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ly-canthropewrites · 4 years

Text

Trust and Security

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader

Word Count: 3460 words (I was aiming for 1000, but let’s just say - it got away from me)

Ratings/Warnings: SFW.

Summary: “Didn’t you hear the news? It’s safer to shower in pairs” @twdeadfanfic

It’s been over a month since the prison fell, and your group was weary. After one month of being out on the road, vulnerable and exhausted, your little family finds safety behind the tall walls of the Alexandria Safe Zone. Although, the walls do nothing to cease your skittishness.

The new folk behind the walls were kind and gracious, but at the same time, naive and inexperienced to what lays behind their safe haven and that worries you. It worries your group as well; everyone picking up on the credulous attitudes and their misty-eyed optimism and it just doesn’t sit right.

The first few days were difficult, a strange adjustment period. After being used to the wilderness and the danger it includes to now having a proper house to sleep in and call home, it felt, surreal. But after a few days, some of your people begin to relax and enjoy the safety of Alexandria.

You weren’t one of them, and neither was Daryl. The pair of you refused to believe in this wonderland, a shared acceptance in the belief that this place will fall just like the prison and just like any other ‘safe place’ that stood before. Perhaps you weren’t giving this place a chance? Perhaps it is easier to set yourself up for failure rather than have your hopes high? Regardless of the reasoning behind it, you just can’t get rid of the gnawing feeling of the false safety this place eludes.

Almost daily, Rick tries to convince you of Alexandria’s potential. He exemplifies the possibility of having a future here, a safe future for Carl and Judith to grow up in, a safe place where there isn’t fear about the dead or the dangers that stalk outside the walls. And almost daily, both you and Daryl turn him down, stubborn in your ways and between the false reality constructed and the abnormal kindness from the residents, you can’t help but feel unsafe.

You can’t lie, however, that Alexandria does have its perks. You have been here for 5 days already and you have not gone hungry once in that time. It is nice to have a healthy food supply, to have a blanket and a mattress that isn’t damaged or dirty and of course, it is nice to be clean. You have taken advantage of the running water system in the town, taking more showers in the last 5 days than you have in the month and it is a luxury that you allow yourself to indulge in.

The first time you had a shower you almost cried. Not one for the emotions normally, it couldn’t be helped that day when hot, running water cascading over you, temporarily washing away the trauma and pain of the apocalyptic world. For a moment, you could forget the ones you’ve lost, the agony and anguish every time you’ve had to take a life, the suffering and torture you’ve endured. For a moment, you could just be no-one.

- - -

Day six lingers, and the house is quiet. It had been decided yesterday that it’s possible to make Alexandria home and for that, houses were given to share. Rick, Carl, Judith and Michonne moved next door, never too far away from family but it gave them enough space to breathe. A large portion of the group, consisting of Abraham, Eugene, Sasha and Rosita, moved into another house on the same street. The remaining were quick to claim rooms; Maggie and Glenn taking a room as well as Carol stealing the spare. It left you and Daryl with a little bedroom on the ground floor and the lounge room. It didn’t matter, neither of you slept much nowadays and if you did, it was never at the same time. One always had to be on watch.

It was a silent arrangement, just like how your friendship blossomed. One day you were alone, despite being with the group, lingering to one side, keeping one eye on the wilderness around you as if you were ready to jump up and run into its clutches. But then one day, with no significant event as the catalyst, Daryl grew close, being drawn to your side every time a new camp was set up. Neither of you asked for the other to join, it just always happened. It became an unspoken rule that you were to always be partners. If you were to go hunting, so would Daryl. If you chose to set up your sleeping roll in the corner, Daryl would linger close. If you missed a meal, or gave your portion to someone else, then Daryl would give you some of his. It was unspoken, but it was law. You weren’t to be separated.

- - -

Summer had followed your group to Alexandria and the pair of you sat on the porch. Daryl was fiddling with his crossbow, nimble fingers twirling and unwinding certain pieces, tightening this and that, fixing up his bolts before giving the entire weapon a wipe down. He worked methodically, quietly, as if his actions were second nature to him. You shamelessly watched him periodically, fascinated by the sleek weapon and by the rugged man. He was your best friend, your partner and companion. You would die for him and he would die for you. It was simple. It was easy. And he was the single person that never failed to bring a smile to your lips.

Satisfied with your ogling, you return to your book. It wasn’t yours to begin with. It came with the furnished house and in a moment of boredom, you plucked it from its place with every intention to fill the small gap of monotony. What you hadn’t expected was to become engrossed with the novel, completely swept up in the mythical world it held.

“Yer almost finished that thing yet?”

Daryl breaks your train of thought, startling you back into the world of reality and you shrug.

“Got a few chapters to go,” you say, flicking ahead to see that you indeed have almost completed the fiction.

“You only started yesterday arvo’“ Daryl states, crooking an eyebrow in your direction, his hands continuing to work on the crossbow without a visual guide.

“What can I say, I’m a fast reader. You finished playing with that crossbow yet? You’ve been fiddling with that thing for the past 3 days now,” You are quick to shoot back at him, a smirk dancing across your lips in victory and Daryl scoffs, shaking his head in small amusement as he turns his gaze back to the item in his lap.

You finish your book just in time for Carol to leave the house, the older woman looking well dressed and holding a container of cookies. Both you and Daryl raise an eyebrow at her, silent questions being asked, and she pointedly ignores them.

“Have you even had a shower yet?” She asks sternly, giving the quiet man a stiff side glance that he shrugs off.

“I’ll hose you down when you sleep,” she threatens, “you are filthy Daryl, just take a goddamn shower”.

You stifle a giggle, biting down on your lip to hide your growing smile but you fail miserably, and a chuckle escapes you. Daryl hears it, glancing over at you with a bored expression but when he sees you smiling, he can’t fight back a little smirk of his own.

“You enjoy watching Carol take the piss out of me, ay?” he questions gruffly, and you laugh at that openly, throwing your head back to revel in the moment.

“Hell yeah I do. Who wouldn’t?” you tease, poking your tongue out when Daryl rolls his eyes.

With your book done, you throw it onto the table beside you and stand up, stretching out your arms as you unfold from your previous position. Your shoulders pop loudly as you rotate them and you groan with satisfaction, eyes closed as you continue to move your body. You miss how Daryl’s eyes selfishly gawk at the sliver of skin that is revealed as you stretch, your shirt just riding up to show the smoothness of your skin and he wonders how soft your body would be beneath his hands.

His eyes quickly snap back to his crossbow when he hears you hum, stretching complete and body limber.

“You off then?” he questions, not looking up at you as he speaks, fear that his eyes will reveal things he refuses to say.

“Yeah, might have a lie-down or somethin’“

“Gonna take one of yer ten million showers?” he teases you and a warm flutter erupts in his chest when his words make you laugh.

“Showers aren’t the enemy, Daryl” you remind him, a smile easy on your lips, but your tone is firm.

He grunts, explicitly refusing to respond and you sigh.

“Come shower with me,”

Those words catch his attention. His head whips up to look at you, eyes wide and stunned. You admire his surprised expression, noticing how his lips part ever so slightly and how he sucks in a shallow breath as he processes your words and intentions.

“Didn’t you hear the news? It’s safer to shower in pairs,” you joke, but your eyes convey understanding.

Daryl remains frozen for another moment or two, waiting for the punchline or the taunt but it never comes. Of course, it wouldn’t. He knows you. You aren’t like that, not to him. So, when it clicks that this isn’t an immoral joke and he allows himself to believe your gentleness, he nods, flustered but agreeing.

You give him a small smile, jerking your head in the direction of the front door before you turn to walk through it, not waiting for Daryl to move. You know he would follow, he has always followed you and he would follow you to the end of the earth.

By the time he reaches the bathroom, you already have the shower turned on. You have your hand beneath the stream, testing it, determined to have the perfect temperature and it is so unlike you, but at the same time, it is. He has seen you kill walkers with your bare hands, he has seen your unfiltered rage and your grief, and he has seen the special compassion you reserve for Carl and Judith. But it is rare for him to see you this gentle, this soft, this caring.

You know he is there, standing in the doorway watching you. You felt the heaviness of his gaze the moment he reached the second floor. But you don’t mention it, instead, you hum as you adjust the water before turning around to rifle through the cabinets for soap. The house is a treasure-trove of good items and the luxury of having a shower also extends to bathroom products. There are different types of soaps and shampoo to choose from and Daryl sees you fish out two items; a creamy soap bar and a green bottle. You set them both inside the shower before stepping back.

“Go on, get in” you gesture to the shower.

“Thought you were havin’ the first one?”

“And leave you with an opportunity to escape hygiene? Not a chance,” you retort

You know him too well, he thinks fondly. But an uneasiness sets in and you can see apprehension flit across his face.

“Daryl, you can shower. I won’t be leaving, I’ll be right here” you say tenderly, taking a seat on the closed toilet lid to prove your point. You weren’t going to leave him alone.

It’s reassuring, as much as Daryl hates to admit it. He isn’t used to having someone stand by him unwaveringly like you do. He hates to admit that he has come to lean on you, come to let you in. You have never pressured him, never forced his hand and for that, you unknowingly have his eternal gratitude.

“I won’t even look, so hurry up otherwise the water will run cold,” you announce, making a big show of closing your eyes and slapping a hand across your face for good measure.

Daryl cracks a smile at your theatrics, relief rolling off him in waves and slowly he begins to unbutton his shirt. Your ears strain to listen, to catch a sound so you can guess what he is doing. The rustle of a shirt confirms that he hasn’t bolted, and it makes you smile. What you don’t see is how Daryl’s fingers shake slightly as he works his belt undone as well as his jeans. He is stripping off his layers, both literally and metaphorically, and he hasn’t ever felt this bare, even with your eyes closed. He keeps his eyes trained on you as he edges towards the shower, his back never turning to reveal the ugly past that is marked into his skin and he only feels relief when he has the shower curtain drawn, letting it act as a barrier in all senses.

He has to admit; the hot water does feel heavenly. His sigh is, thankfully, masked by the sound of the shower and Daryl closes his eyes, tipping his head back and completely embraces the water. He stands there for a few moments, relishing in the luxury and the feeling of his muscles slowly unwinding, and he almost hates himself for putting this off for so long. He is so lost in heaven that he almost forgets that you are still sitting in the bathroom with him.

He pokes his head out, eyes falling on you and he smiles when he sees that you haven’t moved from your seated position, hands still covering your face but to keep you occupied, you bounce your leg.

It’s almost as if you know he is staring at you because you speak up,

“How’s the shower?” you ask

“Are ya comin’ in or what?” he ignores your question, now smugly watching your surprised reaction.

Gobsmacked, your hands fall from your face, mouth hanging open and your eyebrows raised in disbelief. This is the first time he ever hears you stutter.

“Wh- what?”

“Are ya gettin’ in or not? Ya expect me to leave you sittin’ and waitin’ for me?”

You nod, “Daryl Dixon, I didn’t expect you to invite me to shower with you”

“Sunshine, you did the invitin’ first”

“I never specified if I was to be in the same shower as you at the same time” you respond, shock fading quickly as your confidence returns and Daryl enjoys the transformation.

“Get in” he mutters and drops the curtain, standing back to leave you some room for when you come in.

You are quicker to strip than he was and although he knows you are coming, he can’t help but jump when you step into the cubicle. You notice, of course you notice, but as always, you don’t comment. Instead, you smile up at him with such a warm gaze, Daryl feels his heart clench. Silently, you grab the soap bar and lift it up, expressing your question through your look and he nods. You are gentle as you run the bar over his shoulders and down his arms, taking your time to sudd up your hands so you can run your fingers over each individual digit, cleaning them of the dirt and the grime that had accumulated. Daryl was silent during your endeavour but by the quickness of the rise and fall of his chest depicted his nervousness.

“Tell me if it gets too much” you murmur, eyes flicking to meet his and it amazes him how you don’t pressure him, letting him control his limits. It is his blind trust in you that allows you to be this close to him and you know how hard it is for the redneck to open up to you, to let you close to his turmoil.

“Nah, s’okay” he mutters breathlessly.

You continue on to his torso, rubbing the bar in circular motions and its satisfying to watch the water run dirty, revealing more of the gorgeous man in front of him. Daryl fears it will get awkward when you kneel down in front of him, eyes closed as he wills himself not to make a fool out of himself. Either or not you pick up on his anxious, you don’t say, but you avert your eyes from his lax cock, focusing on cleaning his strong legs. When you are finished Daryl offers you a hand, holding it firmly as he pulls you to your feet and once steady, he doesn’t let go.

“I can leave your back” you offer. The story of the scars isn’t new to you, but their appearance is. He hasn’t let you cast your eyes upon the monstrosities, barely able to look at them himself.

He is torn, gnawing at his lip as he tries to decide on an answer, but his silence is one you will accept. With a fond smile you shrug, reassuring him to the best of your ability.

“That’s okay, tilt your head forward, hun” you are quick to move on, distracting him from the dangerous thoughts that threaten to surface, and it works, the pet name is a pleasant sound falling from your lips.

He obeys, tilting his head forward and closing his eyes as the water runs down his cheekbones. The pop of the shampoo bottle alerts him to your intentions and a sprig of mint fills the steamy air. Your fingers massage his scalp as you clean the brown tresses and Daryl bows beneath your touch. He slumps forward, head resting upon your shoulder in full submission and you pressed a lingering kiss to his temple, fingers never ceasing their ministrations until they begin to cramp a while later. You don’t want to move him, savouring the weight of his body against yours but the suds need to be washed out, so you tap his shoulder. Daryl washes out the remaining suds himself before he looks down at you, guilt suddenly creeping upon him.

“Do yer want me... to, ya know”

Bashfully, he gestures to you, but you shake your head laughing.

“No Daryl, it’s fine, but thank you” you say sincerely, “now, let’s get you out of here and into clean clothes, hey”.

