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#heal me with the magic of Christmas
palfriendpatine66 · 2 years
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The most accurate read on my mental health is whether or not I have the need to watch The Christmas Prince
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I think it says a lot about me as a person now that that the easiest way to make me cry as a child (and still now. I didn't think I'd tear up while writing this lmao) was to imply that the majesties and wonders of childhood and imagination are all a dream that inevitably leaves us as we get older that we can only regain in death and that the vivid inner worlds and personalities we give our toys in our early years either feel abandoned, vengeful, or die entirely as we age.
#i would literally have to leave the room for some movies or skip the endings of others because I found them so upsetting#a quick list of properties this post is about:#frosty the snowman‚ the polar express‚ the Carebears movie: the next generation‚ the velveteen rabbit‚ peter pan#the third tinkerbell movie‚ winnie the pooh‚ toy story 3‚ narnia‚ the wizard of oz (books)‚ the miraculous journey of edward tulane#and the songs goodbye yellow brick road‚ hey there delilah‚ and rainbow connection (by my own 9 year old interpretation)#The idea that adults can't access magic and it is something you HAVE to grow out of and this mystification of childhood upset me so much#I'm so glad I can put it into words now that I'm older#there are also probably many other properties that fit this description btw#like the brave little toaster and the raggedy anne musical I think#but after being traumatized by the velveteen rabbit I purposefully avoided most movies about toys#there are a lot of christmas shorts I also skip for that purpose#so anyway I'm putting it down this low for a reason#but I was reminded of this because now I'm using these same tattered toy and attatchment motifs in my own writing#but subverting that original meaning by sewing the toys back together so it becomes about repair and healing AS WELL AS the horrors of time#but also how such things can bring magic to people of all ages#and how love and comfort can still be provided by these inner worlds so many years later#the world is filled with beauty and wonder at any age and turning to cynicism and rejecting that reality is NOT what 'growing up' is about
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malfoys-demigod · 2 months
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“Wear a jacket, it’s cold outside”
☆⋆。𖦹°‧★ Logan Howlett x Reader
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Summary: Just a quick fluff drabble where the reader’s out admiring the morning snow, but also at the same time not wanting to admit she’s cold and of need of a jacket
A/N: Hi all!! It has been a while since I wrote. Life has been so hectic for me, but ever since I watched Deadpool and Wolverine recently, the love I have for X-men came back and I really loved seeing tons of Wolverine fics pop up!
·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:· ·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:· ·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·
There was always something magical about the first morning snow at the X Mansion that made Y/N feel like the happiest girl in the world.
There was that feeling of serenity and calm that comes from snowy environments which she loved feeling every winter. It would prompt nostalgic memories: childhood fun, holidays spent yearning for a white Christmas - it just made her happy.
So when the first snow arrived early in the morning, Y/N got up as fast as she could, slipping on her favorite winter boots as she made a dash out to the entrance of the X Mansion, only wearing her long-sleeved pajama top and jogging pants.
There it was.
A fresh blanket of snow, covering the whole landscape of the area, as more snow fell down gracefully from the sky. Y/N was enjoying the sound of silence - watching the snow flutter down like magical confetti, which felt so healing to her.
She watched as the trees were heavy with snow on its tips, smelling damp pine cones from a distance. She never felt so happy.
That was until she took a few steps outward from the driveway with her last step causing her to take a small slip into a soft blanket of snow. She was now laying on wet snow, laughing her ass off from being so reckless out of nowhere all alone. The gleaming snow around her was what made her choose to stay grounded on the floor, expanding her arms and legs as they made snow angel movements.
It was only a matter of time for Y/N to start experiencing the frost bitten feeling around her body, numbing her as she continued staying out in the snow without proper protecting from being frozen. Yet.. she didn’t exactly have plans on going back in to wear protective gear just yet.
Meanwhile back inside the X Mansion, Logan had just woken up from a surprisingly good sleep. He didn’t have any nightmares to fight off this time. He actually woke up peacefully.
He got up, wore his regular leather jacket, fixed himself up quickly, and took a look at his window, seeing white, as he discovered the first snow of the season.
What he then noticed after was Y/N, lying down on the carpet of snow, with a smile on her face. Logan swore he almost felt a smile on himself growing too fast for his liking. He always kept his relationship with Y/N to a friendly-teasing kind of thing going on, but deep down, he always wanted to see if he could have more than that with his colleague.
His face definitely returned to his typical serious form, as he took a closer look at Y/N… with tingling cold finger tips, shivering slightly. He wondered why she wasn’t returning yet inside to warm up, and a level of concern grew in him, picturing her as a poor, frost bitten kitten, who needed help.
He turned around and made his way outside at full speed.
The heavy crunches of the snow under Logan’s feet as he stomped towards her caused Y/N to sit up and turn around.
Logan huffed at the sight of his kitten, looking bitterly cold now as her arms were crossed tightly. “Kid, what the hell are you doing?”
She smiled childishly with pink spots on her cheeks, which Logan discretely found lovable. “Um, enjoying the first snow?”
Logan had a displeased look on his face, definitely due to her reply. “No shit, but ever thought of doing it with extra layers on? You’re gonna freeze yourself to death, bub. You don’t want the kids to wake up on the first day of snow and see their teacher frozen over, do ya?”
Y/N was too amused with the silly, impossible idea of turning into an iced sculpture to even notice the worried look Logan had on his face. “Oh come on, Lo,” she brushed it off, “I’m fine. A little cold won’t hurt me.”
Logan was about to protest until Y/N brought out a small sneeze. She pointed at him her best straight-face, wanting to speak up first after her ��A little cold won’t hurt me’ statement.
“Shut up, Logan,” she commanded, “That was nothing. I’m fine.”
The secretly smitten man, rolled his eyes, not buying a single thing she said. “Alright, here we go” he said, pulling her up for her to stand on her feet as she whined, “Hey!”
“Wear a jacket, it’s cold outside.” He pleaded after she complained with her frowns.
“But I really just wanted to stay a few minutes longer then I’ll go back in,” she admitted, giving her best ‘Puss-in-Boots adorable eyes’ that made Logan want to fold so damn easily. But he shook his head, removing his favorite leather jacket, that he would never just give to anyone. Her few minutes were definitely not few minutes and he knew that.
“Take it and wear it,” he surrendered.
Y/N lightly gasped, knowing very well that Logan and his leather jacket were famously inseparable. She was too flustered to say anything at the moment, so she took the jacket from him, mumbled a thank you, and started wearing it.
Logan had definitely taken a liking to what he was seeing. She looked so good in his jacket and he was captivated by how adorable she looked, with the jacket looking slightly oversized on her.
Y/N felt her heartbeat move faster when she taken a notice at Logan’s fitted black shirt, outlining the muscles that attracted her since the first day they met. She looked away, looking down at her shoes, hoping her cheeks weren’t pinker than they were earlier.
“You wanna join me for those last few minutes?” She asked teasingly with a small smile on her face. How could he say no to her?
He ‘nonchalantly’ huffed a ‘kay and sat down with her on the ground. She shifted a little closer to him, her head leaning on his shoulder. While her eyes were focused on the snow in front of her falling from a distance, his eyes were on her, wanting to make sure he saw her reaction to when the shoulder she was leaning on moved up, as Logan started wrapping his arm on her, getting them closer than how they were just a second ago.
Logan smirked to himself, seeing how red-faced Y/N was now, still focusing her attention on the snow, as she was avoiding eye contact with Logan, who was now hoping they spend more than a few minutes cozying up together before heading back in.
Maybe after that, he could treat her to hot chocolate, because of course, it was cold and he without a doubt thinks it’s the only nice thing to do afterwards…! *wink*
@snackthatsmilesbackchlldren @iluvloganhowlett (shoutout to you and your amazing fic so far! love seeing your works!)
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nincompoopydoo · 8 months
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*:・゚✧*:・゚  nincompoopydoo // WIZARDING WORLD MASTERLIST
theseus scamander
⋆ caught in a crossfire [series]: Theseus and his team of Aurors are tasked with a mission to take down a recent movement formed by dark wizards and witches with the intention to erase all muggles. The night takes a turn when you arrive at the scene unknowingly and it seems you’re the next target. ⋆ in search of a grecian beast: As you, Theseus, and Newt find yourselves on a secluded Grecian beach along the Aegean Sea, an endeavor unfolds to seek out a Hippocampus. However, plans don’t turn out as expected. ⋆ for old times' sake: Theseus attempts to convince you to leave your desk. ⋆ happy christmas, dung brain: you visit the Scamander household on Christmas, seeing Theseus after a long time and the two of you’re not sure what to do with all these feelings. ⋆ bertie botts: Theseus gets injured during a fight and you’re mad. ⋆ overnight shift [series]: you and Theseus were known rivals among the Aurors at the British Ministry of Magic. ⋆ false signs: unsaid feelings turn into what seemed as unrequited love to Theseus but it turns out you’re in love with him as much as he is in love with you. ⋆ tea at newt's: newt plays accidental matchmaker. ⋆ envy: you’re jealous, although you hate to admit it, of Theseus’ rather flirtatious assistant. ⋆ trespassing: trespassing during a mission leads to a life or death situation when you and Theseus find yourselves entangled with a dangerous dark wizard. ⋆ war and anguish: theseus returns home as a war hero but you’re engaged and he doesn’t know what to do with himself and his feelings for you. ⋆ crimson cheeks and ivory snow: you spend a snowy day learning to ice-skate with the help of your crush, Theseus. ⋆ behind the sofa: you rant to Newt about his brother’s constant teasing at the workplace which led you to seek a hiding spot behind the sofa when Theseus unexpectedly shows up at his brother’s place. ⋆ shadows on ancient stone walls: soulmate AU: Where the outline of your shadow is your soulmate.
newt scamander
⋆ scamander: you are constantly being used by a ‘friend’ of yours but when you reached your limits, Newt is there to comfort you.
james potter
⋆ healed [series]: you and James had been the best of friends since your Hogwarts days. Thus, you grew strong feelings for the boy, feelings stronger than just plain platonic although you knew about James’ extreme infatuation for the beautiful and intelligent ginger, Lily James. ⋆ you owe me butterbeer: you and James are best friends and you are constantly helping him get Lily’s attention, even if you didn’t like doing so, simply because of your crush on James himself. However, things take a turn and James catches on a little later that he may not truly have feelings for the redhead but instead for someone who has been there with him all along. ⋆ mistletoe and holy moly, are you trying to kiss me?: James is trying to get you to kiss him under the mistletoe.
sirius black
⋆ flowers: you’re the quirky and socially awkward girl that Sirius has a crush on but his flirting ways seem to not work on you. ⋆ prejudice: you’re a Slytherin who stood up for a Ravenclaw against your own housemates which caused you to be attacked. Having been sent to the infirmary, you’re met with the charming Sirius Black.
remus lupin
⋆ alive and true: having found a lost friend, living in the countryside of Yorkshire, feelings of once hidden affection start to bloom in the need to be alive and good things to be real. ⋆ war changes you: Remus comes to visit you at the Hogwarts infirmary involuntarily sparking some old feelings you might have had for each other after not seeing each other for so long.
fred weasley
⋆ good, pure, and beautiful: the Leaky Cauldron serves as a sanctuary to drink your problems away for the night but a certain ginger always seems to find his way to you. ⋆ sheperd's pie: you desperately need a break from studying for your upcoming OWLs which left Fred Weasley, your best friend, the responsibility of coaxing you to do just that despite you being quite headstrong. ⋆ near death: Fred Weasley dies. Nearly.
george weasley
⋆ where two lonesomes meet: in the midst of a Christmas market sits a bench where two walls meet. Here is where two lonesomes meet. ⋆ nature mourns with the mourning: you and George finally find solace after the Battle of Hogwarts. ⋆ five to four: you comfort George after the Battle of Hogwarts. ⋆ snowball fight at midnight, that's christmas to me: where George simply had the audacity to force you to a battle of snowball in the middle of the night, out in the cold.
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gurugirl · 1 year
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Best Friend's Dad!Harry
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best friend's dad!harry x reader - forbidden relationship au
Warnings: 18+ only, NSFW, smut, age gap, cheating, lying, angst, breeding kink
Song to listen to: Illicit Affairs (you guys have said over and over again that this song fits this series perfectly and I couldn't agree more)
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note: should be read from top to bottom in order (unless noted that can be read as standalone)
Let Me Show You (6.3k words) - can be read as standalone
How your illicit affair with Mr. Styles began
Desperate (3.6k words) - can be read as standalone
A party at the Styles' house + sneaky bathroom sex
The Big Tease (7.8k words)
Some heavy teasing leads to you giving in to Mr. Styles
Not Fair (6.5k words)
Harry suggests something to you that blows up in his face *angsty*
He's Not You (7.8k words)
The aftermath of Harry's bright idea has some downfalls and he didn't expect to feel this way.
Liar (6.1k words)
Harry's wife suspects something is going on but she doesn't know what. Harry can't stay away from you and you don't want him to.
More of You (5.1k words) - can be read as standalone
Harry's at your place for a couple of days and you're enjoying having him all to yourself.
Crush (3.5k words) - can be read as standalone
A flashback: When your feelings for Mr. Styles morph from just finding him attractive to a full on crush you feel a little guilty. But then when he shows more than just a friendly interest in you at Fae's 22nd birthday party you two become close and eventually ebb on inappropriate, but you can't seem to stop.
Magic Spell (5.3k words) - can be read as standalone
A raucous Halloween party turns naughty when you and Harry find a hidden room at the Baylor mansion.
Under His Bed (4.5k words)
Harry invites you to stay at his house for the night and the following morning you both get an unexpected visitor.
Relax (4.9k words)
Fae asks you something that you aren't prepared to answer. You and Harry discuss what to do next.
Here's to Us (6.4k words)
A quick little weekend getaway is sweet and romantic. You reveal something that makes Harry do something a bit out of character.
Homewrecker (7.2k words)
The one where you and Harry finally come clean to everyone. Featuring an angry Fae, a spiteful soon-to-be ex wife, divorce terms, and lots of tears.
The Warning (4.5k words)
You and Harry are trying to heal after coming clean to everyone and Mrs. Styles comes to you with a warning.
A Little Naughty (3.3k words)
Your parents invite Harry to come with you for Christmas and you feel a little bit naughty after everyone's in bed.
Best Valentine's Day (4.2k words)
It's Valentine's Day and Harry's got something special planned.
Intuition (3.4k words)
Harry's got a surprise for you.
Must Be Nice (3.4k words)
You and Harry feel like everything's coming together perfectly. You're both getting all the things you wanted. But when you run into Fae while shopping and she notices something new about you, it bursts your little happy bubble.
The message blurb (453 words)
Fae unblocks you.
MORE TO COME!
divider by @firefly-graphics
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tanoraqui · 3 months
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Dungeon Meshi Liveblog: I thought I wasn't going to have strong opinions about the Laios-Shuro fight, but...
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Laios was right about this! Yes, they had 2 physical fights first, but it's important to note that Laios was right about this!
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^ -man who would literally kill to stay in this room and observe this private conversation.
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Sir, your unfaltering little wide-eyed, amiable smile while seriously considering topics that are obviously un-smile-worth has charmed me utterly. I wish to study you like an climate-entomologist yearns for the butterfly that causes storms.
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She seems fine.
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If I start screencapping Laios's and Marcille's faces in this fight, I will never stop because literally every panel is devasting.
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Kuro has done distinctly the most damage so far this fight, just stabbing and gnawing, and I think we should recognize and appreciate that fact.
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I really miss the animation we got of Rin's lightning blast slicing narrowly past Laios.
I love how fast, if reluctantly, Laios accepts that if - not, that Falin is a true "monster", inhuman and hurting people relentlessly and unapologetically, and thus she needs to be killed before she kills them, like any other monster. I also love that Marcille doesn't accept this. Characters!
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+1 to qualification to kingship! Kabru is one again surprised (you can tell by how he's not smiling) (though this might also be due to the significant injuries he just took).
I do have several emotions about how Falin immediately yanks away and kills Kabru, without touching Laios. That's her brother!!
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I really like this little cluster because it says to me that Shuro still has very good "do what Marcille says when she abruptly shouts magic-related directions in combat" instincts. He's a mirror of the "You're already on the Christmas card, buddy" meme - more like, "You're still on the Christmas card." Just like Namari: no one really stops being fond of, and battle companions with, these weirdos.
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I think the most painful part of this probably is that Marcille isn't certain. Maybe this IS her fault. At minimum, she knows she might have mixed the dragon's soul into Falin's, which enabled this even if it didn't create it. But she can't 100% rule out the possibility that it's more her fault than that - which is, of course, the absolute worst thing to say to all of these people looking at her violently askance for using dark magic.
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yeahhhhhh "Lunatic Magician" REALLY lacks the oomph of "Mad Mage"
ANGRY LAIOS! It's such a rare expression on him, it's exciting to see.
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Yesss look at my man Chilchuck use available tools in his environment and save this little goober who thinks it's cool to resent adults.
I really like how they show the social consequences of dark magic. Much beyond Shuro's anger: the other mages are now shutting Marcille down, especially where resurrection magic is concerned. She's made herself untrusted by her peers, whether or not the magic she used on Falin is truly "evil."
