#when i genuinely thought that if we go to the circle everyone in the castle will fucking die

[mourn-and-watch]

dragon age choices are so silly sometimes. you can travel to the circle from redcliffe then solve its whole mess and return with mages which would take a couple of days for sure but you suffer no consequences for it. no harm done. that's the best outcome. meanwhile you can't leave the fade without senseless sacrifice which could have been easily avoided if hawke warden and inquisitor had fucking run instead of arguing about who's gonna be left for good for half an hour

[oralmisery]

Dear the King of Hawkins

The Love Letters were a means of catharsis, a way for Eddie to bare his soul. In private. They were never supposed to be sent.

Especially the one to Steve Harrington.

Basically a To All the Boys I've Loved Before au💌

[ complete fic on ao3 ]

Rating: E | WC: 12,293 | tags: Fluff and Smut, Light Angst, Happy Ending, Light Dom/sub, Dom Eddie, Sub Steve, One Shot, Porn with Feelings

When Steve sees the envelope he isn't sure what to think. It takes him a moment to even register who Eddie Munson is. In Steve’s circles, he’s usually referred to as “The Freak”. 

Munson is practically a permanent fixture of Hawkins high. A smear in the background, here to blemish Steve’s senior year since he flunked his own. If it's not Munson then it's some other oddly dressed weirdo. There's always people like that. The outcasts, the dregs, the ones you ignore. Except Munson. He’s pretty hard to ignore when he’s standing on lunch tables and being generally obnoxious. It's probably why there's so many rumors about him. Well that and being one of the only sources for drugs in town, Munson squeaks out of most beatdowns; what people can't punch they talk shit about.

People say all sorts of things. Satan worshiper. Nerd. Loser. Trash. Creep. Dangerous. Freak. Steve’s not sure how he can be a nerd and dangerous at the same time but he doesn't give it much thought. He's never even spoken to the guy. Tommy always got the weed on the rare occasion they wanted to smoke. 

That's why getting a letter from him was weird. It came in the mail. The mail. Mixed in with bills and coupons. It has a stamp, a little American flag. There is no reason for the guy to reach out to Steve, especially through the postal service.

Dear the King of Hawkins,

I'm sure every day is a sunny one when it's spent on a throne and under a crown. The way you walk these halls no one would believe otherwise. Everyone around you–drawn to your wealth, your looks and confidence–are just subjects turned fools. Led equally by charm and wrath. I wonder what it would be like to be favored in your court? To sit at your side, shoulder to shoulder, instead of distanced by so much more than just space? I can only piece together a flawed fantasy. A distorted image made from the glimpses I get from outside the castle gates. Assuming I’m even considered part of the kingdom, that is.

What the fuck is this. Steve snickers, did the freak send him a sad hate letter? Maybe to everyone in school? Tommy was going to have an absolute riot when he showed him, maybe they can compare letters.

I hope you at least know my name, Hawkins being as small as it is. You've never once looked at me like you actually see me. I know because I can't stop looking at you. Even though you're an entitled asshole, I happen to agree with what anyone with eyes can see. You are so beautiful I think they need to make a new word for it.

Alarms start ringing in his ears. He scans that last line over and over. No matter how many times he reads it, it doesn't change. He checks the front of the envelope to make sure it's really from Munson.

I wasn't surprised when you received your royal title. You’ve always had a way of commanding attention. Inspiring people to follow you blindly with enduring loyalty. I noticed it when I first moved here. I joined the 5th grade class halfway through the school year and everyone already knew each other. I was alone and scared shitless. I know you don't remember but that first week you invited me to a game of tag on the playground. You were genuinely nice, funny even. You made me feel like I could actually have friends here. Then Tommy returned to school after having the flu and we never talked again. I still remember your grin though, you had a tooth missing on the bottom row. Sometimes I see hints of that kid now, usually when you're talking up girls. I've got this sadistic urge to see your smile with a few teeth missing, just to compare you with your younger self. Which is entirely plausible with the fights you get into, but I fear the temptation to kiss you better will be too much.

He's right, Steve doesn't recall that at all. He's trying in vain to remember, but his memory has never been great and he's coming up blank. Can't even imagine Munson as a little kid, probably without his signature long hair. Nobody describes Steve as nice and actually means it. He skips over the word kiss because it’s giving him a terrible stomach ache. He drops into a chair and sets the letter on the kitchen table so the sweat on his palms doesn't smudge the paper.

Ya know, while I agree with the king stuff, I much prefer “The Hair”. Talk about temptation. Your hair haunts me. It makes my brain stutter, I want to simultaneously pet it softly and pull it out of your skull. I get why people used to give locks of hair as mementos. If I had a piece of yours, I'd twirl it around my fingers, imagining what I could do to the source. I want to see those brown waves messy, tug on them until your head looks like a bird nest. I want to see your hair spread out on my sheets. I want to find strands of it on my jacket, in my van, and clogging my shower drain.

It's hopeless, this infatuation. Fucking terrible in all honesty. You're a distraction I can't afford. I'm pretty sure I failed history last semester solely on the fact that you chew pens. It's a cruel combination; wandering attention and a vivid imagination. With the amount of times I've pictured you stretched around my cock, fingers, and tongue I can almost recall you clenching down on me like a real memory. I imagine opening you up real slow until you're begging for it with tears dripping down your face. The background changes like flipping through channels on a TV. Over the hood of your stupid car, Mrs. O'Donnell desk, the picnic table behind the school, anywhere that has a surface really. I probably imagine us most in my bed though. 

Steve’s stomach twists and revulsion burns his throat. It's fucking gross, Munson is a guy . And why the hell would Steve be the receiver in all this? Unwanted, graphic images play behind his eyes. He can't help it, the letter is descriptive. He can feel cold metal on his stomach and wood chafing along his back. Taste phantom salt from tears. He reaches up to run a jittery hand through his hair but aborts the gesture midway when he thinks about Munson wanting to do the same exact thing.

He considers just ripping up the letter without reading the rest but sick curiosity stops him. Like peeking out between fingers to watch a scary movie.

If it was just lust I could handle it. Teenage hormones and all that. But it's deeper than that, more than sex, I want you to look at me like everyone looks at you, like a king. It's horribly cliché but I want you to call me baby and hold my hand. Most of all I want to show you that someone cares about you because I'm worried you don't know that. There's this look on your face when no one else is watching, like you're not here but you want to be. Like you're waiting for something that's not coming. I think it's loneliness. Heaven knows I've felt it enough to recognize it. Maybe that's why I'm still harboring this torch for you even though it’s pointless. I wish I had the chance to make you happy, to take care of you and erase the word abandonment from your vocabulary. Even now, through the crowd, in the bleachers, the other side of the cafeteria, across the entirety of this shitty town, you're not alone because I'm there loving you every second of the day.

Yours,

Eddie Munson

A drop of liquid falls onto the paper, right next to Eddie’s signature. It knocks Steve out of his mental spiral and he reaches up to wipe at his eyes. He didn't even realize they were leaking tracks down his face. 

you're not alone because I'm there loving you every second of the day.

What the fuck is this. Eddie “the freak” Munson is in love with him? What's more upsetting is Steve’s gut reaction; he doesn't deserve it. This level of devotion. He suddenly sees himself from an outside perspective. He's not a good person. There's an inherent reason why his parents are gone most of the time, his friends are mean and shallow, and he jumps from girl to girl. There’s something lacking in him that drives people away, unless he–what were Munson's words?– leads with charm and wrath .

How does Munson know he's lonely when Steve didn't even know? It's mortifying to put an actual word to the feeling. That his efforts to surround himself with people, the “right” people, have apparently meant fuck all. He must look so pathetic to Munson, a deadbeat loser, who sees through him like glass.

What’s the guy’s deal? Why did Munson even send this? What does he expect from Steve? He wrote the words himself. Hopeless. Pointless . There's no ask to meet up, not even a request for an answer. He just drops this bomb into Steve’s life and expects to make a quiet exit? Just wants Steve to know he's loved for the sake of it? That’s dramatic even for the freak. The guy spends too much time doped up if he thinks he's going to flay Steve open and get away with it.

Yours,

Eddie Munson

Steve traces over the word Yours, with a finger. He’s going to get answers. 

[ continue reading ]

[darlinggeorgiedear]

George was an empathic King, while in his private life, had a personality that could be compared to a bull in a china shop

as someone whose first language isn't english, reading that idiom makes me laugh especially when it used to describe george lol any story about his chaotic private life?

Hi! George was rumored to be a drunk for a period. Many assume the rumor began in result of his indigestion that caused his skin to be blotchy and his general noisy manner. I always thought the drunk rumor perfectly illustrates how he acted sometimes, because he 100% didn't have a drinking problem, he acted the way he did, sober.

His normal speaking voice was comparable to the average person's screaming voice, and his laugh carried through rooms. He also never hid his moods. He was definitely the type where if he was in a bad mood, everyone was going to be in a bad mood. In contrast, his good moods were just as contagious, and he could be extremely jolly and talkative. Mary referred to his two moods as "Devil Georgie" and "Angel Georgie."

He definitely was "chaotic" and brought a lot of drama into his otherwise peaceful life. I was trying to compare Nicholas and George, and it has always stood out to me that Nicholas, seemingly feeling the fragility of his private life (severely sick son and unbalanced wife), was incredibly passive and never wanted to rock the boat. George definitely felt secure in his family situation (maybe a little secure at times).

Also, many in his circle thought his antics were funny. His maid would later laugh with him about how he yelled at her for not arranging his things right. His son, George, also enjoyed poking fun at his dad and telling him things to specifically get him into a rage. One of my favorite "chaotic" George stories is when he caught Mary reading "Lady Chatterley's Lover," and went into a rage (saying it was immoral and disgusting), snatching the book and storming out of the room. Later, his son, George, walked into his dad's study, and to his utter shock and amusement, found his dad reading the infamous book. George, being George, went into a rage about the book again, and dramatically threw it in the fire in front of his son. Knowing what I do about George, he was genuinely disgusted by "Lady Chatterley's Lover" (adultery, description of women's sexuality, etc), which makes the whole situation even funnier since I can just imagine the flustered state he was in trying to explain himself when his son caught him reading it.

George, according to the Queen Mother, also had the habit of pinching your arm at the peak of his jokes. She said once, when you left him, your arm was purple and blue.

The ultimate "chaotic" George story (or stories, because this happened a lot) was him chastising women who dressed in the 1920s fashion. On one occasion, he was caught by Mary shouting down from Windsor Castle at a woman. Mary told him to stop at once, he obeyed, with a guilty smile. He also would speak about a woman's bobbed hair or short skirt, when the woman in question was around 5 feet away, yet would speak like she couldn't hear him.

His behavior was very uncommon for upper class British men. I think his naval training was probably the source of his slightly unrefined personality. He reminds me of Prince Philip, who was also in the Navy, and was simiarly unpredictable, blunt, and at times rude. George also, like Philip, had a very aggressive style of banter, but we love both of them anyway💛.

[icgaminglogs]

Warden Cousland's War Journal

Chapter 6: Redcliffe

Maker or no, someone seems to be guiding our path. Perhaps we shouldn’t have detoured on our way to Redcliffe, but stopping to deal with the Circle meant we arrived perhaps at the exact right time to truly help. Though I can’t help but wonder if the villagers would see it that way.

When we reached the village we found it under seige. Not only is the arl on his deathbed, but there’s some sort of evil presence in the castle that comes out at night to prey on the village. Bann Teagan, the arl’s brother, has been leading the defenses as best he can, but he’s not had an easy time of it. My companions and I stood with them in the most recent battle and saw what they’re up against. Darkspawn I can deal with – I’m actually getting used to them, which is a frightening thought – but undead? No thank you. And the people of Redcliffe have faced these things for some time.

From what Teagan told us afterward, that night’s attack was the worst yet. It might well have razed the village entirely had we not been there to help with preparations and defense. He was going to lead us into the castle himself, through a secret path, when the arlessa turned up and insisted he go with her. The woman seemed beside herself, but there was still something she was holding back. Trying to press her on it was an exercise in futility, though; the bann went with her, the rest of us snuck in through the secret entrance.

The castle itself was actually less full of the undead than we thought, fortunately. There was a mage in the dungeon, Jowan, who’d been left there by the arlessa and blamed for what had happened. He swore up and down he had nothing to do with it, but he also confessed to being the one who’d poisoned the arl. That didn’t exactly go over well with Alistair. Neither did the fact that he was a blood mage, but...he seemed genuine enough. And he was willing to do what he could to put things right; he was as unnerved by what was going on as we were, but he could at least give us more insight and a better understanding of what had happened.

It had all started when the arlessa hired Jowan as a tutor for her son Connor, who’d started showing signs of magic. She hated the thought of sending him to the Circle and wanted him to learn just enough magic to hide his abilities. Jowan was hired but had also been sent on Loghain’s orders to poison the arl. Not enough to kill him, it seems, but enough to keep him deathly ill and out of the way. Connor...I don’t think anyone’s really clear on how it happened, but he somehow tore a hole in the Veil or something, reaching for power to try and heal his father, and wound up possessed by a demon. Jowan, Maker bless the man, knew a ritual we could use to send someone physically into the Fade to destroy the demon without killing the boy. The only trick was that it was a blood magic ritual, which required so much power that it would kill whoever Jowan used as a focus.

None of us except Arlessa Isolde wanted any part of that. The Arlessa put herself forward as the sacrifice – fitting, given it had been her deeds that had caused all this to begin with, but even so. With the Circle freed of Uldred, though, there was the chance we could call on their help for the ritual, so we sent word by the swiftest means possible. First Enchanter Irving came himself to oversee things, and Morrigan agreed to venture in. She’s hardly the most comforting sort to send to rescue a child, but she has almost as much disdain for demons as she does everyone else, and she’s a master of combat spells.

It worked, too. Connor’s free, if a little hazy on what happened. For the best, I think. The Circle is the best place for a child to learn magic; there are safeguards there, and more instruction than one apostate mage can give on his own. And maybe an arl’s son will have a better life than others there, but...well, given what I’ve heard of Circle life, I can’t quite blame Isolde for not liking the idea.

Unfortunately, not even Irving could do anything about Arl Eamon’s illness. Maybe the Urn really is his only hope, if it even exists. None of the men the arlessa’s sent have returned with any word on it, though; the only lead anyone has is about a Brother Genitivi in Denerim. We need Eamon if we’re going to go against Loghain. Looks like we’re headed into the lion’s den to follow this lead. So long as we keep our heads down, Loghain need never even know we were in the city.

[halcyon-digest]

2011

Art Klaudt: Enrolling at high school

Anonymous 1: closeted surveillance mind reading delusions

ava: going to the pool in the summer with my mom and sister. the kids yelling in the castle park next door, the smell of hot dogs from the snack shack, the black trash bags we put on the car seats to keep them from getting wet. the shiny silver seatbelt you had to be careful not to burn yourself with. blasting selena gomez & the scene’s album “when the sun goes down” front to back and singing along with my sister in the back seat.

kate: I graduated from high school. I also made my tumblr account. A few of my friends had them, but I think the deciding factor was my friend Chris. I don't even remember how we started being friends or why he shared his tumblr with me but we're still bros to this day. It was full of personal writing, and he was (and still is) very depressed and thoughtful. I would tease him about his sad posts about his crush, who I had deduced was the first chair violinist in our high school orchestra (and valedictorian). This is jumping ahead a bit but I feel like I can't talk about her without mentioning that she was brilliant, incredibly kind, and died suddenly and somewhat mysteriously in 2017, and it shocked everyone but I think hit him particularly hard. Anyways. That's how it all started. 13 years of a website becoming an indelible part of my brain.

Anonymous 2: my first guitar lessons with my middle school science teacher. i can still play a little song he taught me that was meant to help me memorize the pentatonic scale

Lucas: Can't think of any

Anonymous 3: A sort of synthesis of lots of memories that can't be separated out and feel like one memory, of being a student, getting severely drunk with a specific group of people, several specific pubs and bars, several streets in the city at night, the university campus at dawn, the university campus with its lake frozen and a shopping trolley pushed out into the middle, being in the tiny single bed in my girlfriend's room under her super cheap super light synthetic duvet and green bobbly sheets, the smell of the perfume Blue and head and shoulders apple 2-1 shampoo, listening to the clash, watching the twilight zone, the corridor and the shower room and how it all smelt, the willow tree outside my window.

Lucas: Getting a word wrong on a spelling test because I misheard it

Anonymous 5: Being humiliated by my homeroom teacher

superswag: I was 2

v0w0v: Biking to a local coffee shop in the summer to meet my friend and go on the computers there. He would pretend to be "Ben Drowned" on cleverbot and I would go on the creepypasta website. I was very attached to this friend and thought what I felt was a crush. He was kind of mean to me and a very stock-standard nerdlet in every way including academic prestige and a circle of friends just like him; in retrospect I understand the reason for my intense attachment is because I wanted his life, a kind of gender envy compounded on top of other sorts of envy.

Anonymous 6: Moving to a new school where I had to wear a uniform. The school was for poor kids and it was the first time I felt like I was different somehow from my peers, because other people around me had richer families and went to private schools and not the one I went to.

Anonymous 7: actually genuinely laughing at annoying orange.

binnie: The website Funnyjunk... I have a friend that is very dear to me who I still talk to that I met around these years.

