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detectiveichijouji · 1 year ago

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Case 26 - Ken Ichijouji Arrive Trop Tard

[AO3 version]

“Ah they got the rest of the shards…” Arsenemon observed them by distance.

“I hate to be doing this… But do I have any option?”

“... They won’t forgive me, but… la fin justifie les moyens, I guess.”

“I’m sorry, mon ami…”

They left the 10th piece with Koushiro, who put it into a transparent container and away from the digimon… In his office.

“Good job, everyone” Koushiro complimented them with a smile, “But we still need to retrieve the stolen ten from Arsenemon.”

“Yeah, we know that!” Daisuke said seriously, “We need to keep them safe from Arsenemon!”

“You’re back to being fired up, huh…” Miyako teased him.

“We can do this, catch all of them and then save everyone. Arsenemon is our only enemy now.”

“I think he’s too fired up for our tastes,” Tentomon commended, “… Am I wrong?”

“No, but… that’s a little harsh...” the boy laughed nervously.

“Don’t worry, Koushiro-san” Iori said with a deadpan, “If Daisuke-san does something stupid we will be here to prevent him.”

“H-hey, I won’t-- But if I do, please stop me anyway.”

“That’s a weird thing to say” Patamon commented, everyone agreed.

“Iori was just joking,” Armadimon explained, “Or half-joking, dagya.”

“I know, but… I mean if one of those shards ends up… y’know…”

“Ah…” Hikari frowned.

“But that won’t happen,” V-mon said with a smile, “Daisuke has a good control over his emotions so yeah!”

“... That’s right. I have nothing to fear here!”

Ken was going home, flying on Stingmon right back to the apartment complex where he lives with his family, when he started recapping everything that happened until now.

Since Noel Leblanc appeared, Daisuke had changed drastically his stance on Arsenemon… And he definitely witnessed Noel with a fragment once. And the surname ‘Leblanc’ is too suspicious right… But Noel himself claimed to be a distant relative from Maurice Leblanc, the creator of Arsène Lupin, one of the most famous phantom thief fictional characters in the literature.

“Noel-kun said his birthday is on June 15.”

He phoned Takeru later, once he was at home. Asking if he had discovered something else about that boy.

“June 15?”

“Yes, and there’s something interesting about it… On June 15, 1906… Leblanc published a oneshot featuring Arthur Conan Doyle’s Sherlock Holmes. But Doyle stopped Leblanc from continuing using his character by 1907, in which Leblanc then used the name Herlock Sholmès to continue his story to not abandon it.”

“Hm?”

“Funny detail, isn’t it…?”

“Herlock Sholmes…”

“Ken-chan?” his mother called him. Wormmon went to the door, “Oh, Wormmon… Is Ken-chan busy?”

“He’s on the phone now. Would you like to tell me what it is so I can tell him later?”

“Oh don’t worry, I just wanted to call him for dinner.”

“Alright, I will tell him.”

But why would that sound so suspicious…? Ken was still not sure what this meant. Rather than Daisuke… Acting strange again -- He had left without warnings and said have been after Arsenemon, who had been in the karaoke building that time.

It’s true that Arsenemon was in the building, but why would Daisuke not have warned them?

“... Why did I say that?” Daisuke was lying on his bed after he finished his dinner. V-mon walked in, satisfied with eating enough.

“Aaah~ I love food~”

“You were still eating?” the boy turned his head to the digimon sitting next to him, but on the floor.

“Yeah! It was too delicious to refuse for a second plate!”

“... I couldn’t eat enough though… Something is… buggin’ me.”

“Oh?”

“Ya know… Why did I… say that? Why am I worried about… becoming a victim of those shards?”

“Like you said, everyone can be affected by those, even Koushiro.”

“Yeah… But you said I’m good at controlling my feelings… If I was so sure about that…”

“Hey, you’re worrying about things you can’t control again. That’s not like your usual ‘you’!!”

“I guess it's puberty” he sighed, “But I don’t want to think about this. But I keep… Doing it…”

“... You’re just stressed. Wanna do something to relieve stress?”

“Ah! Want to… Watch those digimon videos on the Network, it’s always fun seeing everyone bonding with their digimon y’know?”

“Yeah! I will catch some popcorn, wait a minute!!” and then V-mon got up and ran to the kitchen.

“H-Hey, you don’t know how to use the microwave!!” and then Daisuke got up, but something stopped him drastically.

He felt… The feeling someone was watching him. He runned to the balcony and opened the door.

“Ah… Thank you, mama!” V-mon voice came from the kitchen, the Motomiyas are really nice to him!! Jun’s partner, Pulsemon, was also asking for some popcorn. He had noticed Daisuke running to the balcony but didn’t realize why though…

“Hey Daisuke?” V-mon looked in the direction of the balcony entrance, so he went there.

“Hm?” the boy looked at him, “I… I thought I heard something but… It was just the wind.”

“Huh… Strange…” V-mon blinked, “Hey, there’s something in your hand…”

“??” He noticed he was holding a paper. It was one of those black cards with a golden paw on the back. Did Arsenemon--?!

“What does it say??”

“...” Daisuke took a look at it, “It says… nothing?”

“Nothing!?” V-mon snatched the card from Daisuke’s hands, “What!? Why would he send something without a word!?”

“Who knows…” Daisuke replied with a shrug, “Anyway, got the popcorn?”

“It’s on the way!!”

Next day, Daisuke showed them the strange Calling Card when they gathered at the karaoke booth after class.

“There’s nothing written here indeed…” Takeru commented.

“That’s strange,” Hawkmon frowned, “Why would Arsenemon send you something like this…?”

“Beats me” Daisuke replied, “More… More likely how did he deliver this without me noticing he was there?”

“Hmm… Are you sure you didn’t notice anything strange?” Iori asked.

“I… I did feel someone was watching me… But… It was just the wind.”

“The wind?” Tailmon, Hikari and Miyako repeated.

“Yeah, the… window was opened a little bit, so the sound of the wind… Y’know, that thing that does… Whoooosh and sounded like a wolf’s howl.”

“Ah, I see…” they all said, except for Ken.

“A-anyway… I have no idea what this means!! It has nothing written here! Maybe he’s just pranking me!?”

“... Have you put it against the light?” Ken finally spoke.

“H-huh!?”

“There’s special inks that cannot be visible to the naked eye, you have to use a warm source in order to reveal its contents. Like a desktop lamp.”

“... I didn’t. I forgot this was a thing.”

“Then do it now,” Ken then took from his pocket a small flashlight.

“Why did you have that in your pocket, dagya!?” Armadimon asked what everyone wanted to say but was beaten by him.

“Last night the power was out in my area, so I brought it with me.”

“Still weird to have a flashlight right now…” Daisuke blinked, “Or is it because you’re into this detective role more than me?”

“Shut up and give me the calling card.”

“Right, mr. Detective~”

Ken turned the flashlight on and put the card over it. The others grouped behind him, the curiosity definitely killing them. They squinted their eyes…

“…”

“It says…”

“ ‘It says…’??” the others repeated together in unison.

“... Nothing.”

“NOTHING!?”

“This is a surprise to me too…” Ken babbled, he was confused as everyone else in the room.

“So he’s just making fun of us!!” Daisuke hissed, “That sneaky evil thief!!”

“But he knows we have the other ten shards,” Hikari mused, “Maybe this is a warning he will attack us soon…”

“Maybe it didn’t work because the flashlight is not--” Ken tried to explain, but he was interrupted by Daisuke’s gibberish angry noises.

“Then we have to look for him FIRST!” Miyako shouted, and turned her laptop on, “I’ll use Izumi-senpai’s radar to detect the other ten pieces and find his whereabouts!!”

“Guys, I…” Ken tried to talk again, but at this point everyone was not giving him attention anymore. Hikari, Takeru, Iori and Daisuke plus their partners grouped behind Miyako, and they watched the screen.

“That’s rude of your part!” Wormmon complained, “Ken-chan wanted to--”

“It’s okay, maybe they’re right… We should focus on tracking those stolen fragments first.”

“B-But Ken-chan!!”

“I said it’s okay, don’t worry about it Wormmon” he smiled serenely.

“.................. I can’t detect any of them!!”

“You can do it, Miyako!” Daisuke shouted, “BUT SOME BRAIN POWER HERE!!”

“I’M TRYING I’M TRYING BUT NOTHING APPEARS ON THE MAP!!”

“DO WHAT THOSE HACKERS DO IN THE MOVIES!!”

“WHA-WHAT DO YOU MEAN?! THOSE MOVIES ARE NOT EVEN A REALISTIC DEPICTION OF HACKING OR PROGRAMMING!!”

“...” Ken watched them for a while and then he just… left the booth with Wormmon. He sent Takeru a text message explaining he just went out to take a breath.

Hopefully he would come back with the solution of that enigmatic calling card.

Arsenemon said he would take the shard from Yamato previously, but he didn’t appear. And according to Daisuke, he was there but probably was chased by Daisuke himself in the most reckless way possible.

Those made no sense to Ken. Wormmon was on his shoulder, looking at him.

“Something makes no sense…”

“Hm?”

“Why wouldn’t Daisuke warn us? Why would he leave V-mon with me again?”

“Do you think he lied?”

“He’s bad at lying, he’s too straightforward and blunt about his feelings and thoughts.”

“True, true…”

“... he wouldn’t lie to us, or at least not to me.”

“What do you think this calling card means?” Wormmon pointed to the card in Ken’s hand, “Do you think there’s something hidden in it?”

“Yeah, I’m trying to solve its mystery.”

Everything seemed to lie within that ominous calling card…

“You’re just having fun with it, ain’t ya?” Espimon said, with an annoyed and tired voice. She was looking at Arsenemon in his disguised form.

“Before I can get all of those shards and seal them away, sure why not?” he chuckled innocently.

“You shouldn’t toy with the Chosen Children!!” she snapped, “They will totally not get that you’re actually on their side if you keep treating it like a game!!”

“Humans are fascinating living beings, don’t you think mademoiselle Espimon?” he smiled, “They can have their spats… But true friendship is what leads them to the right path. They will be fine, I’m sure they find it entertaining as well.”

“Uh… Do you think it’s okay doing this to them…?” she shook her head in disapproval “Tsc tsc, boss… I’m disappointed.”

“They wouldn’t believe me if I told them the truth. I tried though…” he shrugged, “And got no results. Not a single good outcome. So if we have to do something like this…”

“But! How about Impmon and Dracumon??”

“Ah… Uh… We have to track them down right…” he stroked his chin, “They better stay away from this. But I’ve got it covered too, mes amis are on their track too.”

“Huh… You mean Soleil and Lune?” She blinked.

“Oui. I know they like to work hunting the bad apples and making them pay.”

“Geesh, I don’t want to watch this trainwreck of a show” she pouted, “It will ruin everything you--…”

“Alright, alright. If our little monsieur detéctive catches moi before I get my hands on their shards, I will surrender and explain everything WE know to them all.”

Ken took the calling card with him to home, and tried to find a way to reveal its content. He thought the flashlight wouldn’t be warm enough to show the content, so putting it against the light didn’t work.

“Sigh…”

Maybe if he used a lighter? He knew his dad had one, despite not smoking. None of the Ichijoujis smoke, so he only had that to light candles. Maybe he should do it somewhere safer…

“Ken-chan, what are you planning to do with that?”

“The other alternative for invisible inks is using fire to heat the ink and reveal what’s hidden.”

“Oooh, like in the movies!”

“Unless this card is enchanted with magic, we might learn what’s written…”

“I can do the magic part as Pucchiemon, if you want…!”

“Pucchiemon is a fairy digimon…” Ken mused, “Thanks, I’m counting on you if this doesn’t work.”

“... Yeah I think I’m doing something bad” Arsenemon(?) sighed, “But it is justified. I need those shards so I can seal them away from both worlds. Do you understand me… Right? Then… lend me your power, mon ami.”

… Silence.

“Why are you… Doing this?” The person whom Arsenemon was talking to finally spoke, “Couldn’t you… Just straight say it instead?”

“Ah… You shouldn’t underestimate the Chosen Children, they’re said to be heroes but… I don’t think they would cooperate with a digimon and a thief.”

“... I understood. But why do you think I would help, anyway?” the person shrugged, “You’re aware that I will hate you for this later, right…?”

“I’m well aware of the risks, but you’re the one who simply offered me a hand countless times. So I suppose I can be forgiven for this.”

“When I get back to normal you might get dunked into the trash. Letting you know.”

“Will you?” Arsenemon laughed gently, “That might be what humans call ‘aggressive affection’ right?”

“No, I meant LITERALLY dunking you in the closest dumpster.”

“Oh… That’s cruel coming from you,” he frowned.

Ken used the lighter’s flame closer to the calling card. He and Pucchiemon were in the ceiling of their building, trying to test that option first.

“Ken-chan,” Pucchiemon gasped, “Something is appearing in the paper!!”

“... I know, Let’s finish heating the ink and then read the content.”

The ink was revealing word by word, and then Ken winced once he finished reading the complete sentence.

“Darn it!!”

“W-what is it!?” Pucchiemon saw Ken closing the lighter and dropping the calling card on the floor. He then took it from the ground and…

I need your help, mon ami. Can you give me the shards you six gathered, s'il te plaît?

“He… he’s asking…”

“EVOLVE INTO STINGMON AND TAKE ME TO KOUSHIRO-SAN’S OFFICE” Ken shouted, then he just phoned the others, his heart racing and afraid of something happening to…

“Uh? Daisuke-kun?” Koushiro blinked, “Why are you here at this hour?”

“I uhh… I need you to help me with something! It’s important!”

“Where’s V-mon?” Tentomon asked.

“He crashed into bed and didn’t want to come with me” he shrugged, “I think I know how we can get the other ten shards!”

“You…?” Tentomon and Koushiro looked at each other, and then to the boy. It’s very unusual for Daisuke to make plans, or rather… not telling other young five beforehand.

“Y-Yeah… It’s like… You need to look at this area!” he pointed to a random part on the map “I think it’s somewhere there…!!”

“Somewhere…?” Koushiro and Tentomon looked at the screen, where Daisuke was pointing at. They didn’t notice the boy snapping his fingers from his free hand behind his back, making a black cat with green eyes pop from the screen.

“?! What?!” Tentomon gasped -- This is…!?

Then both Koushiro and Tentomon fell unconscious on the floor. Daisuke muttered “I’m sorry, Koushiro-san, Tentomon…” and headed to the container with the wicked Digimental pieces inside. He was ready to grab it when…

“?!”

Wormmon’s sticky silk thread pulled his hand back.

He looked back and saw the entire group there, in shock.

“What are you doing!?” Miyako screamed.

“...” They definitely noticed something was wrong with him.

“I should’ve expected this would happen…” Ken said with a serious voice, “You were under Arsenemon’s control since that time he casted that spell on you, weren’t you?”

“He… He told me the truth,” Daisuke smiled, and put his hand on the top of the container, “Don’t worry, he’ll help us. I promise y’all.”

“Daisuke-kun, snap out of this!!” Hikari pleaded.

“I hate what I’m doing, but please understand this is for everyone’s sake!”

“Why would we trust you in this state?!” Takeru argued, “You’re brainwashed or something!”

“...” he dropped the smile and frowned, “He was right, we wouldn’t understand his motives after all…”

“Wormmon, don’t dare to release that silk thread!” Miyako shouted angrily, and then everyone held the poor insect digimon like a tug war, forcing Daisuke to be dragged back.

“You have me to do this…!!” he tried to resist, “I don’t want anyone else to be corrupted by those things ever again…!!”

“You’re out of yourself!” Armadimon screamed, “Don’t let him fool you, dagya!!”

“Daisuke-san, please listen to us!!” Hawkmon added.

“We will find a way to keep those away from everyone!!” Patamon said, while he and the others tried to keep Daisuke away from the container.

“L-Let me go…!” Yeah, he wouldn’t give in either… “This is the only way we can fix Ken’s mistake!!”

“Well, I will fix MY mistake without letting some thief force my best friend to betray us…!”

“!!?” He stopped resisting and let the group drag him away. All of a sudden??

“... Did you give up now?” Iori asked Daisuke, and he nodded his head.

“I… I don’t think we should be fighting him though…”

“Huh?” the others (but Ken) exclaimed.

“What do ya mean, dagya?”

Daisuke sighed, quite disappointed and ashamed of what he was trying to do.

“Arsenemon… He wants to seal those away, in another place, one no one can access. One place no one can return from if they try going there.”

“But why didn’t he say it before?!” Patamon pouted.

“Well, he wanted to have fun at least” the boy shrugged, surely Daisuke was still strange, but he managed to resist(?) to something, “He loves human being’s lifestyles. The idea of playing a cat and rat game was fascinating.”

“Why did you simply decide to help him?” Hawkmon asked.

“I had no other choice, that’s all.”

“You’re lying again,” Ken said, annoyed.

“No, I’m not. I never lied… I just never told y’all. But he believed he had no other choice. And I guess he was right this whole time.”

“Using you like that is unforgivable!” Miyako clenched her fists, “Once I found him…”

“... I let him do it. And I think it’s not anyone’s fault here, just a thread of misunderstandings…”

“Then, why didn’t you warn us before??” Tailmon asked next.

“Actually he did,” Iori mused, “when we talked to Koushiro-san earlier, I made a light joke and then Daisuke-san asked us to stop him.”

“Wait… Was it… Ah, yeah. Yeah.”

“What did you do to Koushiro-san?” Hikari asked.

“He told me to cast this spell and make him and Tentomon fall asleep. I swear I didn’t kill them! I hope…”

Then Takeru checked Koushiro’s pulse, and turned to the group, “He’s fine, just passed out.”

“Phew…” Daisuke sighed in relief, “I know I did a bad thing, but… Can we please do the right thing and talk to Arsenemon…?”

“I don’t think so… It doesn’t sound like a good idea” Wormmon said, and the others nodded.

