is always like this. Even when times are difficult or sad, she perseveres and gets through them with a calm smile on her face. She tries to get over it.

"Are you okay? You didn't get much sleep last night either, did you?"

"It's nothing... I'm fine."

"So, what about food? You haven't eaten anything since this morning, right? Shall I make you something simple?"

"No... I have no appetite."

Momoko's smile turned into a wry smile at Ibuki's empty voice.

"But... the wound hasn't healed yet. You need to nourish yourself a little."

"Such thing..."

What Momoko said was correct. She always carefully accumulates the most mundane and everyday things. She doesn't worry about it, but she doesn't hesitate, as she becomes the basis of her life. Only through that rich foundation created, people can advance. She understands it without any logic.

Momoko herself must be enduring a loss as profound as his. Still, she can care about others. Ibuki felt quite inferior to her strength.

Except that...

What is the meaning of nourishing yourself now?

There is no “future” he can move toward now.

Ibuki stayed silent and Momoko didn't force him further. She shifts her gaze from Ibuki to behind him. Ibuki turned to look at the deceased once more, hoping to be drawn in as well.

Makoto Yanagi.

It was exactly like the impression he had when they first met, that he was a careless guy. At the same time, he was also a "great hermit", worthy of admiration by the people of the island.

Strong, generous and bold. However, he was a mysterious man who also had small subtleties.

Ibuki's master. And, maybe... a second father.

He thought of him as some kind of monster that wouldn't move no matter what he did. It was a natural existence, as if it were part of this world, like the wind, water and sun.

He couldn't believe he wasn't there anymore.

"...I'm sure he'll be apologizing in the afterlife. He'll be exaggerating, saying it's hot, but he won't feel bad in the least..."

Momoko said jokingly. There was a slight tremor at the end of the sentence, but Ibuki pretended not to notice.

Makoto Yanagi is dead. He died.

Maybe... normally, it shouldn't have happened that way.

(Damn! It's my fault after all.)

He knew that the fire dragon's power was increasing. Yanagi also took precautions against that problem. It is true that the moment was terrible, but if there had been a little more time, it would have been possible to deal with the situation.

That little bit of time.

They couldn't prepare for even that small period of time.

He couldn't help his master.

What a shame.

"I..."

A series of melting thoughts welled up from the depths of his heart. A dizzying fever and chills shook his entire body.

(I should have stayed. Even if he had died as a result.)

When he thought of the relief he felt at that moment, he couldn't help but cry. At that moment, he would have given everything he had and lived his "life" to the fullest. There may have been some regret, but there must have been some pride.

But it was not suitable.

He left his master and retired.

And he will continue to live without the feeling of being "alive."

(Why? Why is this happening?)

So...

"...Aka."

The moment he heard that voice, it was as if the black tar that was eating him suddenly ignited and burst into flames. The feelings welling up from deep within his chest turned into anger like magma.

He looked back.

His brother was standing there, looking at him with a sad look.

His heart beat violently. The flow of blood seemed to press against his earlobes.

Still, the reason he didn't get angry right away was probably because Momoko was there.

"Haruaki-kun."

Momoko's voice had a slight hint of impatience. Although he didn't talk about the details, she must have guessed something from the way the two of them behaved when they returned from the island. They had grown up like true brothers, but an unusual rift had developed between them.

"......"

Ibuki took a step forward. As he passed by his brother.

"Come on."

He said quietly and continued without looking back.

After a moment, he realized that his brother was following him. Ibuki continued walking, trying with all his might to contain himself, who looked like he was about to explode.

"Ah, Aka-kun?"

Momoko called out to him from behind, but he ignored her and left. Even his brother didn't criticize Ibuki's attitude. He may have decided it would be better if it was just the two of them too. Without saying anything, Ibuki put on his shoes and walked out the door. His brother followed him in silence.

Without thinking, he walked around the house and out into the garden. Ibuki was in front, followed by his brother.

In fact, he was planning to move to a more remote location. But when Momoko disappeared, he couldn't take it anymore. Ibuki's body trembled and stopped. His brother also stopped, following his movements. Ibuki turned his entire body around him and the two looked at each other.

"......"

Kurama Haruaki, Ibuki's brother.

Kurama calmly accepted Ibuki's silent scolding gaze.

Kurama's complexion was pale and his expression dark. Compared to the face of his brother, Ibuki, he seemed to have aged suddenly. He wondered if it was since Yanagi died that he looked him in the face like that. Even when they recovered the body of his mentor and at his funeral, the two barely exchanged a glance.

And now...

Ibuki felt like he was going to lose himself with the anger bubbling inside of him. He could feel the negative emotions boiling and burning his mind and body.

"Ah..."

Stepping ahead of his brother who was about to call him, Ibuki spat out a sharp question.

"Why did you run away?"

Kurama's face stiffened.

+++++++++++

As Momoko had guessed, there was still a gap between the two of them at that moment that was dripping with blood. A sharp and icy crack where pain, anger and helplessness erupt.

Maybe the brothers were trying to make up for it. Ibuki still thinks there's no way he can do something like that, but maybe that's what he wanted to do at that moment.

Trying to heal the wounds, even a little. Look forward like Momoko.

Of course, he couldn't do that.

In fact, the gap widened.

For Ibuki, the conversation they had only confirmed that it was impossible to repair their relationship. It was clear that the two had separated.

So he left the island. He wouldn't say anything. He wouldn't leave anything behind.

Not that it was a guess. But, he could not stay on the island.

However, as soon as he left the island, he had an idea of where he should go. Or maybe he was remembering it unconsciously. A phrase that his master once told him. He listened to snippets of a conversation he had with a "girlfriend" who was "from the same industry" as if it were someone else's business.

It was like catching a cloud.

Still, Ibuki bet everything on that possibility without hesitation.

(3)

A Mitama floated in the air, emitting a faint light.

For young Ibuki, "it" he rarely saw existed in his daily life, like a butterfly or a spider. It wasn't until he was finally old enough that he realized that "it" was invisible to anyone but him.

When Ibuki found out, his mother told him not to tell anyone. However, Ibuki didn't think that being able to see "it" was anything special. There was nothing good about being able to see "it," and he had never had a bad experience because he could see "it." To young Ibuki, "it" was so obvious that he didn't feel like thinking deeply about it.

So, of course, he had no idea of the dangers such a "specialty" entailed.

"Help me!"

Behind a nearby shrine stretched a half-abandoned grove of trees.

What he saw that day was a little different than usual. It usually gave off a dim light, but that day it seemed cloudy for some reason. Seeing it made him feel disgusted. Then he threw a stone. It was a light feeling, like he was shooing it away. He never thought "it" was going to "fight back".

The murky light condensed and solidified, revealing a pair of creepy eyes. He attacked Ibuki, shaking with laughter.

He ran away desperately.

But "it" haunted him.

As he chased after Ibuki, "it" gradually grew larger, becoming more sinister and "disgusting" as he approached from behind. Ibuki almost stopped breathing from fear.

Still, he resisted with all his might.

"Go over there!"

He waved his arms and raised his voice.

At that moment, "it" suddenly stopped moving, but the situation only got worse. Due to the encouragement given to him, his eyes recognized Ibuki and pointed firmly.

"It" jumped and approached.

That would hit him.

Ibuki instinctively closed his eyes, but the pain and shock he had predicted did not come. On the contrary, he noticed that the "unpleasant feeling" he had felt suddenly vanished.

When he opened his eyes in surprise, he saw the back of an adult standing there, as if he was protecting Ibuki from "it".

It was his aunt. Just as Ibuki was shocked once again by "it", he fell to the ground on the other side of his aunt and melted as if he was boiling. Ibuki looked dumbfounded at the scene in front of him.

His aunt looked over her shoulder.

Then, she told him with the same cold look as always.

"You have talent. It's not good."

+++++++++++

It was raining a lot.

A woman dressed in black mourning stood in a corner of the cemetery, holding a black umbrella. The flowers she had offered lay wet from the rain on the grave in front of her.

Ibuki looked at the woman's back from a distance, compared it with the vague memory of her, and then walked out under the shade of a tree. There was no umbrella. Instead, he pulled the hood over his head.

The woman should have noticed him by now, but there was no noticeable reaction from her. Ibuki walked towards the woman in front of the grave, consciously trampling the gravel under his feet.

Silently, he stopped behind the woman.

The drizzle gently hit the woman's umbrella, wetting Ibuki's hood. The smell of plants melting in the rain tickled his nose.

(What should I say?)

Ibuki pondered as he looked at the woman's back.

"Long time no see, huh."

The woman opened her mouth first. After a few seconds of silence, Ibuki answered briefly: "Yes.".

"How old are you now?"

"Fifteen."

"Yes. It's been seven years since then."

The woman said as she slowly turned around.

She looked at Ibuki.

"You have grown."

"...Compared to before."

After all, he hasn't seen her since he became Yanagi's disciple. It is their first reunion since childhood. At the very least, it was natural that the figure had grown larger.

On the other hand, the woman in front of him had not changed at all from what he remembered. At least that's what he thought.

A pale face and lifeless eyes. She has an inorganic touch, with an exhausted expression. It's the same as when she invited Ibuki to Ayaka Island. It was as if time had stopped for her.

However, unlike when he was a child, Ibuki could now see things.

Tense but perfectly controlled vitality. She is sharp and hard, but also flexible. The woman in front of him possessed the "power" of a well-trained Japanese sword. She also has a dark "power" that causes the blade to become soaked in blood.

Ibuki unconsciously gasped at the cold touch. His body was naturally tense.

Yanagi's "companion".

Another person Ibuki knows.

(How should we talk?)

Ibuki was thinking more nervously than before. However, as if to relieve his stress, the woman turned her head and looked at the grave again.

The grave where Ibuki's parents are buried. These are the graves of her sister and her brother-in-law.

Today was the anniversary of their death.

"Do you come here every year?"

He asked before thinking about it. "Yes.", the aunt answered the question indifferently.

"Because it's a relationship."

"Relationship? You mean your immediate family?"

"That's true... but it's a little different. For me, my sister was the thread that connected me to the world she lived in."

"World?"

"Yes."

His aunt nodded slightly.

"A different world than the one I am in, a real world. It is because I am connected to that that I was able to avoid falling."

"Even after her death?"

"Life or death does not matter."

His aunt said flatly. There was no pressure from those words, but Ibuki still couldn't help but tremble.

"I'm definitely connected to that place. For people like me, that fact is important. I visit here once a year to confirm its importance."

He was aware that he probably didn't fully understand the meaning of his aunt's words, that she said that so calmly. Still, he felt that he could grasp the "weight" contained in her words. She dared to tell him that story and that was her intention.

In fact...

"It seems that Yanagi has died."

He assumed that meant the introduction was over. She got straight to the point.

As Ibuki trembled and prepared himself...

"But yes. It seems like that man didn't take any shortcuts. It was the right decision to leave you there."

"What do you mean?"

"Now you can stand on your own."

That was a surprising evaluation and he had to admit that it was an evaluation that went against his expectations. Once again, Ibuki realized that he wanted to be looked down upon as an immature chick instead of treated as a full-fledged person.

Because once they recognize you, you can't trust them anymore.

He pressed his lips tightly. Once again, he was made aware of his own weakness and complacency.

Her words and actions were probably based on reading Ibuki's intentions when he came to meet her. However, he couldn't go back there. He had to hold on to that, even though it was ugly.

"Please."

Ibuki exhaled from all over his body.

As if he wanted to throw himself to the ground, he fell to his knees and prostrated himself.

"Please make me your disciple. I want you to start from scratch!"

The mud soaked his knees and the rain wet his back.

Inadvertently...

"You said a long time ago that I have a talent. Then you will be able to bring out that talent. Any method is fine. It doesn't have to be the right path. Even if I stray from the path!"

A long, heavy silence followed.

Only the rain was pouring down, severely chilling Ibuki's body.

After...

"Why?"

Her aunt asked briefly.

Ibuki rested his forehead on the ground.

"I want revenge on my master's enemy! I don't want to lose anyone else. I want the "power" to do it!"

He appealed with all his heart.

At that moment, it seemed as if the life line flowing beneath the earth trembled slightly.

The silence returned.

After...

''Even if you go off the path...''

His aunt murmured. Even though the few lines she said were in the same voice as before, it sounded like some kind of crazy emotion was coming out of her.

"It seems you've heard from Yanagi."

"...There aren't too many details."

"Still, you know that, right? That I am a user of evil methods."

"Yes."

"And you came to me?"

"That's all."

Ibuki answered clearly.

His aunt took a deep breath.

Her voice was somewhat hoarse, as if she had suddenly aged.

"...Moron."

(There is no doubt. I am stupid. Still, I cannot choose another path.)

He couldn't choose.

That day, Aka Ibuki became a disciple of his second master in his life.

(4)

"The important thing is harmony."

Ibuki nodded tentatively in response to his brother's explanation, not really understanding.

It's been half a month since he went to the island, he separated from his aunt and became Yanagi's apprentice. They had already met with the Amamiya family, where they were staying, and Sanji Inou, who was a friend of Yanagi, took care of all the arrangements. Ibuki is already a resident of Ayaka Island. Legally, at least.

However, he did not feel that he fit in on this idyllic island that he visited for the first time. In fact, he makes her realize how foreign he is.

"Ah. Look! The flow of life is very rich on this island, right?"

As his older brother said, "that thing" was common on this island. Additionally, they are all a little larger than those seen on the mainland. This fact was undoubtedly part of the wealth his brother was talking about, but Ibuki's honest impression was that there were a lot of insects in the field and they were huge.

Apparently, on this island, "it" is called "Mitama".

"...I see. Now that I understand things like harmony and abundance, please tell me more about the techniques. If I'm going to be a connection, it won't work unless I can use jutsu."

Ibuki grumbled, feeling self-conscious.

To put it in a childish way, to Ibuki, a pulse connection is a "wizard". And a magician is a magician because he can use "magic". A wizard who can't use magic is like a fish who can't swim. No, first of all, literally speaking, a person who cannot use magic is not a "wizard".

And the brother in front of him, who is only a year older than him, is certainly capable of using magic.

He was later told that the mysterious pieces of paper floating in the air that he saw when he met them were apparently manipulated by his brother. This boy already masters the same connection technique as Yanagi and his aunt.

However, when his brother heard Ibuki's hurried murmurs, he shook his head as if he had his way.

"No, Ibuki-kun. The most important thing for a pulse connector is not to manipulate the technique, but to feel the movement of the vital pulse and vital energy. To become one with nature, or, rather, to observe the life form. I mean, the art of connection is just a secondary aspect of that style."

His brother gave him a pompous lecture with a clear and proud expression on his face. It's been half a month since they met, but he already had a good idea of his brother's personality. He is an intelligent, classy and somehow elegant "good monk", just like the impression he had when he first met him. At the same time, he was a "weird guy" who was quite out of place.

If the two were classmates, it would probably be for the other's sake to force him to become the troublesome class president. He was sure he would be happy to do it too.

However, when he becomes "brother", he is quite annoying.

"...Haruaki."

Yanagi has also confirmed that there is no need to hold back. Ibuki shouted his brother Kurama's name with a clear hint of displeasure, even though they still called each other by their last name.

"I already completely understand your connection theory. But I came here to learn the technique. Both you and my master can use it, but I am the only one who still can't use it. I don't like that. I can't forgive myself for being the only one who seems to be "different"."

"That's because Ibuki-kun just became an apprentice."

"It's Aka."

"Eh?"

"Come on, Aka, it's okay."

He didn't want to pressure him, but his voice came out naturally. Kurama looked confused. He wanted to get along with him, but it wasn't working. That was his face.

Ibuki continued speaking, realizing that the cause of this was not Kurama but himself.

"I also heard something similar to what you are saying from my master. I understand that this way of thinking is the basis of connection and that it is important. I suppose it is a philosophy of connection or a way of thinking. But with that said, I want to go there as soon as possible."

Now that Ibuki has lost his parents and left where he lived, the only people he turns to are the feelings of being "connected". And even before that thought was even vague, Ibuki felt like he was wasting his time without even having his feet on the ground. That feeling also led to frustration.

He wanted to "feel" it as soon as possible. To feel that he was not wrong, to feel that this is right and to be able to accept the current situation.

"...Please, Haruaki."

Kurama also seemed to sense Ibuki's frustration. His older brother withdrew his usual smile and looked at Ibuki with a serious look. Then, after some hesitation, he made up his mind and nodded.

Face Ibuki head on and slowly close the distance.

"Close your eyes."

"Eh?"

"Alright."

Kurama spoke with a serious tone. Ibuki suppressed the resistance that he had suddenly learned and closed his eyes as he told him.

"Breathe deeply, relax your body and try to relax."

Following Kurama's words, he only opened one eye. Kurama, who was standing right in front of him, had both eyes closed. Likewise, he took a deep breath and relaxed, concentrating slowly and deeply. Ibuki quickly closed his eyes and took a deep breath, sharpening his awareness.

Concentration.

Ibuki's thoughts disappeared.

"Can you feel the movement of the life force flowing through you?"

"Somehow."

"Focus on the flow."

"I'm doing it..."

"More. Like seeing it with your eyes, touching it with your hands, feeling it."

"......"

He thought it was ridiculous.

However, he quickly discarded the ridicule and became serious.

He seriously concentrated from the bottom of his heart to feel the vitality. At a level that he didn't even notice on a daily basis. He chased the sensations that he had somehow always felt, as if he were seeing them with his eyes or touching them with his hands.

The vitality within him.

Kurama's vitality was right next to him.

Besides...

"Oh, the Mitama came. Do you understand?"

"......!"

He understood it.

His eyes remained closed. They haven't even touched his body. However... the Mitamas were at their side.

Two... no, there were even more. Three bodies, four bodies and more. There are many different ones, eleven in total. Floating in the air, as if emerging from the ground, a total of eleven Mitamas approached and gently surrounded the two of them. He could clearly feel their presence without seeing them with his eyes or even touching them with his hands. Not only their existence, but also the curiosity that the Mitamas have towards them.

Recognition.

That fact gave him goosebumps with excitement.

"...Okay. So, while we maintain the current state, let's take our senses "outside". "Down" would be good. Look further down, under your feet. Do you recognize it?"

Recognize. There was something there.

Far below the ground he walked on.

Something vast, like the ocean, shimmered and flowed underground. A mysterious band of light that is both dazzling and vague at the same time. Vast, secret, solemn and beautiful. Countless... swarms of Mitamas, as many as stars, are born like bubbles and are devoured again.

The things that make up the world cannot be seen with the naked eye, but they are definitely there.

The life line.

Just looking at it made him feel like he was being sucked in.

Ibuki was...

(Wah...)

He screamed and stumbled, feeling like he was drowning. He clung desperately to whatever his hand suddenly touched.

Ibuki was about to fall when something gently covered the hand he was holding himself with.

"Touching, pulling and connecting with that thing is what connects us to our pulse."

Before he knew it, Ibuki opened his eyes, which should have been closed. His back was broken and he clung to his brother, grabbing the chest area of his clothing with both hands.

Kurama lightly placed his palm over the hand he was holding on to.

Kurama was silently looking at Ibuki with his usual smile on his face. Ibuki gasped, looked at Kurama, came to his senses, and let go of his hand.

The feeling he had just before disappeared.

However, the "real feeling" remained.

The "real feeling" that he had definitely come into contact with something bigger than he wanted, but far beyond him.

"I'm sure you can do better if you practice..."

Kurama said shyly and looked at Ibuki.

"What do you think, Aka?"

He didn't seem proud and he didn't even seem like he was trying to react. It was a simple, natural question with no other intentions.

Ibuki took a deep breath.

His body was full, but his mind was blank. He had no time to decorate it nor energy to protect himself.

Just openly, but with a serious face...

"I'm hungry."

Kurama smiled widely and nodded.

"I agree."

+++++++++++

A moonlit night in the mountains, in the middle of nowhere.

Ibuki stared at "it" with an icy gaze as it laughed silently. The bulging eyeball in the center of "it" looked at Ibuki with amusement.

Ibuki now knows the familiar name of "it".

Aramitama.

"Uh, "exterminate" the core without damaging it."

Ibuki nodded slightly without turning around as his master ordered him from behind.

There is a power that flows beneath the earth and is the source of life.

Yanagi has that power, which goes by various names around the world... and his aunt also called it "the life line". It is said that all life originates there and returns there after death. He doesn't know the truth and he doesn't need to know it. What matters is the fact that it is about "power".

Pulse connection is a technique that uses that "power", the vital energy that flows through the veins of life.

Ibuki crossed his arms and fingers to form a seal. Although the movements were Yanagi style, his aunt, who became the new master, did not try to change her disciple's movements to her own style. That's because his "true strength" isn't there.

"Man, earth and sky!"

Ibuki chanted a curse and controlled the life force within himself. Naturally, the essence of life also flows through Ibuki. However, it is not enough to have his own vitality. Therefore, the pulse connector uses his own life force as a priming source, pumping life force from the life line flowing at the bottom of the earth. This is how he makes use of the life force of his life line.

However, when Ibuki used the technique outside the island, he realized once again how blessed Ayaka Island had been with the blessings of life. On the continent, the flow of life is deep and fine. That is why a more severe control of power is necessary.

The Aramitama approached Ibuki relentlessly, regardless of Ibuki's circumstances. He still didn't have enough vitality. Ibuki evaded the Aramitama's charge by rolling.

(Damn!)

It was as if he had returned immediately after becoming Yanagi's apprentice. However, the new master did not give any advice to the undecided disciple. She was just watching him.

No, or maybe she was just watching. Whether Ibuki is injured or not, there is no guarantee that his aunt will help him.

But that was fine.

A trusting heart becomes sweet. Pampering takes away strength.

"Man, earth and sky!"

Ibuki reassembled the technique once more.

The lifeblood that flows underground sometimes rises to the surface and bursts out of the surface. When the life force that has left the life line acquires a certain quantity and density, it takes a form called Mitama. Ibuki has seen the mysterious sea moon swimming in the air since he was a child. Those who have the talent to do so cannot see it with the naked eye and are basically useless and harmless, like insects.

However, the life force that constitutes the Mitama sometimes becomes "stagnant" due to the influence of the outside world. When all their vitality stagnates and becomes clouded, the Mitama strengthen their own existence and begin to attack things that are sources of influence from the outside world: people.

Like that Aramitama right in front of him.

(Next, decide!)

With a strong light in his eyes, Ibuki completed his technique. Life pulsated and moved the atmosphere. A whirlwind occurred that gained momentum in the blink of an eye. Furthermore, the life energy that created the whirlwind condensed and converged, turning into a sharp blade.

Countless swords slashed at the Aramitama. The Aramitama let out a voice that could not be called a scream or laughter as it broke into pieces and crumbled.

Finally, only the center eyeball, the core of the Aramitama, remained in the air. However, the moment Ibuki relaxed his mouth, the last sword grazed their eyeball.

"Ah..."

He couldn't help but exclaim. But it was too late. The wound caused by the blade spread rapidly and the eyeball, like the rest of his body, collapsed and disappeared.

(Damn.)

Ibuki gritted his back teeth. His aunt's instructions were not to damage the core. And the Aramitama that just disappeared before his eyes was the third Aramitama of the night.

He has done it many times with the Aramitama. Even if the individual was much more powerful than the current one, he was confident that he could purify it on his own. That's what it seemed like.

Neither the unfavorable conditions of being outside the island nor the irregular fighting style of leaving behind only core can be used as an excuse. That result is nothing more than proof of Ibuki's immaturity. The feelings of worthlessness that he had been carrying since losing Yanagi were finally weighing heavily on him.

However, even after the disciple's third failure, the aunt's expression did not change.

With the same calm voice as the two previous times...

"One more time."

She said briefly.

Then, his aunt raised her right hand slightly and gently extended her index finger.

Then, she murmured a spell into her mouth.

In the dark forest deep in the mountains, his aunt's fingers were white as if they were glowing faintly in the moonlight.

As if attracted by the whiteness, a new Mitama emerged from somewhere in the forest.

The Mitama floated and approached his aunt without hesitation.

Like a dragonfly, he perched on the tip of her outstretched finger. Then, after shaking his body, he began to stagnate and become cloudy. At the same time, he expanded and became more sinister. Ibuki tensed and paled even though he was already getting used to the sight.

Finally, the Mitama's appearance changed drastically, the center of it opened and an eyeball appeared from within. From Mitama to Aramitama. It's his aunt's technique. Deliberately contaminating one's vitality was an act considered taboo in Yanagi's teachings.

"Exterminate it without damaging the core."

His aunt's voice sounded cold.

His aunt pointed her index finger at Ibuki. The Aramitama was ejected and jumped into the air, expressing distorted joy. Ibuki shook off the fear of his family, not the fear of Aramitama, but the fear of taboos, and focused on the fourth battle.

This time he was successful.

The Aramitama's body disappeared and only the eyeballs and cores that remained fell to the ground.

Leaving Ibuki, who was breathing heavily, his aunt silently approached the core and gently picked it up, as if she were picking a wildflower.

She moved directly in front of Ibuki.

"Hand."

He was salivating. Ibuki didn't want to admit it, but he extended his hand in a shy gesture. His aunt gave Ibuki the core she had collected.

Ibuki's gaze was fixed on his own hands.

He couldn't immediately describe the sensation that arose from his palm. It's raw but fake, slimy but sharp. However, he felt as if he was throbbing slightly. He is dirty, scary and stirs up negative emotions. At the same time, he was brutal, domineering and destructive.

The "power" of the Aramitama was still very present.

"It is diluted to the limit. In my opinion, there is no problem with its constitution. However, it is still not easy."

The rather modest warning sent a shiver down Ibuki's spine.

If it is painful, he will endure it. However, it was difficult to shake the physiological reluctance to do something even more unforgivable than the taboo his aunt had shown him.

If what he was about to do was a legitimate connection, for example, to Yanagi, it must be an unforgivable act. Ibuki himself would have hated him just a few weeks ago.

But now...

In front of Ibuki's eyes, in the palms of his hands, a certain "power" crouched in a terrifying shape.

In search of that "power", Ibuki left the island and the people who lived there.

He deviated.

Even if he deviates from the right path...

"Please prepare for the next thing."

"The next?"

"It looks like a big dining room."

Ibuki forced a smile and raised the core of the Aramitama above his head. He grabbed it with the fingers of both hands and crushed it with all his strength. The core collapsed and the thick contents spilled onto Ibuki's face. Ibuki opened his mouth wide to accept it and swallowed it.

It looked like a suicide attack.

During Ibuki's childhood, he followed in Yanagi's footsteps.

(5)

The season has arrived when it is cold on the island.

While sweeping the shrine grounds, Kurama stopped for a moment to look at the trees. Then, he suddenly thought of the passage of time.

The smell of the air was changing. Also the appearance of the trees. The pulsation of vitality.

Coming soon...

"...It is winter."

The flow of time never stops. He may not notice it right away, but changes occur day by day.

It does not matter what happens.

For example, even if a younger master or disciple disappears.

Kurama was reconsidering that obvious thing.

"He said he was going to the mainland. Maybe he doesn't want to be on this island without Yanagi-sensei right now."

Momoko said it. She also said: "If that's the case, it's okay.".

However, Kurama felt differently. He wouldn't say that Momoko didn't feel the same way, but for that reason alone, he couldn't believe that his younger brother was leaving the island.

He never runs away. Even now he felt that he left the island to move forward.

The youngest disciple left the island without saying anything. After that, Momoko received a letter where he told her not to worry, but she hasn't been able to contact him.

"I'll let him do what he wants for now."

Inou said it. Even as he said that, he seems to be working behind the scenes to at least try to discover his whereabouts. Now that Yanagi has passed away, he volunteered to serve as legal guardian for Kurama, Ibuki, and the others. Even Kurama couldn't oppose Inou's meticulous attitude of watching over him.

Just when...

"I wonder if this is okay."

He didn't know it. And there was no one left to tell him the answer.

Kurama stared at the trees as they prepared for winter.

After that, he went back to cleaning the temple grounds.

+++++++++++

"Look. It's burned."

"You, again... you just started a fire without permission and your master scolded you."

"What? You don't need it?"

"I did not say that."

"In that case, look."

"God..."

Kurama stopped sweeping the ground and turned to Ibuki with an angry look on his face. However, his angry face quickly turned into a bitter smile, and by the time he reached Ibuki's side, squatting in front of the remains of the bonfire, he had returned to his usual kind face.

"Yes."

Ibuki said, crouching down as he handed her the baked potato.

The Kurama who received that was...

"Hot!"

"Idiot. It's freshly baked. Don't hold it with your bare hands."

"Because you're... ah, it's floating in the wind, right? You're very skilled."

"This way it cools down faster."

"You use jutsu for stupid things..."

"I put out the fire with jutsu and I also use jutsu to clean up the aftermath. This is what I practice every day."

At the younger disciple's words, Kurama smiled once again and said, "Yes, yes.". Then, after making a hand seal, he recited a short spell, awakened a small kamaitachi, and peeled the skin off a baked potato as if he were using a knife.

