kamizama - Tumblr blog

kamizama · 1 year ago

Text

Falling For You?

{Masterlist}

Pairing- Draco Malfoy x Fem Potter Reader

Request- No

Summary - You’re starting to notice a change in Draco Malfoy’s behavior which is strange because ever since day one he has had it out for you and your twin brother Harry. What will happen when you are hurt badly during a quidditch match causing you to fall from a fatal height? This takes place in the 5th year. No use of Y/N.

Genre- Angst, Fluff

Warnings - Blood, Angst, Potential enemies to lovers? multiple Pov, swearing, mentions of nausea, fainting, violence, physical fighting, I think that's it,

A/N - This is my first ever fic, so I hope you enjoy it. Sorry I haven’t posted much life has just gotten a bit out of hand recently, but I have managed to produce this and its finally time to share it! so enjoy.

Word count - 5.7k

Growing up without parents and living with your abusive Aunt and Uncle with their Spoilt Brat for a kid wasn’t easy; and you honestly didn’t think you would have survived without your twin brother. For the longest time you too were inseparable. You were each other’s only family left. And that’s why you were crushed with guilt every time you look at those shining grey eyes.

It was no secret that Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy were enemies. Most people despised Malfoy due to his cruel demeanor and outdated world views, where he saw himself on some pedestal above everyone else; which he would reticule you from if you dare thought otherwise. Of course you were one of the people who disliked him. How could you not be?

You’d just wish your heart would listen to your brain when thought of him. He was a cruel person who found fun in making other people’s lives difficult, especially you and your friends. So why did you find your eyes lingering on him for a second too long? Looking around the great hall at dinner just to get a glimpse of him. It wasn’t right, and you knew it. But it didn’t help that he had really grown into his looks and gotten a lot taller over the summer break. And while there is an undouble rivalry between Malfoy and both Potter twins since the first year, you couldn’t help but notice that Malfoy had become slightly more tolerable lately. He would make less snarky and unnecessary comments, start less arguments and not take the arguments that he did start as far as he used to. Was he getting tired of it? Or was he maybe he was finally maturing. Either way, you were grateful for it as you have been seated next to him for potions until the end of the year, courtesy of Snape’s seating plan.

In fact, you had noticed that ever since you had been seated next to him at the beginning of the year, he was slowly becoming more tolerable, and you were becoming less annoyed by his presence.

You had explained your thoughts to Hermione stating that maybe he was ‘growing on you’ but she just replied saying that it was more likely that he was just ‘wearing you down’, to which you chuckled along with.

For a while now, more times than you’d like to admit was spent dwelling on your changing feelings for him. A part of you hoped that he was perhaps changing and that maybe it could lead to something between the two of you. You had to admit he was funny at times and had slipped up and shown you a different side of him before. Only in subtle ways like picking something you’d dropped on the floor and handing it to you without any snarky comment or passing you something you were looking for. If anyone else did this, you wouldn’t think twice about it. But it wasn’t anyone. It was Draco Malfoy.

You were pulled out of your own thoughts by Ron leaning upwards to look over you and your brothers head to see the Slytherin table

“Can’t wait to wipe that that stupid smug smirk off of Draco’s face” Ron said through gritted teeth as he began to sit back down still keeping an eye on the Slytherin table behind you where Draco sat in his quidditch uniform talking with his teammates.

“He’s been extra cocky today about winning this match” Ron grumbled as he turned to the food in front of him.

“Tell me about it” Harry sarcastically sighed “I had to deal with him and Blaise all of first period” Harry grumbled. You peered over your shoulder to see the loud commotion happening behind you, which mainly consisted of the Slytherin quidditch team chanting about them winning the upcoming match. It didn’t take a genius to tell they were overly confident.

“No worries, we’ve trained for this,” you said turning back to the table and rolling up your sleeves. As much as you like your quidditch uniform its arm sleeve length got in the way when you were trying to eat.

“One more hour until we can destroy them!” Ron said with a laugh to which Harry returned with a grin.

“You both are so competitive” Hermione chimed in as she rolled her eyes before looking back at the book in her hands.

“It’s almost concerning” you chuckled in agreement.

“Don’t act like you don’t want to see them lose” Ron replied with a tone making it sound like he was defending himself.

“I want to see us win” you explained.

“How’s that any different?” Ron questioned with a mouth full of food and a raised brow.

“Because she’s finding pleasure in her achievements rather than others loses” Hermione said firmly closing and placing her book on the table, to which Ron replied with another eye roll.

“Yeah, but it Slytherin” Harry said as if he was to be proving some point, but you and Hermione looked at each other then back towards him as he missed the point all together.

“So?” you replied.

“So, I guess it’s alright to be happy when they lose” Harry said with uncertainty in his voice because as he was saying it out loud, he was beginning to hear how he may be in the wrong.

“Don’t get me wrong I want us to win, but I think you two are a bit too hateful towards Slytherin. I mean sometimes you both say something I’d expect a Slytherin to say about a Gryffindor. Which is definitely not a good look”. You explained, hoping to talk some sense into them so try and defuse the rising tension between the house that always comes before a big quidditch match. Harry and Ron didn’t reply, they just shared a look between them realizing that you may have a point; as they do get quite competitive.

The conversation quickly changed as Oliver Wood appeared and made the team gather around and talk strategy.

You wouldn’t call yourself a confident person, but usually before a quidditch you would feel fine. Prepared. You were a strong player, and everyone knew it. However, today you weren’t feeling as prepared as you normally are, and you were unsure as to why. You just had a bad feeling about the match.

As you walked out onto the field with your team, broom in hand, the icy wind almost imminently pricked at your skin. You looked up and saw that the sky had been painted with all different shades of grey clouds, indicating an upcoming storm.

Everyone took their positions on the field and as you did you saw some of the Slytherin boys whisper something to each other while looking over at you and some of your teammates. This made you feel even more uneasy, and you tried to shake it off, but it kept dwelling on you that something was going to go wrong.

The game began and everything went as expected aside from Slytherin taking the lead by a few points but nothing that couldn’t be overturned by the end of the game. It soon started to lightly rain, a sprinkle of water coating the stadium, making it a bit harder to see since the wind was moving the rain into your eyes.

As the score got closer everyone understandably got more competitive and began to push the boundaries a tad, such as shoving someone a little harder than what is normally allowed during a match, but no student would ever report this to a teacher. It was like an unspoken rule that when the game got close the so could the players.

You had flown to the side of the field after successfully passing the quaffle over to Oliver while avoiding being knocked off your broom. Oliver had managed to gain Gryffindor points with the quaffle pushing the score so that Gryffindor was now ahead of Slytherin. This did not sit well with the two Slytherins that were on your back trying to prevent you from passing the quaffle over to Oliver just moments ago.

One of them was Marcus Flint. And although you couldn’t see the glare, he gave you from behind, you could almost feel it. Only a minute or two later something sharp caught the corner of your eye. You looked over to your right, but it had disappeared as quickly as it had appeared. You had shrugged it off and continued to play the game but was shortly interrupted by a small, very bright blue flash across the field. You flew up high staring wide-eyed trying to find it again eyes scanning everywhere, hoping someone else had also seen it and that you weren’t going crazy. But you didn’t have much time to ponder as soon the bright light was headed straight towards you once again. You instantly flew away, occasionally checking behind you to see if it was still on your trail. Adrenaline coursed through your body as you flew at full speed before slowing down once you realized that it was no longer behind you.

Shocked from the surprise of it all, you weren’t paying attention until you heard what sounded like distressed arguing. You saw Fred and Seamus from afar, you squinted trying to figure out what they were doing as it looked like they were either arguing or very worried. You began to make you way over there ignoring your surroundings, heading straight towards them, but before you could make it there someone came out of nowhere and sped past you, nearly knocking you off your broom. It was unlike anyone to race that fast at someone during the match so high off the ground even with the unspoken rule. You continued forward when once again someone flew right in front of you. You suddenly came to a halt and spun your head around to see what was happening behind you. You could feel the cold, icy air prick at your skin and make your nose pink and sore. Your hair was blowing rapidly in the wind, impairing your vision. You looked over and saw Ron from afar clutching his upper left arm with Oliver beside him. As you were about to fly over to them to make sure Ron was alright, when something sped past you, hitting you on the right side of your head.

It knocked you hard, causing you to face forward again and even jolt a little bit on your broom. You were still able to maintain a steady grip with both hands on her broom; but that was quickly forgotten about when you began to feel a wave of nausea and dizziness. It quickly became a struggle to focus on anything, the world felt like it was spinning and your whole body felt numb aside from a slight tingle.

But the numbness didn’t last long as soon a strong burning sensation formed above your right eyebrow. Still accompanied by the nausea, after only a few seconds you felt something wet run down the right side of your face. But this wasn’t the cold rain that was pouring all around you. This was warm and running fast.