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I really enjoy the, like, narratively obligatory, not actually real (well, maybe to Rin) "will they-won't they" between Kabru and Rin. In the story that this isn't, where Kabru is the protagonist with his quirky gang of found family who are helping him save the island and prevent another bloodbath like in his angsty backstory, she IS the One (Human) Female on the Team who is obviously his love interest - often the first to challenge him, battle mage rather than healer ie a Strong Female Character who nonetheless doesn't use unfeminine brute force, forced by happenstance to kiss...
Alas! Kabru is not the protagonist of this story, so Rin shall remain disappointed.
Also this montage of people healing and reuniting while in the background Laios and Shuro whale on each other remains SO funny. Flawless comedic timing.
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Alright, hot take time: I feel like all the debate I've seen about the Shuro/Laios fight depict it as revealing the friendship basically shattered, and never real in the first place. Whereas I'm mostly warmed by how real it clearly was despite everything that just happened?
Shuro is operating on no food and less sleep, desperate to save the woman he idolizes without truly understanding her loves, who is now apparently a monster who nearly slaughtered his most loyal followers. In the past like 2 weeks, Laios has: watched his sister die to save his life (his little sister, whom he is supposed to protect), walked headfirst into a nigh-unwinnable fight to get her back, held her skull in his hands, got her back and held her in his arms, lost her again about 6 hours later in an even more unwinnable fight, which was proven even more unwinnable when the Mage twisted the dungeon itself against them, saw her again but as a murderous monster now (which might be due to the magic he agreed to use to resurrect her), swiftly and sternly resigned himself to fighting and potentially killing her (his little sister! whom he is supposed to protect!), had her recognize him (and no one else!) despite her monstrosity, watched her be killed (again!) in part thanks to him distracting her, except it didn't work and then she fled.
This is an immature, ignoring-immediate-needs (ie, food, healing) knock-down drag-out fight between two men at the absolute ends of their ropes, who, sure, have built-up resentments against each other and the world, and an inciting incident pushing them over the edge - but mostly neither of them can punch in the face the fact that they can't save Falin. So they punch each other instead.
I won't even address the prologue to the fight, where Laios tells him about the black magic and Shuro promptly tries to strangle him then levels a sword at him. Kabru already nailed that: Shuro was worried about Falin - that the magic had hurt her, that the social consequences would be worse. Laios knew this enough that he didn't fight back, then. But now?
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The first shove is Shuro demanding, Don't you fucking DARE give me false hope.
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I cannot emphasize enough how hard I would also slap someone for suggesting that I wasn't taking the death and monsterization of my younger sibling seriously.
Shuro knows it, too. He doesn't respond to this, he just punches, and Laios punches back. Shuro doesn't speak again until Laios knocks him all the way down, and
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Shuro is at his absolute depth. The lowest point he (feels that he) can go. He cannot save Falin. He's shamed himself as a leader and heir by getting his people killed (they got better, but that's beside the point.) He's been beaten in hand-to-hand combat by this idiot northern peasant. He lets down his guard and pride enough to mutter this self-deprecation aloud...and the idiot northern peasant hears, compounding every shame - and it's infuriating especially because he doesn't even hear properly, just like he never hears properly - he's so frustrating in his friendly but oblivious constant irritation and THIS, Shuro can still be furious about, to avoid his grief/hopelessness/self-loathing/shame. This, he can still fight about!
So he does.
They're both wrong in this fight. They're both right. Laios was consistently inconsiderate; knowing this about himself - because it's not like by his early 20s he didn't know that he didn't Get people the way most people Get people - he should've made more of an effort, and picked up any of the hints Shuro was laying down. Shuro was too caught up in his own pride and out-of-place manners: when it was clear that Laios wasn't going to pick up on even the strongest "hint", he should've said something plainly instead of just letting his resentment build until he was effectively lying to Laios about, if not their entire friendship, certainly the shape of it.
But they were friends. They are friends. This isn't the posture or conversation of two guys who don't like each other.
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It's two guys who are still, in fact, fucking exhausted, physically and emotionally - but they just got rid of a lot of extra, furious, helpless energy, so they're finally satisfied to just sit. Their posture is relaxed and casual; their conversation straightforward and companionable, if serious.
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This is two guys who've sat like this many time at a campfire, in just these poses. Who've kept watch together late at night and stayed awake by talking.
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Laios cares about Falin more than anyone in the world, and even after the words and blows they just exchanged, he's still willing to put Shuro's suit to her. Shuro didn't tell Falin he was interested in her until he proposed to her, but he's telling it all to Laios. Admittedly, this is because Laios is, Shuro assumes, the closest he'll ever get to being able to tell it all to Falin...but still. And he admits vulnerability, which he clearly wouldn't have done before, even to his most loyal and loved companions as they urged him to eat and sleep.
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Yeah, they're buddies. If I had to describe it, I'd say: their relationship was built on unsteady, false foundations, but they built something sturdy on it anyway, and the sturdy thing survives even when the foundations shake and re-settle.
Lol at Shuro. "I'm going to report you to the local authorities for your crimes because it's the right thing to do. But if you survive, I'll totally use my power and influence to help you flee the country, and live peacefully on my estate beyond where an extradition treaty can reach you."
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kedsandtubesocks · 1 year
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In the Woods (Somewhere) - Mothman!Gojo
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Ghost stories around the city whisper about a creature in the forest. They describe it as a moth like monster that only brings misfortune and death.
But what will you do as you learn these silly ghost stories are true flesh and bone… and now haunting you?
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pairing: satoru gojo x f!reader
wc: 12.9k
warnings & tags: 18+ only MDNI, monster x human relationship, loose interpretation of the mothman legends and stories, death mentions, protectiveness & obsession that can be read as slight yandere like, lot of bug discussion, monster transformation with a touch of body horror, wound licking, blood & tear consumption, magical healing, car accident, allusion to f!oral receiving, kidnapping, character deaths (this ends happy I promise) feral and lovesick Gojo, if there is anything I missed please let me know!
a/n: this is my first submission to @willowser Haunted House Collab and I’m so honored to be part of this! Thank you for putting this together dear Willow! The title is from the lovely Hozier song. Also a big thanks to @skeletoncowboys for letting me scream about this monster & to @stellamancer for always being my dearest comrade in Gojo hell, enjoy and thanks for reading! Stay spooky!
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Your grandfather once told you he believed butterflies were fairies and moths were angels.
It made sense to your child logic that butterflies could be fairy creatures. You even imagined fairies had butterfly wings. But, you had argued back in disgust that moths couldn’t be angels.
“Now now,” your grandpa had laughed. “Why can’t moths be angels?”
He gently explained moths were mainly seen in the evening and around light. He believed moths were the forms angels took to keep watch over everyone late in the night when no one believed they were being protected
“And,” he told you with all his sweet patience. “Something like a moth that loves the light can’t be bad.”
Scientifically you now understand moths mainly were nocturnal as a survival instinct for less predators and more opportunities for prey. Some were even active during the daytime. But your grandfather's words stay with you, etched into your heart.
He is why you are here after all.
The campus at night always holds a certain hollowness.
However, the storm that blew in yesterday continues looming with ominous clouds in the sky. It cast an early darkness against the city. The thick haze feels as if something could slink out of the shadows.
When you slip out of the research lab building there, against the light outside, one lone white moth flutters in the air.
Quickly glancing around the campus stretches out before you a vacant lot. In that moment of surveying, delicate wings rapidly flutter fast and wild against your face.
“Ack!” A surprised squawk leaves you at the moth’s sudden charge.
“I told you!” You hiss out waving the bug away. “You could’ve waited for me at home.”
The moth, outraged by your words, rushes against your face harder. Silk wings flap hard while it continues waving around your line of sight in a flurry.
“Calm down, you big baby!” You snap back annoyed and start stomping towards your car.
Now the little insect stops its fluttering attack to gently land on your face. As the bug travels across your cheek, its presence is a gentle tickling sensation. It finally stops and rests against you.
“Happy now?” You mutter low praying no one spots you with a large white moth on your face.
“I’m gonna pick up dinner. So are you getting in the car or meeting me back home?” You speak casual yet still within a low mutter.
With a delicate tickle again, the moth scurries across your cheek then across your nose making your lips twitch in a slight giggle.
Then the creature flutters away, your answer.
The pizzeria you end up at is adorably cozy. You spotted it during the drive to and from campus. Once you read the online reviews and got their blessing you decided to check it out.
Christmas lights hang from the takeout counter where you wait for your order. There’s even a quaint bar-like area. But what catches your attention is the small section of things littering the walls behind the counter.
It reminds you of a scrapbook.
Various newspaper clippings clutter one side. A few blurry photos are folded and pinned to the board. Plenty of hand drawn images scatter among the collage and they range from adorable to terrifying.
All of these things are about one single moth creature.
The board itself is even titled -
The Moth’s Nest.
Moth nests can be disastrous. They infect fast and are hard to exterminate. Plus once they create a nest, infestation is soon to follow.
“Ah, looking at our board.” A smooth voice purrs into the air and you turn towards it in slight embarrassment.
A beautiful blonde woman grins at you from behind the counter now.
“I heard the town had a moth thing but this…” from the drawings, which all included a strange humanoid like creature, this is far from the high moth population count it was known for.
The woman barks an amused laugh and it crinkles her rather lovely eyes.
“You could say that,” she grins. “You new here?”
“Sort of.” You nod. You’ve been here for almost a full semester now and you wonder if the newness will ever melt away.
“Well then, welcome to town!” The woman’s name is Yuki and for being a newcomer she pays for your pizza.
“Even though you got this for takeout, why don’t you stay? Eat here and keep me company.” She winks and you happily slide into the open seat she pulls up for you at the checkout counter.
“So what’s a lovely thing like yourself doing here?” Yuki asks smoothly and you almost choke on your first bite.
After she cackles a warm charismatic laugh, you swallow through your surprise and tell her.
“An en-tah what?” She caws confused like a bird and even her furrowed brows make you snicker.
“An entomologist,” you clarify.
In simple terms, you study bugs.
“Oh!” Yuki’s eyebrows fly fast up into her bangs as her eyes twinkle excitedly. “So you’re all about the creepy crawlers then.”
“Not all of them,” you reply back friendly.
You favored Odonatology and Lepidopterology.
The studies of dragonflies, damselflies, butterflies and in this case-
Moths.
“Well now,” Yuki grins and turns to glance at the board. “Looks like you’re in the right place to find moths.”
It was one of the reasons why you chose this program. The university boasted a plentiful and hands-on ecosystem to explore right within the town’s backyard. You just never expected an urban legend to come attached to the critter population.
Curiously you nudge your face towards the odd journalistic collection and ask about it.
Yuki’s face melts into a wistful look that casts a surprising shadow on her.
“It’s a creature that apparently lives in the woods…” she begins, low and steady.
No one knew how or when it began inhabiting the forest. Some argued it’s a simple folklore meant to scare rowdy kids from venturing into the woods.
“The stories say it’s an actual demon.” Yuki explains.
“There’s a belief that anyone who sees it either dies soon after or calamity befalls the town.”
Yuki’s words conjure up a poisonous fear. She adds how any sight of the cryptid, even in the strongest of nonbelievers, brought a sense of unease.
“But,” Yuki shrugs easily turning back to you. “Some people say that thing is a hero.”
The word hero gets tangled in your ribs
Your new friend explains there are those who have seen the beast and lived to tell a different tale.
Multiple children on different occasions have got lost in the woods. Yet, they always found their way out. Most of them claimed the moth creature helped them.
“There’s even an elderly man who went hiking and still swears up and down that thing saved him from getting attacked by a mountain lion.” Yuki comments.
“That’s a big claim.” You admire the thought of this monstrous creature possibly being a silent guardian. However, it festers something dangerous in your heart that weaves a sticky web.
The pizza on your plate grows cold. The lone drink you were nursing now is a watered down mess. You’ve lost your appetite and decide to head home.
There’s not much for your mind to process. It feels like the same sensation of walking out of a horror film and trying to understand what you saw. You try to rationalize this disorienting simply the same sensation you’d also get hearing ghost stories at sleepovers.
Yuki urges you with a warm charm that you’ll come and visit again, you promise her you will.
Walking out with leftovers in the box, the night greets you with a soupy fog. The lingering storms coat the streets in a mystic cloud.
You wonder if this clouded fog is inside your mind as well.
You’re about to take a step out into the parking lot when a horrifying animalistic shriek pierces the air.
It sounds distorted, a static shrill cry summoned from an ancient abomination.
The screech shoots straight into your bones startling you and making you jump in a pause.
In that moment a car speeding way too fast for a parking lot flies by you. It drives by with a whirling speed rattling the wind.
The noise, the shriek, stopped you from stepping out into the car’s path.
You mind buzzes, maybe too much. The gloomy air seeps into your skin and brings a heaviness over your body. You exhale shakily trying to just settle yourself as you head home.
When you return to the tiny closet of your apartment, there outside against the balcony door your white moth flutters furiously waiting for you.
Sliding the door open you’re about to greet your extra house guest until the text chime on your phone draws your attention away.
As you check your phone charging on the couch, a sudden thud lands against your apartment floors. The flapping of wings flutters into the room.
Before you can even turn around, a shadow falls over you. The presence of something large looms like a ghost, silent and steady yet radiating a chill besides you. Then a firm fuzzy face suddenly dives into the side of your neck burrowing against your skin.
“You need to be more careful.” A voice crystal and aware, yet flickering as if it speaks through the branches of the woods, clicks at you.
You think of the car that blazed by.
“It happens and I’m okay.” You reassure.
The inhuman face hiding in your neck draws back. Then a firm head soon enough gently butts against yours. The action jolts you out of your thoughts and you rapidly turn towards the heaviness leaning against you.
Crawled straight from the shadow of the woods, from the whispers of terrified stories, the creature before you still doesn’t seem real.
You think of Yuki and the moth’s nest board at the pizza shop. All the pictures depict the creature with haunting crimson eyes.
You wish you could have told Yuki the monster’s eyes aren’t red, but instead a piercing sky blue.
And instead of two eyes, the creature holds six beautiful eyes all over his face.
All six eyes of those eyes blink at you with the depth of a haunted lake shimmering within their gaze.
-.⊹˚₊⋆˙↟☾↟˙⋆₊˚⊹.-
“Why do you want to study insects?”
Discovering the cryptid could talk was honestly more surprising than discovering he was real.
Also, he had a name.
“Sa-to-ru.” He had told you, pronouncing its syllables as if your little human brain might not get it. It made you scowl. Yet the name itself sounded like something that fluttered out of the forest breeze.
Currently the moth creature, Satoru, sits happily on your apartment balcony under the dark cover of night. You have articles you need to read, lab reports to finish. But, you stay sitting on the floor beside him.
“My grandfather studied them.” You explain, giving the same answer you always do when this question is asked.
“He loved almost every type of bug there was.”
“Sounds like my type of human.” The moth amusedly chitters. “Love to meet him.”
“Honestly, he would’ve loved to meet you too.” You truthfully admit and almost grin thinking of how excited your grandpa would’ve been to see this creature.
“Unfortunately, he passed away a few years ago.” You add simply.
“Oh.” The cryptid replies quietly. “I’m sorry.”
You politely thank him.
“Is he the one besides the moth?”
You’re surprised Satoru even noticed that.
The frame sits on your eclectic shelf filled with books and trinkets. There’s two pictures in that frame. One is a photo of your grandfather during his days when he moved out here to teach at the university you currently attend. The other photo is you and him both holding up big nets when you were a little weed of a thing looking so happy besides him.
Besides those photos is his favorite sketch.
“It’s a luna moth, right?” He’s right again. Though, you’re not surprise he recognized it.
“Yup, the lunar moth was his favorite.” You fondly agree.
Actias luna.
Your grandpa used it as his example of how beautiful and lovely moths could be.
“He’s a man of good taste.” The moth compliments and for some reason it tugs at your lips. You can almost hear your grandfather's voice warmly boasting in pride.
“I wanna show you something, little human.” The moth quickly changes topic and when you turn to him, you find him grinning.
Rows of dangerous sharpened fangs flash within his mouth. They are a visible warning to not trust this creature, but you do.
“After your class this week, I’ll take you somewhere.” Satoru urges.
“Are you going to eat me?” You ask a bit stunned.
Satoru laughs, a flickering chirping noise that bounces off your apartment balcony.
“Oh little human, if I did eat humans I would’ve done that already.”
You glare at him but sighing you agree to whatever he has in store for you.
On your last class of the week, there outside against the campus street light your white moth flutters excitedly.
You think about how dangerous it is that he sticks around campus, even in this form.
With a rapid flurry he flies around your face. You can’t help but snort at the tickling sensation.
“Yeah I’m here, let’s go.” You tease.
Under the twilight hazee, you follow the moth into the woods.
The setting sun casts a shadow over the stretching forest. The trees silently watch your hesitant trek as you follow the moth further into the thickness.
Eventually you’re in the heart of it. No noise greets you, not even the rustling of birds or the fleeing of other animals. It’s as if in this depth all life had stilled. No movement or sign of life encroaches into this space. You realize this might have been the most ridiculous idea, following this cryptid myth into the unknown.
Suddenly the moth stops in front of a large solid tree.
“This is what you wanted to show me?” You’re a bit confused. The insect flutters around you in a huffy flight then goes to spin around the tree.