“... You won’t trust me because of this too,” he asked them. They nodded and he felt hopeless.

“If he didn’t mean no harm, why did he use you?” Takeru clenched his fist.

“We’re running in circles, at least talk with him!!”

“Wormmon, do the honors” Ken asked him.

“W-what do y’all plan to d-do!?”

“Sticky Net!!”

Wormmon used his sticky silk thread to tie up Daisuke. Miyako and Hawkmon went to wake Koushiro and Tentomon up. And once they were awake again, they explained what had happened. But there was something shameful in Daisuke’s face. Oh he hated what he had done…!! But…

“... You should watch your surroundings.”

“Huh?” Patamon blinked.

The lights went off all of a sudden and they all were in the dark. Something happened for a few seconds and then when the lights went on again…

“GAH!? DAISUKE DISAPPEARED!!” Patamon shouted.

“The fragments too” Armadimon reported.

“H-Have Daisuke-han turned into our enemy now…?” Tentomon asked himself.

“Ken-kun?” Miyako noticed Ken was too quiet.

“Koushiro-san, can we use the tracker now?” he asked with a smirk in the face!?

“Yuck, this silky thread is really sticky…!!” Daisuke complained, carrying the container under his arm, “I should’ve asked for V-mon’s help but…”

He walked for a few hours now… Until he went to a building’s ceiling. Arsenemon was there, kinda upset?? But why?

“You’re kinda late,” Arsenemon spoke… differently from his usual.

“Oh relax,” Daisuke smiled, “It worked, be thankful for that.”

“I hate what we have done…” he dramatically whined. The boy was not sure what to say though, “I’m so sorry…!”

“Hey, I’m the one who should be sorry. But there’s no other op--”

“NILE JEWELRY”

Arsenemon jumped on Daisuke and shielded him with his cape, reflecting the explosive jewel dart to the side. Once he uncovered the kid, both him and Daisuke saw the group landing on the top of that same building they were in.

“So… y’all followed me.” Daisuke, nonchalantly.

“We will retrieve all of those shards right now, Arsenemon” Nefertimon said with a threatening tone of voice.

“I noticed too late that detail” Ken said, and then he pointed at Daisuke, “You’re not the real Motomiya Daisuke.”

“Huh??” they all blinked.

“Have you hit your head when y’all were in the dark dude!?” Daisuke babbled, “Of course I’m Daisuke.”

“Then… How did you explain you having powers only Arsenemon has? You were building this up… Set the scene of stealing Daisuke’s identity to trick Izumi Koushiro-san.”

“Dude…?”

“Then sent Daisuke a strange calling card to pretend you were asking for his help. Tell me, since when have you switched places with Daisuke, Arsenemon?” and he smirked.

That silence could either mean Ken was right… or that he was just in total denial. But the truth was…

“... As expected from you, monsieur detéctive. You’ve caught me,” Daisuke(?) smiled. He snapped his fingers and suddenly the illusion forms both he and Arsenemon(?) were undone, revealing…

“You’re terrible at being me…!” Daisuke (the real one) hissed.

… that Daisuke and Arsenemon had switched appearances.

“Oh…!! Now that makes sense” Hikari nodded, “That’s why Daisuke-kun was acting strangely.”

“No, there’s more…” Takeru interrupted her, “You're not just Arsenemon, right?”

“Hm?” Arsenemon blinked, “Oh… I guess I was careless enough to make things too easy for you all…” and shook his head.

“What do ya mean?” Armadimon blinked, “Is there more?”

“Won’t you tell them, Daisuke?” Ken asked him, “After all you know it too, or didn’t you know?”

“...”

“Daisuke-san knows?” Hawkmon asked.

“Yeah, I know” and the goggle boy sighed, “Kinda recently, but yeah…”

“Hmmm??” Miyako raised an eyebrow.

“We have a lot to talk about,” Arsenemon chuckled, snapped fingers and his form changed to… “You can dunk me into the dumpster as you promised, Motomiya-san.”

“N-Noel(-kun/san)??!” the others, but Ken and Takeru (+ their mons), exclaimed.

“Now that we have been introduced… Allow me to explain my goal here, Chosen Children.”

#young prince detective ichijouji ken #02 team digimon case files

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monriatitans · 9 months ago

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Ta-Da! List: Thursday, April 11th

I share my “Ta-Da! List” every day so everyone gets a daily update and I have a reminder of what I’ve accomplished.

To learn more about “Ta-Da! Lists”, check out @adhdjesse’s book Extra Focus.

Abbreviations

– O&T: Opinions & Truth Blog – TMA: TitansMonriArt – VGQ: Video Game Quote – LQ: Literacy Quote – SQ: Stupidity Quotes – NRL: The Neverending Reading List – BMAC: Buy Me a Coffee – TDL: Ta-Da! List

Ta-Da! List

✧ throughout the day: – kept emails manageable – loaded the dishwasher ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ✧ on the bedroom setup: – O&T: the scheduled VGQ & LQ, the 3 SQs, and NRL, “The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes and Other Stories”, by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, posted, then they were manually shared to other social media; shared today’s TDL – TMA: wrote the poems “‘Try Harder!’” and “‘You’re Doing It On Purpose!’”, then published them on the TMA Medium, Ko-fi, and on other social media – Pixiv: continued the purge of who was being followed after seeing AI-prompters (to put it mildly) slipped through, made it to page 33 of 44 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ✧ on the office setup: – Gaming: played Final Fantasy XIV ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ✧ chores and miscellaneous: – Movies: “watched” “Sin City” repeatedly – Food: had candy, cereal, and coffee for breakfast; had leftover family dinner for lunch and dinner – Chores: checked the mail; unloaded the dishwasher, don’t remember when it was started – YouTube: finished watching Yo Samdy Sam’s video “How therapy can traumatise autistic people (w/ Steph Jones)”; watched I’m Autistic, Now What?’s videos “AUTISTICS, how do you sit WRONG? | Autism Memes”, “Painfully Relatable Neurodivergent TikToks!” and “I’m laughing, but I’m offended… | Autism Memes”

—

Well, these are all the updates I had for today! Thank you for reading!

May every decision you make be *in the spirit of fairness* and may the rest of your day *NOT go to $#!7*!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Enjoy what I do? Please consider supporting via Buy Me a Coffee (BMAC)! Like what you see and want to know when there’s more? Click here to subscribe for updates and/or hit the Follow button! Watch MonriaTitans on Twitch and YouTube! For more about MonriaTitans, click here! The image was made in Canva!

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lovely-oh-so-lovelyyui · 2 years ago

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Pov: Shu sakamaki the absent father

tw: domestic @buse and su1cide

Being someone’s father does not make you their dad.

Simply put: narcissistic, selfish, disinterested, unreliable, “the world is tough, get over it”

He’s an overgrown manchild, downright despicable, you grow up always on your father’s side till you realise your mother’s frustration and quick-fire temper came from a useless man who contributes nothing to your family.

Yeah sure, he has money but that’s about it.

So what if he had sex with a couple of other people when your mother was pregnant? Men have needs. Okay, and he fell asleep when she was in labour? He had a long night.

And sometimes women who aren’t your mother walk out of their room, but that’s not your business.

He’s attentive when you’re a toddler, there are pictures of him sitting next to you on your birthdays, or sitting next to you on the park bench, hey there are even of him sleeping beside you.

He buys your mom flowers sometimes, she cuts them up and puts them in vases.

It stops the older you get, you get a handshake for being the smartest in your class, I don’t think he quite realises when he had kids they would grow up with their interests, bet he thought you would remain 7 forever.

Doesn’t remember anniversaries, birthdays and special occasions. You once jokingly ask him when your birthday is. He didn’t even hesitate… to tell you the wrong date.

For as long as you can remember his cold gaze, glazed over blue watching you and everyone around him, listening to his footsteps, memorising his breathing patterns while he sleeps so can tell the difference between bad days and good days.

Don’t talk too much, you wouldn’t want to become troublesome for him.

Fragile ego making “ jokes” about your mother, it’s lucky you look like him after all she looks like a tramp (everyone laughs at the dinner table you know he sulks easy), perhaps she gained weight ( everyone starts hiding snacks in their room after all your mom’s ed started from him), he paints a picture a really lovely one actually.

I’ll set it up for you

There’s a girl, she’s not really interesting, beautiful or smart; and fate screws her over, you see, getting delivered to 5 horrible monsters who constantly taunt and tyrannise her. She meets a man, who doesn’t really care at first but she works hard to ‘gain’ his affection and he saves her. It’s a pretty house in the countryside, she has 2-3 kids (doesn’t matter if she wanted them, I mean he’s given her everything, is it so bad that he wants to be a father, okay she doesn’t have any friends and the isolation is a bit much some days ( why would she need anyone other than her husband? What kind of shameless, lewd woman is she trying to show her kids, my god? Also, she has chores to do, he doesn’t wanna live in a dumpster. And cooking? Yeah, vampires don’t need food but he wants those family dinners? She knows what his childhood was like, all silent and cold. Is it so bad that he wants to sit down to a homemade meal three times a day with his wife and kid (who cares if everyone waits for him to wake up as the food gets cold, he’s the head of this family? He puts the bread on the table?)

Makes crude jokes about your mother, bet you wonder why the master bedroom is soundproof.? He knows first-hand that children are a bit squeamish, but he knows what’s best for your mother, I mean pain or pleasure, she likes it. She’s just that type of woman.

You pretend not to see the scars, the bandages, or the way her hands shake in exhaustion. She tried delegating chores around the house, but your father overlooked that too.

After all, you should be grateful to him, women are unpredictable and overly emotional, and he doesn’t want to burden your childhood with chores you should focus on having fun, mothers are meant to be able to take care of everything. His mother did.

The constant joke of what if he killed himself ya know after all your mother is so much baggage, or maybe even better what is her marries another woman, prettier, younger, more useful, who nags less I bet you’d like that better than your actual mother ( you all looked at her apologetically, weakly laughing at his jokes).

You stay in your room a lot, listening to the shell of a mother cluttering around waiting like a flower to bloom under the sun till your father walks in.

You listen to his footsteps, bated breaths, he makes your mother laugh, today must be a good day. You hurriedly run downstairs. You don’t want to ruin the mood. You greet him, he pulls you into his arms kissing the top of your head, and you try not to cry. You ask him about his day, he laughs again, he starts talking about some old composer, and you nod along appropriately, laughing at his remarks.

You wait right before dinner, asking him to sign a slip for school he raises his eyebrow, and you hold your breath.

He tells you to get his pen, you finally breathe. You hear him making a joke at your brother about how you are your mother’s daughter always needing to go out, thriving for attention from men, it’s good to loosen the leash on women occasionally otherwise they forget how many other great bitches are out there and start slacking. Your brother laughs merrily, you watch your father’s eyes glaze over imagining himself with the freedom your brother has, making jokes like this with his father, in a pretty house where his mother is warm and motherly.

You ignore the stinging pain in your gut as you retrieve the signed slip, your family settling down for dinner, and he remarks maybe he should hire a cook since your mother obviously forgot how to season the food (you think it tastes fine), he asks about your day, you try to keep it short but interesting regardless his eyes glaze over again already bored as you barely finish with an awkward chuckle. It hurts how it takes him a moment to realise you stopped talking, he repeats this action with everyone out of courtesy then talks about his day. No one dares interrupt.

Some days he bangs the door shut, coming home from work. You freeze, he is far too early today, dinner isn’t ready, your mom hasn’t finished cleaning you worry. You’re wearing shorts if he walks into the living room you’re going to have to hear about how he raised a whore of a daughter.

He storms towards you, thundering asking why your bag was on the porch, you apologise he doesn’t care it’s too late he might’ve tripped on it, also what are you wearing does he not give you enough money to buy appropriate clothes?

Your mother tries to appease him, telling him there’s steak tonight, he says not to worry and storms out again for a walk around the block. He’s gone for 4 days, your mother is hysterical with worry if he’s okay and if this time is finally when he abandons you. You hope not, the longest he left was 7 months you’re still haunted by the dead look in your mother’s eyes.

One day she just walks out, and you hear the door open and close, and it isn’t till your father comes home and asks where she is you think something is wrong. She never ever missed greeting him when he came home.

They find her body at the bottom of the cliffs an hour away; she kills herself. The way your father cried you would think it actually hurt him, he tells you your laugh is disgusting it’s just like hers. You laugh in his face. He finally leaves, just packs up and leaves, your brother begs him not to, and you smile and wave, egging him on he doesn’t look back once.

You see him a year later at some gathering your grandpa throws, he has another woman on his arm they often switch to a new one every week. Finally, he meets the woman, you pity her at their wedding when you realise she looks at your father just like your mother did. You suppose your older half-siblings do too, except instead of you watching them walking out as they did at your mother’s wedding, you walk out with them.

#Spotify #diabolik lovers headcanon #diabolik lovers #diabolik lovers headcanons #diaboys #shu sakamaki #tw

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what-the-stories-have-foretold · 2 years ago

Note

If possible I would like to request a headcanon of whisky trio (separately) having a date with reader in an amusement park. 👉🏻👈🏻

I hope it's not complicated and thank you very much, I'm looking forward to it. 🥺💕

Yesss 🥰

Morofushi Hiromitsu, Akai, Furuya x Reader

My Navigation is here.

Warnings: none

He waits for you with cotton candy already in his hand to give to you

Will win you stuff, his favourite part is probably giving you tokens to remember the day by and seeing you smile

Likes the attractions with weird paths and having to balance on bridges and such (i think they are called "fun house")

There, he gets to hold you to make sure you don't fall, hand gently holding yours, his other hovering over your back

Talks animately about his friends from the academy and is such a good listener! Don´t get me wrong, the others are too, but unlike them, his eyes are on you and he´s smiling and nodding along everything you´re saying

Def wants to end the date on the ferris wheel to watch over the park, now illuminated by the stars

He'll try to get you into the ghost house (is that what it's called?)

If you get easily scared, he'll hold you around your waist and against him, but chuckle into your cheek whenever you flinch

He will draw patterns into your waist though

If you don't get scared easily he'll either try to illicit some type of response from you: either by distracting you before a jumpscare or by scaring you himself

Or if that also doesn't work on you, you two just amuse yourself together in there

Will win you prizes: especially at the shooting stalls

You could have sworn one was rigged, bu he somehow won regardless

Might try to get you on a rollercoaster

Will also go on the ferris wheel, not for the romantic feel, but because he thinks you´ll enjoy it. He just wants to see that sparkle in your eyes

As he usually invites you to candle-lit dinners at home or an elegant restaurant, you were quite surprised by his suggestion

but then, you supposed, he was still in his twenties

You were especially reminded by that, as you saw him waiting leaned against his sports car, grinning at you

He will equal parts drag you everywhere and lazily follow you around when you get excited at the sight of an attraction or the food stalls

Won´t point out the ferris wheel specifically, (mostly because he knew you would do it anyways), but will go with you

You are not surprised when you meet Conan and his friends waiting in line for a ride: why else would Furuya have invited you to an amusement park?

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xtrafluffyteddy · 2 years ago

Note

Hi! Can I please request an Eddie x reader fic that starts out angst but ends up fluff where the reader is feeling insecure about her body and keeps comparing herself to Chrissy because Chrissy is “perfect” and reader thinks Eddie should be with her (Chrissy) instead because she (reader) literally can’t understand why Eddie chose her over Chrissy then Eddie comforts her and tells her that he doesn’t want Chrissy and only wants her? Can you make it modern!au if you can?

So sorry it took me so long I’m a camp counselor in the day so I don’t have lots of time but anyway here you chicken noodle! Also I listened to heather by Conan gray to really get in the zone

How could you compete you thought as you sat at the hellfire table watching eddie from across the cafeteria talking to none other than Chrissy Cunningham and you couldn’t blame him she was pretty, skinny, practically perfect who wouldn’t want to talk to her. You poked at your tray of food suddenly losing your appetite deciding to just throw away what was left before grabbing your book bag put in your earbuds wanting to just get away from them and how perfect they looked together. Eddie watched in confusion as you left “yeah I’ll see you in the woods later and I brought a couple grams now if you’ll excuse me” and with that he followed after you.

You walked into the girls bathroom taking a deep shaky breath as you slide down the wall tears rolling down your face as you thought about how much better Chrissy would be for Eddie I mean she was his ideal girl atleast that’s what you thought she wasn’t covered in little scars from roughhousing, or stretch marks, she was perfect in every way you weren’t.

You stood in front of the mirror studying every aspect of yourself becoming more upset the longer you looked until you just broke down placing your hands on your face as you sobbed.

“Sweetheart” Eddie called from outside the door “can I come in?” He lightly pushed open the door causing you to quickly wipe your face turning to face him hoping he wouldn’t notice the puffiness around your eyes or the redness of you nose “yeah sure Ed’s” you mumble “sweetheart what’s wrong you left so fast did something happen” he wrapped you up in his arms before pulling away cupping your flushed cheeks his cool rings soothing the reddened skin.

“You were talking with Chrissy and I couldn’t stomach it..” you mumble tears welling up again as you thought about him leaving you for her and you couldn’t blame him I mean who wouldn’t wanna be with Chrissy Cunningham. “Sweetheart what?” He questioned making you look at him “I didn’t wanna interrupt anything I mean” you mumble hiccuping softly as the tears begin again “you two would look way better than you and I” you tried to pull away but Eddie wouldn’t let go

“Sweetheart I don’t want Chrissy Cunningham” he laughed softly wiping your tears “She just wanted to buy some weed that’s it besides why would I want Chrissy when I have the perfect girl for me right here” he leaned down kissing your flushed cheeks “but-“ you began “but nothing I only. want .you.” He stated before fishing his cracked phone from his pocket showing you his lock screen of you two at a Metallica concert both smiling at the camera “if I wanted Chrissy don’t you think she’d be my Lock Screen, or that I’d have a folder for her labeled love my life?” He kissed your forehead “I don’t want Chrissy”

You just sniff and bury yourself into his arms clinging to him and taking in his comforting scent “I trust you Ed’s” and with that Eddie held your hand as he walked you out of the bathroom “cmon we’re cutting class and we’re gonna go on an adventure and I’ll show you just how much I only want you” you blush but follow him none the less wide smile on your face

I hope this was okay I’m tired from work so this may not be my best

#eddie munson x reader #stranger things #eddie munson #eddie munson imagine #eddie st4 #eddie munson stranger things #eddie stranger things

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autumn-foxfire · 3 months ago

Text

Movie 24. I can't believe I've almost watched all the movies at this point. I don't know anything about this movie and going in blind!

