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#i will literally tear my hair out from psychic pain if i try to sit thru sumn i don't think is good or even entertaining
eclaire-went-bam · 4 months
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every time someone asks me how good a movie i've seen is, i absolutely need them to start telling me what their standards & guilty pleasures with movies are bcs IDK WHAT U CONSIDER GOOD !!!!!!!!!
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heyy it's the giyuu simp hiding in your request box ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ mind if i sneak in another request :> just gonna slide this with a belated valentines day card
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may i request a giyuu x reader headcanons? where its just giyuu and the reader living a peacefull and happy life with their kids, just fluff of how their every day life goes and giyuu with his kids :D maybe even some headcanons of the other pillars meeting the kids and his s/o (feel free to change the idea ofcc i don't mind if you write it at all (~^.^)~)
Hello fellow Giyuu simp lolol
This sounds really cute! Of course I’ll write it! ʕ◡ᴥ◡ʔ♡
This turned out to be very long haha hope you don’t mind :)
Giyuu x Fem!Reader with Kids!! ♡
AU: Life Without Demons
♡ 𐐪𐑂 ₒ 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ° 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ₒ 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ° 𐐪𐑂 ♡
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♡ 𐐪𐑂 ₒ 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ° 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ₒ 𐐪𐑂 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 ° 𐐪𐑂 ♡
Giyuu was the first to ask for kids. It was a shock since you’d figure he’d be too nervous and insecure to think he’d be able to be a father. But he loves you too much to not have children with you. He just can’t picture his life without you and both of your guys’ children in his future.
“Y/N...” he approaches you timidly, “I have um something to ask you...” he kept fidgeting with his hands and struggled making eye contact. His cheeks starting to burn. “What is it, Giyuu??” He sat there a bit, his brows knitted together as if he’d trying to figure out how to compile his sentence. “Let’s have children!” He finally bursts out boldly. You were taken back for a second but smiled wide and hugged him, agreeing with all of your heart.
Giyuu didn’t want too many kids. He only wanted about two children. (Maybe three children he’s thinking on it 👀) And that’s what you both had. One boy and one girl. The boy took more of your looks but also had a good mix of Giyuu as well. He ended up taking his eyes and messy hair but had your hair color and overall facial features. The girl was a very good mix between the two of you. The boy was the eldest child.
Giyuu was the type of parent to spoil his children a lot. You often had to stop him because it got hard for him to say no to them a lot of the times. But when it came down to it, he knew when to be strict and stand his ground. Like if one of your children throws a tantrum for not getting the toy they want, Giyuu would have a stern tak with them about how they need to learn the importance of being told “no” and to handle it like a “big boy/girl”
Giyuu would also do whatever it takes to help you with anything around the house or with the kids. He’d also do anything to spend as much time with his children as possible.
Giyuu also secretly loved it when his kids would get nightmares and ask to sleep with the both of you. He really loved sleeping next to his family and would often invite the kids into the futon even if they didn’t have a nightmare that night. They’d always get really excited and join without hesitation. He also LOVES holding their hands. He loves how tiny and soft they are in his large, calloused ones. He also really loved having them ride on his shoulders
When it came down to being the good cop bad cop, you both had an equal share between it. I can see Giyuu being pretty strict but not to the point where it’s suffocating. He’d still take extra precautions to make sure his kids are safe and don’t get into trouble. He also tries to come to complete understandings with his children when they’re in disagreements with him. He’d sit and talk with them and make sure they don’t feel invalidated or hurt. Sometimes though, he’ll have to put his foot down and tell his children to listen to them and not question his thinking. He’ll often try to come back to them later and explain again.
Kamboko Squad and Pillars’ Reactions to First Born (and general interactions with kids)
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꘎♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡꘎
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When the news got out to everyone that you both were expecting children, they were all so very excited.
You were a few weeks pregnant and Tanjirou (and the rest of the squad) came by to visit and he was able to smell it off you. You were a little shocked how he was able to notice until he explained how his mom smelled a certain way when pregnant with his siblings. Then it made a bit more sense. Kind of.
Poor little boy teared up because of how happy he was for the both of you. He was so happy to see Giyuu with the love of his life and now starting a family. Inosuke got all those fluffy things around his head. He was very soft and gentle around you and it was really cute. Sometimes he’d just stare at your bloated stomach and it seemed like he was having a psychic conversation with the baby lolol.
Nezuko was very excited to meet the new baby and couldn’t wait nine months! Zenitsu was really happy for the both of you and it really warmed his heart to hear the baby’s heartbeat. He also got very scared for you because he heard that giving birth if very painful and he’d never want to go through something like that either.
They all saw your kids as their own little siblings, especially Tanjirou. Tanjirou is very good with kids so they ended up liking Tanjirou a lot and would often beg you to let him visit more often so they could play with him. Nezuko also saw them and her own siblings and would always volunteer to knit/fix their haoris if they ever got damaged. She always brought snacks (usually toasted rice crackers) for the kids when she visited. She also helped with cooking dinner when she visited.
Zenitsu loved playing with them. Until one day your son found a worm and showed it to Zenitsu and he freaked out and thought it was a snake for a second. He started to become more wary of your son from then on.
Inosuke shared his boar mask with them and would let them ride on his back as he ran around. He also visited one day with a nicely wrapped box (wrapped by Tanjirou) and gifted it to your kids. You and Giyuu were very confused to see that it only had acorns in there.
You had Shinobu do regular check ups with you to make sure the pregnancy was going well. Despite her constant teasing, she actually told Giyuu how happy she was for him. This really warmed his heart and he couldn’t thank Shinobu enough for all her help. She helped with both the pregnancies/deliveries
Mitsuri was so so SO excited to meet the new babies!! She seemed more excited than you and Giyuu! She loves babies and thinks they’re really cute. And the fact that it’s going to be yours and Giyuu’s baby??? Geez, that just makes it 10x more adorable!! She really really wanted to be the first friend to hold the baby so you granted her wish. She was crying so much, she was so happy.
The baby’s cheeks became very red from how much Mitsuri pinched them. She nicknamed him her “Little Mochi” because of his squishy cheeks. (and she nicknamed your girl her “Little Sakura”)
Obanai kept trying to deny how happy and excited he was. “Hmph! I don’t do babies. Not at all.” But then he saw its cute, little chubby cheeks and couldn’t resist. He then vowed to be the greatest uncle to your baby boy (and girl once she visited the world)
Kyojuro was really excited to meet the baby too. His booming voice scared the baby and made him cry so Kyo learned to be more quiet around him. He was so nervous holding the baby but then got more use to it and didn’t want to hand him back. He wanted to hold on to the little boy forever!!
Muichiro was mostly dazed out but waved his finger in front of him and your little baby boy held onto him. Muichiro got very happy. “Y/N, Y/N! Look! He’s- he’s holding on to me!!” You’ve never seen him smile so wide. He’d often visit and be like, “Can I play with him today? I’ve missed him.” And he’d play with him for hours! He was the same with your little girl as well once she came around.
Sanemi kept trying to act all tough. “No! I don’t care about kids! Least of all babies! I couldn’t care less about Tomioka’s stupid ba-“ his eyes widened when he saw the baby. Then you saw the most softest smile on his face for the first time. He hugged the baby tight to him and didn’t let go or move for a while. He might or might not have teared up. But you swore with him that you saw nothing 👀 He’d make plenty of ohagi for the kids and make some extra for you and Giyuu. Giyuu was very happy to see Sanemi opening up a bit more and glad he became better friends with him as well.
“Tch, don’t get too comfortable, Tomioka. I’m only here for my niece, nephew and Y/N.” He was teasing he loved Giyuu too.
Tengen and his wives were all over the baby! His wives loved the baby so so so much!! They even planned out a baby shower for you when they heard the news so a lot of your baby stuff came from them! Once he finally joined the world, all of them teared up from joy. They all took turns holding the baby, playing with him, bouncing him on their laps. Tengen said that if you or Giyuu ever needed help, him and his wives were right there anytime.
The wives loved playing with your daughter! They’d often do her hair and make it really pretty. They’d also often spoil her with new pretty kimonos and hairpins and always said, “Once she gets older, we’ll always have girls nights out! Do all kind of girl talks and girl things! It’ll be so much fun!!”
Tengen got the baby a whole bunch of shiny jewelry and was like, “Ha! Now your baby boy shall be flamboyant! Even more flamboyant than he was before!!” He also secretly found it extremely adorable how he looked like a little baby Giyuu at first. Then he grew to have more of your facial features and it just made it even cuter for Tengen. He had a little soft spot for your daughter because he thought having a daughter would be very precious so he’d literally do anything for her (and would protect her with his life)
Gyomei was SO happy!!! He of course teared up too and was very very gentle with him. It was kind of cute seeing such a large man hold such a tiny little human. It’s like he could fit them each in one palm. He was one of your go to nanny’s and he’d always wear a pink apron when looking over the kids. He’d spoil them with lots of baked sweets. Everytime he visited, he always had a new beaded necklace to gift them. They ended getting too many and he stopped at one point. But he still gave them one on their birthdays
Shinobu found babies/kids a bit icky since they do have many bodily fluids they can’t control and sometimes don’t wash their hands but she still did normal check ups with them and was very good with them. She’d often visit with some new toys for the kids. She even got your daughter and little butterfly clip. Your son felt left out so she got him one too. For a while both your kids refered to her as the “Butterfly Lollipop Lady” since she gave them lollipops after every doctor visit. She’d just smile chillingly at Giyuu and say, “Tomioka-San, I figured you’d at least teach them my name after all I’ve done for you and your wife.” She was just teasing, she secretly loved her nickname
Shinobu also really loved listening to the baby’s heartbeat through a stethoscope. She also loved putting her hand on your belly and often talked to the baby. She’ll never admit to anyone else but she really enjoyed doing these things with both your pregnancies
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spiderwcd · 3 years
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take care of yourself/ s. stilinksi
pairing: stiles stilinksi x reader
warnings: angst and defeat
summary: the group is searching for their parents and y/n is a psychic and agreed to help them after draining her battery. will she pull through?
prompts: “i’m... trying. i’m trying.” “how long has it been since you slept?”
gif not mine!!
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you were nervous for tonight. with everything going on recently, you never had time to put your head down which meant constant use of your powers. you wanted to close your eyes so badly when driving with stiles in his jeep, but you maintained your consciousness for a bit longer.
“we think we may have found something, anything really but we don’t know if it’s worthy,” stiles sighed as he clutched onto the wheel. “what do you think?” he asked you as he looked over for a second.
you were staring out the window, spacing out fight hard with the migraine that pounded your head. your hand was tucked under your chin as you forced your eyes to stay open.
“y/n.” stiles’s hand placed on your shoulder, this catching you off guard causing you to jump. you shook your head as you blinked hard.
“yeah what’s up?” you asked in a hoarse voice as you looked up at stiles.
“i was asking if you understood the plan and if the information we found would be worthy.” he restated to you. did stiles voice always echo loudly in your head?
“yeah. uh i think so.” you nodded softly.
stiles nods in response not focusing on your current state due to the constant worry of the safely of his last parent.
✰ ✰ ✰ ✰
once they got to the station with everyone around the table of evidence they have collected throughout the day.
“y/n here’s all the things to locate our parents.” scott heaved with an anxious breath. “this enough?” he asked.
you felt the room twirl and the voices around you echo loudly in your mind. “y-yeah i think so.” you answer with hesitation.
you grab the objects they provided on the ground as you tried to feel the energy of them but your mind was too tired to concentrate.
you force yourself to try to feel them but your migraine grew worse. you felt like crying out in pain but held it in.
“y/n!,” you suddenly hear. “why aren’t your doing anything? this not enough?” scott asked you as you felt sweat drip down your cold neck.
“i’m... i’m trying. i’m trying...” you whisper as you felt tear drops falling down you quickly wipe them off to avoid anyone asking.
but stiles noticed them and stopped leaning against the table. “y/n...” he started
“no i can do this! i can do this...” you yell out. you took a deep breath in and out as you tried again.
you looked at the objects in front of you and noticed the sheriff badge that belongs to stiles’s dad. you take it into your hand and felt the cold metal badge in your palm. closing your eyes you felt the energy that slowly admitted from the cold star.
you were so close to finding them. so close, it felt like inches away from his dad. but instead you were snapped out of your trance by stiles.
“stiles! stop i’m close i can do it!” you push him away trying to concentrate but everyone pulled you away as you stopped and looked around. your head felt like a bomb about to go off as you notice the worried and concerned faces on everyone.
“y/n...” stiles panted frantically. you frowned slightly wondering why everyone was so worried. you felt something drip off your chin and onto your hand and the badge you held.
your nose was bleeding profusely. you touched your face and noticed blood coming out of your ears as well as your nose.
“o-oh.” you blinked slowly. you tried to stand up from your spot but instead everything went dark and you just felt your body hit the floor as everyone yelled out your name. 
✰ ✰ ✰ ✰
you woke up with your body in unimaginable pain. you sat up as you felt your body ache as you felt sore and worn then before.
“god... my head.” you groaned as you held your head in pain. you try to get off the bed but someone stopped you. your wandering eyes look up at the person and see those familiar honey eyes.
“y/n, you literally passed out on us. sit back down and stay there.” stiles warned you.
“no i have to help you find your dad.” you whisper grumbling barely out.
“y/n,” stiles started. “that was 2 days ago...” he looked down in concern.
you stayed quiet as you tried to find an answer. but instead before you could say anything, stiles asked you a question.
“how long has it been since you slept?”
you didn’t want to answer him but you didn’t want him to worry. so you answered honestly.
“about a week...” you barely let out. you felt his hand on top of your own. you felt tears threatening to spill out with the concern.
“don’t ever do that,” stiles answered seriously “i don’t care what we’re looking for, i never want you to do that to yourself.”
you smiled and hugged him. “thank you stiles.” you held onto him tightly.
“of course.” he whispered into your hair and kissed it and never wanted to let go.
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brinconvenient · 3 years
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Green Egg and Fam
You know what? I'm just gonna go ahead and do this...
So a few years back, I was talking to another trans woman who is very familiar with the DC Universe and we were trying to figure out who is Actually An Egg, and after a few suggestions back and forth, I galaxy-brained the answer. She heartily agreed and we talked about it a bit: 1. Artsy 2. Serial Monogamist who is a Relationship Disaster (Big "Do I want to Be With Her, or Be Her?" energy) 3. Becomes best friends with every ex-girlfriend 4. Noted Respecter of Women in Very Terrible and Awkward Ways 5. Chronically allergic to self-reflection and introspection, but also addicted to it in much the same way lactose intolerant people talk about how they can't give up cheese. 6. Just a complete and Utter Messy Agent of Chaos. 7. All too willing to adopt Other People's Expectations and internalize them as a Sacred Duty. 8. Just constantly Marked By Tragedy - both external and self-created.
It's Kyle Rayner, kids.
Torchbearer,
Honor Lantern,
Erstwhile Ion/avatar of the power of will
Kyle "I will be the Last of the Green Lanterns and yet keep trying to ressurect this entire Corps of Space Cops that I didn't even know existed until some Blue Dude showed up to give me jewelry and I guess marry me into the Corps? Because I guess that's just my job now and that will become my whole personality" Rayner.
After the conversation, this - the only fanfic I have literally ever written popped out of my head fully formed. It's intended to really be Chapter 1 of Several which are basically conversations between Kyle and one Ex-Girlfriend per chapter as Kyle finally accepts herself and transitions.
Eventually she reveals that the name "Ion" comes from her real name "ImOgeN" because she read Nevada and Was Impacted and she's just that extra.
But, honestly, despite getting started on the Alex chapter ages ago, I never have drawn the energy to go back and finish and/or write more, so I'm just gonna share the first chapter of what I am calling:
"Green Egg and Fam"
Putting the actual content behind the Read More because I've already rambled too long.
“It’s just exhausting, you know? Every few years it seems like I have to pick up the pieces of my life, my memory, my self and figure out who the hell I am! Every time I get a handle on things, someone or something comes along and shakes up the snow globe,y’know? I’ve tried to talk to Diana about it and, like, she’s compassionate and cares and offers sympathy, but most of the time, my whole relationship with her is just one more flake in the globe and I never know who we’re going to be to each other. Somehow, though, you’re always my favorite ex-boyfriend. It’s weird, right?”
Kyle patted Donna’s arm reassuringly. He glanced from Donna’s face to the view over Lake Michigan. There was no more beautiful view of the lakeshore than the roof of the John Hancock Building. He could just about make out the lights of the small shore towns across the lake in Michigan, and he could see the industrial Indiana towns along the round tip of the lake.
“I’m not positive I like that descriptor of our relationship, but I am happy to be some kind of constant for you,” he said with a rueful smile. “Donna, you are one of my dearest friends and I always want to be here for you. I know you didn’t need my help with Dr. Psycho here, but I’m glad I was Earthside to help you out anyway.”
They’d taken the diminutive psychic menace to the Chicago Special Crimes Unit, who had training and facilities for telepaths and telekinetics. They found this perch when Donna said she just needed a little bit to settle down before heading back to the Titans Tower in New York.
“No, I had him just about handled - a Lasso of Persuasion is pretty useful, after all - but I’m glad you swung through, all the same,” Donna said. “I’m glad to have a friend here. Psycho was really messing with my head this time. He kept dredging through my memory, pulling out bits and pieces of lives lived and people lost. He made me relive the loss of Terry and Robert and Jenny, over and over, replayed the tortures of Dark Angel, dragged me through that whole mess with the Titans of Myth, and I’m actually not sure which of any of those actually happened in this reality anymore.”
Donna’s breath was getting ragged and tears were falling down her face, twinkling in the moonlight.
“You told me about Terry and the kids when we were dating, so since I still remember them, they must still have existed and they still loved you and you still got to love them. I’m a little fuzzy on the Titans of Myth, so I can’t be sure about that stuff. But you’re here now and that’s what’s important right now. Just take a sec to enjoy this moment, this view, this night and see how you feel, ok?” he said.
They sat in the quiet, next to each other, watching the waves reflect and distort the moonbeams. Donna’s breathing calmed down and she straightened her back, half a head taller than Kyle even while sitting.
“Thank you, Kyle. I’ll be ok now, I think. I appreciate you listening. You have a good heart. If you’d only learn to actually fight without that ring, you’d make a pretty decent Amazon. Well … if you weren’t a man, of course.”
Kyle coughed and thanked the stars that Donna couldn’t see him blush. Suddenly Kyle felt like there was lava beneath his skin and he couldn’t sit comfortably.
He didn’t want Donna to catch on, so he stifled his squirming and whipped up a quick construct of a miniature green Kyle in an Amazonian uniform, breastplate, Spartan skirt and calf boots. For added effect he made sure to widen his shoulders and used Hal Jordan as a reference for a jaw far more square than Kyle’s real life chin.