Satoru himself now slides out from behind the tree in his humanoid form.
“It’s not just a tree.” His six eyes narrow at you annoyed. Your eyes roll exhausted with him already.
“Do you trust me?”
The question surprises you.
Hesitantly you nod, a quiet yes. Satoru then effortlessly scoops you into his arms as if you weigh nothing.
A wild squeak escapes you. His firm arms hold you in his grasp and your mind starts scrambling being this close to him. The fur of his body tickles your arms and the solid warmth of him curls around you.
Satoru’s chittering laugh bounces among the trees.
He then takes flight.
You swallow back a petrified screech threatening to escape and simply let the wind rush around you. A solid thud comes, a landing.
“Open your eyes, little human.” Satoru whispers excited.
You hadn’t realized you had closed them.
The nest before you is a cobwebbed cocoon. You had never seen one this big. The opening of it is carved out wide, a webbed open maw with secrets trying to draw you in.
“Go in, you can see more.” His wistful voice skitters out playful, so light it could get caught in the tree branches.
He’s eager to show you this.
Hesitantly you lean into the nest just to glance inside.
It’s actually rather cozy. Webs and branches twist in a delicate pattern to create a solid enclosing. Leaves scatter the inside floor that is rather large. You can even imagine his large form curled in here cat-like as he sleeps.
“So? What do you think?” He asks with an anticipated edge blooming in his voice. He’s showing you his home.
You remember when he first showed himself to you, even gave you his name.
The logical reasoning within you thought many times about studying this cryptid. There was even a fleeting moment you considered capturing him and returning him back to the lab.
Now you are here discovering his home. You find yourself wanting to unearth as much as you can of this incredibly infuriating but wonderfully interesting creature.
“It’s nice!” You earnestly admire the space. Yet, the truth whispers a harrowing fact.
The bigger the nest, the bigger the infection and danger.
So you instead turn to glance out to the forest around. You’re so high above in the canopy of the trees. Silence seems to settle thicker here among the sky and it mingles with the evening darkness.
The forest, even as tranquil as it appears, holds a sense of loneliness you can’t fully describe.
“Have you been here at this spot for long?”
He chirps a humming yes.
“The high placement keeps me safe and away from prying eyes.” Among the trees and leaves he is simply a shadow.
“Do people try to hunt you?” That grim thought arrives.
“A few try, but no one’s even come close.” A cocky pride brims in Satoru’s tone.
You understand why people would try and search for him. But to hunt him like some prized sport? So you have to ask why.
“Besides some humans believe killing me will solve and save them from all their disasters, a select few who want me for other purposes.” Satoru muses as his antennas twitch.
“What other purposes?” You glance back at the cryptid perched on the solid large branch beside you.
In the dark, all six eyes glimmer with an animalistic reflection, a haunting gleam and reminder of the creature's true nature before you.
All those months ago, these multiple eyes stared at you from the edge of the woods by your apartment and the campus like silent terrors. Now they watch you with intent safety right by your side.
“There’s an old legend…” Satoru answers. “It says my kind could bring someone back from the dead.”
The words spark a curious flame in you.
“Wait, really? Is it true?”
The moth being simply shrugs, an action so human you almost want to laugh.
“Some believe it. That’s enough to hunt my kind.”
So many questions cluster in your mind. You wonder more about his kind, about him. Yet there is no way to scoop all those questions out.
All you can do is gaze out at the scenery before you.
The trees pierce the darkness with their own spiked tendrils. The night sky blankets above you with twinkle stars, glimmering pockets of faint light so clear.
Yet, for some reason this again feels so lonely.
Even with the stretching comforting woods, you can’t shake the sensation of solitude slipping out.
“So why do you still stick around?” You suddenly ask not even understanding why yourself.
“What? Around you or here?” He asks.
“Both.”
A chirp of a sigh comes, heavy with an ancient weary.
“I’ve thought about leaving, migrating somewhere else, somewhere safer.” His voice drops gently, a small click in the wind.
“But…” His voice trails off even more delicate.
“Something just keeps…pulling me back here. Like I’m meant to be here. That I’ve been waiting for something.” You’ve never heard him this wistful and distant.
Then his response also has you curious.
“Do you have any idea what it is?” You cautiously and gently press.
“No idea.” His answer is rapidly too casual that you snort, shaking your head.
“And why am I still hanging around you? Who knows, maybe I just like to bug you.”
The pun isn’t lost especially on you and you groan annoyed even though a smile twitches at your lips.
Among the shade of stars and shadow of the forest, you sit with a creature of the darkness.
-.⊹˚₊⋆˙↟☾↟˙⋆₊˚⊹.-
The moth had first appeared at your window balcony dancing around the light like an ethereal wisp of a spirit. It happily flew around you and even spun around your entire apartment. You eventually had to shoo it out.
For a while, it was simply you and this strangely persistent moth.
After that, six eyes began appearing at night at the edge of the woods. Strange clicks like howls erupted in the air, haunting lingering sounds that rattled you.
That same week the moth showed up to your apartment flying in a bit of distress. The wings of it flapped slower and you wondered if it was dehydrated or dying.
As you had opened the sliding door to the balcony, that’s when you first witnessed it.
Like butterflies, moths go through a similar life cycle of emerging from a pupa or chrysalis. The new adult insects must crawl out of its old cocoon. The process is the blend of life and destruction.
You discovered the same applied to moth creatures.
The wings fell first then the twisting and emergence of a body from the small frame transformed to life a fully formed creature.
That first time the moth creature metamorphosed on the balcony you screamed so loud your neighbor across the hall came worriedly to check on you.
You had hoped it was all just a bad dream…
Now when you return home early, that monster rests in your bed instead of lurking under it like all the scary stories whisper where monsters lie.
Curled within the sheets, burrowed deep and taking up the entire frame, the creature slumbers. You barely can spot Satoru underneath all the pillows. A few of your shirts peek out from the swirl of blankets and you try not to linger on that.
The messy twisted bed cocoon however does make you think of the grand nest you saw.
A faint snore grumbles out into the room. The muffled animalistic noise should frighten you. Instead it echoes a soothing rumble as you go to make dinner.
In the meditative process of cutting, claws scratching against the tile floor startles you. Your heart skips at the sudden noise and your face whips to the entryway.
In this form, the moth cryptid has to hunch from touching the ceiling.
Satoru’s imposing frame fills up the entire space even with his thick wings folded to his body. The intricate beautiful antennas on top of his head flicker curious. Among the monstrous features, human-like qualities are visible in his arms, his legs, and the core of his body. Yet even in that familiarity, he is covered in sleek fur.
The sigh of this unbelievable being in this tiny kitchen almost has you laughing. Months ago this would have made you scream in terror. Now, his existence has settled into your life a strange blooming metamorphosis.
Then all six of Satoru’s clustered eyes go wide in terror.
His talons rattle rapidly on the floor as he scurries to your side.
“Your hand.” He comments sharply.
Glancing down, blood trickles over your hand and drips softly onto the cutting board. The cut thankfully isn’t deep, simply sliced the top of your finger.
“Guess that means I’m ordering out.” You mutter.
However your new companion immediately snags your hand.
Satoru’s grasp is hard, a terrified clutch as if he’s worried the cut will worsen. Flickering your gaze to him now, all six eyes focus at your hand with a startling petrified seriousness.
“I’m fine.” You reassure. “Let me just grab a band aid.”
The creature’s firm hold is unrelenting, refusing to budge even as you tug to release your hand.
“Hey-” you’re about ready to chide him and urge him to let go-
Until the moth cryptid leans down and with a long thin tongue begins licking at your wound.
Air gets knocked out of your lungs.
You mind can’t process the sight but the wet tickle of his tongue swiping along your skin grounds you. Satoru’s tongue swipes frantically and fast, a panic.
A dangerous heat runs up your arm and claws at your chest. This shouldn’t feel this intimate. Yet, it does.
You can’t even exclaim in surprise because in the small dimly lit kitchen, the moth has you under his spell.
Instead of the panic, there’s now an eased almost lazy and leisurely lap at your skin. The way his tongue slides across you is as if he’s trying to savor you. It slithers with a reverence between your knuckles, across your fingers, and your mind slowly melts.
Then with one last slow deliberate lick, Satoru draws back.
A daze has fallen over your foggy mind filled with smoke until you blink and notice your cut is gone.
Blood faintly lingers around his mouth, coloring the white fur of his face and it should scare you. And it does but the fear comes from how gorgeous he looks, and knowing it’s your blood…
The thin tongue immediately darts out to lick at the bloody traces.
The sight teeters into an overwhelming sensation and you forcibly break your focus to glance back at your healed hand.
“You have healing powers?” You croak out trying to process the sight.
“No.” For a creature that lives in the woods, he understands sarcasm rather well.
You glare at the creature who now tilts his face away. He avoids your eyes as he fiddles with the edge of your shirt.
“Moths can't heal.” You comment.
“I’m not like a typical moth now am I, little human?”
That damn nickname.
Annoying as Satoru is, you still can’t believe the sight of your healed fingers.
“Thank you for healing me.” You mutter still not able to process but are grateful all the same.
The moth creature hums a proud amused thing you quietly ignore.
Moths didn’t have healing properties. Hawk Moths could recreate antioxidants in their body to replenish themselves. You wonder if that’s how Satoru operates with his abilities.
Another part of you, one that sounds warmly like your grandfather’s voice, whispers that the creatures of this world simply hold mysteries we may not ever know.
You suppose the cryptid refusing to leave your side is the solidified truth of that.
Suddenly Satoru’s head softly plops against the top of yours.
With soft gentle rumbles he rubs his face into your hair.
“You know,” you begin softly as your fingers itch to run up against his fur. “You don’t have to keep sticking around here.”
“Hm?” Satoru hums out a bit dreamily.
“You can go back to where you’re from. You don’t need to keep staying with me out of obligation for freeing you or feeling like… you have a debt you want to repay.” You breathe the words out firmer.
The nuzzling against your head stops.
“Oh?” Satoru begins with a curious chirp. “That’s not why I stay.”
His confident reply stills you.
“Like I said maybe I just like bugging you.” He grins coy. “And besides, I stay because eating the fabric of your clothes is pretty nice free food and I like scaring away any humans that might come by.”
“You bring me closer to buying an electric fly swatter!” You screech and swat him away.
“Aw, don’t be like that!” He whines and flutters his wings almost taken back.
You ignore him and his annoying clicks vying for your attention while you order dinner for the night.
“I forget…Humans are so easily annoyed. You most especially.” He says bristly and it’s the last straw.
Healing your arm or not, this creature manages to wiggle under your skin in a way that no one else has. You blame the damn moth for how on edge you feel. Yet the truth lies in the strange unfathomable heat still brewing under your skin.
As you leave you get food you stare at him hard. You sling the balcony door open, a silent demand he leaves. His multiple eyes, shimmering sapphires, search your face.
“I see...” His reply is a brisk breeze.
Turning your back to him, you head to grab your keys. You don’t even see him leave and instead stomp to head out.
You even fully close your bedroom window. It’s the crack of an entrance you’ve recently been leaving open that allows him to flutter in when he’s a smaller moth.
Now as leave you’re thankful for the momentary space from the infuriating infestation.
Against the early night sky the pizzeria glows an electric beacon against the darkness. Clamoring chatter and an upbeat song greet you when you step inside. You’re not surprised it’s packed on a night like this.
Yuki yells a bright excited welcome at you from across the restaurant and it warms you.
Now leaning at the bar your attention can't help but find its way to the bulletin board by the entryway. Even with the annoyance and conflicting desire, seeing the arranged clutter about the local moth creature draws out a strange sinking feeling within you.
“You interested in the bug?”
A deep rumble of a voice drips out smooth and breaks your focus immediately.
Turning to the side, you discover you’re not alone at the bar.
The man is thick, solidly built and strikingly handsome. He seems older than you, with an aged weathered dignified presence about him. With only black hair and a scar across the corner of his lip, he sits looking bored at the counter with a toothpick in his mouth.
“It’s interesting.” You admit truthfully.
“Think the bug is real?” The man questions with the faintest hint of curiosity.
You shrug again. “Anything is possible I guess.”
“Indeed it is.” Now his voice holds an interested purr that sticks to your skin in an uncomfortable way.
Your eyes flicker back to him and you find his attention however is on the board.
“Some say it’s a demon.” He suddenly adds.
“I’ve heard.” You agree calmly.
“Whatever it is…it’s bad luck.” The mystery man says briskly.
You heard that as well.
“Some say it’s not.” For some reason, a small protective spike rises in you and you even think about Yuki calling it a hero.
“Yeah well, everyone can read an omen wrong I guess.” His words cast a dangerous thickness into the air that slithers up your skin.
“Besides, there’s an old legend I heard once.” he continues.
“It says…if a moth flies into your home it means someone is going to die.”
Dread crashes into your body and consumes you quickly. You’ve never heard that saying before and it bubbles an awful bile in your stomach making you feel sick.
“That’s awful.” You can’t help but answer back sharply it even surprises you.
You think of your grandfather, his belief moths were angels, and how that guided you to where you are now.
And you can’t help but think of the moth in question.
“Sorry, didn’t mean to upset you.” He leans back into his seat to stare at you.
No response for him seems to come to mind. If anything, a strange chill trickles down your spine as if you’re staring down a creature surveying and waiting to strike.
Yuki calls out your name and breaks your focus.
“Wish I could stay and chat but we’re a bit busy tonight!” She winks at you and now you grin, eased at her presence.
You wish her a good night and begin gathering your order to leave.
“Be careful out there.” The stranger mutters. Your eyes flicker to him. His attention is back on the slice of pizza before him.
“Don’t know what might be out there trying to fly into your house this time of night.”
His words create a sticky cobweb of emotions in you. You simply take your food and rush out.
Driving back to the apartment you glance at your hand fully healed and still lingering with the phantom sensation of the moth’s tongue licking at your skin.
You think of how effortlessly this strange creature carved a space in your life.
Now a sense of danger prickles against your skin, like the way the air tightens electric before a storm.
When you arrive home, a silent apartment greets you. The emptiness clouds your space and the walls creep in close and cold.
A piece of you expected him to return, maybe even hoped. But trying to sort through those emotions again bubbles a strange ache in your chest.
Before you go to bed you slightly open your bedroom window and settle under the covers. Closing your eyes, you accept the silence and solitude lingering in your room and heart.
Sleep trickles in faintly. You fade in and out of being awake.
Then your bed shifts.
A heaviness immediately curls against you. The softest brush of moth wings graze your arm. Soft chirps, faint and delicate, float into the room.
Satoru’s face burrows against the top of your head, a silent apology.
This is new.
He’s never done this before. He’s never slept on your bed with you. But your heart races too fast in your chest and your mind still feels so clouded from this night that you can’t even react.
Or, you don’t want to react.
This is new, yes. But a wild desperation inside of you sinks its claws into this new proximity. You simply keep your eyes closed and shift to settle deeper into the bed, deeper into his warmth.
The smell of the brisk forest, clear and earthy, lulls you to sleep.
Waking up the next morning, you’re alone.
A part of you wonders if you dreamed his return.
Yet on your nightstand rests a sweet plucked wildflower that wasn't there before. It greets you a bright good morning.
-.⊹˚₊⋆˙↟☾↟˙⋆₊˚⊹.-
Your open apartment balcony door brings in a warm evening breeze. A favorite series of yours plays on the television as you grab another mouthful of popcorn.
“Can I have some?” Satoru whimpers.
“No.” You answer through the mouth of popcorn.
“So mean! Why are you so cruel to me, little human!?” He pouts and you simply ignore him.
Even with the moth creature crouching on the floor his body still looks frightfully full and large. His fur is fluffed out more and he almost looks adorable like this simply sitting beside you.
His presence should create a distorted sense of reality. Yet no sense of panic rises within you. If anything, only more curiosity has started gnawing in you.
What kind of moth species did he originate from? Where was he even originally from? Did he have a family?
“What’s your favorite human activity to do?” It seems you were not the only one curious.
Recently Satoru has begun pestering you with a plethora of questions from what foods did you like the most to these more strange human specific ones.
“Don’t know, I have a lot.” You answer truthfully.
You rationalize all the questions you have and that he even asks are mutual inquisitive curiosity about the other’s species, a chance to learn.
Except, for you, the source of your curiosity masquerades as a yearning you don’t want to hunt out yet.
“Humans are terrified of the oddest things.”
Satoru’s comment breaks your thoughts.
You turn towards the creature who stares at the television with all six eyes.
The series you had put on had been an old favorite of yours, supernatural and fantasy based. The main heroes in this episode were being terrorized by monsters that came alive from a children’s book of old fairy tales.
“Well this series is older so the effects and monster makeup isn’t all that impressive.”
“Not that.” The moth corrects you quickly. “I mean that creature isn’t even scary.”
You want to make a comment about how of course a creature that crawled from the woods and haunts a town would not find this terrifying.
“What are you afraid of?” Again the moth humanoid questions.
You shrug. “A lot of things.”
“You don’t need to be afraid of anything.” He chirps so matter of factly it surprises you. “Especially because I’m here now.”
You can’t help but roll your eyes at his cocky boast. Yet your heart flips at the protective claim.