The shower gets switched off and the pair of you emerge from the stuffy cubicle. Daryl grabs the towels first, handing you one before wrapping his around his waist. There is no third towel to cover his back and he is painfully aware of that fact, tensing up as he realises that he is closest to the door and will have to turn around to walk out. Once again you amaze him, slipping by to walk out first and Daryl lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

When Daryl appears, he finds you in the small bedroom, stretched out on the bed with your eyes closed.

“Tired?”

“Warm showers make me sleepy” you confess, opening your eyes to look up at the man sheepishly.

He hums and remains standing at the end of the bed, hands tucked into the pockets of the old sweatpants that hang from his hips and takes his time to admire you. He doesn’t admire your clothes, although the sight of you in snug clothes makes the fluttering in his chest go faster; but he soaks in your comfortableness, your trust.

He doesn’t ask if you could move and make room for him, wordlessly you do it anyway when Daryl begins to climb onto the bed. He flops onto the mattress once he reaches the pillow, heaving a sigh as his body melts into the softness of the mattress. He rarely allows himself to sleep on it, leaving it for you to use while he takes the couch or the chair outside on the porch. And just like the shower, he realises how much he has been missing out on. And he is sick of it.

“Yer too good to me, Y/N” he mumbles, and you chuckle, shaking your head before you roll onto your side to face him.

“Nah, just doing what is right”. What you deserve.

You both fall silent, letting the post-shower haze settle over you and allowing your bodies to relax.

You are on the cusp of sleep when you feel Daryl’s hand slip into yours, calloused skin brushing against yours and instinctively you tighten your grip, Daryl squeezing back.

“Thank you” he murmurs.

You don’t say anything, fighting the pull of sleep and with a last-ditch effort you curl into Daryl, his arms sweeping you closer to his chest and cocooned in his security, you allow yourself to drift to sleep.

Alexandria may be weak, but it’s given you a safe haven, and maybe it isn’t all that bad.

#daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl x reader #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl x oc #twd #the walking dead #the walking dead imagines #daryl dixon imagines #twd imagine #daryl dixon/reader #twd imagines #daryl dixon fanfic #twd fanfiction #daryl dixon imagine #the walking dead imagine #ly-canthropewrites #fluff #sfw

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docholligay · 3 years

Text

Divided by Four: Thirty-Six

I AM DONE WITH THIS YOU ARE FREE OF HAVING TO SEE IT

Lena Oxton would never have another birthday, and this was an odd thing to think about.

It was one thing, for Tracer, to know that she was dying--she had known that for what seemed like an age now--but quite another for her to know that there were some things she would never do again. The early ones, she hadn’t known, really. The last time she would get on her motorcycle. When she would last trust herself to fly. That final walk down the hall without help from anyone or anything. These lasts had come without announcing themselves, and so Tracer had not gotten the chance to savor them appropriately. It was a mistake she was trying not to repeat, as she felt the sand slip through the hourglass now.

So it was comforting, in a way, to know that this would be her last birthday, even if it felt strange to admit. Tracer had resolved to drink in every instant of it.

She’d told everyone that it was silly and a little wasteful to bring her gifts, given the reality of the situation, and really all she wanted was to be around her people and drink a beer or two, have a few laughs, and for no one to get too misty-eyed. There were a number of things about dying that Tracer didn’t particularly care for, but one topping the list was the way people mourned her before she was gone, when all she wanted to do was enjoy whatever she had left without sadness. There was no point, so she thought, in being so sad over the last bits of something lovely that you ruined it for yourself. It was rather like a child whimpering while eating the last squares of a chocolate bar. So the only gift she had asked for, was for no one to cry in her view, and on that they had delivered.

But also, people had brought gifts. Nothing fancy, really, mostly soft pajamas and blankets, a nice lotion, a particularly plush backrest pillow she was already making use of, things that spoke to both the reality of the situation and the inability of the people who loved her to let it pass by without making the most of it. Her uncle had made her a coconut strawberry cream cake, and she’d even managed to eat some of it. Pharah had made sure to tell her she had better live long enough to use the thick flannel pajamas she’d bought, as she’d had her father send them from Canada.

“Or you’ll do what, exactly?” Tracer had grinned as she said it, “Piss on me grave? Well, I’m being cremated, so even that’ll feel a bit ‘ollow, now won’t it?”

Everyone had laughed, even Winston, who seemed to taking the whole thing rather hard, however much Tracer joked that he’d been taking care of her for the last ten years and really should enjoy his retirement. But mostly, it had been a good day for her, and if she was feeling a little misty herself, it was nothing but the idea that she was so deeply loved, and that not everyone got to experience that in their lives.

She was born under a lucky star, and the last year or so was only a bump in that road near the end of it, a bit like the jar before you leave the pavement. And even that was only her health, wasn’t it?

Moira could take her life--and as happy as she was knowing Moira died never knowing how badly she had hurt Tracer, it did sting a bit to know that was how it would go down in the books--but Moira had never managed to take anything more dear to her. Her family. Her friends. The general sense that she was loved and cared for. Even her mind was sharp and busy as ever, which admittedly made her body’s disobedience a bit more annoying, but she was grateful to have her wits. People would remember her as herself. That was important.

If anything, the relative frustration and pain of the last few months had made her feel all the more loved. Had showed that it must be true.

So nothing was all bad, really.

Night had fallen over London, and as tired as she was, Tracer still could not bring herself to go to bed. Winston had asked gently if she was ready, and she had just shook her head and told him she wanted to stay up awhile. It was nice, this deck she and Winston had put together on the roof of the place. He’d doubted her, when she’d suggested the project, and wondered how he would ever possibly use it, and told her there was no need to put the work in. Sometimes Winston had to be talked into having nice things for himself. He probably would have approved the project so much earlier if he’d known how much time Tracer would spend up here.

The smell of London filled her lungs. She should be more afraid of death, she supposed, but she could never quite let go of the idea that even when she was gone, she wouldn’t be. Not that she believed in an afterlife, really, but she also didn’t not believe in an afterlife, and she’d seen London built on its own ashes so many times, that she had to imagine that even when she was gone, the bombed out wall of what was left of her would be built around, become part of a Pret or a pub or even just a ruin where the pigeons nested.

What was tough was knowing when the building needed to come down, which she hadn’t yet quite figured out for herself. It was one thing to be gone in an instant, a bomb dropped, a moment and then just the rubble. It was another to sway into disrepair, to try and pinpoint the day you had to tell those who had lived in your heart that there were homes elsewhere, and it was time to seek them. When the little joys of being were outweighed by the reality of decay.

“Lena?”

The lightness she felt at hearing her name in that soft brogue was enough to tell her that day had not yet come, and she would keep on for awhile yet. Tracer thought she might live one hundred years, and never tire of hearing Emily’s voice. It was impossible.

“It’s grown late. You’ll tire yourself.” A kiss on the top of her head, and then Emily sat down on the edge of the daybed where Tracer found herself spending much of her time lately.

Tracer chuckled. “Too late. Doesn’t take much anymore, it’s just,” she shook her head, “a bit aggravating, right? There’s so much I’d like to do in a day, not that I can do much of it anyway, but I’d like to at least imagine it. I get frustrated so--”

Emily nodded kindly as she rubbed Tracer’s shoulder, tight with the constancy of spasms that ran through it, but as Tracer’s eyes flicked upwards, she saw the tears on the edge of Emily’s eyes. Not the time to talk about it. Never seemed to be.

Emily would miss her, and there was no real getting around that, no matter how she tried. Tracer had already spent plenty of time writing and rewriting a letter to be published when she was gone, Pharah sitting alongside her on her small laptop, to try and let Emily know in the most public way that she’d like her to move on, and wasn’t only saying it, that she meant it, nagging over the words until Pharah had offered to remove the burden of waiting for death from her.

Pharah joked like that, more than most, because Pharah was kind, in her way, and knew Tracer needed someone to be able to joke with. It was a favor to her. When Tracer had told her, she had asked to be treated the same as ever, and to Pharah’s eternal credit, she came very close.

“Never mind me.” she grinned “Tired and rambling, right? It was a wonderful birthday, Em. Marvelous, really. Been thinking back on me birthdays---I’ve been so lucky. I am so lucky. Thank you, for everything you’ve done, for it.”

She was tired, and her body jerked and shook, but she was still, in this moment, the master of a failing plane, and managed to but her hand on Emily’s leg. Emily curled up next to her and rested her head on Tracer’s shoulder, letting out a little sniffle as she drew her arm around her.

“It’s not fair for you.”

“Me?” Tracer kissed her forehead “Oh, none of that now. Not for me. What’s fair, any’ow? Should ‘ave been killed a thousand times over, love, but I wasn’t, Was I? Plenty were,” she muttered, half to herself, “And I noone in whole of me life ‘as ever wanted to ‘ear it but I’ve ‘ad the sense for years that I wasn’t precisely meant to get me pension. Call it a self-fulfilling prophecy if you like but I--really, who it isn’t fair to is you. Life’s been more than fair to me.”

Emily said nothing, but wiped her eyes and took Tracer’s hand in hers.

“I mean really, think about it. Not a bad life at all, on balance. Pilot. Top Flight Instructor. Commander. Bloody ‘ero of London. I lived more in thirty-six years than most people would if they ‘ad twice the time. So it’s all right. I made it all count. Course I want more, but, I do tend to rush through things, don’t I? Just me way, don’t stop to admire the view much. Some people are like that, like fireworks, or, oh I don’t know, a stick of gum. And,and at the fag end of it all, I get to be in London, taken care of instead of sent away, when by rights I should have been shot down, or shot through, or lost forever. To be sitting on a London roof in a pile of pillows? Not precisely the gulag, love, and I won’t be greedy. Em, look at me, please.”

Emily sat up and looked at her, and Tracer squeezed her hand.

“I lived long enough to find you, and to love you.That’s all that matters. I ‘ave led a bloody charmed life. I ‘ave. Truly. I could not possibly ask for more.” she grinned, “That’s a lie actually, would ‘ave loved to get all the way through to the King so as I could watch his bloody face when I refused the knighthood publicly, but,” she chuckled, “We can’t ‘ave everything.”

Emily gave a little chuckle and shook her head. “You’re awful, Lena. Happy Birthday. My prince charming.”

“And it really was, Em. It is! What do you say,” she winced as she tried to sit up a little, her body jerking her back against the back of the daybed, until Emily balanced her, “What do you say, we ‘ave Win come up with that last bottle of champagne? Toast to ourselves till midnight? Just the three of us?”

Emily nodded, the teeth poking thought on her smile.

“That’s what I’d like to see, tonight. Thank you love. Just us three, and your smile.”

The clouds and fog and too much light of London parted for a moment, just a few stars peeking through the grey and haze. They sparkled down on Tracer, who sparkled back a bit, the diamonds of the natural world. Bright against the night.

Bit of light in everything.

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sooibian · 4 years

Text

Dittany

✨ part of the Spellbound collab series with insanely talented writers @hkynm @fullsuninbloom @blackberrykai and @j-pping

✨ pairing: hufflepuff!kyungsoo x ravenclaw!oc/reader ft. ravenclaw!chen

✨ themes: fluff, mild angst, slow burn, cheesy couples

✨ genre: hogwarts!au

✨ description: broken bones and a tedious detention - can I still say that this is the best christmas i've ever had? it’s because I found magic in him - the big eyed, dark haired, hufflepuff boy. funny I say that as a witch! but sadly, good things don’t last forever.

✨ word count: 16.5k

✨ tag list: @eggsodose @christiandosworld @imgonweast @is-that-baekhyuns-shirt @changshapatrol @thatanonymousgirl-as14 @his-mochi-cheeks @charmedbaek @xiusoomygod @crescent-iak @gdaystays @mangobaek @keonaforever21 @staryyugy @hyckrens @yixing-jaebeom @halfbloodkjm @thepoeticfirefly

With a baggie of Caramel Cobwebs grasped between her fingers, he saw her head towards Gladrags Wizardwear. He feigned untied shoelaces as his friends Baekhyun, Chanyeol and Chen made a beeline for a table at The Three Broomsticks. He stayed just so that he could see her for just a little bit longer as she walked down the quaint but bustling lane of Hogsmeade. It baffled him how different she looked to him every time he saw her.

Yet she looked so familiar.

A sound of girls giggling reached his ears suddenly making him more aware. A jet of purple light shot in her direction and she stood frozen, right in the middle of the street, face buried in hands.

It enraged him to see her like this, weak and lost. With a flick of his wand he unbound her legs. Misty eyed, she hesitantly looked over her shoulder for a fleeting moment before hurrying into the safer confines of the shop as though nothing had happened.

This was their first ever trip to Hogsmeade and he thought J. Pippin's Potions worth the detour.

Rat tails. Porcupine quills. Billywig stings.

The Hair Raising potion had its benefits, after all.

A few drops of it in their pumpkin juice and those girls went around school with their hair standing on end. It made them the laughing-stock and not a single soul suspected the innocent looking, third-year Hufflepuff boy.

Professor Trelawney's got me feeling like I’ve downed an entire flask of Felix Felicis.

Maybe it was the fine sherry I brought her for Christmas and if I'm being honest she was most likely under the influence of some at the time - a bit too early in the day for such an indulgence but that’s just my opinion. Anyway, she has prophesied that today’s going to be a momentous day for me. She said it would “change the course of my destiny”. Jupiter has entered Pisces owing to which I’ll be able to open myself up more to the world. I shudder at the thought but her comically large, moony eyes bore a distinct hint of euphoria so I’ll take her word for it. And I don’t care what “opinions” other students - or even Professors for that matter - have of her but I’ll always believe that Divination is a highly compelling (albeit misunderstood) branch of magic.

And Professor Trelawney is a truly gifted Seer.

With a spring in my step, I'm practically galloping down the Great Hall after a hearty breakfast and Professor Flitwick is unfeignedly in his element. A peppy tune on his lips, he blossoms golden baubles out of his wand, trailing them over the branches of the new dozen of frost covered fir trees akin to a Maestro weaving a symphony with his baton. Christmas has always been an ethereal treat for the eyes at Hogwarts. The Castle is covered in several feet of silver snow, in the Great Hall thick streams of holly and mistletoe criss-cross the ceilings and enchanted snow falls warm and dry from it. While I do feel a little lonely sometimes, I'd rather spend the holidays here than back home with Gran.