Ibuki, who had been proud of his brother's sophisticated techniques, adopted a serious expression. Seeing the slightly regretful expression on his face, Kurama smiled and asked, "What do you think?".

"As always, you're good with that jutsu."

"Because I have the basics. Unlike someone who just wants to do practical things."

"What you are about to eat is a product of that application."

"I see. Thank you, Aka."

Kurama obediently thanked him and sat next to Ibuki. Ibuki, perhaps at the right moment, grabbed a baked potato and broke it in two.

When they both took a bite at the same time, satisfied smiles appeared on both of their faces.

"What do you think of this roast?"

"Raise your arms, Aka. You're a fully-fledged pulse connector now."

"Oh, I got my brother's approval. However, my goal is not to be a "full-fledged" person, but to be in the same league as the "strongest"."

"You don't need strength to run a roast potato shop."

"It's not a roast potato shop. I mean, why would I have a roast potato shop?"

Ibuki glanced at his brother, who still seemed a little out of place.

Meanwhile, Kurama was smiling and stuffing his face with baked potato.

"Come to think of it, Aka. Is this something Momoko-san and Jingi will share?"

"They can't miss it."

"What about the master?"

"......"

Ibuki was speechless. Originally, since he had been scolded for starting a fire earlier, he subconsciously intended to keep it a secret from Yanagi.

However, apart from Momoko, he did not believe that young Jingi was capable of keeping a secret.

Kurama seemed to be having fun somehow.

"The previous approval is on hold. If my master finds out that I don't have enough, he will definitely punish me."

"...In other words, we don't have to find out. Change of plan. Let's eat it all ourselves."

"Isn't that what it means to be persistent?"

"So make sure you don't reveal it. I'm telling you, since you ate it, you're an accomplice, Haruaki."

"Let's do this. Give the two remaining roast potatoes to Momoko-san and ask her to serve them for dinner."

"So, are you going to share the two pieces with everyone?"

"I'm going to use it as a cooking ingredient. Momoko-san will be happy, right?"

"Oh, I see..."

"Maybe some baked potatoes would be nice. Or melt butter and sprinkle with salt..."

"You're so brilliant, Haruaki! That's why you're my master's best disciple."

"Hehe. Harmony is important in everything."

"In that case, let's test the potatoes to make sure they are cooked properly."

"That's right. It's difficult if it's half-baked."

They both laughed as they finished the baked potato.

Then, when Yanagi saw the potatoes lined up for dinner, he looked at the two disciples of his in front of Momoko, who was praising the person who provided the ingredients.

Then, without saying a word, he sat down at the table, smiling bitterly at the two strangers.

[kyndaris]

A Jaded Bookstore

A week or so after my date with Spring, I met up with bachelor number 6. Tall, Caucasion, with a head of wild unruly curls and younger than me by four years, he was the only one to offer the date that I’d been craving from the start. A first date at Kinokuniya - the Japanese bookstore in the heart of the city. So, you can imagine the dilemma I found myself in. How could I say ‘no’ to books? Even if the date turned out terribly, it was simply impossible to tear myself away from the bait that had been lain before this bookworm.

Not that there were any immediate red flags when it came to Mr 6 - who shall henceforth be called Benoit. Plus, it was going to be a date in the middle of the day AND it was in a populated store. No chance of being brutally murdered. I hoped.

Benoit met me outside the store. Or, at least he tried to, but since I’m a slippery eel of a bookworm, I’d managed to sneak in and head to my favourite section: Fantasy and Science Fiction. After looking through a few titles, I saw a notification on my phone and responded sheepishly that I had slipped into the store but would try to meet him at the entrance. Once introductions were properly made, we resumed roaming the shelves of my favourite genres and chatted generally about our lives.

Much of the conversation devolved into him - Benoit - asking me a few questions and me responding. Once I had finished, I often had to remind myself to reverse the question and learn more about him as well. You know, simple getting to know each other stuff. A dance one would think I’m already aware of having gone on quite a few first dates.

Alas, I can see why people want to skip the small talk.

Regardless, somehow the conversation came round to Rian Johnson’s Knives Out film. It was probably because I was recounting how utterly disappointing Amsterdam was. In any case, we both expressed our delight at the upcoming Glass Onion film (yes, this was in early November 2022. I know the post is up in February 2023 but give a girl a break when it comes to detailing the adventures of her love life, will you?), even as we strolled through the Fantasy and Sci-Fi section for several long minutes as I pondered what books to buy.

Was I disappointed that he didn’t offer to buy my books for me? A bit. But in our current economy (or the economy of November 2022), it didn’t feel appropriate to demand such favourable treatment. Especially when Benoit was still studying to be a speech pathologist. 

Can you imagine? Truly? Me, the woman was raking in more dough - albeit saddled with a hefty mortgage - requesting a poor penniless University-aged boy (okay, they probably aren’t that destitute nor is the world so Dickensian) to buy me gifts on the first date? It just wouldn’t be fair. 

After all, I’m a strong independent woman who don’t need to man. Except maybe Henry Cavill’s depiction of Geralt of Rivia. Or Viggo Mortensen’s portrayal of Aragon?

Phew! When did it get so steamy in here? And what was I talking about again?

Ah, that’s right. The date with Benoit. So, because we both liked our mystery thriller films and Benoit himself was fascinated by accents, especially the ridiculous one affected by Daniel Craig, his codename was formed.

Once I had roamed my fill, I walked away with two novels. Benoit, too, had also picked out a novel he had been eyeing for a while. Jade City by Fona Lee. Apparently he, like a bookish online friend that I know who reads this blog but doesn’t like or comment on these posts, had also fallen for quite a few Chinese authors and was also dabbling with their online works. He also heaped quite a bit of praise on Cixin Liu and the Three-Body Problem. 

It’s probably a sign that I ought to buy a few of his novels and give them a spin myself. See what the fuss is all about.

By the time we had shopped to our hearts content, our stomachs were grumbling for food. Eager to have a variety of options for lunch, we headed towards Pitt Street Mall and the food court on the upper levels rather than the one down underneath Myers. After all, this was a first-rate date. It needed to be fancy. No expensive McDonalds burgers for us!

Though Benoit was able to settle for a karaage rice bowl, I was less decisive with my food options. It wasn’t after a few minutes of looking through everything that was on offer before I settled on going Greek and grabbed a pita wrap from Zeus Street Greek.

FANCY!

And just like our conversation in the bookstore, Benoit would ask me question after question. I suppose the one thing I felt could have been better was if he allowed some topics to breathe. Instead of dissecting more on the lore of World of Warcraft, he would jump to the number of pets I had rather than allow for a sizable rant about what the writers had done to poor Sylvanas character and the blatant favouritism shown to the Alliance over Horde leaders.

Not that I’ve played World of Warcraft much over the years. I’ve dabbled with it but each new expansion seems to retcon backstory or walk back character developments so quick as to give anyone that wants to follow the lore whiplash.

Regardless, I learned that he had an older sister that had gotten him invested into the Warcraft universe, that he wasn’t much of a comic reader and that he had gone back to university to pursue something he was passionate about instead of coasting on his first degree that had proven to be less than enjoyable.

Once lunch was done, we even had pancakes at gram!

Big fluffy pancakes that left me stuffed and unable to move.

But as with all good things, the date had to come to an end. As we both took the train, we headed to the closest train station. And as we said our goodbyes, Benoit leaned over and gave me a hug before I could duck out of the way! The sheer nerve of the man! How dare he! 

Still, trying to be polite, I patted him awkwardly on the back and so, the date concluded.

While I like to keep an open mind, a part of me wonders if Benoit will be the one. He did offer a second date to watch Glass Onion when it was in cinemas but I was busy during that time. A disappointment, to be true, but after I’d managed to catch it on Netflix, I was able to provide him with quite a few insights on what I thought about the sequel movie to Knives Out. 

Can I just say that the ending, as they were smashing the glass statues, I was honestly terrified for Helen’s feet. She was wearing open-toed sandals for goodness sake! She could have totally cut herself up if she hadn’t been careful!

Other than that, my favourite character was Peg and her ‘so done with this bullshit’ attitude when it came to dealing with Birdie. I don’t think I could ever willingly get into such a toxic codependent relationship - be it with a partner or friends - but I loved how Jessica Henwick portrayed Peg in the film. Including her outfits that weren’t quite cool enough.

Don’t get me started on the stretching in the background when everyone was still getting introduced. So good!

Long story short, I just wanted an outlet to talk about Glass Onion following everyone falling in love with Daniel Craig as the gay southern detective. And maybe ruminate on relationships? I don’t know. Probably not.

It just felt good to chat with someone that I can connect with when it came to talking about mystery who-dunnits. Now we just need Kenneth Branagh’s Hercule Poirot (I’ve honestly been loving the Murder on the Orient Express and Death on the Nile. The fact that Emma Mackey got to display her acting chops beyond Sex Education is GREAT!) to go up against Daniel Craig’s Benoit Blanc and see who is the superior scenery chewing detective with a ridiculous accent.

What? You want more? You're saying that it's not enough to just chat about something I like and that you want a deep discourse about the human condition or something something connection with another being?

Fine. Well, there’s still the second date with Spring that I can ruthlessly dissect for your reading leisure. Stay tuned to the next episode of...

DATE 2.0: The Kyndaris Story.

Yes, I’ve even added a secondary title to it. I hope you’re happy about living vicariously through my relationship failures.

[elysiadjarin]

Day 2: Breeding Kink

Day 2 of Kinktober and… I got carried away with this one. The others are not going to be nearly as long as this one, so you guys are gonna be spoiled with this. I hope you enjoy it! Find my Kinktober Masterlist here.

Warnings: Minors DNI, this is 18+ only content. Some warnings for violence and blood mentioned, though nothing too graphic. PinV sex, unprotected, consensual, nonhuman character, exophilia, slight hint of biting kink

Tags: Dilf!werewolf x reader, exophilia, kinktober

Moonlight Through Colored Leaves

When you’d first moved to the tiny Irish town in the middle of nowhere, you’d originally hoped to escape the family drama that haunted you back in America. Thanks to your grandfather’s Irish immigration, you’d been able to get an Irish citizenship and move relatively easily. So, you’d packed your bags, only told your grandfather where you were going, and boarded the first flight to Ireland you could catch.

You’d quietly made your way to your grandfather’s tiny hometown far out in the countryside, and moved into the long-since abandoned house that had belonged to your ancestors before. Though it had been run down and you’d had to do some major repairs and cleaning, you’d finally made a cozy cottage on the outskirts of the small village-like town.

The town had been quite welcoming and friendly, and you’d quickly found a job working at the local town pub as a waitress. Your boss had been very welcoming, and you’d earned favor from your coworkers and boss for your hard work and quiet, unassuming diligence. The pay was good, and you found yourself growing comfortable in the sleepy town life, meeting your neighbors and getting familiar with the town dynamics.

You’d just gone in for your shift of the day when conversation caught your ear. You put on your waitress apron, pulling your hair up into a ponytail and walking out to the bar to grab your tray.

“Did you hear about the news?” Jaina asked, arms propped on the countertop. “I mean, about that Romanian vamp that landed on Scotland the other day. Word is that he’s headed this way.”

“Well why would it want teh come here?” Sean snorted. “We’re out in teh middle o’ nowhere, Janie, t’ere ain’t not’in’ here t’at it would want.”

“Well didn’t you hear that apparently they’re expecting Agent Blue to be chasing it down with the Dullahan?” Jaina hissed. “Why wouldn’t they come over here?”

You hid your discreet grimace, instead walking out in front of the bar. To your delight and surprise, you found yourself facing a familiar little figure sitting at the bar in a corner. The little girl caught sight of you and squealed, waving.

You went over to her giving her a hug. “Well hello there, Miss Morrigan,” you greeted cheerfully. “How are you this fine evening? Having a drink?” you teased, noticing the glass of juice near her notebook.

She giggled, nodding. “Yeah! I’m with Daddy today,” she answered, feet kicking against the bar. She turned her head to see the bartender approaching. “Daddy!” she said excitedly. “Look, it’s the nice neighbor lady I told you about!”

You looked up to see Lysander Sullivan standing there, polishing a glass with a cloth. He gazed down at his daughter with a fond look deep in his eyes, then turned to look at you, his ice blue eyes meeting yours.

“Is that so?” he asked, his deep voice a low rumble in the relatively quiet bar. It hadn’t gotten to heavy traffic times, so there weren’t many people around yet. His grey-flecked hair had been swept back into an elastic band, and his beard had been neatly trimmed.

You gave him a small, shy smile, a little embarrassed. Though you knew that the man lived next to your property, you’d been a bit timid about approaching him. He was a kind enough gentleman from everything you’d seen and heard, and he’d watched out for you as you worked, but you didn’t see any reason why he’d be interested in any further contact with you. After all, you were a younger woman in your mid-twenties that lived alone.

“Yeah! She helps me with homework sometimes,” Morrigan prattled on, “and she lets me water her flowers!”

You laughed a little, feeling the color splash across your cheeks. “Well, I certainly enjoy the little Queen’s company,” you admitted. You’d heard some of the other workers gossip about Lysander, saying that he was a single father to nine-year-old Morrigan and that her mother had died in a tragic accident. You didn’t really know, and you’d tried not to pry or overhear too much. The man had a right to privacy, just like you had things you were running from as well.

“Thank you for looking out for the little cub,” Lysander said, a small smile crossing his face. He mellowed out around his daughter, his love clear in how he interacted with her.

“Of course. It’s a delight,” you said, smiling at Morrigan. “She’s a smart little cookie, aren’t you, Queenie?” you asked, tugging at her pigtail teasingly.

She giggled. “Yeah!” Then she tilted her head at you. “Are you working with Daddy tonight?” she asked curiously.

“O-oh, well, sort of,” you stammered, taken aback a little. “He works behind the counter, but I serve people out there,” you said, motioning to the tables. “So I guess we do, in a way.”

Morrigan nodded sagely. “Ohhh, so you do the food and Daddy does the drinks.” She nodded, satisfied at her conclusion. “Oh, I’m making a drawing! I want you to see it later, when I’m finished,” she said, tugging at your sleeve.

You smiled. “Of course, Queenie. You just let me know and I’ll pop by when I have a moment, alright?” you promised.

She nodded, turning back to her notebook and picking up her crayons again. Tongue poked out, she diligently returned to her masterpiece. You gave her a fond smile, noting the way the soft lights made a halo in her blonde hair.

“She’s such an angel,” you murmured, grabbing some straws from the bar to stick into your pocket.

“Aye, that she is.” Lysander’s comment almost startled you. He glanced at you across the bar, the sleeves of his crisp maroon button-up rolled halfway up his arms. “I apologize for not bein’ a better neighbor,” he remarked.

You blinked, then reached up to brush a piece of hair behind your ear. “Oh, no— not at all,” you blurted, then gave him a chagrined smile. “I’m the one who should be apologizing. I’d met Morrigan when she was coming back from school, since I was in the front yard. She just… hopped on over, so I said hi. Honestly I should have introduced myself better, but…” You bit your lip. “I just kept putting it off because I didn’t want to bother you…”

He blinked, then chuckled slightly, as though surprised. “An’ here I thought it was ��cause you didn’t really like me for some reason,” he said, amusement laced in his tone.

You gave him a horrified look. “Oh! Not at all!” You shook your head with a sigh, tugging mournfully at your ponytail. “I’m… notoriously bad at meeting people for the first time,” you groaned. “I just get nervous and tongue tied and I don’t know how to interact and… ugh.” You winced. “I am sorry, Mr. Sullivan. I should be a better neighbor, especially since I somehow got to know your daughter.” You half-laughed at yourself.

He waved you off. “I’m just glad you get along with Mor,” he chuckled. “She speaks endlessly about you. Seems like you’ve impressed her.”

You looked up at him, genuinely surprised. “Really?” you wondered, glancing at the girl. Then you smiled. “Well, I’m flattered. She’s such a smart, curious girl. I’m rather honored that she’d find me interesting.” You breathed a laugh, then glanced up at him. “I should get to my station, but… if you don’t mind, would it be alright if I swung by tomorrow to say hi and properly introduce myself?”

He nodded calmly. “Of course. She gets back home from school at three, if you wanted to catch her as well.”

You nodded, propping the tray on your hip. “Thank you! I’ll do that. If you’ll excuse me, I’ll stop procrastinating and actually start working,” you laughed, and walked off with a wave.

The night progressed relatively smoothly, customers rotating in and out with regulars stopping by. The crowds ebbed and flowed, sometimes more rowdy and sometimes more calm. Still, you enjoyed the atmosphere and the liveliness of it all. Despite it being a pub, and an Irish one at that, the town was small and most people knew everyone else. Plus, Lysander was the bartender for more than one reason. Everyone knew that making trouble of any sort was not tolerated and had force to back it up.

You occasionally popped by Morrigan’s place at the bar, either to have a chat or to admire the progress she’d made on her drawing. And throughout the night, your worries started to mount the more gossip you heard around the pub. Some of them had heard confirmation that the Romanian vampire gone mad was making a beeline for Ireland, though no one seemed to know why. There were even more rumors that Agent Blue, the famous Will-o-the-Wisp, was after the rampaging Pricoli. And still others said that the Scott Pack would be making a reappearance.

Once you’d finished your shift and helped close up shop, you started the trudge back to your cottage down the road. It wasn’t a far walk, really, and it gave you some time to think and clear your head from the smells of the pub. Reaching up, you pulled your hair free from the ponytail and sighed, shoulders slumping.

You’d come to Ireland to escape your problems, but it felt like they were all closing in on you as the days went by. As you got home and got ready for bed, you wondered if it was asking too much to hope for some peace.

Instead, you distracted yourself by trying to think of something to make for the Sullivans the next day. You didn’t want to go empty handed, after all. Maybe some bread-?

You fell asleep thinking about it.

~

You’d just lifted your hand to knock when the door flung open. Morrigan practically tackled you, wrapping her arms around your waist with a shriek of greeting.

Laughing, you balanced yourself and wrapped an arm around her. “Well hello, Queenie,” you greeted. “It’s wonderful to see you.”

She grabbed your hand and dragged you in, chattering happily about her day at school. “Oh, and you should have heard how everyone laughed!” She interrupted herself as she led you into the kitchen. “Daddy, she’s here!” she called.

Trying to balance the homemade sourdough in one hand while still holding Morrigan’s with the other, you looked up to give Lysander a helpless smile. “Hello, Mr. Sullivan,” you greeted, a little breathlessly.

He raised an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth twitching up in amusement. “Well hallo, Miss,” he greeted back, wiping his hands with a towel. “Mor, why don’t you let her set the plate down before anything drops,” he said, shaking his head.

Morrigan let go of your hand, bouncing up and down. “Ooh, what is it?”

You offered it to Lysander, a little flustered. “I… well, I didn’t really want to come without an offering, so… I made some homemade sourdough,” you offered, a little awkwardly. “I hope you like it, it’s a fresh batch, still warm.”

He took it from you with a nod. “Thank you. We love sourdough, don’t we, Mor?” He seemed far more comfortable in his own home, less stoic and stern than in the pub.

Morrigan nodded, throwing up her hands with a cheer. “Yeah!” She danced around. “I love bread!” Then she grabbed your hand again. “Oh, oh, you gotta come see my room! Daddy just made me a new desk, and it’s really nice and shiny!”

Lysander waved you off as you turned to him. “Go ahead. Oh, I was going to invite you to dinner,” he added. “If you’d like. The food is almost done, actually. Your bread will be a perfect addition.”

You smiled. “I’d be honored. Thank you.” Then you let Morrigan drag you away.

By the time Lysander called for you both, you’d been given the official tour of her room and had happily listened to her tell stories of what she’d done at school and the projects she planned to do in the coming days. The little girl always cheered you up with her bright and cheerful presence. If anything, it eased your heart to see the little girl clearly so healthy and happy with her Father. She openly adored him, quite the Daddy’s girl.

As the three of you sat down at the table, you realized with a slight start that you’d never felt so comfortable in Ireland as you did in this moment. It felt… right, like you’d finally come home.

“Thank you for the food,” you said, giving Lysander a grateful smile. “It looks amazing.” The soup simmered in the bowls, while the sourdough bread had been cut into slices and set by the butter.

He nodded. “Thank you for the bread.” He passed the steamed potatoes, and everyone dug into the meal.

You let out a soft hum of contentment as you ate, enjoying the rich flavors and the homey comfort food. Clearly Lysander was a good cook, and you almost envied Morrigan for being able to come home to this every night. Not that you weren’t a good cook yourself, but you supposed company really did make a difference.

“The bread is so good!” Morrigan chirped, taking a giant bite of the bread slathered in butter.

You laughed softly. “I’m glad, Queenie. Take it slow,” you warned, worried she’d choke. “The bread isn’t going anywhere.”

She nodded, scarfing down her food. “Oh, oh, Daddy, cartoons are on soon! Can I please go watch? I did all my homework!”

Lysander nodded. “Alright. Go take your dishes to the sink.”

“Thank you! Morrigan cheered, sliding down from her chair and carefully taking the dishes. She trotted to the kitchen, then got herself a glass of juice and went to go to the living room.

You realized with a slight start that this was the first time you’d been alone with Lysander. Looking down at your spoonful, you wondered if you should maybe ask him the questions that pressed on your mind. Perhaps he would know. Then again… it’s not as though he were related to your grandfather’s clan… and not to mention, most of the people in the town didn’t even know that you were aware of the nonhuman community. In fact, you were rather positive that your coworkers thought you didn’t.

“If I may ask, what brought you to this small town?” Lysander asked, his voice calm and mellow. His blue eyes glanced up at you, and the question died on your tongue.

“Oh… family history, actually,” you admitted with a smile. “And, well…” You shrugged lightly. “I needed to get away for a while. I wanted a fresh start, somewhere where people didn’t really know me.”

“Understandable.” He nodded. “I essentially did the same with Morrigan when we moved here a few years ago.”

You hummed, reaching for a piece of bread. He handed you the butter, and you gently grasped the sleeve of his flannel for a moment. “You’ve got a bit on your clothes,” you said, wiping the smeared butter off with a napkin. You’d just let go when your fingers brushed across his briefly as you took the butter. You didn’t notice the way he froze, his movements jerky as he pulled his hand back.

“Thank you.” He cleared his throat. “Do you— I mean, does any of your family still live here?”

You shook your head. “Not exactly. But technically, my extended family is here. My grandfather immigrated from Ireland to America, where I was born, but through marriage there are still people here I’m technically connected to.” You shrugged. “I haven’t really gotten in contact with them, though. They probably don’t know me that well,” you laughed with a rueful shrug. You glanced at him for a moment. “I bet it’s even harder when you have children.”

He glanced toward the living room, where the faint sound of the cartoons floated through the house. “Well, I suppose,” he admitted thoughtfully. “Still, I wouldn’t trade it for anything. She’s my life, really.”

You lowered your eyes to your plate, unable to deny how your chest tightened at the way his voice softened when he spoke of his daughter. You’d always tried to forget how much you’d been attracted to the older man. You’d only ever dated once, and while he’d been nice enough and it had ended cordially, you still hadn’t been able to forget the lingering feeling of disappointment you’d had from the experience. You’d known, after that, that it would either be a long time before you ever tried dating again or it would have to be to someone whose maturity at least matched yours. And, unfortunately for you, that tended to mostly apply to men past their forties.

You really did try to forget how Lysander ticked all the boxes.

“I can see why.” You smiled. “She’s really precious.” Your eyes slid toward the living room. “Does she… inherit from you?”

Lysander looked up, his gaze suddenly piercing as he stared at you openly.

You gave him a faint smile. “I don’t talk much about it, but my grandfather comes from the local O’Connor Faoladh Tribe,” you said calmly, taking another sip of the soup.

His shoulders relaxed, the hard edge in his expression melting away. “Ah. Yes, she does. But she hasn’t fully shifted yet. It will be another year, we think. Are you-?”

You shook your head. “Oh, no. It’s funny, really,” you said thoughtfully, motioning with your spoon. “My grandfather is Faoladh, and my mother’s side of the family is a lycanthrope pack.” Your lips twitched. “And somehow, I got the recessive genes and ended up a simple Seer.”

His eyebrow raised. “Not so simple, I’d think,” he remarked. “Aren’t Seers rather uncommon now?”

You shrugged. “For a reason. There’s plenty of potential but not many who actively practice anymore. The price is heavy for knowledge like that.”

He gave you a discerning look. “Is that what you’re running from?”

Your silver spoon clinked softly as you set it down on the edge of the plate. “I suppose you could say that,” you murmured. Your eyes closed as you shoved away the memories of distant screaming, the crackle of fire, crimson splashed across stone floors— “Or maybe toward something.” After all, you mused, there had been a reason you’d felt drawn to your grandfather’s homeland, and town in particular. And of course, you’d never been one to fight Fate too hard.

“Perhaps so,” he conceded. Then he stood. “May I take your plate?”

“Oh— please, let me help.” You stood, taking your dishes and starting towards the kitchen. “At least let me wash or dry.”

When you finally got back home, you sat down on the couch and buried your face into your hands. Seeing Morrigan and Lysander together had stirred up old memories you’d long since tried to forget. Old desires that you’d thought you’d given up on: hopes and dreams of a family to call your own.

You crawled into bed, everything inside you aching. After all, what could a Seer with a cursed fate possibly offer anyone?

~

The night the Dullahan rode into town, you’d just started closing up the pub on night shift duty.

They’d ridden in, followed by the famous Agent Blue clad in his dark robes and carrying his lantern over his shoulder. He strode in the door, followed by the Dullahan. At first, you hadn’t even noticed the other figure trailing behind them.

Your Boss, Dorian, had walked out of the back room to greet them. He, of everyone in the town, was the only one to know of your heritage, as the elected leader of the supernatural community in the town. He nodded to the group as they entered.

“Welcome, Dullahan, Agent Blue.” He nodded at them, shaking the Will-o-the-Wisp’s hand.

“Greetings in return, Chief Dorian,” Agent Blue replied, his face still covered by the hood. “Apologies for the intrusion. I’m sure you’ve heard of the Pricoli that’s been running amok all over the Isles.”

Dorian nodded. “We certainly have. I assume you’ve come on a hunt.”

“We have. And I’ve brought someone with me.” Agent Blue turned, motioning towards the back of the group.

You’d been distracted, still working on trying to finish clearing up and getting out of the way. If your boss had asked, you were ready to offer to serve the new guests as well, giving Lysander a glance that he returned with a small nod.

It wasn’t until you straightened and turned around, finished, that you heard a familiar, startled voice call your name. Turning, you looked up and saw, to your shock, a very familiar face staring at you. You froze as the figure lunged forward, wrapping you in a tight hug. After a moment, you awkwardly hugged him back, mind whirling.

“What are you doing here?” Your younger brother stared at you incredulously, holding your arms. “I didn’t even know you left home! Last I heard you were still there.”

You grasped his sleeves, disoriented. “O-Oh. Ray,” you gasped, processing. “I—“ You suppressed a flinch. “I just… moved into grandfather’s old cottage,” you stammered, then looked down. “I had to get away,” you said quietly. “It was too much.”

Of all your family, you knew that Ray would best understand. He’d been the only one to really stand up for you back home, try to support you as best as he could, being a younger sibling. When everyone else constantly reminded you of your Fate, your Destiny, Ray had been the only one who had encouraged your personal hopes and dreams, had listened to your fears and worries.

He sighed. “I mean, I can’t blame you,” he said, shaking his head. “Still… does anyone know?”

You scoffed slightly, turning your head away. “Only Grandfather ever cared about me besides you, Ray. There’s no one else who probably even asked.” You shrugged. “How is school?” You’d been the one to support him when he decided to move to Scotland to attend University. He, too, had wanted to escape home.

He grinned. “Pretty great, actually!” Then he glanced behind him. “Turns out my best mate is actually one of Agent Blue’s sons, so when the whole Pricoli thing went down, I offered to be his in to the Faoladh Tribe here. For formality, y’know.” He shrugged. “I remembered what Grandfather had always taught us about how picky Faoladh are about tradition.”

You nodded. “Yeah…” You huffed slightly. “Technically only the people in here right now even know that I’m a part of the supernatural community,” you said dryly.

He raised an eyebrow. “That’s some dedication to keep it quiet. How has the local gossip train not found you out yet?”

You snorted. “Maybe because I’ve always been quiet and kept my mouth shut.” You rolled your eyes at him, though a smile twitched on your lips. “And we both know who never can.”

He playfully cuffed your shoulder. Then he grinned. “Oh, but guess what?” His eyes sparkled. “I found my Mate!”

Your eyes widened. “Really?” Your heart lightened for him, happy that your younger brother had finally found his Mate. “Does she know yet?”

He shook his head, face falling a little. Well, not yet. I mean, I’ve kinda only just met her and all, so… and it’s kinda awkward, cause…” He winced. “Well, she’s my best mate’s younger sister.”

You gave him an incredulous look, then sighed, shaking your head. “Well, good luck with that one, Ray,” you snorted. “You’ve gotten yourself into quite the situation with that one.”

