#snippet from an english chapter?

[hi-avathisside]

and it is a worry that makes sweat trickle down my forehead, makes me think a little longer, and it is, if I find myself in the same situation 10 years after. It is sad, that I might marry a man like my father. it scares the living soul out of my spine. yes backwards. and it is of the quote, "You end up marrying a man like your father. You try not to, but you're the man like your father, or the exact opposite, but you do. There's always an angry man at your house. Even if you do not have an angry man in your house"

"My father was awful to my mother. He made her feel...small. It looked like he got joy from making her feel silly.... My....was..a good man..." The dialogue continues in the TV as I look at my mother, lying down and after the daily quarrel with my father in the morning before he leaves for his shop. it made me extremely sad. The striking reality made me sad, but it also meant that other people had also gone through this, there was hope, but the fleeting image of my very wise comes to my mind, as she said, "You can only help her, if she wants it" I nod, but the helplessness unsettles my heart. I change the channel. The similarity yet contrast of the television and my life, the lying image of my mother, the remnants of the quarrel, like a revolving tape made me quite uneasy. I could not have myself stand in front of me, 10-15 years after and see that my husband, is talking bad of me, of something that I did, in innocence, or in forgetful nature, or in just naivety, be ridiculed in front of my children. to have my husband be so passive agressive that he does not talk to me, does not ask me why I did that, rather tells my children that I'm so dumb. I counter myself that I won't go seeing my disrespect like that, I'd stop him, slap him, leave him, throw the divorce paper at him, take my children and leave. but, it is not easy. when you are so invested in a man, you are in love, it is not easy to just let go, he disrespects you, you leave it as must be having a rough day. he yells around the house, you take it like a good loving wife and mother and give him food to calm him down. You think, "is he 5?" but before you can answer he asks you to bring warm food for him. you can eat later obviously, you're the wife. when he hits your children, and denies admitting it after, you think, "this was bad, but he was with me when I had given birth, helped me, and even accepted me when i gave birth to a girl. when I gave shame to the society. he must love me he also loves these children, he's just angry." when he disrespect you, makes fun of your intellect, of your choices, asks you to erase yourself, your 25 years of identity and just become his wife, his worker, his slave, his trophy, his permanent joke, you think, "what better option do I have than this?" when he starts your day with long yelling quarrels and fights and you get used to it after time, you then, go around the house and yell at your children when they sleep a little more than required. when your children ask you to leave this man, to leave their father, you don't because, "where else will we go?""what better choice do we have?" "this is our best." when he disrespects you in front of your children, you take it, as your children look at you, beg at you to do something, but you don't. I don't know why.

[kurootedi]

• At first I wanted to write chapters as snippet, but then they are called fragment.

• The following fragment is narrated on behalf of Hiroki. And it's without the main cover or labeling. But it does have a title: “Before Going to the Academy”. Fragment four.

• The fifth fragment doesn't have a main cover either. Title: “Waiting for Sensei”. Fragment Five.

I said on Instagram that I would post these fragments here in order ✌ And I think the quality is much better here and the size is full size without cropping (^▽^)

I started painting these fragments in Jan. 2024! Yes, I'm very slow at drawing, but I really want to show you my universe and introduce you to the characters from this world (～￣▽￣)～

⚠ Minora @/theeminniee from instagram helped with the English translation of 2, 3, 5 fragments! Thank you so much for her help! And to translate the 4th fragment my sister helped me. 1 fragment was translated through google translator, so it may be wrong in some places 🤔

26.12.2024

[revelboo]

Last night I dreamed about you (not a strange dream)Basically, in my dream, you were famous to the point that all two stories here on Tumblr were physical books/available on Kindle. One day, on my birthday, I received a gift from my friend: The hardcover editions of "give up/give in" and "everything is alright". Man, what a good dream. The covers were SO BEAUTIFUL, glossy and probably the most beautiful things I've ever seen. Like, I woke up sad, because they were so perfect that I wanted them to be real. The last thing I remember doing in the dream was finishing reading both books on the same day because i was so excited!

Anyway, thanks for making me go crazy over Transformers again! I've been following you since the first 'chapters' of Everything is Alright (I think I found your account when you were releasing the 5th or 6th).

Hugs from a Brazilian fan 💗🇧🇷(And sorry for any words I may have misspelled. I'm not very confident about my English writing 🙂)

Haha nooo this stuff is just purely just my bored rambling nonsense. It’s not even beta read or edited really- it’s super rough. I’m glad you like it, though. I hadn’t been active in the fandom in ten years or so myself before I started writing these snippets.

Give Up/Give In Pt 14

Earthspark Megatron x Reader

• Landing, he waits for you to get clear before transforming so he can kneel and offer you his cupped hands. “Where are we?” You ask, settling yourself in his palm as he stands and walks up to the massive, hidden door recessed into the mountainside. And grimacing, he tries to think of a nice way to explain that he doesn’t trust Ghost. That he likes having his own place to recharge where he doesn’t have to constantly worry or look over his shoulder. Not even Optimus knows about this place and he can appreciate that his old friend also hasn’t pried, respecting his privacy. But letting himself in, he’s suddenly painfully aware of how empty the space is.

• “it’s just a place I can escape to for quiet,” he says, but there’s an edge to his tone that makes you think that’s not the whole answer. You don’t push, though, looking around. There’s a berth against a wall. A storage locker, and what might be a shower area in a corner, but it’s spartan and doesn’t really look like a place someone lives in. No photos, no mementos collected over the years. It’s not a home. “It’s not much, is it?” He asks as if reading your mind and you flinch, because what do you know about Cybertronians? Maybe uncluttered and empty is their design aesthetic.

• Wishes he can tell what you’re thinking as you look around. Do you find it lacking and lonely? It’s never mattered to him before, but now it does. Dorothy’s home is full of things. Odds and ends that humans tie memories to. What do you make of his hideaway without those human things? “It’s fine. You’re sure I’m not in the way here?” You ask, looking up at him and his spark warms that you’re worried about imposing on him. Just like you hadn’t wanted to impose on the Malto’s. Pulling the air mattress and blankets Dorothy had let him take from his subspace, he sets it up on a corner of his berth. The box of water and packaged MREs go beside it and he turns to find you watching him.

• “I like the company,” he says, nudging the box with a servo. Is he lonely recharging here alone instead of in the Ghost facility with the Autobots? He’s not given you a lot of details, but you get the impression he doesn’t trust Ghost and that Dorothy isn’t entirely sold on them either even though she works for them. Aware that you don’t have all the information, but okay with that for now since you don’t want to hound him. “You’re welcome to stay as long as you want,” he adds, letting you avoid the real world a bit longer. To take the time to get yourself together.

• If you’re here, he can keep an optic on you. Live up to his promise. Knows you’ll want to leave him eventually and go back to your life, but he’s not about to make you until you’re ready. And until then, it’ll be nice to have someone to talk to. Someone that doesn’t only see the monster he’s trying to leave behind. “Thank you,” you say and he reaches out a servo, one corner of his mouth twitching when you lay a hand on it. Because your trust? It means everything and he wants to be worthy of it.

Previous

Next

[dottielovegood]

Beautiful! When can we indulge in some more „Heat“? I am cravibg your fic sooo bad 🥺

Hi!

The next chapter is currently 2034 words long (my chapters are usually 7000+ words). Out of those 2034 words, I would say that 65 % are shit, or not even written in English (my drafts are usually a messy mix of languages, lol).

BUT

Since it's the last day of Elriel month, I'll give you a little snippet of the next chapter. My original plan was to finish the fic during Elriel month, but life had other plans (like a new job that kept me busy + writer's block).

Mind you, I might change all of this when I actually finish + edit the chapter, but for now, this is the first part of the last chapter of HEAT.

Enjoy <3

───── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ─────

Mate. 