“But…I do think humans may be the scariest creatures of all.” Satoru notes with a wistful distance in his voice.
You wonder if he’s trying to tease you or even be a bit poetically pessimistic.
“I agree.” You nod reaching for popcorn. “Humans can sometimes be scary.”
In all the beauty that comes with being human, you know there is a darkness that comes with the territory. The lovely prickle of rain starting to fall soothes you as the episode jumps to the next.
It’s one of your favorites. The main character gains a secret wish stone that transforms into her love interest because she desires and wishes for him most of all.
You rise to the kitchen to grab a drink.
“What do you wish for most, little human?”
His words stop you frozen. They come out so simple, a curious purr almost.
Your mind tries to reach towards something noble and grand like to wish for world peace or wish for climate change to end. You think of wishing for a better car, better apartment, to get rid of your money problems.
Yet it all cultivates into a simple easy response.
“Love, I guess.” It’s a simplified answer.
“That?” Even Satoru sounds dubious.
“Yeah…love. If you have love, then everything else sort of just falls into place.” With love at the cornerstone, everything can build from there.
A chittering like sigh dances into the room.
“Boring. At least say something interesting like an endless supply of sugar or something like that.”
You can’t help but snort at such a silly answer.
“Is that you’d wish for then?” You now ask the creature.
“Mhm…maybe. Or maybe something extra special your little human mind couldn’t comprehend.” Such a coy response only makes you roll your eyes.
But for some reason, that answer feels heavy like it needs to be unearthed. You don’t push the answer, or him.
As you clean up around the kitchen, you glance back to the living room. There Satoru rapidly consumes all your popcorn as fast as he can.
“You freaking pest!” You screech annoyed and he simply blinks his six blue marble eyes at you as if he did nothing wrong.
“I’m not a pest.” He replies innocently and it annoys you even more.
“You’re literally a moth! What is more pest-like than that?!”
Satoru’s monstrous face flickers. It faintly crumbles until his eyes hollow out a cold downcast.
“Right there? You just sounded just like every other human.” His words, low, raw and sharp, rip through you.
He doesn’t say it but you hear the undercurrent.
I thought you were better than that.
A festering ache swells in your chest as the weight of his words drag you under.
Quietly you start making two bowls of popcorn now. You grab the chocolate syrup. Satoru had a fierce sweet tooth. It took you by surprise when your gas station candy treat went missing and his sticky fur said enough.
So you drizzle plenty of chocolate over the salty snack then you quietly speak.
“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that.”
A moment of silence fills the space.
“It’s alright little human... Sometimes I forget your little human brain makes so many mistakes like that. I can’t get too mad.” He chirps so bored.
You’re tempted now to throw away the chocolate popcorn.
Thankfully the air seems to lighten as you head back to the living room two popcorn bowls in hand.
There Satoru’s multitude of eyes are entirely glued to the television now. The familiar dialogue comes and you whip your attention to the screen as well.
The big realization between the main heroine and her love interest unfolds as he realizes what her wish manifested as.
The moment is heated, drenched in undeniable chemistry. The magnetic pull even has you entrapped. Then the love interest without hesitation pulls the heroine and kisses her with a fierce released love.
Now it feels so intimate, too raw to watch. You turn away under the guise of grabbing more popcorn.
“Is that how humans show affection?” Satoru’s voice is a curious twinkle of a chirp.
“Yup,” you weakly agree while you check your phone hoping to seem disinterested.
“Seems aggressive.” For some reason his disgusted comment makes you snort.
“Uh, it depends. Kissing is…” there’s much you can say on the manner but you simply shrug.
“It’s nice.” A simple but true answer.
“What’s it feel like?” The question drips with an inquisitive click but for some reason it slithers dangerously under your skin.
“Uh…again, it depends. There’s different types of kisses for different situations and the emotions can change with them.” You explain.
“Sounds complicated.” Satoru muses and you snicker relaxed with the episode ending.
“I thought you knew all about human interactions?” You now ask, curious yourself.
“Not in that way.” That’s fair.
“Or really…I’ve just never been interested in seeing humans interacting in that way.” He adds rather low.
“Until recently.” That addition he gives cuts across you as if it’s covered with sharp glass edges.
“Guess this series does that, even to moth creatures.” You lightly try diffusing whatever shift starts to swirl in the room and drag you into its current.
Satoru stays quiet, curled into himself and his wings. Very faintly his antennas droop, enough that you notice it.
Rain now steadily prattles on peacefully mixing with the episode playing. Yet in the silence your skin crawls with something unspoken you can’t evade.
You close your eyes hoping to avoid any more questions and pretend you’ve fallen asleep. Naturally, a nap overtakes you and you jolt awake when a text message brightly wakes you up.
“So what episode are we on?” You sleepily ask, noticing the cryptid hasn’t left. Evening would be arriving soon, the time Satoru normally slipped back into the woods.
“A weird one.” He mutters and now curiosity flickers in you over which episode it is.
Your eyes widen.
Of course it would be this one.
The heroine’s best friend falls in love with a monster living in a cave. It’s another one of your favorites. Now, the obvious reality sinks its fangs into your throat.
“This is the most ridiculous one by far.” Satoru scoffs. “No human would actually love a monster like this.”
His words deflate something in you. All the nerves and prickling emotions scatter.
“I don’t know.” You offer back lightly. “Maybe there’s something extra human to love a monster.”
All six eyes rapidly blink towards you. Their glassy yet sharp attention focuses so intently and it’s unnerving.
“You don’t mean that.” He snips and it distorts his voice more than normal.
You shrug.
“What do you mean by that?” He annoyingly asks, persistent.
What you mean is sometimes humanity can see through what society deems as monstrous and instead love the core of what a being is.
“I mean, it’s like what the episode says,” you nudge towards the television.
“If love is fanged even between humans, why can’t a monster find that same love?” You quote it vaguely but enough to capture the core.
The same goes for humans you explain.
“Cause like what we said earlier, humans are a bit scary from time to time right? A little bit monstrous ourselves?”
So why not settle with a love fanged and coated in the shadows.
The episode takes a shift when the heroine’s best friend greedily kisses the bat-like creature. An electric desire jolts across your spine as it dries your throat.
“I never knew humans could…desire something like this.” Satoru’s eyes now unabashedly stare at the television with a religious focus almost afraid to look away.
“Some do.” You try sounding casual, but your voice croaks.
A heavy fog clouds your mind. Before he can ask or comment anything else you brightly announce you’re going to take a shower. You scurry to the bathroom without even once glancing at the moth monster.
It’s a pathetic excuse but it’s early evening now. This decision isn’t entirely out of the blue. You just need to cool down and take yourself away from the moment.
However, under the weight of the water, under the heat of the steam, you try washing away the festering arousal seeping into your veins.
The episode flashes in your mind. Except this time you picture yourself in the arms of the towering moth creature.
This danger has been brewing well beneath the surface and now slips past its shackles.
It rips you open raw and wild, unrelenting in a way that a slick heat already pools between your legs. You should not, by all rational means, be attracted much less so attached to this monster. Yet, you are.
You remember how easily he swept you into his arms, how solid and built his frame is. He is stunning. You can’t even deny that.
You even think about how comforting a presence he was in your bed. Those thoughts melt and mutate dangerously.
Now, you imagine how warm and solid he would feel against you, between your legs. What he looks like drunk on pleasure-
Exhaling shakily, you turn the shower as cold as you can.
When you return to the living room after the shower, the sliding door is still wide open. Rain continues to twinkle its beautiful song into the living room, a living room now very vacant.
No moth creature is in sight and the bowl of chocolate drizzled popcorn remains untouched.
-.⊹˚₊⋆˙↟☾↟˙⋆₊˚⊹.-
In the research lab you grade quizzes from the class you work assisting with. This time during the week the lab is thankfully empty and it gives you time
to catch up on your articles and work.
A surprise knock however disrupts that peace.
Your advisor walks in with a warm grin. Besides her is the man from the bar.
A confused anxiousness seizes your heart and you try keeping your face composed.
You politely smile as your advisor calls your name.
“This is Toji Fushiguro. He’s an agent from the local conservation group trying to investigate where our dear little moth friend went.” Your advisor explains polite and casual.
Your heart sinks rapidly.
The unknown moth had been in a large observation box the first time you saw it.
It had been a new and recent find. Being a first year in the program, you simply were allowed to watch and observe the new species.
Bigger than a typical silk moth, the unidentified moth had beautiful intricate designs on its wings you’d never seen. The little creature was also incredibly feisty. On multiple occasions it flew into the side of the box as if trying to push its way out.
Now that glass enclosure sits empty.
“Do you think it would be alright if he asks you a few questions?”
You happily agree hoping that cooperating will divert any attention from yourself.
With a grin your advisor leaves the room to give you and Fushiguro space. Now alone with the man from the bar, he sleepy grins a coy amused thing.
“So, we meet again.” That deep voice sulks out with a lure that feels poisonous and sticky.
“We do.” You nod politely.
“Shouldn’t be surprised you’re a bug fan.” He scratches at his jaw and for some reason his casual attitude towards you twists your stomach.
You want to make a witty comeback but nothing comes to mind. Instead you stare down this mysterious man.
“What makes a cutie like you get into bugs huh?” He asks casually.
“My grandfather.” You answer truthful and curt.
“Hm, that’s nice.” Fushiguro nods understandingly.
His eyes begin scanning the lab with that same boredom he wore at the restaurant bar.
“So when did ya let the moth escape?” His relaxed question makes you choke.
“Excuse me?!” You snap. “I didn’t let the moth out.”
Except you had.
The first night you stayed late at the lab you accidentally forgot to close the windows.
In that mishap, the moth escaped. You were thankful another class used the lab after you and disrupted the possibility of anything being pinned to you.
The department of course was a bit disheartened. However, everyone warmly joked about half of the job of being an entomologist is chasing after things way too fast to catch.
That happened months ago.
“I’m going to be honest with you.” Toji Fushiguro leans against the table with a brazen ease. “I’m here looking for that thing cause it’s dangerous.”
For some reason, you don’t fully believe him.
“Remember what I told you about moths? They’re bad luck.” His stare is unwavering and cold.
“That’s arguable.” You surprisingly fire back.
Toji Fushiguro shrugs. He slides his hands into his jogger pant’s pockets.
“If that’s all you wanted to discuss, then I need to ask you to please leave. I have work to do.” You answer sharp and composed.
He simply shrugs again and pushes himself off the table he leans against.
Without another word Toji Fushiguro simply heads to the door. Before he leaves the man stops.
“That bad luck I told you about? S’gonna catch up to you soon, pretty. Just want to give you a warning.”
It sounds like a threat instead of a warning.
At his words a venomous bile pools in your mouth and you almost want to snarl at this man. He leaves with just a casual wave of his hand and not another word.
The rest of the time in the lab you can’t focus on anything. You simply float in this strange inertia.
When you leave, no moth flutters outside to greet you.
A new wave of terror wiggles through your stomach.
Your apartment is also deadly silent. Worry prickles all over your body as you slide open the balcony door. You even peer out into the woods hoping to find six gleaming eyes staring out.
Yet only the darkness, eternal and empty, stares back an ancient unforgiving warning.
So try pushing aside this rattling worried energy. You try to make dinner, even put on a favorite movie for background noise.
Your mind however can’t leave the thought of Toji Fushiguro. Mainly, you worry about the absence of your moth. Fear eats away at you as if an actual creature has crawled inside.
And maybe he has.
You miss him. You miss Satoru. You’re worried about him.
He’s become a staple in your life, a strange fixture pestering you. You can’t imagine a day without his presence now.
Then a realization trickles in a slow and sticky truth.
He is a creature of the woods, a myth of the darkness. Maybe he never meant to be yours.
Now here you are. A selfish human simply trying to keep him all to yourself.
A sudden clash of something solid rams into the balcony rail. You can’t help but shriek.
Thee moth creature rapidly shoves his way into your living room. He crawls inside feral like something out of a horror movie.
“Satoru!” You cry out his name and rush towards him.
Satoru’s piercing sky eyes, all six of them, are wide and frantic. His gaze darts around the room. Then he begins sniffing around the space.
“Someone’s been in here.” Satoru’s voice drops, a waterlogged frantic gurgle.
“Wait what?” You ask terrified. “How do you know?
You start glancing around the room now and follow Satoru as he continues rapidly smelling the space. There are no signs of someone breaking in and entering. Nothing even seems out of place or stolen.
“I smell something new. It’s not either one of our scents.” Satoru’s voice drips with a sharp dread and it chokes you.
“What does that mean?” You croak trying not to get caught up in the terror and panic, but their current is so strong.
Suddenly Satoru whips around.
There in the hallway of your apartment he completely consumes the entire space with his imposing frame. The darkness of the hallway and dim lighting casts a grim shadow over him. His wide frantic eyes are animalistic, more than you’ve ever seen.
His shoulders heave with rapid breaths. In a blink Satoru suddenly crams his body against yours.
This giant of a monster curls down to crouch into you. His face begins rubbing against yours. Soft growl like purring rumbles into the air.
You can’t help but whimper his name as fear has you in its maw.
What’s going to happen? What could you do?
You try to voice these questions, these worries, but the words get tangled in your throat.
“Nothing will harm you.” Satoru snaps deadly as the edge of his tone wavers into a frayed growl.
Those strange humming clips and chirps he makes float into the air while he continues comforting you.
Clawed hands curl into your back with a noticeable pressure. There’s a hint of danger in his tight grasp. But then you realize you’re also clutching onto him with an iron hold.
Frustratedly you try blinking away tears managing to stubbornly spill down your cheeks.
Satoru, who still rubs his monstrous face against yours, immediately notices your tears.
A distressing chattering noise comes and you’re readying to reassure him you’re fine.
His tongue instead moves to lick at your tears.
The action stills you immediately. The slick appendage rapidly slithers across your face trying to quickly wipe away your tears.
You think about when he healed your hand, when his tongue wiggled across your skin to lap at your blood. Now here he is again, consuming you, trying to heal and comfort you.
His tongue however slides down across your cheeks tasting the salt of your skin. It immediately sparks to life an intoxicating heat that drowns out the panic.
A part of you wonders about the danger swirling around him and how there might be a possibility that doom is seeping into you.
This might be your doom, to adore a creature composed of myth and nightmare.
You blink and a few lingering tears rapidly run down your cheek straight to the corner of your lip.
Satoru, fast as ever, moves to lick them up. In the process his tongue slithers close to your lips, running across the edge of them.
You inhale sharply and your eyes can’t help but snap open wide. You’re breathing heavily. The way Satoru’s large shoulders begin heaving, so is he.
Suddenly he breathes out your name and it gets tangled in your heart.
“Mine.” Then his voice, animalistic and monstrous, cracks the air with a low possessive growl.
His tongue begins running across your lips without hesitation. The wet wiggling intense sensation has your eyes closing in absolute bliss. You sigh and want to open your mouth to let his tongue slip inside.
“You’re mine.” He snarls out feral and wild. Those strange clicks of his come faster and soon enough his claws draw you closer.
Suddenly Satoru inhales deeply against your skin.
Then he groans a terrible wonderful noise that makes your knees buckle.
“Oh you smell so good.” He slurs. He continues to smell every inch of your skin, trying to map and memorize your scent.
A whimper escapes you and Satoru rumbles out a comforting click.
He begins dragging his down your body with a focused intent.
“Stronger, it’s getting stronger.” He mutters against your clothes.
“Satoru-” you say his name a bit worried.
The moth creature shoves his face unabashedly against your clothed sex. He groans loud, almost debauched and all thoughts float out of you. His antennas rapidly twitch.
“Oh it’s here.” Satoru mumbles in awe, possessed, as if he’s found a deity. “You smell so good here.”
He growls frustrated as he tries burrowing his face closer and closer to your dripping arousal.
You croak out his name waterlogged.
Satoru snaps to look up at you from his knees. All six eyes are glossy and frantic.
“Please? Please, my little human, can I have more?” He begs.
That’s when you notice his mouth is wet drenched with saliva. He’s drooling at just the thought of you, drunk on your smell.
All you can do is nod, caught in the same intoxication desire.
Effortlessly he claws apart your pants at the seam and dives in. You can’t even chide him for that.
Your mind goes blank, consumed by pleasure and lost in its woods. As you cry out while his thin tongue runs up and down every inch of you, you realize Satoru is right.
You are his. And maybe he is yours.
Satoru arrived in your life and never left. He instead stayed in the safety of your light with you under the cover of his wings.
-.⊹˚₊⋆˙↟☾↟˙⋆₊˚⊹.-
“Don’t go to class today.” The moth mumbles.
Satoru has been glued to your side since the discovery of your intruder last week. He barely leaves the apartment and when he does it’s only because you need to leave. Currently he sits on the bedroom floor with wide sleep deprived eyes.
The antennas on top of his head flicker quickly. He’s tried been pushing himself to stand guard even during the day.
“I’ll be fine, it’s just a lecture.” You reassure him.
“Besides, you should take this time to sleep. You need to rest.”
“I’ll be fine.” He mirrors your words back to you.
Your monster’s six eyes hold a daze focused like he’s trying to be aware of everything all at once. Slowly and delicately you let your hand run against his soft face.
The delicate fur, now a tangible dream under your fingertips, is so sulky. The touch jolts the creature into awareness.