He shrugged. “I know, but…” His grin turned goofy. “She’s so pretty. You should see her. She’s even pretty sassy, kinda like you are with me.”

You laughed softly, patting his arm. “Well, I’m glad I was able to catch up with you. If you need a place to stay, you know my house is always open to you.”

He nodded. “Thanks, sis. I should probably head back. I don’t know what else they might want me for.” He paused, then gave you an odd look. “Have you… found anyone?”

You blinked at him, startled. “What? Ray, you know what my Fate says.” You frowned.

An odd expression crossed his face, then he shook his head. “Yeah, I know. Just… don’t forget the promise you made me.”

You sighed. “I won’t, Ray.” As if you ever could, you thought with a hint of bitterness. He wouldn’t let you.

He squeezed your hand, slipping a piece of paper into your grasp. “Text me. I wanna keep in touch.”

You nodded, pocketing the note. “Thanks. Good luck, Ray. Stay safe.”

He nodded, then jogged back to Agent Blue with a wave. You were left to stand there, your heart sinking with every step he took away from you. Everything was lining up far too well. Though you’d vainly hoped to escape from the Fate that had hung over your head for so long, it seemed as though you’d just walked right into it instead.

Turning back to the bar, you quietly packed up your things. Bidding Lysander goodnight, you checked to make sure Dorian didn’t need you and headed back for home.

It was only a matter of time.

~

Rain splattered against the ground, heavy and thick like a curtain. Shielding your eyes from the drops, you pushed yourself to run, faster, as fast as you could. There was no time left to think.

The vision you’d had kneeling under the large Fae Maypole tree you’d found in the forest nearby kept flashing through your mind, insistent and horrific. Your Fate loomed, past and future meshing into the present in ways you could hardly stand. You’d thought you’d been running, cowardly but maybe safe from the Sword of Damocles—but now here you were, fallen headlong into the trap of the Fate you’d known since childhood would claim your life.

And yet your feet would not stop running, pushing you forward without hesitation. Was this not worth it? Was this Fate—this Fate that you’d feared for so long, hated and loathed and tried in futility to escape—was it truly so horrendous? Now that you were here? In this moment of truth?

You barreled up the steps, slamming your shoulder against the door without a pause. It broke, sending you headlong across the threshold to skid across the carpet. Ignoring the burn on your arm, you looked up as you heard a scream. Morrigan’s face stared at you, sheet white as she curled up in fear by the foot of the couch.

Jacking yourself up, you didn’t take time to glance behind you. “Mor, into the safe room,” you gasped, “your Daddy sent me, okay? I need you to get in the safe room, now.”

She nodded shakily, bravely scrambling to her feet and running towards the safe room that Lysander had made for her. Nothing would get through the doors, you knew, once they locked. You waited until you heard the lock click, then turned and scrambled back out the busted door.

In the empty area between your houses, out on the outskirts of the town, everything seemed oddly distant yet crystal clear. Your memories nudged at you, whispering about the deja vu that filled your every pore at the sight of the green, rolling grass and the relentless rain that poured over everything. In the distance, the red glare of a fire fueled by gas and undaunted by rain began to dominate the color of the sky.

It didn’t surprise you when cold fingers wrapped around your throat, leaving mottled bruises to bloom against your skin. You stood still, knowing that any movement might crush your throat. You may have been Fated to die, but not until you’d finished your task.

The enraged Pricoli snarled, hissing in your ear. “I know he sent you to hide her,” he sneered. “You helpless, pitiful Seer. For all your preeminence, did you not find a way to best me?” he barked a laugh, maniacal and loud. “You useless Seers and your cursed fates—and for what? A single moment of ruined glory?”

Your breath shallowed, airflow restricted. Agent Blue, several Dullahan, your brother, Dorian, and Lysander all emerged from the tree line, pausing as they saw you being held hostage. You closed your eyes for a moment as the icy hands constricted around your throat even further.

“Tell me where she is, and you get to live, Seer,” he snarled, his face nearing your ear. “She is my perfect match, my BloodSong. She is fated to be mine, my apprentice!” he howled. “Give her to me, my right!” His nails started to lengthen, turning into claws, digging against your skin. “Or I’ll drink you dry first and use you as fuel to take these maggots down.”

You brother’s face had gone ashen in horror, staring at you as though trying to deny his own eyes. His face twisted in despair.

“I’ll never give her up to you,” you answered, aware that everyone could hear you despite the rain. You tilted your head up, letting the rain wash over your face. “I am a Seer,” you declared, loudly, proud of it for the first time in your life. “And I embrace the Curse of my Fate. I pay the price gladly, if it means the power to make sure you never lay a finger on her.”

The Pricoli snarled, the rage almost audibly warping his voice into something demonic. “Then meet your Fate, Seer.”

Your knees gave out the moment his fangs ripped into your jugular. Strangely enough, the pain wasn’t even that bad, you mused hazily. Your eyes—were they blurred by tears or the rain?—rolled up to see your brother, mouth open as he reached for you. Even Lysander, white fur matted and soaked, had his maw open as his snout pointed to the sky.

Distantly, you could hear screaming. A roar, loud, tumbling through your chest, rattling into the ground. The crackling of fire. Everything started to get.. so… cold. Vaguely, as the hand shoved you forward and you landed against the ground, you could see out of the corner of your eye the Pricoli hunch forward. Despite the pain, the numbness… your lips curled in a vindictive smile.

The crimson eyes turned to you, a horrified anger sweeping through them as they landed on your twisted grin. A cold hand went up to his throat, and the Pricoli started to choke. His body lurched, tongue lolling as he gagged on your blood, his veins starting to light from the inside out with a toxic green. Slowly, agonizingly, he fell to his knees, his face contorted in a paroxysm of agony as he choked on your blood, your concentrated inherent magic tearing him apart from the inside out.

Your limbs felt sluggish as you forced yourself up, your ears ringing. Reaching up, you pressed your hand to your ruined neck and staggered to your feet, starting to lurch away from the destroyed corpse of the Pricoli. Warmth smeared across your skin, and every breath sent needles raking down your throat and into your lungs. Your feet stumbled, and before you realized it, you were leaning against something broad and firm.

Two icy blue eyes stared down at you, claws wrapping around your arms. Strangely enough, though, you didn’t fear that grasp. Lysander’s maw moved, you noticed faintly, but all you could hear was the persistent ringing in your ears. Vaguely, you reached up, your fingers clumsily landing on the side of his snout. Red smeared his fur, and your arm dropped down numbly to your side.

With the last of your strength, you forced your mouth to form the words that your shattered throat couldn’t say. Tell her goodbye.

The world spun into crimson.

~

Shivering, you shook your head as you curled into the corner that you’d pressed yourself into. Tears burned behind your eyes, and you heard your breath start to rasp and wheeze, rattling your throat.

Your brother’s face crumpled as he stared at you. “Please,” he begged, his voice wavering. “You need to drink.”

Agent Blue rested his hand on Ray’s shoulder. “Take it easy, son,” he said, voice firm but compassionate. “She’s understandably frightened. Even though she’s successfully gone through the change to being a damphyr, she’s had quite the scare and probably doesn’t want to feed.”

“But she needs to!” Ray exclaimed, frustration lacing his voice. “She’s already hurting.”

It was driving you insane. The pure power of the Will-o-the-Wisp’s blood was calling to you like a tempting beacon, and your brother’s hot blood practically screamed at you. The thirst flared in your throat, an ache so powerful you wanted to gag. It was like sandpaper. But you didn’t want to feed from them. You didn’t want to risk losing control, didn’t want to didn’t want to didn’t want to—

“I’ll take care of her.” Lysander stepped into the room. He turned to Ray. “She gave her life to save my daughter. This is the least I can do. I promise she’ll be in good hands.”

Your brother paused, then sighed, shoulders slumping. “I know you will, Sir,” he said, defeated. “I just…” He glanced over at you, eyes reflecting his misery.

Lysander reached out, squeezing Ray’s shoulder. “I understand,” he said quietly.

Ray nodded, then approached you again carefully. “Hey.” His voice softened. “I know you probably don’t want me around. But you have my number. Please, just… contact me when you’re ready, ok? You know I’ll be here for you, like I always have been. I’m gonna go back to Scotland, but you know how to reach me if you need anything. I won’t tell any of the family that you’re here.”

Swallowing back the drool, you tentatively reached out and barely ghosted your fingers against his cheek, hoping your eyes would convey your thanks. You just… needed space. Away from him, to control yourself, get yourself together.

But his expression turned a little more hopeful, and he nodded. “Love you, sis,” he said quietly. “Please… live.” With a small smile, he stood and followed Agent Blue out of the room.

With a quiet whine, you squeezed your eyes shut and tried to push past the unbearable, insistent pain scratching down your throat. Your throat roared for a drink. Your eyes snapped open when you heard Lysander approach. Though you didn’t know why, his presence always sent you into an absolute panic, though not of fear. Your thirst around him seemed to impossibly skyrocket. Like something about him drove you crazy.

He knelt, his blue eyes fixed on yours. He reached out slowly, giving you a chance to move away. Instead, your body froze, entirely fixating on the way his plaid shirtsleeve pulled tight around his arm, rolled up to his elbow. You swallowed thickly, his blood an absolute siren call. You could smell it, practically taste it. Dripping down your throat, into your veins, ambrosia sweet and thick— Drool slipped down the corner of your mouth, past the pressure of fangs against your lips.

Lysander’s eyes strained. “I know what it does to you,” he said quietly. “Just the fact that you’re not lunging for me right now is…” He sighed, his other hand raking through his hair. “I don’t know if I’m impressed or-��� His lips twisted as he cut himself off, as though conflicted. “There’s a reason why my blood calls to you.” He settled himself in front of you, making you want to scream as both relief and a frenzy of want roared through you.

“Of course, Mor is my daughter,” Lysander said, his voice low as he looked down at the floor between you. “But her Mother was… not my true Mate.” He sighed. “I didn’t really care, because I loved her. But she… well, she left me. Didn’t want Mor, didn’t want… me.” A self-depreciating smile passed across his face. “But it was okay, I had Mor and I only wanted the best for her. But still… somewhere inside me, I knew that my true Mate was out there somewhere.”

You almost couldn’t focus, his proximity almost painful because he was too far, and yet not close enough—

“And then you appeared, and Mor started to love you, and I—“ He sighed, hand reaching up to cover his face. “And I didn’t know if I wanted to run or stay.” His shoulders slumped. “Seeing you with Mor, working with you, talking with you… every moment I spend with you near is like agony, but when you leave it’s like you take a part of me with you and I can’t breathe.”

Abruptly, your mouth went dry, shocked almost clear out of bloodlust. Wait, was he saying-?

“I told myself that you’d be better off without me,” Lysander admitted, voice thick. “I’m… not young any more. You’re beautiful and— and you have so much more promise, a whole life ahead of you… I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable. I’d gone for so long without my true Mate, I thought I’d be fine. But when I saw you lying on the ground…” He turned his face away, jaw ticking, a wild, feral light in his eyes. A low snarl rumbled through his chest, dissolving into a whine he quickly cut off.

He looked back up at you. “I’m not telling you this to make you feel… obligated to do anything. But you deserve to know the reason why my blood calls to you so strongly, and why— why I want you to drink from me. Why I don’t mind.”

Your mind whirled. The permission. The heady scent of his blood. The warmth he promised. The realization that he was calling you his true Mate. The way he looked at you, like you were the only thing he’d ever wanted.

Reaching up, you clapped your hand over your mouth with a half-sob of desperation. You wanted it. You practically ached for it, the kindness and love he offered. The promise of a family, a home, someone who had seen you at your worst and still somehow wanted you.

“Please,” Lysander rasped, his eyes laced with that same desperation roiling in his gut. “You don’t even have to accept me as a Mate. But you need to feed, and I—“

You were at your limit. You’d already taxed yourself as a newborn damphyr somehow trying to resist the frenzy of the first feed, and now that your Mate was in front of you, offering freely, practically begging you to feed from him, you could only take so much.

You lunged, a snarl dying on your lips as you lunged forward, the strength of your desperation actually knocking the seasoned werewolf down onto the floor. And still, even as you straddled his waist, your fingers curled around his shoulder, eyes fixed on the tempting expanse of his neck… you still tried to fight. Still tried to fight it, to control yourself.

But Lysander’s broad, warm hands gently wrapped around your waist, not fighting or pushing you off. The scar slashing across the left side of his face seemed to glow in the light streaming through the curtained window, and he gave you a smile.

“It’s okay,” he said, voice low and soothing. “I can handle it. I know you won’t hurt me.”

You shuddered, drool dripping down your fangs. Leaning forward slowly, you tried to keep yourself paced, tried to force yourself to some modicum of control. Mouth opening, you lowered your head until your fangs just barely grazed the crook of his neck and shoulder, not too close to his jugular but just enough.

The moment your fangs sank into his throat, Lysander’s fingers went weak around your waist. A deep groan pooled into the air, and a tremor ran through his body underneath you.

Heat pooled in your stomach, even as his blood slid down your throat with a satisfaction unparalleled. He tasted sweet and dusky, like fresh bread and sunshine, and freshly-cut grass after the rain. The pure heat and warmth he radiated soaked into you, and you felt the bloodlust slowly slake as you drank. Finally, you forced yourself to let go, vaguely aware with your instincts that you’d taken enough to not hurt him but probably still leave him a bit lightheaded for a moment.

The bite wound almost instantly healed over, and his grasp on your waist tightened again, fingers flexing as he regained his bearings.

You leaned your head against his chest, the gratitude and shame warring inside you. Grateful that he’d been so kind, so understanding and gentle. Ashamed of your own arousal, the way your entire being reacted to him.

Your name slipped from his lips, and a moment later his face pressed into your hair. His voice ached with the same torn desire that roiled through you. “I shouldn’t—“ He sucked in a sharp breath as you pressed your body flush against his. You could feel how tight his pants were, could feel the lines of his bulge pressed up against your thigh. A choked groan accompanied the way his hands spasmed around your waist.

“Mate.” The whisper slid from your mouth, the first thing you’d said aloud since your change. Your fingers clenched in his flannel shirt. “Mate… wants me?” Your voice cracked with your fear. Fear that he wouldn’t want to deal with you after all, that you weren’t worth it—

He pulled you closer to him, hand sliding to your hair. “So damn much, sweetheart,” he rasped, cradling your head to his shoulder. “You’re so goddamn beautiful and fierce— I don’t care if you’re human, Seer, damphyr. You’re my true Mate, my love.”

And you buried your face into his shoulder and let yourself shed a few tears of relief. He wanted you. Accepted you, in spite of everything.

“I know it’s not fair to ask you to stay,” his voice strained. “You gave your life for Morrigan, and I’m so much older—“

You reached up, your hands sliding up to cup his jaw as you slanted your lips over his, tears slipping down your cheeks. His mouth opened, kissing you back with a fervor as he splayed his hand over your lower back, pressing you into him. He let out a low growl, the sound rumbling through his chest and straight into your body. Your entire body flushed, and you let out a quiet whimper.

Almost before you could register it, he flipped you over onto the floor, hovering over you. His teeth bared, and he stared down at you with a heat in his eyes that scorched through you. His hands clenched around your waist, pulling your hips flush against his.

You whimpered, tilting your head to the side and exposing your throat to him, sprawled against the floor. Your chest heaved with breath, and a moment later his teeth closed gently on the arch of your neck. A soft breathy moan escaped your lips, eyes fluttering closed as his scent washed over you, his mouth marking your neck, replacing the memory of the Pricoli’s fingerprints mottled against your skin.

With an effort, Lysander wrenched himself away, though he half rutted against you. “Darling, I’m going to need you to tell me if you don’t want this,” he rasped, voice thick and half a snarl already.

“Lysander,” you whispered, lips caressing his name.

His hips stuttered, and he pulled you up against him before heaving himself up and staggering to the bed. He lowered you onto the bed, wasting no time before he practically yanked you to him, his hands hot and greedy. He kissed you, somehow still gentle and yet needy enough to take your breath away.

“May I?” He tapped your shirt.

You nodded shyly, letting him slide it off of you. You lifted your hips in an invitation, and he lowered his mouth to your neck as he slipped your shorts off. He groaned, hands sliding across your bared skin. His skin felt so hot to the touch against your chilled body, wholly satisfying. You practically melted into his hands like putty, malleable to however he touched you, moved you. He made you feel safe. Loved. Cherished. Wanted.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, voice hoarse. “So beautiful, leannen.” The Gaelic spilled naturally from his mouth as he slid his hands under your back, unhooking your bra. You let him slide it off, too desperate for the warmth of his hands to process embarrassment. His hands cupped your breasts, callouses rasping across your nipples in a way that left your breathless and aching.

You whimpered, a little encouraged by the way you felt his bulge throb against you at the sound. Fingers tangling in his shirt, you tilted your head for air, arching into his hands.

“Fuck,” Lysander hissed against your jaw, his hips rolling into you. His hands slid lower, and his thumbs hooked in your underwear. “Can I?”

You nodded, fingers clenching against his shoulders as he slid them off. His shirt was already straining at the seams, threatening to rip. At your tug, he took a moment to reach down and practically rip his shirt off, tossing it uncaringly to the side as he opened his mouth against your neck.

You were already dripping, just his touch and scent enough to arouse you. Breath hissed through his teeth as his fingers dragged through your slick, just barely brushing past your clit. A whine escaped your lips as you shivered, fingers slipping against his chest.

“You smell so good,” Lysander groaned, one finger slipping into you as his thumb rubbed circles around your clit. “Fuck, sweetheart, you’re wet. Can I take care of you?” he rumbled, teeth nipping at your ear. “You already gorged yourself on my blood. How about I fill you up with something else?”

You flushed, fangs sinking into your lower lip. “Please?” you whispered.

His ice blue eyes flashed, and his chest heaved under your hands. “Oh, are we a little desperate?” He smirked, sliding another finger into you, stretching you. “Want me to pull your legs up on my shoulders and keep you here all night?” He chuckled, feeling you pulse around his fingers. “Mmmm, I think your gorgeous body is being pretty honest, sweetheart. Well. I aim to please my Mate.”

You only had a moment to wonder when he’d managed to get his pants off. His fingers slid out of you, only for you to feel his cock rest heavily against your entrance. He slid against you, and you could feel a dribble of precum smear across your skin. One hand went to your waist, holding you, while his other found your clit again.

“Is this alright, sweetheart?” he asked, voice low and suddenly soft. “I’m a bit of a stretch. I’ll try to go slow.”

With how wet you were, you sincerely doubted that he would find much of a problem. Still, you swallowed and nodded, grateful for his care and the way he tried, every step of the way, to make sure you were comfortable. Then again, you could already tell he wasn’t lying about how big he was. You could feel him resting against you, throbbing against your thigh. Slowly, he pressed just the tip into you, his breath shuddering.

Your lips parted in a gasp as he stretched you open, sliding into you. Compared to the chill of your body, his cock practically radiated heat. By the time he completely bottomed out, pelvis flush against yours, you’d already come so close to the edge, drool slipping from the corners of your lips. He seemed to completely fill you, pressing up against every spot inside of you until you swore he’d stretched you into his shape.

Lysander slumped over you, his head tucking into the crook of your neck. His entire body shuddered, and his hands clenched around your waist. His chest heaved against yours, muscles flexing as though he were physically holding himself back.

“Thank you.” The shaky whisper pooled against your skin. “For saving her. Giving your life for her. Thank you. For choosing me.”

Your fingers slid into his salt and pepper hair, relishing the stubble against your neck and shoulder. “I love you.” The confession spilled from your lips, quiet in the room.

He shuddered, letting out a low moan. His fingers clenched, just as he pulled you down further onto his cock, pressing up into you. “Fuck, sweetheart,” he rasped. “Say it again.”

“I love you, Lysander,” you repeated obediently, wholly truthful. Your core clenched around him, and he hissed, pulling out to thrust back into you.

“I love you,” he groaned, starting to thrust in a slow but steady rhythm. He reached down, then pulled your legs up around his hips. The new angle made you pulse as he seemed to reach impossibly deeper into you, angling up justenough to hit that one spot inside you that had you gasping and arching.

“You’re so tight,” he growled, picking up the pace. “Feels so good, sweetheart. So good.”

He suddenly reached behind you and grabbed a pillow, then lifted your hips up to prop it under you. Setting you back down, he shifted himself up and pulled your legs up to his shoulders.

A cry left your lips, utterly wrecked and broken. His cock completely filled you, fucking any semblance of coherence out of you, going so deep you swore you could feel it in your stomach. He seemed to know exactly how to read your body, adjusting to every whimper you let out, not giving you a break as he kept pounding into you with devastating precision.

“You feeling good, sweetheart?” he chuckled, the sound raking down your spine. “Is this what you want?” He thumbed your clit, pressing a kiss to your lips. “You gonna give Mor a little sibling? Taking me so well like this, spread open for me?”

The thought of adding more kids to your life, together with Lysander, proved to be the last straw for your poor mind. You came, stars bursting behind your eyelids as you cried out his name and the wave of heat and pleasure washed through your body.

And Lysander just kept fucking you through it, going harder as he pinned you against the sheets under him, not caring that your fingers raked against his shoulders. He bent to kiss you, murmuring your name in a husky voice that just wrecked you even more. He gave you no mercy, his gaze predatory as he stared down at you, soaking in your ruined expression.

“That’s right, sweetheart. Cum for me,” he murmured, coaxing you through your high.

Even when you rode it out, he didn’t slow down or let up the pace. “You gonna make me cum, darling? Can I cum inside you?”

A plea staggered off of your lips, followed by his name. Your jumbled, blissed-out mind wouldn’t allow you to do anything else, barely recalling your own name.

“Fuck— gonna cum, sweetheart— gonna fill you up—“ He let out a moan before his hips slammed into you one last time. He ground against you as he came, his bruising grip not letting you move an inch away from him.

You melted back into the bed, eyes closing as you soaked in the feeling of his seed filling you, pouring into you. Your fingers slid up the back of his neck as you lay there, docile and welcoming to his every move. Even when he’d finally stopped spilling into you, your stomach full and hot, he slumped against you.

His lips slid across your throat, soft and almost reverent, and he pulled you into his body. He murmured soft endearments into your ear, his hands running over you with gentle, loving strokes, soothing you.

“I promise I’ll do my best to protect you, treat you the way you should be,” he promised. “I love you so much, sweetheart.” Then he chuckled, hand running over your stomach. “I wonder if Morrigan will want a brother or a sister. She’s already going to be so excited to call you Mommy.”

You gave him a shy smile, accepting his soft kiss. “Thank you, Lysander,” you whispered. “I love you.”

Perhaps the price of your Fate had been high, you thought, but it had been entirely worth it.

[shadowsinger11]

Inspiration

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Reader

Requested by anon: Could you do a Fred Weasley imagine where he falls in love with Harry’s younger sister. (Maybe a after the war where he lives)

Word Count: 3.3k (my hand slipped oops)

Genre: Fluff, childhood friends to lovers, mutual pining etc.

Warnings: Slight innuendo, Fred being cute and hot simultaneously

Tags: @self-ship-love @susceptible-but-siriusexual @hufflexpuff @neovannii @jenniweasley @elf-punk @heart-of-tempered-steel @itseatyourdamnapples

Message me if you'd like to be added!

Masterlist

Ottery St Catchpole, Devon, England, July 16, 2000

It was a chilly Sunday evening. The summer air buzzed with excitement and the tender aroma of magnolia as tiny white and pink petals were gracefully falling from the huge cherry trees, carried by the light breeze. Twilight painted the horizon in liquid gold and fiery red, soon followed by mellow shades of dark blue that brought countless sparkling stars.

It was getting the slightest bit colder, but it did not matter; nothing else mattered but the loud cheers and cheerful music, celebrating the official bond between a Potter and a Weasley under the wide night sky.

You couldn't have been happier for your older brother, Harry, who was currently dancing with Ginny, his now wife - now and for the rest of his, hopefully, but not really likely, peaceful life. For the longest time you've been wondering how he'd always manage to get into trouble even as a small First year with no experience in the wizarding world whatsoever. Or, perhaps, that was the exact reason as to why evil-battling and rule-breaking were such common practices when hanging out with him.

However, there was no fighting that day. There was no room for worry and fear when the entire Weasley family and their loved ones were gathered on the clearing in front of the Burrow, chatting, laughing, dancing, singing, drinking, celebrating and living for what seemed to be the first time since Lord Voldemort's fall. Danger was practically nonexistent in that blissful moment which was frozen in time, once having looked agonizingly distant and impossible to hope for. But that dream was no longer just a foolish fantasy to heal wounded hearts. It was there, and it was happening in the most beautiful way imaginable.

And suddenly, all those clich��s of a married life weren't even clichés. They were simply humble wishes of people who had witnessed far too many horrors in such a short period of time, and only craved stability among the massive chaos. So when you glanced at Ginny, a twirling blur of flaming red hair and a gorgeous wedding dress, you didn't feel the need to comment on how banal the color white was. You genuinely smiled, admiring the pure, exuberant joy, visible in her eyes and scarlet cheeks. Harry looked just as, if not even happier than his wife, dancing in the ridiculous but wholehearted way that only he could, and old memories of him winning the golden egg, training Dumbledore's Army and kissing Ginny in the common room for the very first time flooded into your mind.

It had truly been a long time since you had seen Harry careless and free like that.

You yourself had spent an ungodly amount of hours preparing the yard for the ceremony all day; rearranging chairs, decorating, making sure everything was going by schedule, only to then dance your tired feet off, and though you wanted to continue having fun with Hermione, Luna and the rest of the girls waiting for you, you really needed a break. And a drink.

Excusing yourself to leave the particularly interesting conversation you were having with distant Weasley relatives, you slipped off your black flats that, despite looking absolutely stunning, hurt your feet terribly after an entire day of fussing over the color of napkins and flower bouquets. Barefoot on the grass, you walked over to a chair next to a table which seemed to have been occupied, but judging by the mostly empty glasses and plates, the guests weren't coming back anytime soon.

You tossed your shoes aside with a sigh and rushed to rub your aching toes, hissing from how sore they were.

How has Ginny been dancing like that for hours?

"Enjoying the party, I see?" a familiar deep, slightly husky voice commented, causing you to look up.

It was none other than Fred Weasley, dear friend from childhood, staring down at you, his ever-present charming smirk resting on features and hands shoved into the pockets of his dragonskin suit. But it was his flaming red hair that made your eyes widen - it was carefully smoothed back, shining under the moonlight like liquid iron.

Fred's eyes still contained their famous, loveable mischief, except now slightly tamer and calmer. His firm biceps had visibly grown in size, stretching out the fabric of his coat just a bit to give you a prominent silhouette that caught you off guard.

It had been two years; he had changed so much.

And you were afraid to admit you had too.

You blinked in surprise, processing his uncharacteristically sophisticated appearance before realizing what he had asked you.

"Would've enjoyed it far more if my legs weren't killing me," you groaned half-heartedly and leaned back on your chair. "What's with your hair?"

"What's with your feet?"

"I asked you first," you cut him off. "I bet Ginny is responsible for this."

"Actually…" Fred trailed off, and, whether on purpose or not, ran a hand through the ginger locks to keep them in place, unaware of how you suddenly wished the hand doing the graceful motion wasn't his. "Mum insisted that I looked my best. What can I say, it's not like George and I usually listen to her, but we thought we'd make an exception this time; our sister doesn't get married every day. But honestly, Ginny couldn't care less about how we looked as long we showed up."

"So like usual, you mean?" you giggled. "Showing up is an achievement for you even if you're underdressed?"

Fred beamed, pearly white smile complementing his formal outfit. You wondered if he used that exact smile to effortlessly allure costumers and business partners at work.

He rested an elbow on the table as he leaned forward.

"Come on now, darling. I know you find my messy hair irresistible either way."

His cockiness only caused you to laugh, though Fred was quick to spot the flash of nervousness in your eyes; it brought him immense pride to know he was the one to turn you from confident to adorably bashful and flustered in the matter of seconds.

He was looking at you intensely, expectantly waiting for you to deny his flirty accusation despite your shyness.

"Nah, Weasley. It only reminds me that even at twenty-two you still do not know how to use a comb."

Fred's eyebrows shot straight up to his hairline, mouth agape. For the first time, he actually needed a second to form a reply.

"Didn't see that coming, I give you that. Courageous one, you are."

Your heart fluttered with joy and you openly grinned, shrugging in half-hearted humbleness.

"Perhaps I am."

Speaking to him felt unusually energizing, as though you had jumped headfirst into a chilly lake. It was unfamiliar and it set your nerves on fire, causing your stomach to twist and turn with sensations that left you dizzy, but unbelievably thrilled. And you wanted more of it, you wanted more of him.

"Fancy a drink?" Fred offered, already pouring champagne into a glass before handing it to you, and you keenly took it.

"Thanks, I've been thirsty with all the preparations I was doing."

"Is that why your legs are killing you?"

"Exactly, I've been running around all day, making sure everything was in order… you know, a lot of organizing and the like."