You are my mate. 

Elain could do nothing but stand there and stare at him as the words seemed to echo between them. She knew what the words meant, of course she did. She had read the books. She had heard the stories. She had laughed at the absurdity of people believing that soulmates were real. Just a few months ago those words had held no meaning to her because she didn’t believe in such a thing.

Mates. 

It was something that only belonged in movies, or in romance novels, not real life. It was a fantasy that was about as real as unicorns. Nuala had even asked her a few weeks ago if she thought that she would find a mate now that she was an omega, and Elain had laughed at the question. Not because the question was funny, but because it made her feel a new sense of panic she had never experienced before. 

What if she did find a mate?

What if she was mated to someone she didn’t know? 

What if she didn’t even like the person?

If mates were real, how would you even know that you were compatible?

The questions she had never before considered had invaded her mind that day and for days after, she had been on edge, especially when she knew that there was an alpha nearby. What if that mate-thingy just snapped into place while she was in line at the grocery store? Could she be mated to an alpha that smelled like sour socks and sadness? Did she have a say in who she was mated to?  Could she say no?

The mere thought of being mated to another person had scared the living shit out of her and now, here she stood, one hand on the doorknob while the other rested on Azriel’s chest. 

Over his heart. 

My mate, he had called her. She waited for the panic to set in. She waited for the questions and the doubt and the shock to bubble up from the depths where she had buried it all. She waited, and waited, and waited, but the panic never came. Azriel’s heart was beating a steady rhythm beneath her palm. A rhythm that matched her own. Home, her heart seemed to tell her. He was home.

[futuremrsreid]

Love Like Ghosts - Chapter One

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Hotchner!Reader

Warnings: Angst, flirty talk, Spencer isn’t an asshole he’s just deeply traumatized

A/N: Bear in mind, English isn’t my first language. This one is short, I guess it’s more of a prologue. Read this post for backstory on the reader

"I'm back in DC. Will you meet me for coffee tomorrow? At 3 p.m., the usual place? I heard you guys are on official time-out for a few weeks."

I waited 5 hours and 30 minutes, but no reply came. Good thing I didn't care about sounding desperate.

"Please, Spencer. I just want to talk."

"I'll be there."

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

My fingers nervously fiddled with the menu laid out before me. The clock at the small café showed me the same time my phone already did. 2:55 pm. 5 minutes before we said we would meet, but for Spencer, that meant he was late. And since the last at least dozen times we had met here, he was always 10 minutes early.

I figured he didn't necessarily want to see me, but I never thought he would stand me up.

Maybe he had changed. I haven't seen him in so long, and from the snippets I had managed to get out of my dad, 3 months in prison did a number on him. My stomach churned at the thought.

Yet before my brain could spiral more, the small bell above the entrance rang, and Spencer Reid entered. His eyes scanned the few tables until he finally saw me.

I awkwardly waved at him, immediately chastising myself under my breath.

I felt like I couldn't breathe for the seconds it took for him to walk over. And when he finally sat down, my breath was still caught in my lungs.

His hair was longer and messy, his face pale and unshaven. Beautiful, like always, but in a devastatingly sad way.

"Hi", I said, voice cracking uncharacteristically. He noticed immediately.

"Hey", his reply was soft, despite his intense gaze on me.

"Thank you for coming. I won't hold you long. I get that you maybe don't really want to talk to me, but my dad told me what happened, and I just-", I stopped, not knowing how to put it without sounding desperate. "He said you were fine, but I wanted to see for myself."

"And?" his one-word reply came. I wasn’t sure how to handle this, to handle him. But I was never afraid to be honest with him, and I wouldn't start now.

"Well, either you have been lying to everybody, or you have been lying to yourself and everybody. You're clearly not fine." I could see that he didn't appreciate my answer, but we both knew I was right. He leaned back in his seat.

"Why wouldn't I want to talk to you?"

"What?"

"You said you'd get that I maybe wouldn't want to talk to you. Why would you think that?"

"Well, I-", I paused, unsure about what to say.

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

7 months ago

"Thank you for driving me home. I'm still embarrassed that you had to pick me up there. As I've told you at least 10 times now, I usually don't go there."

"What? You usually don't spend your free time in dirty sticky bars? Who would've thought...", he was barely able to hide his grin, but when I jokingly hit his shoulder in fake offense, he chuckled.

"No, and you know....Usually, I try to be the dirtiest and stickiest thing in a bar, which would be unachievable in a place like that." I joked and flashed him a mischievous grin, taking note of the redness spreading on his face.

"I hope you know that that's an extremely odd goal to have."

My reply came in a giggle and the rattling of my keys as I pushed them into the lock of my apartment door.

"Wanna come in? I can make you a cup of tea. I add ginger to it. It's actually famous in my family." He had never been in my apartment before. It was a line we hadn't crossed, and I wasn't sure he even wanted to. But when I opened the door and turned back around to him, there was a kind of longing in his eyes. Confirmation came in the form of a nod, his body following mine inside.

It really shouldn't have felt as forbidden as it did. I wasn’t a child. We weren't doing anything illegal. Yet my skin prickled when I felt the heat of his body behind mine.

"This is exactly how I imagined your apartment. I like it, it fits you."

"You imagined how I live...Interesting fact, Dr. Reid." I walked towards my small kitchen to make the tea I had promised him. "You imagined what my bedroom looks like as well?"  I heard him trip behind me.

"Did uh- Did you know someone's bedroom often reflects their personality because it’s in our nature to influence our environs to our choice and preferences. Over time, your bedroom reveals your personality and it develops a persona of its own. It's extremely improbable that any two bedrooms will look the same. So a tidy room can suggest a person is organized, detail-oriented, and perhaps even a bit of a perfectionist. Conversely, a messy room could indicate a more relaxed, less structured personality, or perhaps even a sign of underlying issues like disorganization or difficulty letting go of possessions."

"I bet you're just dying to see my bedroom to prove that theory."  I flashed a grin at him over my shoulder, my hands busy preparing our tea.

"I mean, the more data is input into a statistic, the more accurate it becomes." I breathed a laugh and put a mug with steaming tea in front of him.

"Bold." When I looked up, I was surprised to see that he's holding my gaze. "Also sounds like the beginning of a very nerdy adult movie." Cheeks warmed and eyes shy away, and after a moment, mine did too. I busied myself with sips of my tea.

“You usually use humor and sarcasm to deflect. Something you want to talk about?”

“No, not really. I mean, getting left alone in a dirty bar because my friend decided to leave with some guy wasn’t necessarily nice, but…other than that, I’m fine. And while I normally use my humor to deflect, I also often use it just to unnerve you.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s fun. And it causes you to blush. And I just-” pause. I wasn’t sure if I should say it. But his eyes were expectantly following my every move, and so I set down my mug and took a step closer to him. “I guess I just like to cause a reaction in you.”

“But why?” His mug joined mine on the counter. We were suddenly so close that he would only have to raise his hand to touch me.

“Because…sometimes it feels like you try so hard not to have one. A reaction to me, I mean. Sometimes it feels like you distance yourself until you’re a thousand miles away, and the only way to reach you is to get you vulnerable enough so that my mind can touch yours. Even if it’s just for a moment.”

“Y/N I-” He sighed and looked away again. I could see it in his eyes, the distance.

“There! That is exactly what I mean. Why do you do that?” No answer came, so I grew frustrated. “Tell me why you won’t let me near.”

“Because I can’t!” His words were too loud for the tiny space we had created. “I just- I can’t.”

“But why?” My voice cracked on the words. It was quiet for another moment before I asked what I had been too afraid to ask this whole time. “Is it because I’m your boss’s daughter? Or is it because you think I’m too young for you?”

“That’s not-”

“Or is it because you’re too afraid to let someone in? Because if it is, I can understand that. Do you think this is easy for me? It’s not. But I-” He turned away suddenly.