You slowly brought your hand up to the source of the pain and brought it back down only to find it covered in a bright red liquid. As if on cue, your hearing began to fade and soon you couldn’t hear anything around you; not your teammates, not the crowd, or even the cold wind that had been floating around all week. The only thing you could hear was your own racing heart. Your breaths were slow and deep as you tried to stay conscious, while your heartbeat was as fast as ever. The rain that was already trickling down you only helped spread blood down your face beginning to cover your quidditch uniform.

Only a few seconds prior, Hermione had noticed the small flash fly across the field once again, but this time it went towards you, and seemingly hit you before you could see it coming. Hermione jumped out of her seat the second she saw you get hit. She was squinting her eyes and leaning ever so slightly over the banister trying to see what happened. Neville was quickly by her side using his binoculars to try to see what was happening. Hermione glances to her side at Nevilles binoculars and quickly snatches the binoculars from Nevilles grasp and places them before her eyes. Completely ignoring the fact that they were strapped around his neck, and he was now uncomfortably pulled into her personal space. Hermione saw your face slowly turn red, and she imminently dropped the binoculars, allowing Neville to stand up straight once more. “Oh Merlin” she whispered to herself, but loud enough for Neville and Luna who had also joined her side to hear and it, make them both look at her, unsure of what she saw.

Unaware as to what everyone else was facing, Harry was speeding along the perimeter of the field, not far from the ground with Draco to his Left. Their knees collided and both of their gazes were strongly focused on the small golden snitch flying not far in front of them. The light rain and the air resistant due to their fast speed was causing them both slightly to squint into order to see. They both would push against each other with their shoulders in hopes that the other would fall off course. Their hair flew rapidly behind them as they tilted their heads forward, both trying to increase their speed. However, Draco’s gaze shifted to the stadium when he heard some loud yelling. But it wasn’t the normal yelling that happened during a quidditch match. This sounded like panic. He couldn’t make out what was being said but when he looked above Harry as he saw the Gryffindor podiums crowds’ gazes fixated on something behind and above him; and judging by their expression and stances with their arms pointing at whatever was causing the commotion, it wasn’t good. Draco only heard the yelling because he and Harry were flying right beside the crowd, however, Harry seemed to be too focused on the snitch flying just out of his reach to take interest in the sound. Draco turned his head to his left and after a quick scan of the field and the people on it, he saw what the commotion was about.

Draco’s shoulder sunk and his eyes were wide fixated on the image in the distance. He wasn’t sure if what he was seeing was real. He saw you on your broom way up in the air. But you weren’t flying around. Instead, you sat up on your broom with only one hand gripping the broomstick. Your opposing hand was held to the side of your head, the palm painted red. His stomach dropped when he saw her face. Blood was pouring down the right side of it, covering the dazed expression. You were looking slightly over your right shoulder, towards the Gryffindor podium and crowd, which he was under. That’s probably why he heard them yelling. They got the best view of what had happened and started to panic.

You felt a light head, and suddenly the overwhelming burning pain didn’t matter anymore. The frequency of your blinks increased significantly, as you tried to stay awake. You could taste the rain as your mouth hung open, desperately trying to take deeper breaths. But soon you realized that it was no good. Black dots began to appear, and you felt yourself falling. The last thing you saw was your broom only a few feet above you.

Draco eye widened and he was quickly filled to the brim with panic, as he saw your figure in the distance go limp and fall to the side, beginning to make its way to the ground. Within less than a second of your body falling, Draco’s broomstick was pointed your way and just as before he was tilting his head and body forward increasing his speed. His gaze was focused the unconscious body in a bright red and gold Gryffindor uniform; and just like for you before, everything around him was a blur and he could only hear clouded muffles of what he would assume is the crowd being loud as per usual; not that he gave any thought to it, he didn’t care, in fact it seemed as if for the first time in his life he didn’t care about anything else; he was only focused on getting to you on time.

Harry noticed Draco’s absence when he went to make a quick glance between him and the golden snitch. But as Harry noticed he was no longer next to him he was quick to notice a Slytherin uniform blowing in the wind flying away from him. Harry slowed his chase after the snitch and took notice of what Draco was chasing after. Rather than who he was chasing after, Panic swept through the boy as he was quick to follow Draco’s path, but Draco was significantly ahead of him.

Flying through the rain at such a speed made the rain drops feel as if ice was pinching at Draco’s pale skin, but nether the less Draco was able to catch Potter’s limp body before you went crashing onto the ground. He held a tight grip, but the impact of catching you and trying to hold you on his broomstick made him lose control of his broom and he began to make his way to the ground. He was able to pull his broom upwards right before he collided with the ground, softening the fall for both students. Once you both hit the ground, Draco was thrown over you and landed roughly 5 meters in front of her. You were laying half on your stomach and half on your right side on the soft, wet grass. Your hair which you had freshly washed this morning, was scattered over your face, absorbing blood from the small pool that was forming under your rested head. Draco on the other hand found himself fully on his stomach with his head facing to his left, with his left shoulder taking most of the impact. Both uniforms were muddy and blowing slightly in the wind as they lay there on the wet grass.

It didn’t take long for both teams to make their way to the scene, Oliver arriving first with Ron by his side clutching his upper left arm. They both kneeled by your side; Oliver gently pulling you onto your back, revealing what was once clear skin framing a soft smile, but was now a blood-covered face decorated with scratches. Oliver and Ron are both taken back by the sight, eyes scanning over the injury on your head. But before Oliver could even think of what to do next the whole Gryffindor quidditch team had made their way over and began crowding around them. Harry arrives at the scene and stumbles off his broom running and forcefully pushing his way through his teammates, only coming to a small stop when he finally sees his blooded-up sister on the floor; half her face covered in blood with her hair stuck in it, and the parts of her face that somehow weren’t bloody, were pale and lifeless. Before anyone could say anything to him, he was on his knees next to her, with tear-filled eyes and his hands clasping over her forehead in an attempt to try and stop the bleeding. He tried to reach for his wand to use a healing spell but cursed under his breath as he moved his hand back to your head after feeling his empty pocket. A reminder of the rule stating that no personal magical objects can be found or used by any player during a match.

Draco was woken by his teammates pulling him up to his knees after he was briefly knocked out from the impact with the ground, and he was very winded; but he didn’t even assess or take note of the damage done to himself before he began carefully making his way up to the small crowd of both Gryffindor and Slytherin quidditch players, trying to peek through. By the time he made it through the crowd, he only got a glimpse before he spun his head around at the sound of an angry professor storming over to the scene.

“Move aside!” Professor Snape called out while waving his arms out to push anyone out of his way. He was followed by Professor McGonigal who had her hands holding up her robes so she could hurry over. Behind her were Hermione, Luna, Nevile and a hand full of other people with worried expressions written all over their faces. Everyone stepped aside to let the professors in. Harry looked up at them with tear-soaked eyes, his hands were on his twin sister’s face; one on her cut and the other on her jawline, holding her face. For a second Harry could have sworn he saw Professor Snape’s eyes widen with concern. Within a second Snape was by Harrys side, he pulled out his wand and softly murmured a healing spell causing the slash on her forehead to slowly heal over. Professor McGonigal began questioning the students around her about what had caused this incident, but her tone made the questions sound like accusations. Relief filled Harrys body and he let out a breath he didn’t even know he was holding. His sobs calmed down and he felt a hand on his shoulder, and he looked over and it was Hermione who gave him a reassuring smile; telling him it would be alright. Draco also felt a gush of relief wash over him, and unfortunately for him, it didn’t go unnoticed. Hermione gave him a questioning look as she saw the relief on his face when he saw that her dear friend way going to be alright. Draco noticed Hermione’s stare when he made eye contact with her. Panic boiled within him at being caught and his cheeks blushed a little from embarrassment and he immediately looked away and avoided her gaze, staring at the grass below him acting as if he didn’t care.

Harry returned his gaze to his sister who was being picked up by Snape. Snape was now standing up holding your still unconscious body in his arms.

“I suggest you follow me to the infirmary Wesley” Snape suggested, referring to the fact Ron was clutching his upper left arm with a little bit of blood seeping out of it.

“You got hit?! Are you alright Ron?” Hermione explained, turning to see the state he was in.

“Better than her” Ron shrugged referring to you as he made his way over to Snape with the intent to join his trip to the infirmary.

“Malfoy?” Snape said in his usual cold tone.

“Huh?” Draco said, looking up a little surprised as he was in his head and not paying attention. Snape noticed that the boy was oblivious, and he let out a small disappointing sigh before replying.

“Care to join us at the infirmary?” It almost sounded like a statement rather than a question because of Snapes usual cold tone. Draco looked down at his dirtied uniform and bruised hands. He will admit that his arm and back did hurt from the landing and he was sure he had a fair share of bruises underneath his uniform, and as much as he would like to follow, he knew that if he did he would want to check up on you, and that would draw a lot of unwanted attention and suspicion to the relationship between you and him, and after saving you there was enough speculation coming his way, he didn’t need anymore.