"It must hurt quite a bit then," Fred commented with a pained grimace. "But I absolutely get you, Georgie and I are just like that when it comes to the shop. It's a lot of accounting if I'm being honest, though I admit he's way better at it. We need to be completely precise; we can't allow any mistakes."

"Woah," you laughed. "Control freak much?"

He wettened his lips, never breaking eye contact.

"Perhaps I am."

You tilted your head to the side, gaze piercing into his in hopes of finding out what those gorgeous brown eyes were hiding. The tiny playful flames in them were eloquent.

Shifting slightly in your seat, you smoothed out your bridesmaid dress and raised your glass, the ghost of a smirk playing on your lips.

"Cheers to us control freaks then."

Fred mirrored your smug expression and your glasses met with a clink. The bubbly liquid tingled your throat, undoubtedly refreshing you and cooling you off. You glanced at the people dancing in the centre of the clearing and giggled - Ginny had apparently thrown away her white shoes long ago, bare feet stepping elegantly on the grass.

"You see, I'd like to chat a bit more with you, but I'm afraid it's a bit too loud here. What about we go to the pond across the field?" Fred suggested, pointing at the woods behind his back. You had visited them countless times when staying with Harry at the Burrow during holidays years ago; the tall trees and the glistening waters had never ceased to bring you comfort.

The noise started to become bothersome, and you felt it even more necessary to continue your conversation somewhere private, the unknown causing butterflies to erupt in your stomach. Fred's presence could only be compared to a shot of whiskey, or the sensation of anticipating a tidal wave to crash into you in less than a second. It was wild and the tiniest bit terrifying, but oh so tempting as it pulled you in.

"I'd love that, but… you know," you grinned and playfully swang your sore feet. "Can't really walk."

But this didn't at all seem like a problem to Fred Weasley who only shrugged and stood up, "You don't have to. I'll carry you."

"Merlin, no! Please, it's not necessary."

Fred frowned, but his confused expression was soon replaced by an amused one.

"You said it yourself that your feet hurt like hell. And even if carrying you around isn't necessary, it doesn't mean I don't want to."

You attempted to tame the butterflies.

"No, no! You seriously don't have to, I promise," you frantically protested as you held up your hands in front of you to reassure him, but he only gave you a weird look. "I can walk on my own. I'll be too heavy for you."

"There's only one way to find out."

Fred walked over to you and leaned down, one hand sneaking around your waist and the other slipping under your knees. You shrieked in terror, arms flying to clutch at his shoulders, and heat rose to your cheeks from the abrupt contact. Your chests were pressed together, and you were afraid he'd be able to feel your racing heart. His skin was warmer than you had thought, and it successfully fought off the night summer chill.

"Are we going?" Fred whispered down at you, lips so close to yours that you recognized the nuance of champagne in his breath, mixing unbelievably well with the scent of cinnamon and sandalwood of his cologne.

Not only is he sinfully attractive, but he smells heavenly too?

"Yes," you breathed and let Fred effortlessly walk across the meadow with you in his arms. They brought this new, odd, yet familiar sense of security, and you allowed your head to rest against his chest, nervous gaze wandering off into the distance in hopes of not meeting his. Nevertheless, curiosity eventually took the best of you, and your eyes would occasionally flicker to his, which were now completely black under the night sky. They could swallow you whole, you swore.

Minutes later, you found yourselves in the company of old, enormous willows which surrounded the pond you so vividly remembered from your teenage years. You thanked Fred as he carefully let you down, and took a few steps forward to look around and drench in the misty moonlight that enveloped the area. The waters were crystal clear and completely still, reflecting the moon and its majestic silver glow. The bushes had grown significantly over the time you were away, and you fondly looked back at the moments when you would pick up colorful wildflowers in the summer before your fourth year.

"Shall we sit?" Fred asked quietly from right behind your shoulder, and you followed him with a nod. You found a comfortable spot on the fresh grass to sit, a few feet away from where the water met the soil and moved back and forth ever so slightly.

"It's more beautiful than I remember," you noted, lips curled up in a barely visible smile. Fred hummed in agreement.

"That's why I always make sure to come here every chance I get when I return. But, unfortunately, that's very rare in my case."

For a moment, there was only the chirping of crickets and the soft bubbling of water.

Fred turned to you.

"Remember when mum used to call for us to de-gnome the garden and we'd hide here? We could stay in the bushes for hours before we eventually came back," he recalled, seeming deep in thought. It was an extraordinary sight; for once the playful spark in his eyes was more mellow, there was no cockiness seeping into the way he was holding himself. He was just Fred, the man who was currently thinking with so much adoration and love about his childhood, the most significant memories of it being marked by you.

You wondered, given you ever had the chance to spend with Fred as much time as your older brother did, if the charismatic prankster would have fallen for you like you had done. You wondered, given the chance you had let Fred get to know you better all those summers ago, if his heart would have belonged to you by now just like yours did to him.

Had you possibly missed your chance?

"Oh, I do," you sighed, the tension in your chest vanishing as warm nostalgia crept in like an old friend. "I also remember when I got this really bad nightmare that night. I was so terrified that you took me on a ride with your broom in the middle of the night to cheer me up."

"That's true! My parents don't know about it to this day," he replied smugly. "I can still hear you screaming like a lunatic."

You jokingly smacked his arm, "I was twelve!"

Fred's grin grew wider.

"Excuses…"

This only caused you to stare at him in disbelief and cross your arms, managing your most serious expression, but Fred was aware you were on the verge of failing to keep your stern facade. He squinted his eyes as a teasing attempt to provoke you, smile threatening to split his face in two.

"Alright then, that's enough about me," you announced, and Fred nodded in mock agreement as he studied your playful pretence. "If you're so much better than me, Mr Darcy, what else do you do aside from stealing ladies away?"

"Stealing their hearts," he said confidently, flashing you a seductive smirk, reserved only for special girls back in your Hogwarts days. You giggled, finding his antic utterly ridiculous, but you hated to admit that it still turned your blood into liquid fire. Fred apparently saw right through you, because when your eyes landed on his, they appeared completely dark once again, but, you suspected, for a reason other than the lack of light.

Your throat went dry, and you found it hard to swallow down the lump that cut your breath short.

He ran a hand through his ginger hair as he began to explain, "I'm kidding, you know. But to answer your question, George and I have been working on this potion that should be able to change the color of the eyes and hair. Fun for those who enjoy experimenting with their appearance, but it can also be useful to the Ministry. They're actually going to send a team of a couple of aurors to visit us next month so we can update them on our progress and negotiate the details."

"Wow! That's certainly exciting!"

"Is it? I mean, it probably is, but I've been having second thoughts lately if I'm being honest." He scratched the back of his neck, and you realised you had only witnessed him being anxious when it came to his greatest passion. "I'm afraid we might not be done on time, there's still plenty left to improve."

You put a hand on his shoulder to get his attention, and said, "I'm sure you'll figure it all out eventually. Keep working as you normally do, try not to stress too much over the deadline, and even if things go wrong at some point, don't go too hard on yourself. It wouldn't take away any progress you've made so far."

Fred's body relaxed just a bit and he looked down at you. He couldn't deny the sense of serenity that he felt only when he was with you. Even as a careless young boy, he was able to pinpoint the way his midriff would clench every time you'd laugh at his jokes or ask him to play with you, without knowing what it all meant.

But now, as a grown man, he had a word to describe the bittersweet fire within.

"You know what?" He tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. "I could really benefit from having someone like you around to give me motivation."

"Motivation, huh?" you raised an eyebrow, fighting back a smile. Fred sneaked a hand around your waist and pulled you closer.

"Yes, motivation."

"Motivation for what?"

"Marketing strategies, work projects…" he shrugged nonchalantly, "...among other things."

You quickly caught on, suddenly becoming way too self-aware of the way you were practically cuddled into Fred's side, hand resting on his shoulder while his were wrapped around your waist. But his shining confidence seemed to rub off on you, because you asked.

"What's with you offering me a job all of a sudden?"

His bottom lip was tucked between his teeth as he took his sweet time devouring you with his darkened gaze. You didn't know whether you wanted to hide from it, or expose yourself even further to the way it burned its way straight to your core.

"Well…" Fred dragged out in his low, hoarse voice, and caressed your cheek with his thumb before slipping it under your chin to guide it towards his face. You could nearly taste the remaining flavour of champagne on his lips. "I've certainly been feeling…"

Fred went quiet as he got lost in the way you fit so perfectly in his arms; you had always meant to be there, he realised. His mouth crashed into yours, hands tightly gripping your waist, and you let out a gasp. Fred's lips were soft, although slightly chapped, and they moved gently but firmly against yours, turning you into their slave. Your palms naturally slid up his chest and he closed any remaining distance between your bodies by placing you to straddle his lap. The kiss was a dance of pushing forward and pulling back, two lovers having finally found their rhythm after years of living in fearful desire. You were positively drunk on his taste, on him, and you wished to never become sober.

When your need for air overcame the one for physical contact, you pulled away. Your chests were heaving with rapid, shallow breaths, hearts beating in synch like they had always done. You let a finger tenderly trace his cheekbone down to his jawline, then it came back up to draw different affectionate patterns on his face.

"What were you saying?" you asked, clearly out of breath. "How were you feeling?"

He fondly took your hand that was caressing his skin, and lifted it up to press feather-light kisses on your knuckles. His lips retraced their path until they reached the tips of your fingers, and he kissed those with the gentlest of touch.

You heart ached pleasurably from the way he was handling you with such care, much more than you ever believed he was capable of.

After minutes of worshipping you by the moonlit lake, Fred looked back at you as though you were his entire world. And replied with a smile.

"Inspired."

Reblogs and feedback are greatly appreciated!

Masterlist

[aminiatureworld]

Needled Words

Characters: Childe, fm!reader

Word Count: 1,691

Warnings: Swearing

Premise: When does a joke go too far, when is a jab more than just friendly? Where does the line blur and where does it stop?

In which Childe’s teasing becomes too much for the reader

Author’s Note: For some reason this prompt made me think of Nancy Mitford, mostly because she was known also for being a slightly mean-spirited teaser. Ah Childe, my beloved. Communication in a relationship is key y’all.

Childe

You knew that Childe was only joking. After all, didn’t he read his letters to you? Brimming with little asides and jokes.

“Dear Tonia, I would say I was happy to get your letter, if only it was sopping wet. Did you leave it out in the snow again? I swear, if you were in the illustrious Tsaritsa’s army, you’d probably end up attacking your own regiment, and then I’d be forced to execute you for treason!” No one could mistake such an opening for anything except a slightly barbed bit of teasing.

Nor were the younger one’s exempt. Teucer’s antics had resulted in quite a bit of teasing. “Teucer, I think the Mr. Cyclopses have better survival instincts” and “I didn’t take you for someone who spent other people’s money!” This latter statement was made after Teucer spied the hand-crafted, very expensive, fireworks that were sold in Liyue. Of course, Childe had bought him the fireworks, and of course he never begrudged doing things for you when he teased you either. Still, you somehow felt as if things were different when directed at you.

Not that they really were. It wasn’t so much that you were picking up a different tone, it was more that, unlike Childe’s siblings and other friends, such as Zhongli, who was subjected to endless old man jokes, you couldn’t seem to take them well. When he joked about how many times you ran into the countertop you began to wonder if you truly had something wrong with your hand-eye coordination; when he said you were the laziest person, he’d ever met you wondered if you weren’t sleeping in too late; when he teased that he had to be your personal babysitter you wondered if you were truly good enough to be an adventurer. It wasn’t Childe’s fault, it really wasn’t, but that didn’t mean it hurt any less.

Of course, you could tell him, could finally let it all out and stop pretending that it wasn’t painful to try and keep all your emotion sunder wraps. But you couldn’t help but feel as if that would in some ways disappoint him. He was a Harbinger, tough, aloof. No words could ever hurt Childe, of that, you were sure. So how would he take it, the knowledge that his part was all too liable to shatter at every poke and prod? You couldn’t blame him if he turned out to be ashamed.

So, you kept it to yourself, smiled through all the jabs and teases. It didn’t matter, it really didn’t. You were fine! Or if you, weren’t it wasn’t worth it trying to change anything. You didn’t want to lose Childe, didn’t want to see the change when he went to say something before stopping, looking at you’re with barely concealed disappointment. Childe lived with his emotions to the forefront after all. And you wouldn’t ask him to change something you ultimately loved about him.

Thus, the days continued on, as did the teasing and the feigned smiles. Some days it was worth it, some days you were left with nothing but happiness bubbling up inside, the love that humans reserved for a very few number of friends and lovers. Yet those days were often days with minimal teasing, and you couldn’t help but notice the layer of anxiety that pressed on your love the days that were filled with Childe’s jabs. Lying in bed, limbs tangled with his, you stared up at the ceiling, wondering what you should do. You felt trapped, by your emotions, by your pride, by Childe’s words. They were all encircling you, and you could do nothing to defend yourself. You tried to keep the tears to a minimum; after all your partner slept so little already.

You didn’t know when the subtle shift happened, when it all became too much to handle. Maybe it was after Childe’s recent trip to Snezhnaya, where, surrounded by Harbingers who saw their coworkers as enemies rather than allies, he had sharpened his wit even more so than before. If his earlier teasing was unfocused, general quips, then his current ones struck quite closer to home.

“Wow my dear I didn’t peg you for a Treasure Hoarder, I don’t think that arrow could hit anyone if it tried!”

“I think you truly have the makings of someone who gets scammed by a Mondstadtian duke, or perhaps a Fontaine prince who has lost all his mora in a flood. Remind me to never go shopping with you.”

“Honestly, I think if you ran into the Electro Archon, she’d think your vision was fake. It’d be an easy way out.”

The whiplash of Childe’s proclamations of “princess” mingled with sentences that, had they been geared at anyone else, would surely be insults was shocking, and you found yourself less and less able to keep these two aspects of your partner compatible in your mind. Even less did you find the ability to simply brush it off.

You didn’t know why it was a comment about your socks that finally caused you to break. Really, it was too juvenile.

Laundry in your shared apartment was often seen as a punishment, the chore that each of you pushed onto the other. As such there was often a pile of laundry in the laundry basket, and incredibly slim pickings in your drawers. That being the case you often found yourself wearing mismatched socks. Perhaps it was a little odd, or a little childish, but it was certainly preferrable to spending all day at the river scrubbing your hands red. Who cared anyways? No one would notice such a small thing, especially once you had put your boots on.

However, nothing could get past Childe’s wicked sense of humor, and apparently your clothing choices were prime fodder for him.

“Nice socks.”

“Oh, thanks,” you replied, already having a sense of where it was going. The smirk that played across your partner’s face was full of mischief, and usually that only led to one place.

“I think that you’ll be quite the icon among toddlers all throughout Liyue. People will be asking you if you’re lost all day, or maybe they’ll ask you how it feels like to be nine.”

It was really a silly comment to get so upset over, such a small, insignificant thing to cry over. Yet there you were, standing in the kitchen, frozen in horror as your vision became fuzzy with tears. Unsure about any other course of action you buried your face in your hands and prayed Childe wouldn’t think about what you were doing.

“What’s wrong? Are you alright?”

You could hear the panic and concern mingling in Childe’s voice. Almost immediately a warm hand was on your shoulder, and you were suddenly flooded with the presence of the person you loved so much, the person you were now crying about. You could tell Childe was saying something, was whispering soft words of comfort, but in the moment your thoughts felt all too loud. Overwhelmed by the situation you turned into your partner’s shoulder and let yourself cry.

Eventually sensing you had lost all your tears Childe drew back slightly.

“Would you like a glass of water?”

“Yes please,” you replied, voice still small. Nodding Childe moved towards the kitchen. Within a few moments he was back, glass in hand.

“Was it the teasing?” He asked as you drank. Whatever you had to say about your partner, he certainly wasn’t stupid.

“Yes,” you mumbled, nodding for affect.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t realize I had gone too far. I promise I’ll be more careful from now on.”

“But Childe, it, it’s not just this time.”

“What do you mean?” Childe asked, voice flooding through with concern once more.

“It’s, I’m sorry, it’s just that, it’s all the time. Not all the time, every time you tease me. It’s not your fault! Of course, it’s not, it’s my fault. I don’t know, I just, it really hurts sometimes, all the time? I don’t know. I just, I’m sorry.”

Childe’s expression was one of abject horror. Taking your hand, he rubbed small circles on the top with his thumb. “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize how much it was affecting you. I should have been more careful.”

“But I don’t want you to feel like you have to, I don’t know, I know you tease everyone, I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

“You aren’t making me uncomfortable.” Childe’s voice seemed just as hurried as yours. “It makes me more uncomfortable to think that you’ve been burying this the whole time. You’re damn good at hiding things you know. But this isn’t a war or something, you don’t have to hide what you’re feeling, for whatever reason. Better if you tell me, y’know?”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize. Doesn’t look good on you, or sound good. I’d rather hear you happy.” Childe leaned in to press a soft kiss against your forehead. “I love you, okay? You mean more to me than a little bit of teasing.”

“You don’t think I’m being weak?” You managed to make out as your anxiety lessened its grip on you.

“Weak? Girlie you’re one of the strongest people I know! Weak my ass. If you wanted to rule the world you could give me a run for my money. Of course, I’d win though. I mean, I would be there right with you.”

“I know you would,” you smiled, despite yourself.

You knew that Childe probably would still retain the odd sense of humor and levity he already had. Old habits die hard and all that. Still, you had managed to say what had been haunting you all this time and, more than that, you had been assured that you were good enough, strong enough. Those few words, no matter how short, meant the world to you.

[blysse-and-blunder]

in lieu of a commonplace book: may retrospective

what's up ladles and germs, i spent the month of may out of town and jumping in and out of wifi coverage, so this post is has been a long time coming!

reading brought rebecca roanhorse's black sun with me on this trip, started and finished the whole thing on various trains in france. loved the main four pov characters, didn't quite get into it until after the first third or so, but all of the details and worldbuilding were terrific. i can never get enough of a third-party perspective on a character, so seeing serapio through xiala's narration was *chef's kiss* and helped me care so much more about him than his own pov, actually. i wasn't at all convinced by the flash-forward / flash-back introduction of naranpa's situation initially (the conversation she remembers with her parents just felt stilted), but doggone it by the time we came full circle and i saw how the dramatic irony was working, i was onboard. got a kick out of trying to place the different cites around the 'crescent sea' aka gulf, which may not have been correct but was fun.excited to see book two.

honorable mention in this section to the paying guests, sarah waters, which i bought from a charity shop for £2 while visiting bath UK (also at that charity shop: a set of porcelain egg cups!!). how different life might have been if i'd been able to read sarah waters younger in life.

listening downloaded to my phone for train rides, metro rides, walks across the countryside of different countries, etc.: florence + the machine's dance fever (2022) and the eurovision 2022 playlist. i don't have developed dance fever thoughts (except that...the aesthetic for the videos/album art feels more cohesive and possibly more successful than the album? but i did like it?) but i thoroughly enjoy 'free' and 'daffodil', and there are times when 'cassandra' really does hit. apparently she worked with jack antonoff on this album; things i learned while researching this post. i wasn't swayed by the spoken moments, all that much, but 'heaven is here' is somehow captivating? 'king' remains the standout; i do in fact need my bloody sword etc.

my eurovision thoughts are that everyone should go watch the performances by serbia (konstrakta, 'in corpore sano') and norway (subwoolfer, 'give that wolf a banana'), like, right now. watch them again if you saw them live. also here's a look at the lyrics and message of 'in corpore sano,' which, yes. and my other thought is that, this year, i actually might go out and listen to the other works by a bunch of these eurovision artists, which i realize is?? probably the actual goal of the contest???

watching finished our flag means death in my buddy's hotel room in london, watched the majority of my brilliant friend: those who leave and those who stay in various hostels with @hematiterings (series thoughts in the next post!), and tried to keep up with strange new worlds when we could. this version of spock entertains me. ofmd was good, i had managed not to be spoiled for the ending.not sure i can find a comment or common thread for these three, but, shows with friends = good. especially when you're footsore and far from home. actually i do have something, showing new trek / uhura to a nontrekkie linguistics person was hilarious.

playing fallow month.

making i may not bullet journal, but i sure did accumulate a stack of interesting things to stick into a hypothetical future scrapbook of some kind. and stickers! I made some good food the week i spent in maine (lots of chicken, an eggplant stir fry that i did have to throw out when i broke the container and got glass in the leftovers, absolutely tragic)

working on this month was the month of Archives Visits so what i made were reservations and emails and notes and pictures of manuscripts. turned out okay though :D EDIT: totally forgot but while traveling i did a zoom interview for, and then found out i had gotten, a small fellowship at my institution for next year. please clap!

[caitlesshea]

begging for footnotes in the story of your life

Ana learns a lot about Buck while she’s dating Eddie, like how Buck’s the one who should be dating him.

Ana learns about Buck in stages.

First from Christopher, when she was his teacher, and he would mention his Buck or draw Buck in family pictures. 

The second from the school nurse telling her that Christopher is being signed out to go home and she sees his name on Chris’ school forms. 

The third is from Eddie, when he brings him up as a work colleague even though she suspects it’s more than that.

She just doesn’t realize how much more until the first time she sees the inside of Eddie’s house. 

His house is homey, much cozier than she’d expect for a single dad who’s a first responder. She says as much and he chuckles.

“Some of this I did, but most was my Abuela.”

Ana nods and walks over to the mantle to look at the photos. 

She sees a picture of a younger Christopher sitting in a high chair between Eddie and a woman who she assumes is Shannon. 

“Shannon?” She asks quietly.

“Yeah. Chris, uhh, wanted to put some up.”

Ana nods and continues looking. There’s some more of Eddie and Chris, people she assumes are Eddie’s parents and his Abuela, and then there’s Buck.

Or well, she thinks it’s Buck, with how Chris has always described him. She notices one photo in particular that causes her to pause.

“Is that?”

Eddie reaches up and grabs the back of his neck, almost like he’s nervous. 

“Uh, yeah. Buck built him a skateboard, we tried it out at the park.”

So, Buck built Chris a skateboard after Ana wrongly said that Chris should know his limitations. 

“I’m sorry for saying what I said.”

“It’s fine, Ana.” 

“It’s not.”

Eddie shrugs and Ana considers bringing it up again but she chooses not to, instead focusing on a Christmas photo that was taken at the station; Eddie, Chris, and Buck in the back smiling. 

Eddie follows her eye movement and he smiles. “Buck and Athena set that up. We were on shift on Christmas and he surprised us with our families and dinner.”

“That was sweet.” Ana feels a little out of her depth here. She doesn’t think she’s ever seen this soft look on Eddie’s face before but she doesn’t want to ruin the moment. 

“It was, yeah.” 

They finish going through the photos, as Ana learns more about Eddie’s life. 

He makes them dinner, although he sticks a pan of lasagna in the oven so she doesn’t know how much he actually cooked. 

They’re about to sit on the couch, when he stops and says he’s going to grab something from his room. She follows him and notices for the first time that his room is a different sort of style than the rest of the house. 

It’s all dark blues and grays with some stylish lamps and photographs on the walls. 

She almost wishes she didn’t know about Buck now. 

“I like your room,” She comments while he grabs a blanket from the bed. It’s a soft black velvet.

“Oh, thanks. This was mostly Buck. My room apparently looked like a boring hotel room so he’s been giving me some of his stuff.”

“That’s?”

“Nice, right?”

No. She was going to say weird. But she nods instead. 

“The photo?” Ana asks as she walks closer to the print on the wall. It’s the typical California style photo, the palm tree lined street, but it’s in black and white, tasteful, where they’re usually cheesy. 

“Oh, uh, Buck took that. Had it framed for my birthday last year. Said it can remind me of why I moved us here, for a fresh start.”

“Huh.” Ana can tell it’s important to him, can tell that he loves the photo and the sentiment behind it. What she can’t tell is if he loves the photo more or the person who took it. 

“C’mon, let’s go watch the movie.” Eddie grabs her hand and she forgets about the room and Buck, at least for the night. 

~~~

Ana meets Buck in stages.

She thought she’d meet him at school, when he came to pick up Christopher, or at the school play, where Christopher was the main character, or at the science fair, or bake sale. All events she knows Buck was there for.

But, she never does. Whether it’s by luck or design, she doesn’t know. But she wishes she had, because she meets Buck, awkwardly, while on a date with Eddie. 

The one night Buck isn’t babysitting Christopher, Eddie’s Abuela watching him after Chris and Eddie’s talk, they run into Buck. 

So, she meets Buck outside of an ice cream shop. 

“Buck.” Eddie freezes beside her and she sees a tall man, taller than she thought with the pictures, with a cone halfway to his mouth. Buck lets out a sheepish smile and shrugs. 

That’s when Ana notices the woman next to Buck, she’s pretty, her red hair is gorgeous, and Ana thinks she looks familiar. 

“Taylor,” Eddie says clipped, in a voice she hasn’t heard from him since the skateboard incident. 

“Eddie,” The woman, Taylor, says just as clipped. 

Ana wonders what she missed. 

“What are you two doing here?” Buck asks and then he holds out his non sticky hand. “Sorry, Eddie’s rude, I’m Buck. You must be Ana.”

She nods and looks between Buck and Eddie who are giving each other eyes. “Yes, hi, it’s nice to finally meet you.”

“You, too.” Buck looks at Eddie and realizes no one is going to say anything else so he looks back to Ana.

“Would you two like to join us?” Ana asks out of desperation and Eddie looks at her incredulously. 

Buck looks at Taylor and she nudges him back. “We’d love to, but I have to get back to the station, I’m on nights right now. Next time? Buck and Eddie can schedule something.”

“Sure, bye Eddie. Ana.” Buck nods his head and she smiles at him. As they leave she can hear Taylor and Buck whispering to each other.

“That was awkward Buckley.”

“It’s not my fault he didn’t say anything…” Buck trails off and then they’re too far away to hear anything else.

Ana turns back to Eddie. “They seem like a cute couple.”

“Huh?”

“Buck and Taylor? You didn’t tell me he has a girlfriend.”

“He doesn’t,” Eddie says sharply. “They’re friends.”

“Oh, could’ve fooled me.”

“Why do you say that?” Eddie asks, looking at her for the first time since they ran into Buck.

“They seem close.” Ana shrugs. She doesn’t know why she has to explain anything, or why it would matter if Buck’s dating someone. 

“They, uhh, dated a couple years ago, but I think they’re friends now.” Eddie finally manages.

“Ohh. Okay. Friends with benefits. I get it.”

Eddie chokes on nothing and he looks a little green.

“Edmundo, are you okay?”

“Yeah, lets get that ice cream.” 

She nods and follows him into the ice cream shop, not surprised in the slightest when he orders the same flavor Buck was eating. 

~~~

The second time she meets Buck is at a party in his loft. Everyone is vaccinated and Buck wanted to have everyone over before his sister, Maddie, has her baby. 

Eddie introduces her to everyone; Bobby and Athena, Hen and Karen, Michael and David, Chimney and Maddie, Albert, and then Taylor.

“It’s good to see you again,” Ana says kindly as Eddie goes into the kitchen to grab them drinks. The loft is nice, modern, and looking suspiciously like Eddie’s bedroom, but she keeps that to herself. 

“Hey, not until after dinner. You’re worse than Christopher!” 

Ana looks over as Buck smacks Eddie’s hand with a towel as he tries to sneak cookies and Ana laughs at their antics, although no one else even so much as blinks their way. 

Taylor follows her line of sight and smiles. “Oh, they’re like that. You’ll get used to it.” 

Before Ana can respond she sees Taylor slide up to Buck and helps him with setting up the rest of the food. 

Eddie comes back over to her with a glass of wine and Ana smiles even as she notices Eddie’s face is pinched. 

Before Ana can grab it she spills some on her dress and Eddie curses.

“Shit, sorry Ana.”

“It’s okay. I’ll just grab a towel.”

“Buck, I’m taking her upstairs,” Eddie shouts to Buck and he looks over and nods.

Eddie guides her up the stairs and when she sees Buck’s bedroom, she pauses. It’s almost identical to Eddie’s in style and color. He even has the same photo hanging up on the wall. She says as much and Eddie smiles. 

“Oh yeah, he came to LA for similar reasons so he had one made for his place.”

“Huh.”

“There should be Shout Wipes in the bathroom. Medicine cabinet.” Eddie points to the bathroom as he sits down on Buck’s bed like he has every right to. He probably does. 

“Thanks. I’ll be just a minute.” 

Ana closes the door and finds a towel, wetting the stain first and then finding the wipes. As she cleans, she notices the meds in the bathroom. 

She knows she shouldn’t snoop but seeing Chris’ name on one of the bottles surprises her. It looks like Buck keeps extra medicine here for backup. She notices painkillers and Eddie’s favorite brand of shaving cream. 

Feeling like she’s crossed some sort of boundary she closes the medicine cabinet and is about to head back out when she hears voices from the room.

“You spill on yourself, too?” Eddie jokes and Buck groans.

“Albert ran right into me with the dip.”

“Sucks.”

“Seriously. I can’t wait til he leaves.”

“He could go back home, you know,” Eddie says gently as Ana hears what is likely a shirt being thrown in a hamper.