“I should never have come inside. This isn’t good for either of us.” He turned away to leave, but I gripped his sweater with just enough force to stop him and turn towards me again. His eyes met mine and every word vanished from my mind. My defences were gone, and even if they weren’t, he wouldn’t listen to them anyway. So I did the only thing I could think of.

I rose up on my toes to kiss him, and his hands found the sides of my head like he had been waiting for it. Months of build-up came crashing down on us fast, but I felt alive. His lips were soft against mine, fingers buried in my hair.

We kissed until there was no air left in our lungs, and after that his lips moved to my jaw as the small of my back hit the kitchen counter.

A small moan escaped me from the impact, and everything shattered. 

I felt the cold air before I registered him moving away. He was halfway across my apartment when I came to my senses and went after him.

“Spencer, wait-”

“I told you I can’t do this, Y/N. We can’t do this!” I opened my mouth but he took the words right out of my mouth. “Don’t ask me why. We just can’t.”

“But-” Weak pleas on deaf ears.

“No. I am not repeating myself. I don’t think we should keep meeting. It will get both of us hurt.”

“Spencer!” But he was already out the door.

The next days were spent with more desperate pleas sent via text.

“Call me back, please.”

“I just want to talk.”

“Spencer, please just call me back.”

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have kissed you.”

“You kissed me back like you wanted to.”

“Can we just talk about this, please?”

“Are you going to ignore me forever?”

“You know, I could just turn up at your work, right? I’m a Hotchner after all.”

“I shouldn’t have said that. I hope you know I would never do that.”

“But what about the next dinner party at Rossi’s? Are you gonna pretend I don’t exist?”

“Did that kiss truly mean nothing to you?”

The last message stung, sitting on read for days. But after three weeks, I managed to accept that it was over. Spencer Reid did not want me in his life. And as much as it hurt, I had to find a way to live with it.

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

“You weren’t eager to talk to me before everything went to shit, so I figured it wouldn’t be any different now.” I finally said. My hands started fiddling with the menu again, our coffees cold and long forgotten. I could feel his eyes on me.

“The last time I saw you, you had a head injury and were terrified out of your mind. Of course, I wanted to see you. I wanted to make sure you’re alright too. I just- I didn’t know how to reach you and if you had your phone.” His confession made me look up to see his eyes already on me. I held his gaze for a moment, for about 3 heartbeats, before I forced a smile on my face.

“And?” I repeated his earlier question, trying to make it sound funny. From the look on his face, I hadn’t managed.

“Well, you seem physically fine. You’re nervous, but that's because of this situation. And the rest… I was never good at reading you, never knew what was going on in your head. I guess you get that from Hotch.” His hands reached out to take the menu from me, probably to keep me from accidentally ripping it. His fingers grazed my wrist unintentionally. I felt like I was going to burst into tears. “Will you tell me how you are?”

“Oh, I am fine. Like you promised all those months ago…Nothing happened to us, or me.”

“I hate to admit that I had no part in that.”

“You had other things to worry about.” I wasn’t sure if I could say it out loud. In prison for 3 months.

“Funny you say that, when in reality prison gave me too much time to worry about all of the things I couldn’t control. Like my mother getting sicker every day, and the fact that Scratch was still running around free, and I had no idea if you were okay.” My throat felt like it was getting tighter. I didn't expect him to worry so much.

“Penelope told me that your mother was better now. Is that not true?” 

“No, it is. She's better now. But things were getting worse for a while, which was mainly my fault.” Self-deprecation and shame laced his words. “It's a long story, and also the story of how I got framed for murder in the first place. I don't feel like telling it.”

“That's okay. You don't have to tell me anything.” My words were almost a whisper. “Are you talking to someone at least?” He paused and leaned back in his seat slightly, guarded.

“Yes. My reinstatement requires mandatory therapy, if that's what you mean.” 

“And how about a non-mandatory therapist? Because you and I both know you want to be reinstated and would keep things from them to achieve that.” I regretted my words the second they had left my mouth.

“Prentiss isn't worried, so neither should you.” Cold, harsh words, meant to throw me off, I'm sure.

“I'm not doubting your ability in the field, Spencer. I'm worried about you.”

“You don't think we are past that point?” I could see that he didn't really mean it, but he had said it nonetheless. And I knew he did it to hurt me. I swallowed down the tears that stung in my eyes.

“You just told me you worried about me while you were in prison. So why would you say that.” The hurt was visible in my voice.

“That's different.” His whole body tensed, arms crossing in front of him.

“How?” 

“It just is.”

“That's not a real answer and you know it!” The sadness disappeared and was replaced by hot, burning anger. “ ‘It just is’, ‘I can't’, ‘Don't ask me why, we just can’t’.” I said, mocking his voice. Bile rose in my throat, but I pushed it down. “I am not a stupid child, Spencer. You don't get to treat me like one! You might think that you don't owe me these explanations, but you do!”

“I don't owe you anything, Y/N.” He said it with such certainty and resentment that I couldn't stop the tears from flooding. The other people in the cafe were looking our way when an involuntary sob left me. “Y/N, I-” 

But the room suddenly felt too small, and the air too thick. I knew I had to leave now to keep at least some of my dignity. So I quickly grabbed my bag and scrambled out of the seat. 

He called my name again, but I didn't want to hear anything else from him.

[gorbo-longstocking]

fun facts about the diaogue in out of sight, out of time: in order to accurately depict the main characters using a translation app as their primary means of communication, i write the dialogue out and then run it through google translate. any grammatical errors or mistakes that happen through the translating, i generally keep (unless it’s literally unintelligible then i rewrite it until it makes sense. or i just keep the clunky flow and just write what i want because some words are fr untranslatable unfortunately)

i know its been less than 24 hours and i made the poll to last a week but the ten unanimous votes got me opening up google docs to start screenshotting scenes from ch 1 i wanna share LMFAO

[fool-tarnished]

"Remember me" - Chapter 3 - Kakashi Hatake x F!Reader

Synopsis : Born in Konoha, [Y/N] wasn't necessarily known as the most impressive or powerful ninja, but rather for her kindness and compassion. She became like an older sister to Naruto and a loyal, faithful friend to many ninjas in Konoha. Without even realizing it, she had earned a special place in the heart of one particular ninja with grey hair. But everything changed the day the Third Hokage entrusted her with a mission from which she would not return unscathed. Pairing : Kakashi Hatake x Female!Reader

List : Chapter 1 // Chapter 2 // Chapter 4

If you want to read Yamato's version, you can find it here.

Warnings : Memory loss, mind control (mk ultra inspired), violence, fluff in the end (if i forgot anything, tell me !)

Inspiration : Where did she go - Saleka

Words : ~ 3000

A/N : Hello there ! Here's the third chapter. I already wrote like 4 other chapters so yeaaah long way to go, sorry. This will end soon, pinky promise. Anyway, I hope you will enjoy it. And sorry for the mistakes, I'm not a native english speaker. Thank you again for the likes, reblogs and comments ❤️

"Did you administer the treatment I entrusted to you?" The voice asking this question was deep, serious. It vaguely reminded you of the one from your first dream. You couldn’t pinpoint its exact origin, but the man speaking couldn’t have been far from you. The sounds and movements surrounding you were faint, almost imperceptible, and trying to make sense of them required immense effort.

Your head felt like it was about to explode, the pain excruciating, the dizziness relentless. You were lying down, your vision spinning wildly, with the sensation that everything around you was in constant motion.

Another voice then broke the silence: "As you instructed." That voice... Yubaba? "Good. Now, I’d like you to leave me alone with her." "She is-" "Leave."

The faint sound of retreating footsteps followed, leaving behind an oppressive silence. You realized the man had drawn closer. Despite your distorted vision, his towering silhouette was now unmistakable.