What an interesting way to start the movie. If we're seeing America though, I'm guessing this will be an Akai focused movie? I could be wrong though.

They put Shinichi in pants. We know he loves shorts. Free the legs.

So the Olympics are known as World Sports Games. Is the name the olympics trade marked or something?

Is this a mistranslation? I assume so as they should be considered to be seven years old. Gosho doesn't let time pass. At most Shinichi has turned from sixteen to seventeen.

Sonoko may have told her parents she's not interested in taking over the family name in canon but it's nice to see that she is still serious in representing her family. I think she'd make a fine chairwomen.

While I don't appreciate the jabs at Genta and making his character only focus on food, I do like he managed to help the investigation this time around. Shinichi has taught the children well, sniff everything.

Akai having the professors house bugged is so funny. I know one of the reasons is so he can keep Ai safe, but I also like think he knows Shinichi well and his inability to talk to others and ask for help so he needs the bugs to hear what he has to say because there is one who he shares everything with which is the professor.

OH! Sera got an introduction in this movie! Nice!

Sonoko is so kind T-T I love her.

Sera is always so pretty. Ran has great taste in women.

The parentification of Ran makes me upset. She's changing a grown man's t-shirt for him. She doesn't need too, he's capable of changing himself, but she's so used to being the mother she does so without thinking.

This movie is showing us that Ran and Shinichi can work together with one another and plan together. She. Should. Know.

Oh, so Shinichi is aware that Akai will kill and he protested against it.

NEVERMIND. Shinichi does not trust Ran. And is stupid enough to make her think he will be there. And Shinichi, you should be able to share your feelings with your "girlfriend", it's weird you or her can never do so. It's almost like they don't exist.

Kogoro actually parented Shinichi? Nope, nevermind, it was probably Ran who did so.

And he's also lying to Ai now. Shinichi, can you please respect the women in your lives, especially when they're just as capable as you and even more so in certain areas (i.e. Ran's ability to defend herself is much greater than Shinichi's and Ai is incredibly knowledgable in other areas that Shinichi and knows his targets better than he does).

Yumi and Shukichi are cute.

Sorry, I see Sera, I screenshot. Although can I talk about how bad a parent Mary is? Because she is for letting her daughter do something so dangerous for her, much like she does in canon.

Ai: Shinichi, escape and save our lives.

And Shinichi completely ignores her because he DOES NOT TRUST WOMEN. Is he a misogynist? I'm really starting to believe he is. Or the writers are and they project that onto Shinichi.

Good on Ai, taunt Shinichi for ignoring you when you knew what was happening in this situation.

Okay, it is cool to see Akai and Sera fight with one another. We don't get to see Sera fight often.

Why are Mary and Sera beating up Akai though?! They just let the culprit get away.

He didn't call you because he doesn't trust women but Ran is also his possession so he needs her to know that from time to time :) (Sorry, I am angry about the writing so far).

Pretty girl!

Being drop-dead gorgeous runs in the family.

Shukichi, as adorable as Yumi is being and I know that she does want to marry you, she is currently drunk and can't accept the proposal.

Shinichi's special. Smelling.

So Shinichi's watch has UV now.

He looks so amazing. It's not fair.

Sera looked so unimpressed at Shinichi lying to Ran and then she tried to press that it was Conan who knew the truth. She's totally on the side of Ran knowing.

Akai actually had a silver bullet made. I guess he's not like Vermouth who believes Shinichi to be a silver bullet.

...Well, that is not how Shukichi expected for Yumi to meet his family.

This movie: America is shit.

Honestly, great criticism.

I can't believe Shinichi just answered the phone just to hang up on Ran <.< He has no respect for her or her concern for him at all.

Poor Camel, he doesn't get the cool line weight added to his design.

Not only does she look great but she's also calling Shinichi out. This is why we love her.

The Akai family, minus Mary, are showing off why they're so great as characters. We love them.

Ran, please worry about your girlfriend as well.

LMAO I do love Sera calling out the stupid decision to make Shinichi shout Ran in movies.

This is why we like Akai, he actually trusts people.

Shinichi seems to have learned how to trust during the course of this movie. Not entirely, but he is.

Fucking cool.

Shinichi, really owes his life to the professor and his inventions.

I really wish that Sera's name was also being called out. She is just as much as Ran's friend and she should be extremely worried for her as well. Her life is in danger as well.

Oh now her name has been called out. A bit late in my opinion.

He won't kill but I wonder what will happen when he's placed in a role where he has too.

I can't state enough how much I adore their friendship. Platonic soulmates.

Ran, where is Sera's hug? She deserves one too.

Mary. You have NO RIGHT to threaten Akai for almost hurting Sera. You PUT HER IN THIS SITUATION. I assume that's who she's talking about. Unless she's talking about Shinichi and then that's even worse.

LMAO Yumi.

#dcmk #foxy's dcmk commentary

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bi-bard · 2 years ago

Text

Please Don’t Ruin This for Me - Higgs Monaghan Imagine (Death Stranding)

Title: Please Don’t Ruin This for Me

Pairing: Higgs Monaghan X Reader

Based On: Memories

Word Count: 893 words

Warning(s): mentions of canonical violence/acts of terrorism

Summary: (Y/n) was trying to move forward with their life after finding out some startling truths about the man they loved. However, this man won’t simply disappear.

Author's Note: I didn't imagine this writing challenge taking me so long.

SUPERACHE - CONAN GRAY WRITING CHALLENGE MASTERLIST

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

When I first met Higgs Monaghan, he was scared and in obvious need of help.

Wait, no. That's not right.

He played as scared and obviously in need of help. He didn't even give me his real name. Everything that I had known about him had been false.

He ran to my door, rambling about just needing a place to hide away from the time fall. He had been limping, looking all around him. He was a good actor.

I let him in. I gave him food, a place to rest, patched up his wounds. I took care of him out of the kindness of my heart.

He offered me some story about being out for work, trying to get some deliveries done. After an unfortunate run-in with some group, he lost the deliveries and his gear to survive the time fall. So, he was left with no gear, no work, and no way home.

Of course, I felt guilty.

I was certain that I was just being kind. And at first, maybe that's all there was to it. But as time went on, it was hard to deny that something else had formed between us.

As he got better, he helped me with my work. Mostly cleaning and organizing behind me. I would later learn that he was looking through the notes in my notebooks. But at the time, I had no reason to not trust him.

It wasn't until a few weeks into his stay that anything truly happened between us. There had been small moments. Longing looks, light touches as we brushed by each other. Small things that could be ignored or explained away.

That was until the night he kissed me.

It had been gentle. Not rushed or harsh. It just kind of... happened.

Our relationship was much the same way. And it was perfect. Well, I thought it was perfect and I thought he believed that too.

Until another few weeks later when he disappeared. No word, no warning. Just one morning, he was gone.

My knowledge about him started soon after.

Starting with his real name: Higgs Monaghan.

After that came the stories. Terrorism and powers and attacks. He was a monster. A monster that appeared on my doorstep with this fake kindness and sincerity.

And I completely fell for it.

Every bit of it.

I kept to myself even more than usual after that. In my opinion, no one needed to know what I had experienced. Ever. Unless his work somehow made its way to me.

I had hoped that I would never see him again. That my life could go on in peace.

I didn't get that.

One night, I came home and had to face what had happened to me.

I noticed something was wrong as soon as I got inside.

I very slowly moved my hand to my pack, unloading the weapon that I had invested in when I learned the truth about who was going to

"Holy shit!"

I frantically aimed my weapon at the figure on the floor of my small kitchen area. The figure's head slowly picked up to look me in the eye.

"Oh my-"

"Hey there, doll," he said, forcing a chuckle through gritted teeth.

"Higgs."

"Oh, you know my real name now," he continued. "Great."

"What are you doing here," I asked.

"Where else would I go?"

"Anywhere else."

"But the person that I love is here."

I clenched my jaw, steadying my aim as I glared at him. "You don't love me. You never did. Not really."

"Hey, hey," he held a hand up like he was upset that I would accuse him of something. "You don't get to decide how I feel."

"You don't manipulate the people you love," I said. "Or turn them into unknowing accomplices to your terrorist attacks."

"I'm sorry," he replied. "I didn't think I'd fall in love with you when we met. That wasn't my goal. Do you think I would've ever come back here if I didn't love you?"

"I think you came back expecting me to not know about you. You wanted someone easy to manipulate. I am not that person anymore."

Higgs pushed himself off the floor. I held onto the gun a little tighter. I didn't want to seem scared, but the truth was that I was terrified of him.

"Unless you are leaving, don't come any closer."

He scoffed, "Really? You'd throw me out?"

"After what you did, yes," I said. "I have done so much in the hopes of being better than I was when you so easily took advantage of me. Why would I let you undo that?"

"Baby..."

His tone was condescending as he stepped forward. I couldn't move further back without running into the wall. I just glared at him.

He grabbed the hand that was holding the gun, slowly pushing it down.

"Come on," he continued, leaning in closer. His nose gently nudged mine.

As soon as he did that, I pushed my gun up. The barrel met his chin. He let out a chuckle and slowly held his hands up.

"Leave," I said simply.

He stepped away. I kept the gun trained on him.

"Goodbye, doll," he said as he got to the door.

I didn't speak or drop my gun I was sure that he was gone.

"Goodbye."

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

Masterlist (Includes links to All Writing Challenges)

What I Write For

Some Original Characters

#higgs monaghan imagine #higgs monaghan fanfiction #higgs monaghan x reader #death stranding fanfiction #death stranding imagine #death stranding x reader #fanfiction #imagine #x reader

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your-local-sleepyhead · 3 years ago

Text

Incorrect Quotes - Wild Police Story | Detective Conan: Police Academy Arc

Includes: Furuya Rei + Matsuda Jinpei + Hagiwara Kenji + Date Wataru + Morofushi Hiromitsu

Warning: Slight profanities

Parts: one . master-list

Notes: Some quotes were generated from here. Does anyone wants a part two?

You, looking at the Morofushi and Hagiwara siblings:

You: “I ain’t never seen two happy siblings, it's always one of em gotta be dead.”

- a drama is happening -

Date: *tries to get in between and stop them*

Matsuda: Unbothered. Does not give a fuck.

Hiro: *is confused*

Hagiwara: *watches while eating*

Zero: *is apart of the drama*

Zero: “That's it, we're gonna go out and find what we need!”

Hiro: “To the city?”

Zero: “Yeah, no matter what!”

Date: “Well- How exactly do you propose we do that, exactly?”

Zero: “I... I don't know!”

Matsuda: “Oh come off it, be serious!”

Zero: “I am serious!”

Matsuda: “You're insane!”

Hagiwara: “Why, if only we were all wiener dogs, our problems would be solved!”

Everyone:

Zero: “What???”

Hagiwara: “Or maybe it was a basset hound!”

Matsuda, panicked: “YOU'RE ALL INSANE!”

- Furuya after a fight with Matsuda -

Zero: “Bye Matsuda! Bye Hagiwara! Bye Hiro! Bye Date! Bye Matsuda!”

Hagiwara: “You said ‘bye Matsuda’ twice.”

Zero: “I like Matsuda.”

Zero, trying to convince Date to join the group: “You know... I thought it'd be good to have someone come along who's really... strong!”

Matsuda: “And loud!”

Hagiwara: “And grumpy!”

Hiro: “And oblivious to reality!”

Date:

Zero: Looking left cause you don’t treat me right

Matsuda: Looking right because you left

Hagiwara: Looking up cause you let me down

Hiro: Looking down cause you fucked up

Date: What is wrong with you guys

Zero: “Good morning.”

Hiro: “Good morning.”

Date: “Good morning.”

Hagiwara: “You all sound like robots, try spicing it up a bit.”

Matsuda: “MORNING MOTHERFUCKERS”

Zero: “I’m an idiot.”

Matsuda:

Hagiwara:

Hiro:

Date:

Zero:

Matsuda: “If you’re waiting for us to disagree, this is going to be a long day.”

Zero: “I’ve done a lot of dumb stuff.”

Hiro: “I witnessed the dumb stuff.”

Hagiwara: “I recorded the dumb stuff.”

Matsuda: “I joined in on the dumb stuff.”

Date: “I TRIED TO STOP YOU FROM DOING THE DUMB STUFF!!!”

Zero: “What does 'take out' mean?”

Matsuda: “Food.”

Hagiwara: “Dating”

Hiro: “Murder”

Date: “IT CAN MEAN ALL THREE IF YOU'RE NOT A COWARD.”

Zero: “What did you guys get in your yearbook?”

Hagiwara: 'Prettiest Smile'

Hiro: 'Nicest Personality'

Matsuda: 'Most likely to start a bar fight'

Date: 'Least likely to start a bar fight, but most likely to win one'

#wild police story #detective conan #case closed #detective conan x reader #police academy #police academy arc #police #furuya rei #amuro tooru #matsuda jinpei #hagiwara kenji #morofushi hiromitsu #date wataru

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fandomtransmandom · 2 years ago

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TW/CW: Trauma, Mental Illness, Mental Health, Self-Criticism, Schizoaffective Disorder, Mania, Bullet mention, Food. (In video: Alcohol mention, Food mention, Diet discussion. Mortality/Death references.)

I broke two million words on AO3!

So it’s time for another rambling personal post. Since I began sharing my work in July of 2020, I’ve learned a lot:

-What it’s like to live in near constant fear of criticism about the (296 and counting…) stories I hold dear, and still leave them up for anyone to read and comment on. Please, please be kind!

-The value of friendship. Everyday I am mystified as to how I have multiple friends. Which probably sounds pathetic, but to me it’s joyous. I’ve also learned the importance of cutting people out of my life for the sake of my own boundaries.

-How to process my trauma through narrative and the immense feeling of purpose I experience when someone trusts me to weave their history and hurts into a request.

-The importance of routine for my mental health. Doing the math, I wrote an average of 2,293 words a day. Now that’s a far cry from the 7,000+ I cranked out during the first six months, (thanks ✨mania✨) But still, I stuck with it. I don’t work because I have schizoaffective disorder and my symptoms make things like going out and interacting with others difficult, but I try to treat writing like a job to establish structure in my life.

-To challenge negative thinking. Especially when it comes to comparing myself with others and setting unrealistic standards. I know I’ll never be the best writer. I may have a shot at most prolific in the fandom, ha, but art is subjective. I almost always use OCs and write from third person POV, which many people dislike. But I am learning to be okay with that. Because ultimately, I love, love, LOVE writing. I love Bill and Conan. I love whiling away hours in daydreams until pieces of plot slide into place. Sitting behind the keyboard, completely unaware I’m typing and losing myself in Barry’s bullet-ridden angst, or silly and saucy Richie smut. So even if no one reads my fics, I will continue to write. Because in the words of my beloved Conan:

“The goal for me has always been–when I feel down, or I’m losing my way, or ‘what’s the point?’–is I want to make stuff I’m proud of. I want to make as much of it as I can while I’m alive.”

To celebrate, I bought a little five inch ice cream cake and coincidentally I got this Milo Dean-inspired tattoo a few days ago. Behind my ear because, as Bill said, “The voice in your head is wrong,” and I need that reminder.

In addition to the friendships and lessons, writing also brought me a wonderful partner. And for the holidays/our two year anniversary, she got me a Cameo from Jordan Schlansky! See below. What a hilarious and amazing gift! Guess @martymcdie88mph’s various tasks include being the raddest girlfriend ever.

I think that’s all for now. Before I start another steamy Conan one-shot, I want to thank everyone who’s read my stories, left kudos, commented, and made requests. I truly can’t express how indebted I am to you all for your kindness and support. Your praise keeps me going and helps me counter the cruel thoughts bogging me down. I especially want to thank the handful of friends who read consistently and fuel me with compliments. Not sure if any of you would want to be tagged in this post, so I’ll refrain. But you know who you are and I love you.

And though I pray Bill and Conan are never exposed to the horrorshow of my AO3 account or my existence in general, I hope they’re aware of the happiness their brilliance, humor, and beauty provide. The love. Because without these tall, blue-eyed, assless comedy men, I wouldn’t be here. Neither would these two million words.

So thank you, fellas. I owe you everything. Until the next million rolls around...🧡

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lisatelramor · 2 years ago

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Crossing Borders ch2

Pain. Back, neck, shoulder, head, hip, couldn’t move, hurts—why?—hurts, a face above, blurry, confusion, fear, no breath in lungs to call out, no strength. Everything wrong, wrong, hurts, it wasn’t fair.

Wei Ying pushed the energy back and out, returning it to the blood; look this was your source, stay. Ugh. He hated the disorienting feeling it left him with. The fall had knocked the breath from the victim’s lungs, maybe even left him with broken ribs, and injured him in multiple places. There wasn’t any recognition though, no clear feeling toward the person who pushed him. It couldn’t have been an accident. Not with the energy up there as well as down here, but it was a puzzle as to what could have done it.

Perhaps Lan Zhan had more luck.

“Anything?” he asked, stepping back onto solid ground. There was a small furrow between Lan Zhan’s brows and that didn’t indicate anything good.

“Mm,” Lan Zhan hummed—a negative. “The spirit is present and aware, but insists that he was alone out here before he was pushed to his death.”

“And he specifically said pushed?”

“Yes.” The sounds of Inquiry faded away as Lan Zhan lifted his hand from the strings. “He thought he saw a face when he fell, but it was too poor of an angle to make out details. The pusher had long hair, however.”