“Uh- no I think I’m alright” He shrugged. Without any further questioning Snape turned around and began walking back to the castle accompanied by Ron. Harry stumbled to his feet and quickly began to follow Snape but was stopped by Professor McGonigal placing her arm in front of him.

“I think you should stay; I need to have a word with you and everyone else here to figure out what happened today”, and with that Harry sighed, he wanted to protest and go with his sister, but he knew that she was in good hands; and he too wanted to know what causes her sister to bleed all over the Quidditch field.

Professor McGonigal took the Gryffindor team to the side of the field to question them first, leaving the Slytherin team plus Hermione, Luna and Neville alone, while the crowd was told to go back to the great hall.

There was only small chatter between the students before a few Slytherin students began chuckling. “Surely this means we win right? I mean we managed to get two of the Gryffindor players out of commission.” Marcus Flint chuckled rather loudly to his friends.

Hermione shot them a quick glare, but they were seemingly unfazed by it. She knew they had something to do with what happened today. Draco, who had been standing around in silence avoiding any questions from his teammates while holding his still sore arm, shot a firm glare towards the Marcus Flint, having also caught on that he was up to something.

“What?” Marcus mockingly questioned when he noticed Draco’s cold glare.

“What did you do?” Draco asked coldly as he began walking over to the boy.

“What does it look like, I won us the game mate!” Marcus chuckled while looking around at his friends who were also seemingly enjoying this.

“You cheated!” Hermione exclaimed, “I saw a small flash of blue light move around the field”.

“And what does that prove?” Marcus replied, with his horrific smile hung high.

“You used a spell; you’ve got your wand with you” Hermione pointed out gesturing to his wand that couldn’t quite fit properly into his pocket.

“Yeah, and what are you going to do about its Granger” Marcus stated as he began walking into Hermione’s personal space, towering over her in an attempt to make her feel threatened.

“You put two people in the infirmary!” Nevile chimed in trying to see if Marcus had any remorse for his actions.

“Congrats the boy can count” Marcus laughed while waving his hand in the air mockingly which was followed by laughter from his surrounding friends. “It’s not like anyone is going to miss those two” Marcus scoffed as he turned back to his friend.

Draco glanced at the red stained grass then back up to Marcus who was chuckling alone with his friends like nothing had even happened. The boy was showing no remorse, so he wasn’t going to either. Hermione saw something change in Draco’s eyes, they suddenly went dark and before she could say anything he was clenching his fists and angrily walking up to Marcus. The second Marcus turned to acknowledge Draco’s precents, Draco swung his fist violently and fast at the boy’s left cheek, causing him to stumble to the ground. The pain in Draco shoulder was long gone, covered by his anger for the boy in front of him.

“The fuck is your problem!” Marcus exclaimed as he stood up and swung back at the blonde boy. Cries were heard from the people around them as Draco took the punch given to him, but almost immediately returned it and managed to push Marcus back to the ground. Marcus brought Draco down with him and they continued to swing at each other, grabbing each other’s collars and pushing the other down. It wasn’t until Draco managed to pin Marcus beneath him and was mercilessly slamming his fists into the boy’s face before he was pulled back. Arms wrapped around him as he tried to push against them.

“Stop! He’s not worth it” Oliver wood exclaimed as he was holding Draco back along with Fred Weasley.

“You Piece of shit!” Marcus spat at Draco with blood coming out of his mouth, while trying to reach him; struggling against Blaise and Goyel grip.

“ENOUGH!” Professor McGonigal exclaimed as she glared at the two boys, making them stop struggling to free themselves.

“The Two of you, my office NOW!” McGonigal glared at the boys as they slowly stumbled to their feet with hung their heads low as they walked by her side to her office. An angry glare was exchanged between the boys ever so often as they made their way back to the castle.

“What on earth has gotten into everyone today!?” Oliver exclaimed looking around at all the stunned students.

“Malfoy beating the living shit out of Flint, now that's something” Seamus answered, not hiding his amusement

“Yeah, but why?” Oliver continued

“Because he cheated during the match, He was the reason your team got hurt” Hermione Chimed in.

“What?!, That bastard!” Harry spat.

“Why would Malfoy be so upset about Slytherin cheating? Wouldn’t put it past him to do it himself” Fred replied.

“Merlin knows” Seamus sighed.

“So are we just going to ignore the elephant in the room” George asked, causing everyone to send him questioning looks.

“Which one” Seamus chuckled.

“The fact that ‘The prince of Slytherin ‘abandoned chasing the golden snitch to catch and most likely save the life of the one and only ‘princess of Gryffindor’”. George explained. To which Fred replied with a small chuckle “well when you say it like that”.

“Does seem a bit curious don’t you think” Luna gently stated.

Harry shared a confused look with Hermione, both acknowledging that they needed to talk privately.

“Whatever, I’ll discuss this later with McGonigal; we should pack-up and clear out of here before this rain becomes a storm” Oliver said he began making his way off the court, still pissed about how the match went down. Everyone soon followed him.

Everyone had been told to go about their day as usual, but nothing about what had happened earlier was usual. Hermione had gone to speak to professor McGonigal about her suspicions involving Marcus Flint and his cheating. To which McGonigal was able to confirm when assessing the recent spells used through his wand. Quidditch matches had been suspended for the month due to foul play and to say everyone was upset was an understatement. Harry had spent most of the day by your side, with Ron as company. A few hours later you had woken to a killer headache and harry was quick to inform Hermione so she could come and see you, which of course she did and used the time to fill you in on what had happened.

You were jaw-dropped shocked when Hermione informed you that the Draco Malfoy had flown over to you on a whim to catch you. Not only that but he had beaten up Flint because he was the one who was cheating and hurt you and Ron. None of this made any sense but for a moment it made your heart flutter with the idea that he actually cared. To some degree at least. But to be fair he must care quite a bit to have been the first person to rush over to help you. If you weren’t in so much pain, you would be eager to get out of the infirmary just so you could see him in potions but unfortunately that didn’t look like it was happening anytime soon.

Hermione excused herself from your presence and began to make her way to the detention classroom which she had heard Draco had been placed in, leaving a trail of small clicks behind her as her shoes tapped the store floor. The room felt cold and isolating, only accompanied by the sound of rain against the rather large windows.

Hermione slowly stepped towards Draco, where he was sitting on the edge of a crooked chair, silently looking down at his hands. Entering his field of view Hermione waited, expecting some form of acknowledgement but Draco held his gaze on the icepack he was holding in his pale and muddy hands.

Hermione spoke softly, almost as if she was afraid that if she started him, he would disappear. “I heard McGonigal yelling from down the hall” She paused for a moment when he didn’t respond. “How long were you given?”.

“8 weeks” Draco quietly grumbled after a few seconds.

“And Marcus?”

“12.” His tone was empty and careless.

“Makes sense” Hermione said as she stepped closer to the boy, fiddling with her hands.

“She woke up” Hermione quietly commented referring to you. She took note of Draco’s reaction. He had moved his eyes up but stopped before they met with hers and brought them back down to his hand; almost as if he didn’t want them to leave his hand in the first place. It was a small reaction, but it was still there.

Hermione decided to continue figuring he was curious and wasn’t going to respond. “She is doing fine by the way; she’ll be out of the infirmary very soon.” Draco just nodded softly in repose still avoiding her gaze.

“Draco” Hermione said softly and took a step closer, she waited for him to look at her and once he did, she was almost taken back a bit. She had never seen such a plain soft expression him this boy. His face always contained a scowl and a mischievous smirk. She has to blink herself back to reality and out of her thoughts.

“You did a good thing today; you probably saved her life. The fall could have taken her out” Hermione tone was so genuine that Draco didn’t know how to respond.

“So, thank you” Hermione finished softly with a small smile. Draco pressed his lips together in acknowledgement before Hermione turned to walk out the room, leaving Draco alone with his thoughts.

Although Draco hadn’t said much to Hermione, a lot was exchanged, and she knew that she was going to revisit her conversation with you about his change in behavior. Draco was left dreading how mad his father was going to be about his actions, but once he remembered why he did them, his mind shifted, and he didn’t care as much about what his father was going to say, only what he was going to say to you.

740 notes · View notes

kamizama · 1 year ago

Text

❝ WANTED FOR A FATAL ATTRACTION . . . ❞

CHAPTER Ⅰ :- ATTENTION

C.W. f!reader is an attention seeking thief, mentions of killing & execution, implications of s*x (not detailed/sugar coated), reader labelled as freak. Please let me know if I missed anything!

TAGS :- @lu-naes @coconut36 @briarbabyxo @number1morihater @kaiser1ns (comment or dm if you'd like to be tagged!)