“I’m not gonna do that to Maddie.” Buck moves around and then asks. “Which one? Red or blue?”

“Blue, definitely,” Eddie responds and Ana can’t see them but she has to agree, whatever blue shirt Buck puts on will bring out his eyes.

“Good, I think this red shirt is actually yours.”

Eddie laughs and Ana pauses a moment because she’s never heard that laugh before. Part fond, part exasperated. She wonders why he laughs like that with Buck. 

“Makes sense.”

“Okay, come down when you’re done, I can’t have Albert setting my kitchen on fire.”

Ana can hear Buck heading down the stairs so she leaves the bathroom. Eddie stands to come closer and she accidentally blurts out what she’s thinking. 

“You have clothes here?”

“Huh? Oh, well I did live here for a couple of months, but with the firehouse and everything we all probably have each other’s clothes.”

Eddie says it so nonchalantly that Ana can’t even respond as he heads towards the stairs. He turns to look at her.

“Coming?”

“Yeah, sorry.” She doesn’t think it’s nonchalant at all. 

~~~ 

Ana meets Evan all at once. 

It’s her first night staying over at Eddie’s, with Christopher at Hen’s house for a sleepover of his own. 

She isn’t sure what wakes her up until she hears Eddie’s sleep rough voice.

“Evan?”

Who’s Evan? 

“Yeah, no, we’ll be there.” Eddie pauses as he sits up. “Don’t worry about it, I wouldn’t miss it.”

Eddie hangs up and looks at her sheepishly. 

“Is everything okay?” She asks as she sits up as well. 

“Yeah, Maddie’s gone into labor, so I was gonna head to the hospital.”

Huh? Eddie isn’t family, why is he going to the hospital?

“Okay. Let’s go,” Ana says instead of asking that question. 

“Are you sure? I can drop you off first.”

“No, it’s fine, we can go.” 

Plus this is a way for her to assert herself as an important person in Eddie’s life. 

“Thanks,” Eddie say, relieved, as he starts getting dressed. 

Ana follows suit and when they finally head to the hospital Eddie’s a bundle of nerves.

“She’ll be okay,” Ana says quietly as she places a hand on his leg. He nods but he doesn’t relax. 

He doesn’t relax, that is, until he sees Buck in the waiting room. 

“Evan,” Eddie breathes out as they hug. Ana’s momentarily shocked, because Eddie isn’t overly affectionate with anyone other than Christopher, but he hugs Buck like it’s a normal thing. 

Both of them calm down when they hug and then it hits her that Eddie called Buck ‘Evan’. She’s never heard someone call him that, but it must be his first name. 

She wonders when Eddie got that privilege. 

She feels like she’s intruding so she taps Eddie’s shoulder and he turns toward her. 

“I’m gonna grab coffee, you two want anything?” 

Buck smiles at her but Eddie answers her. 

“Black with cream for me, sugar and cream for Buck.”

“Okay.” Ana walks away and turns around just to see Eddie and Buck sitting down and bringing their foreheads together, almost unconsciously. 

“Oh, Ana, hey.”

Ana turns and sees Chimney.

“Chimney, hi. How’s Maddie?”

“She’s good. I’m grabbing her water. And waiting for Albert to get here. I take it you came with Eddie?” 

“Yeah. Is the whole station coming?” Ana asks even though she thinks she knows the answer.

“No. Only family. Hen and Bobby said they’d stop by after she’s born,” Chimney responds and then he’s quickly turning back towards the rooms. “Tell Albert when you see him that he comes in second since he’s late.”

“Sure,” Ana says quietly as she takes the coffee back to Buck and Eddie. After they grab theirs she sits next to Eddie and sees what they’re looking at on Eddie’s phone. 

“Is that Christopher?” She asks and Eddie nods.

“Yeah, I got so many photos of him when he was this age,” Eddie speaks quietly and Ana realizes that he got sent photos of Christopher because this must’ve been when he was deployed with the Army. He doesn’t talk about it much but she can tell Buck knows because Buck squeezes Eddie’s knee in support. 

The biggest shocker, though, is when Eddie grabs Buck’s hand and squeezes back.  

She once again feels like she’s intruding on something private, something theirs, and she doesn’t know what to do. 

Luckily she doesn’t have to think too much because Albert comes running in and he and Buck start arguing over who’s going to go in first, who’s going to be the better uncle. 

“Should we?” Ana gestures to them and Eddie shakes his head.

“Nah, they’re fine. This is fun for them.”

Ana nods and sits back to drink her coffee. Before she knows it, Chimney’s back in the waiting room telling them that Maddie and baby are fine and that they can all come meet her. 

Buck and Eddie jump up and Ana trails behind with Albert. 

“You don’t want to run in there?” She asks Albert.

“Oh I do, but I don’t want to overwhelm Maddie.”

Ana nods and keeps walking towards the room. When she gets there what she sees stops her in her tracks. 

Buck is holding his niece and Eddie, well, Eddie is staring at him with so much love, adoration, and abject want that Ana feels like she’s intruding. 

Eddie turns to her and holds out his phone. “Can you take a picture? I promised Chis I would show him before he meets her.”

“Sure,” Ana says like she’s underwater. Eddie’s lockscreen, a picture of Buck and Chris, barely registers. 

She hears the baby's name, Kylee Danielle, after her uncles, and watches as Buck tears up, and Eddie grabs the back of his neck. 

She then watches Buck pass Kylee to Eddie, and if she wasn’t so shocked she would notice the way Buck was watching him, the way Maddie was watching her, and the way Albert was videotaping everything. 

She would notice that Eddie looked damn good holding a baby. 

If she didn’t feel like she was intruding on a private family moment. 

She doesn’t belong here. She doesn’t belong with Eddie. 

She looks toward Maddie and Chimney, Maddie has kind but sad eyes looking at her and Ana knows now that she’s not who Eddie is meant to be with. 

“Congratulations,” Ana says quietly. “Eddie, I’m gonna go.”

“You don’t have to go,” Eddie says as he hands Kylee to Albert.

“I do. It’s okay, I’ll call you.”

It shouldn’t surprise her when he nods and turns back to the others but it does. 

She nods to Maddie and Chimney and then to Buck, who’s looking at her with an odd expression on his face. 

“It was nice to see you again, Evan,” Ana says and she hears his breath catch. 

She calls an Uber, waits outside for it, and when she finally gets home, she realizes she took some photos on her phone, too.

Ana looks at them, sees Eddie and Buck, looking like they belong together, and sends them to Eddie with the text ‘you have a beautiful family.’ 

~~~

Ana learns about Edmundo and Evan Buckley-Diaz when she gets a change of name form for one Christopher Buckley-Diaz. 