“I’m not sure I can pull off the uniform. Guess I’ll stick with green and black for now. Ha!” he said. He hoped it didn't sound as forced as it felt.
“Oh I don’t know. You’ve got great legs, Kyle! Maybe you should start wearing shorts when in uniform. Besides, you had those over-the-knee boots for the longest time. I think you’d be just fine!” Donna said, laughing.
“Give me a hug, Dick just texted me to meet him in Blüdhaven. Take care and fly safe back to Oa!” she said.
After a quick, warm embrace, she turned eastward and flew off over the lake. Kyle watched her fly out of sight. He looked down and saw little Amazon Kyle, slowly spinning in the air. He drew the construct up to eye level and returned the shoulders and jaw back to his more slender and softer reality. It didn’t look that bad actually.
He’d been trying to make Donna smile, and deflect from … something before, so he exaggerated those features to highlight the incongruence, but he didn’t hate this more realistic image.
He continue to finesse the construct’s features. Like most artists, he never really considered a piece finished, he just stopped working on it. He smoothed the musculature, narrowed the shoulders a little further, pulled the hips out just a bit more, and left the waist alone. The ersatz Kyle’s face got softer still, the brow less pronounced, the nose narrower, the chin just a bit more rounded. He watched the chest muscles soften and breasts form to fill out the breastplate better.
Finally, he lengthened the construct’s hair to shoulder length, adding some wave and curls like Donna’s somehow-always-perfect hair.
And there she was. The woman who’d been haunting Kyle’s dreams as long as he could remember. Slowly spinning in the air was a woman who could easily have been Kyle’s sister, wearing Amazonian garb (or at least what he remembered from seeing Donna’s while they were dating so many years ago).
He didn’t know how much time had passed since he started fiddling with the image, and he didn’t know how long he’d spent staring at the final form. Sister. Yeah, right.
With an angry wave he flashed his hand through the construct, dissolving and dispersing the light particles that he’d given form. He hastily looked around the roof to make sure no one had seen him or, specifically, seen the construct. The burning sensation of shame returned instantly and he immediately flew into the sky until the buildings looked like so many light-speckled building blocks.
He took himself through a calming exercise he learned from Kilowog to help him center himself and sling his ring “like he wasn’t a complete Poozer and deserved to wear it.” Kilowog had no appreciation for just how hard it was for other people to feel calm when he was around. Still, Kyle found it helped when the pink giant wasn’t breathing down his neck.
“My will is strong enough to carry the torch for the entire Green Lantern Corps, I can stop these feelings. I can make all of these thoughts go away. I can stop this. I’ve got too much responsibility to keep indulging this … this nonsense” he thought, trying to ignore the sting of the tears fighting their way free to fall down his face, ignore the pain in his heart.
“I don’t want to lose my friends - what would Donna say? Would she think I was a pervert, or making fun of her somehow? I definitely don’t want to lose Hal’s and the guys’ respect. I don’t want to lose my whole life just because I’m some kind of freak. Get it together, Rayner. No one else is feeling sorry for themselves because they don’t fit in.”
He pulled a hand down his face and pointed his right fist with it’s gaudy, shining green ring on the middle finger toward the Milky Way and flew into space. He hoped the cold solitude of the transluminal conduits would help him regain his composure before he faced Guy, Hal, John and Kilowog for the Honor Lantern meeting. For the millionth time, he wished he could just be more like them, have just a sliver of their easy and effortless masculinity. They made it look so simple.
“Bet they don’t spend half their life trying to figure out what is wrong with them,” he thought. He tried so hard not to envy them, but it was really hard sometimes.
Especially nights like tonight where his resolve had failed him yet again and he gave in to his most hidden thoughts. He entered the transluminal conduit between Saturn and Jupiter and closed his eyes.
He traveled faster than light, but it still took time to reach Oa, so he tried to sleep and hoped that his dreams wouldn’t betray him again.
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teenwolffanclub-me · 4 years
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Season 1, Episode 9: Wolf’s Bane
Hey there beautiful reader! If you’re new here, this is a series I’m writing where each chapter is an episode from the first season of Teen Wolf. If you’ve been here before, hey! I missed you! Previous and future chapters are linked at the end of each part if you want to catch up.
Pairing: Stiles x Psychic! Reader (eventually)
Notes: This ended up being way longer than I anticipated, but I lost all self control while writing. Someone please stop me before this turns into an entire full length novel about Teen Wolf...
P.S. Derek is resurrected just long enough to be helpful, Y/N gets a lesson in seeing the future, and we finally identify the alpha (which is, of course, groundbreaking information for us all)
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                                                      ————————
My fingers tightened around the strap of my bag as I walked through the doors of the high school. My stomach was in knots. It had been for days, actually. It’d gotten all twisted up last Friday, after I drove Allison and Jackson home, somehow managing to only get worse with each passing day.
To say that I was dreading today would be the worlds most massive understatement.
I wasn’t looking forward to seeing anyone. Not Allison, because the guilt I felt every time I looked at her was starting to eat me alive. Not Lydia or Jackson, because they’re both way too self-absorbed to be around when you’re feeling down. And I absolutely, definitely, one hundred percent would not be talking to Scott or Stiles.
As if on cue, my eyes landed on Scott’s dejected frame as I neared my locker. He was leaning against it, his arms crossed tightly over his chest. His eyes rose from the tiled floor to meet mine, and I stopped.
Nope.
I turned on my heel and speed walked the other way. I would gladly carry my things around all day over talking to him right now. He called my name, but I continued as if I hadn’t heard him. Within seconds, he was at my side. 
I let out a frustrated huff. I thought I could outrun him longer than that.
“Hey! You can’t just ignore me for an entire weekend.” He hissed the words out in a rush, as if he had any right to be angry with me.
He’d been ridiculously persistent about apologizing. I’d gotten so many texts and calls from him that I had to eventually just turn my phone off. When I did that, he showed up at my house. I was pretty sure he stayed out there for a couple hours on Saturday, but I locked myself in my room upstairs, so I wasn’t positive.
My jaw clenched as I forced my gaze to stay on the hall in front of me. He kept up with my quick pace easily, unrelenting. I felt his eyes boring into the side of my head, urging me to respond.
I had so much to say, but no idea how to get the words out. I was still furious with him. He’d ruined whatever I had with Stiles in the most spectacularly dickish way and, to top it off, nearly killed me. Like, how the fuck do you even begin talking about that?
“Will you at least tell me if you’re okay? Y/N!” At the harsh snap of my name, I spun around to face him with a glare.
He staggered back a step, an arm raising defensively, and stared at me with wide eyes.
“You want me to talk to you? Then tell me what the hell is going on.” My voice was hard with days-long built up anger.
“What do you mean?” He just blinked, trying to look innocent, and I scoffed.
“You’ve been keeping things from me.” I crossed my arms and raised my eyebrows expectantly.
It was absurdly obvious at this point. He and Stiles both knew way more about well, everything, than I did. The alpha. The full moon. Jackson. I could just feel it. I was being kept out of the loop, despite them constantly roping me into their supernatural problems.
They either needed to start giving me all the information, or just leave me out of it entirely.
He looked like he was about to argue, his mouth opening and closing a few times before he thought better of it with a heavy sigh. He glanced away briefly to scan the bustling hallway before finding my eyes again. “To protect you.”
A rush of air left my lungs in a harsh scoff. Was he actually serious right now?
“I don’t need protection.” I snapped, appalled that he would even try that excuse. I didn’t need him deciding what was best for me, or what information was safe to tell me. “I need to know what’s happening!”
“I can’t...” His voice broke regretfully, his eyes rounding with sadness. There was an internal conflict raging behind them, but the wrong side was winning.
My heart tugged painfully as I blinked back a few frustrated tears. I didn’t let myself get emotional over the weekend. I don’t know why, I just couldn’t. There was still too much to process. It was like I was being forced to complete a puzzle for my life with only a third of the pieces available.
Ultimately, it felt like he didn’t trust me. After everything I’d helped him and Stiles with, I deserved to be an equal partner. Not someone they call when no one else can help because they don’t know he’s a werewolf. Not someone they keep at arms length.
“Then maybe we can’t be friends.” My voice was barely above a whisper as I choked the words out.
I didn’t want to believe that it’d already come to that. He and Stiles were the first people in all the places I’ve lived that never judged me. Our friendship had been surprisingly organic, despite the way it started. I’d never felt like an outsider.
Well, until they started keeping secrets from me.
I stuck around just long enough to catch the crestfallen look on his face before I turned and walked away.
I tugged a hand through my hair and tried to collect myself as I neared my first period class. The break from my problems was short lived, since I share it with him, Stiles, and Allison. My eyes immediately found Stiles as soon as I walked through the classroom door. He was leaning back in his seat, balancing a pencil between his two pointer fingers.
His eyes slowly rose to meet mine and he perked up with a jolt, the pencil clattering to the floor. I looked away, already feeling my resolve crumble at the sight of his big, honey eyes. I slid into my desk which was, unfortunately, right behind him.
I bent down to place my bag onto the tiles beside my feet, taking my time rummaging through its contents to find my English folder. When I eventually sat upright, I reeled back at the sight of Stiles turned around to face me.
One of his plaid covered arms was slung across the back of his chair, his fingers tapping anxiously on the corner of my desk. He looked at me with rounded, hopeful eyes. I swallowed as my heart skipped a beat at the sight. I needed to hold it together. I was mad at him.
“Can we talk?” He murmured timidly as his eyes swept over my face.
I’d gotten a handful of messages from him over the weekend, too, but he’d given me more room to breathe than Scott. Before I could even fully process his question, a harsh voice drew my attention away from him. 
“Y/N, what the hell?” Allison plopped into her seat beside me, her eyes narrowed in annoyance. “You didn’t answer me all weekend. How are you doing?”
Shit. I’d honestly forgotten about the few texts she’d sent after I turned my phone off. A moment later, Scott walked into the room, eyes firmly planted on the floor. I sunk down into my chair, feeling like the walls were closing in around me. I couldn’t face them all at once right now.
Allison threw a hand up in exasperation and I chewed on my bottom lip anxiously. I had to say something.
“I’m...fine.” Yeah, that didn’t sound remotely close to believable, even to my own ears.
I was fine, though. Mostly. The pain in my leg had dissipated enough that some Advil in the morning made it bearable throughout the day. Emotionally, though? I hadn’t even began working through everything. Scott slowly sat at his desk right in front of Allison, shoulders slumped.
“Are you sure? You literally flew like twenty feet in the air.” Her eyes were wide with concern as she watched me closely. Man, I really am the worst friend in the world for ignoring her. If something like that happened to her, I’d be worried sick.
I saw Scott stiffen from the corner of my eye. 
“Whoa, wait a minute. Back up. What are we talking about here?” Stiles’ eyes twitched before jumping back and forth between us.
I let my gaze flicker back to him, surprised. He didn’t know? I glanced at Scott, chest tightening at his guilt ridden expression. Well, I guess there’s my answer.
“Sorry.” Allison mouthed the word silently with a grimace before turning toward the front of the room.
“Hey. Yeah. Stiles talking. What the hell?” I rested my elbows on my desk and rubbed at my temples, letting my eyes fall closed.
It was way too early for all of this. It wasn’t my job to tell him that his best friend almost killed me. We weren’t even on speaking terms right now. Plus, I couldn’t say anything in front of Allison anyway. I was stuck, and I could feel his eyes watching me closely.
“Alright everyone, let’s get started.” Our teacher walked into the room and threw his stuff onto his desk loudly.
I peaked up through my arms, watching as Stiles’ eyes narrowed and lingered on mine for a long moment. He pursed his lips and hesitated before finally turning his back to me. I let out a relieved breath I hadn’t realized I was holding.
This was going to be such a long day.
                                                         ————————
I walked into the cafeteria, feeling emotionally exhausted. I’d spent the first half of the day avoiding anyone who tried talking to me. After class this morning, I was even more aware of the fact that I didn't have the mental capacity to deal with my problems right now. 
My eyes instantly landed on Scott and Stiles, who were sitting by themselves. I let my gaze wander over the room until I found Allison and Lydia. They were sitting clear on the opposite end, which was a little overkill, if you ask me.
It was weird to see our friend group so separated, but Allison and Scott were still barely speaking, and Jackson was M.I.A because he decided to break up with Lydia via text this morning. 
While I wasn't the least bit surprised, and honestly glad to be rid of him, she was still devastated. I headed in their direction, not looking forward to repairing another broken heart, when I heard something that made me stop. 
“Scott. Can you hear me? You can, can’t you?” It was Jackson, standing in a corner by the vending machines. 
My brows furrowed as I followed his intense gaze to where Scott and Stiles sat. Scott was whispering something frantically, looking panicked. 
“Are you trying to pretend not to hear me?” Jackson sounded way too smug for his own good, which honestly wasn’t unusual. 
Scott snapped at Stiles across the room, who just threw his hands up with a shrug.
“So what else can you do? Huh? Can you see better? Are you stronger? More powerful? I knew there was no way you suddenly got that good at lacrosse. Which means you’re actually a cheater, aren't you? I mean, can you even play lacrosse?”
I watched as Scott’s jaw clenched angrily, my heart dropping into my stomach at his words. His fingers tightened around the water bottle he was holding, his entire arm trembling with barely contained rage. 
“I bet my new co-captain is going to score a bunch of shots tonight. Aren’t you? And while you’re pretending you’re not a lying cheat, I’m gonna ruin your life if you don't give me what I want. You know what I’m going to start with? Her.”
My eyes flickered toward Allison, who was laughing at something Lydia said, blissfully unaware of what was happening. “I’m going to destroy any chance you have left with her. And when I’m done with that, I’m going to get her alone, and get my hands all over that tight little body...”
Oh, my God. Okay. I did not need to hear anymore of that. I started walking toward Scott and Stiles briskly, my heart racing. 
Jackson knows. How the hell does he know? Why didn't they tell me he knows?
A few seconds later, I stumbled to a halt in front of their table. Stiles looked up at me with wide eyes, lips parting mid-chew. I ignored him, putting a hand on the table and leaning down so there were only a few inches between Scott and I. 
“Did you tell Jackson?” I hissed quietly, sounding way more freaked out than I meant to. 
He sat there for a few moments, his jaw tensing repeatedly as he tried to tune him out. His eyes flickered up to mine, intense anger swirling inside them. “No. How do you even—it doesn’t matter. That’s the least of my worries right now.”
“That’s the least of your worries?” My voice rose with surprise. Just how much had they been keeping from me?
He squeezed his eyes shut and leaned back in his chair with a heavy sigh. I turned my head and saw that Jackson had disappeared. 
“So...are you talking to me again?” His tone had lost some of it’s edge, but I could tell he was still fuming internally. 
I stood up straight and squared my shoulders. I’d nearly forgotten that I was supposed to be ignoring them. “No. I just...” 
“If you were...would you help me with something?” He looked hopeful, and I took a moment to consider it. 
“No.” Stiles interjected before I had a chance to respond. He glared at Scott before his hard eyes moved to me. “No. You’re not getting involved.” 
My mouth dropped open in surprise. Who the hell did he think he was? He had no right to tell me what to do. In fact, his dismissal only made me want to do it more.
“I’ll help.” I narrowed my eyes at Stiles angrily before moving my attention to Scott. “If you tell me everything that’s going on.”
He pursed his lips, looking thoughtful. A jolt of hope rose through my chest. 
“No way. Not gonna happen.” Stiles scoffed, his tray clattering against the table as he slammed his water bottle down onto it. 
My eyes jerked back to him, my jaw clenching. “Stilinski, I swear to—”
“Y/N.” Scott interrupted, his voice soft. “He’s actually right. It’s better this way.”
I stood there for a moment, my hands clenching into fists at my sides. I couldn't believe they were being so stubborn about this. It seemed like things had shifted so suddenly. One day, I was helping them with everything and the next, I’m being left out entirely. 
“Fine. I’ll find out myself.” I huffed and turned on my heel, stalking away from them and right through the doors. 
I didn't stop until I stomped my way out into the parking lot. I was beyond over their secrets and lies. I wanted answers, and I knew where to get them. I wasn’t exactly jumping at the chance to do what I was about to do, but this person said they’d help me once before. 
I just hoped the offer was still good. 
                                                             ———————
I looked up at the house and let out a long sigh, shaking my arms at my sides to get rid of some of the nerves vibrating through me. I can do this. 
It’s not scary. It’s not scary. It’s not—
I nearly jumped out of my skin as something rustled in a nearby tree, but felt my shoulders sag with relief as a squirrel ran across the ground in front of me. I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to gather enough courage to get closer. 
I forced myself up the rickety porch steps, one foot in front of the other. My hand came up and lightly rapped on the front door. The second my knuckles connected with the chipped wood, it swung open with a loud squeal. 
I peaked my head inside, squinting through the darkness that blanketed the entrance despite it being the middle of the day. “Derek?”
It didn’t look like he was here. It didn't look like anything living had been here for awhile, actually. Almost every surface in the house was covered by a thin layer of dust, broken furniture cluttering the space. I took a tentative step inside, my heartbeat rising as I glanced around. Truthfully, I was still terrified of the guy, but he’d saved me from Scott a few days ago. I knew he couldn't be all bad. 
The floorboards creaked at the top of the stairs, and my head whipped in that direction. My eyes scanned the area as best they could through the dark, but didn’t find anything. I tried to steady my breathing as I continued forward. Another sound made me whirl around, but once again, I was alone. Okay. Maybe this was a bad idea. I should just leave. 
I turned toward the door, and immediately let out a startled scream at the sight of a tall figure standing right in front of me. 
“Y/N.” Derek greeted, his voice entirely too level. 
I put a hand on my chest and tried to catch my breath. “Goddamn. Do you always have to do that?”
His eyes wandered over my face skeptically, his lips pressed into a firm line. I took a small step back, my shoulders tensing. Even if I knew he wasn’t completely evil, he was still scary as shit. 
“What exactly are you doing here?” 
“You’ve been helping Scott, right?” I wheezed out, deciding to get right to business. He just stared at me blankly, so I continued. “Well he hasn't really been honest with me lately, and I want answers.”
His thick brows pulled together as he took a slow step toward me. “And you thought I would give them to you?” 
I scrambled back again, watching him closely. I wasn't even sure if he was trying to be intimidating. His whole aura was just...a lot. It was the leather jacket he always wore, and the scowl that seemed permanently etched into his face. Not to mention the fact that he somehow always found a way to emerge from the shadows. 
“I...I don't know.” I stammered, losing the small bit of confidence I had. 
“I would say, if Scott doesn't want you involved, it’s probably for a good reason.” His hazel eyes stayed locked onto mine. They were almost impossible to read. 
It was obvious he wasn't going to tell me anything. I couldn’t even pretend to be surprised. I knew it was a long shot. I figured, though, that while I was here I should bring up something else that’d been nagging at me...