“Oh, well that narrows things down to, eh, half the residents,” Wei Ying said sourly.

“Was he part of a group or a solo visitor?”

“A group.”

“Any women?”

“Yes.”

“So potentially one of them could be the murderer.”

Lan Zhan hummed, neither agreeing nor disagreeing; considering.

“I mean murder can be really, like, personal and all.” When it was the living doing the killing at any rate. The dead were a lot less choosy about who they took their anger out on.

“We should see the body.”

Ugh, more blood. Well, if he wanted to avoid corpses, being a cultivator was a poor career choice. Still, it never got any less gross. And annoying. …Okay, maybe his reactions to dead bodies weren’t on par with the average person’s. Most people would lead with screaming, not annoyance. “Lead on,” Wei Ying said with a heavy sigh.

He had a feeling he wasn’t going to get any more research done for a while.

*o*o*

Conan had picked through his meal—or at least as much as he was willing to eat—when the bell started ringing. With the muffled silence of the dining hall only interrupted by the sounds of moving chopsticks, the sound carried through the whole room with an ominous, low reverberation. Conan didn’t have much time to wonder what it was before two people came through the door, white robes swaying behind them as they walked so fast it skimmed the rule against running.

They went straight for the head table.

Conan didn’t like where this was going. A guest missing, an alarm bell ringing, and people on the edge of serious worry? Clearly something had gone wrong, and Conan was willing to bet it involved the missing person.

A low murmur broke out among the tables as the bell kept ringing. Conan craned his neck, but he couldn’t see the expressions on the people at the head table. What he did see was two more people standing abruptly.

“Attention!” a woman in white robes said. She wasn’t shouting, but her voice carried through the whole hall, smothering the muttering and easily heard above the bell. “There has been an incident and we must ask that all visitors return to their guest dormitories.” It was said in English, followed by Mandarin, likely because it was aimed at the wide range of guests. “Please follow a disciple back to your rooms. If you have not finished your meal, you may request further sustenance to be eaten in your rooms.”

“Well, this is really turning out to be a shit show,” Mouri grumbled under his breath.

“Tou-san,” Ran chided.

“What? There’s a billion rules, the food is awful, the rooms are awful, and now we’re going to be locked in them?”

“We’re not going to be locked in, they want to make sure everyone is accounted for,” Ran said reasonably.

“For a week getaway, it sure resembles a prison,” Mouri said as they let themselves be herded into the line of people.

Some distance behind them, Conan could see the people he was watching earlier approaching one of the robed people, concern on their faces. Clearly they also worried that their missing friend was related to the alarm. That, or they were worried he’d get separated. It was too far away to make out what was being said, never mind that it was probably in Mandarin.

“Please, follow me,” one of the residents said, presumably to the group at large. Or maybe they were dividing out by groups or housing?

Conan didn’t think too hard on that, eyes searching for clues on what might have happened. There were people everywhere, moving like an ant colony that had been poked with a stick and yet somehow still moving with calm purpose instead of running like one would expect in an emergency. The ones in white seemed to move in pairs, and that would make sense for a patrol of some sort looking for a potentially unknown threat. Everyone had backup.

There was so much movement, Conan almost missed a streak on the ground, almost lost in the footprints and dust. Blood. Not a lot of blood, but definitely blood that had been stepped in, moving toward… He squinted at the building in the distance. Not the kitchens or dining hall, naturally. The compound’s map was a vague picture in his head. Infirmary? He thought it was the right direction for it, and if someone was dead or injured, it would be the logical place to go.

Conan let himself drop back, distance widening between him and the Mouris. No one seemed to notice. They all had their tasks to carry out or were also guests moving toward different locations. He drifted back. Back more, in the direction of the probable infirmary. No one stopped him. Conan tucked into the shadow of a building and moved as fast as he could without outright running because running would probably make him noticed instantly.

Nothing to see here, just an insignificant child…

There was more blood, drops really, a smudge here or there, but this was Conan’s element. As two residents hurried by, he kept in the bushes until he was close to the infirmary door. There; a smudge of blood at the opening where someone had touched it with bloodied hands.

Conan slid the door open just enough to slip inside.

The front room was empty, just a counter and a few seats and a wall full of tiny drawers with handwritten labels on them. There was a door behind the counter, and another hallway branching off from the reception room. Down the hallway were voices, serious-toned.

He crept closer.

There wasn’t anywhere to hide in the building, definitely not in the minimalistic hallway, but if the people talking were too busy with the victim, then they wouldn’t have any reason to look out and see him. Conan crept to the doorway of some sort of exam room, the door just open a crack. The voices were clear here, but of course Conan couldn’t make head or tails of what was being said. He knew maybe twenty Mandarin phrases at most, and they might not even be the same dialect as what people here used.

He let a silent breath filter through his teeth, annoyed. He couldn’t see the victim from here, and he couldn’t get anything from the conversation beyond that no one in that room sounded happy. There had to be some way for him to get a better vantage point…

Up toward the top of the rooms was a lattice work, enough to ensure a level of privacy but also let air flow through the building. A quick glance, and yes, no one in the room next door. Conan heaved a chair on top of the cot near the adjoining wall. It wasn’t exactly a steady situation, but needs must.

Conan clambered to the top and found himself still just a bit too short to see to the other side.

With a mental deluge of swearing, he had the brilliant idea of jumping the last few centimeters to hook his fingers through the lattice and drag himself up enough to view.

Ow. Both uncomfortable, and was going to be difficult to get down from, but he could see into the other room. There were three men standing around a male corpse, the body laid out on an exam table. The man looked like he died from a head wound, between the amount of blood congealing around his head and the fact that the back of his clothes seemed to be drenched in it. Head wounds bled a lot, quickly. There were other injuries too. Blood on his fingers, leg, maybe more on the man’s back, but impossible to see without close examination.

A head wound and scraped hands. That could easily be from fighting someone off, but it was a lot more likely to be from a fall. A fall didn’t rule out murder. With Conan’s luck it was pretty much guaranteed to be murder, but he could hope that it wasn’t.

His focus was drawn back to the room at large when someone pulled a stringed instrument from… somewhere. It was some kind of qin. How had he missed such a large instrument? Why was there such a large instrument? As he watched, the men grew silent as the musician began to play. It almost… it almost looked like some of the notes were playing by themselves.

Conan squinted, trying to figure out the trick, but as he tried to pull himself up just a bit closer to the lattice—a few centimeters could make all the difference—his foot braced against the wall slipped.

“Sh—” He cut himself off, clinging with his fingertips as his hands suddenly took his full weight. Ow! The floor was a lot further away when hanging near the ceiling from a bit of carved wood. If he was any heavier, the lattice probably would have broken already.

Okay. Okay, he could do this. He just. Had to get a bit away to a clear patch of floor and drop. Or drop on the cot and hope it didn’t collapse or send the chair flying. …He knew he should have brought his suspenders. Those would be really useful right now.

By some shred of luck, the people on the other side of the wall didn’t seem to have noticed him slipping. The music kept playing with the weird serious intensity about it. If Conan could just get down, no one would be the wiser…

Slowly, he moved his hands a bit to the right. His arms were already aching, but this was fine. Conan still had the situation under control. Just half a meter more…

He slipped. Of course he slipped, he was in an annoying child body with a child’s annoying limitations, and Conan hated this situation so freaking much.

Conan clenched his eyes closed as his fingers lost their battle with the lattice, bracing for a crash, pain, the inevitable of everyone in the next room finding him and tossing him out of the compound before he could even get into solving the case.

Instead, two hands caught his middle.

“Kid, you are definitely not supposed to be here.”

Conan opened his eyes and looked up to see the man from the library. Despite the censure of his words, he didn’t actually look upset about finding Conan scaling the walls to spy on people. The person behind him, on the other hand, had a scowl that could peel paint.

“Eavesdropping is not allowed,” the second man said in clipped English.

“Lan Zhan. Chill, he’s like, eight tops.”

Conan really hated how being physically a kid made absolutely no one take him seriously. But then again, he was less likely to get in trouble if he played the little kid card. He let his eyes go wide and repentant. “I’m almost seven,” he said.

“See, practically a baby.”

Okay that was a little too demeaning. “I’m not a baby!”

Lan Zhan said something in Mandarin. The man still holding Conan by his armpits responded in English. “Okay but the baby Lans are exceptions to the rule. Except for Lan Jingyi. He gets what it’s like to be a child.”

“Wei Ying,” Lan Zhan said in a tone of someone long-suffering but fond.

“Right, right.” Wei Ying swung Conan around and set him on the table so fast that Conan felt dizzy. “So. What made a kid like you spy on a bunch of old guys in a medical room?”

“Uh.” No matter how many times he got put on the spot, it never really got easier to come up with things on the fly. And it’s not like he could say he heard about this on TV. “I saw people going this direction when the alarm happened,” he said, stretching truth into his story because it always helped to give it a bit of backbone. “And there was blood on the ground and people at dinner were worried about their friend, and I thought I could find out if it was him so they’d worry less.”

Wei Ying gave him a skeptical once-over. “And you jumped from a few drops of blood to deciding that it had to be from their missing friend and that the people in this direction were, what, covering it up? Kid, that would be really weird.”

“That sort of thing happens a lot,” Conan said truthfully.

“People covering up dead bodies?”

“Yes. Or making dead bodies.”

Wei Ying stared, eyebrows going up, before glancing over his shoulder like his friend might have some sort of insight. Lan Zhan’s face was still set in a cold, judgmental stare, so Conan wasn’t sure if there was any actual communication going on there, or if Wei Ying was doing an equivalent of ‘do you see this??’ at him.

“Hey Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying said, “I think this kid might be cursed. Because none of that is normal. Do you know how many dead bodies a person outside of hospitals and funeral homes run into in a year? Because the answer is none. Little kids in particular should not be running into corpses on the regular.”

“I live with a detective,” Conan said.

“He takes you with him to investigate homicides?” Wei Ying said, looking horrified.

“Er.” Conan made his eyes go wider and tried to channel cute, child-y vibes. “He doesn’t try to, but a lot of the time people just… die.”

“On cases.”

Conan nodded.

Wei Ying said something to Lan Zhan in Mandarin. Conan couldn’t parse the words, but the tone made it clear he was still stuck on the whole cursed thing. People were so superstitious. First the police back home, now some random people at a Chinese temple-resort? (Conan still wasn’t sure how to refer to this place and its oddities.) Yes, he ran into a lot of bodies, but it wasn’t that weird. Running into violent crimes was part of why it had been important to live with Mouri in the first place…

“Right,” Wei Ying said, making Conan’s attention snap back to him. “So you’re going to leave the people in the next room to do their thing, and we’re going to get you back to your family.”

“But I didn’t get a chance to check on how the man was d—”

“He is dead,” Lan Zhan said, blunt and clipped and a bit different in accent than Wei Ying speaking English. His face was expressionless.

“You’re sure?”

“Ah, very sure,” Wei Ying said. “No one’s losing that much blood and living. Maybe hold off on telling his friends that though. There’s an investigation going on.”

Conan caught the implications. “You think they had something to do with it?”

“Eh? Well, maybe? But honestly, we don’t need people panicking over a death before we have all the facts.”

Conan grimaced, knowing exactly the level of chaos several dozen panicking people could produce. “Someone has to talk to them about something though. The longer their friend is missing, the more they’re going to get scared. And to know if they did it.”

“You’re stuck on one of them doing it, huh?”

“Well,” Conan shrugged, “most murders are done by people close to the victim. Unless it’s an assassin or a stalker.”

Wei Ying pinched the bridge of his nose. “Mm, really want to talk to your guardian, kiddo. Do they even know where you are? Didn’t think so.” Wei Ying sighed. “Lan Zhan.”

“Mm, time to return to the guest rooms,” Lan Zhan said.

“Wait!” Conan said. He scrambled off the table. “I don’t even know how he died yet!”

“Look, I’m only telling you this so you stop snooping,” Wei Ying said squatting to be closer to Conan’s eye level. While he appreciated the chance to look someone in the eye without craning his neck, it also felt demeaning. Conan frowned at him. Behind them, Lan Zhan made an unhappy sound. “Lan Zhan, he was in the library with me when this guy would have died. Anyway. That guy? Died falling from a cliff. So there, curiosity satisfied, go find your designated adult.”

“I’m not helpless,” Conan protested automatically, though he let himself be pushed toward the door. His mind whirled over the new information, matching the injuries he’d made out on the corpse to the cause of death. Very probable that it was the truth. Next door, the music stopped and Wei Ying all but herded him and Lan Zhan out of the room.

“I’ll handle things here, take the kiddo to his people.”

“I have a name!” Conan protested.

“That’s nice.”

Conan wrinkled his nose as Wei Ying leaned in quick to press a kiss against Lan Zhan’s face. PDA? Really? And kissing openly in China? Apparently with all those rules, somehow public displays of affection and homosexuality weren’t included. Nice to know.

“Bye-bye,” Wei Ying said with a cheery wave.

Then Lan Zhan’s hand closed over Conan’s shoulder and pushed him firmly toward the exit, leaving Conan no choice but to walk away from this particular mystery.

*o*

He half expected to get a lecture the moment Wei Ying was gone, but instead Lan Zhan remained intimidatingly silent. Conan shot him a few uncertain glances, not quite sure what to make of him. If his boyfriend(?) was dressed casually, Lan Zhan was the exact opposite. He looked like one of those people who rarely had a hair out of place. Even his clothing was neat and stain-free despite being white robes and being in the middle of nowhere up a mountain. Add to that the eerie lack of expression now that he was no longer scowling, he could easily pass for a model or something. Someone intimidating and unapproachable.

It wouldn’t be odd to picture him leading a meditation circle or something…

Conan wasn’t going to get away from him though, not when Lan Zhan kept one hand on his shoulder the entire time like he was just waiting for Conan to try and run off again. Which was fair. Conan would absolutely hare off after anything that popped up that looked like a clue.

The rush of people from earlier were gone, just two pairs of white-robed people patrolling the main roadway between the buildings.

They had swords.

Conan would have zeroed in on that more except there was a flash of movement out of the corner of his eye. Kudo Shinichi’s face was there, clear as day under the edge of one of the guest quarters’ buildings. Conan stopped dead, barely feeling Lan Zhan’s fingers tighten their grip. “You!” he said, too loud in the silent courtyard.

‘Shinichi’ looked up, saw Conan, and paled before pasting over the self-assured confidence that Conan used to have before everything fell apart. “Yo! If it isn’t the little detective,” he said cheerfully.

Conan wiggled free from Lan Zhan, ignoring the sound of disapproval behind him as he stormed forward. “What the hell are you doing here?” he hissed in Japanese. “And with that face! I told you not to wear that face!” It wasn’t even as good a job as usual. Kid—because this could only be Kaitou Kid—looked like a Shinichi who’d been given a noogie while wearing hair gel. “Are you stalking me?”

“I had no idea you were here, Tantei-kun, but that does explain why everything’s gone bellies up. Your poor karma strikes again.” Kid snorted as Conan scowled.

Conan didn’t even have his soccer ball belt on right now, but he could probably wipe the grin off Kid’s face if he kicked him in the shin.

“Mr. Kuroba,” Lan Zhan said behind Conan—Conan caught a flinch Kid couldn’t quite hold in—recapturing Conan’s shoulder firmly. “You should not be out of your room. It is not safe for guests to wander at the moment.”

Kuroba, huh? Where did Conan know that name from…?

“Ah, sorry Mr. Lan,” Kid said with a little bob that barely counted as a bow. “I thought perhaps I could offer my assistance.”

“None that you could provide are currently needed.”

What help? Stealing something? Well, no, Kid wasn’t useless at a murder investigation, but he was no detective. Some flashy sleight of hand wasn’t going to be much use in finding out who pushed a man from a cliff though. Wait. Sleight of hand… “Are you a Kuroba Toichi fanboy?” Conan blurted in Japanese, remembering the hours his mother had gushed about his skills and abused the disguise skills the man had taught her. Actually, the more he thought about it, the more sense it made. Kid’s style had a lot similar to what Conan remembered from the couple of performances he’d been dragged to. “You are, aren’t you? You’re even copying his stage presence.”

Kid flushed, paled, flushed again, like he couldn’t decide if he was mortified, angry, or who knew what behind that grit-toothed smile.

“Mr. Kuroba Kaito?” Lan Zhan cut in, clearly not amused by being ignored, but Conan could care less.

“Wow. That’s an awful pun. What happened to Doito Katsuki?” Conan could almost forget to be angry about Kid wearing his face with all this joke fodder to hold over him. “You really chose to have a play on ‘thief’ for your first name?”

“Please shut up.”

Lan Zhan huffed. “I see you both know each other and are equally bad at doing what you are told,” he said coldly.

“Ahaaaa.” Kid rubbed the back of his head. It made the hair even more of a mess. “Sorry, sorry, I really was going to offer my help. And I didn’t even know my…cousin…was here.”

Cousin. Well, they did look related for obvious reasons. Of course ‘Conan’ looked like ‘Shinichi’. “I thought Shinichi-nii-san was still busy with a case in Japan!” Conan chirped in English.

Too brightly, because both men side-eyed him.

“Well, Conan-kun, I was following a lead.” Lan Zhan frowned like something in that explanation didn’t match what reason Kid had given to be there. Kid turned to Lan Zhan. “Sorry my cousin is being a nosy brat. He can’t help it.”

Conan pointedly kicked him in the shin, feeling a prick of satisfaction as Kid cut off a hiss of pain. “You’re just as nosy,” Conan said with his innocent-little-kid smile on.

“I am going to flirt with Mouri-chan for that,” Kid hissed in Japanese.

“Try it. I can kick rocks with just as much accuracy as a ball, and you don’t have to have a big target for me to hit you where it hurts most,” Conan shot back, still smiling. Also in Japanese because he wasn’t stupid.