Anonymous 8: Meeting a toxic friend that I was friends with for years, having a friendship on and off over the years.

April M. Mildew: I think I got a Playstation 3 for Christmas. It came with LittleBigPlanet 2. My life is boring. Why am I thinking about worms. What does this memory have to do with worms. There is some connection here with worms.

[thelegacyofgreyleaf]

Stories from Kyoguild #3

The Owl That Flew In

Eveline Brooks

***

Fire… burning everything that surrounds the senses of a young elven girl. She feels the cold breath of fear on the back of her neck. Picking herself up off the ground, she begins to sprint through the crumbling spires that currently are being engulfed by the raging inferno. Not to lose her path, but to avoid running in circles in the maze of fire; she keeps making random turns and keeping track of it in her head.

Left.

Right.

Right.

Left.

Left.

Right.

Now, ahead of her in a clearing. An orcish figure kneels on the ground, his heavy mace at his side and what’s left of his robes, drenched in blood and covered in ash. A cloaked figure approaches the fallen half-orc, plunging a dagger into his back. On the cloak, the girl notices her own family crest and can’t help but shout, confused and terrified:

“FATHER??!!!!”

***

“Wake up, your highness! It’s okay. It’s just a bad dream.” A motherly voice says as the young elven girl wakes up. The room is warm and comfortable from the heAs she sits up, she brushes her ivory bangs out of her face. Her hair is short and messy from the night of sleep prior, She is panicked, but slowly realizing it was just a nightmare. The girl’s feet fall to the floor and she looks up at the woman who stands before her.

She is a shorter fox-kin woman wearing a red dress, covered by a white apron that is belted to the dress. In her hand, a broom that she has resting on the floor with her holding the handle gently. Her hair wavy and red like a violent ocean of fire, yet her demeanor reflects the opposite of violence. Her scarlet eyes say she has been through a lot, yet full of love and care nonetheless.

“Miss Fuchs..?” Nalaea questions softly, still waking up.

“Yes, Heiress. I heard screaming while I was sweeping the corridor, so I used my skeleton key to check in on you. I was told it was for emergencies only, and I definitely qualify the King’s daughter screaming as such. Are you okay?” Roter asks concerningly.

“Do you know if my father had anything to do with the burning of a village?” Nalaea asks.

“I… uh… um.” Roter sputters, shocked by the question.

“Never mind. It’s probably just a bad dream, like you said.” Nalaea responds with a yawn close behind.

“Anyways, now that you’re up. Would you like to come with me? I was just about to go and check on the rest of the maidstaff in the kitchen. It’s almost breakfast after all?” Roter asks confidently, with a smile.

“I’d love to see everyone! It’s been too long. I remember when you all taught me how to fry eggs.” Nalaea says with excitement.

“You know we got punished for teaching you a “servant’s job,” right?” Roter winces, rubbing the back of her neck.

“What do you mean? Cooking isn’t a servant’s job, it’s a genuine life skill that I might need to use someday. Which guard did it? I’ll have them fi~.”

“I can’t risk losing my job. I can’t say. I’m sorry Nalaea.” The fox interrupts.

“Roter, why do you want me in the kitchen?” Nalaea says firmly.

Miss Fuchs looks around, “I need to tell you something regarding your nightmare.” She says. “And I don’t feel safe doing it here.”

As Roter finishes her thought; a barn owl, brown and white in color, flies into the room through an open window. Upon landing softly on a rafter, it grips its talons and stares down at Nalaea. Roter swings her broom up at it.

“Get out! I said, Get! You nosy owl!” Roter shouts as the owl flees the mighty broom. Roter then mutters to herself. “There’s been a lot more birds flying into the castle than usual lately.”

While she is occupied with the owl, Nalaea walks out of the room. Entering the long corridor which seems to stretch forever, the cool air of the hall nips Nalaea’s senses. Just outside of the room, there sits a cart of cleaning supplies. As she steps down the calm and empty passage of Castle Greyleaf, she begins to hear a voice from within her head. The voice is unfamiliar to Nalaea which she finds as strange, having that she’s lived here and been around everyone who works or lives in this castle her whole life.

“Great work, Yavari! Your training is coming along well.” A deep orcish voice echoes in her head.Nalaea winces, the words sting her brain like a sharp migraine but is gone as fast as it came.

Continuing down the corridor, Nalaea passes doors that line the corridor evenly after every third pillar on her right side. On her left, tall stained glass windows that line the hallway.

Red.

Blue.

Red.

Blue.

A soldier of the castle, in full armor, walks past Nalaea.

“Good morning, your highness.” The soldier says with a chipper attitude, as he continues down the hall.

Red.

Blue.

Red.

Blue.

The next opening past the blue stained glass window, is a door. She grabs the handle, pushing it open.

“Hit the road, boy. You’ve done enough damage to not only my students, but to this monastery.” The orcish voice echoes more, and again; Nalaea winces. She walks out of the door and onto a balcony, the sky is a faded blue. The clouds softly release their rain to the ground below. Nalaea leans over the stone railing at the edge of the balcony, her hair slowly fading warmer as the rain covers each part of her short hair. Nalaea’s head is getting louder and sharper. While she is surrounded by a cold rain, she can only feel the blazing inferno from her dream.

“Raeburn, over here!” The orcish voice exclaims.

“The children. The fire. It was too much. It was too far late by the time we arrived.” A young woman says.

As Yavari’s cries enter Nalaea’s mind. Nalaea herself cannot hold back the tears anymore. The emotional weight of that night was too much for the Princess of Kyoguild to handle. She turns around to face the door that she had left open, and sits on the wet ground. Her dress, now soaked and borderline ruined. As Nalaea cried, so did Yavari.

Nalaea looks up at the roof of the castle, where the barn owl sits and watches.

“What could I have possibly done?” Nalaea states out loud as the words echo in her mind from the young tiefling.

“Nothing. You weren’t born yet when it happened.” Roter says, now standing in the doorway.

“It wasn’t a village, it was the last druid monastery.” Nalaea says.

“I.. uh.” Roter starts before the Princess interrupts.

“Don’t you lie to me too. You and Father are the two I trusted most. I never knew my mother, so you’re the best I had. You can’t just lie your way out of this the way my father has for years. He’s told me since I was a child that the vampire king caused it. What else has he lied about. What else have you lied about, Roter?”

“Nothing! All I wanted to do was to help you.” The fox says.

“I have been kept here, in basically isolation, to train and learn about the so-called ‘amazing’ and ‘legendary’ spells my father has learned before me. I have been told countless times that the throne given to me as my birthright is built on a legacy of honor, a legacy of nobility, and a legacy of trust. All three of those, I see now as lies. I don’t trust you. I don’t think I ever will be able to again. I’m sorry, Roter.” Nalaea softens her voice, starting off sounding loud and almost demanding; she now speaks soft.

“Where would you go if not here? This is peak Werewolf season. You might not last out there.” Roter asks.

Nalaea stands up on the railing, turning to look at Roter.

“Goodbye, Miss Fuchs.” She says as she leans backward and falls off of the railing. Roter dashes to where Nalaea was just sitting, trying to look over and see any sign that she is alive. Roter begins to cry uncontrollably, she punches the stone railing until her knuckles begin to bleed. The moment her blood touches the standing water from the rain. The barn owl drops to the ground behind the fox. It grows and shapes itself into the body of a large elvish man wearing red royal garments with belts and buckles. He approaches Roter, placing a hand on her shoulder and simply saying, “There is nothing you could have done, I’ve been expecting this to happen to her for some time now. She’s gone Roter. Do not dwell feel guilty over this. This is not your fault. It’s her own. This is no more your fault than when those vampires killed your mother.” The elf king says. As the fox girl stops herself from sobbing; her sadness turns to anger. she says.

“I will finish my tasks today and all the pre-work for tomorrow. But tonight will be my last night working for you. After this, I just want to be with my sister.” Roter claims.

“That’s fine. Thank you for the twenty years of work. As of tonight, you will be formally dismissed. If you werent like family, you wouldn’t be let off as easy.” claims the Elf King.

Roter nods and heads inside as King Kyoga walks to the edge and looks over at the forest below.

[luveline]

you know, I'm coming right back [Fred Weasley x Reader]

summary: you're a lonely artist and Fred is your adoring model

word count: 2.4k

tags: reader insert, lonely reader, artist reader, seventh year, kids in love, first kiss, getting together, pining, fluff, friends-to-lovers

It was easy for you, usually, to act fine. To feel fine. Any loneliness that clouded your life was pushed firmly into the depths of your thoughts. You tried to focus on the things that mattered, essays and charms and your art.

You loved to draw. You had sketchbooks filled to the brim with sketches, some half finished, others coloured and lined. You drew everything, though you struggled to bring anything from your memory. Everything you drew had to be done right there, right then, with unsuspecting models. You sketched students eating their dinner, scribbled side profiles when you managed a spare minute in class. But you're most impressive artwork was done in the library, where nothing moved. Everyone was silent. You had pages and pages of bored, tired looking students. When exams approached, you hurriedly copied down the expressions of people on the edge of depression and panic.

You had friends, ish. You knew people. You'd had intense friendships that somehow always ended in awkward drifting aparts. Well, you thought. There must be something wrong with me. They liked me before they didn't, so the fault must've been mine.

You huffed out a sigh, pressing your face deep into the textured page of your sketch book, breathing in the smell of charcoal. You were sketching the illusive Fred Weasley, who you'd never truly drawn before. Maybe you had scraps from your second or third year when you'd still attempted to draw moving objects before getting comfortable and accepting that still life was your forte.

He was maddeningly good lucking when his eyebrows puckered in concentration. He seemed to actually be studying for once, sat at a table with his brother, George, and housemates Angelina Johnson and Alicia Spinnet.

You were sat by yourself, and couldn't help listening to his lilting voice as he bantered with his friends. They were talking about Umbridge (the current victim of the Hogwarts' student body hate train), and quidditch, and their recent ban from quidditch. You'd never played.

"Watch out, dolly fell asleep," said one of the girls.

You bit your lip. You'd been nicknamed dolly by the girls in your dorm because of your porcelain doll you'd had since childhood. Even though this year was your last, you still hadn't felt the need to hide her away. She made you feel much less anxious and alone.

The whole school knew, naturally.

"Don't get any funny ideas," said Angelina,  to the twins.

"Come on Angie, you think so little of us?" said George.

"Yesterday I watched you trick a group of forth years into taking puking pastilles." Angelina said.

"It was hardly a trick. We told them they were multi-faceted," said George.

You could hear your heartbeat if you focused. It was in your ears. It bump, bump, bumped.

Bump bump. You flinched, a hand settled on your shoulder quickly moved.

"Wake up, dolly. Library's closing."

You squinted up into Fred's face, head halo'd by candlelight. Lifting your head from the wooden table, you stretched your neck to the left. It clicked.

"Uh..."

"Hmm?" You prompted him, smoothing your hair behind your ears.

"You have - dirt. On your face. Here-" He said, reaching forward. You closed your eyes as he gently wiped the skin above your eyebrow.

"It's charcoal."

"What?"

"It's not dirt," you said, peaking at him through your eyelashes. "It's charcoal."

He looked mildly surprised. You shifted, hoping to cover your sketch before he caught sight of it.

It didn't matter.

"It's me. My gorgeous dolly, you've created quite the masterpiece right there, haven't you? I look vexingly handsome, of course. Thought if that's a consequence of your skill or my handsomeness is anyones guess."

You were lost for words. "Uh, quite."

"Yes, yes, quite. Say, could I keep it?"

"... You want the drawing?"

"I'd love it, if that's okay."

"I," you quickly dug your thumbnail into the paper, tearing carefully at the centre. The paper came away a little ragged and smudged. "Of course. It's yours."

He handled it with care.

The librarian jingled her little bell again.

"Thank you. So, see you?"

"Yep," you agreed.

He nodded his head and bowed out with his friends. You tried not to feel paranoid at their laughter.

-

You were curled up in a hidden alcove, though it was hardly hidden. Most students knew where to seek privacy in the castle. You just so happened to get there first that evening.

You were trying to sketch Fred again. It felt weird to be missing a page from your book, and weirder still that you couldn't remember his face when he wasn't right in front of you. You tried, but it kept going wrong.

When you finally managed one you liked well enough, you had accidentally ruined it with a heavy hand and the wrong shade of brown.

He looked much too brunette.

You carefully rolled your coloured pencils back up, securing the leather ties tightly so as to keep every pencil confined.

Sighing morosely, you flipped to a new page. Things got so complicated sometimes, it made you agitated. You doodled a little sad face in the corner of your page. When the one thing that you enjoyed in life started to go wrong, it set off your whole mood.

Your birthday was coming up. It had been on your mind a lot lately. You'd spend it alone. That's what you figured. Nobody would know it was your birthday, or if they did, you weren't friends now, so...

You began with an arching circle, bisecting the lines appropriately. Feeling out the familiar lines of your own face came easy, the slight upper tilt of your brows, your hair and your pursed mouth. You always looked sad in the mirror, and it showed, dotted here and there when the only thing to draw was your own face.

The rudimentary outline of a birthday cake took form. The candles were unlit.

In a fit of unhappiness, you scratched out your mouth. It was never smiling.

"What did that piece of paper ever do to you?" said a voice.

You jumped. Fred was peering down at you curiously, wringing his hands. You put your pencil between the soft cover and smashed it flat, closed.

"Hi, dolly."

"Weasley."

"Oh, not even a first name?"

"You neglected mine first," you reasoned, rolling the words. He smiled at your joking tone.

"How rude of me. Hi, Y/N," he corrected himself.

"Hi, Weasley."

He smirked.

"Anymore of me in that blessed vessel?"

"Nah. You never stand still."

"If I pose for it?" He asked. You patted the ground in front of you.

He was a lovely model. He stayed infinitely still, more still than you imagined possible for him. He sat at a 3/4ths angle, chin up but not too far, mouth tilted and eyes open.

His eyes were the one thing he couldn't keep still. You tried not to flame in the cheeks everything you'd catch his gaze on you.

You sketched fast, choosing to hatch rather than render, big swooping lines to give the illusion of a depth that wasn't really there. You would've loved to do a full render, maybe even a colour portrait, but he was beginning to look a little antsy.

You set the book on the floor to face him and pushed it into his eyesight softlt. He turned. He looked nice like that, face bent, hair falling into his eyes.

After a moment, he began scrounging through his robe pockets. He set down a box, a lighter, a pair of gloves.

Finally, he set a galleon onto the floor close to your crossed legs.

"For you," he said, smiling at your inquisitive look. "For the drawing."

"Oh, I can't accept that. And I'd like to keep this one, if it's alright."

Fred thought for a moment. "Alright, you keep it. And the galleon, too, for the one you gave me the other day."

You bit back a smile. "I can't take your money, Fred."

"I can't keep having you draw me for free. It's as valuable a service as anything else. Plus, I'm not sure if you know, but I run a lucrative business these days."

You picked up the coin, rubbing your thumb against the engravings thoughtfully. "It's hardly a service."

"A talent, then. A skill. You're very good."

You're neck almost snapped as you looked into his face, wanting to assess his expression for genuineness. He looked earnest, and kind. You blinked away the gathering heat behind your eyes.

"Thank you."

He waved a hand at you. "Think nothing of it."

"Really-" you cleared your throat, "-you're doing me a favour. I'm not good at drawing things that move."

"I'm sure you're better than you think," he said.

You shook your head, smiling smiling smiling.

"What's in the box?"

"Oh, this old thing?" Fred weighed the box in his hands. It was soft at the corners, like a simple jewelry box that you had in your trunk. He offered it to you. You opened it carefully, the lid sliding free with a shhhhh sound. Inside was an evil looking fruit pastille, a match stick and a dried up flower petal.

It felt like a very private thing to see, suddenly. Such an eclectic collection of items couldn't be random.

"The first puking pastille George and I made. Or rather, the second - the first was forcibly fed to Lee Jordan in our third year. The match stick is from my Uncle's matchbox. I never met him. And the flower was from Ginny, when she was 9." He sounded nervous.

"It's a memory box."

"I- yes. It is. Things are sometimes so miserable now, with Umbridge and you-know-who. Scary, even. I look at them when I feel like it won't ever end."

You took them in for a little while longer and then placed the lid onto the box with nimble fingers. You scratched the lid with a fingernail.

"It's nice. You're right. Things are so awful right now, it's good to have reminders of why we keep going."

"Exaclty. Dolly, can I interest you in a fruit pastille?"

"Not on your life."

"They're perfectly edible!"

"Sure, Fred."

-

The honest conversation you'd shared with Fred was a catalyst between you. He often came to find you, each time whining and nagging you to just sit in the library like most people do.

"What, so your housemates can throw paper balls at me?"

"They thought you were sleeping!"

A likely story, you thought. He sometimes asked you to draw him, posing with the elegance of a natural born model. It was great for you personally, you felt that you were really getting a feel for his face. Eventually, you were able to draw his face from memory, the details of his nose coming to your fingers as easily as a first year spell.

It became about capturing emotion. You could capture his likeness now without a second thought, but his emotions were much more complicated. How would you show his veiled frustration the day Umbridge kicked him off the quidditch team? Through the clenching of his jaw? The shy veins in his forehead? How did you showcase the fear when he'd come back to Hogwarts after Christmas break, through his eyes, downturned and squinting just a little?