“A few weeks ago, you said you could help me learn control.” I rushed the words out, my skin prickling with anxiety.
He studied me for a moment, his eyes narrowing slowly. “So?”
“So...” I drawled, squaring my shoulders in an effort to look confident. “Help me.”
                                                          ———————
“Y/N, just concentrate.” 
I blew out a frustrated huff and let my eyes pop open. 
“What do you think I’ve been doing for the last hour?” I snapped, sagging back into the dilapidated couch we sat on. 
Derek had been trying to help me “vision”, as he called it, for what felt like an eternity. I wasn’t getting anywhere despite his advice. He apparently knew a lot about almost every supernatural creature there was. Not that I fell into that category. I was more like...supernatural adjacent. 
He’d made sure I knew that I was still human, but I was already well aware. There’s no super strength or heightened reflexes going on here. Just bad dreams and occasional sleepwalking. 
“You need to find something that helps you get control. We call it an anchor.” He insisted from beside me, resting his elbows on his knees and gesturing with his hands. 
“An anchor.” I said slowly, trying the word out for myself.
He nodded and rose to his feet suddenly. “It can be a feeling, a memory, an object...even a person. It’s just something that helps you concentrate and focus your power.”
I watched as he walked across the room and crouched down a few feet away. He inspected the floor for a few moments before picking something up and striding back to where I sat. He held his hand out, palm facing the ceiling, and my face scrunched in confusion. 
“Why are you giving me a rock?” My gaze flickered back up to his face and he rolled his eyes impatiently. It was the first actual emotion—other than anger—I’d ever seen him express.
“It’s just a physical object to help you. Try to think about something that makes you feel a strong emotion.” I studied the small stone skeptically, but eventually took it from him.
I rolled it around in my palm, trying to wrack my brain for anything that could cause a reaction. I went over the past few weeks, letting my eyes fall closed. 
I thought about mom, and how she’d packed up her entire life several times just so I could have a chance at a normal life. I thought about how quickly Allison and I had become friends, and how horrible it was that I was still keeping everything from her. I thought about Lydia, and wondered if she would ever stop pretending to be a moron. And Jackson, well, I was pretty sure there were no redeeming qualities beneath his superficial exterior. 
Then, my mind wandered to Scott. Ever since that first night I moved into the house next to his, he’d been a constant in my life. For better or worse. I’d helped him through so many ridiculous situations. Digging up Derek’s sister, avoiding death at the hands of Allison’s family, and running from the alpha to name a few. He’d been there for me countless times, too. 
And lastly...there was Stiles. My heart twisted painfully at the thought of him, my face falling into a grimace. 
“There.” Derek spoke up suddenly, making me jump. My eyes fluttered open to look at him in question. “Whatever you just did was working.”
My skin exploded with heat as embarrassment rushed through me, even though he had no idea what I’d been thinking about. Great. My anchor is a spastic teenage boy who spends most of his time lying to me. 
“Try again.” Derek insisted and sat back down on the other end of the couch. I let out a long sigh. 
Here goes nothing.
My eyes slipped closed and I let my mind wander back to Stiles. I replayed our most significant moments together. Like all the times he protected me at the school that night we were trapped, and the way he’d kissed me out of relief when I didn't get eaten alive. Then there were the two times we’d shared a bed. Those were the only nights I’d managed to escape my vivid, and sometimes terrifying dreams since moving here. 
I thought back to last week and felt my lips pull into a frown. All my recent memories of him had been tarnished by the secrets he was keeping. 
My fingers clenched around the rock. It suddenly felt like my senses were dulling. My brows furrowed as I started to drift off. It didn’t feel like I was falling asleep, just that I wasn’t fully conscious in the present. My mind was going somewhere else. 
My skin slowly went numb. My ears rang as the sound of Derek’s shuffling beside me drifted into nothingness. The ground shifted beneath me and my eyes jerked open.
I froze, my breath catching in my throat as shock surged through me. I was standing in the middle of a field. It was dark, the only illumination coming from the massive overhead spotlights. My head whipped from side to side as I tried to figure out exactly where I was.
It was...the lacrosse field? At school? I took a few tentative steps forward, arms wrapping around myself as the frigid air bit into my skin. 
What the hell was this? I was just in Derek’s house a second ago. Was I hallucinating or something?
I let out a shuddering breath, a cloud of condensed air fanning my face. Just then, a bloodcurdling scream sounded from behind me. I spun on my heel painfully fast, but immediately stiffened at the sight on the other end of the field.
There was someone crumpled on the turf, covered in blood. I moved forward slowly, feeling a strong urge to see who it was. The only thing I could hear was the hammering of my own heart in my ears. There wasn’t a single other soul around, adding to the eerie emptiness.
It felt like it took days to reach the body. When I got close enough to see their face, though, I broke out into a sprint.
It was Lydia.
She was wearing what looked like a formal dress, blood splattered across her torso. I fell onto my knees beside her, hands shaking as they gripped her shoulders. I turned her onto her back and brushed big clumps of strawberry blonde hair away from her face.
I couldn’t tell if she was breathing. My eyes flickered down to her side and I reeled back at the sight of deep bite marks just above her hip. With a grimace, I bent over her body and placed my ear against her chest to try and hear a heartbeat.
Oh, God. Please have a heartbeat.
I froze at the sound of rustling from the tree line nearby. My gaze slowly lifted, landing on two glowing red eyes in the shadows.
Only this time, they were attached to a man.
With a harsh gasp, my eyes popped open. I sputtered out a few coughs and felt a steadying hand at my back, pulling me up into a sitting position. My eyes moved around frantically as I tried to get my bearings.
My shoulders sagged as I realized I was back in Derek’s house. Had I even left? What the hell was that? When did I lay down?
He leaned close, his eyes searching mine. “What did you see?”
I blinked, trying to process what the hell just happened. I’d never experienced anything like that in my life. It felt so real. 
“Lydia.” I gasped, my chest heaving with labored breaths.
I put a hand over my heart, trying to steady it. My head jerked from side to side as I took in the dusty floors and broken walls around me. I wasn’t fully convinced that I was actually here. 
“Okay, good.” Derek nodded encouragingly, and my eyes snapped back to his. “What was she doing?”
My mouth opened and closed a few times as I tried to gather my thoughts. I finally got my breathing under control, but my heart was still clattering in my chest painfully. It felt like I’d just been in a dream, but it wasn't like any dream I’d ever had before. My stomach twisted painfully. I knew exactly what it was, but that meant...
“Y/N.” He urged, eyes still studying my every move. 
“I—” I swallowed, trying to collect myself. “I think she was dead.”
                                                          ———————
This plan was beyond stupid. 
I was sitting in the passenger seat of Derek’s car, which was parked in front of the long term care section of the hospital. Since he’d helped me earlier, I agreed to do him a favor. Apparently that meant I’d be talking to his comatose uncle’s nurse. 
He told me that Stiles had traced the weird text Allison got that night we were stuck in the school, and it came from a computer here while logged into Ms. McCall’s account. The fact that I knew nothing about any of this made me ten times angrier with him. 
“And what is Scott doing again?” I sighed, unbuckling my seatbelt. 
“Stealing Allison’s necklace.” Derek deadpanned, as if it should’ve been obvious. 
“Right. Of course, because it has a symbol on it that your sister left as a clue for you...”
I glanced over at him and he nodded slowly, face as stoic as ever. I swear this guy has never smiled a day in his life. “Okay. I’ll be right back.”
I popped the car door open and stepped outside, letting my eyes slowly scan the building. I swallowed nervously and stole one last glance at Derek over my shoulder. His eyebrows rose expectantly and I forced myself to turn back around.
I had a bad feeling deep in my gut, but tried to ignore it as I hesitantly stepped toward the door. I wrapped my fingers around the handle and let out a long breath. This was fine. Just because I was doing a favor for a slightly terrifying werewolf, didn’t mean I was going to get hurt.
I pulled the door open and took a few tentative steps inside. When I noticed a moment later that the place was completely deserted, I froze. There wasn’t a single other person around, nothing but eerie silence filling the space. It was late, yeah, but there should be someone here. 
“Uh...hello?” I called, hoping the nurses were just on break nearby or something.
When I got no response, I continued forward slowly. I scanned the area quickly, trying to find any signs of life. The unusual stillness made the hairs on my arms stand up straight with apprehension. I peered through the glass above the welcome desk to my left, trying to find anything useful.
Well, as long as no one is around...
I jogged around the desk and jiggled the mouse beside the computer. The screen hummed to life and I glanced up quickly to make sure I was still alone, before clicking through the open tabs until I found the patient database.
I hastily typed Peter Hale—the name of Derek’s uncle—and quickly scanned his file. I found his room number easily and shut the computer down before going on my way.
As soon as I turned the corner, though, I ran smack into a hard chest. I let out a surprised yelp and stumbled over my own feet, the other person rearing back with a dramatic flail of their arms.
“Jesus! What are you doing here?” Stiles practically yelled, his voice a mixture of anger and shock as he looked at me with wide eyes.
Well, damn. I wasn’t expecting that. 
“What are you doing here?” I leaned toward him and hissed, my voice a harsh whisper despite us being the only people around. “You’re supposed to be starting tonight.”
His eyes lit up with surprise and I felt a blush creep up my neck. I’d heard from Lydia that he’d been promoted to first line on the lacrosse team. It wasn’t like I was keeping tabs on him or anything, but he’d been hoping for this all year, so I was confused to see him here instead. The game should be starting any minute.
“I’m just...checking something out.” He stuttered, one of his hands coming up to scratch at the back of his head.
I rolled my eyes and turned on my heel, ready to walk away from him. He just couldn’t stop lying to me. It didn’t matter anyway. I had a mission to accomplish and I shouldn’t be wasting time by talking to him.
I only made it a few steps before a gentle hand gripped my elbow.
“Hey,” He called softly, and I hesitated a moment before turning to face him. “Scott told me what happened. Are you okay?”
I let my eyes trail over him slowly. He still wore the white undershirt and blue plaid button-up he’d had on at school, but had added his black jacket on top. The same one he’d let me borrow a few times before. He was studying me with his big, caramel eyes.
He looked and sounded like the same Stiles, but something felt different between us. After the events of the last few days, it was like there was a roadblock whenever we tried talking. We were more distant than we’d ever been, and it didn’t sit right in my chest.
I opened my mouth to respond, but paused when my phone started ringing loudly in my back pocket. I tugged my arm out of his hold and quickly pulled it out of my back pocket, scoffing when I saw Derek’s name on the screen.
“What?” I sighed, hoping he didn’t need me to do anything else. I wanted to get out of here as quickly as possible.
“Did you find her?” He rushed the words out quickly, sounding anxious.
My eyes flickered to Stiles, who was watching me closely, his brows pinched in confusion. I just walked around him and started toward Peter’s room. I heard his quick footsteps as he trailed after me, but tried my best to ignore him.
“No one is here.” I finally made it to his room and stopped in the doorway. It was empty, too.
“What?” Derek barked, voice rising.
“What do you mean, what? His nurse isn’t here, and he’s gone too. Are you sure this—”
“Y/N, you have to get out of there. Right now. It’s him. He’s the alpha! Get out!”
I staggered back a step at his frantic yelling and let my arm fall down to my side, ending the call. My heart lurched in my chest as I heard shuffling from around the corner.
“Was that Derek?” Stiles snapped anxiously behind me. “Did he just say—”
“Well, hello there.” My head jerked to the side at the sudden voice, my eyes widening as they landed on a man who was leaning against the wall a few feet away.
He was partially cloaked in darkness, but I could make out that he was tall and had shaggy brown hair. His lips twitched up into a slow smirk and I noticed that half of his face was covered in nasty looking scars. I could only assume that it was Peter.
Stiles suddenly gripped my hand and tugged me down the hall with him as he started running away. We only made it a few steps before a nurse appeared out of nowhere, stepping into our path. We stumbled back, nearly crashing right into her.
“What are you doing here? Visiting hours are over.” She practically snarled with a sinister smile.
“You...” Stiles pointed at her with a shaky hand, looking between her and Peter frantically. “And him...you’re the one...oh my—and he’s the...oh my God, we’re gonna die.”
Just then, Derek stepped around the corner and smashed his elbow into the nurse’s face. I staggered back with a gasp, not expecting the violent move. She crumpled to the floor in a heap, passed out cold. I just stared at her body with wide eyes.
“Oh, that’s not nice...” My head whipped around as Peter drawled lazily. “That’s my nurse.”
“She’s a psychotic bitch helping you kill people.” Derek took a threatening step forward, his face a hardened mask of anger. “Get out of the way.”
He hadn’t even so much as glanced at us as he muttered the words, but it was obvious who he was talking to. Stiles wrapped an arm around my waist and pulled me against his chest before sliding us to the floor. I pressed my back into the wall, my body trembling with fear.
“You think I killed Laura on purpose? One of my own family?” Peter strode toward Derek quickly, hands clenching into fists at his sides.
“Hey, it’s okay.” Stiles murmured, causing my eyes to snap up toward him. He had one arm wrapped around me, the other propped up against the wall caging me in safely. His eyes flickered over me quickly as if surveying for signs of damage. 
Derek suddenly growled loudly, and I peered around Stiles’ shoulder just in time to see his eyes flashing bright blue as he snarled, his canines extending. He jumped up, using a wall as leverage, and pounced on Peter. He easily shook him off, spinning around to slam his back into the wall next to where we were still crouched.
A chunk of the molding snapped off, dust and drywall sprinkling down onto us. Stiles and I instantly scrambled away as fast as possible. He grabbed my hand tightly, our fingers weaving together as he hauled me to my feet. We nearly trampled over the nurse’s body, but stumbled back just in time to step around her.
Peter leaned down and gripped Derek by the throat before pulling him up off the tiled floor. He strode forward, pulling Derek along with him as he made his way down the hall toward us. Stiles and I stumbled backward with each quick step he took. 
My heart was pounding in my throat as I tried to get control over my breathing. Derek’s hands came up to claw at Peter’s arm as his legs kicked wildly, looking for any leverage to escape.  
“My mind, my personality, were literally burned out of me. I was acting on pure instinct.” He suddenly released his hand and Derek slammed to the floor with a pained groan. 
“You want forgiveness?” Derek roared, jumping to his feet and landing a hard punch to Peter’s jaw. 
He easily deflected his next attempt and headbutted Derek harshly. He stumbled back a few steps, and Peter used this to his advantage as he kicked him harshly in the chest. “I want understanding.”
Derek flew several feet in the air before crashing to the floor and sliding all the way down the hall until he lay crumpled at our feet. He pushed himself up onto his elbows and spit out a mouthful of blood. I suddenly realized we were back in the main waiting area, and pulled Stiles by his hand that was still entwined with mine. We kneeled down behind the desk as the two werewolves continued fighting in front of us.
“Do you have any idea what it was like for me during those years? Slowly healing, cell by cell, even more slowly coming back to consciousness.” Peter wandered his way forward slowly, menacingly. “Yes, becoming an alpha, taking that from Laura pushed me over a plateau in the healing process. I can’t help that.”
Derek rose to his feet and swung his arms wildly. It was obvious that Peter’s words had struck a cord in him. He easily blocked each punch before gripping Derek’s wrist tightly and effortlessly snapping the bone. He let out a pained roar and I flinched as the sound echoed through the room. 
“I tried to tell you what was happening. I tried to warn you.” Peter released Derek’s arm before fisting the sides of his leather jacket and throwing him over the desk. 
He smashed through the glass barrier, pointed shards raining down on us as he landed harshly on the floor beside our crouched position. Stiles spazzed out next to me, wrapping an arm around my shoulders frantically and tucking my head into his chest before leaning his body over mine. My chest swelled at the protective gesture. 
Heavy silence blanketed the room for a long moment. I let out a shaky breath, trying to stay as still as possible. Stiles shifted over me and I peeked around him to see what was going on. Derek started crawling away from us slowly, looking seriously injured.
“We have to do something.” I gasped, heart racing painfully in my chest. 
Stiles looked down at me with wide eyes, like I’d lost my mind. “Yeah. We’re getting the hell out of here.”
Before I could protest, he pulled me to my feet. Neither werewolf even spared us a glance as we bolted out the front doors. I didn’t want to leave Derek in there. It didn’t feel right. I wasn’t sure what I could do to help, but there had to be something. 
Stiles dragged me all the way to his Jeep and wrenched the passenger door open. I just stood there, frozen. 
“Y/N. Get in!” He yelled, his eyes wide with urgency. 
“He’s gonna die in there.” My voice quivered as I looked back toward the hospital.
Stiles tilted his head up to the sky in exasperation before looking at me with narrowed eyes. “He’ll be fine. He’s surprisingly hard to kill.”
He jerked his arm forward, gesturing for me to get in, and I chewed on my bottom lip nervously. I knew there was nothing I could do, but I wanted so badly to help. I stole one last glance at the building and let out a heavy sigh, sliding into the car begrudgingly. Stiles slammed the door closed behind me and ran around the hood before jumping into the driver’s seat. 
A moment later, he sped out of the parking lot. We didn’t say a single word the entire ride home. 
We’d been sitting here, in front of my house, for the last several minutes. Thick tension crackled in the air between us, but we were both too stubborn to be the first one to break. I sat there for a few more seconds, indecision clawing at my insides. I wasn't exactly jumping to talk to him, but part of me didn't want to leave him, either. 
Something about his presence was calming. Even as we sat here in tense silence, I knew it was better than being alone. But we couldn’t stay like this all night. With a dejected sigh, I reached for my seatbelt, but paused when he spoke up unexpectedly.
“You know, I’ve been trying my best to keep you out of this stuff.” His words were sharp as his fingers tightened around the steering wheel until his knuckles went white.
I turned toward him slowly, relaxing back into my seat. “I never asked you to do that.”
“Do you know how many times I’ve almost died in the last couple months?” His jaw clenched as his eyes swept in my direction. Their normal amber color had darkened as several intense emotions swirled inside them. Frustration, anger, worry. “Everyone who’s involved with the supernatural keeps almost dying. We aren’t going to stay this lucky.”
“Then let’s not rely on luck anymore. We can learn to take care of ourselves.” I insisted, leaning toward him slightly. 
I was tired of taking a backseat in all of this. Today, for the first time, I felt like I was truly a part of the team. Even though I had to go through Derek to get here, it was so much better than being kept in the dark. 
“I’m too busy worrying about you to take care of anything else.” His voice was barely above a whisper as his eyes flickered around my face before looking away.
I just stared at him in confusion. “Why would you worry about me?” 
Out of all the people in his life, I should be at the bottom of the list. Hell, I shouldn't even be on the list. 
“You’re joking, right? You keep showing up in places you shouldn’t be. You’re constantly almost getting hurt. You sleepwalk into the woods half the time and—and I’m terrified that one of these days I’m gonna be too late to help.” 