Fourteen years of having to raise me all by herself after Mum and Dad passed away couldn’t have been easy. I reckon she could do well without having to unnecessarily fret over me during the holidays. And I could do very well without her persuasions, asking me to live up to the dreams my parents had had for me. Hopefully, she's enjoying herself with a cup or two of Firewhisky in the evenings in the company of her Ministry friends and gorging on those delicious Ugly Christmas Sweater Cookies and Liquorice Wands that she so relishes!

"Looks great, Professor!" I say to Professor Flitwick and with a cheery laugh he waves his wand bearing arm at me. I duck at the sudden attack of tinsels but one golden bauble nests in the loop of my topknot anyway. I think I'll keep it and use it for Hagrid's gift.

Hagrid!

A glance out the window behind the staff table and I resolve to brave the weather and pay him a long overdue visit. I have a little something for him and old Fang. I won’t lie, it helps to be the granddaughter of an influential woman for Hagrid’s Christmas presents don’t come easy.

Another great thing about Christmas is that I have the castle all to myself. The dormitory is vacant and the Common Room is far emptier than usual. And I’m spared the everyday torment of hushed whispers and giggles and the occasional “practical jokes”. Carefully, I bring Hagrid’s present out of its little pen to measure it up against the stray bauble. Not his size. He rapidly blinks his beetle brown eyes at me and crawls up my arm with a certain urgency, nestling into the crook of my neck. “Aww Mr. Twiggles”, I plop the Bowtruckle down onto my lap and wrap a pink ribbon around its knobbly brown arm. Placing him under an airy bronze cloche, alongside a huge slab of butterbeer fudge, I bid him adieu.

***

My butt is freezing, I’m pretty sure I heard something crack and it was definitely not the ice. A terrified Bowtruckle is smack in the middle of my face while I lie amidst crumbs of Butterbeer Fudge. Since this could be his only shot at freedom, Mr. Twiggles scuttles into the Forbidden Forest. Taking stock of the situation I realise that Fang’s present has now become one with the snow, I’ve lost Hagrid’s present to its natural habitat and probably snapped a few of my bones in the process.

But this is the least of my concerns.

My literal fall further down the school’s social structure has a witness - the Muggle-born Hufflepuff boy, who belongs to probably one of the most influential cliques in school. I don’t think much of them, to be honest. They’re just a babbling band of bumbling baboons. But can’t I have a day go by without being humiliated? Is that a lot to ask? Hagrid’s hut is barely ten feet from here. I wouldn’t mind breaking all of my bones in his company. He would’ve probably offered me some tea and his infamous rock cakes before carrying me to the Hospital Wing. Out of all the places in Hogwarts... out of all the places in the world...did this wide-eyed bloke really have to be here? Exactly in this moment? And just how many students is Hagrid friends with anyway? And why him? I swear I’ve never seen the boy smile. Not even when he’s with his rowdy friends.

This can’t be it.

This can’t be the ‘momentous day that changes the course of my destiny’. This is just like...any other rubbish day and it’s crushing my soul. I'm starting to believe that Divination is a whole lot of hogwash and Professor Trelawney is indeed a fraud. But at this point, I can’t feel my limbs and I really, really could use some help.

Squinting hard, the Muggle-born rushes to my aid. My lips begin to quiver and I feel warm tears trickle down my temples, further wetting my already damp hair. He stoops down and his eyes widen with surprise and recognition and he scoffs at my immobilized state. As he’s helping me up, I wrap my right arm around his shoulders. An imperceptible smile tugs at his lips as his left arm firms around my waist and before I know it, I’m standing on my own two feet - or one. My weight is supported by him and my good right leg. But before I can begin to thank him, a sharp pain shoots to my head and I see little stars buzzing around his ears. Maybe they are real!

“Wrackspurts”, I mumble and observe his lips form the shape of a heart when curved into a wide smile. His smile is….bewitching.

And it's the last thing I see.

***

Madam Pomfrey strongly insists on keeping me caged in for the night. She’s implacable and my protests are met with a standard taut response, “Broken bones are particularly dangerous in winters. You’re staying the night.” How do I explain that I feel fine and keeping me in will only make matters a LOT worse for me.

I have to go see the Hufflepuff boy.

I have absolutely no memory of the events that unfolded after I literally started seeing stars. Not Wrackspurts. Did he perhaps carry me to the Hospital Wing? I have no answers and this isn’t exactly the kind of topic I wish to broach with Madam Pomfrey. My throat dries up at the thought of him struggling to bring me all the way up here and it makes me actively consider a transfer to Beauxbatons - if that is indeed possible. Because this cannot be happening right now! Sixth year has been quiet and I’d like to keep it that way, thank you very much.

I don’t know if the Hufflepuff boy will keep it down for me. Will he tell his friends about it? Will I become the talk of the town even before school resumes? Will he keep it to himself if I cut a deal with him? I don’t mind helping him out with schoolwork or something.

My delirious train of thought is interrupted by three rhythmic knocks on the slightly ajar double door.

It’s him.

He’s standing in the doorway, twiddling a rectangular purple box in his hands, shifting his weight nervously from one foot to the other. Does he expect me to invite him in? What’s the protocol? Smoothing out the wrinkles in my blanket, I sit up slightly and crane my neck to find Madam Pomfrey who seems to be in her Office. Pursing my lips into an awkward smile, I turn to look at him and shrug noncommittally. He takes it as his cue to enter.

“This is for you.” He says in a low mellifluous voice which tastes like honeyed milk and gingerly places the box at the edge of my bed. Caramel Cobwebs. My favourite! He finds a seat at the edge of the other end of my bed.

“Thanks, you didn’t have to...and thank you for everything. I -”

His deep brown eyes suddenly meet mine and I lose all sense of speech.

“It was Hagrid who brought you here”, he says nonchalantly, drumming his fingers on his knees while allowing his large eyes to survey the sterile, sprawling infirmary.

Then why is he here?

“Aren’t you missing lunch?” I ask, unwrapping the box and offering the constellate of bite sized confectionery to him. “I’m not too hungry”, he says, guzzling down a few anyway. A soft smile touches the corners of his mouth.

Silence echoes in the Hospital Wing, save for our muted nibbling. It’s soothing in its sense of comfort as neither of us is particularly chatty. And that’s just as gratifying as the sweet treats.

“Looks like we have company!” The stern but kind Matron swooshes out of her office, scrutinizing the boy from top to bottom, making him shift uncomfortably in his seat. She’s never been too fond of visitors. I remember the day I tagged along with Chen last year to visit his human banshee of a friend - Baekhyun.

A doxy had apparently sunk it’s double row sharp front teeth into his arm, injecting him with its venom. His dense idea was to experiment with doxy venom to appear ill just so that he could cut a couple of lessons with his dimwitted oaf - Chanyeol. While the latter went unscathed and even managed to extract an ounce of venom out of the doxy (cute fairies he liked to call them), the human banshee had to be brought into the Hospital Wing to be administered the Antidote to Uncommon Poisons. I only visited the boy who cackles like a goose to get a little look-see of what doxy venom could do to a person. But to my absolute dismay, he looked... peachy, with an annoying boxy grin plastered across his face. The Matron shooed Chen, me and the big oaf out in a matter of minutes. It’s not that I blame her. I would’ve probably done the same in view of the racket that ensued amidst their boisterous conversation.

Madam Pomfrey brings out a small vial of brown liquid and applies a few drops of it on my elbow. I hadn’t noticed the nasty wound my fall had left on it, up until then. A greenish smoke billows upward and it quickly clears out to make the wound look several days old and new skin stretches over what had been a deep cut.

“Dittany!” The Hufflepuff boy and I say in unison.

“Well done! 5 points each to Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw!” Madam Pomfrey jokes as she peers over her spectacles and her gaze flits between him and me. I catch his heart shaped smile again. And for some reason, makes my stomach contract and my heart go into a somersault. Or maybe it’s the effect whatever Madam Pomfrey’s got me under.

The Matron raises her wand and points it at the table adjoining my bed. A large plate of sandwiches, two silver goblets and a jug of a cold beverage appear with a pop.

It's honeyed milk.

She retracts into her office without pressing on him to leave and for that I am grateful. We share sandwiches in silence as a mildly bitter citrus aroma of Dittany wafts through the space between us. The plate endlessly refills itself but we’re both satiated by the third fill.

“I’m Kyungsoo, by the way. Sixth year.” He says in his dulcet tone and I take a huge gulp of the sweet nectar out of the goblet.

***

Madam Pomfrey sets me free with not one but two warnings. Avoid slippery outdoors if you’d like to enjoy the Christmas feast and Don’t count your owls before they are delivered. I’ll admit the second one is a bit difficult to stomach since I had my eyes trained on the door for the better part of the morning. It comes in fine print at the bottom of the letter of acceptance - steer clear of parent-less weirdos who believe in Divination and Nargles. Of course the sweet and quiet Kyungsoo received the same letter.

After having sent Hagrid a Christmas greeting via an owl, I head over to the library. Its musty fragrance clears my mind off trivial sentiments. Sixth year is no child’s play and I need to read up on Apparition to avoid having a limb splinched especially after yesterday’s disaster.

“Umm...HI!”, a chirpy voice startles me and I almost collapse into the Restricted Section. This voice is a little too sprightly for a deserted library and its owner looks like someone who does not belong in school during the holiday season. Her dazzling smile perfectly complements the twinkle in her eyes. She’s one of those girls but she seems nice? My puzzled expression asks her the obvious questions.

“Sorry! Professor Slughorn asked me to give this to you.” She hands me a rich parchment. It’s a letter addressed to me in the most exquisite cursive inviting me to dinner held by Professor H.E.F Slughorn.

Bleaaargh!

The girl is still here, eyes beaming with curiosity, “It’s for the Slug Club, right? What’s it all about? Well... I’ve always wondered.” Her voice trails off in an awkward giggle.

“Be my guest!”

It’ll help to have a slightly known, apparently friendly face in an obnoxious crowd.

***

I’m no stranger to the opulent ways of prestigious wizarding families but this isn’t something one would expect to see in a Professor’s office at Hogwarts. It’s barely even an office! It’s an enormous tent bathed in a dim orange of the sunset with its ceiling and walls draped in emerald hangings. The deep melody of violins drowns the frantic squeaking of house elves who are obscured by the heavy silver platters of the finest hors d'oeuvres.

A circular dining area is set up right in the middle of the room where most of the invitees have taken their seats. There aren’t too many compared to last year. No Warlocks, no Vampires. Just a handful of students with their guests and a couple of past students - Slughorn’s proteges of course - who’ve managed to carve a name for themselves all thanks to the powerful connections he’d helped them forge through this very same Club. Or so he’d rather believe.

The tap on my shoulder strikes me with the realization that I’m still stood at the entrance. It’s my chirpy guest! The fifth year Gryffindor Prefect. One awkward small talk later, we find our seats at the ostentatious table.

Despite the grandiose, this is a rather intimate gathering. But judging by Professor Slughorn’s enthusiasm, the turnout is certainly not off-putting to him. He drones on about his overachieving handpicked students and I let my mind wander into the distance while Miss Prefect is certainly taken by the charms of this first-class motley. Well, at least someone’s liking it here.

“Kyungsoo, m’boy!” Slughorn jumps mid-feast at the sight of the newest entrant to this coalition, almost causing me to choke on my roast duck, “Welcome, welcome!”

At a gesture from Slughorn, he sits down in the empty chair next to me and mutters a velvety ‘hullo’ in my direction and I’ve suddenly lost my appetite thanks to the butterflies in my stomach. He’s dressed casually in blue denims and a beige knit sweater yet he’s shining brighter than Sirius among all these boys in their finest ensembles.

“This young man is the only sixth year I’ve ever seen who’s managed to concoct the Draught of Living Death”, he takes a dramatic pause to peer at his guests over his spectacles before meeting my eyes, “flawlessly!”

Almost everyone at the table acknowledges Kyungsoo with a smile or a slight nod, save for a few overtly arrogant Purebloods who merely grunt in response or completely ignore his accomplishment. I, on the other hand, have my eyes trained on the roast duck to keep my erratic heartbeat in check.

Slughorn gears up for another act, “So tell us, Mister Doh, what exactly does your family do in the Muggle world?” His smile is cold, unwelcoming.

“My Mum is a chef, Professor...my parents own a restaurant.” Kyungsoo answers.

Slughorn contemplates on his answer for a while with a ‘hmm’, “A Muggle-born, eh?”, he lifts an eyebrow, “But the fumes from his cauldron almost lulled this old man into a deep slumber”, he chortles, wagging a sausage like finger, only to receive cold silence in response from everyone else except one invitee.

The feline eyed man laughs the loudest at Slughorn’s pathetic joke. One might think it’s probably out of sympathy. But it’s not. He seems to have actually found that funny.

Slughorn introduces him as Minseok Kim and goes on to sing praises about this former student of his. Slytherin. Excellent potioneer. One of the youngest registered animagi.

His animagus is a cat.

Minseok interrupts Slughorn’s discourse with an uncomfortable laugh showcasing his wide gummy grin, “You give me too much credit, Professor!”

“You’ve made me proud, my son! So tell us how your career as a Magizoologist is treating you? Well, I hope? Your uncle Soo Man Lee, a notable Warlock and a dear friend of mine, wrote to me saying that you happened to cross paths with an obscurus during one of your recent travels! That must have been...” Professor Slughorn shakes his head in horror and awe as his voice tails away.

“It’s certainly a story for a different occasion, Professor. Although, it happens to be one of my most memorable experiences.” Something about Minseok’s discomfit demeanour tells me he’d rather have a tête-à-tête with the obscurus than with Professor Slughorn. I take an instant liking to this man.