Today, it was poorly hidden elation. "How come you're so happy?" You asked, pencil between your teeth. He grinned. You measured his face with your thumb in the air, forming an L.

"Is it a prank?"

"You're thinking too small."

"A new product?"

"Still need to go bigger!"

"Hmmm," you hummed. Measure twice, cut once. Or in your case, sketch once.

"George and I, we're gonna open a shop."

"A section at Zonko's isn't enough for you?" You asked, casually, though you were very very happy for him.

"It's going to be amazing. We're going to run it, just the two of us, and you won't catch me in these scrappy long sleeves anymore. The next time you see me, I'll be in a full suit and tie."

"The next time? Is that not tomorrow?"

Fred closed his mouth, realising his mistake. He had revealed something he hadn't intended to. "We're leaving," he confessed. "We were going to wait for our NEWTs but... Well, we won't need them. This is going to work."

"So. You're leaving today?" You asked, crestfallen.

"Hey," Fred said, rubbing a placating hand over the curve of your shoulder. "Tomorrow. During the DADA OWL. We have a plan."

"This is goodbye?"

"No! No. Not if you don't want it to be. Actually, I've been meaning to ask you something, and maybe now isn't the best time, I had this whole letter planned and I didn't want to distract you from your exams and-"

"What do you want to ask me?"

Fred straightened. "I wanted to ask - will you go out with me? Not, you don't have to be my girlfriend if it's too soon, I'd love to take you for food someplace, I was going to ask you to Hogsmeade, but when the shop officially became ours, the plans changed so fast and I didn't know if you'd still want-" you cut off his rambling.

"I'll be your girlfriend," you said.

"You will?"

"Sure, if you'll be my boyfriend," you murmured.

Fred moved the arm that had been on your shoulder to the nape of your neck. "That's a dealbreaker," he said, leaning in.

He kissed you chastely on the lips first and then pulled back to look into your face. You chased him, a moment of bravery, and opened your mouth to taste him. He was sweet, like sugar. Your sketch pad crinkled beneath you both as he pressed forward. Your chests touched, heaving.

"You're not gonna be my boyfriend?" You asked against his mouth, breathing hard.

"I'm gonna be much more than that, dolly," he said heatedly.

Your mouth was tingling. "Kiss me again?"

You gasped at the force of him, laughing. He laughed too against your lips, and the sound tickled. He gave you a multitude of short and sweet kisses before pulling away again.

He wiped the wetness from your lip with his pinky finger. "Godric, you're cute. Look how flushed you are! You're insane."

Something churned in your stomach. The butterflies had acquired a trampoline. You felt happier than you had in a very long time. "You're not half-bad yourself, Weasley."

[agentrouka-blog]

What would be your self-indulgent ending to ASOIAF? Or, if that's too much, just Sansa. Where do you want her story to go, and how is it getting there? Who are her friends and allies she makes along the way? Where does she travel on her journey? etc.

Hi anon!

I don't actually have too many thoughts on Sansa's ending that I would consider self-indulgent. Most of what I picture are things that I simply expect the plot to be. Queenship in the North simply makes sense. I can never tire of emphasizing that I was converted to Jonsa by the pure and simple logic of it. And the myriad hints in the text foreshadowing it. This is not wishful thinking on my part but a concrete expectation based on what I think is the most probable from GRRM's end.

Now, what self-indulgent thing would I adore about her journey there? What am I not certain about but would love?

(A lot of random things, it turns out.)

Sansa having shenanigans with the mountain clans. Just, after drama in the Vale, they help her travel, and she loathes the discomfort of the wilderness, she has inner snark even while appreciating the natural beauty around her. She perseveres in spite of neither liking nor being good at it. She learns about how their culture with the same polite curiosity she had for Ellaria Sand. And she finally forms genuine relationships with others once she is removed from the pressure of having to perform to captors or being unable to trust anyone. I would love to just watch Sansa in the process of finding her feet in a strange environment on her own terms.

I also want to see her feel safe enough with someone to just be herself. And who appreciates her in turn. Jeyne Poole and Sansa sneaking into the kitchens together to grab a secret snack and just talk and cry and comfort each other would be splendid. A sad but warm mirror to their strawberry tart escapades in KL.

I want GRRM to show us Sansa singing again. And I want him to finally make good on her talent with needlework. We've been told but we have not been shown, and since Arya's needlework is thematically important, Sansa's also has to be. And since that discrepancy is voiced in the text in the context of Jon Snow... well... some kind of garment with the Stark sigil for Jon would just make sense. With "exquisite" stitches. I want needlework metaphors that emphasize the contrast to the sword, the process of connecting and constructing.

I want big hugs, especially with Arya, who needs hugs and acceptance from Sansa, as well. I want every Starkling who ever uttered that Sansa's interest in songs and romance is "stupid" to utter something admiring about her intelligence or her soft skills. I want her to have some kind of paternal relationship that values her strengths, without an abusive or neglectful element in it (Bronze Yohn?), and I want her to have the ability to make peace with her relationship with Ned, probably in the context of someone else who has similar issues with him (Jon), and I want her to reflect on Lady and her connection to her without it being framed as inferior to full-fledged warging.

I want Sansa to get drunk and dance. Elegant courtly dancing and then just wild, jumpy, sweaty circle dances where everyone's on the verge of stumbling over each other's feet and giggling. Party all night, Sansa, you’ve earned it.

I want Brienne and Sansa to meet and Sansa to practically implode with the inner validation: A True Knight, and have her say all kinds of admiring things to Brienne who will very bravely try not to cry at Being Perceived by someone who loves every single thing she stands for.

I want Sansa in the snow again. I want her to look at Winterfell, be davastated and then straighten her spine and remember her snow castle.

I want Sansa and Ghost to form a deep bond. Essentially, her white-cloaked queensguard when Jon is in the South.

I want Sansa and Rickon to see each other again, I want him to be hugged by someone who reminds him of his mother, and for Sansa to develop a nervous twitch at having a little wildling on her hands even more temperamental than Sweetrobin.

Just.. lots of stuff! That centers around Sansa finally being free and being allowed to shine. Or form real connections, even when they are hard. Or just genuinely be annoyed at something without it being a delicate balancing act. 

[queen-of-the-vampires]

Don’t Mess With The Queen

Characters: Klaus Mikaelson x Hybrid!Reader

Word count: ~1.7k

Warnings: none

Request by anonymous: Could u do a imagine where the reader is friends with the mystic falls gang and is a werewolf and finds out that she and klaus r mates?

Summary: People who you want to call your friends are planning on killing the love of your life. It’s your job to show them who’s really the boss.

Author’s Note: This is a female!reader. I did change this request a tad, but I hope you like it! I haven’t written for TVD in a while now, so please bear with me on this. After asking a few people, I have decided to end this on a fluffy note. I did write an angsty alternate ending, but I don’t know if the anon who requested wanted that or not.

No one knows why you’re really here. They all think you’re their friend, so they feel comfortable disclosing their plan right in front of you. You want to be friends with them because they seem like genuinely nice people, but they are so fueled by rage and revenge that they’ll do anything to get it… even plotting against your mate, your sire, the love of your life.

Stefan and Damon have spent their entire life fighting each other and putting their noses in places where it doesn’t belong. Elena and Caroline have always been the people who want to fix others, to make them better even if there is nothing wrong with them. Bonnie is always stuck in the middle of everyone’s problems, putting herself and others in danger for no reason.

“So, what’s the plan here?” Elena asks, taking out the last bit of weapons she has stashed in the Boarding House.

“First thing we need to do is pick a location. When is Klaus most vulnerable?” Stefan asks.

“Yeah, the last time we did that, Elijah betrayed us. That moonrock or whatever was our only chance to get him at his weakest.”

“You were one of Klaus’ bitches. What do you think?” Damon asks and turns to you.

“What?” you ask, pulling back from your own thoughts.

“You spent over two years sired to him before Tyler saved you. You must know things that can help here,” Elena says.

What she says is true. You were sired to Klaus for two years, but not in the way they believe. You were sired to him in the beginning when you were first turned by Klaus’ mother. You were a werewolf that was in the same village as Klaus and his family. You two became fast friends, always leaning on each other whenever his abusive father and your abusive mother decided to make you two their toys.

Everything was going fine until one of your own decided to kill the youngest member of the Mikaelson family. There was a family friend of Esther, Tatia, that she used her blood in a spell that would make them the Original vampires. Klaus wanted you to have the same thing, so without his parents knowing, he gave you some of that wine. You were the first-ever turned hybrid that came from a spell.

You and Klaus have spent every moment together ever since. What the gang of Mystic Falls doesn’t know is just how old you are. They think you were just another hybrid that he made with Elena’s blood, stuck with him against your will. Tyler found your pack in the mountains and proceeded to unsire every single one of Klaus’ hybrids. When Tyler got to you, that’s when you started to catch onto what he was doing.

If Tyler wanted to desperately to save you, then you were going to act like you wanted to be saved. You came to Mystic Falls and befriended the vampires in the town. Now, they all think that you hate Klaus as much as they do when really, you’re just as in love with him as you were when you first met him.

“He really liked hiding out in the woods, though, they’re usually on werewolf territory, so good luck trying to get there. It’s probably why you can never find him. The werewolves will get to you before he does. He hears chatter in the wind and he moves to another pack site.”

“That’s smart,” Caroline comments.

“Yeah, so you’re not going to find him there.”

“Guys, we need to figure out something, or else more people are going to get hurt,” Elena says. Sometimes, you really want to kill her so you don’t have to hear her speak. “Klaus needs to die.”

Hearing them talk about killing the love of your life enrages you a little bit. You could take every single person in here without breaking a sweat, but you don’t turn to violence just yet. You take out your phone to let Klaus know exactly what they’re planning. You’d be a bad girlfriend if you let them attack without warning him.

They’re planning on killing you, my love.

It’s cute if they think they can.

They seem hell-bent on figuring it out.

I’m not afraid of them if that’s what you’re worried about. They can’t hurt me even with their best player.

I’m worried someone is going to get very hurt. What should I tell them?

Tell them where I am. Let them come. If it’s a war they want, I’m only happy to provide.

Are you sure?

I’m always sure, love.

You put your phone away and look at the small group, getting up to join the elite circle.

“I do know where Klaus lives.”

“That would have been nice to know a little earlier, don’t you think?” Damon sneers.

“Damon, don’t,” Stefan butts in. “Where is he?”

“New Orleans. That place is crawling with witches and vampires, but he and his family are stationed there.”

“How do you know this?”

“Because he took me there once. The witches will know once you arrive, but most of them are scared of Klaus anyway that they’ll help you blend in. Everyone from that town knows the Mikaelsons are royalty, but their castle doesn’t have a lot of guards protecting it. If you want to get to him, that’s where you want to do it.”

“How do you know all of this? This seems awfully suspicious for someone who isn’t sired to him anymore.”

“He still thinks I am. He’ll call me every day and ask for something. He figures if he has a hybrid in another state that I can do his dirty work for him elsewhere. You want to get Klaus? That’s how you’re going to do it.”

“She does have a point. Better to take this fight to his turf than ours. He’s more comfortable there,” Stefan points out.

Now that they know a location, it didn’t take long for them to come up with a plan of attack. Of course, you told everything to Klaus as soon as you were on the plane to get to New Orleans. He told you not to worry about a thing because he’ll plan a little something for their arrival.

No one messes with the King and his Queen.

When you land in New Orleans, the gang is eager to carry out their plan of attack. Just like you said, the town is crawling with witches who sense you the minute you landed. Every single witch knows you by heart, so they’re confused why you’re with them and not with Klaus. Your love must have only told them the basic information instead of what was really going on.

“Okay, where is this son of a bitch?” Damon asks.

“The French Quarter is where he likes to hang out. You’ll want to start there. Caroline and Elena will blend in more since they’ve never been here, but you two might stick out like a sore thumb. Just be prepared. If anything, I know these guys so let me do the talking.” You pause right in front of the group and turn to Bonnie. “And Bonnie? These guys know you’re a Bennett witch. Try not to do magic unless absolutely necessary. Klaus has a thing with witches.”

You lead the group into the French Quarter while keeping your head down to avoid conflict. The group follows your lead until you reach the middle of the place you call home.

“Stay here,” you say and leave the group on your own.

You approach the small bar within the Quarter, and lean over the counter a tad, looking at the bartender.

“Is Klaus here?”

“I’m right here,” you hear your lover’s voice. You and the Mystic Falls gang turn to see him standing in one of the many doorways that enter the French Quarter. “I hear you’re looking for me?”

“Where in the world did you hear that?” Damon asks, giving you a side glare. You step away from the group and speed over to Klaus, standing just a tad behind him. He smirks and doesn’t break eye contact with the older brother. “Traitor.”

“It isn’t a betrayal if I was never on your side to begin with,” you state.

“What are you doing? You’re not sired to him anymore,” Stefan tries to appeal to you.

“My sire bond wore off in the tenth century. I’m a lot older than you think I am. I really did want to be your friend, but you’re all so driven by rage and revenge that you can’t leave us alone until we’re fixed to the standards set by you. Next time you plan to kill someone, you should think twice about who you let into your home.”

“We should get going,” Elena whispers.

“Always the level-headed one, Elena. Too bad you can’t,” Klaus grins.

Stefan and Damon try to leave using their vampire speed, but they are blocked by the spell put there from the witches in this town. It’s like a big spell to trap the four vampires and the one witch inside. Caroline steps into the sun and immediately screams in pain, seeking the shade to calm her burning skin.

“My daylight ring isn’t working.”

“Yes, you’re all trapped here. For how long is still yet to be determined. Welcome to the French Quarter ladies and gentlemen,” Klaus chuckles.

“I can’t use my magic,” Bonnie panics.

“The next time you even think about going after Klaus, I won’t be so nice,” you say.

Klaus wraps an arm around your shoulders and pulls you close, whispering something into your ear.

“Pardon us, we have other business to tend to.”

Klaus leads you away from the group, and only when you two are alone, does he turn you so that you’re facing him.

“You can relax, Klaus, no one is going to hurt you. Not as long as I am alive.”

“I can take care of myself, love,” he chuckles.

“Yeah, but isn’t it better when I do it?”

“Tenfold.”

“Always and forever, my love,” you whisper.

You lean in and press your lips to his, showing him just how much you love him.

wanna be tagged? add yourself to this document! if your tag doesn’t work, find out why! (not sure how much i will write for this fandom, but add yourself if you want!)

@essie1876​ @choosemyname​ @cuddlyklaus​ @sotmperrie​ @akshi8278​ @chynarosep101​ @gh0stgurl​ @littlemissslytherinprincess​ @honeybums-blog​ @kendall-michele​ @tdntu0​ @miraclesoflove​ @nasatonie​ @thelazywitchphotographer​

[moonyswolfie]

Legillimens

Soooo I love the rougher, player Sirius fics, I really do. I have plenty saved in my likes. But I can’t help thinking that when this sweet man falls in love, he becomes the fluffiest and blushiest ever, even more than sweet baby Remus.

So here is some soft and fluffy Sirius, enjoy everyone!

Sirius Black x Legillimens!reader

Summary: Sirius is trying to come up with a way to ask you out, unaware that his thoughts are loud and clear for you to hear...

Sirius found himself to be a nervous mess around you lately, a fact that made you giddy. After all, it wasn’t every day that the school ‘s infamous charmer was reduced to a stuttering, blushing mess.

You and Sirius have been friends for a few years now – just friends – but in the last couple of months both your feelings have changed, taking a romantic turn.

It started slow for you, catching yourself stealing glances at his beautiful face during lessons, finding his jokes genuinely funny and lighting up every time you laid eyes on that gorgeous, radiant smile of his.

Before long, you came to the shocking realization that you have fallen for your best friend – and that you were surely doomed to a life of heartbreak seeing as he only thought of you as a friend and nothing more.

And unlike other girls, you could actually state that fact with full certainty.

You’ve been born with a rare ability : you were a Legillimens, meaning that you could hear other people’s thoughts, and not always intentionally.

It was a strange ability, one you’ve grown accustomed to over the years.

Many times you’ve wandered the corridors of the castle and heard what you thought were people right by your side, yet when you turned to look, no one was there. They were thoughts coming from different Chambers, from various people.

And such was the case with your best friend during your current lesson. You didn’t mean to pry, you actually did your best to avoid his thoughts as much as you possibly could at all times – something you did with all your best friends - in fear that you would intrude on their privacy, but now Sirius‘ were loud enough that you could hear them from the other end of the room you two were in.

‘Y/N, how about you and me an…no, scratch that. It sounds horrible. Come on, Sirius, you can charm every girl in this entire castle with one look, you can ask your best friend on a date!‘

The last comment got an eye roll out of you, but still, a huge, surprised smile tugged at the corners of your lips.

To say that you were taken aback when you heard your name would be an understatement. Did that mean he fancies you too?

You never thought that he would return your feelings, let alone want to date you.

But this shy side of him you were hearing now, this was quite flattering.

‘Hey, Y/N… yes, definitely better’ the voice in his head sounded less frustrated this time around ‘would you… maybe… if you want… uh… go out..on a date…with me?“

You had to physically restrain yourself from awwing out loud and answering his question since you were in the middle of Potions class, but you were beaming.