Along with the name form is an official form of guardianship for Buck, declaring him Christopher’s other father. 

~~~

Years later Ana learns about Ellie Buckley-Diaz when her fathers drop her off for her first day of kindergarten. 

“Eddie. Buck. Hi,” Ana greets them as they come out of the front office, paperwork in hand and an excited five year old bouncing on her toes. 

“Ana,” Eddie says warmly and Buck smiles. “Principal now?”

“Yeah, for a couple of years.”

“Congrats.” Eddie smiles and then turns to his daughter who pulls on his shirt sleeve. 

“Daddy, I want to see my classroom.” 

“I’ll take you,” Buck responds and gives Ana a smile. He squeezes Eddie’s shoulder once and then takes Ellie’s hand. 

“Papa! We have to see it right now!” 

“Okay, okay, little monster, we will,” Buck chuckles after her. 

Ana turns back to Eddie and he smiles after them and then turns to her. 

“I’m happy for you,” Ana says and Eddie looks at her curiously.

“Thank you. I am sorry about how…”

“Water under the bridge.” Ana waves her hand and points to a photo of her and her son, Milo, and Eddie smiles. 

“He’s beautiful.”

“Your daughter is, too.” Ana wants to say she looks like a perfect mix between the two of them but she keeps those thoughts to herself. 

They’ve never been close enough for that kind of conversation. 

“Thank you. She’s certainly energetic, takes after Evan,” Eddie says this with such fondness that Ana’s thrown back to the hospital when Kylee was born, and how he looked at Buck even then. 

“Nothing wrong with that.”

“Nope. Well, it was good to see you, I’m sure we’ll run into each other again.”

“Yeah, of course.” Ana smiles as he walks away, towards his family.

Ana looks at the photo of her son again. 

Learning all of these things about these great people led her to her greatest joy. 

She can’t be mad about that. 

[cipheress-to-k-pop]

Again

Pairing: Five Hargreeves x Reader

Warnings: Notes of depression and suicidal thoughts but nothing explicitly mentioned

Word Count: 2.4K

Summary: Five Hargreeves seems to have his heart taken by a mysterious girl who has spent a lot of time with him in a future that he’s trying desperately to erase.

Author’s Note: My first TUA work and so kinda excited for it. Will there be a part two?? Undecided for now must most probably not.

Forever Taglist: @simonsbluee​

“Hello?” Five called out as he walked closer to where the heaps of his findings had fallen down. The dust cloud was making it difficult to see but as soon as it settled, he sighed.

‘Of course.’ Why did he even expect to find anyone?

 But then another pile fell down and he knew it couldn’t have been a coincidence. He ran over the coincidence fallen debris to find you hiding behind it, looking dehydrated and in tears.

His eyes widened when they landed on the burns on your body, finding it amazing that you even managed to survive them.

But compared to the others, you got off easy.

“Hello?”

The whole while you had been staring at him but it was only when he spoke it felt like you were actually looking at him.

Immediately, you got to your feet, tears spilling onto your cheeks as you threw your arms around him. He instinctively caught your form as it collided with his, holding you close as you buried your head into his neck, sobbing.

“I’m so glad you found me.”

****

Allison noticed the way Five looked longingly across the street. At first, she thought he was just staring lovingly at the cafe because he needed a shot of espresso but she quickly noticed that his eyes were locked on the tables outside the little coffee shop.

In a table right underneath the shade of a parasol, sat you alongside your older sister, just enjoying a drink and chatting very animatedly. She looked between the two of you a couple of times, wondering which one of you Five was staring at but ultimately deciding that it wasn’t important.

“Five?”

“Hmm?” He answered distractedly, not shifting his gaze to his sister and continuing to watch you. Seeing you smile so brightly had a small smile coming to his face but no matter who saw it there was a touch of despair and sadness behind it.

“Do you know her?”

“Not....yet.”

She turned back to the table, watching you drink whatever you had in your cup and wondered what Five meant by that. Were you someone who survived the Apocalypse?

“Yes.”

“Oh, I said that out loud?”

“She’s the sole survivor of the Apocalypse.”

It was as though you could hear them talking about you even though they had the distance of a busy road between the two of you, but you looked up and locked eyes with him, holding your gaze curiously.

He continued to look at you with an unreadable emotion and time slowed down. The noises around Five slowly faded into cotton and the people faded into wisps of sweet-scented smoke.

And then suddenly like as if someone crashed through a window, he heard a glass smash and the trance was broken. You turned back to your sister, only sparing small glances back at him to see if this mysterious stranger was still watching you.

“Five? You okay, buddy?”

He sighed, now knowing that you really couldn’t recognize him and so he turned his back to you, disappointed, to meet his sibling’s concerned eyes.

“I’m not sure.”

****

You cuddled closer to five, watching the fire flicker and trying to stop shivering. He sighed exasperatedly and you knew he was angry with you but you really couldn’t care less about how he felt while your teeth chattered and you shook like a chihuahua.

“I know you’re upset with me because I made us stop but it’s not like we have a deadline or something. It’s just the two of us, we can do things as slowly as we want to.” You told him, trying to relax but something in the back of your mind wasn’t settling right.

You hated being alone with him. You hated being the only 2 people on the planet. Your heart yearned for something else.

“Dammit, (Y/N), we can’t just sit around and do nothing!” He snapped, throwing the last piece of kindling into the fire and a few of the embers jumped out.

“Why not! It’s not like we have anything to live for here anyway! We should just end it now!” You shouted in his face, feeling a wave of tears grow. You missed your normal life, you missed your family, your parents and people.

You missed it all.

“I won’t die like this! I will find a way to stop the Apocalypse even if it kills me! I will fight for it!” It seemed like he was trying to convince himself more than you but all you felt was a weight on your heart and you broke down into tears, hiding your face from Five who immediately felt guilty.

“I can’t fight anymore, Five. There’s nothing waiting for us at the end of the line, I can’t do this anymore, Five, I can’t.” You sobbed.

He pulled you into his arms and you cried into his chest while he rubbed gentle strokes up and down your back while you choked over your own breath. He felt his own tears prick in the corner of his eyes.

“We’ll change it all, there has to be something, (Y/N), there just has to.”

****

“Five are you okay?” Came a concerned voice from one of his brothers but the younger boy (physically) couldn’t tell which one it was. He was far too lost in his own thoughts.

“Five?” Allison called out again, shaking her little brother’s (again, physically) shoulder and he snapped out of his trance, only realizing then he had overfilled his cup of coffee and spilled it everywhere.

“Oh.” He muttered quietly before getting a rag to clean it up.

Above his head, Allison and Klaus shared a concerned look and had a mental conversation about whether they should ask Five what was bothering him. It was likely he would just talk about equations and tell them they didn’t have the capacity to understand it.

But this seemed different to his usual ‘I’m superior than you and incredibly stressed about this Apocalypse’ silence. So, against their better judgement they decided to ask Five about it.

“Five is everything okay? You’ve been acting weird ever since the coffee shop.”

“Oh, coffee shop? What happened at the coffee shop? Was there another gun fight?” Asked Klaus excitedly and Allison spared him an eye-roll before sitting down.

“No, he saw a girl and well, he did that.” She explained, pointing to Five where he stood just holding a rag in his hands and not even bothering to wipe up the mess he made.

“Oh, well I can fix that no problem.”  Klaus said, sliding off the table and onto one of the chairs, “You see, baby brother, when a boy comes to the age of puberty—”

“Shut up!” Ben snapped from behind him and Allison slapped the back of his head but Klaus clearly saw the smile on her face before she glared at him.

“Five seriously, what’s wrong? Who was that girl?”

“She—” His voice cracked a little and he cleared his throat, “She’s nobody.”

“Not yet.” She pressed and he sighed before abandoning the rag and sitting in front of them. The older siblings immediately noticed the way he was playing with his tie, fidgeting in a way that was very unlike him.

“You said she survived the Apocalypse. So, the two of you obviously met.”

“Yeah, we did.” He spoke softly, still fidgeting with his collar and not meeting their eyes.

“And I’m assuming she’s important to you somehow?”

He sighed, leaving his collar and from his palm fell out the pendant of the necklace hung around his neck. Although from a closer look, it was a pendant as much as a—

The three of them gasped, “Five, she is not.”

He nodded sadly, hand going back to the wedding band strung on a chain around his neck.

****

“Do you think it’s legal?”

“We’re pretty much the only people here so I’m assuming it is.”

“Don’t we need witnesses or something?”

“That’s a stupid old law, made my stupid old folks that aren’t alive anymore.” He said, smiling gently as he wrapped his arms around your waist. You gave him a teasing smile, reaching up to brush a few strands of hair out of his face.

You couldn’t help the giggles when he reached down to kiss you gently. It was infectious apparently because Five couldn’t stop the smile from growing on his face either as he leaned closer, making your back curve.

“I like the way you think, Mr. Hargreeves.”

“I like the way you kiss, Mrs. Hargreeves.”

You chortled and burst into laughter as did he. It was one of the happiest moments since you both found each other and moments like these were as rare as they came, when the two of you were just laughing in each other’s arms like carefree people.

Of course, you couldn’t have a big fancy wedding with your family and go for a fancy honeymoon, but this wedding gave you something that you had wanted ever since the Apocalypse.

A family.

****

Allison, Klaus and Ben all noticed the way that Five smiled when he thought about you. They noticed the gentleness in his voice and how wistful it became all of a sudden as he told them about you.

Allison grinned at him, feeling incredibly relieved that her brother had somebody to hold him while he had suffered through the apocalypse. Hearing the story of how he survived so many years all alone really broke her heart.

She always knew that she had a rough childhood without the love of a real father, but hearing Five’s story made her feel like she had it easy. At least she had civilization around her.

But even with the relief she felt it was ridiculously incredulous that her brother who couldn’t even drive legally yet was legally married. It was too much to even process and a part of her is reminded of when her daughter told her that she married Elmo.

But the longer she watched Five the more convinced she grew. He actually married you and lived a long life by your side before he came here to stop the Apocalypse.

“Wait...” She spoke up, realization hitting her, “Five, if the two of you met because of the Apocalypse, if you stop it...” She stopped herself from saying the rest, seeing his face fall. Klaus gasped softly from beside them, understanding what Allison was trying to say.

It seemed like Five was trying to gather himself and both siblings say the way he swallowed painfully and the way his mouth quivered for just a second.

“I know.”

****

“I want you to do this, Five.” You told your husband, holding onto him tighter and burying your face into his neck and trying to hide your tears from him.

His arms looped around your waist and he pressed kisses to your shoulder, cradling your head gently. You heard his breath stutter by your ear and tightened your hold on him.

“I won’t leave you.” He said firmly and you sighed but didn’t move from his hold. He was firm on that decision since he married you, giving up on his search to find the correct equation, promising that he wouldn’t abandon you.

But you knew what lied in his heart. His love for his siblings, the guilt for not doing anything to save them and him spending hours awake while you were asleep just wondering what it would have been like had he done something.

“You’ll never forgive yourself if you don’t do this.” You murmured and his body shook a little from trying to hold in his sobs.

“I can’t leave you.”

“It’s okay.” You whispered, pulling away to cup his cheeks and you wiped a few of his stray tears away. You knew it must have been tearing him up inside if he was crying and it hurt but you also knew that he needed to hear this.

“It’s okay, I’m happy that we had our time together. I’m so unbelievably happy to have met you, Five, but I know that this is something you need to do.” You told him earnestly, still wiping tears from his cheeks.

“I love you.” He whispered so gently because he was sure his voice would crack.

“I love you too.” The tears running down your cheeks was in contrast to the sad smile on your face as you pulled him in for a hug.

It was after that he began his search to find the right equation again and it was admirable to see him work so hard but also heart-breaking because you knew when he would find the right one the two of you would be separated.

But still you encouraged him and supported him, knowing that in another world, the two of you could have possibly been happier had the Apocalypse not taken place.

It hurt, but at the same time, you wanted it to happen, which broke your heart even more.

And somewhere deep down you hoped that you would meet Five in another life and love him again.

You really hoped.

****

You sat quietly in the corner of the booth with earphones plugged in and reading a book with your favourite drink sitting on the table in front of you. You were so immersed in the book that you didn’t hear the boy in front of you until he tapped on the table politely.

Pulling out an earphone, you looked up to see a boy about your age with a charming smile and a cup of coffee in his hands.

“Hi, do you mind if I sit here?”

“Of course not.” You smiled, moving your bag off the table so he could sit comfortably.

“I’m Five.” He said, holding his hand out for you to shake and you nodded.

“That’s a pretty unusual name, I’m (Y/N).”

He smiled in a mysterious yet adorable way and you couldn’t help but feel that there was a reason he sat down. One you would find out extremely later but for now it was enticing and curious which attracted you to him even more.

“Nice to meet you.”

‘Again.’

[anne-i-write]

sweet love

| who would have known that the local bakery could get sebastian to show his soft spot |

sebastian moran x reader

word count: 3609

tw: sexual implications but no actual spice (mostly from sebastian’s “flirting”)

a/n: a little new years gift from me to all of you! i’m sorry it took so long to get another post up but i enjoyed writing this one! hopefully sebastian isn’t too ooc in this idk ig i just have a thing for making characters ooc but it’s very sweet and possibly tooth rotting. i also realize that i got carried away making this one and now you can read through my brain rot lol. ALSO APPARENTLY HES 6’6 THE MAN COULD ABSOLUTELY PUNT ME WHAT anyhow, i hope you all enjoy!! p.s. if you see grammatical errors and incoherent sentences, i just copy pasted from google docs lmao good luck

Sebastian grumbled under his breath, annoyed with the work that William had him do.

“‘Those who do not work in this house aren’t treated as people.’” Sebastian scoffed as he glanced over at the list. “Louis should be glad I’m on good terms with William.”

The ex-colonel should’ve been back at the estate an hour ago but he felt somewhat spiteful and decided to stay out longer. He had finished everything he needed but he had no clue what to do. It was already lunch and his stomach was silently growling but he refused to face the brothers just yet.

That was until he stopped in front of a quaint bakery with the words Fox’s Biscuits painted on a hanging sign.

“Isn’t this…” He looked at the bakery window, mouthwatering biscuits on display for everyone to see.

“These are the biscuits Father bought for me when I was younger.”

Longing for a sense of his childhood, Sebastian walked into the small shop.

In an instant, the sickly sweet smell of chocolate hit his nose and the bell above the door rang out. It was a small space but one could feel the dedication put into the little treats. “Hello?” Sebastian called out as soon as he realized he had been alone for at least two minutes.

“Just a moment!”

Crashes and clangs could be heard from behind a door that presumably led to a kitchen. You burst through the door, your apron stained with chocolate and your right cheek was covered in a light dust of flour.

Sebastian stared at you with wide eyes, not sure if he should focus on the disorderly ruin that was yourself or the absolute charm that you carried. “You have a little something—” He pointed to his cheek and your cute eyes widened a smidge.

You frantically turned around, swiping at both cheeks and turning around when you felt like you were clean. “How may I help you today?”

Sebastian’s heart skipped a beat when you smiled widely, his cheeks feeling a little flush. He shook his head.

“Those biscuits by the door; how much are they?” You took a step to the side to see which one he was talking about. “Oh, it’s 10 shillings for each one.” You informed him, walking to the stacked treats with a cloth in hand. “How many would you like?”

A sly grin painted Sebastian’s features and he turned to face you. “3 pieces please.” You barely picked up the second biscuit before you felt a presence looming behind you. “Perhaps, I can have you too if I pay extra.” He whispered in your ear.

Heat spread across your face as you quickly shoved the rest of the biscuits in the small bag. You shoved the biscuits his way and held out your other hand expectantly. “Th-That’s 30 shillings!” You cursed the way you stuttered.

Sebastian laughed at your flustered state as he handed you the payment. He shot you a teasing glance.

“I can’t bake very well but I can show you how good I am with my hands.” Your eyes widened again at the implication and you shoved him towards the exit.

“Thank you for coming to our bakery!” You breathed out a sigh of relief. One patron down… only many more to come.

The ex-colonel swung the bag leisurely as he strode into the manor, forgetting about lunch. “Where were you, Sebastian?” Louis asked as soon as he opened the door.

“Getting myself food.”

The bell rang in your little family shop and you smiled, heading out to greet the next customer with freshly baked biscuits in hand.

“Good afternoon–” Your smile dropped when you realized who came into the bakery.

“What’s with the frown, sweetheart?” Sebastian cooed and you narrowed your eyes at him. “Did you not wish I would come back?”

“I wish you never came at all.” The man stilled for a moment but laughed when you walked past him to restock the display case. “You were here yesterday, were you not?” He turned to see you carefully placing the treats on the platter. “Yes but I’m here to buy more of those delicious biscuits you sell.”

Sebastian stalked closer to you just as you spun around to point the tray in his face. “Personal space, please.” He raised his hands in resignation and backed up. You walked back to the counter to place the warm tray on top. “You weren’t complaining yesterday.”

“I didn’t expect yesterday. Now, how many biscuits would you like?” Before he opened his mouth, you continued. “And buy enough so I don’t have to see you again.”

Sebastian laughed again, enjoying your quips. “You seem very spirited today, m’love.” You rolled your eyes. “Either you buy something or you can get out of the shop.” The man walked towards you but you stood your ground this time, arms crossed.

“Your biscuits are delicious but I bet you taste even better.” Your face heated up and Sebastian grinned. “Th-The way out is right behind you.”

Why do I always stutter?

“You’re adorable when you get shy on me.” You shot him a pointed glare and he chuckled. “I’ll have the whole display.” Sebastian thoroughly enjoyed the way your shy attitude appeared when he spoke.

“Th-The whole—” Sebastian chuckled and leaned on a nearby wall. “Yes, sweetheart; the whole case.” Of course, you needed the money but could the man even afford it?

“Th-That’s 100 shillings.” Sebastian took another glance at the display and shook his head. “Come now sweetheart, all of that is at least 600 shillings.” You shook your head.

“600 shillings is too much!” The thought of even getting mad at his previous words flew out of your head as he insisted on paying the full price. “Please, I’ll lower the price.”

Sebastian smiled as he reached into his coat and pulled out a satchel of coins. “It must have taken a painstakingly long time to make all those biscuits, it’s only right I pay you in full.” He placed the bag on the counter and you slid it back towards him. “I don’t have time to count 100 shillings! Please, that would be more than enough.”

This continued on for another ten minutes before he finally got you to settle on paying half of the original price.

“Enjoy your biscuits!” You called out to him just as the door barely closed behind him. Thankfully the door had a large glass pane and he turned around, offering a small wave before walking off.

You watched as he left the front of the shop and your eyes drifted to the empty display case.

“What in God’s name happened.”

Sebastian was aware that the last time he saw you was the other day, but he did comprehend that coming back the day after buying 60 biscuits would look rather odd. Telling Louis he had to run an errand in the town, the ex-colonel set off to your little bakery. Considering how empty it was the last two times he saw you, Sebastian expected it to be the same.

What he didn’t expect was a large crowd that seemed too big to be inside of the bakery.

Sebastian carefully opened the door and was greeted with the bustling sound of people chatting as they waited for their treats. Being the tall man he was, he searched for you in the crowd until he saw you rush out of the kitchen with your hair a complete mess.

“Thank you for being so patient, have a great day!” You said breathlessly and the patron nodded, wishing you well before leaving. They passed by Sebastian and he watched as they left the shop. He turned his attention back to you, who wore the same smile that made his heart stutter as you helped the next customer.

God only knows how long Sebastian was in the shop but the last customer left and you slumped against the counter. “Is that how you hold yourself in front of your patrons?” You groaned and he laughed.

“You bought 60 biscuits the other day and I still have to make the next batch, why are you back?” You glanced up at him and he shrugged. “Can I not wait for the biscuits?” You kept staring at him and he shot you a questioning glance.

“I can give you an estimated time for when the biscuits are done.” You yawned as you stood up and stretched. “I saw you come in a while ago, do you not have anywhere to be?”

Sebastian leaned against the counter and sighed. “Not today.”

Not having the energy to make him leave, you simply walked back into the kitchen and he watched as the door swung behind you.

It had been three minutes since you disappeared behind the doors and Sebastian was about to leave before you emerged from the kitchen. “If you’re staying until I make the next batch, then I want you to try this.” You said as you place down a small plate with two chocolate covered biscuits. “My father doesn’t know about these so I want to see if these taste good.” He took a glance at the plate and looked up at you.

“You couldn’t try them yourselves?” He asked as you stood across from him, arms folded. “I’d be favored to like them because I made them.” A beat of silence passed as you stared at each other.

“They’re not poisoned, if that’s what you’re worried about.” An impressed look crossed Sebastian’s face as he picked up the biscuit and ate it. You watched closely as the man in front of you chewed your creation. “Is that jam and cream?”

“Don’t talk with your mouth full, it’s indecent.” Sebastian snorted as he took another bite. “You sound like my mum.” You smiled softly as he started to reach for the second one.

“Keep staring like that, I might have to eat something else.” He said as he winked at you.

“Y-You—!”

Sebastian’s visits became routine and each time he came in, your day got a little better. You scoffed. Like you would ever tell him that.

“Darling!” Sebastian called out as he opened the door. “You know, I don’t even know your name and you’ve been coming here for two weeks.” You stated as you cleaned down the counter.

“Aw, you want to put a name to a face so you can moan it tonight?” He cooed and you slammed your towel down, flustered. “O-One day without suggesting those things! I-Is that too much to ask?” Sebastian laughed and you went back to furiously wiping down the counter.

He smiled as he walked towards you and placed his hand on yours. “If you keep scrubbing like that, the wood will wear down.” You sighed and relaxed your grip on the washing cloth. “Your hands are warm.” You said and he chuckled.

“The cloth’s gone cold.” He pointed out and you rolled your eyes. “I didn’t realize.” Sebastian snorted and took the cloth out of your hands. “Here.” He took both of your hands and held them in his, breathing out slowly on them. He looked at you, taking note of the dark circles under your eyes.

If you were working yourself that much, he would make you take this short break to relax.

You looked up at your hands and suddenly felt shy at the intimate contact. “(Y/N),” you muttered, looking away.

Sebastian glanced up at you and huffed softly. “Sebastian.” You continued to let him warm up your hands.

A serene silence fell over the two of you as he exhaled softly on your hands.

That was until your sister barged into the shop, back from the market. “(Y/N)!” All three of you paused as you stared at each other. You watched as your sister’s eyes traveled from yours to your intertwined hands and you instantly flared up.

“I was just handing him biscuits!” You yelped, yanking your hands out of Sebastian’s. You looked at him and nodded your head towards the exit. “Thank you so much for coming!” Sebastian grinned and he leaned in closer to you. “I’ll come back for you tomorrow, sweetheart.”

He knew he said this loud enough for you sister to hear. “Good day!” He smiled innocently, nodding to the girl by the door and walked out.

You watched as he left, not noticing your sister walking up and taking her place next to you. She watched with you as Sebastian walked away and took note of the subtle starry gaze in your eyes.

“Now I understand why you always want to watch the shop.”

You fidgeted as Sebastian walked into the shop once again. What was this? His 40th time at the shop? You shook your head. It didn’t matter.

I will ask him!

“What’s troubling you, sweetheart?” Even through the teasing tone, you could hear some worry and you just decided to spit it out.

“Would you like to accompany me to the moorish dance tonight?” Sebastian’s eyes widened as you stared up at him with unintentionally large eyes. The man knew he had a persona to hold in front of you but felt himself failing as he struggled to fight the blush rising on his cheeks.

“Only if you’ll accompany me to my bed tonight.” He watched as your eyes narrowed and you puffed out your chest, crossing your arms. “Forget I asked.” He laughed as you turned away from him. “I’m just playing around!” You stuck your tongue out childishly and turned away again.

“You’re pouting!”

“No I’m not!”

You two continued to bicker until he apologized, albeit through laughs. “I’m serious though, Sebastian.” He looked at you with a fond smile and he exhaled.

“I’d be honored.” You turned to face him with the same smile you used when you first greeted him, except this time it was wider and you looked like you were about to bounce over the counter. “But I really thought I would be the first to ask you.”

“Let customs lay themselves to rest for a bit, Sebastian.”

The dance was some time later at night so you decided to close shop early and walk around the town with Sebastian.

He had never seen you so talkative before and it was very interesting to see you speak without having to put him in his place every five minutes.

“So, do you and your sister run the bakery by yourselves?” Sebastian asked as you walked down the bustling road. “Lately. My father had been overworking himself so my sister and I decided to take over for him.” You smiled as a girl ran past your legs, her little brother following shortly after.

He watched on with a fond look as you continued talking about the bakery and all the baking mishaps that made you the person you were today. “That sounds like it requires a lot of effort.” You chuckled as you reached a secluded tree, not too far from the town but enough to be alone.

“It does, but the son of my father’s friend likes to help from time to time.” The sound of a possible competitor peaked his interest and sat down beside you on the grass. “The son of your father’s friend?” You nodded as you stared at the town and leaned on the tree.

“He’s a wonderful boy, very enthusiastic about helping me and my sister.” You turned to face him with an excited expression. “Oh, I’ll introduce you at the dance later! He’s helping the men set up but we should be able to see him!” The alpha male in Sebastian refused to let himself lose the one good thing he could possibly have in his life.

“You hid the whole jar?”

“Mrs. Pettor makes the best jams! I wasn’t going to let my family finish it!” Sebastian laughed as you defended yourself.

It was almost time for the dance and you both were walking to the town center.

“I’ve been talking all this time.” You realized and you turned to Sebastian. “Tell me more about—” You cut yourself off with a squeak as you were lifted off of your feet.

Sebastian watched as a blonde boy swung you around. “A-Alexander!” The boy put you down, a grin on his face.

The blond boy looked at you and you smiled back before Sebastian cleared his throat. “Oh, right!” You turned to face Sebastian and grinned. “Alexander, this is Sebastian! Sebastian, Alexander!” The shorter man held out his hand, blue eyes instantly hardening.

“Hello Sebastian,” Alexander said as Sebastian shook his hand. “Alexander.” You looked between the two and felt a tense aura emanating from them before you clapped your hands.

“Shall we go to the dance?” Alexander let go of Sebastian’s hand and immediately faced you. “Of course!” The blond grabbed your hand and you were barely able to get ahold of Sebastian’s before Alexander took off running.

Cheers and music filled the air and the sound of shoes hitting stone echoed throughout the streets. Despite knowing most of the faces, you spent most of your time talking with Sebastian about stories from each of your lives.

“(Y/N)!” You turned your head and saw Alexander heading towards you, out of breath and sweaty from dancing. You excused yourself from the conversation and Alexander stopped in front of you. “I never did thank you for working more than you should have these last few days.” You laughed as you waved him off. “It’s nothing you should thank me for, Alexander. My sister helped so it wasn’t all bad.”

Alexander took a glance at Sebastian, who had been mobbed by most of the town women and looked like he was trying to hold his own. “Would you like to dance?” His question caught you off guard. “I invited Sebastian, I couldn’t leave him…” You turned to see a group of girls crowding around the man and your smile faltered. “One dance wouldn’t hurt.”

“Sebastian!” He looked up from the group of girls and saw you waving. He was about to move until he saw your hand in Alexander’s. “I’m going to dance for a bit!” You laughed as Alexander pulled you to the dance area. Alexander chuckled at you as you told Sebastian of your whereabouts. At least you had the decency to tell him you were dancing with another man.

“So how’d you meet Sebastian?” Alexander asked as you danced to the music. “He came into the shop one day and just kept visiting!” You smiled and the boy in front of you exhaled softly, deciding to drop the topic and talk to your sister about it later.

The former colonel no longer focused on the girls in front of him as he watched you laugh hard at something Alexander said and his heart beat faster in his chest. Out of jealousy or awe, he couldn’t tell. But the way your eyes shone under the golden glow of the street lamps told him to move and get you.

He pushed his way through the crowd of ladies and kept his eyes trained on your carefree figure. Your skin looked so beautiful under this light, maybe you were the one who lit up the town. Your smile alone had enough energy to do so anyway.

“May I have a dance with (Y/N)?” Sebastian asked as he reached you and Alexander. The blond man smiled and your eyes sparkled in delight. “Of course.” Alexander gently let go of your hand and placed it in Sebastian’s.

“Thank you Alexander!” You called out and he turned around, sending you a soft smile and a small wave before walking towards your sister.

You turned your gaze back to Sebastian and you grinned. “Did you get jealous?” Sebastian scoffed before shaking his head. “I don’t get jealous.” You laughed as you felt Sebastian pull you closer. “I saw you looking at Alexander like he was going to steal me away.” You pointed out with a smug smile.

“He did steal you away.” You grinned at him.

“You’re pouting.”

“N-No I’m not!” You laughed and watched as the tips of his ears turned pink. “Aw, you’re adorable when you get shy on me!” You cooed, using the exact same words he said to you a while back.

“You—” He picked you up by the waist and you squealed as he lifted you up. “You think you’re so smart.” He muttered as he placed you back down and you looked up at him, your skin shining from sweat and short breaths leaving your lips.

He instantly leaned in, placing a short kiss on your lips and your eyes widened before trying to chase him before he pulled away. “You do taste better than your biscuits.” You buried your head in Sebastian’s chest in embarrassment and he laughed as he started to lead the dance once more.

“Because of that, I’m charging you the rest of the 60 biscuits you bought.” Sebastian feigned hurt. “But that’s too much!” You rolled your eyes and smiled up at him. “I’m sure if you don’t want to pay, Louis can help me find something for you to do to pay me back.”

Sebastian’s eyes narrowed and you giggled at the sour look on his face. “I’m sure you can help around the shop to pay them off, if you don’t want Louis to get involved.” His eyes softened before gently grabbing your hand and placing a chaste kiss to it.

“If it means I get to see you everyday, it will have been worth it.”

tags: @zoehanji @infinitebells

[thesunicarusfellfor]

Small Actions (Create Big Ripples) CC!Plat!Ranboo x GN!Reader

I've been thinking lately about this little drabble and it makes me a bit upset? Like.. I'm in this position high key but theres nothing I can do about it...

(R/R/n) stands for Ranboo's real name. Also if you're really tall.... No you're not. Shhhh. For plot purposes

You stayed away from social media as much as possible. Now, don't get me wrong, you used to love watching Youtubers play their games and happily interact with their fans.. But growing up, you never seemed to have enough money to donate when they streamed, or go to events where they were.

You had always wanted to tell them how much they've helped you through life, or shaped your personality.. Or saved you. But... They get told that every day by over hundreds of people.. So there would be no real sentiment behind it..

You'd probably just get a simple, "Aw. Happy I could help." Before turning back to their game without blinking twice.

So, you just watched silently. It hurt, you know? Wanting to thank them, or send them something to show your appreciation.. But you never seemed to be able to send it, with the thought that 'it won't really matter to them after five minutes.. You'll just be brushed over. It's pointless.'

Eventually it hurt too much to keep watching the content creators that raised you, so you just stopped and went on with your life.

It was hard, but at least you didn't have to deal with the fact that you would never be able to thank the people you watched for making your life that much better.

As time went on, while you still heard about the creators, it was just... less. Now people were non stop blabbering about these people from something called the DreamSMP?

Your sister was obsessed with it to say the least, and you always heard her mumbling about strange people like Technoblade? Or Sapnap? And apparently some people had children with inanimate objects?! Like a Samsung Fridge and a salmon?! Yeah you didn't even bother trying to understand what she was rambling about most of the times. It just spun your head in circles.

"Okay, I gotta take my mutt to the vet," Your sister and closest friend, (S/n), tilted her head towards the backseat to her dog as you sat in the passenger seat. "You think you'll be good to do the shopping for two or so hours? I'll call when I'm finished, and plus I know how you can get distracted with looking at some things."

"Yeah, I think I'll be good." You nodded slightly, going over the list in your hand of things to get for your classes, food and just some clothing for the changing seasons.

(S/n) pulled into the parking lot and looked you over briefly, "You forgot your mask didn't you?" She watched as your hands flew up to your face to feel for the fabric, but you didn't find it so you fished through the pockets of your sweater before smiling nervously at the driver. "Uuugggggggghhhh. Of course. Okay, I got a new one from the merch store that you can use, but do not damage it! I spent a whole $30 on it!"

Scoffing as you rolled your eyes, you snagged the half white and half black mask away from her, "You and your merch. Honestly, (S/n), your obsession scares me. But anyway, thanks. I won't get it damaged, I swear." You pulled the mask onto your face after giving her a smile and walked into the store as she drove off.

Sighing slightly, you walked in, sanitized your hands, and set off on your journey to find the things you needed. Surprisingly, today seemed to be a good day as you miraculously pulled the card that didn't have the busted wheel!

Humming a soft tune to yourself, you paced up and down aisles in search of (S/n)'s favourite coffee. Pausing for a moment as you scanned the shelves, you finally spotted it and made a noise of anger as you realized it was on the very top shelf. "Oh, I hate it here..." You mumbled, a phrase you had picked up from your sister who was really big on trends like that.

Grumbling to yourself, you stood on the tips of your toes, jumped up and down, even climbed the shelves a small bit, but it just seemed to brush by your fingertips every time. Apparently it had been long enough to the point where someone had wandered into the aisle as well.

"Hey... Uh.. Nice mask? You need help?" A male voice asked very hesitantly making your head turn towards him. He was t a l l and literally could tower over you if you got close enough. He had fluffy dirty blonde hair possibly? It looked a little damp so you couldn't really tell. Rain had been in the weather report, but guess it couldn't hold off long enough. Oddly enough, he was wearing dark sunglasses and the exact same mask as you?

'Maybe he's a fan of one of (S/n)'s fandoms?' You stepped back with a sheepish smile and a blush. "Oh! Yes please! Uhm.. Also, could you tell me about what these masks represent? This is my sister's... And I kinda want to make sure I'm not looking like I'm part of some gang or something."

The tall boy reached up for the coffee before pausing midway through and looking at you in surprise. "You don't know who... Oh, it's just from a Twitch Streamer.." He murmured rather softly as he got the coffee down for you.

With a cheerful "Thank you!" You placed the container in the cart. "Oh? Yeah that makes sense. My sister loves that kind of stuff. Are they... A good person?"

"I-I'd like to think so." He nodded quickly. "Are you not.. Like, a fan of content creators? Like.. Uh.. Dream or (P/F/C)?" (Past favourite creator)

"Well... I mean I used to really like (p/f/c) when I was younger. But it kind of... Saddened me, you know?"

He looked at you again and tilted his head a bit, "Saddened you? Did they do something bad?"

"No no! It's just... I try to avoid joining fandoms, even if they make me really happy while in them despite the toxicity. I really enjoy the people who create content, and I like watching them have fun... It's just.." Were you really gonna spill some personal stuff to some stranger who showed you the slightest bit of kindness? Not originally. But he kept watching you, patiently waiting for you to continue the sentence. "They'll... Never know.. How much they saved me."

"Oh.. I see. Yeah.. I've had that happen a lot. When, I watch this guy's streams," He pulled at his mask for a moment, "People always donate money and tell him how much they appreciate him for getting them through rocky times.. It's heartwarming to say the least but he does sound genuinely thankful."

"Oh that's sweet.. What does he do? Or what's he like?" You asked with a smile, although he couldn't see it, as you crouched down to get something from the sheleves. "Unless you have places to be of course!"

He looked a little surprised at first, "Ah... I got time. It's just.. Kinda nice being able to talk to people again after quarantine..." He trailed off briefly before taking something off the shelf as well and putting it in his basket, "Uh.. The streamer is a popular minecraft player. He recently hit a record during a stream and everyone lost their minds. He's a little painfully awkward at some points but he enjoys playing the games and interacting with his chat."

"Oh he sounds nice! I would definitely want to friends with someone like him!" You chuckled softly before frowning and glancing away. "Oh.. Popular.. So I'd be another comment in the flood of a chat.. Damn. I got a little excited. Oh! My bad, I'm (Y/n). Nice to meet you!" You laughed softly in an attempt to brush off the sad atmosphere you made.

"(R/r/n). But everyone just calls me Ranboo. Nice to meet you too." He sounded as if he was smiling but there was a soft sadness in his tone. "Do you not like popular streamers then?"

"No, it's just... that I had always wanted to tell them how much they've helped me through life, or shaped my personality.. Or saved me.. But... They get told that every day by over hundreds of people.. So there would be no real sentiment behind it.. I suppose it just left me feeling a bit hopeless and like a broken record of every other fan of theirs. So, I just watched silently. It hurt, you know? Wanting to thank them, or send them something to show appreciation.. But I never seemed to be able to send it, with the thought that 'it won't really matter to them after five minutes.. You'll just be brushed over. It's pointless.'.."