“Minseok, we happen to have an aspiring Magizoologist in our company”, I loathe the nickname. It’s a garb. It’s a lie. But the conversation seamlessly steers towards me as a dozen pairs of eyes follow Professor Slughorn’s snivelling gaze. Clearing my throat, I say to Minseok, “I’m delighted to meet you - ”

“My dear, if I may ask and I hope you won’t mind”, Professor Slughorn interrupts me, per usual. Kyungsoo lets out a barely audible annoyed grunt and I hold my breath in anticipation of what he’s about to say next. Slughorn has a knack for broaching treacherous territories with utmost eloquence. I didn’t think it was possible for me to despise this gathering any more than I already do. I know where he’s going. I know what he’s going to say next. He’s going to play the Devil’s (Gran’s) Advocate.

This is not a party. It’s an intervention which serves as an offhanded reminder of my parents’ gruesome deaths.

“You come from a lineage of Aurors par excellence. Your grandparents with whom I had the great fortune of exchanging notes and secrets in these very same classrooms. Your parents…. a tremendous loss to our world…”

At this point, I’ve lost Professor Slughorn.

He’s testing me again to see if I have any of my parents’ flair. I do not. Magizoologist is just a veil that conceals my seemingly purposeless life. I’m not sure what I want to be. Or who I want to be. If there’s one thing I know it’s that I don’t want to end up like my parents. Neither am I brave nor am I self sacrificial. Their deaths, I’ve come to terms with. It’s the torture they went through that keeps me up most nights - the unimaginable pain of the Cruciatus Curse before they were engulfed in blinding green light. My throat seizes up and I chew on the insides of my cheeks to feel pain that’s more superficial.

My sweaty palms clutch at the hem of my silk lilac dress. I feel hesitant fingers gently graze the back of my left hand, steadying the tremble. Judging by my lack of protest, Kyungsoo’s grip around my hand courageously strengthens.

In subliminal comfort.

I don’t feel cornered anymore.

KYUNGSOO

Oh I shouldn’t have.

OH BOY I SHOULD NOT HAVE!

I’m not a pervert. In my defense her hand was right there! Trembling. Astray. Seeking shelter.

Asking to be held.

She didn’t say a word to me after that ridiculous party. I couldn’t muster the courage to say anything to her, either. What could I have said? I’m sorry? That would’ve been dishonest. I wasn’t sorry about it at all. Are you alright? I didn’t want her to feel any more uncomfortable than she already did. So I left it at that. Like I always do.

Because I’m a coward.

She swooped out with her friend as soon as the snoozefest was over, leaving her food completely untouched. In fact, I didn’t catch her taking a bite out of anything ever since I arrived. Her slender fingers were gracefully wrapped around a silver goblet the entire time.

It’s always been like that with her. She always needs something or the other to physically hold on to. The straps of her bag, books, remembralls, whatever she can find. I notice these little things about her. I always have. But to her I’m only a face in the crowd. The very same crowd she fights shy of. I don’t blame her. It is quite rare for pretty girls to notice me.

And she’s ethereal.

Year One

My heart was hammering in my chest as I was ridiculously close to missing the Hogwarts Express. Partially because the oddly named Platform was nowhere to be found and I was starting to think of the entire thing as an elaborate prank. And when we did end up finding the way to the Platform by following a snooty wizarding couple who seemed to be seeing their daughter off, I quite frankly lost my mind at the prospect of having to run through a solid wall to get to it.

I said a final word of my goodbye to my teary-eyed mother.

Earlier in the day, her theatrical sobfest went on for hours after she progressed from outright denial and came to terms with the fact that witches and wizards do exist and that her only son is in fact a wizard. He wasn’t going to take over his parents’ restaurant business like she’d always hoped he would. Honestly, at this point he’s not entirely sure what his future beholds but he’s a wizard and is indeed very happy about it.

But I didn’t dare say this to her.

I pretended to be upset about having to practically move out at the age of eleven. In all honesty, I was mildly upset but far more excited about this school I’d, obviously, never heard of before the Letter arrived - Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

But it wasn’t long before all of my bubbling excitement was reduced to a pile of rubbish.

I had lost my little pouch of wizard money which I thought I'd carefully tucked into the back pocket of my jeans only to find out about it seconds prior to having to pay for the strange but oddly tempting treats. I felt myself shrink under the kind old lady’s sympathetic gaze as I put my little confectionery treasure back to where it belonged. On the top of her trolley. Suddenly, the embarrassing rumble of my stomach was drowned by a welcome jingle of coins.

The second year boy in my compartment - who later introduced himself as Baekhyun Byun - paid for the treats instead. I didn’t like him at first since he had a permanent smile plastered across his face, was giggly and extremely chatty. He’d told me all kinds of sorting stories which made me want to take the same train back home. I discovered his annoyingly loud chewing habits while sharing a stack of Cauldron Cakes with him. But I guess a happy stomach makes one truly tolerant.

We tried to offer Pumpkin Pasties to the girl in our compartment who had her face buried in a book right since the moment she boarded. Baekhyun even tried to strike up a conversation with her, multiple times, but to no avail. She’d only respond in nods and slight smiles.

After a point, we gave up. There’s no cure to snobbery.

There was an empty feeling in the pit of my stomach even after having annihilated five Chocolate Frogs, a dozen Liquorice Wands, six Pumpkin Pasties and two Cauldron Cakes. It wasn't even the first day yet and I’d lost ten Galleons in wizarding money which equalled fifty Pounds in muggle money which equalled two meals at our restaurant.

The rain thickened as the train sped further north. Baekhyun pulled on his long black robe, gave me all of his Chocolate Frog cards and scurried ahead with his trunk leaving me alone with the oddball. We were nearly there.

“Here”, she said, thrusting a heavy, knotted pink cloth in my hands before exiting the compartment in a rush.

It was five Galleons neatly wrapped in a cloth that smelled exactly like the “farewell” cake Mum baked me.

Vanilla.

***

We didn’t have to wrestle a troll or turn a fat rat yellow for the Sorting Ceremony like Baekhyun said we’d have to.

“RAVENCLAW!” the Hat bellowed and the girl from the Hogwarts Express found her place amidst the brains at Hogwarts (as Baekhyun liked to call them) and that didn’t leave me surprised at all.

When the strict witch called out my name I almost stumbled upon a step on my way up to the wooden stool. For no particular reason the word “Ravenclaw” rolled off my tongue and the Hat contemplated, “Intelligent and hard-working, eh? Hmm….where should I place you...I see. I see! HUFFLEPUFF!”

The table next to Ravenclaw cheered me on as a ghost, the Fat Friar, swooshed past me in what was supposed to be a bone chilling embrace. I caught her eyes and she gave me a little wave.

Ravenclaw...at least I knew where to find her. I’ll return her money but not the piece of cloth.

It is a reminder of home.

Year Two

Am I invisible to her?

Every time I’ve so much as smiled at her she’s returned it with an unreadable expression like that lady in the fake painting at our restaurant. If I approach her and she doesn’t recognize me, I’ll be making a complete ass out of myself. Anyway, she probably thinks I’m not good enough to be seen around with but third-year Chen is. People say she belongs to one of the oldest wizarding families and she sure does act like royalty. I guess, five Galleons to her is nothing but a drop in the ocean.

***

While Professor Sprout thinks I’m the next Tilden Toots - a celebrity Herbologist and Potioneer, Professor Snape’s way of expressing his satisfaction with my abilities in Potions was with a scowl and a barely audible “five points to Hufflepuff.”

Most of the students think of Potions as a lot of hard work but to me, it’s really not. I don’t entirely blame them. The classes are held in a dungeon and the Potions Master looms over us with a murderous intent but if you ignore all of that it’s just intricacies of timing and stirring techniques.

The Hair Raising potion was disgusting to concoct especially since one of the key ingredients was rat tails and three counter clockwise stirs left the cauldron with a sickening green residue causing the entire dungeon to smell like a dead rat.

I must admit, Hogwarts is one weird school. What on earth would I need this potion for?

Year Three

Whenever I’ve tried to avoid the joined at the hips duo Baekhyun and Chanyeol, I’ve found myself in their ear splitting company. By now, I’ve resigned to my fate. My fellow Hufflepuff Yoongi isn’t up for much these days. To be honest, he’s always liked to stick to the confines of the Hufflepuff dorm and that’s kind of a downer.

So I spend almost all of my free time in the company of the Perpetually In Detention duo and their Ravenclaw friend Chen. And I realise that I can never be Chen. Chen is perfect in every way. He’s polite, he’s intelligent, and at such a young age he’s got his life planned out. He wants to work for the Ministry of Magic. Which, I believe, is a cakewalk for the likes of him. He’s also kinda good looking. While we’re all struggling with embarrassing bulk sticking out of odd places and less than appealing skin, he could very well replace Gilderoy Lockhart for the next issue of Witch Weekly.

***

When I saw her head toward Gladrags Wizardwear, fingers clutched at a baggie of Caramel Cobwebs, I feigned untied shoelaces as Baekhyun, Chanyeol and Chen made their way into The Three Broomsticks. Suddenly, a jet of purple light shot in her direction and a sound of girls giggling reached my ears. She stood frozen in the middle of the street, face buried in hands and with a flick of my wand I unbound her legs. Misty eyed, she hesitantly looked over her shoulder for a fleeting moment before hurrying into the safer confines of the shop as though nothing had happened.

This was our first ever trip to Hogsmeade and I thought J. Pippin's Potions worth the detour.

Rat tails. Porcupine quills. Billywig stings.

The Hair Raising potion had its benefits, after all.

A few drops of it in their pumpkin juice and not a single soul suspected the innocent looking, third-year Hufflepuff boy.

Year Four

Hagrid seemed quite proud of his crate full of Blast-Ended Skrewts. They were cuddly creatures, very useful and made for exceptional pets.

If you looked at them with Hagrid’s beady brown, affectionate eyes.

Everyone in class was visibly disturbed at the sight of them. Yoongi was quite close to disappearing into the Forbidden Forest. But that’s just him - slimy, foul smelling, shell-less lobsters or not. I wouldn’t be surprised if he chose, out of the blue, to live as a hermit in the company of centaurs. Not sure if he’s aware that they’re averse to humans.

Smiling, she took two graceful steps towards the crate as the rest of us took two steps back. Then four, then six as her waist length hair rippled down her shoulders and sunlight bounced off the silver trinkets in her ears. Perhaps motivated by her deep affection for Hagrid and anything non-human, she dipped a piece of frog liver to tempt the freshly hatched Skrewts.

It was pointless. Skrewts don’t have mouths. Mine is carefully locked away in a little pen under my bed. Honestly, I don’t care whether it survives the semester or not.

Anyway, she ended up earning a roaring applause from Hagrid and ten points for Ravenclaw.

I found myself following her to the hideous crate like my legs had a mind of their own while Yoongi gaped at me in horror. I don’t know what struck me but I’m pretty sure that I don’t love Hagrid enough to get stung by an ugly lobster.

But she had her eyes lovingly trained on the Skrewts the entire time and my valiant battle against a six inch burning, biting and stinging hybrid went completely unnoticed by her.

Would I have to transfigure into an ugly Skrewt to get her attention? Or gulp down a vial of Polyjuice Potion to look like Chen?

I’d still lack his charm.

Year Five

How Chanyeol and Baekhyun managed to advance to the sixth year is anyone’s guess, really.

Because at this point I wish I had a Time Turner. Twenty four hours in a day are not enough for what the O.W.L.s demand. I’ve got Potions, Arithmancy, Charms, Transfiguration, Herbology, Care of Magical Creatures, History of Magic and Defence Against The Dark Arts.

And Divination is entirely her fault.

There’s one thing, though, that Trelawney’s “Inner Eye” was right about - Everything is not as bad as it seems, my dear. It’s true. Professor Slughorn isn’t half as bad as Professor Snape. Although he’s a little vain and self-serving, I have a better shot at earning an O in Potions with him than I could have ever had with Snape. Where Snape would dismiss my nearly perfect brews with a grunt, I manage to earn some real points for Hufflepuff with Slughorn.

Professor Sprout, ever so confident in my abilities, had laughed away my Career Advice session by calling me the next Tilden Toots. Her face fell slightly when I told her that I aspired to be Tilden Toots the Potioneer and not Tilden Toots the Herbologist.

But my dreams won’t materialize if I don’t have near perfect scores in Charms and Arithmancy and these are the two subjects that have kept me away from my “happening” social life.

I’d been haunting the Hufflepuff common room with my fingers in my ears, muttering soundlessly and my dear friend Yoongi chose to “take a quick catnap for a refreshed mind” every chance he got. I haven’t seen them in a while - Baekhyun, Chanyeol, Chen and their Quidditch friends Kai and Sehun. With twelve (failed) study schedules strewn on the floor and six weeks left until the exams, I seized my copy of Defensive Magical Theory and stepped out of the dorm for some fresh air and mindless chatter.

Last I’d heard, they’d managed to earn themselves a week’s worth of detention for setting off Filibuster’s Fireworks in Filch’s office.

What I witnessed in the corridor on my way out made me stop dead in my tracks. Chen had his arm around her shoulders as they walked along the hallway laughing and talking animatedly. This was the happiest I had ever seen her in all these years. At the sight of them, I felt a paralyzing dread seep into my consciousness.

I hated it.

I hated to see her happy. With him. A part of me saw this coming but I could’ve never prepared myself for it and I immediately regretted leaving the unwitting confines of my Common Room.

Seething, I went in the other direction, taking a detour for the Quidditch pitch, to find those clowns.

With them, I could very well drift in and out of conversations. While I lacked patience for most of their rubbish and I usually brought my earmuffs along, today was different. I needed to hear something refreshing to get my mind off the horrible fragmented flashbacks of what I’d witnessed just minutes ago. It’s probably nothing and they’re just friends but the nagging rebuttal to my ‘just friends’ argument is making me restless.

To my absolute horror, Chen breezed into the pitch with an annoying grin on his face, cheeks flushed. I felt the knot in my stomach tighten.

“Guys! I asked her out and she said yes!” He announced to the world in his usual thunderous scream invoking a deafening response from the rest of them. Slamming my copy of Defensive Magical Theory shut, I rushed to the common room, ignoring Kai calling out for me.