Sirius Black returned your feelings.

It felt wrong every time you overheard other people’s intimate thoughts, but this time the guilt was a lot smaller in comparison to your happiness.

He wanted to ask you out, but the thought made him nervous.

You chewed on your lower lip, lost in your mind, and didn’t hear the bell announcing the end of the lesson until a tall figure leaned against the wall to your right.

“Ready to go, Y/N? We have a few essays to write for tomorrow, so we’d better get started on them.”

You stirred back to reality and nodded, smiling in Sirius’ direction.

“Yes, of course, let’s.”

You got up and packed your stuff quickly, exiting the class with him and joining the rest of the Marauders on the corridor.

The second he laid eyes on you, James furrowed his brows.

“What’s got you this happy, Y/N/N?“

You shrugged and started walking towards the Library.

“Nothing in particular, Jamie, I’m just excited that the weekend in one day away and that we have a Hogsmeade trip too.”

He grins, one that Remus matched perfectly. You knew exactly what was on their minds without needing to look, they were excited to go to Zonko’s and stock up on prank items.

*

Three hours later, you let out a groan and sprawl yourself all over the library table.

“If I never hear the word ‘war’ again, it would be too soon”

The boys laughed and shook their heads, adding the finishing touches on their own History of Magic essays about the Giant Wars. James finished first and nearly jumped out of his seat when he saw the time.

“Blimey, I’m late again for Quidditch practice! This essay took forever. I’ll see you guys after!“ he yelled the last part on his way out, earning a bunch of giggles from the rest of you and a harsh shushing from Madame Pince.

You sighed and changed your position, your head now resting on your arms, yet this time you stole cheeky glances at Sirius when you were sure he wasn’t looking.

He is most handsome when he’s focusing like that, hair slipping in front of his face, shielding half from sight, tongue sticking out all cute when he’s deep in concentration...

‘Maybe ask her now. She’s right in front of you, come on, this is your chance…’

Sirius tilted his head and glanced at Moony, who was filling his third parchment with his beautiful and neat handwriting.

‘Or after Moony leaves too… or maybe kick him out somehow?'

You started giggling at his last thought and that got weird looks your way from both boys. You blushed bright red and shook your head, waving them off.

“Was trying to set up a plan for a prank on Pince. Though I think I may have gone too far and it’s not doable either“ you replied quick, to cover your mistake.

The boys have known about your gift from day one. After all, you weren’t about to hide from your best friends, were you?

But they were also counting on your promise to stay away from their heads, so they never worried about you reading their minds before, and nothing changed now. Remus shrugged and went back to writing while Sirius chewed on the end of his quill, a habit that you found quite adorable.

They were none the wiser at the cause of your giggle, and you breathed out a sigh of relief. If Sirius knew, this would have turned very awkward insanely fast.

Twenty more minutes have passed before Remus put his quill down and gathered the now four scrolls of parchment and stuffed them in his bag.

“I think I’ll go and catch up on some sleep now, if you don’t mind, I can still feel the last full moon’s effects on me” he said and muffled a yawn “Pads, you coming up too?“

Sirius hummed and looked up from his own essay, now covered in doodles on the edges.

“Hmm? No, I’m good, Moons, I’ll actually stay a bit more and compare some Charms notes with Y/N/N” he said and winked your way, making a faint blush dust your cheeks.

Moony smiled as well and got up.

“Suit yourselves” he said and he was out the door a moment later.

“So… “ you started and fumbled for your Charms notes in your bag, but Sirius’ hand on your wrist stopped you mid movement.

“No, I… the Charms notes were just a pretext, I’m sorry. Truth is, I wanted to ask you something and I wanted you alone for that” he finished in a whisper and his cheeks were now a matching shade of pink to your own.

You stifled a smile and offered him your full attention, raising a brow curious.

“Would you like to… maybe… if you want, I mean, you don’t have to… I mean… “ he groaned and buried his face in his hands “would you want to go with me… maybe tomorrow….“ he stopped again and his blush intensified, increasing your urge to aww and cover him in kisses.

His flustered state, as much as it melted your heart, made up your mind and so you put him out of his misery.

“I would love to go on a date with you, Sirius” you said soft, taking his hand in yours and drawing small circles on the back of it.

He frowned in confusion, which made a guilty expression appear on your face.

“Your thoughts have been pretty loud today, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to pry.”

Although his cheeks were beet red at this point, he couldn’t help but chuckle and pull you to his chest, holding you tight and kissing the top of your head sweet.

“Well, I’m quite glad they were, I don’t know if I’d have been able to properly ask you that question.”

You giggled and buried your face in his chest, inhaling his familiar scent and letting it wash over you, engulfing you in the most pleasant sensation you’ve ever felt.

[krispytidalwavesheep]

Hopes and Dreams IV

Thanks for your continious support! I will try to update at least once a day every day, and in case I won’T be able to write much I already prepared some more chapters. After this chapter, I will try and reveal more of readers backround, bit by bit. Heisenberg and the other Lords will have a bigger role in the long run too. But I don’t want to spoil anything just yet :) Constructive criticism is always welcome, by the way. Only then I can learn to get better at writing! ***

You woke up to a knock on your door and groaned. It was way to early to be awake, if your sluggish mind was anything to go by, but you still managed to mumble an “Enter” to the person standing in front of your door. A part of you was rather disappointed when it wasn’t the lady of the castle, but the daughter you recognized as Bela.

“Mother awaits you for breakfast in 10 minutes. I have brought you a change of clothing too, but you better hurry. The way to the dining room is rather long, and mother doesn’t like to be kept waiting.”

“Thank you. I won’t be long.” You smiled and grabbed the clothes Bela handed to you. You were glad that she handed you a simple tunic and simple pants since you wouldn’t be comfortable to fight in a dress. Or wear a dress altogether. Even though you still felt kind of weird about your dream, you also felt kind of giddy at the prospect to fight the lady’s daughters.

“I’m ready!” you said smiling when you left your chambers. Bela gave you a small smile in return and motioned for you to follow her. You easily fell into step beside her and looked at your surroundings. The whole design of the castle practically screamed Lady Dimitrescu and you honestly liked how the place was designed. It was fitting.

“My sisters and I will show you around soon. Cassandra is needed elsewhere today, and Daniela is stronger than me, so it was decided that you would go one on one for now.” She said by way of explanation and you nodded. You were pretty sure that Daniela wanted to fight you by herself because she felt humiliated from yesterday. Anyway, you still had the chance to impress the lady of the castle and that was more important.

“I am very impressed if I am honest. Not only did you sense Daniela as soon as she decided to attack, but you managed to pin her down as if it was nothing. She was practically fuming when she announced your presence yesterday.”

“She isn’t the first vampire that I have fought. Which doesn’t mean that I will underestimate her. The element of surprise was certainly on my side yesterday.” You said, deep in thought. You were confident that you could overpower her, but the fact that she could turn into a swarm of insects certainly gave her an advantage.

“Mother told us as much yesterday. I would really like to hear more about your travels when the opportunity arises. Life in the castle is good, but sometimes I find that I miss the outside world, at least a little bit.” Bela said and opened the door to the dining room. Your eyes found those of the lady immediately, and you smiled at her. The dream came back to the forefront of your mind, but you decided to postpone your musing in favor of greeting her with a little bow.

“My, my, aren’t we charming today.” She purred and you felt the temperature in your face rise a bit. That voice was sinful, and you briefly wondered what it would sound like moaning your name. ‘Woah there,’ you thought and shook your head. Where did that thought come from?

“I have a little gift for you, my dear. Come closer, will you?” she said and pulled something from under the table. She gently placed the item in your hands and said, “It’s a pendant with the Dimitrescu crest. You are required to always wear it, since it offers certain protection in these parts. Pesky Lycans won’t bother you anymore too.”

“At least invite me to dinner first,” you winked which made Bela laugh and Lady Dimitrescu sigh exasperatedly.

“I appreciate the gesture, my lady. Thank you,” you said and bowed again, which made Bela laugh even more. You shot her a wink too before you sat down on the chair to the lady’s left. Just as you wanted to say something, the doors flew open and Daniela entered the room, glaring at you. You gave her the sweetest smile you were able to give and wished her a good morning. To your amusement you noticed Lady Dimitrescu hiding a chuckle between her hand which made you puff out your chest a little bit.

“Good morning, mother, Bela. And good morning too you to, little guard dog.” Daniela said, giving you a nasty smile but you just started laughing.

“Daniela, what did I tell you about manners in front of our guests?” Lady Dimitrescu hissed, ignoring your laughter in favor of glaring at her troublemaker of a child.

“Sorry mother…” Daniela mumbled and turned towards you, “Sorry for calling you a guard dog.”

“It’s okay. A little teasing before sparring is nice, and I don’t really mind the nickname.” You said and gave her a genuine smile. Daniela just nodded and took a seat so that you could start on breakfast.

***

“Don’t go easy on me, alright?” you smile while stretching a bit to get your muscles working. Daniela growled something undoubtedly rude, but you let it slide. What made you gulp though was when Daniela charged at you with inhuman speed, stopping right by your ear.

“Tell you what. If you win, I’ll show you a little secret the next time Mother is away.”

“And what if you win?”

“Suggest something.”

“I can bake mad cookies, tailored to the palate of vampiric creatures.” You said, intending it to be a joke. But Daniela’s eyes glittered at the word cookie and you huffed out a laugh.

“Deal!” she said, shaking your hand and taking a stance a few feet away from you.

“Whenever you’re ready bugaboo!” You said with a wink which made Daniela bristle and Bela and Lady Dimitrescu laugh. Bela handed each of you a wooden weapon, a knife for you and a sickle for Daniela and you took the same stance as Daniela.

Both of you circled each other warily, but soon enough Daniela made her first move, which you easily deflected. You silently analyzed each other, always circling, until you decided it was high time you made your first move. Daniela was confident in the way she held herself and her weapon of choice. She was an experienced fighter, but she was also impatient, so you should have an opening soon. You ducked under a swing and tried to ram the hilt of your knife in her shoulder, but she turned into that damn swarm of bugs, evading your attack.

“Is that all that you can do?” she asked, rematerializing a few feet away. You just smiled at her and resumed your attempts to get to her. You started analyzing her movements and the bugs behavior when you got a sudden idea. What if they had a hivemind? That would mean that there was a queen bug somewhere in there. You continuously attacked her, looking for strange behavior and soon enough you found what you were looking for. There was indeed one bug that was bigger and always surrounded by a swarm of other bugs.

When Daniela saw your triumphant grin, it was already too late. As gently as you could you grabbed the bug queen and Daniela was on the floor, not able to move. You gently released the bug and Daniela gasped for air. Kneeling in front of her you offered her your hand and to the surprise of everyone in attendance she took it, giving you the first genuine smile.

“Sorry if I hurt you, bugaboo. I’ll still make you those cookies if you want to.”

“It’s okay. I’m honestly impressed that you got it so fast, and by the looks mother is giving you, she is too.”

Almost against your will you turned towards Lady Dimitrescu and sure enough, she was smiling at you. The two of you made your way to where she was sitting, Daniela shoving you playfully and saying, “Next time I will get you though, little guard dog.”

“Hah, I’d like to see you try. I can sense your intentions a mile away!”

“It is good to see that you get along so well, seeing as you two have the same chaotic energy.” Lady Dimitrescu smiled gently.

“I like her!” you both said in unison and started laughing. It honestly made you fell all warm and giddy inside. That weird feeling of being right where you were supposed to be only grew with that interaction and you decided to embrace it, for however long it took. When you looked at Lady Dimitrescu you could see a gentle affection in her eyes, and it made you feel all sorts of good things.

“Let us go inside for some tea. I feel quite thirsty,” Lady Dimitrescu said and stood, but before you could follow her you got stopped by Bela’s hand on your arm.

“Everything alright?” you ask cautiously but Bela just smiled and said, “Thank you.”

“What for?”

“It has been a long time since I have seen Mama smile so much. Please try not to get yourself killed, okay?” Bela said. That last part seemed a bit odd and with a thoughtful frown you followed her inside. You felt like you were missing something from the bigger picture here. First, the weird familiarity you felt towards Lady Dimitrescu, then the weird dream with the girl who looked so much like you and now that statement from Bela, that somehow left a weird feeling behind.  Something was going on and you really hated not knowing what exactly. Without realizing you gently grabbed the pendant around your neck and started to caress it gently.

***

Taglist: @imdreamingblo @x-x-trixxster-k-m-w-x-x @gayllamafromspace @catswag22 @imnatynat 

Let me know if you want to get tagged for future chapters!

[adorerdraco]

Bugs and Hisses ✧ Draco x Reader

Summary: Halloween with Draco <3 Friends into BOO’s (teehee)

Warnings: mild drinking nothing tooo crazy but not encouraging it !

Words: 5.2K

A/N: this is my first one shot in like a month and i ofc had to do something for halloween even tho im a tad late but its still a halloweekend KIND OF !!!!!!! </3 I HOPE ITS GOOOD

“No, it’s a stupid holiday.”

Draco crossed his arms in a stubborn child-like way, a scowl on his face as he stared forward towards the front of the class where Snape was giving a lecture on the small but vicious Erkling creatures.

“Come on, please,” you pleaded quietly. Your gaze kept flickering between your easily-irked professor and the pouting blond beside you, hoping that in a few short seconds you would get the answer you were hoping for that way you could get back into your notes instead of possibly getting a detention or losing house points.

In all the years you’ve been friends with the Prince of Slytherin, you learned that he loathed the holiday and any festivities that came with it. Every year, you beg him to go out to one of the many parties that are thrown ranging from small gatherings to full-on blowouts or just do something halloween related with you, but he always refuses. His reasoning, as he put it, was that he was simply ‘too mature to be dressing up as a foul creature.’

You knew he mostly spent the holiday either asleep in his dorm or walking around aimlessly with Crabbe and Goyle to target unsuspecting first-years after the big feast but this year, you finally had enough of his anti-halloween agenda. You wanted to spend the evening and hopefully night with him laughing by your side and showing him how fun everything could be, but most of all - you wanted to see him in a costume.

“Please, if you go I will never ask you for anything ever again,” you tried again once Snape had turned his back to the class. 

Draco pursed his lips as though he was genuinely considering it, his eyes still locked on the back of the greasy-haired professor before he turned slightly to you with a deep sigh. “Fine, but don’t expect this to be an annual thing.”

You gave him a bright smile, holding yourself back from jumping around in your seat and completely pushing aside the desire to throw your arms around him in excitement.

“I promise you’ll have fun.”

He hid the small smile that grew on his face from seeing how happy his answer made you, turning his head down towards his parchment filled with notes that all of a sudden seemed interesting as he avoided your gaze. He wouldn’t admit it, but he was the smallest bit of excited at the thought of spending the holiday with you because he knew that wherever you went or whatever you did, he would be perfectly content with you by his side because for the first time in all your years as friends; he realized only a month ago that the weird fluttering feeling in the pit of his stomach when he was around you or the weird overwhelming warmth that spread throughout his entire body like an ocean of water breaking through a dam - was a crush. He hated it at first, noticing and begrudgingly acknowledging it. He thought it was cliche that he somehow fell for one of his closest friends and mostly, he thought that he was going to ruin the friendship entirely. He wanted to wreck it himself, trying to distance himself from you and being extra mean - but he couldn’t.

He adored your company too much and everything that came with you. He adores your laugh, your smile, your hugs when you greet him and how you somehow give him one each time he needs it the most. He adores the study-buddy system you guys have almost every other week before a quiz or an exam. He adores your bad jokes and clumsy accidents even though those qualities annoy him with anyone else. He adores the way you want him to join you in everything fun you and he especially adores the times when he overhears you talking about him as if he’s your favorite person in the world.

Bottom line, he’s all about you.

So when this season of spookiness came, he was expecting your pleading for him to spend the day with you. Only this time, it only took you a couple times before he ultimately agreed to give in to you.

You were ready to explode with thrill at the thought of what the night held in store for you and you didn’t hide it one bit. When the big Hogwarts Hallowe’en feast was over and every one began spilling out from the Great Hall and into the main foyer, you were searching restlessly for a clean mop of silver hair that almost always stuck out in the mass of students. You weren’t sure if you were able to spot him anywhere in under a few seconds because he was unimaginably important to you, or because his hair was so uniquely bright, or maybe it was how boisterous and loud Crabbe and Goyle always were when they were by him, especially if he was with other Slytherins - but you found him, every single time with ease.

After standing on your tippy-toes several times to overlook the stampede of everyone, you finally spotted Draco leaning across a pillar with his arms crossed and a smirk on his face while he stood in a circle of his House friends that included his two goons and his quidditch teammates. You watched him thoughtfully as you approached, taking slow steps towards the group to admire him from afar and also because they were all slightly intimidating. He looked lost in the conversation, laughs escaping from his upturned lips as he listened to whatever was being said, large pale hands running through his hair every so often when the front pieces of his hair would flop down to his forehead. 

He looked ridiculously good and effortlessly at that.

You weren’t sure if you should interrupt, hesitating a few feet away from them to where they couldn’t sense your presence but you were close enough to see and hear them clearly.

“We’ll see you later tonight then, Malfoy?” One of the boys nodded towards Draco.

“I’ll show up for a bit, I suppose,” he shrugs.