Ranboo seemed slightly more upset and he shifted his basket into his other hand, "I don't think it's like that at all.. I believe that streamers and creators truly cherish anyone who even interacts with their videos, and even though they know there's some people in the world who can't say anything or buy their merchandise, the creators still know that they're there. They appreciate everyone who comes along their path, whether they support them by giving them money, criticism or their attention!"

You blinked at how... Passionate your new friend was about this topic before smiling softly. "I guess... It never passed my mind.. Thank you Ranboo.. Hey, you wanna be friends and get to know each other more?"

His expression was unreadable due to the fabric covering his mouth and nose, and the glasses covering his eyes. "Oh! Sure!" He sounded quite happy, so you were guessing that you weren't being too awkward. "Here's my number, as long as you promise to never give it to anyone. Even if someone wants to get to know me, okay?"

You took out your phone and looked at him with a strange expression, but quickly nodded. 'Maybe he is just really strict about his privacy.' Once he gave you the number, you sent a quick text to him to give him your contact in return. "Great! It was wonderful meeting you, I hope we can hang out more often! After.. covid of course."

Eagerly nodding, Ranboo finished writing your contact into his phone and slipped it back into his pocket. "Oh yeah definitely! I'll see you soon, (Y/n)!"

Parting your separate ways, you looked down at the newly added contact, 🤍Ranboo🖤 (Platonic hearts), with a smile.

Maybe small actions weren't as useless as you thought...

[citydreamgrls]

they were roommates - part one

a weasley twins x fem!reader fic 

summary: she had nowhere to go, fleeing home to pursue something along the lines of freedom, so being welcomed into the entrepreneurial twins life was a whole world of new experiences waiting to happen. 

an: i would just like to point out that this isn’t a fic with a polyamorous relationship, sorry if that was what some people wanted, instead i wanted to keep which twin is the love interest a secret until the end. if u guys want to guess after reading this first part, feel free to do so, i would love to hear your guys’ reasons too !!  secondly, i would like to say a huge huge thank you to everyone for getting me to 600 followers, that’s absolutely mad like i’m blown away beyond compare, i love u all millions and billions i really am so grateful so thank you . hope you enjoy this first part, as always, <33

words: 5,790

warnings: swearing?

None of the nights seemed to turn into excitement, but this particular Tuesday evening in the Leaky Cauldron was passing slower than the rest had done. The paintings on the walls cast their weary eyes over the few lonely drinkers scattered across the dim room as even they contemplated calling it an early night. Y/n flicked through an old magazine and wondered if this place had ever seen much action, or whether the inn had become somewhere that paintings came to rest alongside grumpy travellers.

The girl hadn’t worked behind the bar long, only a handful of months now. But since then not a single bar fight had broken out, no one ordered anything out of the ordinary, and she struggled to remember seeing a single nice man pass through the doors. Besides the Weasley twins of course, who were running late for their weekly drink.

“Slow night?” Hannah came up behind her, carrying a stack of clean glasses and placing them under the counter. The girl swiped away her magazine and nodded, doing her best to hide the guilty blush that grew on her cheeks whenever she lied. It had always been a curse.

“I can do that if you want,” She offered, taking over and letting her boss stand up straight again. There was a strange air of awkwardness between the pair, despite the fact that they had grown close since she had started working as a barmaid.

“It’s been like this a lot lately, just… empty.” Hannah huffed, pulling up two stools and letting the younger girl sit beside her for a while.

“Yeah, makes the time pass a lot slower.”

“Neville’s getting worried,” The woman chewed her lip, gazing around at the lack of people. “He thinks it won’t be long before we need to do something drastic.”

“Should I be worried?” Y/n asked, knowing everything rode on this flimsy job.

Just as the girl posed her question the two front doors burst open, revealing the Weasley twins along with two others that she recognised from their past visits.

“I’ll talk to you later darling,” The boss stood, squeezing her shoulder and going to greet the regulars who she knew so well.

As Neville appeared from the back office to do the same she was called over to the far table by a man who she’d already brought too many drinks to. With a sigh, she obeyed his whines, and went over to see what he wanted.

“About time sweet cheeksh,” He slurred, his head propped up by a weary arm while the other gestured wildly as he spoke. “Another round darling-” She nodded, taking his money from the table and turning to leave, but he reached out for her hand.

She shivered beneath his touch, the stench of bile and alcohol filling her nose as she tried not to vomit on the spot. It was best to just ride out whatever he wanted, knowing better than to anger any kind of customer.

“Why don’t you join me when you get those drinks sorted- I haven’t got another chair but I’m sure my lap would do nicely.” He grinned, showing off the layer of yellow on his teeth.

Y/n gulped back her grunt and pretended to smile, sighing with relief when he let go of her and slumped against the wall beside him. The feeling of his hand lingered on her until she managed to distract her mind a little, smiling wider when the twins came up to the bar to order.

“Evening boys,” She sniffed back the nerves and greeted them with a polite welcome. “Not giving you trouble was he?” One of them asked, nodding over to the drunken mess.

“Nothing I can’t handle,”

“Well you let us know if not,” The other chimed, their charms always making her feel comfortable around them. Which was much more than could be said for most of the creeps who roamed the inn each night.

“That’s very good of you both, thank you-” Her smile never faltered, they always had noticed that, “What can I get for you then?”

“Two hog’s heads, one rum and I’ll have…”

“Come on Fred,” The other nudged his brother, the girl finally able to differentiate them, that was until the next day when she wouldn’t be able to recognise the clothes they chose.

“Firewhiskey would be great thanks y/n,” He smiled sweetly, leaning up against the bar as she rang up their orders on the till. He delved into the pockets of his trousers as George left to speak to Neville a bit longer, placing the money in her hand. “Keep the change too,” “A-are you sure?” She stuttered, looking down at the remaining 3 galleons in her hand.

“George never tips, so consider it his debt too.” The boy scoffed, leaving to join the rest of his group. The girl pocketed the money before anyone else could see her doing so and went to fix the drunken man his seventh drink of the night.

He grumbled about how much work he did that no one appreciated, as his eyes raked over her body in a queasily slow trance. The man didn’t stop at that, further pressing her to sit on his knee and let him feel her up. Crude remarks fell from his lips as if he’d relayed them to every woman he’d come across, as if it was second nature. All the while, she stood and let him ramble on, doing her best to ignore what he was saying and just nod along mindlessly. This wasn’t even the worst one, the girl sighed to herself, grimacing at the way his fingers toyed with the hems of her skirt as if he was going to try and slither inside it.

With perfect timing, Neville called her back to the bar, faking some questions about the menu so that she had an excuse to dismiss herself from the dog’s company and scurry off. She heard him call after her, but couldn’t make out what exactly it was he was saying. The girl prayed that he was too drunk to actually get up and walk over to the bar, or else he would become truly relentless.

-

No matter what, y/n always smiled, regardless of who was talking to her or at her. And when she wasn’t dealing with the unruly men of diagon alley, she was happy, she was lucky that she had a job and somewhere to stay. She had no reason to be unhappy.

Fred and George liked that about her. That in such a dimly lit, run down little place like the cauldron, such light could shine through with her presence. Both of them had mentioned it once on their drunken walk back home one night, that they wished they could afford to hire someone else at the shop because she would be perfect for it.

Y/n always smiled because most of the time she was a happy person, until there was no reason to be happy. She discovered that dreadful sinking feeling later that night once the pub closed and the girl was finishing up with her cleaning.

Neville and Hannah were speaking in hushed voices nearby, words that she couldn’t make out over the sound of her brush swishing over the stone ground. But they continued to glance over at her when they believed she wasn’t watching, which made her heart tighten with nervous anticipation.

“Y/n… darling.” Hannah’s sweet voice sounded through the empty room, startling her slightly. The girl stood up straight and smiled, a sight which made her boss want to cry on the spot. None of this was going to be easy. “Could you come into the office with me, please.”

She followed, her hands shaky as she left the broom leant up against a lone table. The door shut behind them with a finalising jolt as the woman sat down before her, prompting her own body to do the same.

The air became thick, and constricting as her knees locked together politely. Hannah seemed just as nervous as she, delaying the inevitable by shuffling paperwork around and shoving into nearby drawers. Finally the movement ceased and she had no choice but to bite the bullet.

“I know we already spoke today, about how the business is going here, and I promise that Neville and I have tried to do everything we can to get around this. But I’m afraid we’ve been left with no other choice y/n.”

The sound of her name felt like a stab, one short sound that cut through her skin and deep into the bone. The girl dwelled on that feeling, hoping that whatever followed would hurt less in contrast. It didn’t.

“We have to let you go y/n,” The knife plunged deeper, somehow splitting open all her organs on its way through her body. She froze, knowing that in this moment her world was falling apart all around her like dominoes.

“A-and the room? I’m supposing you need it?” Her voice was wavering, constantly on the edge as she confirmed all the priorities.

“I’m so sorry,” The gesture was appreciated, but it did nothing to help in the moment as the now homeless girl’s mind raced.

“Thank you anyway, for the past few months.” It was a sudden bravery that brought her to her feet as she announced how she would pack her things right away.

In truth, she needed to be alone, just for a few minutes. So she could let it all go, cast a muffliato and sob away her worries for a small amount of precious time. Hannah didn’t dare follow her, knowing nothing could fix it for the younger girl, instead she brought the bottle of gin from the bar into the office and took long, thoughtful sips until it was no longer the only thing playing through her mind.

-

When the girl gathered her things and apparated down to the front door with them, Neville was there with a sad smile upon his face. Only giving her a brief goodbye, before swiftly leaving to busy himself with yet another maintenance job around the building. He never was one for complex emotions, so she didn’t think bad of him for escaping an awkward situation.

Y/n opened the front doors, seeing the pouring rain before her and almost bursting into yet another round of tears. Not that her red raw eyes could take it much longer. Maybe it was because she had been standing up for the good part of eight hours, or maybe just the pitiful sight of the gloomy street before her was enough to make her knees shake. As if they were going to buckle beneath her and send her crumpling to the ground.

But she shuffled forward, her trunk following behind her and she had quietly charmed it to do so. Admittedly she didn’t have a lot, when she had decided to try and live alone it had become a rushed affair to say the least. So she only owned a number of outfits within that case, along with some books and other little items she had deemed important enough to bring alone. That, and her guitar case, which loomed over her shoulder like a stalking figure in the night. The one thing she definitely didn’t have, was a coat to shelter her from the oncoming rain.

The girl walked a few steps, round the side of the building, and found a pile of crates to rest on beneath a small dripping canopy. It was dry, for now, and it gave her a chance to think properly. She needed to figure something out fast.

But y/n’s mind was full of white noise, watching puddles form between the cobbled pathway before her and thinking how she used to love the rain as a child. It had been relaxing and beautiful from the safety of her childhood bedroom, the window facing her parent’s courtyard as she watched them leave for work each morning.

Back then they would both turn and wave, with a generous smile on their faces, always reminding the young girl how they wished to see her when they returned. They were always happy when she was a child, the three of them a cacophony of laughs and giggles. Until it stopped. Her parents worked together, but never left the house together, and neither of them stopped to wave her goodbye, no matter how many times she waited for them to do so. They just stopped being happy, and as y/n shifted her weight upon the damp crates she realised that maybe her once beloved parents were never happy at all.

They became distant. To one another and to her, even more so as she grew older and became her own person. They tried to oppress it, probably seeing her joyful exterior and constant smiles and not recognising where it had come from. Not either of them. It angered them further, seeing her be such a resilient person, because they wished for her to feel the same neverending hurt they had caused one another. Regardless of the fact that it wasn’t her emotion to own.

Y/n remembered the night she was handed a file by her father, feeling stunned to have been called into his study while he was working. Often he would go inside and not appear for days at a time, so she knew whatever it was, it had to be important.

She read over the words he’d laid out for her, detailing their plans for her, what they wanted for her future. It was a plan of her life, given to her by two people who couldn’t be bigger strangers. But it wasn’t hers, it felt nothing like hers. She wanted to be someone, and she wanted to do it for herself, not because her parents feel it’s financially best.

The words, writer… and prophet echoed constantly around the page as she tried to make sense of it all. Her father barely looked up from his work as she struggled to remain calm, her lungs losing all motor function as she felt her stomach twist and turn. That was when she realised she had to leave, do something for herself.

Rain had been such a comforting thing for y/n, when she was a child. Now it covered her like a plague, and drenched her down to the bone as she did all she could to forget about that life. It had been her home, her playground, her school. It had been her whole life, without much chance to be free in the rest of the world.

Now it was nothing. She wanted it to be nothing. There had to be something she could do, there had to be somewhere she could go. Because that place was no longer an option.

“Y/n?” A voice made her head whip up, the tears on her cheeks easily disguised as the rain if it wasn’t for the way she snivelled to herself. She hadn’t even felt herself begin to cry, yet here she was, and it was a pitiful sight to see.

The light was bad in the alley, but when the two tall figures got nearer she recognised them instantly. Her heart broke a little more to see the worry in the twins’ eyes as they quickly took in the sight of her cramped body amongst her belongings.

“Are you leaving town then?” She thinks it was George, asked, he had been the one wearing a black shirt when she’d seen them earlier. The girl was in a daze, her head taking in their words a lot slower than it should have been as she begged herself not to cry in front of them.

To them, she looked like she was in a dream. Her eyes glazed over even as she glanced their way, making it look like she wasn’t really there with them. George’s question caught her off guard a bit, the girl looking as though she had forgotten where she was as she looked around her with bewilderment. Then the look of confusion fell to one of despair when it clicked once again, she was all alone.

“I suppose I am.” Even the two men could hear how her voice begged to break as she spoke with an airy tone. This was the first time they had seen her anything but bright and smiley.

It broke their hearts, in all honesty.

“Do you need somewhere to stay the night?” Fred, this time, asked. He knelt down to meet her eye level, their tall forms always towering above her at the best of times.

“We have a particularly comfy couch at our place,” George added, following suit with the kneeling.

“It’s got five star reviews,”

“And probably a few galleons hidden down the back if you’re lucky.”

Their smiles made her giggle, and it was all they could have asked for in the moment.

“That’s very kind of you,” Her sweet tone was back, like she’d taken control of her head again, “But I couldn’t ask that of you two.” It was her default to be polite, not wanting to be a burden to anyone. It was the one thing her nanny had taught her before being let go when she was twelve, not to ask anything of anyone but yourself.

“Nonsense,” Fred stood up, taking her guitar case that was leant up against the brick wall and swinging it over his shoulder.

“Really, I’ll figure something o-out - it’s fine!” She tried to protest, but the twins had already decided her fate. George lifted her trunk with ease, and Fred held out a hand for her, prompting the girl to clumsily lift herself off the jumble of crates with his assistance.

“Come on then,” They said, starting off towards the brighter part of diagon alley.

She didn’t move, Fred having let go of her as soon as she steddied herself again. They looked back at her, both frowning with the same face as she tried not to laugh at how they were so similar they even acted like one another.

“Well you better come with us-” “Or else it’ll look like we’ve robbed you!”

The girl just looked down at her feet, feeling as though they were only doing this because they couldn’t leave her out in the rain. Which was true. But the twins knew that she was someone worth helping out.

“Do you have anywhere else to go?” George asked, shifting the case into his other hand nonchalantly as they waited for her to come along with them. Silently she shook her head, embarrassed to meet their eyes as she admitted defeat.

“Then what are you waiting for?” Fred chimed in, still wearing their signature smile.

Y/n couldn’t help but return the sentiment, she didn’t have to be alone for at least one night. That was something to smile about, so she smiled. Her feet surged her body forward, a small skip noticeable as she reached the two patient men.

“We do look like we’ve just mugged you.” George laughed as they all walked through the alley and towards their shop, her little life packed away and in their hands. The girl slotted between them, having to catch up with their longer strides every now and then, as both twins chatted away as if nothing was amiss.

-

“Here’s the palace itself,” “Our pride and joy!” They announced, ushering her into the shop lined with all the products an excited teenage wizard could wish for. The shelves seemed to be full to the brim, some things piled up as a display. As haphazard and chaotic as it looked, y/n couldn’t deny that the bright colours shimmering off everything she could see instilled a happiness inside her that she rarely felt as a child. This would have been her dream when she was younger.

The twins’ shop was well known in the alley, by almost everyone who visited the leaky cauldron. Yet she had never dared step inside it herself. Most days she would have been busy with jobs around the inn, and on the off chance that she ventured around any other establishments, it was purely for essentials.

The two men watched as she scanned all that she could see from the doorway, her eyes wide and inviting with each new discovery. They would see kids come in every single day with the same reaction, yet with her it seemed new. It was if she had never seen a toy before.

“Have you eaten yet?” Fred asked, weaving through some unopened boxes to reach the stairs. Even on them there was an endless supply of treats to be found.

“I’m not hungry… thank you.” She followed behind him, slowly, with George closing up the front doors and setting up security wards.

“That wasn’t the question silly,” He laughed, catching up. “Have you eaten tonight?”

“No- but I’m really fine without.”

Once they reached the very top of the long set of stairs, past the ‘staff only’ sign, a door was kicked open in front of her. The apartment inside was a sight for sore eyes, and also the furthest thing from what y/n had envisioned on the walk there.

From how high they had gotten inside the shop, the girl presumed that the flat above had to be pokey and a lot smaller than what she was seeing. It was like a large loft, with brick walls and two levels and these huge windows that looked well over diagon alley. She could see all the lights of muggle London shining amongst the dark sheeted sky.

“My rooms up there, and George is through there.” Fred explained, nodding towards the opening to a small hallway and setting down her things in the excess of open space they had. It was comfortable.

“And here’s your bed!” The other twin exclaimed, throwing himself onto the huge sofa that stretched beneath one of the windows and came out into the room in an L shape. They weren’t lying when they said it was comfortable, because she could tell it was even by looking at it.  

“Right! I, for one, am starving.” Fred announced, walking through to the open kitchen, his footsteps echoing on the floor as he went. “What about you y/n?”

The girl was too busy staring out the window to hear him. She’d never seen the city this way before. Her old house was well out in the country, and the alley didn’t give much of a chance for enchanting views. It seemed as though this was the exception.

“Just make her something, she’s busy.” George chuckled, watching her from the sofa. The girl turned and looked at him confused, but the man just shook his head with a smile. “Nothing important,” He whispered and let her go back to the hypnotising view.

-

As they sat down to eat together, George asked y/n many questions about her life, determined to learn all he could about her in one evening.

“Let her swallow first will you!” Fred huffed, passing her a glass of water so she didn’t choke in the process.

“I was homeschooled all my life, well- up until I moved really.” The girl smiled politely, trying not to go into too much detail with her answers. The two men were so kind, though, that it was hard not to tell them everything she’d been holding in. “So you didn’t finish it all?”

“I left before I got the chance to,”

They nodded in understanding, but she could see the cogs turning in their heads as they both took another bite of their food, all in unison. She snickered a little, enjoying the way they effortlessly put on a show with their mannerisms.

“Did you run away!” They both cried out, startling her as she sat across from them.

“W-well… I um- yes I d-did really.” A wry laugh sounded as she spoke, an out of place sound amongst the shock that displayed over Fred and George’s faces.

“Woah, did something bad happen?”

“George! You can’t just ask that- you don’t have to tell us if you don’t want to y/n.” Fred rolled his eyes at his brother, but the girl felt a sense of relief that they asked, it felt nice to have the chance to tell someone after keeping it to herself all this time. It felt more out of place to not tell them.

“It’s okay,” She chuckled at them both, “My parents weren’t very happy people, and they both kind of kept their lives centered around work. I had no problem with it, either than the lack of freedom I had at home, but it changed when they basically showed me a plan for my life.”

The twins listened intently, nodding along with her words and silently reacting accordingly. They both frowned with the last bit, never hearing of someone having their lives planned out for them before.

“They planned your life? Isn’t that a bit, you know-”

“Controlling,” Fred finished, a look of pity on his face.

“We had different ideas, they wanted me to be a writer at the prophet when I’d shown no interest in journalism or even writing before.”

“That’s mad,” George said in a hushed tone, not wanting to cut her off.

“It was then that I realised the only way I was going to do what I wanted, was if I left. So I just packed my things and came here, hoping to find somewhere to stay with what little money I had. Hannah was nice enough to take me in free of charge, so long as I worked behind the bar for it.”

“Both her and Neville really are saints.” “It’s so much better than I could have asked for, but now they can’t afford it. It’s all understandable, it’s just a pain that I can’t ask my parents for help.”

All the while that she recalled her story, the girl smiled, reminding the men that she was a lot stronger than people might assume. Given what she’d been through, it was amazing that she hadn’t broken down already.

“We’ll figure something out for you, all of us.” Fred smiled, glad to see colour in her cheeks now that she was in the warmth of their loft compared to the drizzly alleyway.

“It’s not the end of the world if your parents don’t support you either, there’s plenty more people in the world who will.” George reassured her, wiping his mouth with a napkin.

“Oh godric yeah,” Fred joined in, “Our folks went bloody mental when they heard this was what we wanted to start up instead of finishing at hogwarts.”

“Do they like it now?” She asked cautiously, feeling a little better knowing that they too skipped out on their academic life.

“They have to, given how well we’ve done.” “It is hard to deny our success,” They chimed like songbirds, the passion they had for their self made business shining through their wide eyes.

It was no surprise that the three of them got on, but as the night progressed quicker than they thought, the new trio found themselves with no awkward silences. The clock above them looked as though it had been enchanted when George finally glanced up at it, amazed to see that they’d been chatting for four hours already.

Only when y/n yawned did the two twins decide it was maybe time to call it quits.

“It’s getting late,” Fred spoke up, not wanting to keep the girl from her much needed sleep. It must have been a long day for her. “I’ll grab you some blankets.”

As he disappeared up into his room to look for something to keep her cosy all night, the girl helped George clear away their mess from dinner.

“I feel awful,” She smiled politely, handing him more plates to place into the sink that was doing all the work for them.

“What for?” The man seemed genuinely surprised.

“We spent all that time talking, but we never decided on what to do with me.” She scoffed, feeling like a child needing their help. “I promise I won’t hang around much longer, I’ll sort something out.”

“Like what?” He didn’t mean to sound harsh, it was more to show her that they were her only option right then.

“I-I’m not sure… sorry.” “Don’t be sorry, we want to help you.”

The door to Fred’s bedroom opened again and they fell into silence, the girl slipping back into the mindset that she was growing into a burden for them. She couldn’t ask anymore of them, they’ve already done enough for her. Then and there, y/n decided she would leave in the morning.

“Bed’s ready!” The shout came from the living room, where blankets had been laid over the sofa beneath the window. “Thought you would enjoy the view here.” Fred added when she came out to see his masterpiece.

“That’s hardly a bed!” George scoffed, laughing at the copious amount of cushions he’d left for her head, all different colours and sizes.

“It’ll be perfect, thank you.” She smiled, her eyes sparkling under the city lights that spilled into the room. It didn’t even matter that they would reflect against the ceiling as she slept, it looked like stars.

“As long as you like it then,” George muttered, eyeing his brother who clung onto a smug grin.

“Goodnight y/n, sleep well.”

“Night y/n.” They both smiled, turning to head off to their respective rooms as she opened up her case to look for something to sleep in.

“Night Fred, night George… thank you again, for all of this.” They both nodded at her words and disappeared, leaving her to change in the dark loft, only a small lamp beside her lighting her way to the sofa.

She clicked it off, casting lumos and stumbling over the fluffy rug to curl beneath the many layers of covers that Fred had left her. The girl chuckled to herself, peeling one off and folding it in a neat pile on the floor. Two would be just fine for one night.

It didn’t take long for her to drift off to sleep, the whole day’s nonsense catching up on her and slipping her body into a mini-coma. Her mind ran and slowed all at once, memories of nights she would spend in her childhood bed, reading books for hours on end until she’d fall asleep with the pages sprawled open beside her.

Many nights she would hear her parents scream at one another, that harrowing wailing sound would echo for hours until both of them grew tired and they decided to sleep apart yet again. That’s when she knew she could relax, she could finally do all the things that she wouldn’t have time for in the day between her tutor’s classes and meaningless chores.

She had been a night owl, revelling in the time she got to be truly alone, when the house slept she would come alive. Now, she couldn’t stay awake even if she wanted to. She needed to sleep, and fast.

Y/n vaguely heard a door opening and closing, unsure whether it was real or her mind replaying memories all too vividly. Either way, her eyes were far too heavy to open themselves and check. It could wait.

-

Fred cursed himself for not catching his bedroom door behind him, the noise booming across the loft. He waited, frozen at the top of the steps, watching to see if the girl would rouse at the sound. But he was in luck, she didn’t move a muscle.

He padded down to the bottom, making sure each step was lighter than the last as he headed into the small corridor. George jolted awake the second his door was opened, reaching for his lamp to see who was intruding on his sleep.

“What the fuck!” He almost shouted.

“Shut up! She’s sleeping in there!” Fred hissed, walking over to the empty side of the bed and sitting down calmly.

“So was I you git- what the hell are you doing, since when did we start sleeping together?”

“Disgusting-”

“I didn’t mean that,” George rubbed his eyes with a grimace and reluctantly sat up, “What do you want then?” His voice finally hushed to match his brother’s.

“I have an idea,” Fred started.

“Yes,” “Well, I’ve been thinking about y/n-” “If this is you coming to tell me about another sex dream, I don’t wanna know, okay?”

“Will you just shut up and listen to me,”

“Fine, fine, go on.” He pulled the covers over his bare chest, feeling suddenly exposed to the cold night’s air.

“Well, we’ve been saying for ages that we need someone to work in the shop, except we can’t really afford it right now.” Fred explained, and George nodded along. “Look, y/n needs somewhere to stay, but she would never stay here without giving us some sort of payment, right?” The man’s head looked like it was on a spring as he took in the words. “So, why don’t we let y/n stay here with us and in return she can help out in the shop?”

“Do you think she’d agree to that?” “It was basically the same agreement she had with Neville and Hannah, except we have no reason to get rid of her.”

“I suppose so,” He didn't sound overly convinced.

“She needs somewhere to stay, we need someone to work, it’s a win-win situation!” Fred exclaimed, smiling like a mad man to try and convince his brother that their plan could work out.

“Okay, fine. We can ask her in the morning.”

“Great, I knew you’d say yes.” “Well it’s not like she’s the worst person to live with, it hardly took much to sway me.”

“Not the worst person? Come on George, she’s great!” Fred, admittedly, got a bit too excited at this. His voice ringing out louder than he’d wanted it to.

“You have had a sex dream haven’t you?” “Oh shut up!” “Was she in it,” George teased, prompting his brother to get up and head for the door. “So i’m taking that as a yes.” He turned the light off, hearing one last hiss from Fred before the door shut behind him.

“Aren’t you forgetting the time you had a sex dream about Mcgonnogall?” Fred quipped, leaving quickly as not to get a beating up from the other twin, who was mentalling cursing himself for ever revealing that fact when they were drunk one time.

[george-fabian-weasley]

Bill Weasley — Intoxicating

Summary: Bill Weasley had picked up a habit of smoking from his peers in Egypt. When he came back to Britain for summer, he met you in a fancy restaurant, as his barista.

Words: 3,415

Warnings ⚠ : Floofy Stuff, Cute, Sexual Tension, I Don't Write Smut so None of Them, Bill Weasley being Deviously Charming

Disclaimer: Domhnall Gleeson can run me over and I would thank him this man is sO FINE

"William, you're home!" Molly's voice echoed around the Burrow and Bill laughed as he engulfed the small woman, "Missed you, Mum."

The rumbles of stairs indicated his other family members running down to see him. Upon knowing them for years, he could predict the one who comes down first would be-

"Ah, Ickle Billiekins!" Two grown men engulfed him in a bro hug, and Bill chuckled, "Fred. George. How's the shop going?"

Fred smiled in triumph, "Splendid! We're planning to open our second franchise soon in London!

"Bill!" Ginny pushed away from the twins and hugged him, the complaints of the twins were visible. "Ginny! How are you, lil sis?"

Being the only sister he had, Ginny has a special place in his heart. Everybody knows how spoiled she is with him. The ten-year difference between them doesn't help either.

After catching up with the rest of the family, The Weasleys had a celebratory dinner to celebrate Bill being home for the summer. Ginny and Ron even invited Harry and Hermione, whom Bill knew pretty well because of the war a few years ago.

Molly being the lovable mum she is, kept adding food to his plate, Bill had to ask help from Arthur with pleading eyes. "Now, now, Molly dear, we don't want Bill to have indigestion now, do we?"

"But he's so thin now! Oh, what have they been feeding you at Egypt?"

Bill chuckled, "Mum, I've been like this since Hogwarts."

Molly gave him a motherly smile, "Oh alright. How's Egypt?" She changed the topic, and Bill had never been more grateful, his stomach almost exploded.

Hours after dinner ended, Bill stepped out of the Burrow to puff out a smoke or two. He heard someone opening the door and closing it, footsteps nearing him and Bill was pleasantly surprised to see Harry Potter, the hero a few years ago who defeated the bloody wizard Voldemort.

"You smoke?" He asked in bewilderment. Bill inhaled and kept it in, feeling the nicotine in his system for as long as he could before exhaling the white semi-dense smoke. He kept his views to the tall grass field in front of him, "Got it from my peers back in Egypt. Thought it's a good distraction, and it is."

"Distraction from what?"

"Thinking. So many thoughts and not all of them are pretty. Especially if you have 6 younger siblings and two aging parents." Bill confessed, finally looking at Harry with a small smile, "And now two troublesome future in-laws."

Harry chuckled and diverted his eyes from Bill, a heavy blush at the nickname, "Maybe later, I reckon. Ginny's focusing on her career first and I as an Auror. We have no time for a wedding."

Bill snorted, "Why are you acting like we didn't have Charlie's wedding in the middle of chaos 3 years ago?"

The two men burst into laughter. Looking back, it was amusing to have a wedding ceremony out of nowhere, especially if the night before someone just died- ehem, mad-eye, ehem- anyway. The laughter died down, and comfortable silence began. Harry was looking up to the stars, sighing, "We sure do have a lot of adventures here."

Bill shrugged, "I've been having adventures since I was born, Harry. Adding you into the family isn't that special," He teased and Harry rolled his eyes playfully.

Bill took a final puff and exhaled loudly, dropping the almost finished cigarette to the ground and stepped on it a few times, no one wants a random fire in the middle of the night.

Harry walked back in first, but then he turned back and said, "Maybe you're not the only one getting an in-law soon."

Bill snorted, Harry was referring to Bill about marriage, "Maybe," He said, didn't really want to jinx anything if he says no. Harry smiled at him and entered the Burrow, leaving him alone.

Bill sighed, looking down to the dead roll of cigarette on the ground, "Maybe," He whispered, even when he knew it's not likely.

A few days after that night, Bill got an owl from his peers from Egypt. They invited him to a fancy party in a muggle restaurant in London, something about celebrating their 10th year working in Egypt.

He sighed quietly, he really doesn't want to go, something about being in a crowd exhausts him. But alas, he figured it would be worthwhile to catch up with his friends and enjoy a drink or two.

Who knows, maybe he could find someone there, although that's nearly impossible. Not that Bill cared about blood status, it's more to the scar on his face from Greyback a few years ago.

Who would date a scar-face?

Bill smiled bitterly, this thought kinda hurt him a little bit, but he let it tear down his mood no further. He has a party tonight to attend anyway. A fancy one.

That evening, Bill had whipped out the fanciest suit he could find and had Transfigured his hair into the color of dark brown, for fun. Molly, of course, had her disagreement as ginger hair has become a trademark of a Weasley for so long, but Bill had reassured her it's only for the night.

"Looking fancy, eh? Have a date somewhere?" George teased his older brother, the eldest just chuckled and shook his head, "Got a party at a fancy restaurant in London, had to dress my best."

"Ouch Billie, already forgetting to be a Weasley?" Fred chimed in, faking a hurt expression with his hand on his left chest. Bill rolled his eyes playfully, his dark brown hair sure did look weird after years having ginger as the hue of his hair, "Sod off, Freddie."

"Well, I think you look handsome, Bill," Ginny said suddenly, walking towards her older brother to fix his tie. Bill looked at her in triumph and glared at the twins, "Finally, someone on my side,"

Ginny chuckled and patted his chest when she was done, "I'll always be on your side. Just don't wear it too long, don't want you to forget you're a Weasley."

Bill chuckled and kissed her forehead, "Yes, ma'am."

Apparating to the alley behind the bar, Bill walked in the party looking ravishingly stunning, although he sort of regretting the new color on his head.

"William!" Shouts from his peers made him smile ear to ear. The night was celebrated with a few drinks here and there, Bill had a wonderful time catching up with his friends.

But a few hours later, the said friends had separated into different corners with their partners, leaving Bill, the only one who doesn't have a partner, to be alone.

Bill clicked his tongue, the sudden feeling of wanting to smoke was strong. He hadn't associated himself with this many muggles before. Nevertheless, they're all human beings in the end, magic or not. He checked his watch, it's a quarter past 10, the night is still young.

And so Bill went to the bar section of the restaurant, wanting some alone time from many people. He fished out the cigarette box from his pocket and took one, placing it in between his lips.

Bill inwardly groaned as he remembered he couldn't use magic to light up his cigarette, there are way too many muggles to witness and honestly, he doesn't want to go to Court, especially when the government is still corrupted even after years of Voldemort gone.

He patted around his suit, hoping there is somehow a box of matches resting inside one of his many pockets. The cigarette between his lips was starting to get wet.

Suddenly he heard a flicker, and Bill was met face to face with a tiny light of fire.

Strange, the fire was resting on top of a metallic box with a lid. Bill blinked, and that's when he properly see you.

His eyes met yours, and for the first time in years, Bill Weasley was speechless. It was only when you shook the tiny fire on your hand slightly that he realized that he was staring.

He quickly leaned into the fire to light up his cigarette, nodding to you in gratitude. He took a long inhale, relaxing as the toxic substance entered his system. He exhaled and looked at you with a smile, "Thank you."

You quirked an eyebrow at him, "Did you forgot to bring your lighter or something?" You said, and Bill was slightly surprised at how easily you sparked up a conversation with him.

"I beg your pardon?" He said, and you nudged to the metallic box in your hand, flickering the light up once again, "A lighter. You forgot to bring it?"

So it's called a lighter. Fascinating. Bill thought as he chuckled, "Sort of," he said, not really wanting to say his 'lighter' is a spell.

"Anything you want to drink?" You asked, and that's when Bill realized you were over the other side of the counter, and you were wearing a white blouse and a patterned dark red vest over it. Ah, you're a barista.

Your hair was put on a low ponytail, and Bill suddenly missed his long red hair. Curse this brown short hair.

Bill hold his cigarette in between his index and middle finger, "Just water, please." You raised an eyebrow, "Water? Really?"

Bill chuckled at your teasing demeanor, and you were surprised at how he wasn't offended by your jokes. Your usual customers would usually tell you to shut the fuck up and bring them drinks quietly.

"Home was quite far from here. Don't want to drive home dead drunk now, do we?" Bill chimed, a genuine smile was on his lips. He wasn't this friendly around strangers, but there was this vibe around you that tells him to loosen up and enjoy his time.

You smiled at his remark, he was the friendliest customer of the night so far. "Oh c'mon, you're sitting on a bar! Surely you'll drink something." You said with a playful toothy grin. Once again, Bill chuckled, "Alright then. A glass of wine please."

"Atta boy," You quietly cheered and got to work. Bill watched you silently, occasionally bringing his cigarette onto his lips, somehow the nicotine wasn't as strong as before, now that you're here.

He couldn't pinpoint what was it, but you were... Charming.

"I've never seen you before," You struck up a conversation with Bill again once you delivered his glass of wine. This man before you was ravishingly stunning, would be quite a waste if you just watch this masterpiece from afar.