You tried to speak, to scream, but no sound came from your lips. Only your unsteady, labored breathing broke the silence. The man snapped his fingers several times. You couldn’t discern their exact position; the sense of instability all around you remained overwhelming.

"Good. I see the treatment is working." His voice sent shivers down your spine. A dark aura seemed to envelop him, and you felt vulnerable, utterly defenseless. "I believe we can begin."

With those words, and a soft, chilling laugh, he pressed his hand against your face, and everything went black.

________________________________________

Tsunade came to see you early that morning. You had been on your new treatment for over two weeks, and your headaches had nearly vanished. Iruka and Kurenai had stopped by to visit you. Although their stays were brief, their presence had brought you comfort. Kakashi, on the other hand, visited regularly to talk about Naruto. However, whenever you tried to bring up your shared past, he remained vague, quickly steering the conversation toward more general topics—either about you or himself.

You couldn’t hide the joy that filled you each time he showed up, sat by your side, and spent hours talking with you. Thanks to them, you had been able to piece together some fragments of your past, even though the memories themselves remained elusive. Occasionally, snippets would come back to you—sometimes clear, sometimes not. The photos they had brought helped you put a face to Naruto’s name: a blond ninja who sometimes appeared in your dreams. You now knew that his two close friends were Sakura and Sasuke.

“As you seem to have recovered physically and your headaches have subsided, we’ll have you take a test tonight,” Tsunade announced. Curious, you turned to her. “A test?” “Yes, a physical test. I’d like you to face someone. To see if your skills have vanished along with your memories.”

In truth, the Hokage intended to use this test to probe whether there was more to your memory loss. She sincerely believed your field abilities hadn’t diminished but wanted to confirm her suspicions.

“And who will I be facing?” you asked. “It will be Genma.” “Oh. Are you sure that… this is the right time?”

________________________________________

The test you were about to take seemed to be held in a closed room—an intimate and, most importantly, discreet setting. Tsunade didn’t want the news of this event to spread beyond the small, select group that had been invited. You had been led to the ground floor of the room, where you could make out ninjas observing from above. You spotted Kurenai, accompanied by someone who appeared to be Asuma. Kakashi was there too, standing next to Gai. Tsunade had sent Iruka to keep Naruto occupied, ensuring that he wouldn’t come looking for his teacher or for her.

A strange sensation stirred within you, accompanied by a strong sense of apprehension. You had no idea what you were capable of or what your opponent could do.

“Don’t worry, it’s just a friendly match. We only want to assess where you’re at. If anything goes wrong, we’ll stop immediately.” Reassured by her words, you nodded as the Hokage joined the other ninjas observing from above. Closing your eyes for a moment, you tried to calm yourself, focusing on steadying your breath. It was just a friendly sparring match, after all. If things didn’t go well, they could stop it right away—couldn’t they? It had to be that simple.

“Hey, [Y/N]. Ready?” Opening your eyes, you saw Genma already standing across from you.

He looked particularly composed, unbothered by the fight that was about to begin. You couldn’t help but wonder if he truly intended to fight with that senbon between his teeth.

Genma had been briefed about your return and your memory loss. Though the two of you had never been particularly close, you knew each other well enough from past missions and battles you’d fought together. He was familiar with your fighting style without being emotionally invested—a balance that Tsunade had likely deemed perfect.

You nodded, and that’s when the match began.

Taking a deep breath, you lunged at the ninja instinctively, without overthinking. He deflected your initial strikes with little effort, sensing both the automatic nature of your movements and a subtle undercurrent of hesitation. You fought the way you used to, but something was different. Genma noticed it immediately. It wasn’t alarming given your current situation, but it was a detail he filed away in the back of his mind.

As the exchanges continued, still mechanical in nature, Kakashi closely observed the scene, analyzing every move. He, too, noted the slight differences in your techniques compared to the past. However, what concerned him more was the hesitation. To him, it didn’t seem like the hesitation of someone afraid to miss a strike. Instead, it felt like the hesitation of someone afraid to hit harder than necessary—something you didn’t even appear to realize yourself.

The fight continued for a while longer, and Genma decided to raise the stakes to push you further. He sent you flying a short distance away, catching you off guard with the sudden change in his approach. The kunai in your uniform pocket slipped out during your fall, landing a few steps ahead of you.

“You’ll have to choose, or I’ll choose for you.”

A faint, shrill sound accompanied the sudden appearance of a voice in your head.

“Would you know how to make good use of a second chance if I gave it to you?”

You began to get up, one hand clutching your head, hoping the sharp pain and the noise would fade. Your other hand instinctively grabbed the kunai. Kakashi noticed the movement, one that might have seemed trivial at first glance. Meanwhile, the Hokage frowned, her expression tense. This was the moment she had been waiting for, and she was prepared to intervene, as were the other ninjas who had been briefed before your arrival.

Genma was surprised to see that you were now faster, more aggressive, and far less hesitant. He found it harder to predict your moves, though so far, the kunai hadn’t touched him. As the intensity of your strikes increased, he noticed a shift in your gaze. It was no longer the same as when the fight began. It was something entirely different.

For your part, you attacked without fully understanding how you were doing it. Your actions felt automatic, the hesitation gone, as if driven by the rhythmic noise in your head and the short phrases or single words spoken by that voice—the one that filled you with terror.

Before long, you had brought Genma to the ground—or had he let it happen? Either way, the kunai at his throat was not part of the deal. He grit his teeth, feeling the cold metal of the blade pressed dangerously close to his skin. Your gaze radiated anger, hatred, and pain—a storm of emotions that was anything but reassuring. The brunette struggled to hold your wrists back, trying to keep the weapon from piercing him.

Relief washed over him when he caught sight of Tsunade, Gai, and Asuma. The Hokage stood directly in front of you as the other two quickly grabbed your arms and pulled them away from Genma.

Freed from your grip, Genma scrambled to his feet, rubbing his neck where the blade had grazed him. The cut was shallow, not serious—but the look in your eyes was far more dangerous.

Suddenly, you dropped the kunai, yanking one arm free from Gai’s hold to clutch your head. The pain was still searing, though the voice in your head began to grow quieter. Your eyes closed tightly, and Tsunade motioned for Asuma to let go of you.

“There’s no point in trying to fight it.”

Both hands pressed against your head, you seemed to be trying to block out the noise. Tsunade crouched in front of you, gently placing her hands over yours.

“Bring me the Nine-Tails’ jinchūriki.”

“Please… I want it to stop. I want him to stop.” Your voice was barely above a whisper, but it was enough to draw a look of surprise from the Hokage. She wasted no time initiating a healing jutsu to ease the pain and calm the storm within you.

________________________________________

After the incident, Tsunade escorted you back to your room. She had instructed the other ninjas to return home, signaling that they would likely regroup later to discuss the situation. The only words you managed to say to her before she left were:

“I’m sorry about Genma. I—I’m truly sorry.”

She looked at you for a moment but said nothing, leaving you alone with your thoughts. You lay down in the darkness, unable to stop replaying what had just happened.

Meanwhile, the copy ninja was struggling to process what he had witnessed. Tsunade had warned him, but he hadn’t expected to see something like that so soon. He was deeply worried, though the Hokage had instructed him to observe without interfering. Questions raced through his mind, but above all, he wondered what state you must be in now.

What had driven you to attack Genma without holding back? What was causing these sudden headaches? What was happening to you? And who was the man whose voice haunted you relentlessly?

Tsunade closed the door to your room with a sigh, leaning against the wall. Kakashi was there, staring at the floor. In truth, he had followed the two of you ever since the test ended.

“That wasn’t really her fighting Genma. At least, not during the second part of the match.”

Kakashi’s words carried a heavy weight. It couldn’t have been you—it couldn’t have been your own will. Not you, not from what he knew of you, memory loss or not.