He rushed the words out, his eyes wide and intense. He was giving me this look, like I was the most important person in the world. My heart tugged uncomfortably in my chest and I swallowed. 
“I haven't even done that in—” My words caught in my throat at the way his head tilted incredulously and I sighed. “You don’t always have to be there, Stiles. You don’t always have to look after everyone else.” 
His eyes twitched and his lips rolled into a thin line. “You’re not gonna stay out of this, are you?”
I shook my head slowly. “I know I can help somehow. I can feel it. And if I know that, and don’t...then I don’t think I can call myself one of the good guys.”
Silence fell over the car again, but this time it wasn't awkward or tense. I studied the way the streetlights illuminated his freckled face. Shadows created hard lines around his jaw that contrasted the soft gaze of his eyes as they bored into mine. My stomach fluttered with a foreign emotion and I chewed on my bottom lip as I fidgeted in my seat, suddenly feeling nervous. Something had shifted in the air between us, but I couldn’t quite place it.
“Is it obvious yet how much I like you?” His gaze flickered down to my mouth quickly and my breath hitched at his words. 
“Painfully.” I felt myself leaning closer to him without actually meaning to. Yes, I was still mad at him, but right now that didn’t seem to matter so much. 
He met me halfway, our lips molding together instantly. My eyes slipped shut as one of his hands came up to gently tuck a few strands of hair behind my ear. His slender fingers wrapped around the side of my neck as his head tilted, his lips slanting over mine. My mouth parted against his and our tongues explored each other almost urgently. 
This wasn’t anything like the kisses we’d shared before. It was intense, and rushed, like we couldn’t close the distance between us fast enough. I could practically taste everything he felt for me, all the things he wanted to say but didn’t know how. Without breaking away, I blindly undid my seatbelt and fisted the sides of his jacket to pull him against me. 
One of his arms slid around my waist and my hands flattened against his chest before gliding up to rest on the sides of his head. His buzzed hair poked at my skin as he tugged me forward. I fumbled across the gearshift until I landed in his lap, my knees resting on either side of his hips. 
He hummed against my lips in satisfaction as his fingers tangled themselves in the hair at the back of my head. His other hand pressed me impossibly closer, and I arched up into him. He pulled away unexpectedly, and I felt my eyes flutter open to look at him in question. 
“Can—can I...?” He murmured breathlessly, his gaze flickering between my neck and eyes. I nodded a little too eagerly, but couldn’t find it within myself to feel embarrassed. 
He tilted his head down cautiously and I let out a shuddering sigh as his warm breath fanned my skin. My head fell back, a quiet whimper leaving me as he began peppering delicate kisses down my throat. 
A sudden, low whistle had my eyes popping open again. 
Stiles didn't seem to notice—or maybe he just didn't care—as his lips maintained their slow pace against me. I squinted into the darkness, my gaze almost immediately landing on Scott as he practically hung out of his bedroom window with a teasing grin. 
I pushed against Stiles’ chest with a breathy laugh. He groaned lowly in protest, but didn't put up a fight as he sagged back in his seat. His big eyes shined up at me with confusion and I jerked my head toward the houses. He looked over and scoffed in annoyance as he realized we had an audience, before his head slowly lulled back in my direction. 
“Goodnight, Stiles.” I couldn't control the smile tugging at my lips as I cupped his freckled cheeks and placed a gentle kiss just beside his mouth. 
I popped the door open and jumped down, straightening out my shirt with my palms. Stiles shut the door after me and leaned an elbow out the window before letting his chin rest on his forearm. He just stared at me with a small smile on his face, his eyes shining under the streetlights. My heart fluttered at his awe-struck expression and I forced myself to turn around. 
If I didn’t go now, I might never be able to walk away from him. 
“Night, Scott!” I called up to his room as I unlocked my front door. 
His muffled reply came just before I let the door close behind me. I sagged against it, a big grin slowly taking over my face. Being with Stiles had given me a chance to forget about all the crazy shit that happened today, if only for a few minutes.
I knew our problems were really just beginning. Yeah, we identified Peter as the alpha, but something told me being exposed wouldn’t faze him. He was clearly a deranged psychopath that wouldn’t stop until he got what he wanted. And what he wanted was a pack. I felt like we had a chance to fight back, though. Despite the challenges that were undoubtedly ahead, I was more confident than ever before. 
It finally felt like I had all the puzzle pieces. 
Episode 8                       Episode 10
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serendipityjxmn · 4 years
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I Hate You, Park Jimin!
Chapter 19
Words Count: 2.2k
TW: Slight smut mentions
Link to Chapter 18
Link to Chapter 20
“Think it would be nice if you called me first, Kim Taehyung.”
The other scoffed. “If I had to wait for you, she probably would’ve been completely harassed by that fucker.”
Jimin snarled but knew he couldn’t say anything against that. He knew Taehyung was trying to protect me.
“And it’s not like I’ve never touched the girls you left before...”
“Fuck off Kim Taehyung. Keep your hands off her. There won’t be anymore next time of this.”
“Whatever.”
I could hear the conversation but only faintly. But I was well aware of the heat embracing me. “Jimin...?” I called and I felt the grip tightening on my shoulder.
“Baby..?”
“I feel like throwing up.” All of my insides were burning and everything seemed desperate to escape my stomach.
“W-what?”
I didn’t know where I was but I knew that I vomited right then and there.
And then I lost consciousness again.
I was vaguely aware that I was in a car. Jimin’s hands warm around me. His familiar scent of cologne.. ah.. how could I be so stupid to think the stranger- now Kim Taehyung- was Jimin..?
Because my mind’s only filled with him..
I woke up again to the sound of someone punching in passcodes. The door unlocked with the familiar ring. My apartment..? Jimin brought me to my apartment...?
My eyes opened but the lights quickly blinded me so I shut them back instantly. Jimin carried me in his arms to my bedroom. I suddenly felt the urge to cry although obviously I was still not sober, at all.
“You’re so bad to me... you broke my heart..” I whispered and his footsteps halted. I felt my own cheeks getting wet. After a few moments of silence and him staring at my face (I think), he continued to carry me towards my bedroom. Then he gently placed me on his bed. Slowly, he shrugged my coat off my shoulder. Then he unwrapped the scarf on my neck. Wait- did he put the scarf on me?
He crouched down in front of me. Eyes searching for mine. “Baby.. let’s talk.”
I scoffed. I pushed him away before his hands could hold me. “Don’t.” I whispered.
He sighed. “You’re clearly still drunk. Fine then. Just- sleep.” He said and with that he exited my bedroom. I was pretty sure I cried to sleep that night.
I woke up groggily the next morning, feeling better than I should be although my head was still throbbing. Then I noticed a glass of empty water with some medicine over the bedside table. I sighed. Even when we’re like this.. he still took care of me.
I ate the medicine with a thousand thoughts running through my mind. And then suddenly I realized that I was no longer in the clothes I wore when I went to the club last night. I was in my pyjamas set of tank top and shorts. My hands instinctively went towards my chest- I gasped- no bra!
Jimin changed my clothes. But oddly, I was sure he didn’t touch me at all, apart from undressing and redressing me. At that, I somehow felt disappointed. Another level of twisted.
I shook my head. Taking a deep breath, I got up from my bed. I had a mission today- to fix whatever mistake I’ve made.
And so an hour later, I stood awkwardly in front of Jimin’s apartment, after repeatedly going back and forth in front of the door, contemplating my decision.
Biting my lips, I decided to muster as much courage as I could. Holding my breath as if that would make everything easier, I pressed the bell.
I waited. But no one answered.
Shit. Was no one home? Or was he home but refused to answer the door because he knew it was me?
The latter made my stomach knots uneasily. But somehow I was a tiny bit relieved if he wasn’t home at all.
I pressed the bell again and waited again.
When I seemingly decided that he wasn’t home, I turned to make my way back down and home and to escape this for another year before I could will myself to brace the problems again.
Except that I couldn’t.
I gasped and became completely frozen when I saw Jimin standing a few feet from me, having came from the elevator.
He only looked at me with some expression I couldn’t fathom. Then calmly he took strides forward and I held my breath.
“What are you doing here?”
I felt stupid for coming immediately. I should bolt at that instant yet I still stood rooted there. “I came to talk to you.” I said instead.
He scoffed. Not the reaction I wanted. “So now you wanna talk?” His voice slightly raised. Definitely not the reaction I wanted.
I felt my own blood boiling. “What does that supposed to mean? I’m the one who’s supposed to be mad here!” Literally... right?
“Yeah I know. I admit it’s my fault but when I tried to explain to you, you don’t think of giving me a second to explain myself, do you? And now you come to me saying you wanna talk?”
I flinched. I’ve never seen Jimin so angry with me..
His expression softened a bit. “Just.. go.”
My heart fell. Tears welled up in my eyes instantly. Jimin had never told me to go away before. What if he really changed his mind? What if he somehow realize that I’m not the one for him?
Jimin turned his back on me, ready to pull open his door. Without thinking, my hands slipped through his arms and hugged him hard from the back. My hands clenched into a fist against his chest. I fought my tears as I buried my head on his back. He stood frozen for a few moments before I felt his hands trying to pull my hands away from his chest.
I resisted. Instead I hugged him even harder and I began to sob. “I... miss you so much.. and I hate you for making me so miserable..”
Suddenly and very forcefully, he tore my hands away from him. Within seconds he had turned me around and pinned me against the door. I didn’t dare to look up at him as tears continued to roll down my face.
Then I felt his lips against mine. Warm, soft, enchanting, intoxicating and just everything. It felt as if his lips were made perfectly just for me.
I didn’t reply immediately because I was still crying but he kissed me so forcefully it took all my focus away.
Then he pulled back, his soft expression watching me. His thumb move towards my cheek, and gently he wiped the tears on my face. Wordlessly, he pulled me inside his apartment.
He made me sit on his sofa in the living room then. The fireplace warming both of us up. He sat down beside me, close enough but not too close to be touching me. It hurt. I longed to touch him. The silence made me feel restless.
“Don’t you think it’s hot?” He frowned when I stood up.
I paced back and forth in front of him.
“Baby sit down.”
I stilled at his endearment although I’ve heard it a thousand times from his mouth before. “I feel hot.” I tugged at the hem of my knitted shirt.
“Hana.” His body leaned forward and hand firmly clasped around my wrist, stopping whatever I was doing. “Just sit down, okay?”
I looked at him and then at his hands over my wrist. Weirdly, I just felt like throwing myself onto him and kiss the shit out of him.
So that’s what I did. Within seconds, I straddled him and I registered his surprised expression before I kissed him. My hands carded his hair immediately, persuading him to kiss me back.
“Hana, stop.” He said when he pulled away.
It suddenly occurred to me that he didn’t want me. He didn’t want me anymore.
“Why..?”
He shut his eyes, as if everything had been so difficult and painful for him.
My heart had never thumped so fast before. “You.. don’t want me?” I whispered.
“Me not wanting you? Fuck- Hana.” His voice came out low, almost like a growl. I flinched. “There was never a moment or a second that I don’t want you. I want you and every single inch of your body. There’s not a single part of you that I don’t want, you hear me?”
I sucked in a breath. “Then why-“
“As much as I want to kiss the fuck out of you too, you and I both know we need to talk. And I need a clear head to talk about this. So you are going to be a good girl and sit beside me while we talk this out. Okay?” I realized what he meant when I felt his hardening crotch underneath me, right against my sex. I feel blood rushing to my face.
“Oh. Okay.” I said and quickly unstraddled him to sit beside him. He watched me with a twinge of amusement on his face.
“Okay.” He said, mirroring me. Then his face turned serious. “What’s going on?”
I didn’t know where to start. There was a thousand thing running through my mind but I can’t seem to be able to put them properly into words.
Jimin seemed to know the war in my head. He always knew. “Why don’t we start with something simple?” He’s so psychic it’s creepy.
But it worked. I racked my brain for recollections of memories that happened these past few days. “Uh.. was it.. uh.. did it really happen last night.. um.. Taehyung?”
He made an annoyed face. “Yeah. I’ll deal with him later.”
What does that supposed to mean? I frowned.
“And you. You’re not drinking again.” He threw me an angry look.
I bit my lips. “Was it that.. bad?”
“Bad enough.” He rolled his eyes. He then leaned in, lips close enough to my cheeks I had to suck in a breath. “I swear I’m gonna kill the fucker that touched you.”
My brows knitted. “Someone touched me?”
He stilled then looked at me. “You don’t have to remember that. So now, let’s talk about our shit.”
“Our shit?” I giggled. It somehow sounded funny.
His lips quirked up in a smile. “Yes, our shit.”
I took a deep breath. The orbs of his eyes staring intently at me, ready to hear. “Someone.. told me.. that you’re in for an arranged marriage..” I whispered, looking away.
“Who the fuck told you that?” He snapped. Shit- not a good start.
I remained silent.
“If you won’t tell me I swear-“
“Jungkook.” I replied. “It was Jungkook who told me.”
“That fucker I swear-“
“Jimin-“ I cut him. “Is it... true...?”
He drew a sharp breath. Then he let out an exasperated sigh. “Yes.”
I stilled. Eyes turned to search his gaze immediately. “Then why didn’t you tell me..?”
“Because I fucking had no plan to get on with it!” He growled.
“But I still had the right to know!” I snapped at him.
He let out an exasperated sigh. “Yeah, I know. It’s my fault for not telling you. I’m sorry.. you weren’t even supposed to know about this.”
“Of course I would since you even went out on a date with her and there’s me stupidly waiting for your call.”
“It wasn’t like that!” He growled. Then with a softer tone, he continued. “She came to my house that day. And my dad forced me to take her to lunch. I can’t even stand being around her for two minutes so I left immediately. That’s all.”
I bit my lip guiltily. Of course Jimin didn’t cheat. I brought this upon myself. Suddenly I realized I was the problem.
“She’s a family friend.” He said while I was mentally debating with myself. “We knew each other since we were kids. Till she moved to U.S during high school. I had always known that our parents want us to marry each other. That’s kinda one of the reason why I’ve never really been technically involved with anyone. Till I met you.” His gaze was intense against mine.
I looked away after a few moments. I only had one thing in my mind. A decision to solve everything- the mess that we’re in now.
“Maybe... maybe you should go back to her.” I whispered.
“What?!” He sputtered and threw me an incredulous look.
I didn’t dare to look at him. “I’m never gonna be good enough for you.”
“What the fuck-?”
I stilled, still not daring to look at him.
“That’s it? You’re letting me go?” His voice raised slightly.
Before I could say anything, his lips were on mine. He kissed me so forcefully and deeply as if he was trying to tell me how frustrated he was at the situation- at me.
“Then tell me to stay! Fuck- Hana, is it so difficult for you to be honest to yourself for once?” He said before crashing his lips onto mine again, not giving me a chance to say anything. His kiss was urgent, persuasive. It wasn’t long till his tongue demanded entrance, exploring my mouth indefinitely.
“Do you really want me to go..?” he whispered as his lips moved to suck on my collarbone and desire spread in me like wildfire. I tried to stifle a moan. We were supposed to be talking! Not... this. His hands moved to touch me all over the place and I was already aching for him. For him to touch me the way I missed him to.
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The Haunting of Buffy Summers
Warning: I do not own the rights to the television show Buffy the Vampire Slayer, its spin-off series Angel, its dark horse comics continuation series, or any of the characters created by Joss Whedon and others in the Buffyverse. 15 years +, Mild to Strong Violence, Sexual References. F/F, F/M, M/M, Other + 
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PART ONE
It had been months since the passing of Buffy and Angel’s son Tristan and despite the relief over there being no sign of the shadow demon that was released at the time of Tristan’s death there was very little reason to celebrate for Buffy and co this Halloween as Buffy and Angel both mourned their child, Dawn grieved her nephew, Faith a friend, Willow an honoree nephew and Spike an strained ally. Yes, this Halloween nobody had celebration in mind, well almost nobody. “Xander, you absolutely cannot dress up my niece as a pumpkin!” Buffy told her best friend as she and Xander walked through a local cemetery within San Francisco. “With our luck with Halloween you’ll end up turning baby Joyce into an actual pumpkin.” Buffy had always called her niece baby Joyce instead of just Joyce, even though she was a young child now and no longer a baby she could never bring herself to just call her Joyce, perhaps because it was confirmation there was no other Joyce amongst the living anymore or perhaps it just brought up too much pain. Buffy thought about her mother everyday but more so since the death of her son, more than ever she wished for her mother to be there and somehow make everything okay not that she could even if she was still alive but still wishing was better than accepting the harsh reality of what her life had become. “Your niece wants to be a vampire of all things it is literally like she knows what we all get up to when we join her aunt Buffy for late night walks.” Xander admitted to her. “I for one don’t feel like having to stop my five-year-old from biting my neck because Halloween got too real again!” “Somehow I’d still prefer that over my niece potentially becoming somebody’s pumpkin pie despite how delicious pumpkin pie maybe.” Buffy replied to her best friend. “You should come over for Halloween might be nice spending it with family,” Xander suggested. “Especially after everything…” “Nah, maybe next year this year I really do not feel like getting caught up with Halloween.” Buffy responded, making it clear she wanted to be alone. “Do not get me wrong if some wacky stuff starts happening text me but otherwise it is me, my couch and some good old-fashioned movie watching.” Before Xander could reply to Buffy’s rejection of his invitation to spend Halloween with him, Dawn and baby Joyce Buffy stopped walking, becoming frozen within the spot she stood in, forcing Xander to stop walking, clearly concerned for the slayer as the slayer turned to her side to notice her son Tristan’s grave, her eyes going straight towards his tombstone. “I cannot believe I almost walked past it!” Buffy told Xander, the hurt of seeing her son’s grave clearly all over her face. “Burying dust is kind of weird when you think of it, I mean he was technically already supernaturally cremated…but it sure is nice to be able to see him every night…just wish I did not have to wait for his death before I could be this close to him.” “Maybe you should start skipping this cemetery?” Xander suggested as he put his arm around Buffy and side hugged her tightly. “Willow and I could patrol this cemetery, so you do not have to be here all the time.” “Thanks for the offer Xander but I cannot leave him again, I have already left him too many times before.” Buffy replied as tears began forming in her eyes. “Even if he does not know it, I do not ever want him to think I’m gone.”