You see him look around the circle of boys, eyes landing on you momentarily and then back to his friends before doing a double-take towards you again in surprise. You tried to ignore the butterflies erupting in your stomach when his smile widens slightly into a short-lived toothy grin while he said a quick goodbye to his friends causing them all to disband and him to start approaching you.

“Are you ready for the halloween of a lifetime?” You ask as he neared.

He rolled his eyes, laughing faintly. “Where am I meeting you, darling?”

The nick name he used so rarely for you made your knees feel weak, a warm blush rushing up your neck and inching onto your cheeks that you knew was going to be very apparent on your face in a few seconds.

“I’ll meet you right here in an hour,” you say quickly.

You didn’t give him time to answer before you turned quickly in the direction of your common room and began rushing away before he could see the effect he had on you that was so clearly appearing on your face.

You didn’t know what the night held for you and Draco or where it would lead you. Unknowing to you, you were both hoping something more could come out of the evening between the two of you. But he wasn’t one to express himself in that department of feelings and you weren’t feeling bold enough to say anything about yours. It was a gray area of hoping that fate could somehow intervene and throw the two of you into what you both wanted without either of you really saying anything - but it was impossible. There was no outcome or situation you had in mind that could lead you into that, so you were stuck desperately hoping that one day things might end up differently.

It was beginning to feel ironic how in your world full of real tangible magic, there wasn’t a magical solution to your problem. You were trapped feeling like a muggle who had to figure things out by themselves, no magic included. The thought of giving him a love potion did cross your mind as a joke, but it wasn’t a genuine or fair option but little did you know, you don’t need a potion for him to feel the same way - because he already did.

Walking into your dorm felt like an exuberant disaster of everyone running around and sitting in front of mirrors with their makeup or dressing into their costumes. It was noisy and filled with chatter and you were in shock from how much clutter everyone was able to make in such a short period of time from when the feast ended to now. A simple spell would clean everything up so you and everybody else didn’t really pay it any mind. 

You maneuvered around the mess of your housemates and towards your bed where your costume was kept in the trunk underneath it, plopping down onto the floor to pull it from the underskirt of your House colored bedding.

“Did he finally say yes?” Your closest roomie friend jumped onto your bed, propping herself up on her elbows and resting her chin on her hands as she watched you dig through your bottomless trunk. 

“Surprisingly, yes,” you answered, hiding the smile on your face. 

She drawled out a teasing ‘ooh,’ poking your arm lightly with her index finger as you shied away and leaned deeper into your trunk. She was the only one who you willingly admitted your crush to as she was the only person you really trusted to not blather it off to someone.

“Will I be seeing you two in the Slytherin common room?” She wiggled her eyebrows. “The boys are throwing a party and I luckily got an invite, you know how they are. So picky with who shows up.”

“You mean they’re pretentious?” You laugh. “But I don’t know if we’ll be going to it. I know Draco obviously got invited but I was thinking we could do other things.”

“Like what?” She questions as if she knew it was going to be something dirty. “I know a few secret spots around the castle-”

“No, get your mind out of the gutter,” you smack her arm lightly. “I honestly have no clue what to do. I didn’t think he’d actually agree because he never does.”

She runs her hands over her face, stifling her laughs of disbelief before she sighed loudly. “I still suggest some broom closets, hidden out of sight.”

You sit up, pushing her from where she was lying while she laughed amusingly at your false horrified reaction that you put on to hide the fact from her that what she was suggestion really was what you wanted. 

“I’ll leave you alone so you can get your costume on,” she smiles, jumping up from your bed and tossing one of your pillows at you as she walked away. You let out a huff, tossing it back onto your duvet before setting your costume down on the spot your friend was lying in.

You stared at it hesitantly, all of a sudden feeling nauseous at the thought of going out later with Draco as if it was some sort of date even though you knew it wasn’t. It was just two friends, hanging out, doing some spooky and fun Halloween activities together and nothing more; so why were you feeling so nervous? You weren’t sure if it was your instincts warning you of something major that was approaching or the fear that what you didn’t have planned was going to bite you in the arse when you continuously told Draco he was going to enjoy himself when you didn’t even know if that was going to be true. You didn’t want to disappoint him and mess it up for you in the future when the holiday came again and you didn’t want this to be the first and last time you experienced it with him. 

The pressure was raining down on you like thick, hard pieces of hail with no end in sight.

As you were getting dressed and doing your makeup for your costume as you liked, (i’m trying to be vague for your own imagination teehee) all you could think about was what in the hell you were going to do once you met up with the Prince of Slytherin. Your train of thought was then derailed into wondering what he was going to be dressed up as or if he was going to be dressed up at all considering the way he is. He was the type to make fun of people who dressed up, that you knew when you ran into him last year as you were walking back to your common room with your friend, both of you in costume and victims of his gentle bullying. He obviously went easier on the two of you since you were there, telling you he was just messing around afterwards and saying he liked yours but once you were out of his sight but still in ear-shot, you heard him and his two minions berating a small group of people that unfortunately passed by them. 

You gave yourself one last look in the floor mirror, letting out a long shaky exhale with your hands clasped together before you started towards the way out of your dorm, through the common room, and ultimately towards the foyer outside the Great Hall where Draco was most likely waiting for you. An hour had gone by since you last saw him, an hour of stress and panic that hadn’t slowed down or stopped.

Your shoes dragged against the stone floors, hugging yourself tightly as you walked nearer towards the spot where you were supposed to meet and as you lifted your gaze - you saw him there, staring right at you with a small grin and just like you expected, no costume.

“Nice costume,” he compliments when you reach him. 

“Where’s yours?” You frown.

“I’m not dressing up. That’s embarrassing,” he shakes his head. 

You scoff, crossing your arms. “You’re the only one not dressed up, that’s embarrassing.”

You don’t know why it was irritating to you that he wasn’t in costume, even if you knew he wasn’t. You figured it was because you were trying to overpower your nervousness with different more consuming feelings, and much to your and Draco’s dismay, it worked. 

You weren’t nervous anymore, just irked.

“I’m staying like this, take it or leave it.”

You rolled your eyes, staring him down and hoping that he would change his mind but he wouldn’t. He was ridiculously stubborn.

In the heat of the moment of a fleeting thought, you decided that if he wasn’t going to be in costume, you would put him in one or at least a hint of one. You pulled your wand out, pointing it onto his striking white hair and with one easy spell, his hair was now a flaming vibrant red.

“Y/N!” He growled, running towards the closest thing that would show off his reflection where he let out a string of frantic curse words. “I look like a bloody Weasley.”

Your laughter caught him off guard, the sound ringing in his ears like music that spread warmth throughout him. You were clutching at your stomach with one hand and pointing at him with the other, giggling wildly at the sight of him with hair that did not suit him at all. He smiled to himself, your glee rubbing off on him abruptly that ate away quickly at his anger.

“You should’ve given me some ratty old hand-me-down robes and I’d look just like Ron,” he notes.

“That’s rude, Draco,” you say still laughing. He smirks, leaving the shiny statue of a knight in armor where he was checking his reflection and back over to you where you were still stuck in between doubling over in laughter and watching him. 

“I’m glad this is funny to you,” he muses. He begins digging into the pocket of his dress pants, taking your vulnerability as a chance for him to tap his wand to the top of your head and before you could react, your whole hair had turned a deep green.

Your laughter immediately ended as you ran towards the suit of armor, your grimacing reflection staring back at you with deep Slytherin green hair and a distorted Draco behind you doubling over just like you were moments ago.

“This looks,” you couldn’t even finish your sentence, the scowl on your face saying enough for you as you turned bitterly towards Draco. 

“Great?” He suggested, his guffawing subsiding into airy chuckles as you stood in front of him. Yours picked up again as you stared up at him, his striking bright red hair looking terribly unfamiliar on him. He was looking down at you, his heart jumping at the sight of you holding back your laughter. “You really do look dashing by the way.”

You swallowed thickly, thankful for the darkness that had settled around the castle and easily hid the scarlet brush appearing on your face. “But my hair is green.”

“Green is my favorite color.”

You opened your mouth to speak, your stomach and heart dropping simultaneously as your mind went completely blank. You pretended to not notice how he took a step closer to you to where he was almost fully against you and he pretended not to notice the way your lips were parted and how your chest was rising and falling a little too heavily as if you were nervous. It was game over for you when his gaze flickered down towards your lips and then back to your eyes, his head leaning down just the slightest like if he were waiting for you to meet him halfway. You were about to get closer to him, about to let your eyes close and give in to what you believed was him wanting to kiss you - but the world had other plans.

“Malfoy! There you are!” Someone boomed, clambering up the steps from the direction of the dungeons. You both jumped away from each other, your attention diverted to the Slytherin boy that interrupted the moment. “Malfoy come on, the party! And you can bring her too.”

You frowned when the boy came up to the two of you, clearly tipsy, dressed as a stereotypical vampire, and over-excited with the fact that Draco was out and willing to participate in Halloween festivities. It seemed like it bothered the now red-head when he looked to you and then back to the Slytherin boy with an apprehensive expression.

The boy, sensing the pause in the air, grabbed onto both you and Draco’s arms and started dragging the two of you towards the Slytherin common room where although the stone walls were thick, the sound of people celebrating inside were easily slipping past the stone slabs. He spoke the password out quickly and as soon as the entrance was open, you were both shoved inside into what looked like the largest party you had ever witnessed in all your years at Hogwarts. It was packed and filled with what looked like half of the school, or at least a huge majority of fifth-years and up. It was loud with music booming from a brand new wizarding-world radio in the middle of the room currently playing a song from the Weird Sisters. It smelled like a mixture of everyone’s perfumes and colognes and like firewhisky. The boy that pushed you two inside quickly passed you two cups of the very potent firewhisky before downing the third one he had in his hand and disappeared into the crowd while screaming for you to enjoy yourselves.

You both stood awkwardly away from the big and rowdy crowd, your drink clenched tightly in your hand against your chest and Draco swishing his around while it was still in the cup.

He wanted to up and run, thinking that someone was going to make a comment about his hair or about him being there, but no one seemed to pay attention to him or that he was there and in a way, he felt relieved by it and less tense by the second. 

“How in the bloody hell did we end up here?” You yelled over the music, putting a hand over his arm that was holding his drink up. You didn’t mean to, but you were glad you did because he glanced down at the contact with a small smile before looking back up to you.

“We got dragged here, remember!” He yelled back. 

“What?” 

“We got dragged here!”

“I can’t hear you!”

He rolled his eyes, bending down towards your ear to repeat himself one last time before you finally heard him over the mayhem around you.

“This is crazy!” You looked around the room, the sight of all the bodies and recklessness being too much as they were all more than likely drunk and oblivious to how stuffy and suffocating the room was becoming.

You looked down at the golden brown liquid sloshing around in your cup, wondering whether or not you should take it, but with the nervousness you felt coming back, it didn’t take you much longer to decide to down your cup and allow the liquid courage to seep into your veins. Draco watched you with amusement, chuckling to himself when you scrunched up your face in disgust from the burn he knew it caused as it went down your throat. He shook his head, deciding to drink his too and it was only minutes that passed before the drink was quickly becoming apparent in your systems. There was something about Firewhisky that always made its mark promptly and it really was courage in a bottle that you were glad was available to you in that moment because you were sure that in just a few minutes you were close to fainting.

You were beginning to sway faintly to the music, the rhythm sounding more loud but distant and more invigorating. You didn’t care anymore if anyone was watching or that Draco was observing you curiously just as he was beginning to lose all sense of holding himself back. He was inching closer to you, his head moving slightly to beat of the song and pure joy etched onto his features when your eyes met his.

“I keep forgetting I turned your hair red!” You yelled up to him, laughing loudly when he ran his hand through it. In your moment of confidence, you reached up and lightly ran your fingers over one of the front pieces hanging over his forehead. He didn’t stop you, his heart hammering against his chest from the drink and his overwhelming crush that was clouding all his senses. “Your hair is so soft!” 

He wanted to pin you up against the wall right then and there. You were peering up at him, just as you were before you were dragged inside by one of his Housemates and as soon as he was about to kiss you. 

“Do you want to get out of here?” He knew to bend down this time for you to hear him to which you responded with a fervent nod. You took his hand in yours, pulling him towards the exit of the common room and he let you lead him into the coldness of the dungeons that bit at his cheeks. It was a stark difference from the warmth inside, the crisp October air being more chilled than what either of you were expecting. It felt nice against your flushed skin and easier to breathe, especially once after the common room closed again and you could hear was muffled talking and music.

Neither of you were drunk and were still aware of pretty much everything, mostly the feelings stirring inside you both that was begging either of you to make a move towards the other. You were just a tad tipsy, and so was he, but it was enough for you to still enjoy the night without the initial awkwardness that oddly settled in between you. It was weird, considering how open and talkative you usually were with each other but there was something about the evening that made it feel like if you didn’t know each other.

“What now?” He asked you with a raised brow, his hand slipping into his pocket.

You smiled, an idea coming to your head that you knew he would love and you didn’t mind doing in the name of Halloween. “Do you want to go mess with people?”

He stared at you with widened eyes, “bloody hell, I love you.”

There was nothing that could have prepared you for his response, your own eyes widening in shock as you stared at him. He felt his face get hot in embarrassment, Merlin, he felt so stupid. He was mentally smacking himself in the head, desperately wishing he could bury himself seven feet under the Earth and staying there until the end of time.

He was about to play off what he said in a joking way, but for the second time that night he was interrupted by a couple that stumbled out of the common room drunkenly snogging each other’s faces off and wholly oblivious to you and Draco standing there in lingering panic. You jumped back into his arms when the couple staggered past you, almost knocking you over in the process of their makeout session and it annoyed you beyond belief. It annoyed you that they were in your way, annoyed that they interrupted you, annoyed that it wasn’t you in their position with the one you wanted. 

You dug your wand out of your pocket, flicking it their way as they rolled onto the wall, still in each other’s hold until the hex that flew from your wand hit the boy causing him to stagger back from the girl and holding his nose in pain. You heard Draco laugh from behind you when bats began to fly out from the boy’s nostrils while the girl screamed and ran away from one of the bats that swept down onto her head. The bats flew out of the dungeon and up the stairs with the boy struggling loudly the whole way up until his panicked screams were no longer heard.

“That was a perfect bat-bogey,” he looks at you proudly. “I feel bad for that poor bloke’s nose.”

“Thank you, thank you,” you bowed jokingly. 

When the sound of the door opened again, you both ran to hide behind a long drape against the wall that didn’t hide your shoes very well and pressed up against your bodies that’s shapes were no doubt visible from the opposite side.

You heard footsteps trail haphazardly down the corridor, their back seemingly facing you and as you both peeked your heads out from behind the drape, Draco nodded towards the boy and pointed his wand towards him. 

“Slugulus Eructo,” you heard him whisper and a stream of green light from his wand hit the back of the boy’s head and as he turned around in surprise while doubling over in pain, his hand clamped tightly over his mouth as slugs began to slip past the spaces between his fingers. When he stood up to run away, you noticed it was the same boy from earlier that stopped you two from the almost kiss and dragged you to the party. You let out a string of giggles as he ran away just like your last victims.

“This is so mean,” you chortle, leaning into him from behind the drape in an attempt to get closer to him. You were feeling bolder when he beamed down at you, feeling happy knowing that although the night was still young, he was having fun. “Thank you for coming with me tonight, I know you don’t like Halloween.” You say quietly.

“You finally convinced me, it’s not that bad,” he grins.

“Why’d you hate it in the first place?”

The question seemed to strike a nerve but the Firewhisky still flowing freely in his veins tore away easily at his defenses so instead of avoiding your question entirely like he usually would, he frowned and let his guard down.

“I don’t hate it,” he answers apprehensively. “My father never let me celebrate it. He never let me dress up. He told me respectable wizards don’t partake in holidays like these.”

His pout made your gut twist in sympathy, your hand instinctively going into his as you squeezed it reassuringly. “It’s never too late to start celebrating. Besides, I don’t see him here stopping you.”

He smiled for what felt like the hundredth time that night, his stained-red hair falling over his eyes as he looked down to his shoes.

“You have a point, darling.”

The door of the common room opened again and what you suspected to be another snogging couple to stumble out from the sound of heavy breathing and multiple shoes scuffling about was something completely different.

“Glad Malfoy stayed with someone else today.” It was Crabbe.

“Yeah, he never lets us go to these parties,” Goyle responds. “Go ahead and thank Y/L/N for freeing us, he fancies her like a fool.”

“Reckon we should go look for them?”

You figured Goyle nodded to him like the blathering idiot he was because in a few short seconds they were running away up the same steps everyone else had. 

You peered up slowly at Draco who was already gaping at you like a deer in headlights. He opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. The gears in your brain were spinning wildly with happiness, the gossip hopefully being proven true when he didn’t try to deny it. You didn’t realize how close his face was to yours, cheeks tinged with pink from both the firewhisky and sudden shyness and his warm cinnamon breath fanning your face as he looked down at you.

“I can explain,” he finally said.

He didn’t need to; you placed your hands gently on his cheeks, pulling him impossibly closer to you and pressing your lips against his, catching him completely by surprise. His eyes were wide at first, his body rigid and his lips unmoving, but once it finally clicked that this was real and no longer a fantasy that played like a broken record in his head, his lips moved fervently against yours with the rest of his body following. His hands gripped your hips tightly, his fingers squeezing at the hem of your bottoms and his body pushing even further into yours.