“That’s what I feared,” Tsunade replied. “She whispered, begging for ‘him’ to stop before I eased her pain.”

The silver-haired ninja turned his gaze toward the Hokage, his concern now plainly visible on his face.

“I don’t know what kind of enemy is behind this scheme, but we need to keep Naruto out of it for now.”

“He’ll find out eventually, Lady Hokage. We’re only delaying the inevitable.”

“I have a bad feeling about this. And Naruto… he’s unpredictable.”

“I think he’s capable of hearing the hard truth. It’ll be far worse if we keep it from him.”

As she began to walk down the long hospital corridor, Tsunade cast a final glance at the copy ninja.

“We’ll keep it a secret for now. I assume you’re planning to stay with her tonight?”

The remark took Kakashi by surprise, and his eyes widened.

“I’m only going to check on her, Lady Hokage.”

Once Tsunade had turned away, she let out a soft chuckle and murmured under her breath, “Be careful, Kakashi. Don’t get too close to the flames.”

________________________________________

The door creaked open softly, but you didn’t bother to turn around. You stayed lying on the bed, lost in a fog of confusion and reflection. Silence lingered until you felt the mattress shift slightly beneath you.

“Are you okay?”

Kakashi’s voice reached you, gentle but filled with concern. He was there, likely seated on the edge of the bed.

“No,” you replied flatly.

“Hmm. You know... Genma is fine, and what happened—it wasn’t your fault.”

“By my hand, but not my fault. Is that it?”

A brief silence followed your sharp retort.

“I didn’t want things to turn out this way. I—I didn’t want this,” you murmured, your voice cracking under the weight of your emotions.

“I know. That’s why I’m telling you—it wasn’t your fault.”

A few tears slipped down your cheeks. Kakashi, who had been sitting with his back to you, noticed your subtle, uneven movements. The moonlight spilling into the room illuminated your figure just enough for him to see that you were crying.

Instinctively, the silver-haired ninja placed a hand on your shoulder. His thumb began to trace slow, soothing circles, a small gesture to offer you comfort.

The touch stirred something indescribable within you, but you were in no state to resist or question it. Suddenly, you sat up, leaving Kakashi momentarily stunned, and before you could stop yourself, you wrapped your arms around his torso.

What was happening to you? Why were you acting like this around him?

Kakashi, caught off guard by the unexpected embrace from behind, didn’t move at first. He was torn—part of him wanted to push you away for your own good, while another part, the part his heart screamed at him to listen to, wanted nothing more than to hold you close.

When a few seconds passed with no reaction from him, you began to withdraw your arms from his chest.

“I—I’m sorry… I didn’t mean—”

You were cut off abruptly as Kakashi turned and pulled you into his arms, enveloping you completely. You couldn’t see his face, but his eyes were fixed on your trembling form, glistening with unshed tears.

His thoughts raced, swirling in chaos. Seeing you like this, so broken by what you were going through, left him feeling utterly powerless. He couldn’t stand it. He had faced countless hardships with you before—on missions, in moments connected to Naruto—but seeing you crushed by something so incomprehensible, unable to help you, was unbearable.

He rested his chin gently atop your head and closed his eyes. One of his hands moved to your hair, stroking it softly, trying to soothe you and bring you some semblance of peace.

It had been so long since he last held you in his arms that he could hardly believe it was real. So long, in fact, that he’d almost forgotten you didn’t even remember him anymore. So long that his emotions, long suppressed, now refused to be ordered into anything resembling calm.

Gradually calming down, you let yourself sink into the comforting warmth of Kakashi's embrace and closed your eyes, your hands clutching tightly at his green uniform. When he felt the tension leave your body and managed to steady his own racing heartbeat, the silver-haired ninja opened his eyes gently.

“Let me tell you about one of our missions,” he murmured softly in the stillness of the room. “It was before I started leading Team 7, the one I told you about. You were still in the Anbu back then.”

Keeping your eyes closed, you listened intently to his voice. You had been waiting for this moment since the first time he came to see you. Fearing he might stop if he thought you were awake, you remained perfectly still, feigning sleep.

“Your team joined us as reinforcements on an S-rank mission. Thanks to your intervention, the mission was a success... But that mission stands out in my memory for another reason.”

Kakashi shifted slightly, sitting up straighter while still holding you close. A faint chuckle escaped from beneath his mask.

“Even with your mask on, I could sense how worried you were when you saw our injuries. You fought, but… you weren’t really focused on the battle. I caught you staring at me for a long moment before you even engaged the enemy. The last time I saw you fight like that was during another mission, when I was injured.”

He paused briefly before continuing.

“You barely dodged several dangerous attacks during that fight. All because you were too preoccupied, worrying about me and thinking only of patching me up. The second the battle ended, you ran straight to me and started tending to my wounds. I kept telling you I was fine, but you were so stubborn that I eventually gave in.”

Closing his eyes for a moment, he let out a soft sigh.

“And when you took off your mask, I saw the look in your eyes. It scared me. I was terrified that you could have been hurt because you were so distracted by my condition. But what frightened me even more… was seeing how much you cared about me. You cared so deeply that you forgot your own survival, just because I was injured.”

You recalled how he had avoided giving a direct answer about the nature of your relationship, and now, you were starting to understand why. Faint glimpses of that event began to surface in your mind. They were blurry and fragmented, but undeniably there. And now, you were beginning to realize that perhaps he wasn’t just a friend.

“What happened earlier, with Genma… I know you would never have done that. That wasn’t you. And… I’m going to help you find your way back to who you’ve always been. I don’t know who’s hurting you like this, but… I’m here now, and I’m not letting you go again. Whatever it is, we’ll face it together.”

Someone asked me to tag them on updates, so here is the taglist. If you also want to be tagged, tell me ! :) @strflp

[lolitaonline]

Stalker Best Friend! Noah AN Update MDNI 18+

I will be posting a snippet of best friend stalker! Noah later tonight/ in the evening, please keep in mind that this story can be triggering for some so before I continue with posting a snippet or a brief summary please read the tags, Tw, and AN below <3

TW tags-stalking, watching from afar, religious background/ trauma and innuendos, breaking and entering, theft, god complex, savior complex, friends to lovers, sabotage, obsessive thoughts, mentions of uneasy feelings, mentions of PTSD, anxiety, fear, smut, mentions of threats, blackmail, phone\location tracking (Keep in mind each chapter has it's own TW, this is an overall tag of what to expect for each chapter)

I want to give a full heads up before I continue with what I want to post. I don't want to trigger, upset, or cause any harm to anyone. I will as well be tagging my normal tag list as well as those who asked so they have a heads up for what is to be expected of the story.