The very next morning, the morning of all hallows eve certainly proved to live up to it’s spooky legacy for Buffy as she awoke from her bed, climbed out of it, stood up and walked over to her nearby dresser where she sat down in front of the mirror, picked up and brush and began combing her luxurious long blonde hair. “Happy Halloween,” Buffy mumbled to herself as she continued brushing her hair before she suddenly heard the roaring noise of the television coming from the living room of the apartment she shared with Willow. Buffy stood up from her dresser chair, charged towards her bedroom door, opening it with force before running straight into the living room where the deafening noise of the television continued to grow louder as she desperately search for the television remote within the corners and sides of the nearby couch. The noise was not only heard by the slayer as she quickly discovered when Willow rushed out of her room chanting loudly in a long dead language before waving her hand and suddenly the noise was gone. “Hey Buffy love you and everything but the next time you try deafening me in the morning I may have to turn you back into a rat.” Willow joked with her, only to be left shocked by a stunned Buffy who stared blankly towards the television. “Buffy, I was only joking about the rat thing.” Willow glanced over to the television to see what Buffy was staring at only for her to be left shocked to see the television was switched off. “Do not tell me we are haunted again,” Willow complained to Buffy. “Here is hoping it is something you killed this time and not me!” “I think it was Tristan,” Buffy admitted to her redheaded best friend. “I was at his grave last night he is clearly trying to contact me.” “Buffy, you are at his grave every night I doubt he’s decided to make contact for the first time on Halloween.” Willow told her as she began walking towards Buffy. “I’d love it for him to be able to say goodbye to you but you and I both know it’s probably some pissed off spirit or something else.” “Yeah I know,” Buffy sighed as she sat down on the couch. “It is just the shadow demon is out there somewhere whose to say Tristan is not?” “We have been through this before sweetie, Tristan’s at peace and maybe that’s the best place for him to be.” Willow replied as she sat down on the couch, sitting next to Buffy. “I do not think he’s anywhere bad I think he’s finally at peace and I think that is something he wanted for a really long time.” “Your right it is probably just some new Halloween horror that I am going to have to kill or whatever it is that we call getting rid of a ghost...” Buffy responded, trying and failing to sound any less sad than she was. “Or we could call ghostbusters and I can go back to bed?” “There’s a powerful psychic that I tend to go to from time to time when I feel the need to hear something from the other side her name is Madame Majestic and she is really good I’ll go see her and see if it is spirit related before we hit the books for alternatives.” Willow revealed to her best friend, eager to take some responsibility off the struggling slayer. “Here’s me thinking all those mystic megs and Madame magics were all phonies.” Buffy admitted before standing up from the couch. “Drop me her address and I’ll go see what Madame Majestic has to say about haunted televisions.” “I could go for you…you know…in case you get hurt when you realize it is not Tristan.” Willow suggested as she stood up to face her friend. “This seems like more like a case for a witch than a slayer maybe you should just go back to bed and let me handle this.” “I’m fine with going Willow to be honest I would rather stay busy and I think I want to handle this one alone for now…you know until witch assistance is needed.” Buffy told her, reassuring the witch that she would be fine going solo. “Okay…I could go with you though? Maybe even get Xander to tag along like the old days just us three?” Willow offered, worried to leave the slayer alone, knowing how much Buffy had been struggling following the death of her son. “I kind of just want to be alone!” Buffy admitted, feeling guilty for pushing away her friend but needing the time to herself.
Buffy walked down one of the many back alleyways within San Francisco in search of Madame Majestic’s headquarters eager to find out what caused the television annoyance earlier that day, convinced it was the spirit of her late son despite her friend Willow telling her otherwise but not wanting to get her hopes up at the same time in case Willow was right. Buffy stopped at a door painted a bright baby blue before noticing the writing “Come on in, I’m waiting” written on the window next to the door. “Well here goes nothing!” She mumbled to herself as she started knocking on the door only to be met by no answer. She waited at the door longer than she would wait at most doors that people did not answer because she believed her best friend would never steer her wrong and after several minutes the bright blue door suddenly opened by itself, alarming Buffy at first by a tell tale sign off what may await her when she walked into Madame Majestic’s. Although that worry never stopped Buffy as she knew deep down whatever was haunting her this Halloween would find her again one way or another and therefore, she was ready to find it first. “You must be Buffy Summers you have many fans on the other side and even more enemies.” Madame Majestic greeted Buffy, as Buffy walked into a darkly lit room to find Madame Majestic dressed up like a stereotypical gypsy styled psychic, sitting at a table with a clear crystal ball. “You got to be kidding me! This is right out a horror movie well a B horror movie although every horror movie is a B when your life is an A horror.” Buffy complained to the psychic as she walked over to the table and sat down on a seat opposite her. “I am very aware of your chosen destiny Miss Summers just as much as you are aware of a spirit haunting you,” The psychic replied to the slayer. “You are confused by the spirits identity and even more so confused that they have chosen Halloween of all times to contact you but you should not be frustrated with this spirit as Halloween hauntings are very common. It is after all when the veil between the living and the dead is at its weakest.” “I think I’ve heard that before never thought much of it till now. Is this spirit…. evil?” Buffy wondered, unable to ask if it were her son, fearing Madame Majestic would say no. “The lines between evil and good are blurred with many especially with your son but no he is not trying to harm you in fact he needs your help.” Madame Majestic revealed to the slayer who was shocked to learn she really was being haunted by Tristan. “Of course, I’ll help him!” Buffy declared to her. “I will do anything to help him…how can I help him?” Buffy was unsure whether or not she believed this psychic’s words not because she did not trust Willow’s recommendation but because she did not want to get her hopes up like she had so many times before when it came to Tristan but she knew she had to do whatever the psychic told her to do in order to potentially speak with her son once more and help him in any way she could.
After a short but seemingly long to her kind of day, Buffy Summers was now laid on her fully made bed within her bedroom in her San Francisco apartment, her eyes closed while she was deep in thought. She had been giving some herbs that was put in a tea that she had drank before going to her room after Willow ensured her what she was taking was not some hippie thing that’d make her go on some bad drug fueled trip. She just lay there with her eyes tightly shut, thinking of the son she lost, not daring to open her eyes or move in anyway, knowing that if she did before it was time then the psychic’s potion would not work. She laid there for what felt like forever until she almost found herself falling asleep when suddenly she was now stood next to the bed looking dazed and confused as she looked down at her own body, stunned that there was now two of her as she realized she was having some kind of magical out of body existence. “You know it is a whole lot spookier on this plane when you have a body to look at in the living realm.” Tristan declared, as Buffy turned around to see her son stood in front of her with a smile on his face. “Tristan…” Buffy replied softly, as she began to smile at the sight of her son, a sight she believed she may never have seen again. “It is nice to see you to mum!” Tristan said to her, shocking Buffy by calling her mum for the first genuine time. “But I am afraid to say this is not going to be a happy family reunion!”
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bonnieisaway · 5 years
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a dying garden
spoilers. for the end of my oc x canon fic.
Yua can’t see anymore.
Buttercup blooms have covered her eyes as they came with the season, then they took her arms, and ran down her neck, and her back, and anywhere else imaginable.
Yua can’t feel a lot of things anymore.
Of course, as it comes, when your body is consumed with flowers blooming across your skin, certain senses are lost. Yua knows she’s sitting criss cross in the clearing in the woods, next to the riverbank, because she can hear the soft flow of the river. She knows Kusuo is next to her, because she can hear his soft breathing, and somewhere inside her she can imagine the summer breeze tangling his hair. 
But Yua can’t speak anymore. 
This isn’t a problem for Kusuo, who can hear her thoughts, and can efficiently communicate that way. But the flowers and vines are consuming her airway, and breathing is starting to hurt. Yua knows that even now- even if she did hate Kusuo, even if Kusuo did love her, there would be nothing to be done. The problem was, Kusuo did in fact love her.  
And Kusuo can see. He can feel. And he knows when Yua gets tired and lies her head on his shoulder, her breathing slow. And he hates that he can feel- both emotionally and literally, because he knows he feels love for this girl he once saw as annoying, and he knows what’s going to happen soon is going to hurt. And Kusuo had never been hurt before.  
Yua doesn’t move her lips, for the motion would tug vines and hurt, but her thoughts are unbound. ‘Kusuo.. I’m tired..’ Her thoughts sleepily drawl as she sighs, and she finds herself lying in Kusuo’s lap.  
He doesn’t know how to describe the pain in his chest, how his soul aches as her hair sprawls across his lap, buttercups that have fallen off stuck in her hair, as she looks up towards the sky hopelessly. He knows that she knows what is happening, and all he knows how to say is a simple, hesitant, “Please don’t fall asleep.” 
‘But..’ Yua hesitates. If her eyes could open, they wouldn’t stay open. She’s so..tired. She hurts so much. She feels her breathing slow, too slow to keep her heart going. Her heart is constricted and strained by vines and blooms, and she knows this. Kusuo knows, too. And he feels his eyes water strangely as her chest rises less and less with every breath. 
“Don’t fall asleep, Yua.” He croaks, and he’s hesitant, but he’d rather put his pride away than never tell Yua, “I love you.”  
Yua grins sleepily. She wishes she could see his mouth moving, because for some reason, his voice sounded oh so much sweeter and a bit more smoother when he spoke out loud- when he said her name. She can't feel the texture of the sweater she wore that was his, or the exact feeling as he begins to cradle her towards his chest, but she knows it’s happening.  
“I love you too.” She grins, knowing that, in some part of her heart, that’s all she’s ever wanted to tell him. Some of her wants to tell him why, every single bit that made her heart skip a beat, and why she’d spent sleepless nights with him in mind, but she knows she doesn’t have the words nor time. 
Kusuo stares down at Yua helplessly. He wants to tell her why- every reason why this hurts, every reason why she’s beautiful, and more than she’s ever thought of herself, but the poor girl is fading, and he’s trying to think of some way to help her as he and Aiura had been doing for so long. He feels himself shake and his breath hitch as tears cloud his vision and fall, watering the buttercups that stole his love’s vision. That stole her body. 
That stole her.  
Her breathing is slower, and slower, and slower, and Yua feels her world get darker than it already was, and she can’t feel the numb sensation of Kusuo’s hands holding her anymore, and the river and his now shaky breathing sound distant. And Kusuo starts to panic, because damn it, it wasn’t time for Yua, a poor seventeen year old who’s dying because she dared to fall in love, to leave. He was a psychic, an all powerful one, who prided himself on being able to do almost anything. 
As he watches her chest stop rising and falling, and in the back of his brain he could vividly see her ocean blue eyes turn dull and gray, he could also see the buttercups in front of him that clouded her beautiful face. The persistent flush across her face leaves, and for the first time Kusuo sees her pale. 
She’s dead.   
He shakes, and he cries, and he wishes he had his glasses on because if they were on, there wouldn’t be as many tears falling and hitting her face. And he wishes he had something he could do, but there wasn’t anything his powers could do. This was no longer in the realm of his powers. This was something Tortisuka would be able to handle, maybe, if he ever got a grip and took his powers seriously.
But Yua was not Tortisuka’s girl. 
He holds her closer, and his eyes hurt from rubbing them against his arm to try and stop his tears, and his hands feel cold from holding her. His chest hurts and his entire body shakes like an earthquake tremor with every sob. He knows it does nothing but he’s so desperate for her to come back he tries desperately to rewind time, casting aside the knowledge that this power did not bring people back to life. Praying to every god he’d ever heard of to have mercy and give her back.  
The flowers lose their golden color and seem to wilt as Kusuo tries so desperately to reverse time’s toll on her, and for a second, it appears that the flowers stop. The flowers themselves are not dead. The flowers breathe life and love and emotions Kusuo had never felt nor knew how to describe. 
And the emotions keep coming as the flowers continue to appear once in their prime bloom of April, despite it being late August. And one thing he can decipher is confusion as the flowers rewind, but there’s something else he can’t figure out. 
He doesn’t know how to describe the words, how he feels. 
When Yua’s breath hitches suddenly. 
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elialys · 5 years
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Tentoo x Rose - Homecoming
I completed ‘Calluses’ (what I call my tentoo x rose ‘origin story’) a couple weeks back, already knowing back then that I would write more about these two because I’m having a lot of feels. Actually, most of this was written probably about 12 hours after I finished Calluses. It also happens to take place probably about 6 hours after the end of Calluses. Even though I’n not planning for this series of stories to be necessarily linear but oh well. 
I don’t think it’s necessary for you to have read Calluses to understand this, it’s mostly fluff and smut, but I’ll still encourage you to read the other one first, as it gives more depth to these scenes.
This is dedicated to my own metacrisis Laura (@spazmatazz) who literally gave me the idea for the first half of this fic. The smutty half is all from my brain. You can read this story on [AO3].
(I’m cautiously tagging @doctorroseprompts, because I think this fits with the prompt of new beginnings? I’ve never done this before so let me know if I’m doing it wrong!)
...
HOMECOMING
By the time they make it to her flat, they’re both getting a bit cranky.
Although the flight itself was only a couple hours long, many more hours have passed since they left that hotel in Norway. Lost as they’d been in their little bubble, they’d failed to realise they were coming back at the tail end of an extended weekend…which meant bigger crowds, longer waiting times, and unforeseen flight delays that snowballed into more waiting times as the day progressed.
They sat in that plane for a good hour and a half before it was allowed to take off. Once they touched down at Heathrow, they had to wait another forty-five minutes before being let out of the plane.
Through this whole ordeal, they happened to be seated right across the aisle from a single mother with two extremely unhappy young children.
The Doctor, while initially patient, stopped smiling around Hour Three of their endless commute out of Norway. When he started responding to her in mere grunts instead of actual sentences, Rose stopped trying altogether.
(All that without mentioning the half-an-hour wait to retrieve the damn suitcase, or the fact that they decided to brave the London underground for another forty minutes after they spotted the long taxi queue outside the airport.)
Hence them being a bit cranky by the time they make it to her place, something they’re both trying to conceal from the other with tensed smiles every time they make eye contact, when really, there is no denying how abysmal this has been. Rose is not feeling any better when she lets them inside at last.
Her flat, although decent, is neither big nor homey.
It’s small because that’s all she could afford in London on her Torchwood salary. She knows all she’d have to do is ask to be given a ridiculous amount of money by her ridiculously rich parents, but she’s been determined to be as independent as possible ever since she realised she was going to be stuck here for longer than she thought.
The lack of homey feel is due exclusively to the fact that she’s spent little to no time actually living here in the three-and-half years since she’s moved in. She hadn’t lied to him when she’d said most of her life in this universe had been spent trying to leave it. The place possesses the bare necessities, but little else.
No hint of personal taste, not much in term of comfort, and not a single photograph to be found anywhere.
Rose did not exactly plan on offering him a thorough tour once they arrived, reluctant to let him see how empty she’d let her life become, but she did assume they’d have to go through the basics– here’s the kitchen, here’s the bathroom, here’s the bedroom.
As it turns out, they don’t make it passed the entrance hall – not initially. The moment she turns on the light and his eyes take in her small living room, she knows he won’t need to see much more to make the right connections. His expression, which has been furrowed for the last two hours, somehow becomes graver. When he turns his head and looks down at her, she forces herself not to avert her eyes.
She opens her mouth to say something, defend her lack of a private life, but she can’t come up with  a good lie. Not that she wants to lie to him. She closes her mouth, eventually giving a vague shrug of her shoulder, her cheeks warming up as she drops her eyes to his chest.
She feels his palm upon her flushed cheek, his touch tender yet insistent, the way it always seems to be, pressing to tilt her head up towards him. She follows the movement, leaning against him as he brings his face down to hers, his second hand already coming up and disappearing in her hair.
The moment she lets herself melt into his kiss, she almost feels the tension trickling out of her; judging by the long sigh he soon lets out against her lips, he’s starting to relax a little, too, soon pressing his nose into that small hollow between her jaw and ear.
“Can we agree not to do that again?” He asks in a pained tone, his voice low and warm…so warm against her skin.
She lets out a soundless chuckle, that exhale sounding more tired than she anticipated; now that she’s relaxing, she’s starting to feel the strain of their journey – not just the last six hours of it. They haven’t exactly been sleeping that much these past few days.
“No more kissing?” She cannot help but ask, a teasing note in her tired voice. He answers by gently biting down on the sensitive skin of her neck, and she almost purrs, her toes curling in her shoes as her fingers curl in his hair. “Fine, no more planes for now. ‘t was rather terrible.”
“Mmm…” he hums against her pulsing point. “Your ruthless No-Touching policy did not help either. It would have made that fourth hour so much more bearable.”
She smiles lazily, eyes still closed, comforted by the sound of his voice and the feel of his breath, trailing down her neck. “I might’ve to reconsider things a little…” she breathes out sleepily.
She doesn’t immediately notice that he’s stopped the slow decent upon her neck, too warm and relaxed now to mind this small change.
“Rose?”
She reopens her eyes; she’s a lot more slumped against him than she remembers being, having apparently started to…doze off, too. She blinks up at him, forcing her gaze to refocus. “Sorry. You were sayin’?”
He’s scowling a little, but there is genuine tenderness in his gaze. “Not much. Conversation wasn’t exactly on my mind.” His hand is back on her cheek, his thumb trailing her skin. “To be honest, what I do have in mind would be a lot more fun with you awake.”
“I am awake,” she protests just as her body betrays her, letting out a long yawn.
She doesn’t resist when he pulls her to him, letting herself rest heavily against his chest; she buries her whole face into his jumper, drowning her lungs with the smell of him.
“Bedroom?” he whispers in her ear, and she reluctantly unwraps an arm from around him to wave a hand in the general direction of her room.
He’s moving, then, and she has no other choice but to follow, still heavily leaning against him as they make their way through her small flat, stirring them in the right direction. By the time they reach her room, the big of her sleepiness has passed.
“I’m gonna wash up a little,” she tells him, her chin on his shoulder. “Should wake me up enough for whatever you feel like doing.”
“I’ve never felt more seduced,” he replies, pressing a small kiss to the tip of her nose, and she offers him half a grin, her tongue briefly poking between her teeth.
She escapes his warmth as one would tear off a bandaid – swiftly, and in one go, stepping away from him and walking to the bathroom’s door. When she turns to look at him, he’s already sat down on her bed, looking up at her with tired, miserable eyes.
“Two minutes top,” she promises with a small shake of her head and an amused smile. “Make yourself comfortable,” she wriggles an eyebrow at him, well aware that in his vocabulary, it probably means his clothes are not going to stay on for long.
She’s quick to wash up, a little more than two minutes, a little less than five. She becomes so lost in her thoughts as she changes into her sleeping attire, already thinking about everything they’ll have to do in the upcoming days, that she doesn’t realise how…quiet it is until she’s about ready to leave the bathroom. A ridiculous amount of scenarios pop into her head, wondering what he might be up to out there; somehow, the thought that he might have simply fallen asleep does not even cross her mind.
And yet...
Lying in the middle of her queen bed in some weird, inexplicable angle, half on his side, half on his stomach, the Doctor is fast asleep.
Rose spends an indefinite amount of time watching him, her temple pressed to the doorjamb, before she forces herself to move. He’s surprisingly not naked, only having managed to take off his shoes and the one sock, before he’d succumbed to that ruthless wave of exhaustion that had hit her, back in the entrance hall.