Your bottom lip caught lightly in between his teeth as you reluctantly pulled away from him, the both of you breathing raggedly as you searched each other’s eyes.

“I feel the same,” you said softly. “Happy Halloween.”

He smashes his lips hungrily against yours again, his ego growing with each gasp of a delight that escapes your mouth as your hands roamed and tangled themselves into his magically colored strands.

“Very...happy...halloween,” he mutters against your lips in between kisses, a dazy smile adorning your face while he tightened his arms around you.

You just couldn’t wait until next year.

[mackeydoodledoo]

The Fifth Lord: Chapter 6

Pairing: Alcina Dimitrescu and (Fem!Dragon)Reader [non-romantic], Bela Dimitrescu x (Fem!Dragon)Reader

Summary: Your name is Y/n Dracul; The only ‘mutant’ that doesn’t have the Cadou Parasite. You already have some sort of power that impressed Mother Miranda; you were the first known Human-Dragon Hybrid. Although you have your own house, “House Dracul”. Your ‘house’ itself is basically an unused wing of Castle Dimitrescu.

Warnings: Heartbreak, sadness, game spoilers [I’m sure everyone has watched or played Village]

A/N: So, Shit’s about to go down here!

“Three Dragon Slayers” - Yasaharu Takanashi [Play this when Y/n says: “You’re wrong Miranda.”]

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

As you watch Heisenberg lose to Ethan Winters. You had the moment of realization that you were truly alone; The Last Lord standing. However, it didn't hit you as hard as it did when Ethan killed Alcina and her daughters. You decided to find Duke so you left, flying about until your wings got sore from the cold.

"Lord Dracul," The Duke calls out to you

You look up and see him, "Duke... I need you to give me Lady Bela's remains..."

"I’m afraid that comes at a high price my lord," he sighs, "However since you are a lord and she is your love..."

He reaches back into his carries and lugs out a Crystal Torso. You look down and notice Bela's fly squirming around.

It's Bela's scent....

You immediately reach for the torso and let it fall into you.

"Thank you Duke," you say, calmly

"What is your plan Lord Dracul?" He asks

You stop in your tracks and turn your head, your mouth visible to Duke. 

"Paying Mother Miranda a visit," you say, more sternly, "Someone's gotta pay..."

You make your way to the bridge and you set down Bela’s torso. You take off your jacket and place it around the torso. Bela’s fly peeks its hear out from your inside pocket.

“You’ll be okay,” You gently pat the fly, “You’ll be warm. Keep your body safe until I return for the both of you okay?”

The fly submerges itself into the sherpa-lined inside pocket.

“You have your body back...” You slightly smile

However, right as you stand up, you meet Ethan. Who cocks his gun at you.

“Listen,” You sigh, “If I help you get your daughter, you help me kill Miranda...”

“I-I thought you were on her side?” He asks

“Not really,” You say, looking across the bridge, “Though it was true she did spare me. But it was Dimitrescu who had raised me. I only trust her and her daughters. But with what you did- I’ll let it slide this once.”

You almost got your vengeful self get the best of you but you knew he was the only one who could wound Miranda enough for you.

“Deal,” He says

“One condition,” You add, “If I ever see you step foot into the castle again I cannot guarantee that I won’t kill you.”

He nods at your condition. The both of you walk across the bridge where you are met with some of the ghouls Miranda had reanimated to keep the both of you stalled. 

“Go forward,” You tell him, “I’ll keep these fools busy...”

You press your palm against his back and push him forward as your fists begin setting aflame. 

“I’ll meet you there!” You yell at him

“Thank you, Lord Dracul!” He says, referring to you for the first time

You smirk at his gratitude. But, you notice some ghouls beginning to reach Ethan before he could walk through Miranda’s vines. 

“Oh no you don’t!” You roar, breathing fire

It felt like grueling work when you finished off the ghouls. You manage to blast through to them however, a bunch of them guarding the entrance.

“You guys don’t know when o give up huh?” You ask them

You squat down, your feet beginning to create two circles of fire. They began growing to for around your body. You sprung your legs to give yourself a propelled launch, singeing the reanimated ghouls.

“MIRANDA!!!” You scream, your fist setting aflame once more

You used the fire emitting from your feet in an attempt to send a painful punch to Miranda’s face. However, in that attempted punch, Miranda catches it.

“I thought you were killed in the Castle” Miranda taunts you

“You were mistaken,” You growl, “I’m going to make you pay for what you did to my family...”

“‘Family’?” Miranda laughs at your comment, “You’re saying- that tall vampire woman and her three rabid children are your family?”

Both of your fists ignite and you roar. You fly over to her and again try to punch her for what she told you.

“They raised me!” You scream, “They gave me what you did not!” 

“And what is that?” She asks, still trying to taunt you, “They were nothing but pawns to my entire plan. They never loved you.”

That’s not true...

You and Miranda stop fighting and look around.

Alcina?!

Miranda punches your gut and you let out a pained grunt. You clench at your gut and stagger back.

“Agh!” You cough out blood 

You suddenly feel four different palms against your back.

We got you love.

Bela?...

Kick her ass for us!

Daniela?

Make her pay!

Cassandra?...

You smile, for the first time in hours, you smiled genuinely.

“You’re wrong Miranda,” You say, a circle of fire forms from your feet up, “They gave me the family I never had. They’ve shown me... Even as part monster, they’ve shown me love. You? You gave me nothing...”

Your eyes spark fire in their reflections once more and you launch yourself at her. Your first emits more fire than the last time. Miranda once more catches it in her palm, but she was struggling to hold it back. You could feel the shakiness in her arm as you try to punch her with more force than the last.

“This-this is betrayal!” Mother Miranda yells, trying to hold back one of your flamed fists, “I am the Black God! My power is immeasurable compared to yours! You are a weak dragon!”

You smirk, “Is that so?”

Your entire body begins setting aflame, a bigger one than you could ever emit, “Then I’ll just have to prove you wrong right now! Let’s see how much of a ‘god’ you really are shall we!?”

You yank your fist away from Miranda’s grasp. Before she could send you a punch out of fight or flight instinct, you simply catch it and hold it in a single hand. Unlike Miranda, whose arm was shaking as she tried to hold out your punch, you stand there; solid as a rock. No movement in your body what so ever.

“This cannot be!” She yells at you, “I am far more superior in power than you could ever be! This is the power I used to control all of you!!”

“Didn’t you forget?” You ask Miranda, “You didn’t experiment on me! You have no control over me!”

“Alcina and her daughter Bela do!” She tries to taunt you again

“You keep their names out of your mouth!” You snarl

You foot turns ablaze and you try to leg swoop her. She blocks your foot with slight ease and throws you back. You’re thrown into a tree trunk and you fall onto the ground; chest first. You wheeze out for air as you struggle to stand up again.

“My power is complete y/n!” She tries to intimidate you, “This is the power I will use to kill you since you no longer serve any purpose to me!”

You force yourself to stand up and you begin walking towards her, slowly and menacingly.

“Well then,” You start, smirking and setting your entire body ablaze, “I’ll use my power to fight for my family that you killed!” 

You dragon roar, breathing fire. You roll dive when Miranda uses her other clawed hand as a spear in an attempt to impale you. You breathe fire once more, setting fire to one of her arms. 

“You’ll pay for killing the people I’ve ever loved!” You scream, “The only ones who accepted me as I am; The Devil’s Dragon!”

“I should have infected you with my parasite!” She says, regretfully, “I should have had you brainwashed when I gave you a second chance!”

“You did give me a second chance, you are right about that,’“ You say, “But- it was Alcina who had raised me as I am... Bela was the one who loved me as I am... Cassandra and Daniela never saw me as a monster! Unlike you?... You used all of us! I’ll never forgive you for using them!”

Your roar was loud enough to shake the ground.

“Fire Dragon’s Art! Exploding Flame Edge!” You yell, your fire turning into spiked strings of fire, beginning at your clenched fists

You whip them around and it creates an exploding edge. You let them settle around Miranda as she begins being set ablaze. You listen to her scream in agony as she begins to crystalize. 

“You- Betrayed the lords!” She yells

“I’m the last lord standing!” You scream

She lets out one final scream in an attempt to get you however she only crystallizes. You let out a cough of smoke. You sigh in relief but clench at your stomach.

“Damnit...” You growl, noticing blood seeping through your shirt and the feeling of your shirt sticking to your body

You turn around and notice another man, his gun pointed at you. You were prepared to fight him too before Ethan grunts.

“Let her go Chris...” Ethan wheezes for air, “She helped..”

Chris places his gun back in his holster.

“Fine, we have to get you and Rose out of here,” He says, forcing Ethan to stand, “I’ve planted a bomb nearby. It shouldn’t blow the castle. I’d suggest you get back there as soon as possible because when I pull this trigger-”

Chris holds up a detonation device to show you, “This place is going to blow. But- I thought you were working for Miranda.”

“Things change when she kills the family that accepts me as I am,” You explain, “Good luck you two.”

You nod to Chris as you didn’t want to stick around to find out how the device worked. You begin flying back across the bridge to get Bela’s remains and go home. However, with one last effort, Miranda pierces and rips a small slit in your wings. Making you stagger fly a lot worse compared to when Ethan had shot a hole into the same wing tissue. Miraculously, you crash landed right in front of the torso. You immediately wrap your jacket in it and warm it as you begin running into the direction of the Castle.

“Lord Dracul!” Duke calls out for you, “Into my carriage!”

You practically dive into the back of his carriage and he begins motioning for his horse to ride back to the castle. It was a bumpy ride however, you still held onto the torso for dear life, not willing to let it go. Even though you were the one getting tossed around.

“My Lord, are you alright back there?” He asks

“As well as I can be,” You groan from the bumpy ride

“My apologies My Lord,” He says, “I didn’t want to get caught up in that explosion there.”

“Yeah, me neither,” You sigh, “Hey, how long until we’re at the castle?”

“Almost there my lord,” He answers

As you wait for him to tell you that the both of you had arrived, you peek into your inside jacket pocket. Sighing in relief when you see Bela’s fly peeking back up at you. 

“You’re safe,” You smile, tearing up, “Thank god...”

You pet its head as it tries to snuggle into your warm finger. You and the fly continue fueling each others’ comfort until you felt the carriage stop.

“We’ve arrived my lord,” Duke calls to you

Chapter 7

[falcor-thee-luck-dragon]

Love Cuts Deep

Chapter 12- Whatever It Takes

Summary: This is it, you’re finally going to help save the world and if all goes to plan, bring Bucky back in the process.

Warning: bit o angst

Masterlist

It’s been a solid month since Tony and Rocket have been crafting tirelessly on the construction of the giant time portal machine type deal, or whatever he’s calling it nowadays. And to your great surprise, as well as everyone else’s, the first test run with Clint was an undeniable success.

Compared to the first one with Scott, things have come a long way.

Clint was able to wander around in that alternate universe for a couple minutes without returning with so much as a single scratch. Thus boosting the teams confidence and excitement for the inevitable time heist that’s in the works. So as of now, everyone’s currently brainstorming as to how this will go about for the most successful mission possible.

“Okay, so the how works.” Begins Steve as everyone sits around the large meeting room, glass screens projecting info about the stones displayed in the background, “Now, we gotta figure out the when and where. Almost everyone in this room has had an encounter with at least one of the six Infinity Stones...”

Tony cuts in with his spout of knowledge, “Or substitute the word “encounter” for “damn near been killed” by one of the six Infinity Stones.” Damn straight, your ass got launched into a Wakandian tree last you saw those goddamn stones.

“Well I haven’t..” Interjects Scott with a puzzled look, confusion clear in his voice, “..but I don’t even know what the hell you’re all talking about.” Oh right, he missed out on all the fun while he was fucking around in the quantum realm.

Sitting on the table you shrug, “Be glad you’ve never seen them, those fucking space rocks will kick your ass if used less then kindly, but it doesn’t matter now. From my understanding we only have enough Pym Particles for one round-trip each.” You explain as they all listen intently, “And clearly these fucking stones have been in a lot of different places throughout history.”

Tony nods, “Our history. So, not a lot of convenient spots to just drop in, yeah?”

“Which means we have to pick out targets.” Adds Clint as Tony points in his direction, “Correct.”

Steve soon gains everyone’s attention once again, “So, let’s start with the Aether. Thor, what do you know?” Asks the blonde, all eyes turn towards the back corner of the room to find Thor slouched in an armchair, beer can in hand while the other one keeps partially hidden in his pajama pants.

A dark pair of sunglasses conceals whether he’s currently awake or not. “Is he asleep?” Wonders Natasha as Rodney humorously adds, “No, no. I’m pretty sure he’s dead.”

A few soft chuckles are heard as you listen intently to the god of thunder, “He’s alive, and most definitely sleeping off that last beer.” You muse as they all give a collective curious brow while you simply shrug, “I can hear his heartbeat, and it’s low enough to tell me he’s not dead.....Well, at least not yet.” You mutter, eyeing up the sleeping giant as an idea sparks into your head.

A second later you pick up a discarded empty beer can sitting right next to you on the table before throwing it at the snoozing god, the thin metal smacks against his forehead with that familiar pop of the can sound, falling to the ground with a crackly ting as Thor jolts awake. And back to the land of the living.

“Nordic Santa you’re up.” His head snaps in your direction as he gives a semi-awkward half grin. 

“Ah right, right, thank you angry one.” Points Thor with a genuine smile now as he quickly gets up before walking over to the screen depicting the red swirly like stone substance. Although soon he delves into the finding of the red mass, what it did to his former flame, that he took her to Asgard seeking help for her sickness, how he showed Jane to his mother, and then he immediately got sad and lost all motivation and train of thought on anything related to that stone.

Ah yes, personal trauma. It’ll do that to you.

Later that day when everyone was feasting on some Chinese takeout, Rocket began an in-depth explanation into where the Power Stone was found; by some guy named Quill who stole it from a planet called Morag. After some time later, Nebula revealed that the Soul Stone was retrieved from Vormir, the place where Thanos murdered her sister Gamora.

It’s been an interesting day to day the least.

Now here you are, slouched comfortably in a lounge chair you stole from the other room, flipping around a pocketknife as Natasha and Tony lay on the nearby table with Bruce sprawled out on the floor in all his Banner-Hulkness. Books scattered everywhere as the two Avengers keep comfortable on some decorative couch pillows as you listen to them brainstorm about the stones whereabouts.

Flipping the knife skillfully between your fingers an idea suddenly pops into your head, “Hey what about that time stone guy you were talking about earlier.”

Banner hums, “Doctor Strange.”

“Yeah, what kind of doctor was he?” Wonders Natasha as you mentally question the same proposition when Tony gives his quick witted answer. “Ear-nose-throat meets rabbit-from-hat.”

“Nice place in the Village, though.” Adds Bruce, Tony agreeing in an instant. “Yeah, on Sullivan Street?”

“Mmm....Bleecker Street.” Mutters Banner as Natasha interrupts, face shifting to realization. “Wait, he lived in New York?”

“No, he lived in Toronto.” Sasses Tony as Banner reveals the truth. “Uh, yeah, on Bleecker and Sullivan.”

Tony coming back with more playful sarcasm, “Have you been listening to anything?”

Suddenly it feels like a lights been switched on in your brain, “Guys.” You quickly implore as they keep silent to listen, “If you pick the right year, wouldn’t there be three stones in New York?” Their faces all collectively shift to astonished realization when Bruce quickly sits up to look at you. “Shut the front door.”

“Well at least someone is paying attention.” Quips Tony as Natasha smacks him with a book.

——

“All right.” Begins Steve as the whole team gathers in the meeting room, “We have a plan. Six stones, three teams, one shot.”

You nod, smirking with excitement, “Let’s get these fuckers and maybe end up saving the world while we’re at it.” He sends you a proud grin and within the next half an hour are the eleven of you suited up and standing in a large circle atop the glass of the giant time portal.

“Five years ago, we lost. All of us....we lost friends. We lost family. We lost a part of ourselves. Today, we have a chance to take it all back. You know your teams. You know your missions. Get the stones. Get them back. One round-trip each. No mistakes....no do-overs.”

“Most of us are going somewhere we know. That doesn’t mean we should know what to expect. Be careful. Look out for each other. This is the fight of our lives...and we’re gonna win.” Affirms Steve with a mutual nod, “Whatever it takes.” He gives one last look around the circle of familiar faces before nodding, “Good luck.”

Nudging the muscular blonde, he shares a small smile with you as you quickly return it, “You practice that last night?” Steve chuckles at your amusing comment while Rocket and Scott gush over his admittedly incredible motivational speech skills.

“Just thought the team could use the confidence boost.” Admits Steve as Bruce flicks the motherboards switches to get the time portal up and running. The machine whirs to life while everyone begins putting on their helmets.

Your slightly apprehensive gaze trails to your left where Natasha is standing, she gives a playful smirk as you force a true smile, “See you in a minute.” Chides the red head as you break out into a smirk.

“будь осторожен там Romanoff.” You add, shifting into your natural dialect that she’s all to familiar with, your actual words translating to “be careful out there” as you give her one last flash of a grin.