Taglist- @fadingintothegrey @like-a-omen @veejezhyk @english-fucker @iloveyoutodeathbutimdrowning @bluestdai @kaliforniahigh @flowery-mess @concreteemo @dollieomens @calleyx13 @fadingangelwisp @hurricanesfollowyou @lacy1986 @alwaysfightforwhoyouare @xxkittenkissesxx @iluvmewwwww75 @silent-stories @veephoenix @graceylove @marvelousmal @thenmaybehellaintsobadafterall @amelia-acero @disappearintothegrey @concretejunglefm @concretenoah @tikosblogg @xmads-omensx @tosoundlessdarkistare @hedonist-k1l @bloody-spades

If you are on the tag list for this post/story and would not like to be tagged for it please let me know. I don't want to tag anyone to read something that they don't want to read. If you would like to be added to the tag list just shoot a message and you will be added! Please also understand updates maybe slow as I started a 'new' job and I am still coming out from severe writers block. I do have the entire story planned out so it shouldn't be too long with updates. If you have an questions, suggestions, ideas, etc.. please message me I am open for discussion. After this is up for a little bit and everyone has time to read the tags I will go and post the snippet I have <3

Thank you, have a good morning, evening, and night! <3

[bitterrfruit]

im writing this right after reading the epilogue. my brain can’t comprehend that houndtooth ended.

it felt surreal. i was so used to them being in the same situation the entire story, and the scenery change really made it feel like i was reading something else. like that was mia and i knew it was her, but it really felt like another life, while being conscious of the previous one. sorry but i’m not the best at expressing how i feel and english is also not my first language. also the fact that you didn’t put those delimitation thingies or whatever they’re called with the hare and the wolf helped making it feel so so different.

before getting into the epilogue i read your last post saying you’re planning to do an anthology of some sort of what happens after, so i knew simon couldn’t be dead hehehehe. but this epilogue left me empty (not because it was badly done no!!) i guess i just can’t do endings. i always fear them, if it was up to me then everything i love would just go on and on. i noticed that i do this a lot of times while reading, no matter how emotional that book makes me feel, i always dissociate when it ends. but enough about me, i NEED TO KNOW EVERYTHING. what happened when simon woke up? i’m sure he asked about mia right away. but did he want to go after her and was stopped, maybe by price or because of the time he had to spend in the hospital for healing? or did he try to keep out of her life for a while? i don’t think so. did he go straight to her after leaving the hospital? with his injuries i imagine he had to spend a long time there, a couple of months maybe. but idk i’m not a doctor. or did he watch her from the shadows for a while? did he make gaz tell him every single detail about her while they were away from each other? did he know she was asking about him constantly and thought he had died that day? did he not know they changed her name or just didn’t care? i remember in one chapter him saying something like wanting to help her use her birth name again, but i might be wrong (i’m in full exam session so my brain is kinda fried) so i thought he might use that name, but reading that he called her mia warmed my heart 🥺 oh how i’ll miss them. it’s gonna hit after a while tho 🫠

i’ll probably have many more questions after i reread. and i also want to say that i love how you always make that little collage (if i can call if that) with aesthetic photos, different for every chapter. i stalked your pinterest and i love it!!

houndtooth will remain in my heart forever. i got so attached to them. i always reread that scene when simon is being his nosey self going through her things and is looking at that pic of mia and her friend, wondering if he’ll ever get to see her simle like that. now he will 🤍

OMG babe holy moly i love you so much. thank you so so much for reading it and i am ecstatic you enjoyed it!!! <33

i want to answer all of your questions so bad but i might be including most of them in the post-epilogue snippets!!

i'll say that Simon wanted to see her immediately after waking up (which would have been at least a month after he was recovered), but wasn't able to - practically, he was stuck in hospital and immobile for a good few months - but also because he didn't want her to see him that wounded and incapacitated, because he would have known how guilty it would make her feel.

He would have got details from Gaz, who he would have kept on a tight leash lmao. Better Gaz than Johnny at least, to be the one to keep an eye on Mia. In any case, he would have heard that she was recovering, would have got the update about her two-week, three-month, six-month chips. Her volunteering, her new apartment, etc.

He didn't know her birth name, and didn't know that Mia wasn't her birth name! He'll know by now, though. But to Simon, she is and always will be his Mia. She will probably resent that, might consider Mia and Amelia to be different people - but Simon only sees the whole picture, only sees the one girl, dark past and all. He'd call her whatever she wants him to, though, if it makes her happier <3

thanks again for your messages and your questions bestie, love you lots <33

[ao3feed-brucewayne]

Who Protects the Protector?

by C4t1l1n4 It is a well-known fact that Bruce Wayne is protective of his kids. What takes a while for him to realize—a while for all of Gotham’s elite to realize—is that the Wayne children are not as unobservant as they might seem. Bruce Wayne might be protective of his kids, and fiercely so, but his kids are just as protective of him in return. Actually, they’re worse.  Words: 3280, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English Fandoms: Batman - All Media Types Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Categories: Gen Characters: Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, Tim Drake (DCU), Damian Wayne, Cassandra Cain, Stephanie Brown, Duke Thomas Relationships: Batfamily Members & Bruce Wayne Additional Tags: Protective Bruce Wayne, Protective Batfamily (DCU), Bruce lets people harrass to him in order to prevent them from harrassing his children, Date Rape Drug/Roofies, implied unwanted sexual advances, due to his brucie persona, people thinking it's okay to ignore bruce's boundries bc of his reputation, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, it doesn't happen bc it gets stopped, but someone was trying to, Bruce is a good parent, kinda 5+1 ish, but there's no+1, it's just a bunch of snippets of the batfam saving Bruce from uncomfortable situations, Swearing, Drunkeness, faked drunkeness, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, i guess, This is might be OOC, but I need everything to be beautiful and nothing to hurt, SO, DC Stands for Disregard Canon, also i've never written some of these kids before, so go easy on me, please let me know if I forgot to tag anything, I barely edited this, and i'm tired via https://ift.tt/pUzHPrh

[starxs-s]

Hopefully a new story about Michael Gavey x Catton!reader will be uploaded tonight. (Hopefully cuz I don’t know if my short focus span will let me get it done). English is not my first language so don't cancel me if there will be mistakes lmao.

A snippet for you ♡

And if not for the lack of invite to the Christmas Party of his own college Michael would think he has everything he needs. A good marks, a 'friend' if he could even label Oliver like that, a peace and quiet. He was doing math at one of the oldest, best and most popular colleges in United Kingdoms.

The only thing that could piss him off was you. Felix Catton's younger sister. With the hair as fluffy and as dark as your brother's but eyes brighter than his. In your mother's or father's color, Michael was often thinking about them while sitting in the class.

Class he unfortunately had to share with you. What were you even doing there? In math class. In his class.

Course wasn't filled with many girls. Just you, one red head freak and a girl that Michael believed couldn't do times table, what for him was utterly pathetic.

And it wasn't like you needed a degree. You had the status, the prestige, ‘Catton’ that followed after your name and a fucking castle. The amount of money you had could keep you, your future children and many generations after them safe from even moving a finger.

You were always sitting in library with wired earphones in your ears, too far and music too quiet for Michael to hear what you were listening to. Always with your head down, gaze focused yet tired like doing all those math examples drained all your energy. And Michael couldn't stop but watch you from behind his glasses. His pale blue eyes scanning over every mole on your cheeks and the way the dark circles made your eyes stand out even move. The loose strands that fell from your bun when you were leaning over your notebook before quiet tapping on the calculator could be heard if Gavey listened close enough.

Chapter 1

If you want to be tagged when it's out just comment below luvs ♡

divider credit: @uzmacchiato

[green-tea-in-absinthe-bottle]

THE NIGHT BELONGS TO YOU

Blade x fem!reader fanfic, all chapters masterlist

contains wholesome stellaron hunters dynamics, taking care of Blade's wounds and massaging his hands, political drama in the background, smut with Blade at the end, slight doting Kafka x reader and my complete obsession with Blade . Also we are besties with Firefly and Silver Wolf. Found family trope.

LOTS OF PLOT, VERY VERY SLOW BURN, TW BLADE IS AS WILLING TO REST IN PEACE AS IN CANNON,NOBODY DIES, SO DW.

Also reader x secondary character at the beginning for the sake of plot.

Slight differences from cannon possible, english isn't my first language and it's my first fanfic so I will be grateful for criticism

IF YOU ONLY WANT TO READ SMUT JUST SCROLL TO THE LAST CHAPTER

CHAPTER 1 - In turning divine we tangle endlessly  (in this chapter we accidentally get entangled in political drama, Blade appears in second chapter but this one is very important for the story. Reader discovers her special ability that she will use a lot in next chapters, slight romance with side character.)