Year Six

Study hard and you will be rewarded. Fail to do so and the consequences may be... severe.

And rewarded, I was. With 6 Os, 2 Es (Arithmancy and Defence Against the Dark Arts) and 1 A (Divination). Yoongi had managed to scrape through with a decent O.W.Ls score as well. And “Chen’s girlfriend” had topped the year, per usual. With 8 O’s and 1 E in Defence Against The Dark Arts, having messed up one counter jinx in the practicals. She’s strangely under confident when it comes to this subject.

My house-elf friend Winky smuggled in a congratulatory vanilla cake - a Muggle recipe I’d helped her recreate.

***

So turns out “Chen’s girlfriend” isn’t Chen’s girlfriend.

I mean, Chen has a girlfriend but it’s not the girl from the Hogwarts Express. It’s the Ravenclaw Head Girl. Because I spent nearly half a year sulking, slogging away in the library, feeling betrayed for no particular reason, despite my well above average O.W.Ls score I felt like a complete idiot.

The bearer of good news was Chanyeol Park.

Who enraged me and made me want to kiss a Blast-Ended Skrewt on its non-existent mouth at the same time with, “Of course he’s not dating that Ravenclaw oddball. He’s dating the Ravenclaw Head Girl.”

Smacking him on the head with my copy of Advanced Potion Making, I decided to spend the upcoming Christmas at school.

It’s now or never.

***

She’s SUCH an idiot!

A freezing, injured, drenched, clumsy idiot.

A Bowtruckle whirred past me into the Forbidden Forest as I rushed to help her off the ground. Tergeo, I muttered to siphon the blood off her elbow and hoisted her up not long before she collapsed into my arms.

She’s a cute idiot whose pain is… my gain.

“Why aren’t you home for the holidays?”

Howling, a chilly breeze engulfs us but the panoramic view of the landscape from the Wooden Bridge is well worth it. As is the mildly attractive Hufflepuff boy who’d asked, very shyly, if he could see me here.

“My parents are always busy with the restaurant during the holidays, anyway. Thought I’d use this time to prepare better in advance for N.E.W.T.s”, says a red-nosed, shivering Kyungsoo.

He’s ambitious as he is kind. “So, are you?”

“Hmm?”

“Preparing for... N.E.W.T.s?”

“No. Something’s kept me busy.” An imperceptible smile tugs at his lips and I find myself unconsciously mirroring him. It’s freezing out here but my cheeks are ablaze.

“What has?” My tone is unwavering but his rich pause has me dreading as well as anticipating the answer.

“The Patronus Charm”, he says, “All I can manage is formless silver vapour.”

Oh.

“I could help if you like.” I turn to face him to find his confused expression uncoil into a toasty smile.

“You can conjure an actual corporeal Patronus?” His excitable voice is not as deep as his regular talking voice but it’s melodic anyway.

Nodding, I say, “Let’s go.”

Kyungsoo’s eyes aren’t exactly trusting. I’ve brought him to the seventh floor and we’re gawking at a tapestry of trolls ridiculously bent in a plier. If I were him, I wouldn’t trust me either. But Hogwarts is an ancient castle and I’ve spent a good amount of time recceing it’s rooms, hallways, and everything in between. Yet, I discover something new, every time.

Last year, I discovered this - The Room of Requirement - or as Meady likes to call it - the Come and Go Room.

“Okay, so we’re going to walk past the area of this door, thrice, thinking clearly of what we need.” Pointing at the wall opposite the funny tapestry, I say to Kyungsoo but a look of sheer confusion mixed with worry clouds his face.

“We’re going to think of a large, dingy classroom where we can have our lessons without anyone disturbing us.”

His expression is short of saying, ‘You’re crazy. Goodbye.’ Despite that, he valiantly follows my instruction.

After the third pass we’re in a spacious classroom completely devoid of any furniture, save for two desks.

“Ahhh”, hands on hips, he gapes in surprise surveying the dimly lit room, “but...we could’ve practised anywhere. Why here?”

“For the effect?” My fingers clutch at the edge of the desk as a knot tightens in my stomach and I find myself hoping that he stays.

His ha-ha-ha echoes in the room and his voice is at it’s high pitch again, “Shall we?”

Nodding, I take the centre of the class, “So the incantation is ‘Expecto Patronum’”

“Of that, I am aware.”

“Great now concentrate hard on a happy memory. I know it’s going to be tough without an actual Dementor or even a Boggart to practise on. But let’s give it a try, alright? Professor Flitwick taught me using a Boggart last year. I didn’t leave him alo -- sorry I’m rambling. Okay, happy memory... now...go!”

Kyungsoo squeezes his eyes shut and his face screws up in concentration. With a swish of his wand he stutters, “Ex-expecto Patronus!”

Nothing except peals of laughter echo in the room.

“Lets go again. Together now.” I say patting his shoulder.

Signalling each other with a nod we try again, “Expecto Patronum!”

A lynx rises out the end of my wand, trotting across the room before diffusing into nothingness. While Kyungsoo manages to issue a not so tangible cloud of silver.

A few tries later, he manifests something visibly stronger but he’s not quite there yet. And we’re both exhausted. I fish for a Chocolate Frog in the pockets of my cardigan and hand it to him.

“This charm is ridiculously advanced! How about we try again after Christmas?” Leaning on one of the desks, he offers dejectedly, nibbling at the Frog’s head.

I gladly accept it.

***

Owing to the small number of students that have stayed back this year, the House tables have been put aside and a single table has been set up for the Christmas feast. As if it were the most natural thing to do in the world, Kyungsoo comes and sits next to me. I hope he doesn’t hold my hand like he did during Slughorn’s party or maybe I hope that he does. I hope we do get to hold hands often and discuss what happened at the party. But we’re both great at pretending that nothing unusual did. The Gryffindor Prefect is somewhere on the other end of the table, chatting to a fellow Gryffindor. And the spread, as always, is sumptuous.

Digging into a delectable roast turkey I ask Kyungsoo, “What’s Christmas like in the Muggle world?”

“Isn’t half as exciting as it is here. For starters, we have no Wizard Crackers. Or silver Sickles hidden within puddings.” He says toying with the cardboard tube moments before it went off like a canon, covering him in a cloud of blue smoke. A flurry of white mice scamper down his legs and scurry out of the Great Hall.

His mouth drops, inviting a roar of laughter from the rest of the table and he chooses to steer clear of the Crackers for the rest of the Feast.

He insists on dropping me off to the Ravenclaw Common Room, “I’ll see you again tomorrow? Six in the evening, the Room of Requirement?”

It’s a date?

***

Today’s class wasn’t nearly as bad as the previous one but God knows Kyungsoo’s in a dire need of practise.

We sit on the floor after two scarcely productive hours with our stash of Chocolate Frogs pooled in the space between us.

“Here’s something I don’t get about Muggleborns. How are your parents okay with sending their children away to an entirely different world? Doesn’t matter what Professor Dumbledore has to say, I refuse to believe Hogwarts is one of the safest places in the world. We have moving staircases, a murderous tree, Quidditch, and Filch!”

His laugh reverberates in the empty classroom, “It’s not much of a trade off, really. The Muggle world has its own set of issues.” He unwraps a Chocolate Frog and offers it to me, “You live with your grandmother, right?”

“My fierce, retired Auror, grandmother. Yes. And you?”

“With my parents. I’m an only child. And you’re right. My mother wasn’t very keen on sending me away but she couldn’t risk their restaurant being reduced to a pile of ash every time I threw a temper tantrum.”

“You don’t look like the temper tantrum sort.”

“Ah you underestimate me.” He chuckles, “so the holidays end soon and I don’t have a Patronus which means our classes will have to continue. You’re okay with that, right?”

“Very much”, I nod but an upsetting finality pulls at me.

“Is there anything...you’d like to do on the last day of the holidays?” He fixes his gaze on my feet.

“Do you have something in mind?”

“Do you want to...well I was thinking if...I need to procure some Wolfsbane from the Forbidden Forest would you like to come with?”

“Are you daft? Do you have any idea what sorts of -”

“Creatures dwell in the Forest? Yeah, I’ve been there, multiple times.”

“And you haven’t been caught? Mauled? Battered?”

He sighs, “Unfortunately, not once.”

Meeting his unflinching gaze I welcome my impending doom, “Okay...maybe I’ll end up finding Twiggles in one of those Wiggentrees but don’t abandon me if Werewolves come for us.”

***

I guess there’s a first time for everything. But it’s my first time flouting a rule and getting caught. My adventurous friend from Hufflepuff seems absolutely unperturbed by the ghastly smile that’s spread across Filch’s face. And anything that makes Filch this happy can’t be good news. Kyungsoo shoves the bunch of Wolfsbane down the pocket of his jeans and I just stand there as an unwitting accomplice to his dumbassery. To my dumbassery. I should’ve never agreed to this. I didn’t even have any luck with Twiggles. But then again Bowtruckles are master camouflagers. What was I expecting?

“Follow me”, the sadistic old man wheezes and my legs feel bound by shackles. Kyungsoo tugs at my arm and teary eyed, I slowly shake my head. He laughs mouthing, ‘It’s nothing.’ Maybe it’s nothing to him considering the company he keeps. What if I get expelled? Where will I go? It’ll be enough reason for Gran to disown me but this bespectacled charming boy doesn’t have a lot to lose now, does he? He can waltz back into his Muggle world and work in his ‘restaurant’. Of course he’s an exceptional cook if he trades recipes with freaking house-elves! I can’t end up having a life worse than squibs. Boys are trouble unless they’re Chen. I literally never should’ve. What of this was a trap all along? I’m SUCH a fool!

I find myself in the part of the vast echoing Entrance Hall I’ve deliberately avoided in all these years. It’s foul smelling, really dull and a cat menacingly meows at us while curling around her Master’s feet.

Room 234-00. Filch’s office.

Coughing, the caretaker points at the chains and manacles that are hung from the ceiling, “I keep ‘em well oiled in case they’re needed. The Forbidden Forest, eh? Brave enough for Acromantulas and Werewolves, are we?” His face is barely inches away from Kyungsoo’s and I feel a sudden pump of adrenaline, “Sir, please, it was a mistake. We promise to never venture into the Forest again. We promise to never venture out of our own dormitories again. Please, please just let us go!”

Filch is taken aback by my plea and Kyungsoo has pursed his lips, holding in a laugh and I feel stupid.

With the sound of a crack, Filch’s equipment of torture comes crashing to the floor. Mrs Norris’ tail shoots up in fear and a raucous laugh echoes in the room souring Filch’s mood, “PEEVES!”

“Nasty Filch! Leave the luuuuurve birds alone! Leave them alone! Loony woony filthy Filch!” An invisible Peeves’ annoying cackle resounds before ceasing with a deafening crack.

Filch is boiling in rage. I tilt my head to look at the slightly experienced in disciplinary matters Kyungsoo and judging by his sullen expression, we’ve had it.

Does he think that I somehow jinxed his great expedition to the Forest? Because it’s been two days since the start of semester and there’s no sign of Kyungsoo. Neither in the Great Hall, nor in the classes I share with Hufflepuff. Is he avoiding me now that his friends are back? The lump in my throat aches.

“Oww!”

Chen greets me with a smack of a book on my head, “I MISSED YOU, GOBLIN!”

I’ll never get used to Chen’s incessant need to announce everything to the world to get his point across but seeing him makes me realise just how much I’d missed him, too. Despite his dig at my height and an underhanded compliment to my brain. He slumps into the chair next to me, activating his ability to speak like a banshee. Not very different from his white haired Gryffindor friend.

“So tell me. How was Christmas? Did you get the set of Wizard Chess I sent you? We should play sometime. Thanks for the Floo Connection, by the way! It was really thoughtful of you and I love it! My darling loved it a lot, too but I had a tough time explaining it to my folks. So how was Christmas?”

I wait patiently for my closest friend in school to finish babbling before telling him what I think he’d like to hear about my little adventures. Or the information Kyungsoo would rather have me share. The nagging feeling that he’s been avoiding me weighs me down like a rock.

“So you broke your leg, told Slughorn off and earned yourself Detention with a Hufflepuff boy who happened to be in the Forest at the same time as you. All of this in a matter of two weeks? Wait, why were you in the Forest again?” Chen is amused but also a little suspicious.

“I told you! I was bored. I went looking for the Bowtruckle!” I argue, needlessly.

“Bored? Didn’t you have to read up on Apparition? Also, you of all the people should know how elusive Bowtruckles are, Miss Magizoologist!” I cringe at the nickname. “And who is this Hufflepuff boy?” I wouldn’t be surprised if Chen were a Legilimens.

Letting out an exasperated sigh I answer, “Some Kwangsoo something?”

“Glasses? Kinda short? Squints a lot? Brooding?”

“So you know him, Mister Tall Guy?” I ask, inviting another smack on my head.

“Yes, through Baekhyun. I mean, haven’t you seen him with us? His name is Kyungsoo, by the way.” Chen’s not particularly suspicious now which bolsters my confidence to spew rubbish.

“No I haven’t. It’s probably because I can hear you guys before I can see you and I prefer not to violate my eyes like I do my ears when I’m around any of you. I hope this answers your question.” I think it was a bit much but Chen breaks into a fit of laughter.

“Then you’ve probably not heard him, either. He isn’t a lot like us.” He contemplates, “but don’t you look around in class? You haven’t ever noticed him before? He’s in the same year as you! You’re ridiculous!”

Of course I’ve noticed him.

Every time he’s tried to talk to me, return my money, earned points for his house or even a sneer from Snape. Every time Madam Pomfrey has cooed at him. Even when he braved feeding a Skrewt. I’ve seen him in the hallways, in classes, in the Great Hall.

But to know someone is to invite heartache and I’ve had my fair share of it.

“You mean he isn’t noisy like the rest of you. And no I haven’t. It’s probably because he’s not as attractive as a Merperson or as lithe as a Basilisk.” I lie. He’s not anything like the magical creatures I’ve studied about. He is a human. And humans are too tricky for my liking. Two weeks with him, two days without him and I seem to have lost my marbles.