She moves swiftly and quietly, pulling the curtains closed first, before focusing on him. She gently extracts his glasses from the front of his jumper, digging into both his back pockets to extract his screwdriver and psychic paper. She spends some time sitting at the edge of her bed, after that, slowly running her fingers through his thick hair, allowing herself a minute (or five) to feel overwhelmed with incredulity and gratitude at her current situation. As always, it is a bittersweet emotion, never quite able not to think about her other Doctor, and the sacrifice he had to make.
Rose doesn’t allow herself to wallow; not anymore, and definitely not right now. She sets upon joining him onto the bed instead, which is easier said than done.
She find herself thanking all her years of gymnastic as she wriggles her way into his arms, unwilling to wake him up from his slumber, just as reluctant to try sleeping out of his embrace. After some trials and errors, and a few unavoidable shifts of his limbs, she’s managed to slip between his arms, her back to his chest. When she gives one last wriggle of her hips to bring their bodies closer, he startles awake behind her. He tenses for a moment, his inhale loud and somewhat panicked.
It doesn’t last.
As soon as he realises where he is, and with whom, his entire body relaxes behind hers, and he breathes out long and deep against her nape. When he moves, she moves with him, allowing him to wrap himself more securely around her.
One of his legs come across hers and he pulls her to him, finding her fingers and intertwining them close to her heart. He nestles his face into the curve between her shoulder and neck, his nose briefly nuzzling her skin, before he settles down, his warm exhales already lulling her to sleep.
Rose is first stirred from deep sleep when his entire body tightens around hers and he gulps for air again.
She awakes to the sensation of his arms squeezing her firmly to him, her back pinned to his chest, their joined hands now pressed tightly to her sternum, nearly to the point of discomfort. She doesn’t move, letting him take comfort in the feel of her, more pained by his loud, quivery breaths against her neck and what might be causing his distress than she is by his too-strong hold.
When she does move, eventually, freeing her hand from his grip, she reaches behind her, weaving her fingers through his slightly damp hair, her touch slow, and soothing. Her caress helps him calm down, his inhales and exhales  deepening as seconds, then minutes pass.
His hold on her begins to relax, too…until she changes the way her fingers move, using her nails rather than the pad of her fingers to graze his scalp. The Doctor shudders strongly against her back, his entire frame instantly tightening again.
She doesn’t remain motionless, this time, opposing some resistance to his hold, needing to face him, to reach more of him. He quickly picks up on her cues, letting her turn in his arms; he remains as compliant when she continues to push, until he’s rolling onto his back, and she comes to straddle his hips, half-leaning over him, both forearms upon his chest.
Their eyes meet in the bluish light of a fast approaching dawn, and she sees in his gaze a reflection of all these emotions she feels, bubbling so close to the surface. Lust, although present, is not what dominates in his eyes.
“You all right?” She murmurs, her nails gently scratching his few days old beard.
He swallows hard, but gives a small nod of his head, before both his hands come up to her face, tenderly clearing it off, pushing back messy strands of hair. His fingers remain buried in it as he gently pulls her down, until her forehead comes to rest upon his, and she shifts slightly upon him, her own fingers curling in his hair. The first meeting of their lips is soft, and loving.
It doesn’t remain that way for long.
His hands come down, both his arms encircling her to press her more securely to him even as Rose begins to move, prompting a reciprocal rolling of their hips. It slowly gains in momentum, until she’s swallowing his moan, his fingertips digging into her sides.
When she straightens up a little, his fingers release her to grab the hem of her shirt; she raises her arms, wordlessly encouraging him, and he swiftly pulls the garment over her head. Having already discarded of her trousers and bra before she’d wiggled her way into his arms, the removal of her shirt leaves her in nothing more than her underpants, while he remains fully dressed beneath her.
She almost speaks again, half-tempted to tease him about his terrible state of non-nakedness…until she gets caught in his gaze. His eyes have completed a swift, appreciative overview of the sight offered to him, and somehow, entrapped in the heat of his gaze, the desire to banter with him dissipates entirely.
She craves the feel of his hands on her instead, longs to feel his breath upon her flushed skin.
It must have shown, because he’s pulling himself up, then, his face soon pressed between her breasts, both his palms and all ten of his fingers splayed upon her thighs, digging once more into muscles and flesh. She buries her fingers and nose into his hair, keeping him close to her as her head swims with his intoxicating scent and the sheer feel of him, as entranced by his silent intensity as she was on their first night together.
His hands move over her backside, sliding beneath the fabric of her underpants, squeezing to bring her flush against him as his tongue and lips move, too, capturing her nipple into wet heat, eliciting hot sparks of pleasure that shoot down and pool deep within. She ripples into him as a low moan escapes her; although quiet, the sound seems loud in the otherwise silent room.
It spurs him on, his mouth briefly releasing her to graze his prickly cheek across the oversensitive skin of her chest, before giving all of his attention to her other breast. Even as she sinks deeper into the feel of him, already slave to that throbbing need within her, Rose becomes increasingly aware of the roughness of his clothes against her skin, longing to feel him, all of him.
The Doctor could have happily spent the next hour or two carrying on doing what he’s doing, enjoying this quite a bit, especially the fact that Rose is more than responsive to it. He’s forced to stop rather abruptly when she grabs both his shirt and jumper and forcefully drags them upward, soon pulling them over his head with unmistakable impatience.
A shift has occurred in her, changing their slow, lazy build-up into something more urgent.
He shudders almost violently as the cool air meets his flushed skin, every inch of it now covered in goose bumps. The chill doesn’t last long, as Rose swiftly wraps her arms around his neck and kisses him with a fervour that would be quite enough to chase the cold away on its own. She does much more than that, though, pinning herself to him as she deepens the kiss, seeking him, and he groans at the soft feel of her breasts, pressed so tightly against him. His jeans have become uncomfortably constricted, almost to the point of pain; that ache regularly fades, his every nerve prickling with hot pleasure every time she rolls into him.
When even that delicious friction isn’t enough to lessen his discomfort anymore, he tightens his hold on her hips in a silent request, hissing softly against her lips. She stops her movements, pulling away to look at him. Still, they don’t speak, Rose reading everything she needs to know in his eyes and the constricted look on his face. She pushes lightly on his chest, until he lets himself fall back upon the mattress.
She frees him of his jeans and boxer wonderfully fast, with barely any help from him at all, discarding of her last piece of clothing just as swiftly, so that the next time she slithers upon him, there is nothing between them but flesh and skin and heated air. Their bodies come together in yearning, their kissing somewhat frantic, now. She’s everywhere and everything, soft, hot, supple, and all his, all because of him, his fingers between her legs drawing long notes out of her that echo through the night as she shivers and burns against him, so that when she guides him inside of her, the sound they both let out resemble a sigh more than a moan.
She clings to him so tightly, keeping him pressed to the bed with her entire body as she moves, creating exactly the kind of friction she needs, judging by her raspy moans or the way her nails sink into his scalp. He lets her set the pace, swift, deep, and steady, content to let her carry him forth – unable to do much else to be quite honest.
The mere feel of her, surrounding him so completely, is enough to send him spiralling up and up and up with each strong sway of her body upon his, each meeting of their hips, pinning her tighter to him with his palms on her lower back to increase that pressure she’s chasing so desperately, her breath scorching hot upon his parted lips.
She comes faster than neither of them anticipated, gasping his name as she does so, before the sound dissolves into a long moan, her every muscle pulsating around him, clinging onto him with so much force that he might have felt pain…hadn’t he been caught up in her wave, her rushing pleasure triggering his own.
The Doctor keeps her close, afterwards, none of them moving much at all, her body deliciously heavy upon his, her face upon his face, his fingertips tracing symbols into the curve of her cooling back. When she does move, eventually, she brings her face to his neck, pressing a soft, lingering kiss upon his pulsing point, before breathing him in, slowly, deeply, until he’s humming his contentment, the sound reverberating through her.
She’s moving again, then, her breath so close to his ear, causing a familiar shiver to run down the length of his body.
“Welcome home,” Rose murmurs.
His laughter is soft, and low, and a little bit choked up, tightening his hold on her as he shifts, just enough for his lips to brush her forehead.
“Welcome home,” the Doctor reciprocates upon her skin, having forced the quiet words passed the lump in his throat.
They don’t speak at all, after that.
They really don’t need to.
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crewhonk · 7 years
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turmoil (i)
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might be a series if it gets well recieved? it’s an established relationship type thing, and it’s very much about YN and Steve dealing with their morals and their relationship. 
words: 3,900
an: this is a pretty slow chapter, mainly setting out the mood for the rest of it i guess? yn is an elementalw healing abilities
warnings: angst, swearing, death (civilian death)
When you walked into the kitchen in your shorts and one of Steve’s hoodies, you only expected to see a clean French press and a hot mug with your name on it. You didn’t expect to see the Secretary of Defence leaning against your counter in a three-piece Tom Ford Suit making small talk with Tony Stark. You froze in the doorway, and when Tony looked over at you and snorted at your appearance, you ducked around the corner to avoid the gaze of the Secretary.
You were running down the hall towards your and Steve’s bedroom when you almost ran into Vision using a door to walk towards the kitchen. You hit the Aliens chest as you failed to stop yourself in time and sacked your nose on his hard collarbone, making you bleed almost instantly.
“Oh my, I’m very sorry Miss Y/N. I would have stopped if I had heard you coming, but I was a bit preoccupied with conversation.” He explained, hovering slightly off of the ground and producing a handkerchief for you to staunch the flowing blood.
“Shit, It’s okay, Vis. You know— you should do some research on some classic Sarkovian foods— I’m sure Wanda would appreciate the effort.” You smiled up at him deviously and raised your eyebrows when he pointedly avoided eye contact with you. “I may not be psychic like one Scarlette Witch but I’m not oblivious.” You winked and handed him back the bloody cloth as your nose clicked itself into place and the blood stopped.
You poked your head into Wanda’s room and saw Steve in there with his arm wrapped tightly around Wanda’s shaking figure. She had always been the most nervous Avenger, and you knew that since the ‘Age of Ultron” (Tony liked to title their conquests) all she wanted to do was to right her wrongs. Her shaking (you assumed) was from the recent event in Lagos. It had been her first large mission, and she had been a part of a borderline 9/11 attack in the foreign city. You didn’t blame her, nor did you blame any of the Avengers, there was no way to avoid the deaths, but to have something like this take place on her first mission was near-traumatic.
“Hey.” You crooned softly, walking in and kneeling in front of the girl. She was only a few years younger than you, and you often found yourself curled up beside her while Steve was away and watching some dumb Netflix cartoon. She looked down at you from her place on Steve’s shoulder and shot a weak smile at you. “If it makes you feel better, I just ran into Mr. Seceratary in this,” you gestured to your outfit and she blew out an amused breath from her nose. “And I ran into Vision as he was leaving— literally broke my nose on his chest.” You laughed, reaching up to wipe a tear from her cheekbone.
“We all make mistakes— it’s how we learn from them that makes us who we are. For example, I’ll be more careful around hallways Vision may be near and I’ll change before I leave my bedroom.” You whispered. You felt the warmth of Steve’s gaze on your face and you patted his knee softly before getting up and leaving to change into something more comfortable.
This was going to be a shit show.
“Five years ago, I had a heart attack.” The Secretary began. He raised his hands behind his head as if he was golfing and looked up at everyone sitting around the dining room table. You were playing with the water in your glass subtly enough that he wouldn’t notice, but by the disapproving glares you were getting from Steve you assumed it was distracting him and stopped. “I dropped right int he middle of my backswing.” He brought his hands down. “Turns out it was the best round of my life because after thirteen hours of surgery and a triple bypass I found something that forty years in the army never taught me.” His gaze flicked quickly toward Wanda and you straightened up to attempt to block his vision of her. “Perspective.”
“The world owes the Avengers an unpayable debt. You have fought for us, protected us and risked your lives. And while many call you heroes, there are some who would prefer to use the word, vigilantes.” He sighed. You saw the weight that was resting on his shoulders and you rolled your eyes. Vigilantes. Sure.
“And what word would you use to describe us, Mr. Secretary?” Natasha asked as she leaned back in her chair and shot him an easy grin. His eyes flashed open at her question and he looked at her.
“How about dangerous. What would you call a group of US-based Enhanced individuals who routinely ignore sovereign borders and inflict their will wherever they choose and who, frankly, seem unconcerned with that they leave behind.” You and Wanda flinched at the way he said ‘Enhanced’— as if it were a swear word and you ignored the concerned look directed at the both of you from Steve. You hadn’t chosen to be born like this, so why was every mutated human grouped under the same label.
The secretary stepped aside and allowed for a hologram map of the world. There were five or so golden dots around the world and your eyes narrowed in suspicion when the first one that opened was the original attack in 2012 on New York City. It showed various shots of the Hulk and Aliens tearing through buildings and making the debris fall on the streets— killing and wounding many civilians who were running for cover. You saw Rhodey close his eyes when the camera cut out. Ten thousand people had died that day.
“Washinton D.C.” The screen switched to the sight of a Helicarrier plunging into one of the lakes and reigning fire down upon the old headquarters of SHEILD. The end of the ship fell on the building and your eyelids fluttered as it came crashing down. Three thousand people died that day, and as the video once again cut out, you saw Sam and Steve scratch the back of their necks in discomfort.
“Sokovia.” The floating island had taken up the screen now, and you felt Wanda tense behind you. Bringing up that trauma unexpectedly had been a cold move, and you felt that hairs on the back of your neck stand up and bristle with rage at the guts he had. Tony’s fists clenched as he watched a building crash down to the ground and when they had shown you struggling to keep the rock afloat with your elemental powers, your eyes filled up with tears. You were just a civilian then, trying to work your way up in the United Nations by volunteering for Women’s Rights in second world countries. When the city began floating, however, you were unable to save as many people as you could have if you had embraced your powers earlier in your life rather than stuffing them down and trying to lead a normal life. You felt Wanda’s hand rest gently on your shoulder and you gripped it tightly— reassuringly. 20,000 people died that day, and the guilt of not being able to save more lives wrapped itself around your gut with an iron grip.
“Lagos.” The camera switched to another video of a building on fire— it hadn’t been as violent as the others, but when Wanda’s grip on your shoulder became almost painful you knew it was the biggest one for her. 500 reported deaths. “Okay, that’s enough,” Steve growled. He had been watching his two best girls struggling to watch the film the Secretary had brought and when he saw your chest shudder with grief and when he saw Wanda’s knuckles on your shoulder turn white he knew he had to put his foot down.
“For the last four years, you have acted with unlimited power and no supervision.” He barked, glaring at Steve. You opened your eyes and began focusing on the swirling water in your glass to help calm you down. Soon, the water began to bubble and the glass shattered, spilling water across the table. You stopped the water before it spilled on anyone's laps and made the water fill the Secretary’s own cup— glass and all. He looked down at the glass and up at you and when he saw the fire in your eyes his mustache bristled in contempt.
“That’s an arrangement the governments of the world can no longer tolerate.” He said, his voice almost shaking with frustration towards you, Natasha and Steve— you were making a fool of him.
“But I think we have a solution.” He took a binder from one of his escorts and dropped it on the table. The thick binder made a resounding bang on the mahogany table top and you flinched away from the noise. The man smirked and he pushed it towards you. You refused to meet his gaze and opened the pages. It was a binding agreement with the government.
“The Sokovia Accords.” He said, resting his hands on the table and leaning forward. You could smell the scent of a cigar on his death and you refrained from gagging. “Approved by 117 countries,” Rhodey held his hand out for the book and you gave it to him. The look in his eyes was almost mournfully reassuring and you shot him a very small smile with tears still resting in the inner corners of your eyes.
“It states that the Avengers shall no longer be a private organization. Instead, they will operate under a United Nations panel, only when and if that panel deems it necessary.” The Secretary began circling the table like a hawk and you felt his fiery gaze rest on you at the mention of the UN.
“The Avengers were formed to help make the world a safer place. I feel we’ve done that.” Steve’s voice rumbled through the room and you looked across the table at him. His jaw was tense, making the muscles int he corner of it tremble. His normally warm blue eyes were cold and angry, and his folded arms were tense— veins pulsing and knuckles white. In any other situation, you would have jumped his bones, but the precedes of such strict government personnel buried any amount of desire in a six-foot hole.
Mr. Secretary walked up to Steves chair and rested his hip against the arm. “Tell me, Captain. Do you know where Thor and Banner are?” He asked, his mustache covering the gloating smirk he had on his face. “If I misplaced a couple of thirty megaton Nukes, you bet there would be consequences.”
You wanted to rip the old man’s dick off and shove it down his throat for disrespecting Steve, but Wanda’s shuddering body beside yours stopped you from making any more rash decisions.
“Compromise, Reassurance. That’s how the world works. Believe me,” He said, pointing to the open binder in front of Rhodes. “This is the middle ground.”
You decided that this was the time to clear your throat and speak up— you weren’t going to allow 30,000 dollars of university go to waste. “So, there are contingencies.” You leaned your elbows on the table and shifted in your seat so your back remained straight. Casual. Yet assertive.
“Three days from now, the UN meets in Vienna to ratify the Accords.” He responded, not bothering to even look over at you. “Talk it over.” He said, leaving the room while opening his phone and not even looking back.
The room he left remained silent for thirty seconds before the shit show truly began.
Steve and Tony had remained quiet and you had taken to pressing your leg against Wanda’s in some sort of physical comfort. You watched as Rhodey and Sam circled each other, growling arguments and shoving fingers of accusal at each other's chests. You rubbed your eyes with the palm of your heel and rested your cheek on your knuckles so you could watch Tony lay back with a hand over his face. He felt your gaze on him and you rolled your eyes at the argument in some attempt to make him smile. The corner of his lips teased in the most subtle way, but you knew he felt as if he had someone in his corner.
“— 177, Sam. And you’re all ‘no it’s cool, we got it’.” Rhodes barked while also mimicking his friends voice poorly.
“Well, how long are you gonna play both sides?” Sam sneered.
“I have an equation!” Vision interrupted, making Wanda perk up. You held back a smile at her actions because even int he time of a political turmoil the effects of complete adoration never seemed to waver. You felt the same way whenever Steve entered the room, and both of you worshipped the ground the other walked on. Love s love is love is love, you guessed.
You slid down to the floor and scooted over to lean against Steve’s knees. His hand almost immediately went to your hair and you could have purred at the feeling of his fingernails scraping your scalp.
“In the eight years since Mr. Stark has declared himself as Iron Man, the number of known Enhanced persons has grown exponentially. On the other side, the number of possible world-ending events has also increased at a mimicking rate.”
Steve’s fingers stopped moving and you felt him lean forward to rest his forearms on his thighs. “You’re saying it’s our fault?”
“I’m saying there may be a causality. Our very strength invites challenge. Challenge incites conflict. And conflict breeds catastrophe. Oversight is not an idea that can be dismissed out of hand.”