Satoru’s eyes all flutter you and instantly his face melts against your hand.
“Don’t go.” He whispers a static like mumble.
“I’ll be okay.” You even lean down to kiss the side of his face.
“Fine, then I’m going.” He snaps a firm unwavering decision and you can’t argue with him.
As you walk to the lecture hall building he flutters so swiftly and dizzying in his normal moth form. He even flies all around your face, another angry urging for you to not go.
You gently hold out your hand. Slowly the moth flutters to land on top of your hand.
He is gorgeous in every form including this one. Shimmering wide eyes, large intricate wings, all composed in this sweet creature furiously crawling over your hand.
“I know you’re still upset, but I’ll be fine.” You softly reassure him for the hundreth time.
He stops and stares at you. Gently you run a finger across his fuzzy little head careful to not touch his antennas.
He flies from your hand and lands immediately on the corner of your lips.
A goodbye kiss.
Your lips twitch amused and deeply fond.
“I’ll see you when class is over.” With that you head to class.
Walking into the classroom, one of your peers excitedly speaks to everyone present in the room.
“Did you guys hear?! Someone just saw the mothman thing on campus a few minutes ago?!”
Terror unfolds in you and your heart collapses among its cage. He must have transformed in the woods, or in flight.
“Really? Are you sure?” A skeptic quickly emerges and you cling to their words.
“No I swear! Everyone’s been talking about it online! So many people saw it fly into the trees by the woods!”
You haven’t been this terrified since the contained moth was missing or since you first saw six reflective eyes staring at you from the dark.
Chatter breaks out immediately with so many discussions. Some of your classmates show their disbelief while others eagerly ask for more information.
You try to keep your composure as you slide into your seat.
“Hey,” someone says your name. Your friend that sits next to you stares at you with a scrunched up face of concern.
“You okay? You look kinda sick.” She frowns.
You wearily smile and use the excuse that you have been under the weather. A cold chill even runs up your spine.
“Then head back home,” she comforts you with understanding eyes. “I’ll send you the notes from today and let you know if you miss anything.”
Grateful you wearily thank her and she nods warm, reassuring, wishing you rest. As you turn to head out you catch the last bit of conversation bubbling along with your classmates.
“Well…if someone saw the moth thing, doesn’t that mean something bad is gonna happen soon?”
“Yeah that’s what the legend says.” Someone grimly agrees.
Scrambling, you shove yourself out of the classroom before you hear anything else.
Now out of the room you shakily exhale trying to calm yourself down.
At this time in the evening the hallways are deathly silent, harrowingly so. Unlike the lab building, so open and light with its many windows and expanded hallways, the lecture hall building’s tight corridors create a haunting clustered stillness.
That stillness seems to be creeping in more and more.
As you walk towards the elevator, sudden footsteps begin stomping behind you.
They are solid and firm, staying a decent pace away from you. The anxiousness from these past few days create an unbearable itch that crawls over your skin.
So you turn around.
And the hallway is dead empty.
No one walks behind you.
Fear tastes icy and rotten as it infects your body. Instantly you whip around to rush to the elevator.
You clash straight into someone.
The collision knocks you out of your thoughts and you quickly blink into focus.
A rush of apologizes stammer out of you.
“Hey, it’s okay.” The man you ran into warmly reassures you.
You finally get a good look at him. He’s handsome with a strong jaw and a faint mustache. He looks official in his suit. The smell of cigarettes surround you.
“Actually, I was wondering if you could help point me in the direction of the main office.” The man smiles warmly.
This had to be the source of the footsteps you heard. The dread you have slowly simmers at the sight of him.
“Oh course.” You grin weakly at the man, thankful your fear is calming down. “You have to go down to the other end of this hallway-”
A sudden hand comes up from behind you.
It slaps over your mouth with a painful grip. Then something sharp pierces your neck.
The scream from your throat fades along with your focus.
The last thought flashing through your mind before you fade into darkness is that Satoru was right.
You shouldn’t have gone to class.
-.⊹˚₊⋆˙↟☾↟˙⋆₊˚⊹.-
The jostling of your body wakes you up.
Groggily you blink into focus. You first notice it’s late at night. Next, you’re laid across the back seat of a car and your hands are tied.
In the front seats sit the man you ran into at the school and Toji Fushiguro. You go to scream but a tightly wrapped cloth blocks your mouth.
“You’re awake.” Toji drawls out slowly and surprised.
You screech at him through the material.
“Yeah, I knew you were with the moth this entire time.” He grins at you through the rear window.
You continue to scream as best as you can, sounding feral and panicked as tears fill your eyes.
“Guess living with a monster makes you sound this wild.” Toji Fushiguro’s accomplice mutters without even glancing once at you.
He begins typing away on his phone.
“We got more buyers willing to pay if we bring the moth in alive.” The man comments.
Everything clicks.
They were after Satoru. And you’re the bait.
Maybe Fushiguro’s accomplice is right. Maybe living with a monster has leaked into you because the noise you make doesn’t sound human.
Your scream, still stifled, carries so many emotions. Your pain, terror, anger and frustration, all of it courses through your veins and rips out in waves.
“Hey.” Toji Fushiguro glances back at you from the rear mirror. “Keep it down. I don’t wanna get too aggressive, but I will.”
He casually pulls out a gun and waves it around.
The horrifying casual threat causes your eyes to go wide and now all the fight you had trickles out.
“Watch it!” Suddenly the man in the driver's seat screams out.
Your eyes flicker forward.
Against the darkness, illuminated by the car’s headlights, a looking figure stands in the middle of the road.
Six eyes stare out from the darkness a brilliant terrifying electric blue. Delicate wide moth wings flare out and break against the night.
Through the fabric you scream out his name, except it gets drowned out by the revving of the engine.
Toji speeds up with full intent to hit the creature.
“What are you doing?!” The other man cries out.
You even scream in panic. Your moth however flies up, missing the impact.
He’s gone from sight.
A solid clang lands on the roof.
A sharp stab pierces the top of the car with a snap. The screeching of metal being ripped away follows fast. The eyes of the monster stare into the car with a disastrous terror.
Satoru smiles wild and gleeful at the men, a predator that's captured its prey.
Then…Everything happens in a blink.
The car swerves. The speed makes you feel as if you are flying. The colliding noise of scraping metal and then a solid impact. Everything becomes distorted as if you are in a snow globe spinning and trying to focus on a dizzying fuzzy world.
An unholy monstrous scream rips into the air. It’s all you hear as you fade in and out of consciousness.
You blink and suddenly twigs from the forest floor press against your body. A sharp object pierces your side. Every inch of you screams in pain while also a numbing sensation starts creeping in.
An inhuman roar screeches out and your eyes snap open.
Off to the side along the trees you see the faint edge of Satoru within the darkness. Faintly you hear a wet ripping sound. It’s visceral, like a vulture digging into a macabre carnage.
You watch his clawed hands viscously dig into whatever he stands over. You try gathering your voice trying to say something, anything.
Then six electric eyes snap up to you from the dark forest. He is the terror of the woods, a feral monster interrupted from its hunt.
Your vision however goes blurry and it gets harder staying awake.
A wreck howl of your name breaks into the air.
Tender clawed hands scoop up from the ground. You’re cradled against him gently and tight. The fabric in your mouth gets ripped away and now the metallic taste of blood fills your mouth fast.
You wheeze out Satoru’s name. There’s so much you want to say. But you’re getting so tired.
“Stay awake!” He snarls desperately sensing your exhaustion.
Nothing feels real. Even staring up at your creature, his six eyes seem to become twelve, like clusters of galaxies carved out in the night sky.
But you’re fading. You know and he knows it.
Breathing hurts and now a cool chill runs across your body from the inside.
Your grandfather's words about moths being angels float into your mind.
You recall how terrifying angels are sometimes described. Some of them are composed of wheels of fire, with many wings.
Yours has many eyes.
You’re grateful Satoru is here with you at the end. You’re grateful this angel found you.
Water droplets plop onto your face and you wonder if it’s raining.
Satoru screams your name with absolute anguish. A darkness crawls over your eyes. Soft and peacefully, you fall into its waiting arms.
-.⊹˚₊⋆˙↟☾↟˙⋆₊˚⊹.-
A soft steady beeping pulls you out from the darkness.
Wearily you open your eyes. But the bright light of wherever you are immediately has you shutting your eyes tight.
A cold hand touches your arm.
The touch jolts you awake. In a panic your eyes immediately snap open and your body shoots up only to find yourself tangled.
Tubes run from out of your arms. One tube even rests under your nose. The beeping noise you faintly recognize is a heart monitor and realization hits that you’re in a hospital.
Then when you turn to the side, a man you don’t know sits beside you.
You have never seen a man as gorgeous as him. Striking cloud white hair, a chiseled jawline, broad shoulders and then…
The brightest blue eyes, clear as a summer sky, stare at you so frantic and hesitant.
The man says your name, his tone faintly pleading.
For some reason his voice sounds vaguely familiar. But that thought is put on hold when the door to your room opens and a nurse walks in.
“Oh thank goodness you’re awake!” She sighs genuinely warm to see you and even seems a bit surprised.
What happened? You were dying. You were sure of it.
“Do you remember anything that happened?” The nurse asks gently as she checks your vitals.
“I…” your voice wavers as the memory clips at you, terrifying and heartbreaking.
“It’s okay if you don’t.” The nurse says comfortingly. “It’s common for accident victims to have a foggy memory. Plus after the one you were in it’s understandable.”
Weakly you question about what happened, how you got here.
With soft eyes the nurse explains it all.
You were the only survivor of the car crash. A part of you vividly remembers Toji Fushiguro and the man with him. A part of you dark and hollow gleams grateful they are no longer here.
You however didn’t walk away unscathed. You have a few broken ribs, a very bad concussion and light internal bleeding being monitored.
“We even found damage near your heart that could’ve been deadly-”
Yet, you were alive.
“And….” The nurse’s eyes twinkle warm and adoring as they flicker to the man behind you.
“This man found you and brought you in. Came into the hospital with you in his arms like some kind of bloody guardian angel.”
You whip your attention back to him as well. The man’s blue eyes stay so intently focused on you.
They remind you so much of the pairs of six eyes that watched you with the same unwavering gaze.
Then the nurse’s words click.
An angel.
No. This couldn’t be…
The idea so wild and unbelievable barrels into you fast. It knocks you breathless that you can’t help but cough out.
Everyone instantly scrambles to grab you something to drink. It’s your mystery man who hands you a cold water first and you guzzle it down with a frantic speed.
“I’ll let you get some rest. Please hit the call button if you need anything.” The nurse squeezes your shoulder and you thank her with a weak cough.
Now in the quiet safety of the hospital room, your attention snaps to the man still intently staring at you with glossy blue lake eyes.
You take the jump. It might be the most far stretched idea and you can blame the concussion but -
You whisper out Satoru’s name.
The white haired man nods fast and a sob escapes you.
It’s him.
Through tear soaked questions you ask him how.
“Remember that legend I once told you? About us being able to bring someone back from the dead?”
His voice is now clear, so distinctly him even in this form you can’t miss it now.
His words are a chilling breeze.
“I died.” You whisper the cold realization.
And he brought you back.
“But you…what happened?” Your eyes so clouded with tears scan his very beautiful and human face.
The Satoru before you is so familiar yet so different. The deep inhale he gives moves his shoulders. You’ve seen it before when his wings moved with the same exhausted exhale. Instead now a weary weight, a very human one, colors his stunning features.
But a sudden eased smile tugs at his lips and the sight is stunning.
“We’re allowed to bring someone back…it’s just at a little cost.” His voice flutters out light and his words get trapped in your throat.
You can’t fight the tears. They come in waves and your shoulders shake as you cry.
“Wait,” Satoru rapidly panics as he slides closer to you. “What’s wrong?!”
He gave up everything. His form, his livelihood, his essence as a creature of the myth, he gave it all for you.
That solid truth rips so much sadness and guilt through you all you can do is angrily cry, frustrated.
“Why are you crying?” He asks concerned and a bit confused.
“Because,” you hiccup. “Because I did this to you.”
You would carry this guilt for the rest of your life.
“What? Don’t like the way I look? I thought I was pretty handsome in this form, yeah?” He lightly teases to perk you up.
You give him a look of disbelief wondering if you should call the nurse to escort this headache away from you.
“Okay okay,” he says, thankfully understanding your heartache.
Gently Satoru’s hand moves to rest against you on top of the itchy hospital blanket. Fondly he runs his hand over your leg. You watch as his eyes follow the path of his hand like he’s trying to solidify your presence beside him. A sadness shimmers within his blue pools.
“If anyone’s to blame…it’s me. I did this to you.”
Quickly, through a teary blubbering mess you reassure Satoru he did nothing wrong. His hand softly squeezes your knee.
“Do you remember when we were watching that weird show and you asked me what I’d wish for? What I wanted more than anything?”
Suddenly Satoru speaks firmer, eyes still not facing you.
“I wished I could be with you. I wanted to live a full life by your side.” His answer is low, but so beautifully clear it’s like dawn breaking over the forest.
Those endless blue eyes turn to you.
Gingerly Satoru raises his hand. He runs his fingers against your face with a tender touch, a delicate brush like that of a moth’s wing.
“Never feel guilty about what happened. I would make this decision over and over again. I don’t regret it and never will.” He says firm, absolute and devoted.
Tears return again but this time for another reason, one so beautifully overwhelming it consumes you.
Satoru gently draws you into his arms to hold you steady against his sturdy chest.
“Can't get rid of me now, little human.” He teases but the faintest edge of emotion cracks his voice.
A laugh escapes you among the tears.
“You’re a little human now too, bug boy.” You joke as the new nickname comes so easily to you.
“There’s nothing little about me, especially in this form.” He deeply purrs.
You’re about to snap at him for being crude until he shrieks.
“And bug boy?! You never even called me that before! If anyone is the bug freak it’s you!”
You laugh, truly laugh, and a warm buoyancy floats within your entire body. He joins in alongside you. His laugh is such a wild and free noise you want to keep it forever.
“This being a human thing,” he suddenly mutters against the top of your head. “Might take me a little while to get used to it.”
“It’s okay,” you whisper back, fully resting against him. “We’re all still trying to figure it out too.”
Satoru’s hand begins rubbing against your back effortlessly, so human and natural.
“You already seem to be doing a good job.” You mumble feeling sleepy again.
He hums amused. “I know. I’m just that good.”
You want to make a snide remark but then Satoru kisses the top of your head. Your heart jumps at feeling his lips.
“I get to do this all the time now.” He whispers slightly in awe, like he spoke a hidden thought out loud.
You can’t help but grin giddy.
Before, you had begun experimenting very enthusiastically about getting to learn how to kiss him in his old form. But you understand.
This felt right. It always did, even when you never wanted to admit it before.
“No more mothman.” Satoru mutters a quiet realization and you clutch his shirt.
“You’ll always be my pest.” You reassure him.
“Hey.” You can hear the mock frown in his voice and you snicker.
You think about Satoru as your cryptid emerging straight from legends.
If he was seen as a harbinger and warning of danger, it strangely has you thinking about love.
For what is love if not a warning? A ‘be careful, don’t run too fast, please be safe, please let me protect you’ warning morphed into a wish and want to keep someone safe. Horror and love sometimes walk hand in hand together after all.
In the arms of your harbinger, you wearily start falling asleep. Satoru senses it too and places another kiss on your head.
When he gently moves to rest you back on the bed your eyes glance to the window. The dark evening night stretches out deep and wide
Against the glass, you notice a fluttering movement.
Soft green delicate long wings catch the light from the hospital room.
Actias luna.
More tears brim in your eyes.
The beautiful lunar moth dances against the window, against the darkness, as if to greet you a warm hello and wish you well.
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underthecitysky · 4 months
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I finally watched the Rupert and the Frog song (We all Stand Together). I still see people (mostly older, mostly on Facebook) dunking on “the frog chorus” and it’s just so clearly an outdated notion for it to be lame for a musician to make content explicitly for children. It’s so common now for artists who’ve become parents to make something their kids will enjoy. Jack White sang a song with the muppets on Sesame Street because he loves his fucking kids. It’s so normal now.
I get where Mary Had a Little Lamb released as single by a rock band went down wrong .. but this is creative, whimsical content explicitly *for* kids. The SONG, in particular, is beautifully composed, imaginative. Lovely! I keep listening to it.
He was 20 years into his career. The Beatles were never Led Zeppelin. It’s hard for me to wrap my head around people still being so weird about this. He such a well rounded musician; it’s all like an exploration in another part of his creativity. There are elements of the classical composing that would come later… and the playful, experimenter who made Robber’s Ball (my beloved), McCartney II, the Fireman records.
But anyway, watching this today reminded me of this moment from Behind the Scenes of BBC Radio where someone presented Paul and Mike with their childhood Rupert book. The title page filled in by their parents reads “This book belongs to Paul McCartney and Michael McCartney”.
It was either Paul or Mike who said they didn’t get many gifts as kids and for Christmas they’d usually get one toy addressed to Paul and Michael from Father Christmas. It makes me really consider why this Rupert project was so important for him that he held onto it for 15 years, always sort of considering ideas for it. There were those RAM era songs that were specifically for the “Rupert project”. It comes up so much in the McCartney legacy book.