Guess, I am pathetic if not ridiculous.

“Come to think of it, I haven’t seen him around either”, Jongdae ponders.

***

“You’ve been avoiding me.”

Maybe it was too direct but I need to get this weight off my chest. I can’t spend every Saturday until the end of term with him in close quarters, clearing out Filch’s old files (the Muggle way) with animosity looming between us. Peeves is enough trouble with his water bombs already. And Kyungsoo’s silent treatment is simply too much.

He brings me Caramel Cobwebs, holds my hand and refuses to talk about it, insists on being tutored, spends Christmas with me, lands me in Detention and starts avoiding me as soon as his friends are back.

“I caused you trouble and you seemed so disturbed by it. I’m sorry. I’ve not been avoiding you...I just thought maybe you wouldn’t like to see me again.” Mumbles Kyungsoo, dropping Filch’s File Number 27 on the floor, leaving a mess of loose, dusty papers.

‘Butterfingers’ here isn’t right at all. I’ve been dying to see him.

I help him clear the mess by re-filing the records of the 27th file in alphabetical order.

“I’m not mad at you. I was a tad bit worried, that’s all. This is my first time being...punished and none of this is your fault. I’m sorry if I made you feel like that.”

His little smile and an understanding nod makes my heart flutter. Snapping out of it, I read out an amusing record from a random file, “at least we’re not pickling rat brains in the dungeons.”

His eyes grow wide in horror, “What?”

“Sehun Oh and Kai Kim for bewitching snowballs to hit Professor Snape!” I summarise.

Kyungsoo guffaws, “Yes! This was last year. Baekhyun had dared them to it and those idiots thought Snape wouldn’t notice. They ended up reeking of dead rats for two weeks after that. Nobody would go near them! Not even Baekhyun.”

I put the file back with an ‘ahh’, “So Kai Kim, Sehun Oh, Baekhyun Byun are your friends right? And Chen, too?”

“Yeah, Chen and Chanyeol Park. Why?”

Of course, the Great Oaf.

“Nothing, you’re quite different from them.”

“How so?” Resting his chin in his hand, Kyungsoo inquires and avoiding his eyes I reply, “Well, you’re not very noisy or mischievous?”

He chuckles, “I’m not noisy that’s true. But I literally took you to the Forbidden Forest and it’s the reason why we’re here today sifting through these records. Will you still say that I’m not mischievous, Miss Ravenclaw?”

“I take back my words, Mister Hufflepuff”, I need to get away from this sweet talker, “Now let’s look for more, shall we? Filch certainly has your friends’ adventures chronicled in these files.”

“We’ll probably find something on Chen, too.” He says quietly.

“No wayyy! Chen’s perfect.” I protest.

He throws a file onto the desk, creating a cloud of dust, “What if we do end up finding something about him here, in these records? Then what?”

“Then I’ll….do whatever you ask!”

Why! Why?

“It’s a deal!”

***

Kyungsoo and I have been seeing each other fortnightly for the sake of Dementors. Let’s just say if he were required to actually fight one off today, he’d end up having his soul sucked out. Does the boy have no solid happy memory or what? Or maybe I’m just a terrible guide.

In class, we’re cordial. But somewhat distracted.

We spend all of our Saturdays together. Turns out he’s a couple of weeks older than me which means we both qualify for Apparition Lessons. The lessons are scheduled for Saturday mornings and we spend the rest of the day in Detention.

The first lesson was...quite unforgettable.

For Kyungsoo, me and whoever was witness to our idiocy. Professor Flitwick positioned Ravenclaws into a line as did Professor Sprout with Hufflepuff which had Kyungsoo and me standing next to each other with the requisite distance of five feet between us. The Instructor from the Ministry waved his wand and old-fashioned wooden hoops appeared on the floor in front of us.

“Destination. Determination. Deliberation!” The man who was a white wispy version of humans, squeaked.

“Concentrate upon the destination now. Which is within the hoop. Then focus on your determination to occupy the visualized space. And when I give a command, on three, turn on your spot, feeling your way into nothingness, moving with deliberation!”

Kyungsoo gave me one furtive glance and I lost all sense of Destination and Determination.

“On my command….one….”

I spun on the spot, lost my balance and fell over and Kyungsoo crash landed into my wooden hoop. With our Professors’ eyes on us, I felt myself melt into a puddle of embarrassment.

The inexplicable tension crowding the office during Detention that day left hardly any room for conversation. Which was kind of okay considering the ground we covered with Filch’s wretched files.

Although, the next lesson found us positioned at the two opposite ends of our respective House lines by Professor Flitwick.

Despite being in the same room, I missed Kyungsoo.

Transfiguration hasn’t been particularly eventful with Kyungsoo. With Professor McGonagall’s hawk-like eyes on us, we don’t dare to so much as shoot a glance in each other’s direction.

But last week was different.

In a lesson that included conjuring a flock of birds out of our wands, the entire class managed a few feathers, some gross mutations, and severed heads. Everyone except Kyungsoo. He’d succeeded in creating several twittering birds in his third try. Which was not so great for me since the little yellow chirpers zoomed in my direction and circled around my head, singing merrily. This continued even after most of the class, including Professor McGonagall, had already left. His idea of an apology for the inconvenience was flashing his heart-shaped smile.

I guess it doesn’t take a lot for me to forgive him.

***

It’s nearing the end of the third month of the semester and there’s no dirt on Chen.

Like I’d said, he’s perfect. We’ve found volumes on the other two, though. Chanyeol and Baekhyun. How they’ve not been expelled yet is anyone’s guess. These delinquents make my little Forest excursion look like a joke.

They’ve set off dungbombs in Snape’s dungeon, cursed each other and ended up having a slug attack right in the middle of their Astronomy practicals, got caught sneaking out of their dorms after curfew only eleven times, transfigured McGonagall’s desk into a ferret to ‘showcase their Transfiguration prowess’, set off Filibuster’s Fireworks in Filch’s office, distracted Filch by jinxing Mrs Norris with Tarantallegra - her legs spasmed wildly out of control, making her appear as though she were dancing.

No wonder they’re the only students Peeves gets on with.

This little vault of information made Kyungsoo exceptionally happy after moping around for not having anything on Chen, yet. He’s going to use these embarrassing incidents (one of the punishments included cleaning out the bedpans in the Hospital Wing without using magic) against the two of them, he says.

Detention and shared classes is the only time Kyungsoo and I get to see each other since sixth year is no cakewalk.

Free periods come by few and far between and are used to keep up with the vast amount of homework we’re being set. We’re studying as though we have exams everyday and lessons themselves are far more demanding than they used to be. Especially since we’re required to use Nonverbal spells now in every lesson that requires incantation. I often catch Kyungsoo’s motley around school. Somehow, they’re everywhere but he’s hardly ever to be seen with them. Working hard towards his ambition to become a Potioneer, I suppose. I wish I were just as passionate about something.

Sixth year is an anomaly.

Professor Sprout says we’re allowed to swear loudly in today’s lesson since we’re going to be dealing with one of the most dangerous plants ever - Venomous Tentacula - a green, spiky, toothsome magical plant with mobile vines that tries to grab living prey. Kyungsoo quietly stations himself next to me in the greenhouse inviting snarky sideway looks and hushed whispers from a couple of Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws around us. “She’s latched on to him now”, sniggers a Ravenclaw boy and I notice Kyungsoo ears turn scarlet.

A pair of thick gloves on, Professor Sprout takes her place behind a trestle bench in the centre of the greenhouse, “We’ll be extracting Venomous Tentacula’s essence for Professor Slughorn’s experimental Potion No 7 today. Now, who can tell me how we should proceed to extract essence out of a plant that could try to strangle you?”

Kyungsoo’s hand rose in the air like it always does during Potions and Herbology, “By using the Severing Charm, Professor.”

“Excellent. Ten points to Hufflepuff”, Professor Sprout beams at her favourite student, “We’ll use the Severing Charm but Nonverbally. Which will stun Venomous Tentacula and sever its mobile vines. Along with me, on three. One...two...”

I nearly squeal as one of the Tentacula’s sharp fangs grazes my arm. Kyungsoo notices and in a state of panic tries to stun my plant for me only to get seized and bitten by his own. “Diffindo”, I flick my wand at Kyungsoo’s plant, flailing it and flouting the nonverbal spell rule but it’s too late for any of that. The plant’s poison, although non-fatal, has started working on Kyungsoo.

His skin turns bright purple, knocking the wind out of me.

Professor Sprout rushes him to the Hospital Wing.

***

On Professor Sprout’s special request, Filch has begrudgingly exempted Kyungsoo from this week’s Detention. I saw him for Apparition this morning and we’d both managed to, with Destination, Determination and Deliberation in mind of course, land into our own hoops.

Kyungsoo looked perfectly fine. Which is to say the purple of his skin from yesterday has been washed over by the roses of his cheeks and the honey of his skin. Madam Pomfrey was required to keep him in only for the day as Professor Sprout was quick to act and the poison hadn’t caused much harm. I feel like a bad friend for not having visited him since lessons ended in the a.m. with Astronomy but he says he was out in a couple of hours at most.

He’s planned to spend the rest of the day with his friends who he’d not had a chance to catch up with off lately.

By late afternoon I’d unexpectedly fallen into a state of blissful slumber on one of Filch’s old files. Coughing, I woke up engulfed by dust. I had to admit, Detention was boring without Kyungsoo and it’s honestly starting to scare me how used to I gotten to his presence, the faint scent of eucalyptus that trails after him and the ambrosial warmth that infiltrates through his seemingly tougher exterior.

But at the same time I regret misreading him. Mistrusting him or sometimes trusting him too much. He’s nothing like I thought he’d be. His simplicity is comforting but at the same time it is truly baffling. Maybe it’s okay to not give it much thought and let Jupiter do its celestial dance while I do mine by recreating damaged detention records.

#1116

>> Chen Kim

>> Lack of concentration in Charms resulting in production of a hoselike jet of water instead of a fountain from his wand, knocking Professor Flitwick flat on his face in the process

>> Lines - ‘I am a wizard, not a baboon brandishing a stick.’

>> Issued by Professor Flitwick

>> Points taken: None

I do a double take when I read the name.

Chen! Chen? Chen in Detention? How did I never know about this? Even if it’s just lines it is still a punishment. And how did The (then) Ravenclaw Prefect Chen mess up a Charm in Professor Flitwick’s class? I must know. But Kyungsoo’s got to see this first! I quickly replicate the record on a spare parchment and shove it in my bag and with a flick of my wand, I place everything exactly where it belongs in Filch’s office. What’s he going to do about it when he finds out? Give me another detention? Bring it on!

Throwing caution to the wind I allow my feet to take me where Kyungsoo said he’d be. Swiftly descending down the staircase, I exit out the side door down the corridor off the Entrance Hall and run towards the courtyard feeling the harsh winds tugging against my skin.

It’s unusually cold for the first day of April.

Seated between Chanyeol and Baekhyun, he’s laughing away seemingly at the two lanky boys - Kai and Sehun who’ve got their wands at the ready. The courtyard is oddly vacant, save for these four rioters and Kyungsoo.

Even Chen’s not here.

All banter comes to an abrupt halt when Kyungsoo’s eyes meet mine, his expression solid as a rock. With a barely perceptible shake of his head he’s signalling me to walk away from here and maybe this is what it feels like being punched in the gut. Four curious pairs of eyes flit between Kyungsoo and me and I feel too numb to even get out of there. Did I make a mistake being here? Is he too embarrassed to acknowledge me in front of his friends? The frigidity of his expression is eating away at my insides. Moments of complete stillness later I sprint out of the courtyard amidst wolf whistles and peals of laughter.

Throwing my bag over my shoulder, I wipe the angry tears rolling down my cheeks and vow to never see this doe eyed pretender again.

KYUNGSOO

It’s been two weeks since the incident.

Two whole weeks of her arriving after and leaving before me for our shared lessons. She’s even charted up a Detention routine which limits our interactions to curt nods and dismissive grunts. Needless to say, I still don’t know how to conjure a corporeal Patronus. She thinks she’s the only one I could’ve asked? Not Baekhyun. Not Chanyeol’s Slytherin friend. Just her?

So much for her big Ravenclaw brains.

She walks around all high and mighty displaying her knack for embarrassing honesty but in the moments of truth she plays ostrich. I wasn’t trying to avoid her. I would never. But she’s a complete idiot who’d rather believe otherwise. An idiot who’ll never look into my eyes to feel what I feel. Even if she does, she’d just never accept it. It took me five and a half years to get her to talk to me. And if it takes just one misunderstanding to drive her away like that, I’m not sure if I want to try again.

The only two things I’ve gained out of my short lived acquaintance with Kyungsoo Doh are Detention and a new foul nickname “the girl who follows Kyungsoo around.”

I hear it everywhere I go. The Great Hall, the corridors and the Common Room isn’t very forgiving either. So all thanks to Kyungsoo, I’ve retracted into my wretched shell. I arrive late for lessons and swoop out like an owl as soon as it’s over. I spend every free period in one corner of the Library and try to avoid the Common Room as much as I can.

All these years I spent pretending like the cute, short, portly boy I met on the Hogwarts Express didn’t exist were far better than the last couple of months of letting him into my small Universe. In all honesty, I’ve started to loathe him. It takes immense self control for me to not have his pretty face eat slugs every time I cross paths every time I lay my eyes on it.

“Now, this one here….who can tell me what this is. My dear boy, Kyungsoo?” Holding a vial of liquid pearl in the air for us to see, play-acts Professor Slughorn. Another potential victim of my out-of-character slug attack.

“It’s Amortentia”, Kyungsoo’s voice reaches my ears from the far end of the dungeon.

“It is indeed. It almost seems foolish to ask”, he says, bringing the vial to my eye level, “but I assume you could tell me what it does?”

“It’s a love potion, Professor.” I say.

“It’s not just a love potion, sir. It’s the most powerful love potion in the world.” Kyungsoo offers and I feel the heat rising up my cheeks. I hate having this volley regarding a love potion with Kyungsoo.