CHAPTER 2 - The night falls down like heaven (Reader has to run away from all the fractions trying to utilize her gift for their own gain, Stellaron Hunters come to our rescue and save us tho not without their own political motivations)

CHAPTER 3 - Tangled up like branches in a flood (Reader learns to live with stellaron hunters, slowly becomes one of them and has deep connections with her coworkers, Blade being girl dad for FF and SW and Kafka doting on us)

CHAPTER 4 - If your wings won’t find you heaven I will bring it down like an ancient bygone (Our first mission for Staellaron Hunters goes wrong, we have to patch Blade up)

CHAPTER 5 - will come out soon

CHAPTER 6 - will come out soon

CHAPTER 6 - will come out soon

+18 chapter - All of Eden’s vices running through my veins (This snippet contains mostly spice and massaging Blade's hands for him, reader knows Blade for a long time already and they have close relationship)

[jokeroutsubs]

[📝ENG Translation] FestiVal 202: Novi val (New wave)

An article by RTV Slovenia and an interview with Bojan Cvjetićanin from Val 202, both originally published on 19.03.2025.

English translation by @kurooscoffee, proofreading by @flowerlotus8.

Article translation and audio snippet below the cut 👇

FestiVal 202: Novi val (New wave)

On June 6th, music will take over the capital! Val 202, in collaboration with Kino Šiška, presents FestiVal 202 – a unique festival event that brings together the best of the Slovenian music scene in one place.

This first festival project by Val 202 and Kino Šiška continues the mission of public radio and supporting high-quality Slovenian music. FestiVal 202 is for all music lovers – regardless of age!

The stage will be bursting with unforgettable energy, featuring performances by Joker Out, Koala Voice, Jet Black Diamonds, and many more.

Photo by: Val 202 and RTV SLO

In addition to fabulous concerts, a diverse accompanying program is planned. A rich selection of food and drinks will ensure a complete sensory experience. At every turn, something special awaits you – surprises, creative corners, various games, and a space for relaxed socialising.

They are dedicating the first edition of the festival to the outstanding Slovenian music scene, which will captivate visitors of all ages at Ljubljana’s Križanke. Whether this is your first festival experience or you’re a seasoned festival-goer, FestiVal 202 promises to be an unforgettable event!

More information coming soon – stay tuned and don’t miss the first edition of this festival, which will write a new chapter in the Slovenian music story!

Tickets are available on Eventim.si

Bojan Cvjetićanin for Val 202 (19.03.2025)

Bojan: A festival is essentially a very specific form of event and gathering, I would say, in general. It’s an event that suddenly brings together completely different people from all walks of life. To some extent, they are united by their taste in music, but nowadays, festivals are quite diverse, offering everything from electronic music to rock, folk, and a mix of it all in one festival.

So, in reality, it gathers different people from all over the world—or, in Slovenia’s case, mostly from across the country—and we literally see a spectrum of what people are. What youth is. We see all subcultures, all genres… But in most cases, the best part is that we see them together.

So, I would say that a festival is a zone of peace that naturally brings everyone together, where all masks and barriers simply fall away. We are quite "bare" as people when we sleep in tents, fight for a bottle of water in the morning, or try to get a spot in the shower. Everything returns to a very primal level, and… if a festival is well-organised, it truly becomes a beautiful oasis of peace.

[mangotangerine]

inm ch43 snippet

I don't know that I'm going to get the chapter out in time for the appropriate Vox Humiliation Week day, so here's one of two scenes (under the cut):

“No, not like that,” Alastor sighs from where he stands in the middle of the living room, Vox on his hands and knees at his feet. “You have to—you’re doing it wrong.”

Vox gives Alastor an incredulous look, because he’s not supposed to talk. Dogs don’t talk.

“Bark bark,” Vox says instead.

With another heavy sigh, Alastor rolls his eyes. “I told you, that’s not—you’re too large of a dog to bark like that. It’d be more like a… a low woof woof,” Alastor says, sounding more like a dog than any dog Vox has ever met.

“Woof woof,” Vox says, an attempt to copy Alastor. His fiancé makes a complicated face—Vox knows that face, that’s the ‘you did something really stupid and I don’t want to be mean about it but it’s just so stupid, so dumb, wow’ face.

“Better,” Alastor says, sounding pained.

Vox sits back on his heels, giving Alastor a dry look.

“Dogs don’t—they wouldn’t sit like that,” Alastor says, then shakes his head. “Never mind. Let’s move on. I got—sit. Stay.” He leaves the room and returns quickly with a bag.

Of dog treats.

Are you fucking kidding me, Vox wants to say, but he’s a method actor. He keeps his human words inside.

“I’m going to teach you tricks,” Alastor says. “If you’re good, you get a treat.”

I don’t want fucking Milk-Bones, Vox thinks to himself. At least he bought the brand name shit.

Alastor pulls an honest-to-god clicker out of his pocket, and Vox feels his mouth drop open. Alastor mistakes it as a bid for treats, because he says, “No, you have to do the trick first.”

I love this man so fucking much, what is wrong with me?

Alastor gives him a command and Vox follows it flawlessly. He expects the Milk-Bone—not that he’d actually eat it… probably, anyway—but Alastor makes a frustrated noise instead.

“Dogs wouldn’t—dogs don’t speak human—you wouldn’t know what I mean right away. You have to—you have to pretend.”

Vox exhales sharply, then smiles placatingly at Alastor. His fiancé narrows his eyes, gaze wary. “You know that’s aggressive body language, right? I mean—well, you’re not showing teeth yet, but… dogs don’t smile. Like that.”

“How do dogs smile, then?” Vox asks, eyebrow raised.

“Shhh,” Alastor hisses. “Don’t talk, you’re ruining it.”

I’m ruining it?!

“Dogs don’t smile, it’s—I mean, if it were a cat, the… the slow blink they do. That’s a smile. For a dog, it’s more of a tail wag sort of situation. Anyway. Roll over.”

Vox cocks his head to the side and stares at Alastor like he didn’t understand. Alastor stares at him for a long moment before he frowns, and says again, “Roll over.”

Again, Vox sits—stands?—exists on his hands and knees as if he does not understand Alastor’s English words.

“Roll over,” Alastor says again.

“You’re supposed to demonstrate, I think,” Vox says.

“Dogs—”

“—don’t talk, yeah. Baby, I feel like you’re not really getting what this is supposed to be about.”

“You’re role playing an animal,” Alastor says, eyebrows furrowed. “I’m role playing as the owner.”

“It’s supposed to be like… a kinky sex thing, you know?”

Alastor makes a horrified face. “With animals?!” he yelps, scandalized.

[mapengen-com]

little snippet of chapter 3 (penguins)

(the whole chapter will be out tomorow on ao3, so this is me just spoiling you a little :))

They said their goodbyes before Mapi walked into the facilities, not wanting to melt into a puddle of tears once again in a single weekend. She thought she would be hearing Elisa’s laugh from afar, but there wasn’t much noise around. 

So it was pretty much of a surprise when she entered the locker room and saw Elisa sitting on Ingrid’s cubby, her little legs swinging on the edge as she watched how the Norwegian moved around with such naturality that no one could tell she had been there for just a few weeks. Her little penguin plushie was right on her lap.

As if it ran in their blood, she liked to babble just as much as Mapi liked to yap, so the Spaniard just leaned against the lockers, arms crossed, watching Elisa talk her heart out at Ingrid like she was the most fascinating person in the world, her tiny hands emphasizing every word in an animated mix of Spanish, Catalan, and whatever English she had picked up.

Ingrid, to her credit, listened intently, nodding at the right moments even though Mapi was pretty sure she wasn’t catching half of it. But she never interrupted, never looked confused. She just hummed in agreement every time Elisa paused, as if she had somehow mastered the art of responding without actually knowing what was going on.

“You don’t understand a word, do you?” Mapi smirked, shaking her head. 