Lan Zhan looked between them before visibly deciding he didn’t want to have anything to do with whatever tension was going on between them. “Mr. Kuroba, please return to you room. I am taking…”

“Edogawa Conan,” Conan said because he realized he never gave them his name.

“Mr. Edogawa back to his guardians.”

“Ah, maybe I’ll go stay with them,” Kid said.

Lan Zhan sighed, done with both of them. “Wherever you go, please stay there until someone comes by to inform you it is safe to leave your rooms.”

“Right, right!” Kid said with a laidback grin that didn’t fit quite right on ‘Shinichi’s face. Too wide, a bit too round in the cheeks. Kid’s impersonations weren’t always flawless it seemed. “We’ll do our best to keep out of trouble.”

Lan Zhan said something under his breath in Mandarin. Conan was willing to bet it was some variation of “I highly doubt that.” Then, hand coming down on Conan’s shoulder again, they were herded the rest of the way toward Conan’s room.

Kid, now that his actions were decided on, strolled casually like he didn’t have a care in the world. What was he here to steal? Or was there even anything to take? The place was so minimalistic. That didn’t mean there couldn’t be a relic of some sort set with a hefty gem; places with history often had objects with a lot of value. Still, it seemed like a lot to come all the way to China. Kid had almost exclusively stuck with Japan since his return from an eight-year hiatus.

“So,” Kid said to Conan in Japanese, as casual as if they were just catching up, “what’s the situation?”

“Why should I tell you?”

“Hmm, maybe because I’ve helped before in the past? I’m guessing it’s a murder, since the only time I run into dead bodies seems to be when you’re nearby.”

Conan scowled. “If you start up about being cursed, I’m going to kick you where it hurts.”

“Oh ho?” Kid lifted an eyebrow, grinning. “Is that what you’re doing here?”

“What?”

“Seeking a cure for a curse?”

Conan frowned, squinting up at Kid’s ever-masked face. “Curses aren’t real. I’m here because Mouri won a sketchy trip to China from a shop by the race tracks.”

Kid nodded slowly. “Huh. I could see someone thinking it was Mouri Kogoro who was cursed, not you, since most people don’t know how often you run into bodies even when he isn’t around.”

“I’m not cursed! I just—”

“Attract murderers and corpses,” Kid finished. “I never ran into dead people before you. Now there’s murderers and corpses all over these days.”

“Oh, and none of that is related to you being a criminal,” Conan said scathingly.

“For your information, the number of times a person pointed a gun at me before I met you could be counted on one hand.”

“Really?” That didn’t feel like it was right. Somehow it seemed like Kid surely had to have had police aim at him, if not a criminal.

“Yes,” Kid said emphatically. “Because having guns pointed at you isn’t normal. The average person in Japan neither runs into murder victims nor rogue gunmen. You’re just a statistical outlier.”

Conan kicked at Kid’s ankles, but was rudely dodged. Lan Zhan’s hand on his shoulder kept him from following. Conan hated Kid sometimes. Bad enough he wore Shinichi’s face, he had to mock him too.

“No fighting in the Cloud Recesses,” Lan Zhan said in a firm tone.

“It’s play fighting,” Conan lied.

“Tell that to my bruises,” Kid muttered under his breath.

“We are here,” Lan Zhan said as they reached one of the guest buildings. Conan had missed their arrival with how the few guest housing buildings looked identical. “Return to your room and stay there, please.” He pushed Conan firmly toward the door. “You as well, Mr. Kuroba.”

“Of course,” Kid said with a smile, catching Conan’s shoulder before he could squirm away. “Good luck with your investigation.” With a little half-bow, Kid pushed Conan through the door and shut it behind them.

A frowning resident of the Cloud Recesses stood just to the side of the door.

Kid gave her a reassuring grin, still shoving Conan along.

“Stop pushing!”

“Start walking then,” Kid said lightly. “Which door is yours?”

“Toward the end,” Conan said unhappily. “But I don’t want you wearing that face. How are you going to explain Kudo Shinichi being here in China?”

“Maybe he won a mysterious prize like your snoozing detective,” Kid said. They ducked into a side hallway, all the doors closed, and no one in view. “So, is there a body?”

“Yes,” Conan said sourly. “One body.”

“Mm, one so far, got it.”

“You’re going to jinx us.”

“I thought you didn’t believe in superstition?” Kid tilted his head to the side, a smirk that was too wide for Shinichi’s face on his lips.

Smug asshole, Conan thought. “Your face,” he said demandingly.

“I could change it,” Kid said, “but—” He held up a finger to stop Conan’s protest before it could even start. “But, this is the current face that people here are aware of me as, and I would rather not have a twitchy, paranoid disciple attacking me just because I’m the one face that isn’t on the guest list.”

Conan rolled his eyes. “There’s dozens of people here. They’re not going to notice one—”

“Tantei-kun. They’ll notice.” Kid was dead serious. Conan had seen him serious before, even if it seemed like Kid’s first instinct at any given moment was to deflect or charm anyone before him. “It may not seem like it, but they are very serious about security here, and they keep track of who is and isn’t allowed to be here at any given moment to an obsessive degree. I am not getting attacked or kicked out just to make you feel better.”

Yet again, Conan wondered what the hell sort of place this was. “They’re an ascetic resort,” he grumbled. “What do they need that level of security? Is there some kind of cover-up going on here?” Actually, that was entirely probable. That library could have held who knew what sort of information and valuables. Let alone the myriad of other buildings and kilometers of mountain land.

Kid snorted. “There’s nothing illegal going on, but they do like their secrets. It’s closer to a religious cult than anything else.”

“Rule worshippers?” Conan joked even as he turned the thought over in his head. Some sort of religious group would make sense with the remote location, the whole robe thing, the focus on practically monastic living, and even the large collection of old books. It fit, but it wasn’t a pleasant concept. If it was a cult, then who knew what sort of things they did behind the scenes? They could even be responsible for the death. Perhaps not though, with how they were reacting…

Kid laughed. “Ugh, yeah there are way too many rules. It makes me want to break as many as possible in a spectacular manner before they boot me out of this place.”

“Such a pity you have to behave or you won’t get what you came here for.”

“Exactly.”

“That was sarcasm.”

“And I’m being entirely serious,” Kid retorted. His expressions were a lot more fluid than usual, Conan noted. More fluid than Shinichi’s generally were, almost like he’d only taken Shinichi’s face as a template and added a few changes for personal taste.

Conan still hated it. “I’m not backing down about your face.”

Kid rolled his eyes so hard his head practically moved with them. “I’m not changing it. I don’t even look that much like Kudo Shinichi at the moment. This face is clearly far more handsome.”

“Excuse me?” Conan’s eyes narrowed. A bit rounder face, a wider smile and eyes that smiled a bit easier were not huge differences. Nor was hair with permanent bedhead. Perhaps the eye color was a bit darker, but perfectly matching eye color was hard; Kid probably used contacts and the shade of his natural eye color would affect the end result. Even with those small differences, Conan couldn’t say that Kid was more attractive than Shinichi’s features. Also, he was kind of insulted that Kid would suggest otherwise.

“Not that Kudo Shinichi is bad for the eyes, but he’s just not as charismatic,” Kid continued, “and charisma adds to anyone’s looks.”

“Fuck you.”

“You know, I’m pretty sure swearing is against the ru—ow.”

Conan had no regrets kicking Kid once again. It finally wiped the damn smugness off his face.

“A little defensive of your ‘cousin’ there, Edogawa,” Kid grumbled. He rubbed at his shin where there had to be quite a few bruises starting. “Look, I am not changing my face, but I won’t use Kudo’s name either. I’m just Kuroba Kaito, Japanese high school student visiting for a personal research project.”

“Is that how you’re spinning it.”

Kid shrugged, stepping back out into the hall. Conan wanted to drag him back, but he really had been gone long enough that Ran was sure to be worried. “I am here for a personal research project. It’s just not academic in the least.”

“Because it’s illegal.”

“Research isn’t.”

Semantics. Conan would keep arguing, but they were at the correct door. Instead, he knocked before the door was yanked open from the inside like someone on the other end was just waiting to open it.

“Conan-kun!” Ran said, furious and worried as she yanked him into a hug. “I was so worried! Don’t wander off like that!”

“Ah, I just wanted to know what was going on!” Conan said, wiggling in her grip. He liked her hugs. Really. But between Kid watching and the ever-present guilt being squashed to her chest brought, now was not one of the moments to enjoy it. “I didn’t mean to get separated.”

Ran pulled back, seeing right through him. She knew him too well, Conan and Shinichi both, to believe that he hadn’t intentionally ran in a direction with trouble.

“Don’t make excuses; you always end up right—in… the middle… Shinichi?” Ran stared over Conan at where Kid stood, his hands in his pockets, watching them interact like it was a mildly interesting TV show.

“Kudo?” Mouri’s voice growled from inside the room. “If that brat is here-”

Conan flinched as Mouri appeared behind Ran, full angry-father mode.

Kid, being the asshole that he was, blinked at them like he’d never heard the name Kudo Shinichi in his life. “Who, me? Oh, no, I’m Kaito. Kuroba Kaito.” He did a quick twist of his wrist, making a paper flower appear in his hand and offering it to Ran. “Amateur magic enthusiast. Pleasure to meet you. I was just escorting this guy home.” He patted Conan on the head with his free hand and Conan swatted his touch away.

Mouri glowered as Ran accepted the flower hesitantly. Her eyes flicked across Kid’s face, no doubt spotting all the little details that Conan had in how Kid’s face differed from Shinichi’s.

“Thank you?” Ran said, more of a question than an actual thanks.

“And you must be this child’s family?” Kid said like this was a perfectly normal situation and meeting them for the first time.

“He’s just a freeloader,” Mouri said, looking Kid over like he was searching for a trick. Like Kid was a trap.

Honestly, it would have been admirable instinct except that Conan knew it was only motivated by dislike for Shinichi.

“A doppelganger?” Ran said with a frown at her flower.

“He’s never met Shinichi-nii-san,” Conan piped up in his ‘little-kid’ voice. “It’s so funny that they look alike!”

“Funny,” Mouri said flatly. “Right. Well, thanks for bringing back the troublemaker. Better get back to being stuck in a room with absolutely nothing to do.”

“Ah.” Kid somehow made himself look believably abashed and apologetic, and just a bit shy. It was such a weird look on him that Conan couldn’t help staring. “I was hoping… Ah, I was told not to go back out, and I was hoping I might be able to have some company until we’re allowed out. I have a pack of cards?” he offered, pulling one from his pocket. “It would give us something to do?”

Mouri looked at the cards, looked at Kid’s too-familiar face, and sighed. “Whatever. Better than staring at the walls.”

Conan was sure he was the only one that saw the flicker of smugness in Kid’s smile. Sadly, there wasn’t a reason to add to Kid’s shin bruises as Ran stepped back to let them inside. Conan resigned himself to having to put up with a phantom thief for the near future.

*O*O*

Wei Ying rubbed at his temples. So, they had something killing people, an unhappy dead guy, and a potentially cursed child in the mix. He’d thought the kid was a little weird in the library, but there was ‘strange child’ syndrome and there was ‘well beyond the realm of normal’ and they had to be pretty far past normal for a child under ten to be so calm after seeing a dead body. No, not just calm. Curious, driven, and intent. He had caught the kid literally climbing the walls after all.

Wei Ying didn’t have a ton of experience with children. Just some visits with Shijie and adorably grumpy Jin Ling, who was pre-verbal, and every few months seeing Wen Yuan when he visited Wen Qing and Wen Ning. Wen Yuan was only three, ridiculously easygoing, and usually well behaved. And okay, Wei Ying had a bit of experience working with younger cultivators, both at Cloud Recesses and before with the Jiangs, but that was closer to pre-teen age, not barely-school-age.

Even without any real experience with that age group, he knew the kid definitely wasn’t responding like a child should. Wei Ying would know how a kid responded to trauma. He’d lived trauma around that age.

Ugh.

Too many problems, not enough answers.

There’d been an energy for a moment back there, right before he caught the kid… Not quite resentful, not quite spiritual, something strange and yet not strange at all in a way he didn’t have a definition for yet.

In the next room, the music was petering away. Wei Ying shook his head and moved toward the door.

The cultivators playing were people he should probably know the names of by now. Because he was terrible with names and not really allowed to go to sect meetings, Wei Ying had never really figured out who they were other than only one of them actually had the surname “Lan.” He pasted on a smile as heads jerked in his direction. “Ah, looks like you’ve been busy here.”

“Wei Ying,” Lan Qiren said from the corner, looking like he wanted to jump right into a lecture, but didn’t have a topic quite yet. He seemed to always think the worst of Wei Ying. It wasn’t Wei Ying’s fault that his nephew fell in love with the most morally dubious cultivator currently still active. (Xue Yang, stripped of his cultivation and in prison didn’t count no matter how creepy he was.)

Because he was never going to get the man’s approval, Wei Ying had long stopped bothering to try, preferring to be himself. Lan Zhan loved him; that was enough. Wei Ying ignored the whole group and strode over to the body.

It was pale, still stained with blood, eyes the awful glassy filmy look that the dead had, disconcertingly half open. The man had guest robes on, and clearly had a painful time of it as he died. Lots of injuries. Not a great way to go. “So, what does the corpse know?”

“For the last time,” Lan Qiren said, “Inquiry speaks to spirits, not corpses—”

“Yeah, yeah, but this guy isn’t whole. There were bits of spirit at the cliff too.” Violent deaths and all. He would pull together eventually, either becoming a resentful ghost, or passing on, but for now he was a bit of a mess, physically and spiritually.

One of the Lan made an interested sound, but Lan Qiren shot him a frown. “We had gathered that some parts might be missing. He seems to be confused about why he was out there alone in the first place.”

“Really?” The spirit hadn’t felt confused. Maybe Wei Ying’s side got the bits with that memory. “What about what pushed him? The scraps of him at the site mostly just remembered dying.”

“What method did you—”

“We’re looking into the potential murder of a guest; do my methods really matter that much at the moment?” Wei Ying said lightly. He looked at the corpse’s hands. The nails were torn, and there was a cut on one wrist, probably where the blood at the top of the cliff came from. The resentment on the body was the same desperation-tinged feeling as the bottom of the cliff; he hadn’t wanted to die and was unhappy about it.

Lan Qiren’s lips thinned. “The man’s name is Shen Ming, and he was part of a group of students here for a week of rest to purge their bodies of stress from their studies.” Wei Wuxian took in the name and almost immediately forgot it. Murder victim a student here with friends, important info memorized. “He did not get a clear view of what killed him, but he is sure that he was pushed.”

“Yeah, he’s pretty firm about that.” Wei Ying tried to find anything out of place on the body. Injuries aside, he was wearing one of the plain guest robes that the Cloud Recesses loaned to guests that stayed more than a weekend. Nothing stood out. Nothing on him that seemed like it would attract a vengeful ghost or any other sort of spirit. “He saw something while he was dying. A person with long hair up above, but it seems likely it was a ghost with the traces of resentment and the lack of physical evidence of its presence besides, well, the victim.”

“Our wards should keep that sort of spirit out.” Lan Qiren’s frown had gone concerned. Wei Ying felt a twinge of sympathy, because if the wards weren’t working right, they would have to go all around the mountain shoring up weak points. They had children here; they couldn’t take chances with their lives.

He shifted from foot to foot. “You know, I could…with a few talismans…”

Lan Qiren held up a hand, frown etched deeper in his brow. “Not yet. If our methods fail, then you may try yours, but it would be preferable to rely on orthodox cultivation methods.”

“Right.” Wei Ying sighed. No one ever wanted to use his inventions, not even the ones that weren’t actively using resentful energy. “I could at least add more wards to the guest quarters? All one hundred percent orthodox, Lan approved talismans, I swear.”

“Hm. That would be appreciated,” Lan Qiren said, looking like it was painful to express any kind of gratitude in Wei Ying’s direction.

“Awesome, I’ll get on that.” While leaving Lan disciples to try and find a spirit that shouldn’t have been able to get in here in the first place. Ugh. It would be so much easier if he could lay down some evil attracting talismans. While it wasn’t a guarantee of luring the spirit out, it was a lot more likely to find it than combing through bushes in the woods around them. “One more thing; what are we telling the group he was with?”

He got a grimace in response and a weary pinch to the bridge of Lan Qiren’s nose. “While it would be better for the investigation to withhold anything about what happened, for legal reasons, we’re going to have to disclose that he’s dead. Call it an accident for the moment.”

“At least until we have a face to pin the attack on. Er, if the group is involved.”

“They might be. And they might be this spirit’s next victims if they weren’t directing it to kill their companion. Now I need to go talk to the sect lawyer because this is going to be a mess when it gets out.”

Wei Ying winced. Boy was he glad that it wasn’t his job to do that. He also hoped that no one in the cultivation world would take this to be somehow his fault. Get blacklisted once, and everyone looked at you funny for anything that went wrong around you. “Good luck with that. I’ll just…” Wei Ying motioned at the body.

“Don’t do anything questionable to the body,” Lan Qiren said wearily, but it was testament to how stressed he was that that was the only thing he said before leaving.

Which left Wei Ying, a corpse, and a couple higher ups in the sect. the cultivators eyed him like they were anticipating having to chuck him out of the room. Wei Ying ignored then because he tried to give judgmental assholes as little of his attention as possible. For his mental health.

The corpse was, well, very dead. And bloody. A congealing bloody mess going into rigor mortis. The worst stage of a corpse before the decomposition kicked in. (Okay, no, the failure of bodily functions was up there in worst stages and—actually maybe he wasn’t going to think about all the grossness that happened when a person died.)

More for show than actually expecting to find anything, Wei Ying carefully shifted folds of cloth, looking for any objects that the man might have been carrying. Someone scoffed behind him, but Wei Ying ignored them. The resentment from a murdered body was pretty strong. An inactive object could hold resentment and be masked by the body’s energy. He opened the front of the robes and, “Oh, hey.” There was a necklace. A piece of heavy thread knotted at the back, and only a single wooden bead strung to it.