“Excellent! And how did you recognize it, my dear?” Slughorn directs his question to me.

“By its distinctive mother-of-pearl sheen.”

“And?” His theatrics redirect to Kyungsoo.

“And the steam rising in characteristic spirals.” His dulcet tone echoes in the gloomy dungeon.

“Well, well, take ten well-earned points each for Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw”, says Slughorn genially, “would you two please be kind enough to come forward?”

Kyungsoo and I take, in what it seems like, ages to be stood on either side of Slughorn, arms over our chests, looking in opposite directions.

“There is one more key characteristic --”

“It’s supposed to smell differently to each of us, according to what attracts us”, Interrupting Slughorn, Kyungsoo and I garble.

“So to demonstrate”, Slughorn brings the vial closer to my face, “my dear?”

Consumed by the heady steam rising out of the potion, I clear my throat, “I can smell honey and...eucalyptus and….” Dittany. But I leave it at that, “That’s all Professor.”

“Very well, Mister Doh?” Slughorn quizzes.

“Sleekeazy’s Hair Potion…..Vanilla and …..Dittany.”

***

‘Evanesco!’

With that my last bottle of Sleekeazy vanishes in thin air.

“What are you doing up so late?” Chen’s groggy voice makes me jump but I counter, “What are you doing up so late?”

“Early. Up so early. It’s three in the morning”, yawning he waves his Charms textbook in front of my face, “Protean Charm.”

“Vanishing Spell”, I say pointing my wand at the empty table in front of us.

Chen relaxes into the chair next to mine and I let my gaze wander around the deserted Common Room. It really is a work of art encapsulated in all the blue and bronze. The stars painted over the domed ceiling, shine the brightest at this hour of the night, waltzing gracefully across the midnight blue carpet. If they were my stars, they’d wobble and fall owing to their two left feet. Could they, in the very least, give me a reason for this nagging ache in my chest?

‘Aguamenti!’

Drenched and dishevelled by a jet of cold water that shot out of Chen’s wand, I silence his raucous laugh and shower him with the choicest expletives before lifting the spell and drying myself.

“WHAT WAS THAT FOR!” I demand.

“You seemed so lost I was tempted. It’s what my dad uses to wake me up when I oversleep, you know? A nice cold bucket of water.” Chen’s snicker causes me to silence him again and he continues to blather soundlessly. How is this idiot so energetic at three in the morning!

“I’m going to bed”, wearily, I get up to leave and wave my wand at him.

“Wait! Stay”, says Chen, “It’s been quite a while!”

Groaning I slump back into the chair without further protest, “You’re right...so how’s our Head Girl doing?”

“She’s doing great. We’re doing great! She’s signed up to intern with the Ministry this summer under a certain Arthur Weasley...The Misuse of Muggle Artifacts office.” Chen beams and making me want to pinch his cheeks in adoration.

“Congratulations Chen! Ah but I’m not surprised. She’s always been as bright as a button.” I can’t help but coo at these lovebirds. At how absolutely smitten they are with each other while I suffer with an inexplicable tug of longing.

“And you, not so bright. Stopped following Kyungsoo around, have we?” Putting on his ‘big brother cloak’ he quizzes me with a raised eyebrow and I shrink back into my chair out of embarrassment, “You know about it?”

“The whole school’s talking about it!”

“I’ve stopped ‘following him around’ now why isn’t anybody talking about that, eh?” My anger is misdirected at Chen.

“He’s been talking about that. About how you’ve been acting like he’s invisible. A notch below satisfactory behaviour, am I right?” The low rumble of his voice thunders.

“You’re defending your stupid friend here! So much for being unbiased, hah!” Seething, I argue.

“You’re absolutely right Dung Brains I am defending my stupid friend here which is you. Now tell me, airhead, what’s it called when two wizards have their wands pointed at each other, in a combative position.”

I groan, he can’t really be asking me that but the urging silence is uncomfortable.

“A duel”, I mumble.

“You, my dear, were walking straight into a battlefield of hair-brained blokes who were surrounded by stink pellets, dungbombs and fireworks. It was only natural for Kyungsoo to ask you to skedaddle, make a run for it...save your life! If only you’d have let him explain?”

Guilt courses through my veins and I find myself in the defensive, “But then why didn’t he just tell me instead of giving me that terrifying look? I thought he’s ...I thought he didn’t want to see me...and..and why didn’t he do anything when those great prunes started laughing at me? Also why do they keep causing trouble everywhere they go? Do they want to fill up Filch’s office with their records before they graduate? It only means more work for me. And for Kyungsoo.”

“They were celebrating a Muggle custom, April Fools’ Day as per the wise counsel of their frog brained leader Baekhyun and Kyungsoo was only trying to protect you. And you were too obtuse to see that. Why won’t you give him a chance? He’s one of the good ones, you know? And those prunes aren’t too bad either. They were laughing not at you but at him...they’re just happy for their friend.”

“Happy? Why?” My heart goes into a wild frenzy.

“You should ask him that. We’re going to be at the Three Broomsticks for Baekhyun’s birthday celebration on our trip to Hogsmeade this Saturday. So naturally, your Detention is suspended for the week. Come along?” He eyes me expectantly.

“Not in a million years”, I deadpan.

“Don’t be stupid”, with a flick of his wand he makes the three bottles of Sleekeazy’s Hair Potion reappear, “and live a little.”

***

On Saturday morning I went down for breakfast feeling thoroughly depressed but trying my best to act normal. Kyungsoo was seated with Yoongi at the Hufflepuff table. He was stealing glances at the Ravenclaw table before his eyes met mine. Pursing his lips he nodded slightly in acknowledgment. For a fleeting second I had a strange desire of joining him at the Hufflepuff table but I quietly slipped into my seat besides the fifth year girl who’s been tutoring Kyungsoo’s friend Kai and has been a tad chipper ever since.

The largest portion of my headspace has been occupied with an internal debate on whether I should apologize to Kyungsoo or not. But I’ve noticed how he’d not been trying too hard either. If I handed him the Detention routine he went along with it without a single word of protest. If I’ve been ignoring him in class he hasn’t been exactly forthcoming. The familiar sense of finality sets deep into my bones and I’ve lost my appetite. I gulp down my tea and slip out of the Great Hall to pay Hagrid a long overdue visit.

They never tire of it.

The two boys from Slytherin provoked me to strike them with the Twitchy-Ear hex. They’d found it particularly amusing to call me by my stale nickname as I made my way down to Gladrags Wizardwear to buy Hagrid a new moleskin robe.

He’d been exceptionally understanding despite my despicable behaviour. Not having visited him in nearly six months and communicated with him only via a flurry of owls, I had no idea Fangs had been suffering with distemper. Kyungsoo’s been helping out with a self prepared brew to keep him stable. Explains why he’s been frequenting Hagrid’s hut. Also explains why he didn’t come see me on the second day that I’d spent in the Hospital Wing.

And my attitude towards him explains exactly why he chose to keep the truth about helping me get to the Hospital Wing that day.

I don’t know how to thank him or apologize to him. Maybe he’s just better off without me.

I am here in Hogsmeade on a whim.

As the sun fades into a deeper blue my feet stop outside The Three Broomsticks and I’m desperate to see him. But he’s at a friend’s party and I’d only be making it awkward for everyone.

“Hullo”, a familiar honeyed voice reaches my ears making me stop dead in my tracks.

Taken by surprise, I turn and tip my head back slightly to look up at the large eyed boy, his face bearing that lethal heart shaped smile. I hug myself despite the warmth of May wishing I could make myself smaller.

Having rehearsed an entire apology speech in the shower in the morning, I found myself strangely tongue tied at the sight of him. He prods me to walk the quaint streets of Hogsmeade by his side.

“I’m sorry”, staring into the distance, I muster with a giddy head and a seized up throat.

“No. I’m sorry”, says Kyungsoo as his hand slowly finds mine, inviting stares from passersby, “I should’ve...communicated better. But promise to never shut me out again? I couldn’t take it.”

Fireworks go off in my head at the sudden contact, “No, no I’m sorry I should’ve trusted you and… I promise to never shut you out again.” I couldn’t take it either.

“So what are we now?” He interjects, lacing his warm fingers with mine.

If only he could hear the thunder of my heart, “We’re friends again?”

“Friends who fancy each other? Isn’t that a bit odd?”

“I-- umm, I--”.

“I --- umm?” He teases, “Okay...I fancy you. I always have. In case you hadn’t noticed.”

Going up on my toes I plant a little kiss on his jaw, I don’t know what came over me. Maybe I’ve finally gone mad.

His fingers run over his jaw lightly and he chuckles, “If you attack me like this again I’d have to report you to Professor Sprout.” Letting go off my hand he wraps his arm around my shoulders, pulling me closer. I feel a tingling sensation run down my spine.

Having circled the rural settlement for nearly an hour, we’re famished. We find ourselves on the High Street, right outside of Honeydukes, “After you, M’lady!” Crouching down in a bow, Kyungsoo gestures me to walk in.

M’lady?

Together we stare in wonder at the shelves upon shelves of the most succulent looking sweets imaginable. We’ve both, individually, been here countless times but together we feel like children lost in wonderland. I realize how light my pockets feel as Kyungsoo’s eyes wander around the shop ambitiously.

“Kyungsoo, I only have enough for Hagrid’s moleskin robe. I didn’t think I’d need a lot of gold for this trip...I could make a quick run to a Cashpoint first”, embarrassed, I admit.

“If we were to compound the five Galleons that I’ve owed you for six years now, I’m certain I could buy you half the shop!” The portly Ambrosius Flume, the owner of Honeydukes, clears his throat in annoyance at Kyungsoo’s comment, eyeing us suspiciously.

Buy half the shop we did.

Kyungsoo wasn’t entirely lucky with all the flavours of Berti Botts having sampled soap, dirt and earwax while I almost choked on a rotten-egg flavoured one. The Pepper Imps had us breathing fire at each other and a lock of my hair got caught in the line which Kyungsoo doused just in time and saved my scalp from going up in flames. We pigged on Peppermint Toads which made us sick after they literally started hopping frantically in our stomachs.

Kyungsoo suggested we make a quick stop at Dogweed and Deathcap for a handful of leaves of a very foul smelling plant that were supposed to help us keep our barbaric fare down. When I absolutely refused to chew on them, Kyungsoo force fed me. The weird red dotted black leaves made our mouths go completely dry and left us with a pungent after taste.

“If you wanted me dead, you could’ve just used the Unforgivable Curse instead!” I cried.

We realized if we weren’t quick about it, we’d just end up breaking curfew so we sprinted to Gladrags Wizardwear to pick up Hagrid’s robe only to be tempted to by the thought of staying longer in each other’s company. Going back to Hogwarts meant being held hostage by the blue and bronze and the yellow and black. I’ve never appreciated Hogwarts’ divisive House system, even more so now.

“We’ll make it in time if we leave exactly at 9:30 p.m.” Kyungsoo reasons.

“How much longer do we have now?” I ask, dreading the answer.

“20ish?” he says sheepishly.

Burying my face into his warm and fuzzy sweater, I whine, “That’s not a lot.”

Squeezing me in a hug he says, “Then let’s make the most of it!”

We enter the shop that’s apparently been dressing ‘the Elegant Wizard’ for over two centuries with lurid socks and flashy robes. I chance upon a moleskin one which I quickly set aside for Hagrid and a furry red one with silver and gold stars that bounced off of it. I egged Kyungsoo to try it on over his all black Muggle clothing along with a bright yellow hat made out of chicken and pheasant feathers. He on the other hand picked out a black velvet robe with a high collar, a set of fake fangs and dragon hide boots that made me look like a vicar at something that the Muggles call a “rock concert.”

The disapproving help at the shop agreed to get our magazine cover worthy looks on camera. She said she’d get them printed and that we could get a copy on our next visit for fifteen Sickles.

Along with Hagrid’s robe, I purchased a pair of socks for the birthday boy Baekhyun. They were patterned with wolves that howled when the socks got too smelly.

And then, just like that, it was time for us to go back to Hogwarts.

***

Which came first; the Phoenix or the Flame?

The eagle knocker drawls and for the first time in six years I have no clue what it’s talking about. I’ve lost all ability to reason and all I want to right now is run over to the Hufflepuff Tower. A tall, thin boy who stood leaned against the wall next to the door comes out of the shadows ‘tsk-ing’ at me.

“Aren’t you supposed to be one of the smart ones? Did Kyungsoo really manage to dumb you down?” He chuckles before proceeding to answer the knocker, leading us into the Common Room.

I choose to not answer him but he continues to look at me questioningly. He extends his arm and says, “I’m Sehun Oh, fifth-year.”

“I know”, I say, “I’m --”

“I know who you are. The pretty girl who’s captured Kyungsoo’s heart thus breaking mine.” He dramatically clutches at his chest, falls and rolls over on the floor.

Excusing myself, I softly apologize to the elongated Flobberworm and head over to the Dormitory.

“Wait!”, he calls out, “I didn’t mean to weird you out! Are you up for a game of Chess? You’re practically a friend now… considering what you have going on with Kyungsoo. And I’m really bored.”

What do I have going on with Kyungsoo and what does Flobberworm know about it?

Unsure of my role here as a friend or an entertainer, I decide to indulge him with, “...just one game!”

“Wicked! Let me call Chen and you can ask his girl to join.. also Miss Ravenclaw!”

“Aren’t we all Ravenclaw?”

“Sorry...you know the girl who’s tutoring Kai?”

This is by far the most eventful day I’ve had in all of my six years at Hogwarts.

***

Resting his chin on my shoulder, he’s circled his arms around my waist as we stare into the distance from the Wooden Bridge. Every free period finds us together, somewhere very far away from prying eyes. The seventh floor and the Bridge are our usual haunts. Although, we think of these excursions as extremely detrimental to our upcoming exams, we realize there’s nothing to be gained out of fighting a troll. That is, our intense feelings for each other. But I’m not that brave and honestly neither is he. The shadows underneath his eyes are self explanatory.