“Boom.” Mumbled Rhodes. He was stopped by a smack from Sam.
“Tony? Y/N? You’re both being uncharacteristically non-hyperverbal.” Nat said. Steve leaned back and pulled the Accord book into his lap to continue reading.
“It’s because they’ve already made up their mind,” Steve grumbled, glaring at Tony but opening his legs to invite you to sink into his embrace. You did so tensely.
“Oh, you know me so well,” Tony grunted as he lifted himself off of his lounging chair and walked into the kitchenette to fill a glass with water. “Actually I’m nursing an electro-magnetic headache. That’s what’s goin’ on Cap. Just pain— it’s discomfort.” He leaned over the sink and let out a long, drawn-out sigh. “Who keeps putting the coffee grounds in the disposal? Am I renting a bed and breakfast for a biker gang?” He complained, carrying the French press over to the oven on the island and glaring up at all of you. You sheepishly sunk further between Steve’s legs and mumbled a quick ‘sorry’ in response.
He threw his phone in the wicker fruit basket and an image of a man popped up in hologram form. You stared at his face for a long time before Tony pretended to finally notice it.
“Oh, that’s Charles Spencer, by the way.” He began. “He’s a great kid. Computer Engineering degree, three-point six GPA, had a floor level gig for an Intel plant for the fall. But first! He wanted to put a few miles on his soul before parking it behind a desk for the rest of his life and see the world, maybe be of service. Charlie didn’t want to go to Vegas or Fort Lauderdale like I would have. He didn’t go to Paris or Amsterdam. No, he wanted to help build a school for the underprivileged. Guess where? Sokovia.” He yelled, slamming the palm of his hand against the marble countertop on a guilt-fuelled rage. You only closed your eyes to will away the tears. You had been doing the exact same thing Charlie had been doing only you had lived and he had not. The guilt that came hand in hand with being an Enhanced made bile rush up your throat. You swallowed it back down— this was Charlie and Tony’s moment, not your own.
“He wanted to make a difference, I suppose but we’ll never know because we dropped a building on him while we were kickin’ ass.” He snarled, volume trailing as he went on. “We need to be put in check! Whatever form that takes I’m game. If we can’t accept boundaries, we are no better than the bad guys.”
“Tony, if someone dies on your watch you don’t give up,” Steve said, throwing the binder on the ground.
“Who said we’re giving up?” Tony replied.
“We offer not taking responsibility for our actions. This document just shifts the blame—“
“Sorry, Steve— but that is dangerously arrogant.” Rhodes piped up from his spot standing behind Steve. “This is the United Nations we are dealing with. This isn’t the World Security Council, it’s not SHEILD, and it’s not Hydra.”
“No, but it’s run by people with agendas and agendas change.”
“That’s good!” Cried Tony. “I’m here because I realized what my weapons were capable of in the wrong hands and I shut it down.”
“And you chose to do that!” Steve gestured with his hand wildly behind you. “If we sign these documents, we are giving up our right to choose. What if this panel decides we should go somewhere we’re not needed? Better yet, what if they don’t send us somewhere we need to be?” He said, voice rising in irritation.
“Okay, Steve.” You piped up and leaned your head back against his hard thighs. He looked down at you and waiting for you to continue. “The United Nations aren’t a bunch of Authoritarian Monkeys. They’re very much willing to take our suggestions to heart. This isn’t some repeat of Romeo Delaire and Rwanda— they’ve reaped the consequences from that genocide and have learned from their mistakes. I’ve seen them in action multiple times and they are very much hands-on in the way they deal with things now. You do know that the peacekeeping mission in Latvia isn’t a peacekeeping mission, right?” You asked, waiting for him to react. He rolled his eyes at your words and a ball of frustration began to stew in your chest. You were sick of being brushed off by powerful men today.
“Wait, you literally just dumped a bunch of broken glass and water into the cup of the Secretary of Defence!” Sam cried, walking into your sight and staring at you aghast. You rolled your eyes.
“I don’t have to like him— he’s a misogynist slimeball and has minimal say in the decisions that the United Nation makes."
“Okay, then,” Steve said, cradling the bridge of his nose between his fingers. “But the safest hands are still our own.”
“If we don’t do this now, it will be done to us later. This is the choice thing you’re talking about.” Tony said, coming to your defense. He shot you a subtle wink and you nodded in recognition.  “And that won’t be pretty.”
“You’re saying they’ll come for me,” Wanda replied to Tony, her own voice completely monotonous.
“We won’t let that happen.” You and Vision said simultaneously. You would die before the government got their hands on Wanda against her own will. You would fight tooth and nail and bone for that girl.
“Maybe Tony is right?” Nat said nervously. “If we can keep one hand on the wheel then we’re still in control—“
“I cannot believe this is happening!” Screeched Sam, throwing his hand in the air before turning sharply towards Natasha and looking between you and her. “Aren’t you the same woman who told the government to kiss her ass a few years ago?”
“I’m just… I’m raiding the terrain.” She said raising her hands in surrender. “We have made some very public mistakes and we need to win their trust back.”
“Hold up. Rewind. I’m sorry did I just mishear you or did you just agree with me?” Tony said, looking at Natasha like she was holding the universe in her very palm.
“Oh, I want to take it back now.” She groaned.
“Ask your girlfriend what she thinks, huh Steve? Ask her.” Tony said, continuing to ride this high of support. You felt Steve tense, then and you covered your face with your cold hand in response to his words.
“Y/N? What do you think.” He whispered, not willing his voice any louder for fear of it wavering nervously. You stood up from his embrace and wiped your clammy hands on your jeans while you cleared your throat. You looked over the group of people and wanted to cry at the look Steve was giving you. It was one of total and utter betrayal and disappointment.
“I’m ahh—“ You began, coughing once more to rid the lump in your throat. “I’m gonna have to side with Tony on this one, Stevie.” You watched as he flinched and you closed your eyes in grief. “From what I know as a Political Science Major it’s that technically the Avengers are a glorified American terrorist group. We ignore borders. We kill thousands every year. We destroy countries economies and tourism businesses. We act on our own accord for no reason at all.” You said, staring at our feet. You heard Steve shoot up from his chair and step closer to you.
“Fucking, excuse me?” He growled, crossing his arms over his broad chest. You looked up at him and almost burst into tears at the look he was giving you. You straightened your back and pushed your shoulders back before pushing him out of your personal bubble and glaring back at him. If he could throw his relationships out of the window for his beliefs so could you.
“You heard me, Steve. I was in the United Nations for two years before I even thought about joining the Avengers. I was a part of something greater than myself because I wanted to make peace, not terrorize people wherever I went!” You said, voice raising past acceptable indoor volume.
“We make peace! We neutralize Hydra before they can destroy the world!” He shouted. His voice sent tremors into your very blood and your face flushed with an angry heat.
“You’re so dramatic! Hydra is barely a threat anymore, and we could have dealt with them so much better than we did in Lagos! We should have never brought Wanda along if we knew there were going to be explosives involved. You knew she wasn’t ready and not only did you put her and us in danger, but the entire city. Fuck, Steve! You’re killing thousands of people because of some dumb personal vendetta and I can’t stand for it anymore!” You screamed. You were both crying at this point, and you didn’t even notice Wanda fly from the room at your words. The others were watching the argument with bated breath— you had never fought or even raised your voices at the other, so this was new to everyone in the room.
Before he could even open up his mouth to retort, his phone binged. He glanced down at it and you saw his body almost slum when he read the message.
“I’ve got to go.” He mumbled, wiping his nose and leaving the room.
PART 2
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kl4us4 · 7 years
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THE RED STRING
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Summary: According to the myth of the Red String, the gods tie an invisible red cord around the ankles of those that are destined to meet one another. On the ground, everything is different and the rules are non existent. In the midst of a war, this is how Bellamy Blake discovered that red string.
Song: The Last of Us - Woodlock
masterlist // TRS masterlist
You sit up, feeling Bellamy turn in his sleep. You’re not even sure how he can sleep with the amount of people currently residing in the drop ship. You’re all trying to contain this... virus.
But unfortunately, people came back from the Ark before that could happen. And now there are more people sick.
Thankfully, though, you’ve quarantined the camp. No ones allowed in or out until this thing fades out.
You haven’t seen your mother in a few days. It feels weird yet normal at the same time. You’re glad she’s safe, even if there’s so much you haven’t had a chance to tell her.
“Morning, Bell.” You smile, pushing a strand of hair away from his glistening forehead. He looks paler than normal, the purple around his eyes more prominent than his freckles.
He doesn’t reply, just closes his eyes and makes a small grunting noise. “What do you need from me?” You ask, ready to do whatever he needs you to. He doesn’t reply. His eyes are closed.
“Bellamy," you place one hand on his cold cheek and his eyes flutter open. Looking at him for a few seconds, you begin to wipe the blood from his mouth with a piece of fabric.
"Octavia," he greets with a small smile and you furrow your eyebrows. You’re about to shake your head and tell him you’re not her but someone sits next to you.
"How're you feeling, big brother?" She questions, trying to sound like she's not filled with terror at the real thought of Bellamy dying.
"I'm fine, she's taking good care of me," Bellamy replies as he looks to you, making you smile as you chuckle slightly.
"I know she is." Octavia smiles and squeezes your shoulder before letting go and placing a kiss on Bellamy's forehead, "I'll come back later to check up on you Bell, I love you."
“Bye, little sister,” Bellamy mumbles, closing his eyes with a sad look etched into his features.
“What’s wrong?” You stress, “What hurts?”
He opens his eyes, looking up at you as he replies. “Nothing you can fix.”
“Tell me.” You urge him, not wanting to let his thoughts sit and simmer alone in his mind.
He takes a breath, furrowing his eyebrows as he fights back tears. “I’m scared, Y/N.” And at that moment all your hope for him getting better vanishes.
You shake your head, trying to collect your thoughts. What are you supposed to tell him? You feel your eyes begin to tear up and Bellamy doesn’t hold back anymore. Tears of his own begin to fall. “No, you’re Bellamy Blake.” You laugh, placing a hand on his cheek, wiping a tear away, “You’re not afraid of anything.”
“I’m afraid of leaving you.” He admits, his brown eyes never leaving yours.
“Stop.” You gulp, feeling it getting harder and harder to breathe as you sit beside him, “You’re going to be fine, baby-“
“And if I’m not?” He persists, his shaking hand reaching for yours.
Sighing, you lay down beside him, sharing the pillow between the two of you. “Then I’m sure we’ll meet again in another life. We’re tethered together.”
He smiles, remembering about how he once learnt about some ancient legend about some kind of coloured string tethering two people together.
You place a hand on his, moving it to your beating chest. “You’ll never be gone.” The reassurement makes him smile - and fall just a little bit more in love with you.
“I’m so in love with you.” He blurts out, literally astonished at how much he loves you. You make him feel so loved.
Smiling, you feel yourself become self-conscious under his gaze. “I love you too. Always.”
He smiles, shutting his eyes for a few seconds and you watch his eyelids with anticipation. Upon a loud noise from outside, his eyes snap open and another coughing fit overcomes Bellamy. Placing a hand on his back, you sit him up so he can breathe better. Another crash. Louder this time. Your head snaps towards the door, then to Clarke who gives you a look of worry.
“Go,” Bellamy exhales, his voice quiet and rough, “go, go, I’m fine.”
Kissing his cheek, you quickly leave his side before heading outside the dropship to discover the origin of the noise. It’s chaos. Sort of what you’d imagine hell to look like. But less fire.
Everything passes your like of sight in rapid speed as you observe your surroundings, almost as if for the first time. The camp gate has been obliterated, their remains pushed to the floor.
Grounders, in every direction, gather up your people. Fear sets in, along with anger and confusion. Octavia is beside you in less than a second.
“What the hell is going on?!” She shouts, rushing up to someone who seems to be their leader. You follow her, clenching your fists.
“Skaikru have ruined the village of Halley on the border of the Azgeda Nation. The truce we once had is broken, Octavia.” The woman states, her voice calm and collected.
Looking to Octavia, you widen your eyes yet there is a crease between your eyebrows. “What truce?” You ask her through gritted teeth. Skaikru. Is that our name now? Is that us? You wonder. “What. Truce?”
“I don’t have time to explain it to you, Y/N.” She turns back to Octavia and you can feel the grounders eyes on you. Looking up, you make eye contact with her and you don’t look away. “Lexa,” Octavia begins, “Skaikru did not do this out of malice. It was an error in the Arks landing, when our people came home they couldn’t control where they landed.”
“Whether it was controlled or not, blood has been shed, Octavia,” Lexa replies, her guards standing beside her are stoic and still, like cruel statues. “And blood must have blood.”
The guards move towards you, but you’re quick to react. There’s adrenaline pumping through you at the thought of Bellamy still in the drop ship, and his sister beside you about to be captured. Swinging your leg high and forcefully, you kick the guard back, buying you some time as O pulls her sword out on the other. As Lexa calls more of them, you both run back into the dropship.
It’s all almost evacuated. Luckily no one patched up the hole Murphy left when he escaped. It’s now being used as an exit for the sick and injured, as the healthy and strong fight the grounders as much as they can to keep everyone safe. Kneeling beside Bellamy, he notices your stunned expression. “Get up.” You order, lifting him by his arms with Octavia’s help. He’s still weak but you try as hard as you can to get to the escape route. “Bellamy, I can’t do this by myself you need to help me, baby.”
Grunting in pain, Bellamy tries to ignore the sharp pain in his lower stomach in order to stand with stability. Incoherent shouts make you jump slightly despite not understanding the language. You don’t need to look back to know who’s behind you. When Octavia lets go of Bellamy’s side, you almost fall but he lets out a pained groan and turns to her. “Octavia, no. Come, come back.” He pleads, out of breath.
O looks to you, her hand on her sword as the guard's approach. “Go, get him somewhere safe. I’ll find you later.” She nods to you, reassuring and calm of your departure.
“Stop, we can’t.” Bellamys disoriented and his words are slurred. Octavia pushes you both away, deciding your fate for you. You pull Bellamy along to the other side of the drop ship despite his protests. When you’re outside the outer gates, he finds the strength to push you away from him and you look at him with wide eyes, scared he’ll collapse with no recovery.
“We’re going back, we have to get Octavia.” He states angrily, not looking at you.
“Stop, you can barely walk!” You exclaim, helping him before he can fall over trying to walk on his own. He looks like he’s in pain, the kind of pain not limited psychically.
“She’s my sister!” He deliriously shouts in your ear, making you flinch and look away from him, “And you left her to die!”
“Stop.” You tell him, not being able to take the harsh sounds of his hurtful words. They used to roll off your back but now... now he means something to you. 
“Get the fuck off of me!” He slurs, clearly being affected by the virus inside him. Shaking your head, you pull him further along. More grounders will be coming soon and you don’t want to think about what could happen if they find you.
You can hear approaching footsteps and you quicken your pace. The grounders are already approaching. Your gut falls. What if something bad happened to Octavia?
“Y/N!”
You freeze, turning around quickly at the voice. “Finn?” You respond, watching him halt from his run. Behind him is Abby and Clarke, who looks out of breath. “Where’s Murphy?” 
“Come on, there’ll be more coming soon,” Clarke states, acknowledging Finns help of carrying Bellamy with a small nod.
“No, where is he?” You repeat, your eyes are wide and incredulous. Abby looks down, standing beside her daughter. 
Clarke lets out a loud sigh as she rolls her eyes in anger, “We left him. He’s a traitor. Not to mention he’s the reason this is all happening.” 
Frowning your eyebrows at her, you glance at Finn. “I expected better. From both of you.” You state, feeling a pang of guilt in your heart at the thought of Murphy laying in the dropship all alone. 
“Well, there’s nothing you can do,” Finn states, pushing at the idea of not going back to the dropship. It’s like he can read your mind, he knows exactly what you’re thinking and he can see it on your face. “Let’s go.”
You don’t move. All you do is give one last glance at Bellamy, his eyes fluttering closed, tiredness overcoming him as his body tries to recover from his sickness. He still looks sweet, innocent, like he’s just sleeping. You know what you have to do. “I know what you think you have to do.” Finn states, “But it’s suicide.” 
Walking up to Bellamy, you place a hand on his warm cheek. He looks at you, not really understanding what’s going on. “I’m going to get Octavia and Murphy. And anyone else who needs me.”
“You’re l-leaving?” He frowns, coughing before he looks down at you. Bellamy knows you have to go back for your friends. He’d usually feel the need to try to hold you close, to keep you safe, but he’s realised you’re not a passive person. You can’t sit by and let things happen. Though he tries to keep you close and warm, you start to burn. He lets you leave. He acknowledges that you need to do this.
You nod at him, smiling at how he leans into your touch. Feeling the utmost respect from Bellamy, you finally feel the gravity of how much you’ve both changed. “This is something I need to do.” You tell him something that he already knows.
Bellamy, not telling you you’re foolish, naive, or stupid, nods his head at you. You can do it, he knows someone as strong as you can do anything. “Well then,” he forces a smile, hiding his worry behind the faith he puts in you, “come back soon.”
You both share a smile and share one last glance and you head to the door. Without another word, you run to the dropship and ignore the protests from your friends. Quietly stepping around the back entrance, you peek your head into the dropship. It’s odd. There’s only one grounder beside Murphy, crouched next to him, seemingly talking to him.
But then it turns bad. The grounder uses all his force to slap Murphy in the face and at that moment, you intervene. Kicking the unmasked grounder in the back on the head, he grunts and falls to the ground before you grab a plank of wood from the bench and crash it over his head. He’s out cold. He’s actually out cold. 
Murphy looks up at you, wondering what’s going to happen next. “You came back for me?” His voice is croaky. 
“Yeah don’t think about it too much.” You nod quickly, bending down to lift him up, “There’s no time, we-”
“Watch out!” Murphy pushes you out of the way just in time. The grounders sword swings low, almost hitting Murphy between the legs but he’s able to move in time. 
Murphy rushes to stand behind you as the grounder retrieves his sword and stands at the exit, the exact place you need to go. You’re going to have to take a long way out - to the front of the dropship and through the entire camp.
“We need to find another way out.” You tell Murphy, never moving your eyes off of the grounder in front of you, who just gives you a smirk. “Murphy, somehow we’re going to need to find a way through the camp.”
When your friend doesn’t answer, you turn to face him and, being met with the most hope-crushing image, your shoulders fall. 
“Y/N.” The cold tone and remorseless eyes belonging to Lexa is the last thing you encounter before a dark hood is placed over your head.
TAGLIST: kuro-neko88 blue-berry-barry-allen doctorwhoandrory feelins-fadin jaib2-blogjustacrushcainismyname the-grounder-girlimaginexmeintheuniverse 
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geekystorytelling · 7 years
Text
A Cauldron Full of Hot, Strong Love
Prompt: Hogwarts AU- Day 4 of Sanvers Week
Summary: A transfer student meets the notorious Gryffindor Super Squad and sparks fly.