Traces of resentment clung to the bead.

Wei Ying maneuvered the thread over the victim’s head. He let the bead dangle, not touching it just yet because he had some sense no matter what Jiang Cheng used to say. His brother was biased. “This is the sort of thing you guys were supposed to be looking for,” Wei Ying said to the room at large.

“Oh, go do your heretical cultivation somewhere else,” the person who scoffed before said.

Wei Ying rolled his eyes. “Sure. I’ll go away right when you actually need me.” The person started saying something else, but Wei Ying went back to ignoring them. The bead was about as big around as his thumbnail, smooth and glossy like it had been lacquered not too long ago. Nothing carved or written on it. No obvious reason to hold resentment. Well—besides the fact that a murder victim had been holding it. Wei Ying was sure that this resentment was a bit different from the corpse’s though. He was sensitive to that kind of thing.

Anger, not fear and desperation. Something bitter mixed in. Regret, maybe, or betrayal. The bead wasn’t cursed, but it might have been possessed at some point. He poked it with a cautious finger, barely brushing the surface before pulling his hand away. Nothing. “Well, that’s disappointing.” Whatever it had been, it was drained now.

He looped the thread around the corpse’s wrist. It was a bad idea to steal something from someone who died violently after all.

“What’s happening to the body now?” Wei Ying asked one of the nearby disciples.

The woman frowned at him, but answered, which was nicer than some people managed around here. “It will be moved to cold storage until arrangements for a funeral are made and it can be transported back. There isn’t much more we can get from the body after all.”

Wei Ying nodded. “And his friends?”

“Can view the body, but it will likely upset them.” The woman laid a cover over the corpse, giving it a bit of dignity in death that it otherwise hadn’t been granted so far. “Hopefully the spirit that caused this is found soon and this whole thing can be put behind us.”

“Yeah, random deaths are kind of bad for online reviews,” Wei Ying joked. That got him annoyed looks all around. A tough crowd. He should have known better than to try and joke with a Lan that wasn’t Lan Zhan. He sighed. “Well, guess I should break the news to his group.” This was going to be a shit show.

He’d have to grab Lan Zhan for moral support.

#detective conan #the untamed #mdzs #dcmk #fanfiction #my writing #crossover

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stayinzencity · 3 years ago

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heroine's manual S1 E2

♡ previous episode

♡ return to main

TWO. We've known each other since childhood, so I understand him better than everyone else.

You don't know her name. You guess it doesn't really matter. She won't be around for long, will she? She's just a side character, so it's ok. Let her have a chance. It won't last long anyway.

She's a nice girl. You can see that. But that's never been enough before, so why does it seem like something's different now?

You lay your head down on the table, picking at a loose thread on your sweater sleeve. The seats on either side of you are taken by Seungmin and Jisung, the latter nudging you.

“Are you alright? You’re awfully pouty today,” Jisung asks. “What’s wrong?”

You sigh. “Nothing.”

“It’s the girl from yesterday, isn’t it? I heard she asked Minho out. Is that what’s got you bothered?” Seungmin doesn’t wait for you to respond, deciding he’s right himself. “Strange. You don’t usually let the green monster out.”

“Green monster? I’m not jealous,” you insist making an X with your hands. “No way. Why do I have to be jealous? She’s nobody.”

But then you spot Minho and her coming to lunch together, his smile and interest in her seeming more genuine than he usually shows to his girlfriends. If she’s just another fling, why is he acting like that?

You understand him better than anyone else, don't you? There can't be anyone more suited for him than you, right?

Then why is she the one beside him? How have you been replaced? Wasn't that your place?

Have you become the second female lead? Have you been pushed to the side, so that girl can shine?

Were you wrong all this time?

“She confessed, fair and square. Meanwhile, you’re here moping when you didn’t even try. You never had a chance, because all you do is stand at the side and watch from afar as he goes through relationships,” Seungmin points out when you reveal your worries to him.

“See, I told you to confess.” Jisung huffs, sharing half of his cake slice with you and swatting Seungmin when he tries to snatch some. “What’s her name anyway? Hyunjin would know, right? I think they were lab partners. And I think he used to have a crush on her too. Anyway, now it’s too late, unless you steal him away from her. ”

If that’s what it takes to get Minho, then that’s what you’ll do. “You’re a genius, Jisung.” You jump out of your seat, shoving the last pieces of food into your mouth.

“Uh sure?” Jisung looks at you with confusion as you hurry away.

Meanwhile, Seungmin facepalms. “You just gave her a bad idea. Fantastic.”

Heather. That’s her name. Or well, it’s not her actual name but the one you’ve assigned her. She’s the titular character of that Conan Grey song that you’ve been playing on repeat the entire week as you lay sprawled on your bed, staring at the ceiling and contemplating the latest twist in your story. Except you’re prettier and better than her in every way, of course.

You are less of a giver of advice than a receiver. Nevertheless, you walk up to Heather. “Heather! I hope you’re well,” you beam at her. You can play the role of the benevolent best friend of the hero. Minho will fall for you if he sees how kind, accepting and mature you are being, right?

“I’m not-”

“I heard you’re dating Minho. Congratulations!” With a concerned voice you continue, “I want to warn you not to get attached to him. He’s a wonderful boyfriend, but his relationships never last long.”

“Ok. Why are you telling me this? I'm already aware of what Minho's like. Watching him from afar and secretly crushing on him for so long- I know it’s a miracle that I even have a chance now, and I’m going to make the most out of it. I have no intention of giving up so easily.”

You stare at her, taken aback. How can she be so bold trying to replace your role? You’re the heroine, not her.

You want to be selfish- without the label of 'selfish' stuck to you. You’re the heroine of this story, not the villain. Trying to get between the hero and his girlfriend doesn’t put you in the wrong, right? You’re fighting for your love, that’s all. There’s nothing wrong with that, it’s admirable even.

“I was going through my closet yesterday when I found these.” You bring out photo albums from your bag. “Minho’s really cute as a kid, isn’t he?” Your classmates hover around your desk, eager to take a look.

Childhood photos. That’s your first weapon.

You turn to Heather with an album. “Here, you should see the pictures too.” When Heather sees how long your deep bond with Minho has lasted, she’ll realize she has no chance and back off.

Except she doesn’t look disheartened. She just smiles pleasantly. “Wow, you two are adorable. It’s so nice that you’ve been friends since you were kids.”

“Right? She's so lucky- the girl that the hero eventually falls for. White horse, kind knight, sweet tender dreams,” Jisung sings dreamily. He’s totally doing this for you, and you adore him for it. “I wish I had a handsome prince as my childhood best friend.”

Hyunjin kicks his chair from behind, scowling. “I’ve known you since you were a toddler, loser.”

“I said handsome- yeah, ok- you’re a prince- let go-” Jisung struggles to get out of the headlock Hyunjin has him in, while Seungmin and you laugh in the background. These losers are your friends, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

“What’s the commotion?” It’s Minho. He narrows his eyes at Hyunjin, deciding that he’s the root of all evil. “20 minutes, 180 degrees. Are you messing with Jisung again?”

“No!” “Yes!”

Chaos erupts in the next few seconds, Hyunjin clambering to get to the other side of the classroom, while Minho follows his movements with a menacing gaze.

You catch Heather watching with a thoughtful look in her eyes. It makes you wonder if she’s just a lonely girl who wants to be loved.

Not that you care about her. She’s your rival. You can’t care if she doesn’t have any friends. It’s none of your business.

“We’re going to the café this evening,” You tell Heather. “Do you want to join us?”

It’s not out of pity that you’re asking her to come along with you and your friends. She’ll see how close your friend group is and it’ll intimidate her. Yep, that’s why. Ulterior motives only, no kind feelings here. Yeah.

Jisung meets your eyes and seems to get the message as he chimes in, "Yeah, you should come along! The more the merrier, after all."

Heather hesitates, glancing between you and Minho. Hyunjin appears at her side, wiping sweat away and sends her a smile with an encouraging nod. "Alright," she says. "If it's not a bother-"

"It's really not," Seungmin cuts in. "We're just hanging out, nothing special. Besides, if anyone's a bother, it's these guys." He accepts Minho's playful punch with a laugh, and sticks his tongue out at a scowling Hyunjin.

Even Heather can't help but smile.

♡ next episode

♡ season one guide

♡ please leave a comment, reblog with tags or send an ask to let me know what you think!!

#skz fic #skz fanfic #skz ff #lee know series #lee know fluff #lee know imagines #lee know scenarios #lee know drabble #stray kids fluff #stray kids fanfic #stray kids fic #stray kids ff #stray kids series #skz scenarios #skz series #skz imagines #skz fluff

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lumosandnoxwriting · 4 years ago

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Everyday, for the rest of forever - Fred Weasley

Title: Everyday, for the rest of forever Pairing: Fred x fem!reader, Fred x Angelina Johnson Summary: Reader watches as the person she loves falls in love with someone else A/N: This is a song fic based on the song Heather by Conan Gray and I highly recommend listening to it while you read!! I got carried away with the ending but I’m not even sorry.

Tags: @bohemianspacebabe @litteralywedonttalkaboutitk

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

I still remember third of December Me in your sweater, you said it looked better On me, than it did you, only if you knew How much I liked you

“How’re you feeling?” Hermione asks quietly as she takes a seat on the edge of Y/N’s bed. She had kept the dorm up half the night with her coughing, so Hermione is pretty sure she knows the answer.

“Like shit,” Y/N answers as she rolls over in bed to look at her friend. Her throat feels raw and her voice is gravelly. Despite the fact that Y/N can feel the heat radiating off her cheeks and she’s laying under a pile of blankets she shivers as a cold chill runs down her spine.

Hermione frowns, and reaches out to touch Y/N’s forehead. “You’ve still got a fever. You sure you don’t want to go to Madam Pomfrey? She can whip up a Pepperup Potion and have you feeling better in a few minutes.”

Y/N nods, waving away the worried look Hermione gives her. “You know that always makes me feel even worse. It’s just a little cold, I’m sure I’ll be fine by tomorrow.”

“If you’re sure.” Hermione stands up, pausing as she reaches for her coat. “Do you want me to stay with you? I don’t mind, there will be other Hogsmeade trips.”

Y/N shakes her head with a laugh, gesturing towards the door of their dorm room. They both can hear Ron and Harry causing some kind of commotion with Seamus and Dean down in the common room despite the fact that the thick wooden door is closed. “I’ll be fine. Those two idiots need you more than me. Someone needs to keep them in check.”

Hermione laughs too, finally pulling on her coat. “You’re not wrong about that. I’ll see you at dinner, yeah?”

“As long as you’ve got a chocolate frog for me, I’ll be there.”

Y/N lays in her bed, tossing and turning, desperately trying to fall asleep. Every time she feels herself start to drift off she either gets hit with a coughing fit or a cold chill. Muttering to herself she forces herself out of bed and trudges towards the common room with her favorite blanket, hoping the raging fire will do a better job of keeping her warm.

The common room is empty when she arrives, and she suspects it will be for the next few hours as most of her housemates are down at Hogsmeade. Y/N settles down on her favorite couch, tucking her knees to her chest and wrapping her blanket around her. She sits there in silence watching the flames when someone comes up behind her.

“No Hogsmeade for you either, eh? You set a stink bomb off in Snape’s office too?” Fred asks with a laugh as he jumps over the back of the couch and settles down next to Y/N.

Y/N’s breath catches in her throat and she hopes that her fever masks the blush that creeps up on her cheeks. She sneaks a quick glance at Fred, taking in his tousled hair and comfy sweater, before turning her attention back to the fire. Fred has been the object of her daydreams for as long as she can remember, his fiery hair and mischievous eyes never failing to cause her stomach to erupt in a flutter of butterflies.

She knows it’s wrong, to fancy the older brother of one of her best mates, but she can’t help it. Whenever she tries to push Fred from her mind he always seems to come back, her feelings for him only more intense. Fred is absolutely captivating, and she can’t help but fall a little more in love with him each time they have some kind of interaction.

“Not quite, I’m afraid,” she says with a giggle, unable to contain how giddy he makes her feel. “I’ve not been feeling well the past few days.”

Y/N watches as Fred takes in her appearance, and she curses herself for not at least trying to look cute. She knows her hair is tied up in a messy pile on top of her head, her cheeks are flushed from the fever and her eyes are glistening with tears from all of the coughing. Another shiver runs down Y/N’s spine, partially from her illness, but mostly from the butterflies Fred’s intense gaze gives her.

“Cold?” Fred asks softly, his hands reaching for the hem of his sweater as Y/N nods. He’s wearing one of his infamous Weasley sweaters, a bright orange F on the chest. Y/N has always wondered what it would feel like to wear Fred’s sweater, how intoxicating it would smell, so she can’t believe her eyes as Fred pulls it over his head and reaches out to give it to her.

Y/N can’t even think straight, let alone reach out and grab the garment from him. Her eyes are trained on the thin gray t-shirt he’s wearing, the outline of his muscles clearly visible now. She’s wondering what it would feel like to grip his built shoulders, what being wrapped in his strong arms might feel like when Fred scooches towards her.

“Here love, arms up,” Fred whispers, unwrapping the blanket draped around Y/N’s shoulders. He’s so close that she can feel his breath on her cheeks and her skin is tingling from his touch.

It would be so easy, Y/N thinks to herself as she lifts her arms up for him. It would be so easy to just lean up a little and kiss him. Her face gets even hotter at the thought of kissing Fred and she has to look away to keep herself from doing it. Y/N can feel Fred slip the sweater over her arms and down over her body. She tucks her arms back into herself, basking in the warmth that the plush knit gives her.

Fred tucks Y/N’s blanket back around her shoulders before he moves away slightly. Their arms are still touching, and Y/N takes a deep breath, trying to calm herself down. But all that does is make her giddier, as all she can smell is Fred.

“So, a stink bomb, eh?” Y/N asks with a small laugh once she’s calmed herself down a few minutes later.

Fred gives Y/N a wicked grin before he excitedly launches into the story. Y/N is laughing in minutes, her sickness not even on her mind anymore. Fred is the only thing she can think about, he’s the center of her universe and everything else around her is just background noise. She’s so entranced by his story and the way his eyes glint with mischief that she doesn’t notice they aren’t alone anymore until George is leaning over the back of the sofa and sticking his head in between them.

“Sorry to interrupt, Y/N but I need to steal my dear brother from you. We’ve got some business with Mr. Filch to deal with,” George says with a wink, clearly indicating that he and his brother are up to no good as per usual.

Fred’s mischievous grin reappears. “It’s all set up then, excellent.” He stands up, and Y/N immediately misses the feeling of his body next to hers. “It was lovely chatting with you, Y/N but I must be off now. I hope you feel better.”

Y/N watches as Fred follows his twin towards the portrait hole, only remembering that she’s still wearing his sweater as they go to leave. “Fred, wait!” When Fred turns back to look at her a blush forms across her cheeks. “You forgot your sweater.” Y/N goes to take it off, but Fred puts his hand up to stop her.

“Nah, keep it. I reckon it looks better on you anyway.” Fred shoots her a wink before he’s disappearing through the portrait hole after George.

Y/N falls back against the couch, her eyelids heavy. She’s asleep within seconds, a smile on her face and thoughts of Fred running through her mind.

but I watch your eyes As she walks by She's got you mesmerized

“You seem to be feeling much better,” Hermione says in lieu of a greeting when Y/N takes a seat next to her at the Gryffindor table for dinner.

Y/N nods, a dreamy smile on her face. How could she not be feeling better after the afternoon she had spent with Fred? After her short nap in the common room, still wrapped up in Fred’s sweater she had decided to pull herself together. She had changed out of her pajamas and tucked Fred’s sweater under her pillow, wanting to keep it to herself for just a bit longer. She managed to make her hair presentable just in time to meet Hermione, Ron and Harry at dinner.

“Did you finally go and see Madam Pomfrey?” Harry asks as they all start to pile food on their plates.

“No, just managed to finally get some good sleep,” Y/N responds, trying to be nonchalant. She allows herself to sneak a glance at Fred, who’s sitting a bit further down the table with George and Lee. They’re all laughing at something Fred has said, and Y/N can’t help but let a tiny smile form on her lips.

“That’s excellent. We’ll be able to work on our charms essay tonight then,” Hermione says, smiling to herself.

Ron shoves a fork full of food in his mouth as he rolls his eyes at Hermione. “Only you would be excited about doing homework on a Saturday.” At least that’s what Y/N thinks he says, his words are muffled from all the food he’s trying to talk around.

Harry laughs at Ron’s antics as Hermione scolds him for speaking with his mouth full, giving Y/N a chance to sneak another look at Fred. Her heart stops beating in her chest when it seems that he’s already gazing at her. But then she notices that he’s not looking at her, just in her direction. She gazes over her shoulder and a frown immediately forms on her face as she notices that Angelina Johnson and Alicia Spinnet have just entered the Great Hall and are heading towards the other end of the table.

Y/N turns her attention back to Fred, watching as he follows Angelina’s every move. His focus is on Angelina completely, despite the fact that both George and Lee are trying to get his attention. Fred smiles at Angelina as she walks by, and her heart breaks when a pink blush forms on his cheeks after she waves at him.

Fred watches her until her and Alicia sit down, his attention finally back on his friends. Y/N tears her eyes away as Fred smiles dopily at George and Lee, not even seeming to care that they’re teasing him.

“You alright, Y/N?” Hermione asks, noticing her unusual silence.

Y/N tries to blink away her tears, praying none of her friends notice. “I’m starting to feel a bit ill again. I think I’ll go and see Madam Pomfrey after all.”

Without another word Y/N gets up and leaves the Great Hall, making a beeline for the Hospital Wing as the tears stream down her face.