A hot second later, your body shrinks to the size of an atom as you feel like you’re entire body is free falling out of an airplane in some strange rainbow colored portal that shifts to shimmering diamonds and then finally a blue coral type texture as you find your teams designed route down some swirling tube of blues and bright white lights until at last you land in...

“Holy shit look at this place.” You mutter in absolute awe at the large golden pillars of Asgard, there was no fucking way you were missing out on traveling to this realm. And anyways, Steve kinda made it your task to keep the potbellied god of thunder in check as yourself and Rocket attempt to locate the Reality Stone with Lebowski as your generous tour guide.

Thor smiles fondly, proudly beaming at you with a rare form of happiness as he points towards the large cavernous halls of the royal palace, “Oh this? Yeah, it’s neat isn’t it, I grew up here....played games down this very hallway actually. Me and some friends used to spar one another as children down here with wooden sticks that looked like swor...”

“Thor.” Interrupts Rocket with an annoyed huff, “Remember why we’re actually here.”

You nod in agreement, quickly remembering the current mission, “He’s right. No time to dwell on fond memories, we need to find that stone before anyone sees us. And going by the logic of literally every time traveling movie I’ve ever seen, which admittedly isn’t a lot, but it’s enough that I know no one can see us. Especially you Thor, that would be a big problem for this timeline, so lead the way.”

“Yes, right on that, good point Y/N....okay um...” He looks around for a moment before pointing in the direction of choice, which is down a long spacious hallway, “This way, no ones gonna see us if we go by the dungeons.” Explains Thor as he quickly leads the way down the obnoxiously long hallway that thankfully is decently vacant.

After about five minutes of trekking around the castles interior, Thor guides you and Rocket down a long stairwell of dark grey stone until you reach the bottom floor. There are large basins of fire lighting the way down the lengthy hallway pass, he jogs past a couple golden tinged cells holding a few odd looking prisoners on your way out.

No doubt these fuckers look like they deserve it.

You pay them no mind as Thor hustles silently across the flooring to a door on the far end, though as you’re shuffling past another cell, your eyes land on the green and black clad slender body of a dark haired man laying atop his bed. Face focused towards the white ceiling as he tosses a cylindrical piece of metal in a repeated rhythm only done by that of an incredibly bored individual.

That must be his brother Loki, you draw into conclusion while racing out of sight of the trickster god while Rocket makes haste by your side. Kind of handsome, you think as an unknowing smile finds itself onto your face. God Y/N you truly are a desperate woman. No, just no.

Eventually, Thor leads your little team of three upstairs to some large balcony type area with a grand view of Asgard, the three of you keeping hidden behind one of the multitude of intricately decorated pillars as he eyes up a woman halfway out of a giant door while she accepts some clothing from a maid.

His bearded face lights up in joy as he points a finger towards the brunette woman, “Oh, there’s Jane.” Whispers Thor as she closes the door, the Asgardian maiden leaving and walking elsewhere down another yawning chamber.

“All right.” Starts Rocket as he stands on some ancient rock covered in unknown hieroglyphics before jumping down to face the two of you once the coast is clear, “Here’s the deal tubby. You’re gonna charm her, Y/N’s gonna keep watch, and I’m gonna poke her with this thing..” He shows some strange metal device with three silver prongs sticking out of it, “...and extract the Reality Stone, and get gone lickety-split.”

The optimism off of this creature never fails to astound you.

“Yeah, what he said.” You add with a shrug in Rocket’s direction as Thor sniffs before raising up a finger. “I’ll be right back, okay? The wine cellar is just down here...” Interjects Thor as he slowly begins walking away, clearly ready to abandon his part in the mission, “My father used to have this huge barrel of Aakonian ale. I’ll see if the scullery has a couple of to-go cups.”

“Hey. Hey!” You whisper yell, causing him to stop for the moment, “Aren’t you drunk enough already? Fuck that fancy wine we got better things to do.” You urgently vouch just as some doors loudly open nearby, immediately the three of you hide behind the stone of hieroglyphics and watch as a long haired woman leads the way, a multitude of servants in her wake as she says something about giving books to Loki from the library.

“Who’s the fancy broad?” Wonders Rocket as you raise an intrigued brow at Thor, his eyes never once leave the woman’s as he takes a steady breath, “That’s my mother.” Reveals the disheartened god, a sudden sadness lacing his very words that does not go unnoticed by you, “She dies today.”

Your breath catches in your throat at this sudden tragic news of great loss, you remember when you lost your own mother by the filthy hands of Hydra and how they helped you quickly forget about her. You didn’t have anytime to grieve or even question her sudden disappearance for that matter, “Oh, shit...that’s today.”

You share a nervous look with Rocket as Thor begins taking some deep almost panicked breaths, his emotions all rising together like a swelling storm as his face shifts to an afflicted pain, “I can’t do this. I can’t do this....” Rambles Thor with a shake of his blonde mane, eyes displaying panic, “..I shouldn’t be here. I shouldn’t have come. It’s a bad idea!” Whisper yells Thor as he anxiously shifts from one foot to the other.

“Come here.” Beacons Rocket from his perch on the rock.

“No, no, no...” Deviates Thor as he waves his hands nervously in the air like he’s trying to flick some mud off of them, “I think I’m having a panic attack.” Worries the flushed faced god. 

“Come here. Right here.” Says Rocket as he points to the rock, an increase in irritation shifting the tone of his voice while Thor breaths heavily, clearly not on board with whatever Rocket’s going to tell him.

“No, no, no, guys I can’t...I can’t do this, I’m sorry but I’m not ready, I can’t...” Thwack, Thor yelps in surprise at your intentionally weak assault on his large bicep, “Y/N what was that for?” He half-offendedly demands, brows furrowed in confusion at the flash of anger racing across your sour glare.

“You think you’re the only one who lost people?” You snap as he lowers his head like a beaten dog, “What the fuck do you think we’re doing here? I lost the only person I ever loved, Rocket lost his whole family, gone, just like that.” You affirm with a snap of your fingers.

His face grows conflicted as you suddenly lose your heated aurora, face falling into a frown as you place a comforting hand upon his shoulder, “Thor, I know it hurts that you lost your mom...believe me I get it, but she’s gone. And there are plenty of people who are only kinda gone, and you can help them.”

Thor nods apprehensively as you share a small smile with him, “So if it’s not too much to ask, can you get your shit together for the next however long this is going to take so we can save the world?” 

Rocket chuckles before gaining the both of yours attentions. “Agreed. Now all you gotta do is make schmoopy talk to Pretty Pants and when she’s not looking, suck out the Infinity Stone and help us get our family back. Aight?”

Thor nods once more, face twisting into a saddened pain a he looks down to the floor, “Okay.” Mumbles the god of thunder weakly, face reddening as his eyes get glossy. You let him take a breath as he avoids your gaze at all costs, eyes beginning to water while he tries to play it off.

Giving his shoulder a friendly squeeze, your brows furrow in puzzlement, “Are you crying?”

He shakes his head, some tears slipping despite his verbal protest, “No.” Mutters Thor weakly as his tearful gaze finally picks up to meet you, “Yes..” Squeaks out the teary eyed god while his eyes flicker from the far wall to your face once more, “...Y/N, I feel like I’m losing it. I don’t, I don’t know what I’m doing...I just feel so...shit I don’t know anymore.” Admits the fearful Asgardian as he avoids your softening yet slightly annoyed gaze.

oh, Thor you sad motherfucker. I’ve been there.

Rolling your eyes you gently shake his shoulder for emphasis, “Listen to me you big lion, get your shit together! You can do this. You’re the god of thunder for fucks sake, you can do this Thor.” His face turns into a surprisingly more confident expression as he huffs with a self-assured nod. “I can do this.”

“Yeah...I can do this.” Repeats the Asgardian with a sniffle.

Smirking, you give his arm a friendly smack, “Good. Now let’s do this and get the fuck out of here.” You add before swiftly turning on your heel as you and Rocket lead the way to the door, reaching it, the talking raccoon tugs on your leg before you get a chance to open it. “What is it now?”

“Y/N, we lost him.”

“What?!” Realizing Thor has indeed slipped away and out of sight, you clench your fists in irritation, “Goddammit.” You seethe before looking down at Rocket, “Whatever, we’ll find marshmallow fluff later, let’s just get this stupid rock.”

——

Racing down the palaces golden hallways, your boots thud against the stony ground as Rocket runs on all fours right behind you, “I almost hope they catch you!” You shout in between the yelling of the royal guards as they hastily pursue the two of you down the hallway.

“We got the stone didn’t we!” Snaps Rocket as you pick up your pace. 

“We gotta make it back first you dumbfuck!”

He grumbles something unintelligible before you follow the beer tinged scent of Thor into another room, he’s speaking with his mother when they quickly turn around, “Oh, uh, hello...uh, queen something.” You mutter before Rocket practically smacks into the back of your legs. “I got the thing. Come on. We gotta move.”

Thor nods, speaking some last final heartfelt goodbyes to his mother before abruptly stopping the countdown to three just so he can summon his hammer. After a couple lengthy seconds, Mjolnir falls right into his strong grasp causing Thor to laugh and smile in excitement. “I’m still worthy! I’m still worthy.”

Rocket shares a look with you, “Oh, boy.” Mumbles the raccoon as you simply roll your eyes at the bearded Asgardian prince. A moment later the three of you are sucked into the time portal once again before landing on the glass of the time portal machine.

“Did we get them all?” You hear Steve ask in wonder as you hold your stomach from the jostling ride back.

“I think I’m gonna throw up.” You mutter as Rodney smiles in excitement at everyone around him and the stones in their proximity. “Are you telling me this actually worked?”

Taking a deep breath to steady your turning stomach, all eyes turn to Clint as he suddenly falls to his knees, face a mask of saddened grief that sparks panic in your heart. “Clint, where’s Nat?” Questions Bruce as your face falls.

Not her, not Natasha too.

Standing solemnly on the Facility’s large dock with the teams main Avengers in various places close by, you lean against one of the thin steel beams, a deep frown on your lips while your fingers anxiously play with Bucky’s dog tags around your neck.

“Do we know if she had family?” Questions Tony to no on in particular.

Steve swallows thickly, a couple free tear stains falling down the side of his cheeks, “Yeah. Us.” Mutters the blonde gloomily as you bite your bottom lip to keep from crying again.

“What?” Wonders Thor almost in disbelief as Tony gives him a quizzical look, “Yeah, no, you guys are acting like she’s dead. Why are we acting like she’s dead? We have the stones, right? As long as we have the stones Cap, we can bring her back. Isn’t that right?” Adds Thor, glancing between all of you before facing Tony again, “So, stop this shit. We’re the Avengers. Get it together...”

“Can’t get her back.” Interrupts Clint dismally, eyes still set on the open water beyond the compound.

Thor’s brows furrow in befuddlement, “Wh-what...”

“It can’t be undone. It can’t.” Insists Clint, voice slightly wavering in despair; Thor then starts chuckling at the absurdity of the whole shitty situation before rambling about space magic and that there must be another way. Clint on the other hand quickly gets heated about this and promptly snaps at Thor about some red floaty guy he met who revealed once the Soul Stone is taken, the one sacrificed can never come back. Ever.

Soon things calmed down again, though still a rather gloomy atmosphere still lingers like a persistent hazy fog even after they all left, leaving no one but yourself and Steve on the dock. He keeps a steady gaze on the rippling water as he lets his sadness take its course, this is indeed a heavy blow to bear.

Letting out a shaky breath, you move from the leaning against the beam to instead find a spot next to him on the wooden bench. Dog tags still clutched in your fist as you steal a glance at the tearful man. You’ve admittedly never seen him so upset, well, you both may have shared a good cry when Bucky was whipped from existence five years ago. That was the first time you ever truly bonded with anyone from the team, the first time Steve and Natasha showed you their vulnerability. 

And for that, you’ve formed a stronger bond with them that you’d never thought possible. They welcomed you into the compound like an old friend, always treated you with respect and gave you room when you needed it. And even when you didn’t want to be around anyone, they still forced you into playing cards with them anyways, among other dumb games. Which annoyingly so, is what your sad little self needed back then.

 But without Natasha, without her beaming heart and fierce attitude to keep fighting through the unknown and murky waters, you’re not even sure if this would all still be conceivable. Or if you’d even still be here with all of them for that matter, you might have gone on an angry warpath just as Clint did when everyone he ever loved was snatched from him forever. 

So why, after all this time and pain, is she the one who had to go? It’s not fare. And your heart feels broken all over again; sniffling, you swallow thickly before turning your head a little in Steve’s direction, “I didn’t know her for as long as you guys did.....but she was, really the best of us..” You laugh dismally.

 Voice shaky as you hold Bucky’s tags close to your chest, “..If not better. She was the first Avenger I ever met you know, the only piece of my past that didn’t try to murder me on sight, actually. I liked her. She was who I needed to get me through my grief, among other things huh...and uh...I will miss her.....a lot.”

Nothing is heard except for the low rustling of the nearby trees as a soft wind blows into your faces, Steve clasps his hands together, turning to you, “Funnily enough, it took me some time to completely trust her, but now....there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for her.” Mutters Steve with the flash of a genuine smile as he thinks fondly on Natasha, who you wish more then anything could still be here to celebrate the hard work of finding those goddamn stones.

It’s not fucking fare.

Swallowing thickly, you nod in agreement as more hot tears trail down your somber face, “The world will owe her their lives and never even know it.....but I will, we all will. Her memory will live on if I can help it, we owe her that much.”

Steve slowly nods, thumbs fiddling together anxiously as he mutters a raspy, “Yeah.”

You rest a comforting hand atop his broad shoulder as he shares a mutually dismal look with you, “We’ve already lost so much already and she fought for this like no once else did, we will avenge her Steve. I don’t doubt she knows it.”

-

Tagged: @diegos-butt @minigranger @bibliophilewednesday @holyhumorliteraturelight @lilacs-lavender @a-girl-who-loves-disney @starkssnarks @vikingqueen28 @bizarrebibitch @atomicpersonacheesecake @jmstz @staygoldsquatchling02 @marvelbros-oneshots @shawnartmendes @mischiefmanaged71 @jckie94  @iamasimpingh0e @mjaudrey  @thescarlettvvitch

[nalu-love-4-life]

Dragon Swan Song

Author’s Note:

It’s been a very long time since I wrote a drabble on Tumblr for NaLu. But I have had an itch lately to write something for them, because I haven’t written anything passionately in a very long time, and what could be more fun to jump back into writing than to write about my OTP?

I hope you all enjoy this short NaLu drabble where Natsu is a knight assigned to protect the princess, Lucy!

_______________________________________________________________________________________________________

The skirt of my dress flowed freely around my ankles as I paced back and forth from the end of my bed to the chamber doors. A feeling of impending dread was steadily building in my stomach and each time I stopped to take a breath the anxious knots only seemed to pull tighter. The late morning sunlight streaming in from the balcony created patches of heat on the cool stone floor. While the warmth on my skin brought brief comfort, my thoughts were still troubled and they swirled in my head, going ‘round and around, making me dizzy. My pacing stopped only when I heard a low rapping on the doors behind me.

“Excuse me, Princess. I’m coming in,” a husky voice called.

I swiveled around and straightened my back, and hastily tucked a couple loose strands of hair - which had fallen over my face - behind my ear. After clasping my hands together with a firm grip, I answered, “C-come in!” There was a momentary pause before the doors opened and a familiar mess of pink hair peaked into view.

Natsu, I thought with a soft sigh. I could already feel my worries sliding off from my shoulders. As he stepped into the room, I could see his firm build. He stood almost a foot taller than me and his skin was tanned from spending long days training in the sun.

“Princess Lucy, is everything alright?” He asked. “I could hear your footsteps from the other side of the doors. Is there something on your mind?” His voice was deep and sincere, but the formality of his speech felt strange.

“Y-yes! Everything is fine, really. No need to worry. I’m just overthinking some plans that my father had proposed to me this past evening.” I did my best to brush his concern away with a smile and a curt wave of my hand, but the crease between his eyebrows remained and his lips did not move from the slight frown they were set in.

“Hmm,” he hummed aloud. ��Well, though I believe you’re telling me the truth, I cannot take your words at mere face value.”

“Huh?” I questioned.

“You don’t look like you’re in full health, Princess. So I will do my own inspection to make sure you are feeling well,” he said in a raised voice while peering down the long hallway. I waited with anticipation as Natsu quietly shut the wooden doors. He paused, and I watched his shoulders rise and fall as he slowly breathed in and out. When he turned around and looked at me I could see the glimmer of mischief dancing in his onyx eyes.

“Natsu,” I said. “What are you doing? It’s the middle of the day. We could be caught!”

He smirked, briefly flashing his sharp canines. A jolt rippled down my spine and my heart beat faster in my chest.

“We’ll be fine, Luce,” he said. Natsu took a couple steps closer to me. He had a confident air about him. “Anyone who was around thinks I’m simply checking on the princess to make sure she’s feeling well. Nothing wrong with that, right?” He raised his eyebrows and the devilish flare grew in his eyes. My knees wobbled underneath the intensity of his stare. As he entered further into the room, the sunlight illuminated the details of his face. I couldn’t help myself from studying him.