The doors to the Great Hall opened and the four girls strode in as though the gazes of the other students were completely inconsequential.
Crisp red and gold tie in place, Alex Danvers led the quartet to their spot at the edge of the Gryffindor table furthest from the professors. Though, the space did little to curb the attention paid to the group.
“I’m just saying Luce, if Lois and Clark were caught in the prefect’s bathroom we would have at least seen a deduction in house points by now, regardless of the lack of gossip about it” Alex Danvers stated to the amusement of her friends.
“Unless the professor let them get away with it! I’m telling you it was Professor White who found them and just let them off with a warning. I heard him laughing about it with Professor Marsdin” Lucy replied with a scoff punctuating her displeasure.
Scooping eggs onto her plate, Kara paid little attention to the antics of her friends. The bags under her eyes and fresh prominent bruises along her arms indicated it was a restless night for the younger Danvers sister.
Not one to sit by idly, Lena Luthor took Kara’s goblet and filled it to the brim with pumpkin juice. Placing the cup next to Kara’s plate, Lena gently rubbed her back. “How are you feeling today, hun?”
Sighing with a twinge of frustration, “I’m just hungry. I don’t think I ate enough yesterday to be up to full strength for last night so it really took a lot out of me.”
Finished filling her overflowing plate, Kara put it down in front of her before tearing into it.
With an arched eyebrow, Alex called out, “Lync, you might want to slow down there. I don’t think Madame Pomfrey would be too happy with you returning to the hospital wing so soon. Especially because you inhaled your food so quickly you got sick.”
Pouting under her sisters pointed look, Kara slowed her eating to only a slightly disgustingly fast pattern reflecting more of a starved chipmunk than a pregnant sow.
Shaking her head, Alex turned to the rest of the group and questioned, “Have any of you heard the rumors that we might be getting a new student today?”
With a frown on her face, Lena retorted, “A transfer student? Two months into the school year? That doesn’t make sense. I don’t think Hogwarts has ever accepted someone after the year has started.”
Echoing Lena, Lucy added, “Yeah, I asked James about it and he said it’s definitely never happened before.”
Grinning Alex nudged Lucy, “Ooooh you asked James about it? How is our favorite 6th year, Vixen?”
Rolling her eyes, Lucy took a sip from her goblet giving herself a moment to formulate a retort to Alex’s taunt. “He’s doing well. Which I’m sure you very well know considering we are all on the same quidditch team."
Frowning, Lena held a hand to her heart mocking pain. “To be forgotten once again, as is a curse begotten to me by my name.” She proceeded to fall onto Kara in a parodied faint with one hand on her chest and the other backwards on her forehead.
Snorting, Kara continued to eat her breakfast as though unaware of the 5th year girl pretending to be passed out in her lap.
Arching her eyebrow, Lucy asked, “Don’t you think that’s a bit much Slysnout?”
Opening her mouth to retort, Lena was suddenly overwhelmed by a piece of bacon. Forced to eat it from her position in Kara’s lap, Lena sat up with furious dagger eyebrows glaring at Kara.
Smiling, Kara cheekily responded to Lena’s fury, “What!? You looked hungry!”
Unable to get angry at her girlfriend, Lena turned to face Lucy. “That wasn’t a bit much. What was a bit much was you saying we are all on the same quidditch team when I most certainly do not play quidditch.”
Looking like a fox about to pounce on her tricked prey, Lucy opened her mouth to reply only to find Alex’s hand covering it.
“We all know the only reason you won’t try out for the quidditch team is because your mom won’t let you” Alex quickly replied to quell the fiery argument about to launch between Lena and Lucy.
“Well of course she won’t. I’m a Luthor. I am meant to make the best brooms in the world. And, twice a year, race the best brooms in the world. But oh Merlin the scandal if I were ever to be caught playing a game on one of our brooms.” Dismissively shaking her head, Lena indicated she was done with her line of thought.
Alex kicked Lucy under the table trying to indicate for her to apologize for bringing about the sensitive topic.
With a glare directed at Alex, Lucy started “Lena I’m—“
“Students, settle down,” Headmaster J’onzz made a striking image standing at the head of the teachers table in long academic garments from his alma mater, Castelobruxo, normally saved for the start and end of the school year.
Looking out onto the four houses, he continued, “I know many of you have already heard the news, but for those of you who haven’t, Hogwarts is getting a new student today. Transferring from the Beauxbatons Academy of Magic is Maggie Sawyer. She will be joining the 5th year students. Professor Grant, if you would please…” Headmaster J’onzz gestured to the door.
As if on cue, Professor Cat Grant strode into the hall with a familiar three legged stool and battered hat. More interesting, however, was the unfamiliar girl with dark curly hair and hand me down robes that fell into step with her.
Putting the stool on the floor in front of the head table, Professor Grant placed the hat on the stool. Pausing, for dramatic effect- as was expected of the Transfiguration professor, Professor Grant called out, “Maggie Sawyer.”
Raising an eyebrow as though to ask who else would it be, Maggie walked up to the stool. Professor Grant raised the hat, giving an empty space for Maggie to sit, before placing the sorting hat onto her head.
“Hmmm difficult very difficult.” A voice called out in Maggie’s head causing her to straighten in her seat.
“Wha-I mean that’s- what’s difficult?” Maggie replied to the hat, hoping that her loud thoughts carried through to the unassuming psychic object.
“Very intelligent I see…and quite a streak of ambition. Ahhh! I see now, a thirst to prove you are worth more than anyone bargained for…yes yes, Slytherin would do you well.”
Eyebrows raised, Maggie looked at the green and silver table trying to imagine her fitting in with the notoriously pureblood elite. “Not Slytherin, please, I just- I mean- I can’t. I left one bad situation, I can’t go into another.”
“Hmm, right then, right…I see, not afraid to stand up for yourself and what you believe. And a hunger for righteousness…I know just where to put you.”
Holding her breath, Maggie waited on the edge of the stool for the hat to condemn her to another prison.
“GRYFFINDOR!”
Shell shocked, she let out her breath and stood up. Professor Grant was quick to pull the hat off of her hat, and wave her in the direction of the red and gold table.
Walking towards the clapping students, Maggie took stock of the table and soon found the only empty seats were to the far side, opposite the head table.
Watching the new student walk in the direction of the Super Squad, the hall seemed to hold its breath at the turn of events. Alex, amused by the obliviousness of the transfer student, smirked at her friends and rose in her seat.
Waving Maggie down to their group, Alex offered her the seat next to Lena. “Feel free to sit with us, I’m sure it’s been a long day for you.”
Unsure of what to make of the attractive girl with shoulder length bronze hair offering her a seat, a place, Maggie hesitantly smiled and nodded in agreement while taking the seat.
“My name is Alex Danvers, next to me is Lucy Lane, and across from us is my sister Kara and her girlfriend Lena Luthor.”
“I’m just saying Alex, she has no friends. It would be nice if we invited her to do something with us.” Kara berated Alex while waiting for their staircase to finish moving to the 5th floor corridor.
“Kara, I invited her to sit with us in the Great Hall. I don’t know what more you want from me.”
“I don’t know Alex. She is so nice at meal times and in lessons. I don’t like to think about her all alone.”
Giving Kara a sad smile, Alex squeezed her sisters shoulder. “As much as we might wish we could, we can’t make anyone want to be friends with us. Remember how hard it was for Lena when she was sorted? Sometimes you need to give people time and space. She’ll come around.”
Pouting, Kara made to respond but was waylaid by a reverberating crash echoing in the hallway. Looking at each other, the Danvers sisters hurried to the source of the sound and found Maggie Sawyer pinned to the wall by Max Lord.
“I don’t know what Danvers thinks is so great about you. You know you’re the first she and her little posse of wannabes have invited to actually sit with them. You are nothing but a filthy mudblood.”
Raising her wand with the precision only Hogwarts’ top dueler could manage, Alex cast a banishment charm at Max and watched as he was blown to the side.
Maggie, quite literally left hanging, slumped to the floor with bruises already beginning to form. Both sisters slowed their advance as they approached Maggie.
“Hey- uh- hey Sawyer? Maggie?” Alex called trying to get the girl’s attention.
Not wanting anyone to see her with her guard down, Maggie’s face took on a guarded expression as she turned to face the sisters.
“Hey Maggie, we saw what Max was doing. We heard what he said. You are an amazing witch…you know that, right?” Kara said with a forced smile on her face trying to respect the girl’s privacy while also holding in her inner rage that threatened to come bursting out at any moment.
Noticing her sister’s struggles, Alex gave her a look that said pull yourself together. Stepping in front of Kara, Alex bent down to Maggie’s level and offered her hand. “Here you are Sawyer. Let’s go get you checked out by Madame Pomfrey.”
Putting her hand in her savior’s clasp, Maggie was surprised by how right it felt to be held by the other student. Shuffling upwards, she nearly fell again but was saved again as Alex caught her in a hug.
Awkwardly looking up at the taller girl, Maggie fixed her footing until she was able to stand on her own.
“Uhm-yea- right then!” Brushing off the invisible dirt from her robes. Maggie looked down to hide the blush that had formed on her cheeks. Had she been looking at Alex, she would have noticed her ears and neck turning a deep red.
Walking towards the hospital wing, Kara, who’s deep breaths quelled her inner turmoil, spoke up, “Maggie, you’ll hang out with us now…right?”
The fireplace roared to life as though auditioning to be the newest mascot of the Gryffindor house. Sprawled in front of its light, the Super Squad, and their newest addition- Maggie, settled in for a night of homework.
“Leeeeeena, I can’t believe you finished all of your homework already,” Kara whined as she puckered her lips in a failed attempt at a pout.
With an eyebrow raised, Lena haughtily replied “She said with surprise in her voice for some reason.”
“I thought you loved me. How could you do this to us Lena? You were supposed to be my hot cauldron bubbling with love.” Eyes filling with fake tears, Kara took her water bottle and blotted more condensation onto her fingers which she rubbed on her face for added effect.
Rolling her eyes, Lena replied, “Honey, I think the lyrics you are trying to remember are ‘a cauldron full of hot, strong love.’”
Watching from the sidelines, Maggie was surprised by the ease in which the others accepted the relationship between the two girls. Their banter alone was the source of much amusement for Alex and Lucy. Not once did Maggie notice disdain or reproach due to the girls’ sexuality.
Noticing the inquisitive look from the newcomer, Lucy questioned, “So Maggie, tell us about yourself. What made you decide to come to Hogwarts? We’ve never had a transfer student in the middle of the year before.”
Looking up at Lucy with wide eyes as though she had just taken an awakening potion, Maggie looked to Alex for help out of the question.
“Oh leave her be Vixen, we’ve all got things we’d rather not talk about” Alex called out from her armchair. Her feet danged over the arm of the chair; she had a book perched on top of her knees though she had yet to flip a page since opening it.
Eyebrows furrowed with confusion, Maggie questioned, “I’ve heard you call her that before- you know- uh- Vixen…? Do you all have nicknames?”
Grinning up from her seat in front of the fireplace, Kara was quick to bark out “Yes! It’s the best!” before noticing the frown marred on her sisters face.
With one eyebrow raised, Maggie questioned, ‘Well Little Danvers, are you going to tell me the rest of your nicknames?”
“Oh right! Well, you know Lucy is Vixen already. My nickname is Lync, Lena is Slysnout, and my lovely sister over there is Swiftpaw.”
Squinting her eyes as though trying to read something from far away, Maggie went on to question, “Is there- well there must be- is there a particular reason why you have these nicknames? I mean feel free to tell me to mind my own business, I’m just being nosey.”
Giving her sister a pointed look, Alex replied, “Well, I’m surprised our reputation hasn’t preceded us. You are looking at Hogwarts finest group of pranksters since the Marauders 50 years ago.”
“What Alex is trying to say is that we-” Lena stops to gesture to herself and the rest of the group “-tend to get up to nighttime extra-curricular activities that make nicknames a much preferred communication tool over our actual names.”
“And by that, Lena means, we don’t want our asses to get busted when we spell Max Lords hair pink or hide truthfulness potion in Professor Grant’s tea cups,” Lucy adds with a smirk as she winds her wand in a delicate circle as though to mimic a spell.
“Wow, huh, you guys aren’t like bullies though right? Like, Max Lord I get…he is-“ Maggie breaks off to shudder to herself in memory of being pressed against a wall, her wand too far to reach from where her arms were pinned “-he is the worst. But you don’t pick on people who aren’t doing anything right?” Maggie looks out questioning whether her new friends were people she could trust- people she could respect.
Quickly sitting up in her seat, Alex looked out at Maggie and slowly said in a voice that left room for no argument, “We have not, do not, and will not tolerate bullying of any kind. The four of us ended up getting close because we were at one point or another bullied by people in the school. Of course, Kara and I were close regardless.”
“Now, that’s not to say we haven’t done pranks that have affected the entire school” Lucy butt in to ensure Maggie was not blindsided by their activities.
“Anytime we do that we make sure it is in good fun though Maggie, seriously. We never want to hurt another student or make them feel attacked or alone” Kara made sure to chime in to echo her friends.
Raising her knees, Maggie hugged them to her body as she looked out at the group that had slowly become entrenched in her heart. Alex and Kara had saved her from Max’s advances. Lucy and Lena had been there to help her in class and offer quick-witted retorts to Lord’s striking comments.
“I guess the reason why that’s so important to m- well to answer your original question Lucy- I transferred to Hogwarts because I was jumped at my old school” Maggie quickly stated jumbling her words as she tried to get them out.
The four girls looked up at her with varying degrees of horror etched across their faces. Kara, once again, looked like she was battling an inner beast ready to come out and strike down all of her foes. While Alex, who also looked deadly, resembled more of a smoldering ball of flames that on command would explode into a wave of white hot fire. Meanwhile, Lucy and Lena both had equally fierce looks on their face- but seemed more ready to question Maggie for the details rather than punch their way through a battlefield.
“Can we ask? I mean- would you mind, if we asked what happened?” Lena questioned looking like she was torn between giving Maggie her full attention and going over to Kara to help calm her down.
Maggie looked out at the group as though weighing the pros and cons of her confession. She knew that this group was accepting; she saw that on a daily basis with their response to Kara and Lena’s relationship. But somethings, no matter how well you know a person will take it, are still hard to say out loud.
Almost whimpering, Maggie hummed to herself before starting, “I guess it won’t be a big deal for you all. I don’t know. But, it’s important for you to know. I was the only out queer kid at Beauxbatons. And well, the students were already divided over issues with veela and other magical creatures. I guess I shouldn’t have been surprised they didn’t want a queer classmate.”
Frowning at Maggie’s self-deprecating tone, Alex spoke up, “Well, we definitely want a queer classmate. I know that can’t take the hurt away from what happened to you at Beauxbatons. But, know you are in good company.”
Raising her eyebrow towards Lucy, Lucy huffed a sigh before saying, “I am bi, you already know Kara and Lena are so gay for each other they can’t function-“
“-Hey!” both Kara and Lena cried out from their spots on the floor.
“-and well Alex here-“
“-I am the resident baby gay. I came out this summer to lots of tears and worn down Stevie Nicks albums,” Alex cut Lucy off before she could finish.
“Stevie Nicks? I thought purebloods didn’t listen to muggle music?” Maggie questioned while trying to wrap her head around the fact that the group she had made friends with was made up of out and proud queer women- just like her.
“Well isn’t that antiquated of you?” Lena said with a smirk, “and that is coming from the resident Luthor.”
“Yes, yes, Lena dear. We all know that you’re evil,” Lucy said with a roll of her eyes as though agreeing that a toddler would grow up to become president.
“To answer your question Maggie,” Alex replied with a pointed glare at the bickering friends, “while I am a pureblood, Kara is adopted and we have tried to honor her muggleborn heritage with things like muggle art and music.”
“What Alex means to say is that she loves muggle music and uses me as an excuse to sneak into muggle London to see awful rock and roll cover bands,” Kara interjected.
“Regardless of Alex’s musical proclivities, you are safe with us Maggie. That is, if we haven’t scared you off,” Lucy said in the most serious tone Maggie had heard her use since meeting her.
Fingers fidgeting in her lap, Maggie looked at the kind smiles adorned on her new friends faces.
“Nah, you haven’t scared me off yet.”
“I TAKE IT BACK! I TAKE IT BACK! I’VE BEEN SCARED OFF!” Maggie screeched as she chased after Alex. Winding their path through secret passageways and passed scandalized portraits, the girls eventually fell into a broom closet, panting for breath.
“I- can’t- breathe,“ Maggie managed to huff out as her short breaths pressed achingly into her burning ribs.
Alex, on the other hand, was silent as she took long deep breaths attempting to steady herself.
“Well, all we need to do is get passed Professor Grant, and your initiation prank will be complete,” Alex eventually replied with only a slight wheeze to her voice.
Still trying to catch her breath, Maggie only managed to glare at Alex before eventually replying, “You failed to mention she could turn into a cat.”
Chuckling softly, Alex offered Maggie a shrug. “Well, she is the Transfiguration Professor.”
Hearing footsteps in the corridor outside the hall, Alex covered Maggie’s mouth in an attempt to quiet the slowly softening rasps.
Standing still for what seemed like an eternity, Maggie attempted to quiet her breaths while also not allowing herself to get lost in her friends eyes. Eyes which, upon notice, were very close to Maggie’s own.
Forcing herself not to glance down at Alex’s lips, Maggie could hear her heartbeat speed up once she realized their position.
Removing her hand from Maggie’s mouth, Alex looked torn between moving closer or jumping back and giving her space.
Deciding to chicken out, Alex took a step back and allowed the silence of the night to lull the two into a less heightened headspace.
Listening to the footsteps grow lighter and lighter, Maggie reached out to prod Alex, “I think we can go.”
Looking at the girl in surprise, Alex questioned, “Are you sure you want to chance it?”
Grinning, Maggie replied, “Ride or Die, Danvers?”
Holding out her fist, Maggie’s hand tingled when Alex bumped hers and replied “Ride or Die!”
Slowly opening the closet door, Alex peeked out to make sure they were alone. Motioning for Maggie to follow her, she quickly turned around before exiting the closet.
“Once we get out there we will have to make a run for it until we get back to the Gryffindor common room,” Alex exclaimed making sure Maggie understood the plan.
“I know Danvers,” Maggie said with a roll of her eyes.
“Well- uhm- then- for good luck?” Alex questioned before swooping in and pressing a kiss to Maggie’s cheek.
Unabashedly gaping at Alex’s courage, Maggie was not ready for Alex to throw open the closet door and race down the hallway.
“Oh you are not getting away from me that easily,” Maggie muttered before taking off after Alex.
Originally posted:
http://archiveofourown.org/works/11240970/chapters/25199544
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