Then there’s the element of the frogs and his history with frogs, from growing the tadpoles in his own hand made frog pond in the backyard and checking on them every day until one day they were frogs that hopped away. Then there was the dark, frog killing episode that shocked his brother and he probably felt some shame about.
But here, in this story, there are guard frogs on duty protecting their mostly undisturbed world. Happy and content, it’s the frogs that create this magical chorus.
There’s even a father and son frog pair who’ve come to see this event that only happens every couple of hundred years.
The father is rather Jim McCartney-esque with his pipe and 1940s style hat and manner. There’s a moment where the son inadvertently annoys his father and instantly recoils like he’s about to get hit and momentarily it looks like the father is considering it but gets a hold of himself.
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But later, wrapped up in the music together, the father hugs his son.
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I don’t know what I’m saying exactly but I think there’s some exploration of his childhood here and something about Rupert and the frog chorus that’s particularly meaningful to him.
Maybe he’s reconciling the dark, frog killing episode of childhood with the vegetarian, animal lover he’d become by giving the frogs their own hero’s story. Rupert, Jim, the threat of violence, the presence of love, the frogs he loved but also was violent toward.. and music at the center of everything. Unifying, healing. We all stand together.
For anyone interested, the full BBC clip is here
The full Rupert short is here
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skyscrapergods · 5 months
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I don't know if you've answered this before (and sorry if you have) but how does Sunset leaving/coming back work as a god in equestria? Sunburst not knowing his concept means he can't 'grow' yet Sunset seemed to appear fully/atleast kinda grown even though it seems like she had no idea shed become a goddess, so does the time difference between the two realms mean she can grow exponentially? When she leaves does the concept she represents also disapear/lessen? How do the people think of a goddess who appears for a short time compared all the other princesses? CAN she go back??? I'm sorry but her going back and forth between the two is so interesting to me and I'd love of you could answer
sunset shimmer is honestly more of a shitpost than a real aspect of equestria. you can browse the whole Sunset Shimmer tag here, and here it is in chronological order.
because time works differently, she full ascended in the human realm without ever realizing she was ascending, since they don't have gods over there. Her pony form changed, while her human form did not. Her human powers escalated, but her appearance was the same.
When she steps through the portal into her pony body, she finds that form has changed dramatically. It's pretty overwhelming, so she doesn't visit often.
When she is present, her aspect (rebirth and redemption) grants magic to all who go through it. A selfish horse realizing the true meaning of christmas can suddenly melt snow and restore life to her environment through the power of Becoming a Better Person.
When Sunset is gone, that magic no longer happens. Becoming a better person is good, but it doesn't make you all glowy glowy light beams and healing aura all over the place.
The Goddess of Redemption is celebrated and worshipped, but society is aware that she only returns "when she is needed most"
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sitp-recs · 2 months
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hello!! i love your recs so so much, and i finally have something to ask. what about fics where harry is very good at something beyond just having powerful magic (love that trope tho) like commanding a classroom, solving a complicated puzzle, or idk even whittling. and draco notices and likes it? like competence kink. thank you!!
Oh I love this ask! Such a great concept, and not something I see often (competent Auror Harry is pretty popular though!). I’m sure I’m forgetting a bunch of fics and might add more later, but these are all great:
In Which Harry is Magnetic North and Draco Is An Idiot by bryoneybrynn (T, 13k)
For as long as he can remember, Draco’s been bringing fake dates to his family’s annual Yuletide celebration in order to evade his mother’s matchmaking. This year, Potter’s posing as his pretend boyfriend. But as the party gets underway, it gets unclear who’s playing who, who’s pretending what, who’s not pretending at all, and what the game really is. Confused? Yeah, so is Draco…
Unfinished Business by cupiscent (E, 20k)
Ten years after the War ends, Harry and Draco still haven't got their act together. But maybe it's not too late.
This is Never Happening Again by hpleems (M, 32k)
“Potter,” Malfoy said, shaking his head. “Do I look like I care about your holiday plans? Trust me: this is *never* happening again.”
Meet Me at Midnight by thestarryknight (T, 57k)
Harry was beginning to wonder if he’d ever make anything again when Malfoy stormed through the door of Harry’s furniture shop. Now Harry’s got an impossible Ministry commission to finish, and even less energy than ever to deal with his elusive muse. That is, until he stumbles upon the surreal and beautiful world of a mysterious fae creature…
A Room Up There (And You In It) by thestarryknight (T, 59k)
When Preservationist Draco Malfoy was assigned to work on Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place, he was excited to delve into the gorgeous Black family antiques. His excitement quickly ended when something in the House decided it did not like his presence one bit. Featuring a grumpy antiques lover who most certainly did not sign up for this, encounters with a vengeful apparition, and a healthy application of Christmas spirit.
Among Ancient Pines by Theartfulldodger (M, 74k)
Every day, Draco Malfoy tries. With every fiber of his being he tries. But he doesn’t much think about what he’s trying for. In his final term of Healer training, Draco is unfortunate enough to find himself on a plane, the only means of traveling to a small, magical town in rural Alaska. Years of hard work have culminated in an opportunity to work with an experimental wandmaker to study the intersection of Healing and wand theory.
Azoth by zeitgeistic (E, 88k)
Now that Harry is back at Hogwarts with Hermione for eighth year, he realises that something’s missing from his life, and it either has to do with Ron, his boggart, Snape, or Malfoy. Furthermore, what, exactly, does it mean when one’s life is defined by the desire to simultaneously impress and annoy a portrait? Harry has no idea; he’s too busy trying not to be in love with Malfoy to care.
Little Deaths and How to Avoid Them (or Draco Malfoy's Guide to Stop Dying and Start Living Instead) by nerakrose, dustmouth (T, 96k)
Malfoy is way too interested in coroner reports for somebody who's definitely not looking for ways to die, Harry wants to be friends with him, and Ginny wants to break up with Harry.
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drarryspecificrecs · 1 year
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Most popular fics of 2022
✔ subjectively sorted by Hits || alphabetically listed || as of 2023.07 (4112 works) ✔ 2022 in review : (daily) complete fics  +  (monthly) longest fics  +  list of fests ✔ most popular fics of other years
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amongemeraldclouds · 6 months
Text
better than revenge | chapter six: twelve days of christmas
Summary: Flashback, spending your winter break with Mattheo Riddle.
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Mattheo Riddle x Reader
Warning: smut, 18+ minors dni, fluff. Smut is just short and not detailed given the format of this chapter so lower your expectations haha.
Author's note: If you read this as part two of chapter three and discard the rest, Mattheo will continue to be your boyfriend. No heartbreak.
I wanted to try writing in a different format where I can showcase how your relationship with Mattheo developed over the course of winter break in just one chapter. It was fun writing this!
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I just wish I could forget when it was magic.
Day 1: Brand new day
“Good morning sunshine,” Mattheo says in a sleepy voice. I blink, why is there a boy beside me in bed?  Memories of last night return - of broken bones, healing spells, and snarky comments. “How do you feel?” I ask, noting the absence of yesterday’s cuts and scrapes. “Never been better,” he smiles, rising from bed. “To thank you, my kind savior, I must take you out for tea and biscuits. Or hot chocolate, if you prefer.” I narrow my eyes in distrust, “why are you being nice to me?” “We got off on the wrong foot yesterday,” he explains, “on account of all the bleeding. But today is a new day. Let’s start over?”
Day 2: Stargazing
“Riddle, you’ll be the death of me! You can’t just apparate me everywhere!” “I wanted to show you the view from the roof,” he says, laying down the blanket he brought along.  I look around and gasp at the panoramic view of moonlit castles and bodies of water, flames flickering in the winter air. “It gets even better,” he smiles at my amazement, “look up.” I lay down beside him and marvel at the twinkling stars. He leans in, “if you stare long enough, you could pretend you’re floating among the stars.” I look at him then and at his quiet smile. He has no idea his eyes reflect the same beauty he tries to impress me with. 
Day 3: Chocolate vices
“Do you want one?” He asks, offering me a cigarette. “No thanks, I actually like my lungs.” He snickers, “hey, it helps me relax.” “It’s okay, I’m not judging you.” “So no vices at all?” He asks, “alcohol, drugs, whatever?” “Nope, I don’t like feeling out of control. But does chocolate count? I have a notoriously sweet tooth.”
Day 4: Snow bombs
“Take this!” I say, hurling a ball of snow at Mattheo. It catches him square at his shoulder. “Oh you’re going to regret that,” he says, picking up a pile of snow. I run away but he manages to catch my leg. I duck behind a statue, gathering the next snowball. 
Day 5: A quiet day
“This is all your fault,” he says, sniffling into the tissue. I sneeze in response. “We’ve already taken the potion, we’ll be fine by tomorrow.” I snuggle deeper into the blanket, fighting the fever chill in my bones. Mattheo tucks me in his arms. “Come here, we’ll keep each other warm.”
Day 6: Pillow thoughts
“Why do I keep waking in bed with you?” Mattheo asks. “Then stop sleeping beside me,” I wave him off, sleep clouding my mind. I don’t want to, he thinks.
Day 7: Cold hands, warm hearts
“Merry Christmas!” I beam brightly at Mattheo, placing a neatly wrapped present in his hand. “Um, it’s not yet Christmas?” He states, turning the package over in his hands. “Open it!” I urge. “It’s tradition with my mum to give presents early back when she was around. So you have more time to enjoy them.” “Um, thank you.” He tears the package open and wraps the emerald green scarf around him. “Nice and warm, did you make this?” I nod, “with magic!” I wave my wand around. “Do you like it?” He’s quiet for a few moments. “Yes! It’s just…it’s the first time I’ve received a Christmas present. The dark lord doesn’t really do Christmas, it’s why I’m here at winter break.” he waves his hands awkwardly. “We can make it a yearly tradition?” “I’d like that,” he smiles.
Day 8: For the love of eggs
She swore she would never fall in love. Not after seeing what it did to others. Love is all consuming, it takes everything and leaves you hollow when it’s gone. But sitting across him, eating eggs for breakfast, she didn’t think it would be so bad.
Day 9: Frigid hazards
He watched her skate across the pond, hair flying in the wind. She once said he would be the death of her. He thinks it’s the opposite.
Day 10: A flower blooms in winter
“Can I kiss you?” I ask Mattheo. His face lights up. “It would be my pleasure.” 
Day 11: Maybe it’s worth the risk
“Will you be my girlfriend?” “I thought you’d never ask.”
Day 12: Never have I ever before
“Mattheo, please,” I beg. “Please what, baby? Use your words,” he commands. “I need to feel you.” I gasp. “Breathe, angel. It’s okay, you can take it.” I nod, gripping the sheets and feel myself adjust to him. “Good girl, you’re doing so well.” He laces his fingers through mine and kisses my lips, moving into me again. “We’ll start slow, we’ve got all night.”
Christmas Day: On thin ice
“Matty, I’m scared.” “What’s wrong, love?” His brow furrows. “I want this, I want you. But so many things can go wrong,” I say, waving my hands around. “Don’t worry,” he says, brushing my hair from my face. “I won’t hurt you.” “Promise?” “Promise.”
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A/N: We're just three chapters away from the canon ending, then there will be a bonus alt ending. Stay tuned!
Taglist: @hoeforvinniehackerrr @i-think-you-are-gr8 @thecraziestcrayon @adreamingpendulum @themarauderswife7 @midsoulz @ultramarinetovelvet @val-writes @lafrone @daisiesformylove @mildly-delulu @allebasi05 @enha-stan @skb4000 @nat1221 @s0urw00lf
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December Christmas Monster Stories
Dec 20.) Octomer x Reader
Warnings: attempted murder, reader almost dying, unable to breath,tentacles, no boundaries from monster, touching (sfw) without asking, if I missed any please tell me.
Minors don't interact.
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Cold
Everything felt cold as your broken body laid on the jagged rocks. 
Faint words were spoken on the cliff you had been pushed of off but the winds were too strong for your ears to hear them. 
You wondered why they did it, you knew the village didn't like you but you didn't think they disliked you enough to commit murder. 
Everything was numb as your vision blurred but you could feel the strange sensation of suckers wriggling up your broken legs. It must have been an octopus using you as leverage to climb up the rocks. At least in your dying moments you could help out at least one living creature before you go. Slipping away you didn't hear the screams from above or feel yourself be lifted up gently as if you were made from fragile clay. 
Slowly you opened your eyes as a groan left your lips. Everything hurt so badly and you could hardly move. It took some time for your eyes to adjust but when they finally did you let out a gasp seeing yourself surrounded by flowers you knew for certain didn't grow around your icey village. Trying to sit up a jolt of pain ran through your body. Your eyes widening, the pain was so intense you couldn't breath or perhaps you were in pain because you couldn't breath. Even laying back in the same position as before didn't bring your breathing back. A feeling of dread filled you as you gasped for air like a fish out of water. 
As quick as lightning tentacles were wrapped around you rubbing your chest in a strange way. It almost mimicked breathing? Whom ever the tentacles belonged to knew what they were doing as soon air was flowing back into your lungs, all be it with difficulty but you could breath at the least. The tentacles continued this movement as you flowed them wanting to know just who had been helping you.
He was large with bumpy looking copper skin. His eyes yellow and goat like with long rectangle pupil's. There were a lot more tentacles to him than just the onces assisting you to breath. You wanted to scream, you'd never seen something like him before but you couldn't. Maybe it was because he had saved you, maybe it was because you could see no hate in his eyes only worry and concern, or simply it was beacuae you didn't have enough air in your lungs to do so. Opening your mouth you went to speak but found yourself unable. Puzzled you tried again but only letting out a squeak that deeply pained your throat. 
He leaned forward shaking his head at you. “Your not healed enough.” His voice had a strange clicking to it. “It will come back once your stronger.” You weren't sure how you were still alive after a fall like that but if he was able to get you breathing by giving you what seemed to be a massage it was safe to say he probably knew lots about healing or perhaps he had magic? 
The healing process was long and painful but not as much as it would have been without him. You had to learn quickly that personal space wasn't somthing he comprehend. For the sake of getting better you put up with his constant touching of your body. His touches often grew more curious after his check ups on you. Wandering tentacles would tap your legs, the suction cups on the underside of them making little popping sounds as they suctioned and unauctioned from your soft flesh. He didn't have legs of his own so he oftern touched yours studding them. Your toes were very intresting to him. It wasn't hard for him to learn about your reaction to being tickled. You wouldn't stop squirming when he was touching the bottom of your feets. He had scolded you for movimg so much before you were ready for that. By that point you were healed enough and could explain to him what his actions had caused. This only interested him more but he touched more carefuly now trying to avoid the tickle spots… for now. 
You learned more about durning this time. While he studied you, you studied him. Looking past his frighteningly odd appearance he was kind and gentle. Despite his large size he was always careful to not crush the flowers around the little caves island. The place was strange, to you there was no exit but the giant hole in the roof of the cave as large as the island itself. There must have been some sort of secret tunel under the water as Zeke as you called him would go under and come back hours later with tentacles full of things. Most of the time it was things for you, such as fruits or clothes that were in no way your size, it was different styles every time. You were starting to wonder if he was stealing all these items.
When he would bring something for himself it was always something shiny or made an interesting sound. His favorites to bring back were little whistles and wind chimes. He would cooe every time the wind blew on the chimes making them let out their sounds. When he walked past them he always dragged a tentacle against them to make the sound himself. 
One day when after your lungs had properly healed and you could talk again Zeke wiggled his way over to you and held out a whistle with expexting eyes. “You want me to use it?” You asked, he nodded his head vigorously in response. “I see people use them. I don't know how to.” He explained to you as he settled down next to you. His tentacles of course reached out prodding against your flesh touching and holding it as he watched with his alien eyes. “They don't really sound that pretty. Flutes sound much better but alright.” It was hard to say no when he looked like a begging puppy. Bringing the cold metal to your lips then blew. 
His reaction to it to say the least was unsettling. His whole body shivered as if he was in an earthquake and he let out a high pitched shrill. Immediately you pulled the whistle back and looked at him with a shocked look only to get a confused one back. “Why stop?” Zeke questioned poking your cheek with a tentacle. “But you were… I thought…?” You stammered confused, the realization came slowly. “Were you trying to mimic the sound?” You asked more calmly. Zeke nodded his head as if it was obvious. Bringing the whistle back to your lips you blew again, more certain about it this time, much more loudly. Zeke loved it and shrilled again doing his attempt to make the sound. It was nothing like a whistle but at the same time some how seemed so fitting for a whistle. 
Bringing the whistle away from your lips once more Zeke watched with a disappointed look apon his face. He never hid his emotions, not that he ever tried. Moving your lips into a pursed O shape you blew letting out a whistle. Immediately Zeke was trilling with delight. Knowing no boundaries like always he touched your face poking your lips as he stared at them in wonder. “You can make that nose?” He questioned touching and moving your lips. “Yeah.” It was muffled, it's hard to talk with someone playing with your lips. “Humans can make a lot of different sounds.” You explained grabbing his hands pulling them away from your face. Looking at him you clicked your tongue against the roof of your mouth. Zeke acted as if it was the best thing he had ever heard. He was cooing and letting out clicks of his own. Smiling you started to whistle a tune this time showing off. Zeke was of course very delighted by this listening to every sound you made. 