You don't know what you did to get such a large bounty on your head. You never killed, never found pleasure in the thought of it. Sure, you stole from the richest and you didn't bother hiding your acts.

It's amusing, how your delicate fingers can just snatch all sorts of things out of pockets. You'd find it humorous when they did catch you, when you made sure they knew that you stole something valuable.

The way their faces would contort into shock and morph into pure anger. It's an interesting reaction, you don't know why it satisfies you so much to be seen as a criminal, a known thief.

Is it the thrill it brings when doing something so fragile? Is it to prove something? You questioned your motives on more than one occasion. But it all goes down to one reason.

Boothill. An infamous outlaw, mostly works for brokers. You could never be like him, of course, you don't know how to handle arms nor do you know how he manages to eliminate people like some useless digits in an equation. But to be known by as many people as him is a need. A great wish that only the brightest star can grant, and that star sure does love to stay hidden.

You just want to be known. To be seen and to have your face stamped on the alley walls of Penacony, the word 'wanted' stated right above your head in heavy red ink. It's an indescribable urge.

You blame the lack of attention you got in your younger years. No matter how many times it's repeated, people are greedy and love to talk about themselves. You're no different. If anything, you're worse. This idea of belonging to yourself and loving yourself so much to the point where you want everyone to know every small thing about you, is a major derivative to becoming popular. Whether in a good or bad way.

You realized this power at a young age. Getting accused of cheating when you really didn't, but instead of having your belly bubble with rage at such an accusation, you felt seen. For the first time. Kids are straightforward, if you look, talk, or act weirdly, they'll label you as a "freak."

You didn't have friends, nor did you want any. Their a hindrance, nothing but pawns in a game you didn't know you were playing. You don't know why you used to think that, maybe it was cause you felt invisible. You didn't like it, but it was peaceful.

You remember smiling when the girl who accused you hissed you name towards the teacher, and then you grinned when all eyes turned to you. With that reaction, people agreed on your crime, and into punishment you went.

Cleaning the classroom for a week and retaking a harder version of the test. You took your time, enjoyed cleaning, enjoyed thinking. After all, you had no parents to go home to, no friend to visit. You lived relying on your pickpocketing skills. Stealing a sandwich from a distracted merchant, hiding an apple in your bag when looking through a store. Water bottles, sweets, juice, gum, anything you can get your sinister hands on.

You had the right to survive, just like everyone else. Even if your way bended the laws, you still had the right. At least that's what you told yourself.

As you grew up, you got smarter, more daring. Unclasping pearl necklaces from necks of rich women while complimenting them, flirting with drunk merchants that are too drunk to realize you snatch a few wads of credit, too naïve to notice, too blind by honeyed words to care.

You'd steal like it's a nine to five. You wake up every morning in your hidden shack that was an abandoned garage, brush your teeth, ruffle your hair, apply what little perfume you have left from the perfume store that you stole from a few years ago. Cool, peachy, and flowery. The scent would turn heads, only to be met with a sinister grin and a wallet out of their pockets and in your very trusty hands.

You'd buy yourself a meal, keep it packed till you get back to your humble abode.

"I'm home…"

You have no one to go back to. But these words always feel brand new when they roll out of your throat, saddened, somber. You know you'll never come home to see anyone, you'd probably be dead or on the run by the time. Every day, every night, it's the same routine.

You grew to like it, enjoy the loop of similar activities. Up until now.

As if a shock, he came in and rearranged the pattern. Forced himself into your idea of a perfect lifestyle. You're not mad, there's a reason you have his wanted poster plastered right next to your mattress on the wall of your home. You're excited to this sudden change. Giggling, you shove the drunkard you were trying to bribe away, causing him to stumble and knock himself out on the hard floor of the saloon.

You know he's here for you, it's clear with that killer smile on his lips. His hands hanging loosely on his gun holster, you pull your bottom lip into the light grip of your teeth, your smile so wide your lip slips from the caress of your wet tongue against the slightly chapped surface.

There he stands, in all his glory. The one and only Boothill. Mechanical body glinting under the yellow bulbs, complex machinery whispering a repetitive whir of pumps pumping and gears turning. Teeth akin to a shark's pointy and pearly. Pupils that rotate, gun's targets eyeing you up and down.

Under his calculated gaze, you feel seen, heard, and understood all within the span of a few seconds. Everyone around you seems non existent, they cower in the dark corners of the saloon as the predator approaches you in clicking heels on a wooden floor.

He thinks you look like a little girl. With your legs kicking the air softly, your hands resting beneath your thighs as you gaze up at him with nothing but wonder and curiosity. He doesn't know if he likes it, he's used to siren lulls of scandalous dances, spending a few hours to relish in the plush of steamy nights with what people would call models, but to him, nothing but discarded digits of pleasure. He doesn't even know why he participates in such acts. He's not a human anymore, can't feel a warm body against his, it itches him. Not being able to touch and feel and caress. It makes him go crazy, often shooting bullets at aging walls when he thinks about it too much.

He likes you. How different you are to him, how new you are to him. He feels like it's okay to slow down just this once. He takes a seat next to you. Resting his elbow on the wooden bar, his fist cushioning his cheek as his eyes stay locked on you. You imitate him. Staring at him just as intently. With just as much wonder.

"Can I buy you a drink, sugar?"

MASTERLIST ⋮ CHAPTER Ⅱ . . .

244 notes · View notes

kamizama · 1 year ago

Text

22K notes · View notes

kamizama · 1 year ago

Text

Legendary [A Broly FanFiction]

As part of the Frieza Force, your assigned role was to track down the legendary Super Saiyan. Travelling through the galaxy is almost second nature to you. The only problem is... you don't even remember where you came from... or who you are...

Wattpad Story Link (if you'd prefer to read it there, I'll be uploading on both Tumblr and Wattpad)

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

177 notes · View notes

kamizama · 1 year ago

Text

─── Sanctuary // B. Katsuki

Bakugou Katsuki x Fem!Reader — Word count: 30k

Content warnings: coworkers -> lovers, eventual smut, all chapters will have their own warnings, commissioned series

Summary: Surely there can be no consequences falling in love with your explosive boss, right? A series following the trials and tribulations of falling in love (deeper, deeper, deeper) with The Great Explosion Murder God Dynamight (but with you, it’s Katsuki, always Katsuki).

Chapter one: In the early morning, my yearning soul laid bare

Chapter two: No grave can hold my body down, I’ll crawl home to her

Chapter three: I slithered here from Eden just to sit outside your door

Chapter four: You’re my sanctuary

───

Bonus chapter: Something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue

588 notes · View notes

kamizama · 1 year ago

Text

i am the sweetest girl to ever exist but unfortunately i’m also evil

7K notes · View notes

kamizama · 1 year ago

Text

dark side of the moon⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ [chapter 1]

Pairing: yakuza!Levi x f!reader

Word count: 4.6k

Summary:

Neo Tokyo, 2235. You’ve escaped the festering wasteland that is Earth for Mars, to a city where only the strong survive, and everybody has secrets. Taking on a job as a hostess, you woo the city’s elite, your smile hiding your own dark past. When your path crosses with Levi Ackerman, said to be the strongest member of the Ackerman yakuza clan, you’re not sure whether to consider him a friend or a foe. Because in this city, nothing is what it seems. And the past never stays buried.

Author's note: I will be using Japanese words and phrases periodically and will have a glossary of terms at the end of the chapter.

Series Content/Warnings: mafia/yakuza AU, flashbacks, slow burn, mystery, cyberpunk, sci fi, non-binary Hange Zoe, eventual smut, dark content, graphic violence and sexual content, minors do not interact!

Chapter Content/Warning: mentions of blood, physical assault

next chapter/masterlist/AO3

Blood is thicker than you thought it would be.

A sea of dark red surrounds you, soaking your clothes and the floor around you.

Someone’s saying your name, but all you can hear is the thunder of your own heart beat.

“Hey. Look at me. Do you remember what I promised? That I was never going to let anything bad happen to us again. We swore that we would always be there for each other.

No matter what happens, I promise that I will protect you.

I’ll fix this.”

“Oi you alive? Can you hear me?” A voice said.

You snapped back to reality. Get it together. Don’t fuck this up.

“Sorry…could you repeat that?”

The person in front of you takes off their glasses and cleans them with the edge of their shirt. “I said, you’re obviously not from around here. Where are you from?”

You shift in your chair. You knew that you were going to stand out from the other inhabitants of Neo Tokyo the moment you arrived here.

“I um..I’m from Earth.”

Their eyes go wide. “Earth? That shithole? I didn’t know there were still settlements there. How did you even earn a ticket to get to Mars?” You open your mouth to reply, but they put their hand out. “Don’t answer that - it’s none of my business.”

Obviously your planet of birth has made you intriguing; hopefully intriguing enough that they’ll give you a job. They look you up and down like you were a science experiment. “And why would an Earthling such as yourself want to work here, at Club Azure?”