You could say he was the most handsome man you've ever laid eyes on. Even with that scar on his face. The long trailing scar from his temple to his cheek was intimidating at first sight, but when you look at it longer, it's only a scar, nothing more.

If anything, it makes this man before you look more mysterious than he should be.

"I'm from Devon, actually. My friends thought it would be a good idea to have a party here for our 10th-year celebration working at our workplace." You widened your eyes in, letting out a surprised laugh, "Blimey, 3-hour drive for a party?"

Bill shrugged his eyebrows, 'Huh, 3 hours.'

He sipped on his wine and gestured at the bar with his chin, "How long have you been working here... Y/N?" He asked, his eyes lingering on your name tag before coming in contact with your eyes.

You blinked, oh lord give me strength.

The way he said your name was beyond lovely, as if he's saying such poetic words. And the way he looked at you isn't really that much of a help. You felt heat rushing in your cheeks as you turned around to the alcohol collection, not letting this fine man before you see your blush.

"About 3 years already? Got to make money somehow to live," You said nonchalantly, when another customer ordered a drink. You got to it right away fast, wanting to talk more with the mysterious man whose name you didn't even know.

As if reading your thoughts, he said, "I'm William, but my friends and family call me Bill."

You chuckled and throw him a playful look, "Where did Bill come from out of William?" The remark made him laugh, the sides of his eyes crinkled. You smiled in triumph at the successful attempt of making Bill laugh.

"I honestly have no idea," Bill chuckled and inhaled more of the cigarette between his fingers, the nicotine felt less effective by now.

You stood in front of him, with the wooden bar table between you, biting your lip, "And what should I call you? William," You trailed off, feeling the energy between you shifted from light to somehow heavy.

"Or Bill?" You muttered loudly, giving him a slight smirk.

Bill felt it, the energy shift. And for the first time, he didn't mind. "Well," He started, putting the cigarette onto the ash box, killing it instantly. He took the glass wine, swirling it slightly to make the wine well mixed, and right before he sipped the dark liquid, he looked at you, "Surprise me."

You watched him drink the wine with his eyes on you the whole time, and the action made the butterflies in your stomach came alive.

"Y/L/N! No flirting with customers!" The shout from your manager made you flinch in surprise. You looked to the side, your manager looking at you sternly with his hands at his waist.

You smiled mischievously, "But boss, I don't think we're flirting!" You said with fake innocence, batting your eyelashes innocently. You turned to Bill, smiling in a way Bill was reminded of his cheeky twin brothers at home, "Were we flirting, Bill?"

Bill smiled widely with his front teeth on his lower lip, you're something else, Y/N.

"Were we? I can't remember," He chimed in, giving your boss the same innocent smile, making your own smile widen. The boss rolled his eyes and left, leaving you both by yourselves.

A moment of silence before laughter erupted from both of you. "What time does your shift end?" Bill asked as soon as he calmed down, a genuine smile on his lips.

You raised your eyebrows in surprise, "At 12," You voiced out, trying so hard to contain your smile. Bill's smile got wider at the sight of your blushed cheeks, "Alright, I'll be here till 12."

"You sure we're not flirting, Bill?" You said playfully. Bill bit his lower lip and looked up at you, "I don't know, Y/N. You tell me,"

"Oh, you're good at this," You breathed out and nodded, impressed by his flirting skills. Bill chuckled and shook his head, "Sometimes. There's just something about you that makes it easier."

The entire two hours were filled with conversations and laughter, some occasionally constantly flirting here and there, but needless to say, Bill was having a great time with you.

You were charming, funny, witty, and absolutely gorgeous in his eyes. He forgot for a moment, that you can see his scar on the side of his face.

Not that you minded it. Bill was everything. He's a gentleman with a beautiful smile and an amazing sense of humor, mysteriously alluring.

By the time the clock starked 12, Bill stood up from his seat and then you realized how tall he was from you. If before he was looking up to you, now it's completely the opposite. Bill had an amused expression over your sudden realization of his height.

"I'll wait for you outside," He said and you nodded with a smile, already tearing off your vest.

The party was long forgotten, some of his friends had already gone home before he even realized it. Once he was outside, he took out another cigarette and snapped his finger, instantly lighting it up. He took a long inhale, warming his system up to fight off the cold air of London. He exhaled and sighed, the cold mist now mixed with the smoke, making it denser than it should be.

Bill then realized he was supposed to be with you later, and a guy with a bad breath is the last impression he wanted you to have of him. And so he reluctantly threw away the barely finished cigarette, crushing it with the bottom of his shoe.

Just then, you came out and walked to him, looking casual with a beanie on top of your head and hair let down from the ponytail before. "Hello, handsome." You said cheekily with a smile.

He smiled at the sight of you, and with his cold hands, he held yours softly. You halted your movement altogether, now looking eye-to-eye to this beautiful man before you. "I couldn't do this to you before because you're working, but," He said softly, and met your knuckles with his lips, kissing it gently.

"Hi."

The blush in your cheeks was prominent, and you felt like a high-school girl all over again, "Hi," You said shyly.

You suddenly felt some sort of courage running through your veins, because without thinking, you grabbed his tie and pulled it towards you, making him closer to you.

"I may have a few shots before coming out here so please don't mind me," You muttered quickly as you pulled him into a kiss. Bill was pleasantly surprised and kissed you back. The makeout turned heated quickly, Bill had to contain himself as he suddenly found a new hunger for your taste.

Whiskey, and smoke.

It was intoxicating. When you pulled away, you were both panting. You later giggled at the sudden courage before, and your laugh being contagious, he started chuckling on his own. Bill was holding your waist tightly, touching as much skin as he could while you had your arms wrapped around his neck.

Never would he thought a few minutes later that he would be running while holding your hand, laughing with each other as you dragged him to your apartment.

Bill had already loosened his tie and tossed his suit around somewhere by the time you're opening the door. He turned you around suddenly from the door and gave you another hungry kiss. You were pressed between the door and him, and you didn't mind.

Reluctantly pulling away giggling, you opened the door sloppily, your mind still hazy by Bill's kiss.

He was a bloody excellent kisser, holy fuck.

The door slammed shut behind you two, and the kissing continued. It was safe to say, Bill Weasley didn't come home that night.

By the time morning came along, you woke up being wrapped around Bill. His naked arms wrapping around your waist and his leg around yours. You smiled and looked up to him, and was surprised at his long red hair.

You chuckled, shaking your head. You trailed kissed from his freckled chest to his neck, making him humming in content. "Good morning, sweetheart," He said groggily. You giggled at his sleepy attempt of kissing your nose.

You reached your hand to caress his long hair and sighed in content, "You know, you could've told me your real hair is ginger."

He hummed sleepily, "Mmm, yeah-wait, what?" He snapped his eyes open and reached for his hair. Indeed, ginger and shoulder length.

He sat up suddenly, looking everywhere but at you, "I-I can explain." He stuttered.

I knew it was a bad idea, he groaned.

He stopped when he saw you looking up to him with amusement, your arm supporting your head, and your hair falling slightly to the side you're leaning on.

"Why aren't you freaking out?" He asked. You smiled, "I know you're a wizard, Bill. Or should I say, Bill Weasley?"

Bill scoffed in surprise, his tense shoulder relaxed, "Why didn't you tell me you knew?"

You sat up, revealing your naked upper body that you had presented to Bill the night before, and kissed him on the cheek, "I figured it wouldn't be fun if I let you know so soon, so I figured I should play along."

Bill was supposed to feel offended, you did lie to him after all. But all he could find in his heart was warmth. He smiled gently, cupping your face and kissing your lips softly.

"You're something else, you know that?" He stifled a laugh as he said it. You joined his laughter and caress his cheek, leaning your forehead together.

"I know."

[theclockworkmonk]

Out of the Mouths of Babes — Chapter 3

Read on AO3

Read on FF.net

Chapter 1 on Tumblr

Chapter 2 on Tumblr

Written for Hinny Ficfest 2021 (I know it's unacceptable I'm still working on this, but I got distracted by other prompts)

Prompt: “Uncle Ron said something about Harry knocking Ginny up, but I don’t know what he means,” Teddy said.

******

Harry and Ginny landed on the path leading up through the Burrow's garden, and they were already feeling more at home than they even felt in their own flat. They approached the door to the kitchen smiling and holding hands, but before Ginny could reach the doorknob, the door flew open and the fast, blurry form of her mother tackled her into a crushing hug that knocked the wind out of Ginny.

"Oh my girl!" Molly Weasley sobbed into her daughter's shoulder. "My dear little girl!"

"Mum!" Ginny gasped weakly, swatting her mother's back as she started to feel light headed. "Mum! Air!"

Molly finally released her and Ginny took a gasping breath.

"Is something wrong, Mrs. Weasley?" Harry asked quickly, his expression quickly becoming focused and alert.

"Yeah, is there another Dark Lord already? Bloody hell," said Ginny, rubbing her crushed ribs.

"Oh no, no, it's nothing," Molly sniffed, waving dismissively with one hand and wiping tears away from her eyes with the other. "I'm just so happy to see you both, it's been weeks."

"It's been exactly three weeks for Ginny, Mrs. Weasley, and one week for me," Harry pointed out. He had never seen her react so fiercely, even when seeing her children for the first time after being away at school for a year."

"Oh you know me, just being silly," chuckled Molly. "Come on in, dinner is almost ready."

The three of them entered the kitchen, and Harry reflexively reached for his wand as his fledgling Auror senses kicked in. The atmosphere in the room was nearly identical to what he had felt in interrogation rooms. Every man in the room was looking either angry or nervous, with the exception of George, who was biting his knuckle and looking like he was trying not to laugh. He tried to meet Ron's eyes, but his best friend was too distracted by his mother's famous scones. Hermione greeted him with a grateful smile, and Harry got the impression that she had noticed it too. She was the only one who hadn't touched her firewhiskey, tapping the glass with her finger nervously.

After fidgeting for a few seconds, Percy shot up out of his seat, looking too antsy to keep still, and approached the newcomers with two glasses of firewhiskey in his hands. "Er...care for a drink?"

"...Sure," said Harry cautiously, "Thanks." He took the glass offered to him.

Ginny assumed the other glass was for her, and her hand moved an inch to take it, but before she could, Percy turned away and kept it for himself, taking the largest gulp that Ginny had ever seen him take.

Ginny huffed and pursed her lips. Apparently, after bloody everything, her brothers still saw her as just a kid, to the point where it didn't even occur to them that maybe she wanted a stiff drink too. She was just about to let them all know exactly what she thought of that, when the second frantic mother in as many minutes accosted her.

"Ginny!" cried Fleur loudly as she entered from the sitting room, holding Victoire in her arms, presumably after feeding the baby upstairs. Fleur made a beeline for Ginny and tackled her into a one-armed hug, then planted two hard kisses on either of her cheeks.

"Er….nice to see you too," said Ginny uncomfortably, her face turning red. Ginny and Fleur had gotten friendlier since the war ended, but this level of affection was certainly unheard of.

"You are beautiful, Ginevra," said Fleur with a beaming smile, "Radiant! Come, I 'ave somezing upstairs I need your 'elp with."

"Fleur…" said Bill, his voice laced with warning.

"I just need 'elp wiz ze packing," she said dismissively, handing her daughter to her husband. Before Ginny could express displeasure at being roped into work before she could say a word to her family, Fleur had taken her by the hand and begun leading her up the stairs. They stopped at Bill and Charlie's old bedroom, which by now was more of a storage space to shove things the family didn't have a space for. When Fleur opened the door, Ginny saw the old beds covered in several wardrobes worth of colorful, expensive-looking outfits. Ginny recognized them as Fleur's maternity clothes.

"I am finally getting to packing away all of zis," Fleur explained, pointing towards several open cardboard boxes. "Ze sorting should go faster with ze two of us."

"Okay," said Ginny uncertainly, "Why now? And do you want me specifically?"

"Oh, well," Fleur shrugged, "Eet just seemed the right time, zey 'ave been sitting up here for ages. And I am letting Bill spend time with his brozzers, and your maman….well, it is best if ze two of us avoid zis topic, or she will be lamenting zat I will not be putting all zis to use again soon enough."

"Ugh, I know," Ginny groaned. "She really has been smothering you, hasn't she?"

That was enough to make Ginny sympathize with her sister-in-law, and she set to work sorting, folding, and packing away the absurd mountain of clothes. Of course Fleur had to invest in a whole new wardrobe for just a few months, all from the same high-end French designers she got all her clothes from.

Ginny chuckled and shook her head.

"What is funny?" asked Fleur.

"It's just...maternity clothes are supposed to be frumpy, right? But even your maternity clothes are more glamorous and sexy than what I wear normally," Ginny laughed.

"Oh. Well…" Fleur said in a sing-song voice, "Eef you see anyzing zat you liiiike…."

"I don't think it would make much difference if they sat in my closet for several years instead of yours," laughed Ginny. "Hermione's the one who's already engaged, she's probably the one who will need these next."

There was a beat of silence, so Ginny looked up from the clothes she was folding towards Fleur, and was surprised to see the other woman looking at her with sadness and disappointment, chewing her painted lip with worry.

"Ginny…" Fleur said softly, gently squeezing Ginny's shoulder. "I like to zink zat we 'ave become closer zese last few years. I 'ope zat we can trust one anozzer. We can tell each ozzer zings and know zat eet will stay between us."

Ginny blinked at Fleur silently. "Er...thanks, Fleur, that...means a lot."

Fleur smiled again, but was still looking at Ginny expectantly, like she expected her to say something equally earnest, and the younger witch was growing more uncomfortable.

"Well, uh, anyway, I don't want to sound like my mum, but it is kind of surprising you're packing these away," Ginny said forcefully, trying to change the subject as she turned back to the clothes. "I never figured you and Bill would stop at one. I always pictured you having a whole proper Weasley litter. If nothing else, you need to have more just so that Vic isn't the only grandchild anymore, so she's not doted to death by my mum."

"Oh, zere is plenty of time for more children for us in years to come," said Fleur, waving her hand, "...and as for Victoire being ze only grandchild," she elbowed Ginny in the ribs playfully, "a leetle bird told me zat she will not 'ave zat title for long."

Ginny jerked so violently she nearly ripped the expensive blouse she was holding, spinning to face Fleur with her eyes wide and her mouth gaping. She saw that mischievous glint in Fleur's eye that she alway got when she had a piece of family gossip.

"WHAT!?" Ginny shrieked. "Who — how do you know—"

"Shhh," Fleur placed a finger against Ginny's lips. "Zere is no need to say anyzing." She gave the confused girl a cheeky wink and continued with the clothes as if she hadn't just dropped a world-shattering bomb on her poor sister-in-law. Ginny's heart was pounding and her mind was racing, which Fleur was no doubt aware of and was thoroughly enjoying having a piece of gossip that Ginny was desperate for.

But Ginny wasn't going to give her the satisfaction of begging for it. It couldn't be that hard to figure out who Fleur was talking about.

Percy hadn't had a single date since the war ended, as far as Ginny knew. He was still beating himself up for abandoning the family to think he deserved anything good in his life.

George had been spending a lot of time with Angelina lately, but they weren't even officially together yet. And if they had that kind of accident, Fleur wouldn't be the first in the family to know about it. George might have gone to Bill for advice, but Bill would take that seriously enough to not share it with anyone, even his wife.

Charlie couldn't have kids since the incident with the angry Ukrainian Ironbelly.

But that would only leave…

Ginny gasped and covered her mouth with her hands. It all made sense now. Ron suddenly talking about leaving the Aurors just to work in the joke shop. That completely clashed with the Ron she knew, who hated being put on the sidelines while others were in danger, and who hated being in the twins' shadow even more…

But it made perfect sense if he needed a less dangerous job with more stable hours. Something one would want if they were expecting a baby.

Fleur looked regretful about pushing Ginny's buttons, and put a gentle hand on her shoulder.

"I did not mean to upset you, Ginny," she said softly, "forget I said anyzing."

Ginny idly nodded, but knew that she could never "forget" something like this.

Hermione Granger, the brightest witch of her age, one of Ginny's best friends, was pregnant.

[uwuwriting]

Bakugou and Todoroki w/ future kids but they meet the reader first

Request: I know you just wrote the future kids thing but I never see the reverse scenario happen where the kid meets the reader. But maybe because they're young or the reader isn't with the boi (Bakugou in this case who doesn't have a hero name yet and maybe the reader doesn't either) The kid keeps saying his parents hero names until he finally runs into Bakugou. The kid didn't realize the reader was the mom until they stood next to Bakugou. - anonymous 

I really enjoyed writing the future kids requests mainly because they were the cutest along side some dad requests I got recently. So I chose these two since we don’t have hero names for them and you didn’t specify any characters so yeah. If you want me to write for others please don’t hesitate to ask. Love yaa.💖💖💖

warnings: fluff, some mild panic

Bakugou Katsuki

-You had gone shopping with Tsuyu and Ochako but had parted ways when the girls had been called in from their agencies. 

-Making your way back to the dorms, you were vibin along with your music when you felt a small tug at your pant leg.

-Looking down you were met with a pair of small e/c eyes staring back at you with a few stray ash blonde locks swaying along the autumn breeze. 

-The little figure stared at you for a moment, a poker face adorning his features before he spoke. 

- “Excuse me, do you know where the Ground Zero agency is?”

-You had never heard of such an agency and kneeling down you looked at the small boy.

- “I’m sorry sweetheart but I don’t know an agency by that name. Who are your parents? Maybe we can find them.”

-The boy looked at you with confusion and some irritation sprinkled on top, for a few moments before letting out a sigh and telling you that his parents were pro heroes.

-His mother apparently was on a mission across seas so they couldn’t really contact her  but his dad, the number two hero , Ground Zero  would definitely help. 

-At first you thought that the boy was confused since the number two hero right now was Hawks and you didn’t know anyone by that hero name. 

-And you told the boy that he was wrong but he was adamant, insisting that his daddy was number two.

-When you mentioned Hawks he titled his little head to the side and said rather matter of factly that Hawks had retired long before he was born.

-That was weird to say the least.

-With everything that the boy told you you were beyond confused and you decided to take him to Aizawa, thinking it was the best course of action. 

-Offering the boy your hand he hesitantly took it saying that his mommy always said that he shouldn’t trust strangers. 

- “But you look very familiar so I trust you. Kinda.”

-And with that you walked hand in hand to the dorms with the intention to find Aizawa in his room.

-Along the way however you heard yelling coming from the common room and you mentally prepared yourself for the tantrum that Katsuki must be throwing in there. 

-Halting your steps you leaned down to the boy ready to prepare him for what was to come only to be met with an ecstatic little human chanting ‘daddy’ under his breath.

-His eyes were practically shinning while he was making mini hops here and there, trying to mask his excitement. 

-If you were being honest he reminded you of yourself when you get fired up but his appearance practically screamed Bakugou at you.

-You have had a crush on Katsuki for some time now but you’ve attempted to drown your feelings and save yourself the humiliation and heart break. 

-Key word: attempted.

- “You excited there kiddo?”

-He looked up at you with a large smile on his tiny face.

- “That sounds like my daddy! Mommy always says that shouting might be part of his quirk and every time she says that, daddy and I need to tickle her until she takes it back.”

- “Well if your father is anything like the baka you are about to meet than god help your mother.” you mumbled under your breath, the boy too excited to pay attention to you, as you pushed the door open and stepped inside. 

-You made to walk to Aizawa’s room when his voice boomed through the room. 

- “Oi this isn’t a nursery. What are you doing?” 

- “Shut it Bakugou!’

- “Did you kidnap the kid? ‘Cause it seems that he’s trying to get away from your dumbass.”

-He wasn’t wrong. 

-The boy was trying to leave your grasp that you had unconsciously tightened when you started talking with Bakugou.

-The little boy looked back at you and mouthed ‘That’s daddy!!!’ before prying your hand off of his wrist and running to the couch that Bakugou was sitting. 

-He looked at the child with a scowl on his face, his eyes darting over the boys’ features noticing some resemblances to himself but also some of your characteristics. 

-The kid certainly had his hair and face structure but his eyes, nose and mouth were all you. 

-And don’t get him started on that cute grin he had on his face that was a carbon copy of the one you have. 

-Bakugou hated to admit that he had a crush on you. 

-You had caught his eye when you had roasted him during your first week of school and you two had been bickering back and forth ever since, feelings starting to develop on both sides but neither of you being brave enough to actually confess. 

- “Y/N why the hell is your brother looking at me like that?”

-At that the boy snapped his head to you, eyes wide and mouth slightly agape the grin he adorned just a few seconds ago being replaced by a really confused look. 

- “He’s not my brother, I found him! Now if you’ll excuse us I have to find Aizawa and clear things out.”

-The boy didn’t move an inch as you approached him, his eyes fixated on your face and as you leaned forward to grab him he wrapped both his arms around your neck and manhandled you onto the couch, making you fall on top of Katsuki. 

-The blushes on your faces were legendary.

-The kid was staring at you two and suddenly jumped on top of BOTH of you making Katsuki groan.

- “Mommy, mommy i thought you were in America with auntie Mina! Why did you pretend you didn’t know me? Why is daddy so small? Where are we?”

-Bakugou was staring at the kid shooting question after question as you on the other hand were on the brink of passing out from the word mommy. 

- “Oi, oi slow down. What’s your name shrimp?”

-He looked at Katsuki with a frown before roll his eyes and answering. 

- “Bakugou Tatsuo you old man.”

-They had to bring you to Recovery girl because you passed out and both Bakugou men were panicking.

Todoroki Shouto

-You didn’t know what hit you really. 

-You were lounging outside on your balcony enjoying the view the dorms gave you when you heard shouting from above you before you were frozen in place and a little ball of red hair came tumbling down the ice slide.

-It almost slammed against your glass door but stopped just on time, shaking the frost from the red locks. 

-As the child turned to you, her eyes widened and she quickly let out a string of sorry’s as she defrosted you, messing up her words many times and confusing the r with w.

-It was the cutest thing watching this five year old at best trying to melt her ice, her chubby hands resting on the iceberg as her nose scrunched up in concentration. 

-Eventually the ice melted and you were set free, rubbing your arms for some warmth as you looked at the child on your balcony more closely. 

- “I’m so sorry miss, I didn’t see you!!”

- “Well you were falling from the sky so I find it logical.”

-The little girl fidgeted with her fingers looking around in pure confusion, her lower lip trembling at the unfamiliar scenery in front of her. 

-Despite the clear panic in her gaze she held herself together, dawning a poker face soon after and looking at you straight in the eyes, her gaze feeling awfully familiar. 

- “I’m Rei. Nice to meet you.”

-She extended her hand and you were taken aback from her manners and the fact that you were being owned by a toddler. 

-Taking her small hand in yours you shake it and lead her inside, placing her on your bed and sitting across from her on your chair. 

-You stared at each other for a solid five minutes before you broke the silence with some basic questions. 

-How old she was, how she got here, where are her parents.

- “A kid got his quirk and things got out of hand. But my daddy will know what to do!! He’s a pro hero.”

- “Oh what’s his hero name? Maybe I can take you to him.”

- “Icyhot, he has an agency in the city but I don’t know how to get there.”

-At the sound of that name you were confused again. 

-Icyhot is Bakugou’s way of mocking Todoroki, your long time crush, and as far as you know there is no hero with that name,

-As you looked at the girl again you saw some similarities with Shouto.

-The hair and the poker face along with her quirk and some of her mannerisms scream Shouto.

-Even though her hair was the same color as his, she looked like you when you were around her age.

-Pushing your confusion in the back of your mind you looked at her again. 

- “Is you daddy Todoroki Shouto?”

-You wished that your first time referring to Shouto as daddy would be under him other circumstances. 

- “Yes!! Do you know him??”

-Oh you knew him alright.

-Nodding you sat up and extended your hand to the little girl, who grabbed it with no hesitation, and led her out of your room.

-And so the mad hunt for Todoroki began.

-Along the way Rei would tell you all kinds of stuff and share funny situations that her and her twin sister got themselves into. 

-Apperantly, Rei had a twin sister Ren and a younger sister who was recently added to the family, Ru. 

-You had been running around the school grounds for like an hour and you could feel Rei getting tired as she slowed down after a while. 

-She didn’t complain though. she just kept talking about her family and how her mom stayed at home for the last few weeks. 

-She was the cutest thing you have seen in a fat while and you could say that you were more than jealous of her mother, whoever she was.

-As you rounded a corner your eye caught sight of a head with vibrant red and white hair.

-And there stood Todoroki in all his glory holding a little girl of his own in his arms, this one with snow white hair.

-The moment Rei saw them she made a mad sprint and literally tackled both of them to the ground, the twins hugging each other like they weren’t suffocating Shouto. 

-You rushed to them, kneeling beside Shouto and prying the twins off of him, giving him a weak smile as you helped him up. 

-As you two stood there, the twins looked at you and something clicked.

-Both of them smiled to themselves and hugged you, nuzzling into yor side as Todoroki stared at you. 

-You all agreed to go to Aizawa or Recovery Girl to see how to get them back home.

-As you made your way to Aizawa’s office the twins were whispering to each other not as quietly as they thought. 

- “Mommy is really pretty.”

- “Yeah and daddy has that smile on his face.”

-You both became a blushing mess unbeknownst to them.

-You sure as hell had a lot to talk about after this. 

-And you’d finally get to call him daddy. 

TAG TEAM AY:

@brattyquirks​ , @the-arcana-fan-fic​

[starglow-xx]

owning a bakery and being discovered by the ada and the port mafia (part 3)

platonic! yosano akiko x f! reader

type of writing: head canons !!

this is part of my head canon series, flour & fluff !!

tag list is open !! go to this google form and fill it out to sign up!

series synopsis: owning a bakery at 20 is tough; even more so when you have to handle members of two opposing organizations! this is your journey to meeting those fools and creating an unlikely bond with each of them. but only at the cost of your peace and sanity.

fandom: bungou stray dogs

content: fluff & platonic stuff but trigger warning!! there may be a sensitive topic for others

*getting grabbed and pulled to an alleyway! alcohol mentioned!*

please remember that yokohama isn’t the friendliest place, especially at night.

previous: part 2 : their beloved president

author’s note: same ages as last time!! (so that means everyone is one year younger than canon; that makes yosano 24)

this one is actually pretty long :0

i got info abt her likes on her wiki page (careful! there’s spoilers!)

and yosano is a queen and no one can tell me otherwise

the doctor is in the house (quite literally)

going grocery shopping was an okay chore in your opinion

it honestly depended on your mood or whatever kind of shit happens when you go shopping

cause like something always, always happens whenever you go do groceries

sometimes it’s good, sometimes it’s bad, and sometimes it’s just plain weird

one time some weirdo proposed to you in the middle of the store asking for a double suicide

he was good looking you’d admit but it’s not like you’d ever see him again

or so you thought

a n y w a y s

every so often, you’d run out of real person food in your apartment

you mostly survive off all of the leftover bakery treats and ingredients—which works out pretty well actually—but bakery supplies unfortunately also run out quite often

and also unfortunately, one time when both fukuzawa & ranpo took a visit to Sakura’s, fukuzawa argued that “no you can’t live off sweets for the rest of your life”

ranpo was scandalized and scrambled to cover your ears

you guys were at it for a while

in the end you sided with fukuzawa causing ranpo to go off about “betrayal from the people he cared most abt” or smth like that

you guys were okay again after bribing him with sweets :)

for bakery supplies you usually have them delivered bc you order them in large quantities bc ahaha no way were you gonna carry like 15-20 50 pound bags of flour no way

when days like those happen, you close up the bakery early so you aren’t walking home when it’s too dark

you scheduled it to happen every first saturday of the month

on those saturdays, you close at 5 instead of at 8

currently, you were at the grocery store looking for basic cooking ingredients such as proteins, vegetables, fruits, and most importantly, snacks

ranpo’s been rubbing off on you

the sun was starting to set and you were walking home with your two bags of groceries when shit went down

tbh you were kinda expecting it cause your grocery run was peaceful for once

but what you weren’t expecting was a wack-a-do to appear out of goddamn nowhere right when you were opening the side door to get to the staircase up to your apartment

like honestly

let a woman do her own thing

the man who grabbed you tried to covered your mouth so you couldn’t scream but you didn’t exactly make it easy for him

you kicked and thrashed around even using the grocery bags—that were somehow still in your hand—as a weapon and the man struggled but he was still bigger than you and was able to bring you to a nearby alley

he reeked of alcohol and you spotted a wedding band on his left hand

not that you cared about the detail in the moment

you kicked him in the groin and in response he let you go only to fall on broken glass that was in the alley way

using the wall to help yourself up, you grabbed a nearby wooden stick and struck him right on his back

your attacker fell and you immediately turned on your heels to escape only to fall back down on the hard cold ground once again

you lift your face up and look back to see the man holding onto your ankle

grabbing a shard of glass—cutting yourself in the process— you begin to swing it at him only for him to easily grip your wrist and stop you

you get ready try and kick him in the groin again but you’re interrupted as your attacker gets sucker punched and flies to wall

you look up to see your savior and you’re blessed to see a beautiful woman, probably not that much older than you are—she’s probably around ranpo’s age— donning a white long sleeve button up, a matching black necktie, knee length skirt, and gloves, along with tights, red heels, and a pretty butterfly clip in her short black hair

but what you really notice is her eyes

ranpo’s eyes were pretty but you like hers just a bit more

you’ve always liked the color magenta

the pretty lady holds out her hand and you take it graciously and thank her as she helps you up

as that’s happening, your attacker gets himself onto his feet and his groan catches both of your attention

he struggles to stand and the pretty lady simples saunters over to him and delivers an uppercut knocking him out cold

you’re stunned and you breathe out a “thank you” making her turn towards you

she notices the condition you’re in

bleeding scrapes on your hands, arms and legs, small rips in your clothes like your tights, blouse, and skirt, and the ruffled state of your hair and clothing

she asks if you live nearby and you tell her that you own the bakery that’s one or two buildings away

when you tell her that, it clicks in her mind that you must be the bakery girl ranpo’s been talking about and the friend fukuzawa was cat sitting for

it’s been abt two weeks since ranpo and fukuzawa first met you and since then, they’ve seen lucky in the office plenty and the boxes of your signature sweets even more

if those two trust you, she has no reason not to

she smiles at you, holds out her hand for you to shake, and introduces herself as the doctor of the armed detective agency

your eyes widen and you smile back at her shaking her hand

“ah! you must be yosano-sensei then! ranpo-san and fukuzawa-san have talked about you! it’s so nice to meet you! im (l/n) (y/n)!”

“they’ve talked about you too, it’s a pleasure to finally meet you (y/n)”

after that exchange she insisted on bringing you home to treat you wounds which you told her it wasn’t necessary

she gave you a pointed look and that was when you realized what state you were in

you sighed and weakly gave in to which she only grinned at

before leaving the alley she walks over to the unconscious man and pulls out his wallet for some sort of identification and home address as you try to see if there’s any groceries still salvageable

after texting the details to kunikida, yosano turns to you poking around the now ruined grocery bags

she simply rubs your back and tells you that the both of you could go buy more groceries together as she was meaning to get some anyways; she even said she’ll pay for you

you refused obviously but she, unknowingly, used the same tactic fukuzawa used with you

“so you’re saying you don’t need groceries?”

“...”

*cue an eyebrow raise from our resident queen*

“...you agency members don’t like making things easy for me huh.”

you gave in reluctantly and at this point you don’t even know why you try negotiating with them

and that’s only three of them

apparently, she was on the other side of the street on the way to buy groceries for the agency when she noticed different produce items on the other sidewalk leading to the alley and she went to check out what happened

ironically, the way to the grocery store from the agency makes you go past Sakura’s but she didn’t realize it until after the two of you had met

before you know it, the two of you are in your apartment kitchen as she cleans and patches up all of your wounds

as she does so the two of you have a little girl talk

you find it quite comforting bc since you opened up Sakura’s you haven’t really had the chance to connect to many people much less other women

you definitely see yosano as your cool, loving, badass older sister

she thinks you’re adorable and agrees with ranpo’s opinion

yup 

that’s right

the opinion that you’re like a little kid </3

you called it a betrayal and all she did was laugh at you <//3

“awhh that’s really cool yosano-sensei!—MFPH?!?”

*squishing your cheeks the same way ranpo did* “ranpo-san was right (n/n)-chan, your cheeks are squishy!”

“?!”

after that small fiasco, the two of you talked some more and bonded over your love for flowers, japanese sweets, and much more!!

you even made a date to have a girls day to go shopping and eat out!

you’re internally squealing a bit bc it’s been a while since you’ve gone shopping

yosano notices and she giggles behind her hand not saying anything bc she knows you’ll only throw a fit

the two of you came around the topic of ranpo when lucky passed by

lucky quickly warmed up to the doctor and cozied up in her lap

“i wish ranpo-san was able to meet lucky when he came by the first time, but then again, he’d probably throw a tantrum if i don’t pay attention to him for 5 seconds”

she snorted at that and like fukuzawa, she shared stories abt the slightly older male

“ranpo-san doesn’t know how to ride a train?”

“unbelievable right?”

“for someone so intelligent i expected more from him”

“i’ll be telling that to ranpo-san, (n/n)-chan”

“wha—?! yosano-sensei please don’t!”

like ranpo, she’s also a tease </3

but you love her anyway <3

eventually, she finished patching you up and promised to treat you to a new set of clothes when the two of you go out

“you don’t need to lose a good set of clothes just because of a sleazy man (n/n)-chan! you deserve better!”

you were going to argue that the rips in your clothes were fairly small and could easily be fixed—except the tights—but you stopped in your tracks when you remembered that it was practically useless to argue against an ada member

the two of you walked to the grocery store and bought both of your needed supplies—along with some extra goodies—and then she walked you back to your place bc it was already a bit dark out

but even if it wasn’t, she would walk you anyways

besides, if anything happened to you, she’s 1000% positive that ranpo and fukuzawa are gonna flip the fuck out not that she wont cause she most definitely will

speaking of which

you were drinking a bottle of water as the two of made your way back to Sakura’s when all of a sudden

“(y/n) you do realize that i have to tell shachou and ranpo-san about what happened today right?”

you choked on your water

“yosano-sensei you can’t! if you do they’ll freak! they won’t leave me alone for at least two weeks! one if im lucky!”

“exactly the point”

you just accepted your defeat already knowing that you’d lose

but maybe you can simmer down their anger towards the bastard with sweets and lucky

you arrived at Sakura’s shortly after and after bringing groceries in, you packaged a bunch of pastries leftover from today—bc you closed early—and bc you’re well aware that ranpo doesn’t share any of the sweets you send him with

you even gave yosano her own special box filled with goodies she loves, and a thermos of fukuzawa’s favorite, your special hot honey lemon tea

other than the sweets, you prepared lucky to spend the night at fukuzawa’s

you really really hoped that doing these things would make them calm down

you shivered at the thought of what their responses would be

you felt really bad for giving yosano all these things to carry and that you were keeping her very late

she assured you that she was fine and that if someone tried to mess with her she’d kick their ass

and after exchanging numbers, the magenta eyed queen bid you a good night and walked back to the agency with lucky walking by her heels

arriving back at the agency, yosano was greeted with some concerns asking if she was alright bc she came back from her grocery run pretty late

(she usually goes in the mornings but today was pretty busy so she left in the late afternoon but now it was already dark)

she waved off the concerns and plopped a couple boxes of your signature bakery boxes at ranpo’s desk, the one for her at her own, the last few boxes in the kitchen for any other agent or clerk to grab, placed the thermos on the desk fukuzawa was by, and picked up lucky and handed him to the president

the two males were pleased with what yosano had brought them, and pleased that another agency member had the chance to meet you

fukuzawa was rubbing lucky and ranpo already snacking on treats as yosano expected

but here comes the hard part

or maybe it’s gonna amusing who knows

“i met (y/n) today.”

“we could tell.”

in goes another treat in the green eyed man’s mouth

“would you like to know how?”

“you bumped into each other, had girl talk, made plans to go out, went grocery shopping, and you brought me and shachou presents.”

“great job ranpo-san, you’re almost completely correct.”

this caught the attention of basically everyone bc they knew ranpo was never “almost completely correct”

“we ended up meeting bc she got attacked on her way home from grocery shopping, i treated her wounds, then we had girl talk and did all the other stuff”

ranpo and fukuzawa froze right in their tracks

“i sent all the info of the bastard to kunikida”

“kunikida.”

“yes shachou”

“find out everything about that man and bring it to me and ranpo”

“...yes shachou”

“and yosano”

“yes?”

“text (y/n) and tell her that her cat, tea, and pastries aren’t going to work as a bribe”

just as you finished taking a shower you sneezed

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to join the tag list, please fill out this google form i made!! please fill it out even if you are already in the tag list! it’ll make things easier for me to keep track of you :)

taglist: @hanniejji​ @timeless-tales46​ @realitycanbeajerk (i didn’t know if you wanted to be in the tag list or not but i tried anyway :)

italicized means it wouldn’t let me tag you