Why would you ever kiss me? I'm not even half as pretty

Despite the fact that Madam Pomfrey had in fact been able to cure Y/N’s illness with a Pepperup Potion in under 30 seconds, she had allowed her to spend the night in the Hospital Wing. Madam Pomfrey had claimed it was for observation purposes only, but the wink she sent to Y/N as she bid her goodnight made Y/N sure that the older woman knew she needed some time by herself.

After a night of fitful sleep, her dreams full of images of Fred and Angelina together, Y/N sneaks back up to the common room. Thankfully, it’s early enough that the common room is completely empty as she heads up to her dorm room. She pushes the door to her dorm open quietly, not trying to wake the others.

“Are you alright? We were worried when you never made it back to the common room.” Hermione asks when Y/N is barely through the door. Hermione has always been an early riser, Y/N should have figured she’d already be awake.

Y/N puts her finger over her lips and motions towards the other side of the room, not wanting Hermione to wake up their dorm mates. She barely wants to tell Hermione, her best friend, about her heart break, let alone Lavender and Parvati. The whole school will know by lunch if they find out.

She motions for Hermione to follow her and leads them both into the bathroom attached to their room. Y/N waits until the door is shut completely before she turns to Hermione. “There, no need to get the whole school involved in my business.”

“What in the world is going on with you? And why was Fred Weasley’s sweater under your pillow?” A blush spreads across Y/N’s cheeks before she’s hit with a pang of fear. Her eyes must widen, because Hermione continues a moment later. “Don’t worry I shoved it under your bed before Lavender and Parvati came in.”

Y/N puts her head in her hands. “Thank god.” She takes a deep breath before she looks up at Hermione, the other girl’s gaze is intense, and it makes Y/N feel even worse. “Well to answer your first question yes, I am fine. I wanted to be alone last night so Madam Pomfrey let me stay the night in the Hospital Wing.”

“Well that’s good I suppose. But why did you want to be alone? And that still doesn’t answer the whole Fred thing.”

Y/N rolls her eyes. She loves Hermione, she really does, but she tends to push her buttons sometimes. “Yesterday after everyone went to Hogsmeade I couldn’t sleep so I went down to the common room. Fred sat with me, saw that I was cold, and he let me wear his sweater.” Y/N can feel her cheeks heating up and she looks down to avoid Hermione’s gaze.

Hermione squeals, jumping up and down excitedly. Y/N had trusted Hermione with her secret crush on Fred over the summer, since they would be staying at The Burrow with the Weasley’s before the Quidditch World Cup, and Hermione would have no doubt figured it out on her own. When Y/N doesn’t share Hermione’s excitement she stops jumping and gives Y/N a worried look.

“Something happened, then? During dinner I presume. That’s why you wanted to be alone?”

Y/N nods, trying to blink away the tears that had suddenly formed in her eyes. It’s no wonder Fred doesn’t like me, with all this crying, she thinks to herself. I’m just his little brother’s stupid friend, nothing more. She lets a few tears fall before looking up to Hermione.

“I looked over at him while we were eating, and he was watching Angelina Johnson’s every move. He even blushed when she waved at him, he was bloody entranced by her.” Y/N pauses, and when Hermione doesn’t say anything she keeps rambling, needing to fill the silence. “And why wouldn’t he be? She’s easily the prettiest girl in their year, maybe even in the whole school. And she’s an amazing quidditch player. She’s strong willed and she doesn’t take shit from anyone.”

Y/N trails off and shuffles over to the nearest sink. She puts a hand on either side of the basin and leans forward, studying herself in the mirror. “And me? I’m just Ron’s friend. Ron’s plain old friend. I’m not even half as pretty as Angelina. It was stupid of me to think I ever had a chance with Fred.”

Y/N doesn’t hear Hermione move, so it comes as a surprise when she feels arms wrap around her middle as Hermione pulls her into a hug. “Don’t you dare say that about yourself,” Hermione scolds lightly. “You are smart, and beautiful and funny and kind. Any guy in this school would be lucky to have you as their girlfriend. So. So, to hell with Fred Weasley if he doesn’t like you back. He doesn’t deserve someone like you.”

Y/N manages to smile at Hermione’s words, her spirit picking up a little bit. “I’m never gonna be able to look at him again ‘mione. He was being so nice to me. I thought something was gonna happen between us. I was gonna kiss him! Can you imagine if I had? I’d be dead from embarrassment.” Why would he want to kiss me when he can kiss Angelina instead?

“Well yes, that would have been pretty embarrassing. But you didn’t do it, so that’s one good thing to focus on.” Hermione pulls away from Y/N and heads towards the door. “Now hurry up and get ready, I’m starving.”

Watch as she stands with her holding your hand Put your arm 'round her shoulder,

All anyone had been talking about for weeks was the Yule Ball. Anywhere Y/N went she could hear people talking about it, whether it was a group of girls talking excitedly about their dresses, or people talking about who they hoped to go with, she couldn’t escape it.

She was probably the only person in the school not looking forward to it. Not after she had watched Fred ask Angelina to go with him in front of the whole common room. His smile had lit up the entire room when she said yes. Y/N had stalked off to bed afterwards, tears filling her eyes as she wished it had been her. It had only been two weeks since Fred broke her heart and no matter how hard she tried to forget him she found herself falling more in love with him.

Y/N didn’t even plan on going, not wanting to sit there alone while the boy she couldn’t help but love danced with someone else. But Harry was a Triwizard Champion and he was just as lousy with romantic endeavors as she was, so Y/N had agreed to be his date. At least if she was going to sit there doing nothing she’d have Harry to keep her company.

“Blimey, Y/N. You look fit,” Ron says in surprise as Y/N joins him and Harry in front of the Great Hall.

She punches him in the arm as a blush forms on her cheeks. Her dress is a soft purple color and hangs off her shoulders, exposing her delicate collarbones. The bodice hugs her torso and flares out into a flowing skirt. She tucks a piece of hair behind her ear as she waits for someone to say something to break the awkward tension.

“He’s right, Y/N. You look beautiful,” Harry adds a moment later.

Thankfully Professor McGonagall starts ushering students into the Great Hall so the Champions can enter and officially start the Ball. Ron has just left with Parvati Patel when Hermione comes down the stairs behind them, giving them a small wave before taking Viktor Krum’s arm.

“Guess we should join them,” Y/N mumbles, taking the arm that Harry offers her.

As they enter the Great Hall behind the rest of the champions Y/N can’t help but search the crowd, trying to find Fred. She finds him quite easily, thanks to his ginger hair and the fact that he and Angelina are standing quite close to the door. She only lets her eyes linger on them for a moment, but it’s long enough for her to notice that their hands are intertwined.

She bites her lip, willing the lump that has formed in her throat to go away. When they reach the dance floor and the music begins Y/N grasps Harry’s shoulders tightly as they start to dance, hoping that he twirls her hard enough to force the thoughts of Fred out of her head.

“So, you just dazzle the entire school with your wonderful dance moves and then hover by the refreshments for the rest of the night?” George asks Y/N with a grin.

After she and Harry had finished their uncoordinated dance they removed themselves from the dance floor. Y/N had sat at a table with Ron and Harry for a bit, but their miserable attitudes got to be too much for her, so she decided to grab a drink. Her sudden need for a refreshment had nothing to do with the fact that she had a perfect view of Fred and Angelina dancing.

“Dazzle? I don’t know if that’s the particular word to describe whatever Harry and I ended up doing on that dancefloor,” Y/N says with a laugh.

George shrugs his shoulders and grabs a drink as he comes to stand next to Y/N. “It’s more coordinated than whatever the hell is going on over there.” George gestures towards a group of Durmstrang boys, who are doing some combination of jumping and arm thrashing that looks more like someone drowning in a lake than dancing.

Y/N laughs again, shoving George’s shoulder lightly. “Potter may be a champion or whatever but he’s a lousy date. This is the most fun I’ve had all night.” She pauses, looking up at George. “What about you? Where’s your date?”

George shrugs nonchalantly, taking a long sip of his drink. “Decided to be bold, come by myself.” When Y/N gives him a questioning look he continues. “The girl I wanted to go with got asked by someone else and I really couldn’t be bothered to find another date.”

Y/N hums in understanding, giving George a nod. “Yeah, that’s how I ended up with my winner of a date.”

George says something else to her, but all her focus is on Fred and Angelina. They’ve finally stopped dancing and are heading right towards where Y/N and George are standing. The grip she has on her cup tightens as Fred puts his arm around Angelina’s shoulders, pulling her close to his side. I would give anything to be Angelina, Y/N thinks to herself as Angelina’s arms wind around Fred’s middle. They pass by George and Y/N without even sparing them a glance and leave the Great Hall.

She hears George mutter something about how they’re probably going to go make out somewhere, but the sound of her heart breaking even further is too loud in her ears for her to be sure. She hears herself bid goodnight to George before she’s turning on her heal and making a mad dash back to her dorm.

Y/N manages to keep her tears inside until she’s curled up in bed, her arms hugging Fred’s sweater tightly to her chest.

But how could I hate her? She's such an angel But then again, kinda wish she were dead

In the days following the Yule Ball Y/N does her best to keep to herself. She heads to meals early, so she’s already eaten by the time the rest of the school heads to the Great Hall. Since it’s still the Christmas holidays the Gryffindor common room is always packed full of students, so she spends most of her time in the library and doesn’t head back until late at night when most of her house is already asleep.

She knows her friends are worried about her and she misses spending time with them, but she can’t bring herself to. Wherever Ron, Harry and Hermione are it’s likely that Fred and George will be lurking around somewhere, and she’s not ready to face Fred yet. She feels like such an idiot, she had let her daydreams get the better of her. After that day in the common room she thought that something would happen between her and Fred, but as she falls asleep every night she can’t help but think that it was all in her head.

So, Y/N sits in the library everyday with only Madam Pince to keep her company, her schoolbooks spread out in front of her but not much work being done. She always means to get work done, but she can’t help but let her mind wander to Fred. As much as it hurts her to, she can’t stop thinking about him. It doesn’t help that she still has his sweater tucked under her pillow. It still smells like him, and as she drifts to sleep at night she likes to pretend he’s right there next to her.

“Hey, Y/N. How’s it going?”

Y/N can feel the blood run out of her face as she looks up at the person who pulled her from her thoughts of Fred and is met with Angelina Johnson. Her grip on her quill tightens as a blush spreads across her cheeks. Y/N smiles at Angelina, trying to seem normal.

“It’s going alright. Just working on a potions essay Snape set for the break,” she answers casually. She watches Angelina’s eyes flick towards the parchment in front of her, which is completely empty. “Or trying to at least,” Y/N adds quickly, trying to think of a reason as to why her sheet is blank. “Potions isn’t really my best class.”

While it’s not a lie, Y/N still feels bad. She had already planned out her entire essay, she was just too busy thinking about Fred and Angelina breaking up to actually write it all down. But what was she supposed to say? I was too busy thinking about you dying so I could have your boyfriend to do my homework.

“Snape is such a prick. He gave us an essay as well. I could help you, if you want. Potions isn’t my best class either, but I bet with both of our intelligence combined we could knock it out in no time,” she offers with a warm smile.

Y/N feels like she is going to throw up. Angelina is being so nice to her, and Y/N doesn’t deserve it. She’s spent the past few weeks hating Angelina’s guts, wishing that Fred would break her heart just as he had broken hers. But, it’s not Angelina’s fault that Fred had hurt her. It’s not like Angelina stole her boyfriend or something, she has no idea that Y/N likes Fred. Not even Fred knows.

Y/N nods, moving some of her stuff so Angelina can sit down. “That would be great, thanks.”

As they work together quietly, Y/N feels worse and worse about her thoughts over these past few weeks. Angelina isn’t the evil witch she’d made her out to be in her head. She’s actually an angel and she feels intense regret for kind of wishing she was dead. She’s in the middle of copying something down when Angelina nudges her.

“What did you think of the ball? It looked like you were having fun with George.” Angelina’s tone seems casual, but Y/N can tell she isn’t just asking her a random question.

Y/N shrugs her shoulders, deciding to play into whatever game Angelina was baiting her into. “It was alright. And yeah, I guess I had fun with George, we only talked for a few minutes before I decided to leave.”

Angelina doesn’t do a great job at hiding her surprise. “Oh, really? I heard from um, someone, that you guys spent most of the night together.”

Y/N gives Angelina a look. “Really? That’s odd. I danced with Harry once and then sat with him and Ron for a bit. I went and got a drink, talked to George for a bit and then went back up to my room.”

“Oh. So, you don’t like George? Like more than a friend?” Angelina asks, again, failing at sounding casual.

Y/N shakes her head. “God no. I mean he’s a great bloke but there’s someone else that I like. More than a friend.” Y/N mentally slaps herself, wondering why in the world she felt the need to tell Angelina that.

Luckily the older girl doesn’t question her further, she just murmurs out a quiet, “Interesting,” before she turns her attention back to Y/N’s potions essay.

You gave her your sweater It's just polyester But you like her better

After Angelina’s odd behavior in the library, Y/N had decided it was time to start hanging out with her friends again. Not only was she hoping to avoid another weird conversation, she truly had missed them. And her timing seemed perfect, as the second task was quickly approaching, and Harry needed all the help he could get.

Helping Harry is a nice distraction, but she can’t help but let her eyes wander in Fred’s direction every once in a while. She still feels so strongly for him, and Y/N doubts that is going to change anytime soon. Especially since it seems Fred and George are always hovering by them. As Y/N and the rest pour over books in the common room they’re always only a few seats away, and Y/N is sure she catches a glimpse of their red hair in the library a few times as her and Harry study the titles to find more books to bring to Ron and Hermione.

Y/N is so exhausted from helping Harry, that she doesn’t notice that neither Ron or Hermione are with them on the day of the second task until her and Harry are heading towards the black lake. Part of her is worried for her friends, the other is filled with panic. She had planned on sitting with Ron and Hermione as far away from Fred, George and Angelina as possible.

When they finally reach the platform in the middle of the lake, Y/N wishes Harry good luck and starts to search the crowd, hoping to find a group of familiar faces to join. Before she even has the chance to try and join Neville, Dean and Seamus she feels someone grab her arm.

“Come sit with us,” George says, already guiding her up the stairs. Y/N doesn’t need a crystal ball to know that the ‘us’ he is referring to is Fred, Lee and Angelina. She follows behind him all the way up to the top platform, trying to think of how to sneak away. But of course, Fred and George had managed to get the best spots on the platform, so there’s no hope that she’ll be able to shrink away, not with all the people around.

“Look who I found!” George shouts as they reach the others, everyone turning to look at them. Y/N blushes as Fred smiles at her, her eyes dropping to the ground. She can feel Lee pat her on the shoulder, and she decides to stand in between him and George. Except when she finally takes her eyes off the ground and looks up, George is nowhere to be found, instead Fred is looking down at her.

Her cheeks heat up and she immediately looks out at the lake so that she doesn’t get lost in his eyes. Y/N had been trying to get over Fred, the last thing she needs is to fall even more in love with him. At least you’ll have the task to focus on she thinks wistfully, letting herself glance at Fred, butterflies erupting in her stomach when she notices that he’s still looking at her.

“So, who do you think is gonna win? It’s gotta be Harry, right? I mean you’ve been spending so much time with him, he’s gotta be the best prepared,” Fred says with a grin. But as Y/N allows herself to look at him closely she can tell that he’s tense.

Before she can stutter out a reply Dumbledore is announcing the rules of the task and Filch is setting off the cannon, officially starting the task. Everyone starts to cheer as the champions dive into the water, but after they’ve all disappeared under the water they start to die down. The water is pitch black, and they all seem to disappear into the lake’s depths within a few seconds.

“I guess we’re just supposed to stand here and wait? I guess?” Angelina says from Fred’s other side. Y/N frowns at her proximity to Fred and focuses her attention back on the lake.

“You alright?” Fred asks, leaning down to whisper in Y/N’s ear.

Goosebumps pop up on her skin where his breath touches and her face turns crimson red. She just nods, not entirely trusting her voice. She can feel Fred’s eyes on her, and it takes everything in her power not to return his gaze. Y/N knows that if she were to look at him now she wouldn’t be able to stop herself from lunging forward and kissing him in front of the entire school, his girlfriend included.

Luckily Lee says something that grabs Fred’s attention and she can take a deep breath.

By the time Cedric reappears from the water with Cho Chang by his side, Y/N is absolutely freezing. They’re 45 minutes into the task, and so far only Fleur and Cedric have come back. While their spot has the best view, it’s so high in the air that the wind is bitter, and Y/N is shivering despite the fact that she’s wearing her heaviest jacket.

Luckily Krum reappears with Hermione next to him only a few minutes later, and the energy in the crowd ramps up. Everyone is cheering loudly again, and Y/N is too busy watching for Harry to notice how close Fred is to her.

Harry manages to appear from the water a few minutes after the time has run out, both Ron and a little blonde girl, who Y/N guesses is Fleur’s sister, by his side. The cheers only increase in volume as Dumbledore announces that Harry will get second place on account of his bravery.

Y/N feels as if she is on cloud nine. Not only had she just spent the last hour standing so close to Fred that their arms brushed against each other, but Harry had managed to do excellent in the task. Unfortunately, all that euphoria disappears as they start to head back down to the boats.

“Boy am I glad that’s over. It’s absolutely freezing out here. Good thing I had your sweater to keep me warm, Freddie,” Angelina says, her voice dripping with sweetness.

Y/N can feel her knees quiver as she glances at Angelina and the big fat letter F in the middle of the jumper she’s wearing. Tears start to form in the corners of her eyes, and she starts shoving through the crowd, trying to get as far away from Fred as possible.

The one thing she had held on to through all of this was Fred’s sweater. Y/N slept with it in her arms every night, it made her feel special. Fred may have chosen Angelina, but he had given her his sweater. It was her only glimmer of hope that someday something may happen between her and the boy who held her heart. But now, it meant nothing.

Y/N can hear Fred calling her name as she runs away, but she continues to push forward through the crowd. She’s making her way down the second set of stairs when she feels a hand wrap around her wrist.