“I’m a hard worker and a quick learner. And I need to make money fast.”

“Mmmhmmm… you can definitely do that here, if the guests like you,” they smile, “and you certainly would be a unique curiosity.” Brown eyes gleam behind their glasses, “But why do you really want to work here?”

There’s a silence as you think about what to say, but decide you might as well tell the truth. “This line of work doesn’t require me to have Mars citizenship papers.”

“And there it is,” they nod, seeming satisfied with your honesty. “It’s true, we don’t really care about those things here. In return, we expect our employees to be…discreet about our clientelle’s information and other business that goes on here.”

“I can be discreet.”

“Is that so?” The brunette leans back in their chair and gives you another once-over, their finger tapping their chin. “You’re unique, and there’s a certain something about you… I’m certain the boss is really gonna love you,” they say out loud, more to themself than to you.

If they aren’t the boss, you wonder who is.

“Ok, you’re hired.” They reach their hand across the desk and towards you.

A heavy sigh escapes your lips; you hadn’t realized that you’d been holding your breath slightly. Your hand meets theirs and they shake it vigorously. “The name’s Hange Zoe. I run this fine establishment,” they say with pride. “And what should I call you?”

“My name is —“

Hange immediately puts their finger to your lips. “Nuh uh uh, you weren’t about to give me your real name, were you?” They click their tongue. “It’s best that you don't do that. If the authorities come skulking around asking questions, the less I know about you, the better.”

“Oh…I see.”

Seems that there’s a lot about this world that you don’t know.

“We need to give you a stage name. Let’s see..” They’re tapping their chin again. “…flower names are always a good choice. What’s your favorite flower?”

“Flower? I’ve never seen one of those before.”

“Oh right..you’re from Earth. It’s been a ruined wasteland for a long time..I guess you wouldn’t have ever seen them. Not that we have them here, either..” Hange stands up from their desk and begins to pace the floor of the small, cramped office. “What are your interests? Any hobbies?”

“I don’t have any hobbies but..” a smile comes to your face, “..on Earth, I loved to look up at the moon.”

“The moon? Hah! That orb is just an exclusive country club for the rich and famous. If your goal is to get there then you have another thing coming.”

You shake your head. “No, nothing like that. But when I was small, me and my si—” you stop. You’re getting too personal. Hange notices, but says nothing. “I mean, I would sit out and look at the moon for hours. I just wanted to escape.”

“And it looks like you’ve done that.” Suddenly Hange’s face brightens. “Luna! That’s what we’ll call you.”

They put their hand on top of your head. “Our little Earthling…let’s get you introduced to the rest of the group and get you dressed for tonight.”

Your eyes go wide. “Wait…I’m starting tonight?”

“Do you have something better to do?” They wait for a reply, to which you give none. “Then follow me.”

You follow Hange through the winding, narrow hall as they open a non-descript door.

“This is where the girls get changed.”

They open the door, gesturing for you to enter. Steel lockers are built around the perimeter of the room, with dressing tables and mirrors on the other side. Around you are women in various stages of undress: some have just arrived and are in their street clothes, others are walking around in their underwear, and all of them stop at some point to look you up and down. You knew you were going to stand out when you arrived in Neo Tokyo, but in the cruel, fluorescent lighting, it’s blazingly obvious. Most of the women around you have adorned their bodies with tattoos, the ink under their skin glowing brightly, making some of the images seem to move. Others have augmented their body: shining metallic arms and legs, hair and skin in every color of the rainbow…

All of it is nothing less than extraordinary.

There’s nothing extraordinary about your appearance. Your body doesn’t have a single tattoo or piercing. Your skin, eye, and hair color are ones that you were born with; your ‘human-ness’ is clearly on display for all to see.

“Presenting the hostesses of Club Azure!” The women go about their business as Hange walks you around the room. “You’ll find I’ve curated a diverse group of females who cater to every kind of taste….alien, android, and humanoid. I’m sure you’ll fit right in.”

One woman, putting on makeup, scoffs at the statement. “And just who have you wrangled to work here now, Hange?” She turns around to look at you, her nose scrunching up and her lips turning downward in a judgmental frown. “Or should I say, what..”

“Now, now, Ymir, be nice. Everyone!” Hange claps their hands, “Luna’s just arrived from Earth and I need you all to play nice and show her the ropes. Historia! Find her a dress that’ll fit and let her shadow you tonight.”

A petite woman with golden, glittering hair and bright, shining blue eyes turns around. White tattoo ink glows under her skin, glittering like diamonds. “Of course.” She takes your hand. “Come with me, Luna.”

She leads you to a locker on the far end of the room and presses in a code. It opens with a clink. “This was Nanaba’s locker. I figure you and she are about the same size.” She pulls out a few items and holds them against your body.

“Was? Did she leave without taking her stuff?”

Historia looks away, biting her bottom lip. Apparently your question hit a nerve. “We’re not really sure, actually. She just…disappeared after work one morning, two weeks ago. We never saw her again.”

“You’re leaving out key information, Historia,” Ymir butts in, “she should have never started fucking that guy in the Ackerman clan. That got her killed, I have no doubt.”

“Ackerman clan?”

“Ymir…hush!” Historia nudges Ymir and attempts to push her away, to no success.

“You mean, Hange didn’t tell you? We are employees of Club Azure, but this club is “protected” by the Ackerman Clan, one of the most powerful yakuza clans in Neo Tokyo. Hange might own the place, but they pull the strings. Getting involved with them is bad news.” She gives you a foreboding look. “If you see them, keep your distance.”

“Are they in here often?”

“Of course they are. They’re always skulking around, checking in on their products.”

Historia clicks her tongue, a warning to Ymir. “They’re not that bad. Just smile, be polite, and pour their drinks and you won’t have any problems with them.” Ignoring Ymir's eye roll, she pulls out a dress and hands it to you. “Here, try this on.”

You start taking your clothes off, and the women around you stop and stare. Ymir laughs, and you notice that each of her teeth have been shaped to a sharp point.

“You’re just as normal as normal can be, aren’t you? Not a single augmentation.” She walks around you as you stand there, naked and bare as their eyes judge you. “All your…parts are…real?” she asks, lifting up your arm.

You pull away and grip the dress closer to you. “Augmentations are rare and expensive on earth.”

Ymir smirks and her carnivorous teeth flash. “Well…everybody has a kink. I’m sure someone will be interested in you.”

“Ymir, that’s enough!” Historia huffs, pushing the tall, freckled woman away. By then, you’ve shimmied into the garment Historia chose for you. The tight, red dress fits your form perfectly, falling off the shoulders and highlighting your collarbone and breasts. It’s long, but a slit cuts all the way up the top of your thigh. You’ve never worn anything so elegant.

Historia looks you up and down. “A little tight, but all the better.” She pulls you over to a dressing table. “Now for the finishing touches.” She takes out some makeup and starts applying powders and creams to your face. “Hange probably wants to keep you as human as possible, so we’ll keep it simple.”

Her version of simple was very different from what you were imagining, as she adorns your cheeks with pink blush and your lips with a dark red lipstick. Your hair cascades in waves across your shoulders.

When you look in the mirror you barely recognize yourself.

“Is that me?” you ask, touching your radiant skin.

“I just enhanced what you already have. Hopefully, it’ll be good enough.” She stands and gives you another once-over, crossing her arms. “You’re still gonna stand out, but surely someone will be interested in you.”

Ymir walks by and chuckles. “This is gonna be interesting.” You scowl at her while she smiles smugly. “See you two out there,” she says, before sauntering away.

Historia takes you by the hand and leads you down a dark hall. Music is already reverberating through the walls and you can hear voices and laughter amidst the clink of glasses, which amplifies as she opens the door.

The bar is dimly lit, illuminated by a ceiling with an array of twinkling lights meant to look like the night sky. There are tables and booths with plush upholstery, some meant for larger groups while others are more private and intimate. A small stage is set up in the corner with a holographic band playing, and on the opposite end of the room, a long drink bar manned by Hange and another bartender.

And dispersed throughout are men, some young, some old, but all well-dressed, sitting and drinking with a hostess or two.

“At a hostess bar, it’s not our bodies that are for sale, but our time and attention,” Historia says, leading you through the room. “They can request a certain girl, but otherwise, we are partnered with them as they come in.”

The two of you end up at the bar, where Historia gestures for you to sit. “For the time that they’re here, it’s our job to make the guest feel like they are wanted and important - we laugh at all their stupid jokes, listen to their problems at work or at home, or just help them to get their mind off things with conversation.”

Your eyes dart from table to table, taking note of the hostesses pouring drinks, laughing and leaning into their guests, playing drinking games, or having lively talks. One girl gets up and walks over to the stage, singing as the band plays a popular song that everyone at the table seems to know.

“And that’s it?” you ask. “There’s not…more…that goes on between the guest and the hostess?”