The old scar that ran down his right cheek stopped at his jawline, and another stretched across the right side of his neck. The rough skin healed a bit darker than his normal shade, which only made them appear more prominent. His cheeks were dusted a soft rose giving him a healthy and youthful likeness. Light freckles speckled the bridge of his nose and under his eyes, but if you weren’t looking close enough you wouldn’t think he had any at all. There was a bit of dirt on his forehead and his hair was in mild disarray, so he had probably been training in the courtyard or tending to the horses in the stables earlier. My eyes continued to scan over his face. I didn’t want to miss a thing.

“Like what you see?”

“Huh?!” Startled, my concentration broke and our eyes locked.

Natsu chuckled and closed the little distance that was left between us. His smile was warm. “You’re cute when you get lost in thought,” he muttered bringing his right hand to rest on my cheek. It was as if there was fire in his fingertips. His touch was gentle, but every one set my skin ablaze. I could feel the rough callouses on his palm that had formed from years of hard work wielding his sword and perfecting his skills.

“Don’t tease me like that,” I pouted. My hair fell loose around my shoulders as I turned my head to the side.

“Aw, come on, Luce. I was being serious,” he whined, but the slight twitch at the corners of his mouth gave away his amusement. A gasp escaped my lips as I felt two strong arms circle around my waist and pull me forward. Our bodies pressed together and the palms of my hands rested on his chest. All I could think about was how firm and strong it felt.

“Natsu th-this is embarrassi-!”

“You really are beautiful, Princess,” he murmured. His voice was low and tender and every word sounded so sincere. I really admired that about him. Though sometimes he could be honest to a fault, it was just another one of his many charms.

He used his hand that was on my cheek to brush the hair from my face and place it back behind my ear. “There they are,” he said. “Hey, Doe Eyes.” A quiet chuckle rumbled in his throat.

“Hi,” I whispered almost breathless. Natsu smelled like warm linen and earth, with a hint of something sweet, like honey or vanilla. I wished that I could bottle that scent so I could revisit it whenever, but did my best to focus so I could at least commit it to memory. His dark eyes held me as a willing captive and I couldn’t tear myself away. As frustrating as his teasing could be at times, I was never more at ease than when I was enveloped in his embrace. Whenever it seemed like everything was turning upside down and I felt as if I could float away at any given moment, I could always count on him to tether me and bring me safely back to solid ground.

His face relaxed as he scanned over me. “Now,” Natsu said clearing his throat. “Are you gonna tell me why you were pacing so much? Your footsteps were so loud, I bet everyone in the castle thought an ogre was stomping around in here.” Natsu’s eyebrows lifted and his lips puckered ever-so slightly. I could tell he was holding in laughter.

“How dare you!” I huffed and pushed against his chest so that he would relinquish his hold on me. “And just when I thought you were being genuinely sweet for once.” I crossed my arms over my chest and marched onto the balcony.

There was a cool spring breeze and the sky was bright blue with thin white clouds floating lazily overhead. I positioned myself so that my arms rested against the thick metal railing that overlooked the castle garden. All of the flowers were in full bloom and their many scents mixed in a harmonious melody which filled the air and swirled around me. I took a deep breath in to fully appreciate the wonderful aroma. As my muscles began to relax the sound of heavy boots came closer to my turned back.

Natsu stood quietly beside me with his back leaned against the railing. He craned his neck to the side and looked across the castle grounds. “You always did enjoy the garden, didn’t you?” He asked, although it seemed like it was more of a statement to himself. “Even when we were kids, if you were ever upset you’d always go someplace where you could see the flowers.”

I glanced at him from the side. “Of course I like the garden,” I sighed. “The flowers are pretty, it’s always quiet, and I can lose myself walking around in it. I can pretend like I don’t have a care in the world—like I can do whatever I want—be whoever I want—love whoever I-” I stopped myself and turned to look at Natsu. He was smiling at me, but it was small and there was sadness underneath. Natsu shifted his eyes away from me and turned around so that he faced the garden. His broad shoulders slumped forward and his weight pressed down on his forearms that he’d rested on the railing.

“Do you remember that day?” He asked. “When we met?” I ran my eyes over his face, trying to discern what he might be thinking. “You were picking daisies in the far corner of the garden to make a makeshift crown, and I was running from Makorov ‘cuz I accidentally tore a hole right through his trousers with my sword.”

“As I recall, you caused that tear because you were sparring with Gray again over who was going to get to eat the last slice of Miss Mira’s strawberry shortcake that she’d baked earlier that day,” I mocked. “But then Erza knocked your heads together, claimed it for herself, and ate it right in front of you! So neither you nor Gray got any cake and you were both punished for fighting—no sweets for a whole month!” I raised my hand to cover my mouth as I laughed.

“Y-yeah… Erza’s scary,” Natsu muttered.

I stood with my hands on my hips and gave a disapproving stare. “I haven’t forgotten how you ran straight into me and crushed all of my daisies before I could make that crown, by the way,” I said. “And you caused me to fall face first into the dirt and ruin the new dress Father had gotten for me, too,” I huffed. Natsu grimaced and rubbed the back of his head, ruffling his hair.

“Uh, yeah, sorry,” he said. “I remember getting an earful about that too.”

I scoffed in mild amusement. “It’s fine. To be quite honest, Father always ordered the most stuffy dresses back then, anyway, and the one you ruined was particularly stifling to wear,” I said. “Especially when I was out in the garden.”

“Well, I wish you had said something back then before Erza chewed me out for that in between mouthfuls of cake,” Natsu laughed.

“Why would I when it’s so amusing to see how you and Gray shake like puppies when she scolds you?” He pretended to pout at my taunting which only made me laugh more. “Miss Erza’s not so terrible, you know,” I said gaining my composure.

“You only think that because you’ve never had to fight her. After one training session I can barely move for days whenever she’s put in charge of combat practice. She’s merciless!” He whined.

I giggled and Natsu turned his head so he could look at me. His eyes were serious when they met mine. Something about his steady gaze threw my stomach for a whirl. “W-what is it?” I asked.

Natsu shifted his weight and stood tall. His stature blocked the sun and cast a shadow over me. To someone else, he might seem scary using his full height to his advantage like this. But to me, he was no more threatening than a dragonfly.

“Lucy,” he said. His voice came off stern but his eyes were almost pleading. “Tell me why you’ve been so stressed lately. I won’t continue to pretend like I haven’t noticed.” Natsu took my hand in his. I could feel his thumb tracing gentle circles over the tops of my fingers. Unlike before, he kept a respectable distance between us and was careful to hide our clasped hands behind the railing.

We couldn’t risk the groundskeepers or any other castle attendant seeing us, and the balcony was a very public spot. Any affectionate display witnessed by the wrong person was sure to circulate through the castle grapevine, and there would surely be repercussions to face. I knew this, of course, but I still felt my heart longing.

————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————

Author’s End Note:

I hope you all enjoyed this first installation of this NaLu drabble as much as I enjoyed writing it! Sorry to leave you all on a bit of a cliffhanger there but it was getting much longer than originally intended haha Should I continue it and make it a real story? If you want more please like, comment, and/or DM me and let me know what you think! And make sure to follow me on here on tumblr for any updates on this story and so you don’t miss any other Fairy Tail NaLu drabbles or fanfic posts/art or story reblogs!

❤️ nalu-love-4-life

[rosaliepostsstuff]

Secret santa - F.W.

This is my fic for @thisismysecrethappyplace​‘s writing challenge, using prompt #27 - "Today, it's like there's rock bottom, then 50 feet of crap, then me."

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Hufflepuff!reader (although the house is not mentioned much)

word count: 2070

a/n: I’m not one of the people who start celebrating Christmas on November 1st (but if you do - live your extra life, love) but the idea of secret santa game just popped into my head and I couldn’t think of any other story to work with the quote. Year is not specified.

If you want to be added to my taglist, let me know!

December rolled around and the castle of Hogwarts has been covered in snow once again. The snow reflecting the little sunlight the area got this time of year, making the inside seem a bit brighter. It reminded you that in just a few weeks’ time it would be Christmas. Even though you were to stay at Hogwarts this year, you were looking forward to it.

During one of the study sessions in the Great Hall, you were sat next to your friends from Gryffindor. You were quietly chatting to Angelina and Katie. One word led to another and you learnt that the girls and a few more friends of yours would be staying for the Christmas break as well.

“Look, we’ll finally get to properly spend the holidays together-“ Katie started, but Angelina quickly joked, “oh, like the big, dysfunctional, happy family we are” and finished with a big grin that quickly fell when she caught Professor Vector’s eye and got back to her notebook. “Hey, that’s not a half-bad idea,” you put your quill down and looked between the girls, “how about we gather the rest and do a ‘secret Santa’ type of deal, huh?” you said enthusiastically. They studied you a bit sceptically, but you got them intrigued.

When you got them convinced, you talked to a few other people and decided to gather the next evening after dinner to draw the names so you’d still have almost three weeks to prepare the gifts.

That’s how you found yourself, all the Weasleys, Harry, Hermione, Lee, Angie and Katie gathered at one of the tables near a huge fireplace at the Great Hall. Being very excited about the idea, you prepped the pieces of parchment with the names beforehand and now everybody was to draw one from a hat passed around the group.

When it reached you, your heart started to beat slightly faster – you were quietly hoping to get Fred – you were friends, but you liked him slightly more and were hoping the act of kindness of a well thought out gift would get you some bonus points. It was now or never.

You reached in, stirred around with your hand a bit and picked one of the folded pieces, then passed the hat on. Carefully, so that no one would see it, you unfolded the parchment that read-

“Lee Jordan”

You tried not to show disappointment on your face. It was fine. You liked Lee and you planned to make the best gift you could think of. You’d still get to see Fred, even if you didn’t make the present for him.

You couldn’t help but wonder who did draw his name. Would they make a nice gift? Maybe a nicer one than you would’ve? Get his gratitude- oh, how you hoped it wasn’t any of the quidditch girls. What if it’s Angie? Oh, he must like her – she’s tall, pretty, and cool-

“Hey, Y/N?” Hermione’s voice snapped you out of your spiralling thoughts. “What’d you think? Do we exchange on Christmas eve? Christmas day, boxing..?” Asked Katie. “Uhm, the eve’s fine,” you mumbled and followed everyone, getting up and heading out.

You said your goodbyes and separated from the group – you were the only one headed to the dungeons. As you were about to go through the door you saw a piece of parchment someone must’ve dropped. Before you got to it, you saw Harry notice it and pick it up.

Passing by, you involuntarily looked at the parchment-

“Y/N Y/L/N”

Dammit, you thought and went on. That was about it for your surprise, or at least half of it.

——————⁛⁙⁘◊⁘⁙⁛——————

Days had passed, then weeks, and you found yourself with just a few days left in this term before the winter break would start.

You woke up late, with weird neck pain – you had slept in a funny position. Throwing on your robes you kicked your shin by accident and took a moment to shout out a few indecent words to help ease the pain and then you pushed through, determined to reach potions on time.

During the break, before your second period, you figured you would stop by the library to pick up a book you were going to need for an assignment you planned to start that evening.

Walking through the aisles with your destination well known, you looked out the large windows at the snow – and with the remnants of any positive attitude you had in you, you smiled to yourself.

“Have you done yours already..?” you suddenly heard Ron’s ineffectual whisper from behind a bookcase. It made you stop in your tracks and against your better judgement, you listened in. “Yeah, I got her a book…” Harry’s voice whispered back. ‘please, don’t say what book’ you repeated in your mind. “… something about the history of wizarding settlements in Britain..? I can’t remember the title, but she’ll like it.”

You grimaced to yourself at the thought – he couldn’t be more wrong. And then to top it, he added some sweets you absolutely loathed.

With heavy steps and a heavy heart, you headed to charms.

You liked charms, and you loved professor Flitwick. He was one of the decent teachers in this school, kind and sometimes even funny.

Today was one of those lessons, this time of year, that he gave up on starting a new topic and decided you were to do some revisions. Your mood slightly lifted, you were practising the banishing charm.

As the end of the lesson was drawing close you got comfortable and your mind started to wander. Thinking about the earlier events, you lost your focus and accidentally knocked over the pile od books Flitwick was standing on, sending the professor flying face down.

He was nice enough to understand your mistake and you were not punished in any way, but it didn’t change how bad you felt about it.

As you headed to lunch, cursing the universe, Merlin, and everything around, you thought the day couldn’t get any worse.

And then you tripped on one of the stone floor slabs.

You heard Fred and George’s booming laughs, lying on the floor and debating whether life was worth getting up. When the twins saw you not getting up, they stopped laughing.

Fred walked up and looked at you a bit confused – the fall wasn’t all that bad and you didn’t look hurt. “You alright there, sunshine?” he said leaning over you. You groaned in response and rolled over, then reluctantly got up from the cold floor with Fred’s help. “Peachy,” you replied, dusting off your robes and Fred snorted, then studied your expression.

He signalled for George to go without him and patted your shoulder lightly. “Today, it's like there's rock bottom, then 50 feet of crap, then me.” You gestured wildly. “Alright then, papa Fred’s got you. What’s troubling you?” he asked, slightly amused, yet genuinely as you began strolling in the direction of the great hall. You took a deep breath, wondering where to start. “I slept in, was almost late to potions which we know would leave me with trauma, I knocked Flitwick to the ground by accident when we practised Depulso  - and now this,” you kicked the cousin slab of the one that made you trip and Fred chuckled at your pout, “Oh and I almost forgot – my Christmas present’s gonna be rubbish,” you exaggerated. “How so?” he asked, confused. “Well, I know who’s my secret Santa already. Found out by accident. Then I overheard what I’m gonna get… I mean, it’s okay, but I guess I was just hoping for something nice…” you rambled looking down to the ground. “Oh. Okay then… you know what? I actually promised Lee I’d pick something up for him before lunch, so – I- I’ll see you later?..” It was your turn to be confused. You looked up at him but before you raised your hand with a little wave and mumbled small “bye”, he walked off.

——————⁛⁙⁘◊⁘⁙⁛——————

You haven’t seen Fred all that much since that weird encounter – you didn’t have any classes together and you were in different houses so it was just a coincidence to you.

The Christmas Eve came around and you were playing wizards’ chess with Ron in the great hall to pass time before the rest of the group gathered. People were slowly pouring in, each of them adding to the small pile on the wooden table, a box enchanted with a concealing spell, so that each gift looked the same – and the secret Santa remained secret. Among the last few was Fred, looking slightly sheepish for himself.

“So are doing it, lads and lassies?” exclaimed Lee rubbing his palms together, making everyone chuckle. You all sat down close in what resembled a circle, making sure no one was left out.

Hermione pointed her wand at the pile of boxes, “Revelio” and they all appeared in different forms, with various name tags attached.

You decided to open the gifts one by one going clockwise, starting with all-too-eager Lee. You couldn’t help the wide grin that appeared on your face when you saw his child-like joy after opening the gift from you. Then it was Angelina’s turn, then yours.

You reached for the package with your name on it, trying to appear enthusiastic and not-at-all like you already knew what was inside. You unwrapped the paper with a mix of shock and confusion on your face.

Inside the paper was a box of your favourite chocolates and underneath a plain-looking book. You opened it and it turned out to be a photo album filled with photographs of you with your friends, along with some captions and thematic drawings on the white-ish pages around them.

With mouth slightly open you flicked through a few pages and ran your hand over the doodles. You looked up at Harry, who had the same expression as anyone in this circle – except for one person who studied your reaction and tried to hide the satisfied smile on his face.

The gift opening continued. It was when Hermione opened hers and you saw what you had thought you’d get that it dawned on you. It started with the assumption that when Harry picked up the note with your name it meant he was your secret Santa, which (obvious for you now) didn’t have to be the case and it wasn’t. Then with your mind set in stone, you just kept assuming things.

“Did you like your gift?” with newfound courage thanks to the good mood, you nudged Fred on the way out. He slowed down to walk beside you and separate from his mates. “Why, were you my Santa?” he asked cheekily. “No, not this year. Just curious.” you shrugged your shoulders. “Yeah, it was nice.” he stated simply, and after a bit of silence added, “d’you like yours?” “Why, were you my Santa?” you giggled. He put his hands in his pockets and avoided your gaze as a smile started creeping upon his face. “Merlin’s beard, you were..?” you cursed yourself for saying that out loud as your heart started thudding. “Maybe.” He looked at you with a mischievous smile and you melted. “Freddie, I loved it. It was really… sweet,” you said, shyly. “Good then, glad it wasn’t rubbish.” he snorted lightly and you wanted to bury yourself right then and there. “I’m soo sorry about that, it was a misunderstanding. I was in a bad mood, I thought somebody else was making a gift for me, I- I didn’t… I’m sorry Freddie.” You smiled awkwardly at him and he chuckled, ruffling your hair. “It’s alright, sunshine. I’m happy you don’t resent me” “I could never.” “Oh?” he stopped and looked you straight in the eye, smirking. “Uh, I mean…” your mind went blank. “You see, I was really happy when I drew your name.” he looked up above the two of you and your eyes remained on him. “It just so happens that I really like you so you must agree it would be convenient if you liked me back.”

You gulped. He looked back down at you, then gestured with his eyes for you to look up.

There it was, hovering above you, in all its glory – the magical mistletoe.

“So?” He leaned down a bit, turned his head to the side and tapped his finger on his cheek, “make it up to me?”