You kept whistling every tune you could think of for who knows how long. Once your throat and mouth started to hurt you stopped. Zeke seemed content enough with the amount of whistling you had done for him. “Such pretty sounds.” He cooed leaning in closer. “Such pretty sounds from such a pretty mate.” Your eyes widened hearing his words. Had you misheard him? Surely his term of mate wasn't what you had been thinking of. “You will be my mate.” Zeke said nuzzling his face against your neck. He did mean that kind of mate…
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Destiel Trope Collection 2024 | Day 15: Witch Magic or Curses
The Language of Wings | @tami-ryver Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 1,070 Main Tags/Warnings: Cursed Castiel (Supernatural), Wingfic, Angel Wings, Seraph Castiel (Supernatural), Dean Winchester Can See Castiel's Wings, Worried Dean Winchester, Dean Winchester is Bad at Feelings, Dean Winchester is Loved, First Kiss, Castiel/Dean Winchester First Kiss, Fluff, Angst, Fluff and Angst, Angel Courtship (Supernatural) Summary: Dean gasps. He can't see anything and there is something in the room with him and Cas. Something different. His hand aches to hold a knife, a gun, something to defend himself.
True Love Wins | @bookwithwings Rating: General Word Count: 1,179 Main Tags/Warnings: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Secret Relationship, Established Castiel/Dean Winchester, is it established when it's secret? idk, Cursed Dean Winchester, Spells & Enchantments, fairytale trope, canonverse Summary: After coming back from a witch hunt something is seriously wrong with Dean. Cas and Sam consult Rowena for help. She has an idea what might help.
La Verdad | @thisisapaige Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 1,432 Main Tags/Warnings: Witch Curses,Truth Spells, Fluff, Emotional Hurt/Comfort Summary: Castiel gets hit by a witch's spell on a hunt— a curse that compels him to speak the truth. To keep his deepest secret unsaid, all he has to do is remain silent and avoid Dean. That should be easy, right?
curse and birds | @dcforts Rating: General Word Count: 1,600 Main Tags/Warnings: Fluff, Comedy, Love Confessions, Accidental Curse, True Love, Men of Letters Bunker, Inspired by A Christmas Carol, Christmas fic Summary: Cas shows up on the third day with the french hens and the turtle doves and the partridge in tow.
Of Curses and Bee-Colored Mittens | @Destielshipper4Cas Rating: General Word Count: 3,232 Main Tags/Warnings: Witch Castiel, Strangers to Lovers, Getting Together, Happy Ending, Omega Castiel, Alpha Dean, First Kiss, Alternate Universe – Magic, Familiar Dean Summary: After Castiel gets cursed by an evil witch, all his once-healing touch does is hurt people. He has learned to live with the fact that he can never touch anyone ever again. But a tenacious alpha doesn’t get the memo that being around him is dangerous.
Conjured | @Destielshipper4Cas Rating: General Word Count: 4,260 Main Tags/Warnings: Witch Castiel, Human Dean, Strangers to Lovers, Pining, Getting Together, Happy Ending, Omega Castiel, Alpha Dean, Alternate Universe - Magic Summary: Lonely and unable to fall asleep, witch Castiel conjures an alpha to cuddle with. Night after night from midnight until one a.m. Falling in love with his own spell is a bad idea on many levels. If only Dean didn’t seem so real…
With Magic All Around | @Destielshipper4Cas Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 4,500 Main Tags/Warnings: King Dean Winchester, Witch Cas, Commoner Cas, Mpreg, Mutual Pining, Sharing a Bed, Omega Castiel, Alpha Dean, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Medieval, First Kiss, Happy Ending Summary: Castiel is King Dean’s court witch. During an inventory of all magical items in the castle, he touches an enchanted golden ball and is now carrying the Winchester heir.
imagine being loved by me | @abi-cosmos Rating: Explicit Word Count: 9,659 Main Tags/Warnings: Porn with feelings, Top Castiel/Bottom Dean Winchester, Awkward first times, Motels, Romantic angst, Canon divergence: season 5, Sexually Inexperienced Castiel, unclear feelings, Castiel gets cursed by a witch Summary: When Castiel gets cursed by a hunger spell, novelty dick-shaped waffles lead to everything that Dean Winchester wants. (Set around season five.)
Virginia is for Lovers | inkdr0p (AO3) Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 10,010 Main Tags/Warnings: Established Castiel/Dean Winchester, Dean Winchester, Castiel (Supernatural), Sam Winchester, Original Male Character(s), Case Fic, Witches, Dean Winchester Hates Witches, Angel Castiel (Supernatural), Nearly Human Castiel (Supernatural), Dean Winchester Prays to Castiel, Prayer, Cursed Dean Winchester, Insomnia, Late Night Conversations, Diners, Dean Winchester and Food, Castiel Does Not Care About Gender Norms (Supernatural), Witch Sam Winchester, but not totally; he's just not afraid to admit that hunters do magic too, Castiel and Dean Winchester Have a Profound Bond, Castiel Drives the Impala (Supernatural), Castiel Wears Dean Winchester's Clothes, Castiel Gets New Clothes (Supernatural), Hunt Gone Wrong, Hurt Dean Winchester, Fluff, Romantic Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Dean Winchester Being Dean Winchester, Castiel Being Castiel (Supernatural), Idiots in Love Summary: “Oh.” Castiel reaches down and plucks something long and thick and black from the folds of Dean’s shirt, then holds his open palm up to his face, fascinated. “Cas,” Slowly, gingerly, Dean pushes himself up into a seated position, thrilled to be able to finally move but aware of how stiff he is from having lain on the cold ground all night. From his new position he can see something coiling around one of Cas’ fingers. “Forget the centipede, Cas.” “It’s a millipede.” “What?” “It’s a millipede. Centipedes have a single pair of legs per body segment, while millipedes have two." On one hand it’s very Cas of him to get hung up on a bug in the middle of a hunt, but on the other with two very noticeable corpses right nearby and the sun starting its rise in the east, they don't have the time or luxury to let this play out. ---------------- In which Dean accidentally gets himself cursed while on vacation, Cas has to help him work the case while accepting that he's not quite the angel he used to be, and Sam has to explain very basic magic to a guy who really should already know this stuff.
desire (I want to turn into you) | @alulangel Rating: Explicit Word Count: 10,192 Main Tags/Warnings: Cursed Castiel, Love Potion/Spell, Cosmic Horniness, opposite of cosmic horror, PWP, blasphemy, Castiel’s True Form, blow job, come sharing, anal sex, top!cas/bottom!dean, stabbing to climax, set in some indeterminate time during canon don’t worry about it Summary: When Cas and the Winchesters go after a witch, they wind up in the crosshairs of a misfired spell. Luckily it hits Cas, and surely a love spell will have no effect on an angel. But Castiel has questions. Castiel has doubts. For what might be the first time, Castiel feels... And what he feels is his fascination with Dean Winchester turn into a cosmic, unending, incomprehensible HUNGER.
A Prince's Guide To Wooing A Would-Be Wife (Without The Requisite Curse, Dragon, Kidnapping, Riddles Three, Or Traditional Peril Of Any Sort) | @an-android-in-a-tutu Rating: Mature Word Count: 11,708 Main Tags/Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply, Castiel/Dean Winchester, Castiel (Supernatural), Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Mary Winchester, John Winchester, Naomi (Supernatural), Alternate Universe - Fairy Tale, Princes & Princesses, Arranged Marriage, Curses, Enemies to Lovers, Trans Castiel (Supernatural), Gay Dean Winchester, Hair Kink, Body Hair, Feminization Summary: Dean is a Good Prince, he does what Good Princes do: Rescue Damsels and slay Dragons. As well as solve riddles, preform impossible tasks with the help of animal companions, break curses, collect golden apples, outwit ogres and trolls, and complete any number of oddball tasks (usually in sets of three.) The only thing he can't seem to accomplish is the happily ever after: at the end of the day, of all the Princesses (or Ladies, or Second Cousins twice removed of a Duke, or simple farm girls with oddly specific birth marks) he rescues, none of them ever end up riding home with him on the back of his noble steed to live with him in happily wedded bliss. It was probably only a matter of time before his parents took the issue out of his hands. It's a Fool who plays their hand against Fate, but Fate doesn't seem to be dealing to Dean, and there's the line of succession to consider. Dean hardly minds, he's a dutiful son after all, and he's used to true love passing him by. As long as he and his wife-to-be treat each other with kindness, he's sure they can figure out how to get along. If only Princess Castiel would give him the time of day, he might be able to convince her of that too.
The Hunter's Oath | @thefandomsinhalor Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 19,895 Main Tags/Warnings: Fantasy AU, Celestial Castiel, Slow Build, Cabin Fic, Isolation, Castiel and Dean Have a Profound Bond, Angst Summary: Tasked with the important tradition of fulfilling an Oath to a celestial being, Dean is feeling the weight of loneliness more and more, after years of isolation on the mountain. Until one night, he is gifted a surprise: the god himself shows up with the desire to explore their bond for a time. Dean goes along with it, having no choice, and prays that nobody notices he might have failed to keep the mountain undisturbed. When he learns more about his new companion and the truth behind the legend, however, Dean finds himself picturing a different kind of life. One that isn’t as solitary. And perhaps, even more peaceful than anticipated.
It's all very complex | @artichokegarden Rating: Explicit Word Count: 20,065 Main Tags/Warnings: First Time, Porn Watching, Masturbation, Castiel Has a Sexual Awakening, Sex Pollen, Fuck Or Die, Dubious Consent, Hand Feeding, Spanking, Roleplaying, The Pizza Man, Dean Winchester Wears a Cowboy Hat, Doctor Kink, Sex Toys, Angelic Possession, Angelic Grace Sex, Sex in/on the Impala, Porn with Feelings, Angst with a Happy Ending, Humor Summary: “You don’t have to turn it off,” said Cas. “Humans get unnecessarily embarrassed about sex.” “Yeah well. Blame the bible. Angels have been known to get pretty judgy about it all.” Dean twirled the remote control distractedly. A thought seemed to strike him. He looked at Cas curiously. “Have you ever – I mean after April and all – did you ever … go on a journey of self discovery?” Cas stared at him. “Tamed the snake? Spanked the monkey? Made the beast with one back?” Cas looked at him. Dean made a small furtive gesture with his hand. Realization dawned. “No, Dean. That’s not something I ever felt the need to do.” “Right. Yeah." Dean turned away. "Well, angels are missing out.” After walking in on Dean's private time, Cas decides to do a little research and experimentation of his own and gets magically trapped in a book about sexual fantasies. And if that means Dean has to go in after him, well what are buddies for, right?
The Silence of Souls | @thefandomsinhalor Rating: Mature Word Count: 33,685 Main Tags/Warnings: Canon Divergent, Season 13, Boy King of Hell Sam Winchester, Godstiel, Dean Bears the Mark of Cain, Team Free Will 2.0, Trauma, Angst, Mentioned Past AU Rowena/Sam Summary: After receiving an unexpected phone call from Patrick, a witch who Sam and Dean encountered years ago, Team Free Will 2.0 leave Dodge City behind and rush to meet him in Wichita. The reason: He claims to know a way that could help Mary cross back to their universe. His demands are reasonable and the spell is simple, but Patrick warns them that the spell is not without risks. After all, the universe always has a way of balancing itself out. Not thrilled at the idea of potentially releasing something bad into the world, they nevertheless think that Mary’s safety is worth the risk. So, the original Team Free Will cast the spell, with Jack by their side, ready to assist them against any surging danger. Unfortunately, what is unleashed upon them is far more troubling than anything they had anticipated. It’s the spell-casters’ darkest versions of themselves. Namely, Godstiel, the Boy King of Hell and Deanmon, bearer of the mark of Cain. And all three of them are determined to make themselves very comfortable in their new home.
Strawberry Moon | @casblackfeathers Rating: Explicit Word Count: 115,403 Main Tags/Warnings: bottom!dean, bottom!castiel, reunion, slow burn, friends to lovers, fluff, angst with a happy ending, familiar!dean, witch!castiel, hurt!dean, hurt!castiel, protective!dean, protective!castiel, jealous!castiel, john winchester being an asshole, soft!dean, soft!castiel, neighbors Summary: As a child, Castiel used to fall asleep with his mother telling him bedtime stories of the prophecy she had foreseen for him — how the Strawberry Moon would one day reveal the familiar he was destined to be with. However, it’s been twelve years since the heart-wrenching day Castiel last saw the one he hoped was meant for him, and at twenty-eight, with his magic quickly dwindling, he knows better than to keep believing in such foolish dreams. Castiel's resolve falters with the return of his long-ago teenage crush, Dean. The familiar’s evergreen eyes and rainbow aura are still as captivating, but his past is shrouded in mystery, one that could hold the answer to what drove them apart all those years ago. Maybe the peculiar tabby cat who seems to have taken a liking to Castiel is what it takes to make Castiel believe in the moon with shades of pink again.
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nancy-reads · 9 months
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am I the one you think about?
part 2!!
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pairing: fred weasley x reader
summary: having your heart broken before love really blossomed hurts more than it should. but fred's flirty banter never quits. maybe your love story isn't quite over?
warnings: slightly angsty but with a happy ending
authors note: i am so sorry for how long this took! school got crazy and college applications are a nightmare. however, i hope you all had a good holiday season and enjoy this late christmas gift!
part one
CROSS-POSTED TO AO3
You refused to cry as you stomped back to your shop. Fred could do whatever he wanted. It wasn’t like the two of you were together or anything. He just flirted with you like crazy and you developed a massive crush on him. 
And of course, the girl Fred was kissing was gorgeous. You couldn’t get her face out of your mind. Clear, gorgeous dark skin and eyes, black hair in a braided ponytail that looked effortless, and a tall figure that looked like she was meant to be a model for Quidditch robes. 
You didn’t know how you even thought you could pull someone like him. Fred was gorgeous and strong and funny, and you were just…well, you. Not anything special. 
You swore as you stepped into a massive puddle near your shop. Tears were beginning to prick your eyes, but you blinked them away. You would not cry over a man you knew not even twenty-four hours. 
And it would be better if it didn’t work out, you thought. You were going to be very busy with your shop once it opened, and you wouldn’t have time for any sort of relationship. It would be an absolute logistical nightmare, and you had to focus on your business. 
You nodded to yourself as you stepped inside your shop, decorated with candles, fairy lights, and plants. This was where you belonged. This was the important thing, not some stupid boy you met once. 
*
MAGICAL HERBS AND HEALING GRAND OPENING!!!
You smiled to yourself as you lowered your wand and took in the exterior of your shop. Everything looked perfect. The plants were in place, the widow displays were shining, and best of all, the banner hung front and center, inviting anyone and everyone to come in. 
People were beginning to trickle into Diagon Alley for some early morning shopping, so you rushed inside your shop and flicked the sign from open to closed. You bounced on your heels as you did some final checks to make sure that everything was in place.
You had already checked about seven times, but there wasn’t any harm in one more, was there? 
Soon enough, you didn’t have time to check anything, too busy ringing up the barrage of customers who entered your store. The line was spread throughout the shop, and you couldn’t stop smiling as your products and potions flew off the shelves. 
Your dreams were coming true. Everything was running smoothly, the customers were marveling at the aesthetics of your shop, and you’d gotten many promises to come back.
But the day couldn’t stay perfect forever, and your eyes widened as a familiar face entered the shop. You couldn’t help but notice Fred’s handsome face and body, but you cursed yourself. You would not be thirsting for a taken man.
Attempting to look as busy as possible, you straightened the boxes behind you and fussed with the register. You could feel his stare on your back, and it took every ounce of your will not to turn.
He is a taken man. He has a girlfriend. 
And he is still staring at you.
After a generous amount of time, Fred cleared his throat. You sighed, closing your eyes for a moment, and finally began to turn around. As slowly as humanly possible. 
“That excited to see me, huh?”
You ignored him.
“And what are you looking for today sir?”
His eyes widened. “Sir? You haven’t forgotten my name already, have you?”
Taken man. Taken man. Taken man.
This was going to be an exercise in self-control.
“Just-” you paused. “Come on, Fred-”
“I knew you remembered-”
“This isn’t a great time-”
“Well then tell me when is,” Fred said. “I’d be glad to arrange a date.”
Why did he have to say these things?
“Are you really going to make me do this now?” you asked, anger coloring your tone. “It's opening day, and I’d really rather you not ruin it.”
“Ruin it?” he asked, dumbfounded. “What do you mean?”
“You know what? Fine,” you snapped. “Come here after closing. We can talk then. I have customers to help, and I’m sure you do too.”
Fred’s eyebrows were scrunched together, and his mouth pulled into a frown. “I-” he paused when he looked at your face, and a defeated expression appeared on his face. “Okay.”
You stared at him as he left, and a part of you wondered if you’d hallucinated the whole thing. He seemed so earnest, like he actually wanted to talk to you. Like you were important, not some other girl he wanted to have on the side. 
But you couldn’t think like that. He probably had some other ulterior motive.
You turned to the next customer in line. “Hi, how can I help you today?”
*
You had to give him credit, Fred was at your shop door at six pm sharp. You tried to ignore him for a while, but he eventually caught your eye as you wiped down the counters.