“You mean sex?” Historia leans her chin on her hand. “Hange forbids us having sexual relationships with our guests.” Her eyes dart over to Hange as they put some drinks on a tray. “Isn’t that right?”

“Absolutely correct, my beautiful turtle dove,” they reply. “Prostitution can be procured at other clubs, but not at my fine establishment. You can flirt, make eyes, touch…” their bright eyes suddenly become serious, “but no sex.”

A wave of relief washes over you when you hear this. It’s overwhelming enough to know that you’ll have men ogling you, expecting entertainment and companionship. At least that’s all it’s expected to be.

While Hange busies themself with making another cocktail, Historia leans toward you and whispers, “It doesn’t mean that it doesn’t happen, though.”

That doesn’t surprise you; if a hostess’ whole job is to flirt all night long, at some point the lines must get blurred with certain customers. And you can probably make a substantial bit of extra money in taking a relationship beyond the confines of this club.

But that’s not why you’re here.

Hange pushes a tray of glasses and a bottle of alcohol across the bar to the two of you. “Ok, ladies, it’s showtime. Take these drinks over to table 12.”

Historia glances over to the table before taking the tray. “Ugh, it’s Lovof. Haven’t seen him here for a while.”

“Who’s Lovof?”

“A city councilman. We get a lot of politicians here.”

The two of you make your way to the table where Lobov is sitting with two other men. You wipe your sweaty palms on your dress, feeling more nervous the closer you get.

“Just smile and pour drinks. I’ll take care of the rest,” Historia whispers, just before making it to the table. “Lobov! It’s been so long, I thought you’d forgotten about us!”

She slides into the booth next to Lobov, a true thing of beauty as she smiles and bats her big, blue eyes. Her skin sparkles even more under the dimmed lighting, making her look like a true angel.

You slide in on the opposite side, sitting next to Lovof’s colleagues, but neither of them pay any attention to you as Historia takes the bottle from its chilled container and pours the golden liquid into a sparkling glass. It’s only until Historia gestures to you that they look your way, a curious look on each of their faces.

“And this is Luna.” Historia’s voice is sweet and soft, matching her angelic persona. “It’s her first night, so I’m showing her how to be a good hostess.”

“Well then, she’s learning from the very best,” Lobov says, his snake-like eyes slinking from Historia to look you over.

One of the men squints, then takes off his glasses to clean them with his shirt. “This plain-looking thing? Where in the galaxy did you find her?” he comments with a crude chuckle before turning away.

They’re bored with you already.

Get it together.

Don’t fuck this up.

You swallow hard, then take the bottle from Historia and pour a drink for the two unimpressed men.

Smile. Put on the mask.

“The story of why I’m not augmented is quite a tale,” your voice drips with flirtatious intrigue, “but perhaps it’s a tale better left for our second bottle, when I’m a little less nervous.”

The man next to you raises an eyebrow as you raise your glass. “In the meantime, I want to know everything there is to know about you fine gentlemen.” You smile, eyes sparkling in such a way that they almost rival Historia’s. “Kanpai.”

Lovof’s looks of confusion change to amusement as he joins you in raising his glass, the rest reflecting his actions.

“Kanpai!” the table responds.

By the third bottle, everyone is buzzed and relaxed. The alcohol coursing through you is helping you to feel less nervous, and has given you a confidence you’d only pretended to have before. The man next to you, Gelgar, has completely forgotten his other colleagues and is focused solely on you, while the other two are enraptured by Historia.

The attention makes you uncomfortable, everything within you wanting to escape this man’s gaze. But this is your job, you remind yourself.

You’re not the same person you were on Earth.

So you mirror your fellow hostess, pouring their drinks and leaning forward as they tell you about an upcoming election. Most of the time you have no idea what they're talking about, but you smile and nod, feigning to be enraptured by their words.

You’re good at pretending. You’ve been doing it your whole life.

There’s a glazed look in the men’s eyes and Historia shoots you a glance that tells you it’s time for them to call it a night. As the two of you escort them out of the bar, Lovof suddenly stops, turning to you.

“My darling, you never told us - why are you not augmented?”

Ah. You forgot you’d mentioned that.

“Well…” you begin as you’re walking with them out of the club, “...my father was the leader of a cult and my mother was one of his many wives. It was commanded that his children never be augmented, as doing so would be an affront to God, who made the body. No needle or knife must ever blemish my skin.”

A smile crawls across his face. “Intriguing. Absolutely intriguing…” You feel his eyes rove over your body in a way that feels violating. “I’d like to drink with you again, Luna.”

“She would be honored.,” Historia says, placing her hand on your back and guiding you to bow with her. “Please come visit us again soon.”

You both deeply bow then wave as the trio drunkenly walk to the black vehicle that pulled up for them. Only until they are out of view do you both turn away.

Historia takes your arm. “That story…is it really true?”

“Does it matter?”

Historia lets out an angelic laugh. “I think you’re going to do just fine here.” She walks arm-in-arm with you back into the bar. “You did well for your first time, I’m proud of you.”

“Thanks. I was nervous the entire time.” You allow yourself to smile - the first real smile you’ve had all night.

Historia’s words of praise flow through you as freely as the copious amounts of alcohol you’ve already consumed, both of them giving you courage as you stroll back into your new workplace.

This isn’t too bad, you think to yourself.

You can do this.

You carry a newfound boldness as you and Historia walk up to Hange, who is waiting at the door. There’s a concerned, serious look in their eyes, much different from the happy, go-lucky persona you’d initially met.

Hange pulls you both aside. “They’re back, Historia, and causing a ruckus. I’m sorry to do this to you and Luna, but will you two help with damage control for a few minutes while I call for some backup?” They press a small silver button on the back of their ear and walk away, not even waiting for a response. As if either of you had a choice in the matter.

You must have been too focused on your table’s patrons to realize the growing noisiness of the table in the center of the club. Now, it’s hard to notice anything else.

Even from across the room, you can sense the chaotic energy of the group, a stark difference from the customers you’d just said goodbye to. The men are much younger than Lovof and his associates, their tacky suits and bright hair colors a stark contrast to the politicians you’d just entertained. They slap the table and yell curse words at each other, earning sideway glances from the others surrounding them. Empty bottles of alcohol litter their table; one of the men tries to milk the last few drops from one, but when there’s nothing left, he frowns.

“Oi! Another bottle! Make that two!” he curls his lip in disgust as he looks at his comrades slumped around the table. “This place has the shittiest service.”

Your newfound boldness shrinks with each step to their table.

“We just need to get them to settle down and then get them to leave,” Historia whispers, handing you a bottle. “Be polite, but don’t let them manhandle you.”

You put the mask back on, smiling as you and Historia both sit on either side of the booth.

“Good evening, gentlemen,” Historia says, her voice still ringing calm and clear.

An arm immediately wraps around your shoulders the second you sit down, pulling you forcefully into him.

“Look at this - two more! We must be getting the V.I.P. treatment today, boys,” a man with long brown hair and green eyes shouts over the rest of the crowd.

Ever the essence of politeness, Historia pours the alcohol, a superficial smile never leaving her face.

“It’s our honor to serve you here at Club Azure,” is her meek reply.

The two other hostesses copy Historia, just as you had done earlier, but behind their smiles are eyes that want to escape the situation as soon as possible. Although this is your first night and you still have much to learn, something feels different about this group of men; they are loud and arrogant, and their way of speaking is crude. It’s as if their entire goal is to make everyone uncomfortable. They continue to demand more alcohol and paw at the hostesses, downing bottle after bottle, their appetites insatiable.

All the while, the brunette man continues to clutch at you, his grip tight on your shoulder, keeping you from moving one inch. His suit reeks of alcohol and tobacco, and his breath is even worse when he finally decides to turn and speak to you.

“I’ve never seen you here before.”

He’s young, and there’s a wildness in his eyes, warning you to stay on his good side.

You attempt to shift away from him, but his arm is stronger than it looks. So you put on the mask and smile faintly. “I’m new. The name’s Luna.”

Seeming to be the ringleader of the group, you hope that light conversation will keep him preoccupied enough for help to arrive.

Whatever help that may be.

“Lunaaaaa…” he repeats, his tone heavy and foreboding. “You’re a non-aug.” He shifts his attention back to the other men at the table. “Look at this - we got ourselves a non-aug.”

You assume that means you’re not augmented. Will it be an intriguing curiosity, as it was in Lovof’s case?

Or something far worse?

The men hoot and holler words that you aren’t familiar with, but you don’t need to be fluent in the Martian dialect to know the meanings of their slurs.

The other women look at you, brows knit, bodies frozen, each hesitant to intercede.

“Tell me, Luna,” his green eyes darken, moving down your body and stopping at the bare leg peeking out of the high slit of your dress, “is every part of you real?”

His grip on your shoulder grows even tighter as his free hand moves up your thigh. “Let’s find out, hm?”