“I get the general idea,” Ingrid finally glanced up, her expression amused but a little sheepish.

“Oh yeah?” She arched an eyebrow. “What’s she saying, then?”

“Uh… She’s telling me about…” Ingrid looked back at Elisa, who was waiting expectantly. She hesitated, then sighed in defeat. “Okay, no, I have no idea.”

[sailtomarina]

Written for Day 1 - Obliviate - of @dhrmonth, Chapter 1 of Hermione Memoria is available to read on AO3! 

Hermione Memoria Masterlist

.・゜゜・  ・゜゜・．  ｡･ﾟﾟ･  ･ﾟﾟ･｡

The first time it happened, she was at a football field.

She’d been invited by some friends to their daughter’s first home game. Hermione wasn’t usually one for sports, never had been growing up, but she’d been swept up into the excitement the longer she stayed. The book she’d brought sat forgotten in her bag.

The parents had rushed down to the field to congratulate their kid on her win, Hermione lingering behind to give the family their space. Standing on the pitch, clumps of dirt kicked up from the action, she was struck with an intense, verdant perfume. Instead of rectangular goals and painted lines, she envisioned towering hoops and blurry figures dashing across the sky at impossible speeds.

As suddenly as the images appeared, they vanished. She shook her head, blinking rapidly.

How odd.

The second time it happened, Hermione was walking through a trendy neighbourhood with a bag full of books slung over one shoulder. She’d stumbled across the area by chance, as she did from time to time, and explored the odd little shops full of even odder baubles. The people here dressed differently, too, with cloaks of all cuts and colours. She even considered picking one up for herself in a lovely shade of light purple, but changed her mind at the last second. Where would she even wear it?

She’d caught a melody in the air, a familiar warble she couldn’t place. It pulled her forward and down the street until she stood in front of a small music store.

“Who is that?” she asked the man behind the counter.

He looked at her with a bored expression. “I must be getting old if you don’t recognise Celestina Warbeck.”

“Oh, no. I wouldn’t say that,” she hurried to assure him. “I’m terrible with artist names, song titles. I just thought it sounded familiar.”

When she went home later that evening, she couldn’t find any music by one Celestina Warbeck, but maybe she’d misspelt the name, or misheard him.

The third instance occurred when she was feeling particularly vulnerable. It wasn’t often that none of her usual passions caught her interest. She was generally a happy person. But, there were those rare moments, like now, that staring at her bookshelf elicited none of the usual joyful anticipation, drinking coffee failed to satisfy the odd ache in her chest, and waking up from a nap only resulted in a greater headache than she had before lying down.

Her footsteps led her out the front door. If solitude didn’t work, then maybe the company of strangers would snap her out of whatever funk this was.

She paused in front of her favourite pottery shop. It had been some time since she’d last perused their wares, and it was her firm belief that one could never own enough mugs.

“Hermione?”

The voice lilted pleasantly on the ear, not-quite British, but close. Scottish, perhaps? The woman to whom it belonged stared at her wide-eyed, like she’d seen a ghost. A pang of unease pulsed through Hermoine at the familiarity of that look and use of her name. This woman obviously recognised her, but she couldn’t say the same.

“Yes? Do I know you?”

She carefully took in straight, black hair that shone like silk and almond-shaped eyes in a lovely chocolate brown. Those eyes fluttered across Hermione’s figure.

“It’s Cho, from school. Don’t you recognise me?”

Hermione strained to remember her classmates. Her English boarding school days had been idyllic, but she hadn’t thought back to that part of her life in some time. Images and snippets of conversation flitted rapidly by, but not once did she pick out Cho. “I’m sorry, I really don’t. I didn’t really maintain any connections from Wycombe. I’m flattered you remember me, though!”

Cho jerked her head back, like she’d heard something upsetting. Her back, too, stiffened. “Wycombe,” she repeated.

Hermione thought she must have missed something. “Yes…you said you knew me from school, didn’t you? Or were you referring to Oxford?”

The woman looked Hermione over once more, eyes narrowing, lips twisting.

What is her problem?

She finally seemed to make up her mind as she sighed, her dark eyes now softened into an expression Hermione wasn’t sure how to read. “No, you were right. I’m just surprised you don’t remember, is all.”

Hermione felt terrible. She knew her memory was spotty from time to time, but to forget someone who obviously knew her seemed particularly egregious. At the same time, a small part of her resented the woman for her own growing guilt. Maybe there was a good reason why Hermione had forgotten all about her.

As if reading the change in the air, Cho stepped back with a tight smile.

“It was nice seeing you again, Hermione. I’ll let you get on your way.” She left before Hermione could think of how to respond.

.・゜゜・  ・゜゜・．  ｡･ﾟﾟ･  ･ﾟﾟ･｡

When he got the message, Draco could only sit and stare blankly at the words.

Hermione was alive.

Harry’s letter didn’t say much, but he did extend an invite to join him on his trip as long as Draco could control himself.

His jaw clenched at the reproach. Control, as if Draco were incapable of subtlety. As if he hadn’t torn the country apart trying to find her, to search for any clue as to where she might have gone and why. There’d been no warning beforehand. One day, she kissed him like she always did before heading to work, and then the next, she was gone.

At first he’d been convinced someone had abducted her. Hermione had no shortage of enemies from both before and after the war. There were still inmates in Azkaban who cursed her name and promised to make her pay the moment they escaped. Then there were the remaining blood purists who publicly decried her rising popularity as an activist and politician.

Someone else had done this. He was sure of it.

But the longer he looked for answers and the more people he talked to, the greater the voice that demanded she’d up and left of her own volition fought to be heard. And who could blame her? The Ministry continued to fight progress, and her relationship with Draco inspired countless articles that described her as a hypocrite.

“Try not to be obvious. We’ll see how she reacts before saying anything,” Harry said, fixing Draco with a stern look.

He scoffed, annoyed the man thought him so incapable. “Tell yourself that.”

Harry hummed, though his eyes betrayed his scepticism.

Their portkey landed them just around the corner from the pottery shop where she’d been sighted. According to Cho, Hermione was completely ignorant of her magic. There’d been no wand in sight, none of the telltale markers of a witch, nor the wariness someone who’d gone through a war as she had would have at meeting a seeming stranger.

Chances were low that she’d make a reappearance at the same location, but they stationed themselves in a cafe along the same route. It was the sort of spot Hermione of the past would have adored–all brick exterior, hand-carved tables, overstuffed chairs, and earthen mugs big enough to require two hands.

They sat by the window, but at the far end so they could watch both the street and entrance without being immediately noticed.

They didn’t have to wait long.

Draco noticed her first. That in itself was expected–he used to be tuned in to every move she made. The slightest change of expression, the emotion in a single sigh.

He nudged his partner, and they watched as the curly-haired woman they both loved pulled the door open and walked up to chat with the employee like she’d been here a million times before. She probably had.

The moment she made her order, she turned to find a seat. Draco tensed as her eyes scanned the room. She used to pick him out of a crowd like an invisible string connected their souls, though she’d always joked there was no way he could hide his head of hair when he pointed out the skill.

Unseeing eyes passed over them before she chose a seat only two away from theirs, and Draco felt despair all over again.

She hadn’t recognised them.

She didn’t know him.

Chapters: 1/9 Fandom: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy Characters: Hermione Granger, Draco Malfoy, Harry Potter, Cho Chang Additional Tags: Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Not Beta Read, Obliviate | Memory Charm (Harry Potter), Mystery, Suspense, Eventual Romance, POV Hermione Granger, POV Draco Malfoy, Confused Hermione Granger, Pining Draco Malfoy, Protective Draco Malfoy Summary:

Hermione leads a happy life, one full of friends, books, and all the unique coffee mugs she can find. There are moments, however, where she's struck by a sharp sensation of remembering...something.

Or, perhaps, someone.