He gave you a big smile as you opened the door, and part of you wanted to melt. His smile was so bright and full of ardent hope. His freckles made him look younger, and it really added to the sweetness of his face. 
“So,” Fred began after a moment. “Why didn’t you come see the shop? It’s been weeks.”
You sighed. “Look, Fred. I just don’t think us talking like this is appropriate.”
He scrunched his brows. “Appropriate? Why not?” his eyes widened. “I haven’t been impolite, have I? I swear I’ve never meant to say anything weird, I just like to have a laugh-”
“No! Nothing like that,” you said. “I’m not interested in the kind of relationship you want.” There you said it. You would not be someone’s side piece or a good fuck. You wanted something real.
You should have known he was too good to be true as soon as you hit him with those boxes. 
“Oh,” Fred said, his face falling. “I’m so sorry that I assumed-” he paused, “I mean, yeah, sorry, you’re really busy so…yeah.” He forced a smile and stepped back. “I guess I’ll see you around?”
You nodded. “Yeah. I’ll see you.”
You ignored the disappointment in your chest as the bells rang, signifying Fred had left the shop.
*
The shop was still packed a few days later. You supposed word had spread about your low prices and fast wait times because potions were flying off the shelves. You’d begun to think about hiring someone else to help check people out while you brewed in the back. 
Plus, people seemed to like the idea of a small A&E in the back, and you’d definitely need more help with that. 
You’d just finished restocking some salves when he walked in. His brown eyes sparkled when they met yours, and that easy, earnest smile was back on his face. There was no hesitation or the anxiety you’d seen the other day. He was acting like nothing had happened. 
You hesitatingly smiled when he reached the counter, but your jaw dropped when you noticed the bruise that had formed around his eye. 
“Holy shit, Fred!” without thinking, you reached to touch his black eye. “What happened?”
He scoffed. “This is nothing. We just had a slight malfunction with one of our new products.”
“This doesn’t look very slight.”
“I’m fine. But,” he smirked. “I do appreciate your concern.”
“It’s professional concern,” you muttered as you searched for the anti-bruise cream behind the counter. “You’re not special.”
Fred’s jaw dropped dramatically. “You hurt me, dear lady.”
You snorted. “I think you can take it.”
Fred’s hand brushed yours as you handed him the cream and the anti-swelling potion. Your cheeks flushed, and he gave you a sweet smile as he left the shop. 
You could feel yourself smiling throughout the rest of the day, and you cursed yourself every time.
 He isn’t actually interested. He’s just a flirt. 
*
The next time Fred came in was a week later, and this time he had a cut branching up his arm. Thankfully, it was nearly closing time and most of your customers had trickled out by then. 
“What is this?” you fretted, grabbing his arm. “You hurt yourself again?”
“It was just a small incident with one of the pygmy puffs,” he chuckled. “They don’t like being told what to do.”
“Probably because they’re your orders,” you joked. “They can probably sense the stupidity from a mile away.”
“Hey!” he mock-yelled. “They don’t listen to George either.”
“My point still stands,” you said, tapping the cut with your wand. You held back a shiver as your thumb brushed his strong bicep. Was it just you, or did he have goosebumps?
“You don’t even know George.”
“He’s your brother, so if he’s anything like you, I’d be worried about his intelligence.”
Fred pouted. “They don’t listen to Angelina either, and she’s got a good head on her shoulders, so I think they just don’t listen to anyone.”
You paused your cleaning of his cut for a moment and tried to make your face as neutral as possible. “Who’s Angelina?” Could she be the girl he was kissing?
“Oh she’s George’s girlfriend,” he said, oblivious. You breathed a silent sigh of relief. “I don’t know how they’re still together, honestly she could do so much better, but she likes him, I suppose.”
You hummed, finally letting go of his arm to grab a potion. The cut was just barely a scratch now, but you wanted to make sure it didn’t get infected.
“Make sure you drink this, Fred, tonight and tomorrow morning. It’ll wash out any weird pygmy puff or whatever you call it infection from your body.”
“Yes ma’am!” he saluted and headed for the door. You couldn’t help but watch him make his way back from his shop, a spring in his step and a smile on his gorgeous face.
*
It kept happening. Fred came in with food poisoning, many more bruises, and even boils at one point. They were apparently from his inventions and experiments, but you were starting to get worried. Who gets injured this much?
The last straw was when he walked in with an injured leg. Your A&E hadn’t been opened yet, but you had hired a retired healer to run the counter so you could run in and out on occasion.
You were in the back, mixing a new potion when there was a loud commotion at the entrance. You had a sneaking suspicion of who it was but continued to stir the liquid until Martha poked her head into your office. 
“It’s your boy,” she said. “And I think you’ll want to see this.”
That got you out of your seat immediately. Most of the time Fred’s injuries honestly seemed more like excuses to come see you, for what reason you didn’t know, but Martha’s tone made it seem much more serious.
“What’s wro-” fear shot through you as you saw the pain on Fred’s face, and the fact that he was leaning on….a direct copy of himself?
You weren’t sure whether to be more worried or confused. Had Fred somehow invented a cloning machine? 
As you looked closer, you realized that they weren’t completely alike. The person next to Fred’s face was more rounded, and his nose was slightly bigger. His face was a bit uneven, and there was something off with his ear, but you couldn’t tell from far away. 
Suddenly, it all clicked. 
“You must be George!” you exclaimed. “Fred, you never told me that you had an identical twin!”
“Pleased to finally meet you,” George said, turning to Fred. “I can’t believe you never mentioned we were twins!” He glanced at you, mischief in his eyes. “It’s like you don’t care about me or something.”
“Shut up, George,” Fred said, turning your attention back to him. “I’m sorry to bother you again, darling-” your heart jumped, “-but I’m in quite a bit of pain and I was wondering if you could fix me up again?”
He is just a flirt. He is just a flirt. He is just a flirt. 
“Yes, of course,” you scooped Fred’s other arm over your neck and helped George carry him into the patient room. “Martha! Can you hold down the fort for a bit?”
You didn’t wait to hear her affirmative before slowly and carefully lowering Fred down onto the patient bed. His face was contorted in pain, and you couldn’t help yourself from squeezing his shoulder in support once he was safely in bed. 
“Drink this,” you said as you passed him a cup full of silver liquid. “It’ll make the pain go away for a bit.” Fred gulped it down, and a goofy smile filled his face when he finished. 
“You’re so pretty,” he said lazily.
You could feel heat creeping up your face, but you ignored him.
“Sleep well.”
You cleared your throat and turned to George. 
“Judging from the dirt and the Quidditch robes, I assume he fell off his broom?”
George nodded. “Yeah. He got distracted and a Bludger came flying toward him and…” he made a violent gesture, “Crash!”
You nodded. “Did he fall unconscious at any point, or hit his head?”
“He was a bit confused at first,” George said, hesitating. “He kept asking to come here though. My girlfriend kept trying to convince him to go to St. Mungos, but he wasn’t having it.” George smiled. “Are you two together? Because he kept asking specifically for you.”
Call the fire department, because your face was scorching. “I-” you stammered. “I thought he had a girlfriend or something?”
George snorted. “Fred? A girlfriend? He hasn’t dated anyone in a long time. I was honestly starting to wonder if he was gay and just afraid to tell me or something.”
“Really?” Your mind was spinning. Had you actually just hallucinated seeing Fred kiss someone outside of Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes? “I thought saw him kiss a girl outside your shop a few months ago.” You sighed for a moment. “They looked really happy, so I didn’t want to intervene or anything.”
“That would be news to me,” he paused for a moment, lost in thought. “Wait, what did she look like?”
There was an insistent knock on the door. 
“Sorry, we’re busy right now!” you called. “Ask the counter if you need anything.”
The door burst open, and your jaw dropped when the women came crashing in. She was much less put together than the last time you’d seen her, her hair flying everywhere and her cheeks flushed. But she had the same dark skin and hair, and the same commanding appearance that made you see why Fred liked her. 
“I’m sorry,” you said politely. “But I’m currently busy with a patient. Please wait outside or go to St. Mungos if you-”
“She's fine,” George interrupted. “This is Angelina, my girlfriend.”
Suddenly, it all clicked into place. It wasn’t Fred you’d seen kissing a girl, it was George. Who was kissing his girlfriend. Like a normal person. 
You were completely and utterly stupid. 
“Angelina, this is that girl that Fred won’t shut up about.”
“Oh excellent!” She strolled over to you and stared at you seriously. “Please go out with him. Just to put him out of his misery. All I hear about anymore is him whining that some beautiful girl from the shops won’t date him and I need it to stop,” Her eyes were wide and solemn. “Please.”
George snorted. “Way to expose Freddie there.”
Angelina grinned back at him. “I think he needs it.”
“Well,” you clasped your hands, ignoring the redness in your cheeks. “I’m just going to do a quick skull exam just in case he hit his head, and then I’ll set his leg and let him rest.”
You couldn’t believe you’d messed it up this bad. Of course, you’d just seen Fred’s identical twin kissing his girlfriend. How hadn’t you thought of it before?
You quickly began your work, murmuring spells to yourself as you ensured everything was fine. You winced at the loud crack that sounded when Fred’s leg was set, but a final “Episkey,” finally healed the break.
You turned to face George and Angelina, who were watching with rapt attention. “Fred needs to sleep for an hour or two, just to make sure he doesn’t feel all the pain right away. I’d prefer to keep him here, just to make sure he stays asleep and pain-free, and I’ll also be able to check him over again once he wakes,” you said. “But I’ll do whatever you guys want.”
Angelina elbowed George before he could speak. “I think Fred will be perfectly content with staying here for a few hours.”
“Yup,” George said. “He’ll be fine.”
*
You’d been running in to check on Fred for what probably was close to every 5 minutes for the past hour and a half. Martha had given you multiple suspicious nods and knowing looks every time you stepped out of the back room, and she winked at you as she left at the end of her shift.
The store was closed and empty after another long and busy day, and the urge to go check on Fred was already pulling at you. 
Just in case.
It seemed your intuition had been correct, as he began to stir the moment you opened the door. His nose twitched adorably, and there was a small smile on his face as his eyes opened, the sleep still present in his stare.
Without thinking, you stroked his hair, but Fred didn’t seem to mind. He actually leaned into your touch, the smile on his face growing. It was all so domestic, and you couldn’t stop your own smile from spreading across your face. 
“Your smile is so pretty,” Fred mumbled. “You should do that more.”
Warmth filled your face. “I like yours too,” you sat on the edge of his bed. “Does anything still hurt?”
“Not when I’m looking at someone as beautiful as you.”
“You are shameless!” you giggled, smacking him on the side.
“Are you slapping a patient?” Fred teased. “I’m gonna have to report you to the Ministry.”
“You’re making me wonder if you have brain damage that I missed somewhere.” You said as you helped Fred sit up on the side of the bed. “Let me check again.”
Fred, much to your surprise, passed all of his exams with flying colors.
“First time that’s happened,” he joked. 
“I guess that means you’re sane enough for me to do this.”
You leaned in and brought your lips against his. Fred gasped into your mouth and responded eagerly, his hand rising to cup your face and bring you closer. His mouth was soft and gentle, and you almost wanted to cry with how sweet he was. One of your arms wrapped around his neck, while your other hand grabbed his bicep.
Fred leaned back for a moment, chuckling. “I guess you’re finally free to touch my arms now.”
“What do you mean?” 
“Don’t pretend that you haven’t been thirsting over my arms the entire time we’ve known each other.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
He laughed again as he leaned back in, taking control of the kiss this time. He was more passionate now, and you let out a gasp as his tongue brushed against yours. Your heart was beating faster than it ever had before, and you had to break the kiss because you couldn’t stop smiling.
After you leaned back, Fred just stared at you for a moment, a soft smile on his face. Sure, he was already handsome, but that smile made him look ten times better, and even younger than before. His freckles made his smile boyish, and there was childlike joy in his face as he looked at you. 
“What made you change your mind?” Fred asked after a moment, his brows furrowing. “I thought you didn’t want a relationship.”
“So here’s the thing,” you laughed nervously. “I thought you didn’t want a relationship.”
Fred’s eyes widened. “I think you’re the one who needs to get your brain checked, love. Because I think I was being pretty obvious.”
“Hey! You’re supposed to be nice to me now.” You poked his chest. “But remember when I told you I’d come over to see your shop the day after we met?”
“Vividly.”
“Yeah, so I ended up seeing George and Angelina kissing in front of the door to Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes, and since someone,” you stared at him pointedly, “didn’t tell me he had an identical twin, I assumed it was you.”
Fred was silent for a moment. “I have been coming to your shop nonstop for months, and you still thought I had a girlfriend the whole time?”
“Well now it seems stupid-”
He kissed you lightly before you could finish. “You can never make fun of me for being clueless again.”
“Don’t worry, I’m sure you’ll find a way to upstage me.”
Fred wrapped his arm around you and pulled you close. You couldn’t stop the stupid smile that was on your face, and you were sure Fred had a similar one right next to you. He squeezed your shoulder, and you leaned your head against him. Warmth enveloped you, and you’d never been so comfortable before.
“Don’t worry, love,” Fred said. “You’re the only one I think about.”
*
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Text
Homecoming
A little one shot that refused to leave my head until I had written it!
****
Buck and Tommy were both on their 48 hours off. It always felt kind of magical when their schedules lined up perfectly. They were sitting on Tommy's couch, Buck's head in Tommy's lap as he slowly ran his fingers through Buck's curls. At some point, the conversation turned to their favorite calls they'd ever been on.
"Tommy, it was so sweet and beautiful," Buck began, his eyes lighting up with the memory. "This guy, he did everything he could to make it home to his family in time for his daughter's Christmas concert. He'd been deployed for months, and it was going to be a surprise."
Buck's voice grew more animated as he continued, "We managed to get him there just in time. The look on his daughter's face when she saw him in the audience... God, Tommy, it was incredible. They had missed him so much."
Buck began to choke up, overwhelmed by the emotion of the memory.
Tommy nodded with a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "Sounds great, sweetheart," he said in a low, rough voice. "Really... really special."
Buck, caught up in his recollection, didn't notice the slight strain in Tommy's voice or the way his smile seemed forced. Tommy continued to stroke Buck's hair, but his mind seemed elsewhere.
"What about you?" Buck asked, turning his head to look up at Tommy. "What's your most memorable call?"
Tommy hesitated, his hand stilling in Buck's hair. There was a flicker of something – pain, perhaps – in his eyes before he masked it. "I... I'm not sure," he said finally, his voice distant. "There have been so many."
Buck frowned slightly, sensing something off in Tommy's demeanor. "Hey," he said softly, reaching up to touch Tommy's cheek. "You okay?"
Tommy took a deep breath, his eyes growing distant. "I just... those soldier homecoming things are hard for me," he admitted, his voice thick with emotion. "Soldiers coming home to their loved ones. Everyone so excited to see them. Telling them how much they missed them. I just... that wasn't my experience when I came home from Iraq."
Buck sat up, turning to face Tommy, his expression filled with concern and understanding. He took Tommy's hand in his own, encouraging him to continue.
Tommy's voice was barely above a whisper as he shared his memory. "I came home on a plane full of soldiers. When we arrived and exited the plane, there were signs and people hugging and crying. And I just stupidly stood there with no one waiting for me."
Buck's heart clenched at the pain in Tommy's voice. He squeezed Tommy's hand, his own eyes filling with tears. "Oh, Tommy," he said softly. "I'm so sorry. I can't imagine how lonely that must have felt."
Tommy nodded, swallowing hard. "It was... it was tough. Don't get me wrong, I'm happy for those who have people waiting for them. But sometimes, hearing those stories, it just brings back that moment of feeling so alone."
Buck pulled Tommy into a tight embrace. "You're not alone anymore," he murmured into Tommy's ear. "I'm here. And I promise you, I'll always be here.
As they held each other, Buck realized how much there was still to learn about the man he loved.
"Thank you for sharing that with me," Buck said softly as they pulled apart. "I love you, Tommy. All of you, including the parts that hurt."
Buck's eyes were filled with tenderness and determination as he continued, his voice low and sincere. "If you let me and trust me, I will do everything I can to bandage the broken parts of your heart."
Tommy's breath caught at the depth of emotion in Buck's words. He cupped Buck's face gently, his thumb tracing Buck's cheekbone. "Evan," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "You already do. Every day, just by being you, you heal parts of me I didn't even know were broken."
Buck leaned into Tommy's touch, his eyes brimming with tears. "I want to be there for you, always. To create new memories that overshadow the painful ones. To be the one waiting for you, no matter what."
Tommy pulled Buck close, burying his face in the crook of Buck's neck. "You are," he murmured. "You're my home now, Evan. The best home I've ever had."
And they settled back into each other's arms, there was a new depth to their connection, born from both vulnerability and understanding.
In that moment, Tommy felt lighter than he had in a long time. He smiled at his boyfriend, a newfound warmth in his eyes. "So, my favorite call," he began, his voice soft but content, "it all started with an old friend reaching out to me about a missing cruise ship..."
Buck's eyes widened in recognition, a slow smile spreading across his face. He playfully punched Tommy's shoulder, his heart swelling with love and appreciation for the man beside him.
And as Tommy began to recount the story – their story – Buck snuggled closer, hanging on every word.
Also available on Ao3
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