“Y/N wait. Look at me,” Fred begs, tugging her close to him. Y/N turns around to look at Fred, who is standing on the stair above her, a desperate look on his face. Tears have started to stream down her face, and she bats away Fred’s hand when he tries to wipe them away. “What’s wrong? Talk to me, please.” His grip on her wrist tightens.

“You gave her your sweater,” she practically shouts at him, her voice full of misery. Y/N is sure that everyone around them is staring, but she can’t seem to care. She’s been in pain for weeks and it’s all coming out now.

Fred’s eyebrows knit together in confusion. “It’s just a sweater.”

Y/N sniffles, as more tears start to stream down her face. Just a sweater.

“So that’s all it was when you gave me your sweater? That day in the common room? Just a sweater,” she mocks. Fred opens his mouth to respond, but Y/N cuts him off. “You said it looked better on me. I thought you were flirting with me. I thought you liked me.”

Y/N feels like she’s going to pass out, Fred is standing there in front of her not saying anything. She starts to wipe the tears away as Angelina, George and Lee start to come down the stairs behind them.

“It clearly doesn’t matter what I think. Or what I want. You like her better,” she whimpers, gesturing towards Angelina. Before Fred even has a chance to react she’s running away again, down the stairs and back towards the boats. She takes a seat next to Neville in one of the boats and tucks her knees into her chest, trying to ignore everyone’s stares as Fred calls out her name.

Wish I were Heather

“I figured I would find you here,” Fred says softly from behind her.

Y/N bites her lip, quickly trying to wipe away her tears. After the absolute fiasco that had gone down between her and Fred all she wanted was to be alone. So instead of heading to the common room she wandered up to the astronomy tower. She’s not sure how long she’s been out here, but her hands are nearly numb from the cold and the sun has started to set.

When she doesn’t say anything, Fred comes up behind her and drapes a blanket over her shoulders before standing next to her. He leans his back up against the railing so he can look down at her face.

“Talk to me, please,” he begs.

His voice sends shivers down Y/N’s spine and it’s taking all of her willpower not to inch closer to him. She doesn’t say anything but allows herself to look up at him. Her cheeks heat up when she realizes that he’s already staring at her and she stops herself from looking away. He looks worried and hurt, and as much as Y/N thinks he deserves it for hurting her, she can’t help but feel guilty.

Fred reaches a hand up to cup her cheek and she melts into his touch. Her stomach is in knots and she feels lightheaded. As much as she hates to admit it, Fred Weasley still owns her whole heart. Even if his belongs to another girl.

When Y/N doesn’t pull away he starts to slowly stroke her cheek. “What are you thinking about?”

“Honestly?” she responds, wincing when her voice cracks. When Fred nods she continues. “I’m thinking about how much I wish I was Angelina.” When Fred doesn’t say anything, she continues. “I’m thinking about how much I wish you would look at me like you do her. I’m thinking about how much I wish you would have asked me to the Yule Ball. I’m thinking about how it would have felt as you twirled me in your arms. I’m thinking how it would have felt to kiss you. I’m thinking about how it would feel to be loved by you.”

Y/N hadn’t noticed that she was crying again until Fred’s thumb quickly wiped away her tears. She’s in disbelief that she just said all of those things to Fred. Her chest feels lighter now that she isn’t harboring such a huge secret, but a pit of despair has started to form in her stomach.

“Why are you thinking all of those things,” Fred asks, looking deep into Y/N’s eyes.

Y/N sighs in exasperation. She takes a deep breath, trying to find the courage to admit the things she’s felt for as long as she can remember. “I’m thinking all of those things because I’m in love with you, Fred Weasley. Even if you aren’t in love with me.”

Fred doesn’t respond. Instead he closes the gap between them and presses their lips together in a heated kiss. Y/N is frozen in place as her eyes flutter shut. Fred Weasley is kissing me. Oh my god Fred Weasley is kissing me, is the only thought running through her head. And as much as she wants to kiss him back, she can’t.

“We shouldn’t be doing this,” Y/N whispers, pulling away from Fred’s mouth, her eyes still shut. She desperately wants to look at him, but she can’t. “You have a girlfriend, Fred. And no matter what I feel for you, Angelina is a nice girl and I can’t do that to her. And you shouldn’t do that to her either.”

Fred chuckles as the hand he isn’t using to cup Y/N’s cheek comes up to grip her waist. She finally looks at him, confusion all over her face.

“Angelina Johnson isn’t my girlfriend,” he says casually, as if that is a sufficient enough explanation for everything that’s happened over the past few months. He leans forward to connect their lips again, but Y/N pushes his chest back slightly.

“I’m going to need more than that, Fred. Because I’ve spent the last three months dying inside as I watched you fall in love with her. So, you can’t just come up here and kiss me like none of that ever happened,” she explains, her words tinted with anger. Despite the anger that’s bubbling in her stomach, she can’t help but lean into his embrace.

“You looked so beautiful, that day in the common room,” he starts, a pink blush appearing on his cheeks. “You were sitting there, all alone wrapped up in your blanket. The fire was reflecting off of your face, it looked like you were glowing.” Fred pauses so he can tuck a piece of hair behind Y/N’s ear.

“I was only supposed to run up to our dorm to grab something George and I needed for our prank on Filch,” he continues a moment later, his eyes staring deeply into Y/N’s. “But I couldn’t help myself. That was the first time you had been alone all school year and I needed to be close to you. It was so hard not to pull you into my chest and comfort you when you said you were sick. That’s why I gave you my sweater. So, I could be close to you without being close to you. If that makes sense.”

Y/N chuckles and she can feel how red her cheeks are from Fred’s words alone. She’s sure that if she opens her mouth to speak the swarm of butterflies in her stomach will fly out, so she places the hand that had been on Fred’s chest on his neck, letting her fingers tangle in his long hair. She tugs the strands lightly encouraging him to continue with his story.

“And I noticed, how you stared at me when I took it off. I honestly thought you were going to start drooling,” Fred teases with a chuckle as Y/N’s blush deepens even further. “And then when I got closer to you to put the sweater on for you I thought that you were going to kiss me and so when you looked away I thought it was all just in my head.”

Y/N frowns as she mentally curses herself out. I should have just kissed him. Would have saved so much god damn time.

Fred leans forward and presses a kiss to her forehead before he continues. “But the way you looked at me, when I was talking about the stink bomb I knew you felt something for me. I just needed to figure out a way to get you to admit it. That’s why I let you keep the sweater too. I was hoping I could catch you wearing it again. Partially because it would have been helpful in getting you to admit you liked me, but mostly because it doeslook better on you. You look beautiful in everything you wear but seeing you in my sweater,” Fred pauses as he lets out a groan, his grip on Y/N’s waist tightening.

“How does Angelina fit into all of this, then? Because when I saw you look at her a few hours later, I could have sworn that you were in love with her,” Y/N says, her voice shaking. She’s still confused, and doesn’t want to get her hopes up, but everything that Fred is saying is making her heart swoon.

“Well after George and I set off a firework show in Filch’s office we were running away and quite literally ran into Angelina and Alicia who were coming back from Hogsmeade. I know Angelina has had a crush on George since like, first year, so we devised a plan that was beneficial to the both of us. George would finally stop being thick and notice Angelina and you would admit your feelings for me.”

Y/N’s eyes widen, and she raises her hand to smack him in the chest, but he manages to grab it in time. Fred interlaces their fingers and brings her hand up to his mouth, peppering it with soft kisses. “Let me finish explaining, please. You can be mad at me all you want after but just let me get it all out.” He continues to pepper her hand with soft kisses until he can feel Y/N relax in his embrace. He brings their hands down to their sides but keeps them interlaced.

“In the Great Hall that night Angelina and Alicia waited in the corridor until they saw you come in and sit down. I kept making George and Lee laugh, I knew that would get you to look over at us, I’d seen you do it before.” Fred rubs her cheek with his thumb as her blush comes back, Y/N often looked over at Fred during meals but had thought she was sneaky enough to get away with it.

“When she walked by I was staring at her but I was thinking about you. I was thinking about your laugh, and the way you scrunch your nose when you’re annoyed. I was thinking about the little wrinkle you get in between your eyebrows when you get frustrated at your coursework. I was thinking about your smile and how beautiful you looked when I caught you dancing with Ginny and Hermione in your pajamas last summer.”

Y/N groans at the memory, causing Fred to laugh. Hermione had brought a muggle radio with her to the burrow, and they were up late one night, just goofing off and dancing around Ginny’s room together. They had accidentally left the door cracked, and Fred and George had burst into Ginny’s room to see what all the noise was. Y/N had been wearing nothing but a t-shirt and a pair of shorts that were two sizes too small and her cheeks had burned bright red as Fred had looked her up and down.

“I can’t believe you remember that. I was so embarrassed. I wanted the floor to open up and swallow me whole,” she grumbles, the anger she had just felt completely washing away. Y/N lets herself fall into Fred’s chest, her arms wrapping around his middle and her face pressing into his neck. Fred laughs and finally let’s go of her hand so he can wrap one arm around her waist fully, his other reaching up to stroke her hair.

“Of course, I remember that. That’s the moment I fell in love with you. You looked so carefree, dancing around with your friends, with my little sister. It was like you belonged there,” Fred whispers the last part, pressing a kiss to the top of Y/N’s head. It was no secret that the Weasley boys all had soft spots for their younger sister and seeing Y/N get along so well with Ginny made Fred fall even harder for her.

“You are such a sap Fred Weasley,” Y/N teases lightly. Her heart feels like it might beat out of her chest. “Go on then, continue telling me about your master grand plan or whatever.”

Fred chuckles. “When George, Lee and I got back to the common room that night I figured you’d be there waiting to talk to me or something. But you weren’t. And when I saw you at Breakfast the next day you didn’t even look at me. I could tell George was falling into our trap, but you had gotten so distant I wasn’t sure what was going on in your head.”

Y/N can feel herself getting angry again, but she takes a deep breath, letting Fred’s scent calm her down. She had promised to hear Fred out before she got angry at him and she plans to keep that promise.

“I hadn’t planned on asking Angelina to the Yule Ball, but when George didn’t ask her she told me to. She said it was a surefire way for us to get what we both wanted. And so, I did. I did it while you were there, thinking that maybe you’d stand up and tell Angelina to fuck off or something. But you got all quiet and stormed off instead.” Fred pauses, squeezing Y/N tighter against his chest.

“I wanted to follow you so badly,” he continues a moment later, and Y/N can hear the regret in his voice. “But I had made a promise to Angelina. I figured you would go alone, and that the mess I had gotten in would fix itself at the dance. And then Ron told us that you were going with Harry. You looked so beautiful, Y/N. I was so jealous of Harry, that he got to touch you,” Fred stops himself, jealousy building up in his throat just from the thought of Y/N being with someone else.

He presses his face to the top of her head, taking a deep breath. Sensing his tension, Y/N presses a kiss to his neck. “And then I saw you standing with George and I nearly lost my mind, that’s why Angelina and I left. You were being so, playful with him like you usually were with me. I thought maybe instead of pushing you to admit how you feel for me I had pushed you into the arms of someone else.”

“is that why Angelina came up to me in the library? She was trying to sus out what I was feeling?” She asks, so many things finally making sense.

Fred hums, and Y/N shivers as the rumble vibrates through her whole body. Fred squeezes her tighter. “George had somehow figured out what we were up to and decided to turn the table. The next day at breakfast all he could talk about was you, and how much fun he had with you after we left. I figured he was just trying to get a reaction out of me, but the thought of you wanting someone else hurt so much. So, I sent Angelina off to do some recon.”

“Then why continue playing your stupid little game? I told Angelina that I wasn’t into George,” Y/N questions, pulling her head away from Fred’s warmth so she can look him in the eyes. He returns her gaze, and it still causes her to blush, despite the fact that she’s been cuddled into him for at least 20 minutes. The sun has nearly set, and the golden rays reflecting off of Fred’s hair make him look like an Angel. She allows her gaze to drop to his lips for a moment, wishing that they were on hers once again.

“Yes, but you told her that you liked someone else, more than a friend,” Fred reminds her, a smirk forming on his lips. “And then you started hanging out with your friends again and you were spending so much time with Harry.”

“You thought I liked Harry?” Y/N asks in surprise, cutting Fred off. When he nods she laughs, unable to stop herself. “I don’t mean to laugh at you love. Well actually I do but, I can’t believe that you thought I was into Harry.”

Fred frowns at her, the hand that had been stroking her hair coming to cup her cheek once again. “And why wouldn’t you fancy Harry? He’s a top-class bloke I’ll have you know,” Fred teases with a chuckle. “And I was feeling insecure,” he admits sheepishly.

Y/N instantly feels bad for laughing and presses a kiss to Fred’s cheek as a way of apologizing. Fred and the word insecure have never once crossed her mind at the same time. Fred was always the life of the party, confident in himself and his actions. He liked being the center of attention and was always trying to get more eyes on him.

Knowing that he’s standing here with her barring his soul to her fills Y/N with warmth. Fred Weasley never let anyone see this side of him and yet here he is, laying it all out for her. While Fred’s actions may have been questionable to her, they came from such a place of pure sincerity that she can’t be mad at him. If anything, it makes her love him more, if that’s even possible.

“So, what was your plan today, hm? How was Angelina wearing your sweater going to push us together?”

“I’m getting there, don’t you worry,” Fred teases. “Actually, I’ll have you know that today’s plan was all George’s idea, so if my actions today lead you to never want to talk to me again just know that it’s George you should be mad at, not me.”

Y/N rolls her eyes but doesn’t say anything. She presses her face back into Fred’s neck, encouraging him to continue.

“By this point George had been fully briefed on the situation, since he finally got the nerve to just ask Angelina out. Took him long enough if you ask me.” Fred pauses when Y/N laughs into his neck. “Hey, I don’t want to hear it from you. I was in far too deep to just ask you out, alright?” Y/N squeezes Fred’s middle, causing him to smile. “Anyway, he knew about the whole sweater thing. So, he suggested that Angelina wear the sweater mum sent for me this Christmas. Thinking it would send you into a jealous rage.”

“That was obviously a mistake,” Fred admits sheepishly. “But anyway. George waited by the boats for you to arrive with Harry, so he could make sure that you came and stood with us. When you didn’t notice the sweater right away I figured the plan was over. But then Angelina managed to sneak in a mention and well this is where I definitely need to apologize to you.”

“I thought I was special,” Y/N murmurs into Fred’s neck. “I knew, or at least thought I knew, that you were in love with Angelina. But I was the one you gave your sweater too. I was the one that got to cuddle it close every night. It gave me one sliver of hope that maybe, just maybe someday you’d be laying in bed cuddling me instead.”

When Fred doesn’t say anything, Y/N continues. “But then she was wearing your sweater and I wanted to throw up. My last shred of hope that you would ever love me was destroyed, and I just needed to get away from you.” Her voice cracks as a fresh set of tears flow down her face. Y/N pulls away from Fred so she can look him in the eyes and more tears cascade down her face when she sees the pain in his.

“I am so sorry, Y/N.” Fred lets go of her so his hands can come up and brush away her tears. “When you were standing there on the stairs you looked so broken and knowing I made you feel like that. I couldn’t say anything, I couldn’t find the right words. And then you were gone, and I wanted to fling myself into the lake.”

Fred’s arms wrap around her waist again and Y/N lets herself cuddle close to him. Her own arms wrap around his neck and she starts to play with his hair. They just stand there, looking at each other for a few moments, both of them unsure what to say next.

“Say something, please,” Fred begs when the silence gets to be too much. “Anything. Even if you tell me to fuck off and never talk to you again. Just, say something.”

Y/N smiles up at him. “Kiss me.”

“Come again?” Fred asks, afraid that his ears are playing tricks on him.

“Kiss me,” Y/N breathes, her face slowly inching closer to Fred’s.

Fred doesn’t need to hear it again. The second the words have left Y/N’s mouth he’s closing the gap between them and their lips meet in a heated kiss. Except this time Y/N isn’t frozen in place. She moves her mouth in time with his and presses herself closer to Fred, needing to feel his body against hers.

Y/N’s knees quiver as he deepens their kiss and her whole body feels like it’s on fire. This is everything she has ever wanted, and she almost can’t believe it’s actually happening.

“I love you,” Fred says softly when their kiss breaks, both of them needing to catch their breath. “I love you so much and I am such an idiot and I am so sorry for hurting you.” Fred cups her cheeks so that he can gaze into Y/N’s eyes. Both of their cheeks are flushed, and Y/N doesn’t think she could look away from the loving look Fred is giving her even if she wanted to. “I don’t deserve your love and I’ll do anything it takes for you to be mine. I’ll apologize to you every day for the rest of forever if I have to.”

Y/N presses their foreheads together as she kisses Fred briefly. “Every day? For the rest of forever? That’s a pretty long time,” she teases with a laugh.

Fred chuckles, kissing her softly. “Now that I’ve got you I’m never letting you go.”

They stand there together in silence for a few moments, basking in the warmth their love has created around them. They’re both smiling at each other, and Y/N is sure that she’d float away if Fred wasn’t holding her so tightly.

“Can you just promise me one thing?” Y/N asks quietly, twirling a piece of Fred’s hair around her finger.

“Anything, my love.” Fred squeezes her even tighter, his lips brushing against hers.

“Promise me that I’ll be the only girl you ever give another one of your sweaters too,” Y/N says quietly, trying to seem playful. But Fred can sense the hint of seriousness behind her words.

“I promise, every day for the rest of forever,” he chuckles.

Y/N kisses him hard, trying to convey every ounce of love she has for Fred through this one kiss. Every day for the rest of forever may seem like a long time, but after spending so long without Fred, it doesn’t seem like enough.

#fred weasley #Fred Weasley imagine #Fred Weasley fic #Fred Weasley x reader #harry potter #Harry Potter imagine #fw #golden

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