Every fiber of your being is screaming to escape this man’s clutches. Your eyes flash to Historia, who attempts to stand up and walk to you, but is forced back down by one of the men. She sends you a helpless expression that even she is powerless to help you.

But you refuse to be powerless. Not ever again.

So you meet the man’s lustful gaze, and slap him hard across the face.

A look of shock sweeps over him, his pride hurt more than the sting in his cheek.

“Don’t you touch me,” comes your warning, willing your body and voice not to shake.

Time freezes for a moment, not a single person moving a muscle, until -

– the back of his hand cracks against your cheekbone.

It takes you a few seconds to realize what just happened, but before you can react, he grabs your face with his hand and forces you to look into his eyes.

“Bitch.” He squeezes tighter. “Do you know who I am?”

“Should I?” you manage to reply, despite the forceful grip on your cheeks.

His eyes fill with rage, getting even greener. “Nobody fucks with the Jaeger clan.”

“Oi.”

You hear a voice behind the two of you, cold as steel.

“Did you hear the lady? Hands off.”

You can’t move your head to see who’s talking, but your assailant does. “And who the fuck are you?”

“Someone who’s about to fuck with the Jaeger clan.”

Suddenly a hand grabs the back of the man’s collar and yanks him up, his body flying over the back of the booth and into another table. There are a few screams but then the club goes silent as all eyes watch what’s transpiring.

Finally free, you look behind you to see a man in a navy blue suit. He walks closer to the other man, who’s scrambling up from the floor. There’s an incredible size difference between the two; this man in the blue suit is much shorter than the men that are now surrounding him, but it doesn’t seem to faze him in the least.

Green eyes flash and the three other henchmen barrel towards the shorter man. It only takes a few seconds for two of them to be sprawled on the ground, barely conscious. The third grabs the lapels of his dark blue suit, but a hard knee to his groin has him joining his compatriots on the floor.

“Bastard..”

Now the only one standing, the brunette moves his hand toward the inner pocket of his jacket.

Something flashes into the hand of the smaller man. It seems to be a knife of some kind.

How did it appear so quickly?

“You pull out that piece and it’ll be the last thing your hand ever does,” the shorter man warns, his eyes laser-focused.

The other three men scurry off the floor and towards the club’s exit, but not before one of them grabs his friend by the shoulder. “Come on Eren, let’s get out of here. Your brother’s gonna kill us if this gets worse.”

The tall brunette man smirks then backs away with his hands up, keeping his eyes on the man in front of him.

“This isn’t over.” His eyes then flit to you as he straightens his suit jacket. “Fucking bitch,” he spits, before turning to leave.

It’s as if the whole club takes a collective sigh once the four men are finally gone. Historia is immediately at your side.

“Oh my god, Luna, are you alright? I’m so sorry..”

You can hear her words and feel her gentle hands touching your face, but all your attention is on the man standing before you. He buttons his suit jacket and runs his fingers through his hair, pushing back the few strands that came loose during the scuffle.

“Thank you so much, um…” your words hang in the air, waiting for a name.

His steel blue eyes look into yours - not at your body, not at the bruise you’re sure is growing by the second - but deep into your eyes, before looking away.

It’s the first time you’ve felt someone look at you like you’re a person, not some oddity.

“Levi,” he finally answers in a low, cool voice. “And don’t thank me for doing my job.”

Before you can say more, he’s turned his back, disappearing into the darkness of the club.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

Glossary of terms:

Yakuza - Japanese mafia

Kanpai - cheers!

Dividers by @animatedglittergraphics-n-more

next chapter/masterlist/AO3

Join my taglist!

@youre-ackermine @honestlywtfisgoingon @bejewelledd @cometlevi @sea-after-a-storm @notgoodforlife @belovedackerman @y44sherlock @xyumemi @armani78 @humanitys-strongest-bamf @thalia-prior-of-ravenclaw @zasialovee @heartsforlevi @pieckes @aomi04 @ackermendick @sun-drak @crazychaoticizzy @mintandgingertea @socio-kai-path1972 @xuanzhe @hvziers @hollistichood @highgoon69 @vxlentine888 @luasxsx @notsaelty @themoonisbeautiful-blog @mrsackxrman @leviismybby @littlerequiem @deepestcatpatrol @nube55 @noctemys @darkstarlight82 @pamakali @leviisgf @righty @dreamtuna @amywritesthings @yihona-san06 @levilxvr @velouria17 @ryutotsukai @outrofenty @l3visthighs @bitchymanlet @emilyyyy-08 @wingedtalewombat @wavyhat2540 @angelanimedesaray @spicerackofblorbos @ackerlancio

381 notes · View notes

kamizama · 1 year ago

Text

𝓢𝐇𝐄 𝓕𝐄𝐋𝐋 𝓘𝐍 𝓛𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝓦𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝓐 𝓖𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑!

── MANJIRO “MIKEY” SANO┊TOKYO REVENGERS

premise. you hate gangs, though that hasn’t stopped your cousin from joining the biggest one in tokyo— or it’s leader from taking an unexpected interest in you . . .

content. manjiro sano / f!reader. fluff. anthology series. reader doesn’t like gangs. loose plot and storyline. final timeline ; 2005-2017. childhood friends (?). good girl x bad boy (?). one-sided enemies(?) to lovers. tsundere-ish!reader.

soundtrack. this charming man : the smiths.

reblogs are appreciated .ᐟ ໒꒰ྀི´ ˘ ` ꒱ྀིა

¹new message from jia ෆ irregular, sporadic and slow updates!! please be patient! i love mikey a normal amount

── MORNING, PRINCESS. c. 2005

⌗ without your knowledge, your cousin gave a copy of the house keys to toman’s leader for a gang meeting— and who better to see you in your pyjamas and bedhead than the man you detest.

TIME LEAP TO : JULY 9, 2005.

── I’LL WALK HOME BY MYSELF! c. 2005

⌗ gangs have been getting into more fights than usual, your cousin told you he asked one of toman’s members to walk you home from school. how unfortunate that he asked mikey.

TIME LEAP TO : AUGUST 2, 2005.

── YOU CAN EAT ALL OF THESE? c. 2005

⌗ you thought that getting an after school job would save you from running into mikey so often at your house, until you realize the store you work at is conveniently his favourite snack spot.

TIME LEAP TO : SEPTEMBER 18, 2005.

more installments TBA.

531 notes · View notes

kamizama · 1 year ago

Text

updated carrd!

0 notes

kamizama · 1 year ago

Text

The evolution of characters I like:

(I wanted to do this bc i was looking back at edits I had saved from like 2018-now and I thought it was interesting)

Draco Malfoy (HP)

Byakuya Togami (Danganronpa THH)

Bakugo Katsuki (MHA)

Dabi (MHA)

Kurapika (HXH)

Nishinoya Yuu (Haikyu)

Oikawa Toru (Haikyu)

Miya Atsumu (Haikyu)

Diluc Ragnvindr (Genshin Impact)

Scaramouche (Genshin Impact)

Levi Ackerman (AOT)

Armin Arlert (AOT)

Hanma Shuji (TR)

Manjiro Sano (TR)

Fushiguro Megumi (JJK)

Kazutora Hanemiya (TR)

Haitani Ran (TR)

Haruchiyo Sanzu (TR)

Arlecchino (Genshin Impact)

Lyney (Genshin Impact)

Bachira Meguru (BLK)

Mikage Reo (BLK)

Nagi Seishiro (BLK)

Alexis Ness (BLK)

Michael Kaiser (BLK)

Yuuta Okkotsu (JJK)

Vegeta (DB)

Future Trunks (DB)

Android 17/Lapis (DB)

Shin (DB)

Freiza?? (this is a new discovery) (DB)

I know im missing a lot of them but if you find any similarities or patterns pls lmk, i just think its interesting.

#anime #tokyo revengers #dbs #aot #bnha #hp #haikyu #ineedseriousmentalhelp

1 note · View note

kamizama · 1 year ago

Text

In Every Timeline [Chapter One]

Taglist- @ameliabs-world

(If anyone else wants to be tagged, just let me know ^w^)

A young girl at the age of ten, makes her way home from school. She didn’t live too far away from her school, so she didn’t mind the walk to and back. In fact, she found herself enjoying the walks. It gave her some alone time, some time to herself, some time to think.

It was nice.

Unfortunately, it wouldn’t last long. Today, some middle schoolers decided to give her a hard time. She was stopped by two older boys, each of them trying to come off as intimidating.

“You lost little girl?”

“Where’s your little friends? Or, maybe…Don’t tell me you’re one of those friendless geeks!”

“I bet! Just look at her!”

She inwardly sighs at their attempts at scaring her and hurting her feelings. Though, what they said wasn’t entirely wrong. She really didn’t have any friends. It was hard to make friends at her school. Or rather, it was hard for her to make friends. She just gave up after a while.

She wasn’t sad about it or anything. She was doing just fine.

“Can you please get out of my way?” She finally speaks.

“Huh? Trying to order us around pipsqueak!?”

“Annoying little brat! We outta reach you a lesson!”

The two took a step closer to her. This time the sigh left her. She wasn’t a great fighter. She was only ten after all. But she did deal with her fair share of bullies, and she was able to take care of them on her own.

This was no different. Just two dumb bullies in her way.

The first one raised his fist and aimed it towards her face. She quickly dodged before deliver a punch of her own to his stomach. She wasn’t sure if he was actually hurt from it, or if it was just shock that made him stumble back. But she didn’t waste time as she did the same to the other, this time, kicking him in the gut as hard as she could.

“Damn you!”

The girl quickly tried running past them, but was grabbed by the arm and yanked back.

“Hold her still.”

One of the boys cracked his knuckles as he spoke. “We were just gonna let you go with a light slap on the wrist. But now you’re gonna get it! How would you like a few broken bones!?”

Just as he said this, fast approaching footsteps could be heard. And before she knew it, the one threatening to harm her was being kicked in the head. He was sent to the ground roughly, unconscious.

Standing above him, was a boy around her age. With a bored expression, he turned to the one holding her. “How lame. Picking on a little girl.” He muttered before rushing towards him. He jumped up into the air, and delivered the same devastating kick he dealt the first one.

He landed with ease, and turned to face the girl. “You alright?” He asks. The girl blinks before nodding her head. “Ok. See ya.” The boy says before starting to walk off.

“Wait a second!”

The boy stopped when she called for him. “What?” He asks. “How…How did you do that?” She asks him. “Do what?” The boy tilts his head. “The flying kick you just did!” The girl says, pointing back to the still unconscious middle schoolers.

“Oh that.” The boy says, placing his hands in his pockets. “I take martial arts classes with my grandpa.” He explains. “Can I do it too?” Her question confused him.

“Where is your grandpa’s dojo? I wanna take lessons too.”

“What? No way, you totally suck at fighting. It’d be a waste of time.” He says with a frown. The girl furrows her brows. “I do not!” She argues.

“I saw you trying to fight back against those guys. You barely left a mark on them. Then you tried to run away like a coward.”

“But there were two of them!”

“Which is why you shouldn’t have tried fighting them. Especially if you don’t know how to fight in the first place.”

“Then isn’t that even more of a reason to let me practice at the dojo? Then I can do those cool kicks like you do and I won’t have to worry about guys like that again.”

The boy sighs and starts walking away again. “No way. It would take you forever to get on my level.” The girl followed after him. “Like I said! That’s more of a reason why I should take lessons!”

“I already said no. And stop following me!”

“Not until you tell me where the dojo is!”

“No!”

This kind of back and forth between the two would go on for at least a week after that. It was by some stroke of luck that the boy went to the same school as her. So, she’d make sure to follow after him and try her best to convince him to let her take lessons with him.

But every time, he turned her down.

One day, she decided to follow him without him knowing. Sure it was creepy, but she was only doing it to find out where he was taking martial arts classes. After that, and after applying to join, she’d leave him alone. By then, she would have done what she had sought out to accomplish.

Her plan had proved to be successful, as she trailed him to the dojo. She waited for the boy to go inside before waiting outside. She didn’t mind the wait. It would be worth it if she could learn how to fight like him.

“What are you doing out here?”

The girl looks to her left, there stood a young man with jet black hair. A cigarette hung loose from his lips, and even from where she stood, she could smell a hint of motor oil off his clothes.

“I’m waiting.” She answers simply, causing the man to raise an eyebrow. “Waiting for…?”

The girl looks up at the dojo. “I wanna learn how to fight. But that dummy won’t let me!” She pouts. “What dummy?” Asked the man. The girl opened her mouth, only for it to fall close again. What…was that boy’s name?

“Uh. He’s short, and has blonde hair. And he does really cool kicks.”

“Oh, Manjiro?” The man asks. “You friends with him?” The girl shakes her head with a frown. “I don’t like him! He’s a jerk! He said it would be a waste of time for me to learn how to fight. I’m not good at it, sure, but that doesn’t mean I can’t learn!”

The man nods. “I agree.” He says before taking one last puff of his cigarette, then tossing on the ground and stepping on it. “I’m sorry about my little brother. He can be a pain sometimes.” Brother? This guy is that jerk’s brother? But he seems really nice.

“My name is Shinichiro Sano. Who are you?”

“Y/n L/n.”

The two talked for a while before the doors of the dojo opened, letting some kids out. Among them, was Manjiro and some other boy he was talking to. Manjiro seemed to have noticed Y/n, as an annoyed look crossed his face. “You again.”

“Who’s that?” Asked the taller boy with him. “Some brat.” Manjiro answers. “Hey!” Y/n scowls. “Manjiro, why don’t you think Y/n can take lessons here?” Asked Shinichiro. “Cause she sucks.” Manjiro says, as if Shinichiro should already know. “She’ll just get herself hurt.”

“Hm. I think that’s a great reason to let her try.” Said Shinichiro. “What do you think Baji?” The other boy hummed. “I guess? I mean, couldn’t hurt.”

“I’ll talk to Gramps about letting you take lessons.” Shinichiro tells Y/n, making her grin. “Thank you!” She beams.

Manjiro rolled his eyes. “Whatever.” He says as he walks ahead. Baji gives Y/n a small wave before hurrying after him. “Hmph. Jerk.” Y/n mutters, watching Manjiro leave. “Don’t worry.” Shinichiro starts.

“He’ll get use to you soon.”

Luck must have been on Y/n’a side. Shinichiro’s grandfather accepted her into the dojo, and lessons began right away. And just as Shinichiro said, Manjiro, or “Mikey” as he liked to be referred to, slowly got use to her being around.

But he was still a bit of a jerk.

As for Shinichiro, he couldn’t be sweeter. Y/n really grew attached to him, she would go as far to say he was like an older brother to her. That gave her even more of a reason to show up for lessons.

Y/n became friends with Emma as well, she was really nice to her when they met. Y/n was hesitant at first, but slowly opened up to her. Whenever Y/n wasn’t taking lessons, she was hanging out with Emma.

As for Mikey, he too eventually grew more comfortable with Y/n. Turns out she wasn’t completely hopeless after all. At some point, those two set aside their little dislike of each other, and became pretty good friends.

Y/n would get to hang out with him and his friends, in time, becoming friends with them as well. And being the only girl in a group of boys, their behavior and mannerisms rubbed off on Y/n. Among the group she had to admit, Ken, or Draken, was her favorite.

He was surprisingly mature for his age, only being beat by Mitsuya. And that was only by a little. As for the others though, they were just a bunch of boys. But back to Draken-

There was a point where Y/n had grown to see him as an older brother. He was nice but could get stern if he needed to. And he was a great protector. Y/n could understand why Emma liked him so much.

Y/n would have saved that big brother title for Shinichiro, as he was a great brother to the Sano kids. But honestly, she saw him as more than that. She'd go as far to say, he was almost like a father figure to her.

It was just Y/n and her mom back home, as she and her husband divorced a couple years ago.

Shinichiro kind of filled that emptiness that Y/n's dad left her with. He was always so caring, always looked out for her, always wanted to know how she was doing. He’d even let her hang out at the shop while he worked. It was quite the sight. He was so focused, and he did his job well.

He was just the coolest.

Y/n really cared about each and every single one of them. Which is why, it was all the more difficult when she had to say goodbye.

Mikey had noticed Y/n's behavior had changed lately. Y/n was less talkative, less active. She didn’t want to do much of anything with anyone. It was weird. So of course, he decided to confront her about it.

He caught Y/n on the way to Shinichiro’s shop.

“You’re acting weird. More than usual. What’s going on?” He asks. Y/n shrugged. “It’s nothing.” Mikey rolled his eyes. “You expect me to believe that? Tell me.” Y/n suddenly stop walking, Mikey did as well. “Well?” He pries.

Y/n's shoulders began to tremble, soft sniffles came from her as tears filled her eyes. Mikey was slightly surprised by this. She never cried in front of him, or anyone, before. “Y/n?”

“I’m moving away.”

“What?”

Y/n wipe away her tears, sniffling before repeating herself. “I said, I’m moving away. Away from Tokyo, away from Japan all together.”

“Why?” Mikey asks, trying to ignore that funny feeling in his chest. “It’s because of my mom’s work. We’re leaving in a week.” Y/n tells him. Mikey fell silent, the only thing that could be heard was her sniffles and soft cries.

Everyone found out eventually, and they were just as upset as Y/n was. But there wasn’t anything anyone could do. She was leaving, and she didn’t know when, or if, she'd be back.

Ok! First chapter done! Chapter two is already in the works as this is being published, so hopefully you guys will get to read chapter two soon.

I hope you all enjoy this series!

166 notes · View notes