“We need to chart up a study schedule. We barely have any time left!” I say bursting out of our saccharine bubble.

“Sure”, he nods, “whatever you say.”

“Kyungsoo!” Freeing myself from his embrace I turn around to face him, “We need to make it to the seventh year!”

“Who says we won’t?”

He’s loopy.

“Kyungsoo!”

“That’s me.”

“Kyungsoo!”

He pulls me into a hug again and I’m close enough to see the constellation of moles on his neck. “Mmm Sleekeazy”, he hums, sniffing my hair. Distracting me.

“Do you need some?” I ask, immediately realising how his hair seems to be getting shorter each day. I run a hand over his head, “guess you don’t. What do you keep doing with your hair?”

“I like it like that. It’s more comfortable”, he sighs, “Wait! You don’t like it?”

“I can learn to live with it. Besides, more Sleekeazy for me. Keeps my hair from looking like a bunch of Flobberworms!”

Flobberworm!

I have a Chess game to win!

“Kyungsoo! I have to go. I need to win this time. That Sehun boy is ridiculously good at Chess. Even Chen and I together don’t stand a chance against him.”

“Wait! You’re abandoning me for Sehun?” He asks, mock angrily.

“Noooo! I just….have to win this time. And you need to go chart up a study schedule for us. Also, what are you doing next week?”

“Whatever you’re doing next week”, he says, batting his eyelashes. And I try to suppress a smile.

“Have you ever watched a Quidditch match before?”

“Baekhyun’s Captain of Gryffindor, Kai is the Keeper. Chanyeol is the captain of the Slytherin team and Sehun’s the Seeker for Ravenclaw. And Yoongi is a lousy Beater. So yes, I have. Except I’ve never found myself rooting for my own House. And if you tell those Mandrakes this, I’m afraid I will have to break up with you despite you being the prettiest, smartest, nicest girl I’ve ever met. I’m sorry I don’t make the rules.”

“Aww”, I tease, “Noted. And you could’ve just said yes. Let’s watch the Hufflepuff vs Ravenclaw match next week?”

“We’ll be in different stands!” He cries.

“Oh! That’s absolutely terrible but can we go anyway? I finally have someone to root for.”

“You’ve always had Ravenclaw to root for!”

“No, silly! Sehun Oh.”

“Ah! Of course”, he says, putting his arms around me. Again.

***

On the morning of the match, I had my game face on. I don’t even know why.

Having successfully followed the study schedule that Kyungsoo had laid out for us, our mood was light, and we were ready to let our hair down. Which, for all practical purposes, wasn��t something Kyungsoo was capable of. We were walking up to the pitch until it was time for us to go our separate ways.

“You turn right and I’ll go left”, I instruct Kyungsoo.

“I’m aware of where the Hufflepuff stands are. Thank you for your consideration.”

“Okay then”, I giggle, “see you later?”

“No...you’re joining me in the Hufflepuff stands.”

“Do you want me to get expelled? Was that your grand scheme all along?”

“Of course they’re going to expel you for this. And if they do, I promise to voluntarily drop out.”

“What will we do then? Deal in stolen artefacts?”

“Looks like you have it all planned out.”

“No, I just know someone...great we’re off on a tangent again! No, I’m not joining you in the Hufflepuff stands. Bye bye Kyungsoo Doh. See you later!”

“You’re bound by law to break the law”, he hands me a neatly folded parchment, “Chen’s detention record. When you came to see me that day, it made me wonder. What was so important? So I went back to sift through the records you’d worked on and voila!”

“What’s ‘voila’?”

“Don’t digress. Come along, house-elf and find me a good seat.”

“Yessir”, I give up. And covering all the blue and bronze of my uniform with the black robe, I sneak into the Hufflepuff stands.

The things I do for this bald idiot.

The pitch is pulsing with a contagious energy and I find myself completely engaged as soon as Madam Hooch’s first whistle sounds. All the whizzing and whirring players make my head spin so I have my eyes trained on the Ravenclaw goalpost except for when I’m checking up on Sehun’s progress with the Snitch. Ravenclaw hasn’t been doing too well and with the game down to it’s final few minutes, Sehun really is their only hope. Kyungsoo pulls me down everytime I jump or squeal for the Ravenclaw side, “Do you want to get thrashed?” he whispers.

And just then the commentator shouts, “Ravenclaw’s Seeker Sehun has caught the Snitch! RAVENCLAW HAS WON THE MATCH!”

My voice is hoarse from all the screaming. I turn around to face Kyungsoo pulling him in a tight hug annoying all the Hufflepuff fans around us.

In a fleeting moment of exhilaration, his lips are on mine and the world stops.

***

"Happy memory!" I parrot for our last lesson before the year ends but Kyungsoo seems to be awfully distracted. That teasing smile on his face he's trying not so hard to contain is making my heart thump against my ribcage.

"Focus", I croon once again with mock annoyance but my brain is mush and I feel like I'm levitating because there's no way my jelly legs could be supporting my stance right now. He sways closer to give me a quick peck on the nose.

"Happy memory", he whispers as his eyes search mine. Brushing a stray lock of hair away from my face, he allows his thumb to softly caress my cheek. His fingers pry for mine before they're intertwined in a steady grip.

We take our positions, raise our wands and yell with a flick, "Expecto Patronum!"

Two lynxes dance around the Room of Requirement illuminating it with the gleam of their silver.

Dumbstruck, I tilt my head to face Kyungsoo, “Your Patronus...”

“Our Patronuses”, he whispers.

“We have the same --”

Kyungsoo reaches for my waist and draws me close, his plush lips an agonizing touch away from mine. Twirling my fingers in the seams of his robe, I close my eyes and feel my breath hitch in my throat. A tingling sensation spreads through every fragment of my being as his hand finds the back of my neck and his lips meet mine in a dizzying kiss.

Two Years Later

My house looks wonky.

And, no. It’s not the after effect of Apparating here. A wonky house held up by charms in the middle of nowhere was the only thing Kyungsoo and I could afford with his meagre pay at J. Pippin’s Potions and the modest “severance” I received after being practically disinherited by Gran for wasting my time with a Muggle-born.

I trudge the short distance from the shabby front garden to the main door, weary from my dismal performance in today’s Stealth and Tracking lesson.

The door swings open and the pungent odour coming out from Kyungsoo’s makeshift Apothecary in our basement makes me want to barf. Putting a bubble around my head to avoid the smell, I traipse to the basement.

A bald Kyungsoo is bent over a cauldron, the steam from which has fogged up his glasses and has apparently made him go deaf. I poke him on his shoulder to grab his attention, making him jump. Therefore causing his little vials to smash on the floor.

I just set us back by twenty Galleons.

Kyungsoo is quick to clear the sloppy and shard-y mess I’d made and reverse the Bubble Head charm I’d put myself under. He covers up the putrid cauldron immediately.

Tears well up in my eyes and I lean into his chest.

The world is bleak.

“You’re home”, he coaxes, gently running a gloved hand over my head.

“Remind me again why I chose to become an Auror? I could’ve done anything with my perfect N.E.W.T. scores. I’m disastrous at this!” I’m sobbing against his soft ‘t-shirt’ as he comforts me with a ‘shhh..it’s okay’. “The chickens have made such a mess in the coop, Soo and I haven’t heard back from the Auror Office on the internship yet. We have a piteous stack of gold in our vault at Gringotts….” sniffling I continue, “You know we could just keep our money in a safe here..those clever Goblins are making so much money out of our money! The vault is a bad decision...we’re losing more money because of it. I hate the vault and the chickens and this house! What if it crumbles down while we’re asleep? What will we do then?” I pull away from him, my wide eyes demanding answers.

“We won’t have to worry about much if the roof comes crashing on us”, He reasons with a slight teasing smile.

“The very stringent Auror Office accepted you because you’re a brilliant witch and right, I believe you enrolled with them only to spite Gran. And honestly my love, you’re being too hard on yourself. You did really well on the Concealment and Disguise training, didn’t you?” He says, lifting my chin up.

“Also on the Memory Charm”, I offer quietly, making him chuckle.

“Exactly! What else is bothering you? Ahh the chickens and the vault?”

“Also the fact that Gran hates you and your parents think I’m a sinister witch who has tied their son down”, my lips begin to tremble again.

He sighs.

“I promise to take care of the chicken situation tomorrow and my love, we finally have a reason to keep that vault”, his eyes enlarge into beautiful brown circles and his plush lips stretch into a heart. A shrill pitch betrays his otherwise deep, calm voice, “Dogweed and Deathcap has offered me a job with a pay raise and a free supply of ingredients! Which is a great thing because ever since you’ve started your Auror training you’ve practically emptied my Dittany stores!”

“KYUNGSOO! I’m so happy for you!” Screaming, I jump into his arms and he twirls me around, dancing and giggling.

Panting, he says excitedly, “Wait! There’s more. Apparently the article on the benefits of Confusing Concoction I co-authored with Slughorn’s Warlock friend’s daft grand nephew?”

I nod vigorously.

“That article really took off! One of the reviews called me a ‘promising Potioneer’! Gran apparently got a whiff of that article...”

My expression soured, “And?”

“She’s invited us home to discuss it!” He rummages for a letter in his desk drawer and hands it to me, “Take a look at this!”

The letter reads in Gran’s shrewd yet artistic handwriting. She mentions, to the best of her abilities, how proud she is of me for following my parents’ footsteps and that she’d like to see us for dinner to discuss our ‘future’.

“She’s coming around”, Kyungsoo crouches to peer into my blank eyes.

“Took her long enough.”

“There’s one more thing”, he says sheepishly.

It looks like an evening full of surprises.

Kyungsoo gives me a glossy magazine with a still picture of a woman in the most garish outfit I’ve ever seen with the word VOGUE sprawled across her scrawny frame in big bold white letters.

“Soo, why are you giving me a Muggle magazine?”

“For Muggle clothing inspo.”

I hate it when he uses these ridiculous foreign terms like “inspo” and “voila”. “Voila” is definitely his favourite.

“Why would I need clothing inspiration, Soo? Do you not like what I wear?”

“I love what you wear. Even when you don’t wear --”

“Soo!”

“Okay umm we have to take a trip to London...my parents would like to have us over for the weekend….you’re”, he pauses, “you’re okay with that right?”

It’s a lot to process.

What if they prosecute me by hanging? I’ve read about what Muggles do to witches. Idly running through the pages of the magazine which suddenly seems too heavy for my arms, I buy time. Kyungsoo patiently waits for my answer.

“What’s ‘goss’?” I mumble, eyes trained on ‘Vogue’.

“Gossip?”

“Ahh...I have some ‘goss’ on Baekhyun and his girlfriend.” I digress and let me.

His brows crinkle in concern, “Oh-kay?”

“They were caught snogging in one of the Training Rooms yesterday...”

“And what became of them?”

“I don’t know.” They were made to clean all the Training Rooms the Muggle way. “Kyungsoo, I love you.”

“I love you, too.” He pulls me into his arms and presses his soft lips to my forehead, “We’ll get through this.”

“Of course, we will. We’re soulmates”, I say into his chest, reminiscing the time we’d kissed while two lynxes waltzed around us.

Suddenly, with a loud boom, Kyungsoo’s cauldron went flying in the air. It’s bubbling hot contents splattered on the walls of our basement. The impact made us duck under his desk.

“I forgot to turn off the burner.”

#kyungsoo #exo #kyungsoo fluff #exo fluff #kyungsoo imagines #exo imagines #kyungsoo scenarios #exo scenarios #kyungsoo oneshot #kyungsoo oneshots #exo oneshots #exo hogwarts au #kyungsoo hogwarts au #ex aus

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nellie-elizabeth · 3 years

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Grey's Anatomy: It's All Too Much (17x08)

I don't know... this one kind of just rolled right over me. Not in a bad way, not in a good.

Cons:

DeLuca's death is stupid, and the legacy of it here is still stupid. They had so much they could have done with his character, and now having everyone go through their tepid, repetitive grief routine is just tiresome. They gave most of the grieving material to Teddy, who I hate, and to Bailey, who I love, but I don't really like the response they gave her. She decides to order an autopsy and do an M&M about DeLuca's death to make sure no mistakes were made, but Richard tells her she's causing harm to the living, that no mistakes were made. It was just a tragedy. I don't know... does this seem like something Bailey would do? It felt like a more transparent excuse than usual, to have two characters standing in a room yelling at each other.

And Teddy, with that whole thing where she keeps glimpsing DeLuca all over the place? It's really annoying and why would I connect with her grief over the loss of Andrew? There are other characters who I wanted to spend more time with. This was emphasized at the end when we had the memorial and we didn't get to hear what people were actually saying about DeLuca, because honestly most of these characters didn't have a personal connection with him... and the ones who did, didn't have a lot of screen time to deal with it. Then we end with Owen carrying Teddy home at the end... and the trailer showing a Teddy-centric episode next week... gah. No THANK you. I don't LIKE you, Teddy. Sorry not sorry.

The pacing was... strange during Link and Amelia's argument scene. I can't tell if I'm supposed to be worried about Link's drinking. Do I want to do a whole alcoholism story-line with him? No, no I don't. Link and Amelia are like a safe haven of more relatable stress on this show for me this season. I'm hopeful that this story is just about the stresses and conflicts that come from their situation, and that they'll weather the storm as always. They seem to show that in their last scene, but I don't know... I just didn't like their fight scene.

Pros:

Schmitt is my favorite. His speech to Bailey about how he feels like a bad Jew but how the ceremonies and traditions are really helpful to him... that was so sweet. I loved his moments with Nico in this episode too, where we got this acknowledgment that the problems in their relationship stemmed a lot from Nico's numbness. Then there's that moment during the memorial where Nico initiates a hand-hold. I'm so back and forth with these two. Ultimately I want Nico to pay a bit for his poor treatment of Levi... but they're showing that he's softened, that he is acknowledging his poor behavior in some small way... I don't know. I just want Levi to be happy.

So, the memorial was kind of a miss for me. Sure, I got misty-eyed whenever the camera focused on Carina, and when Andrew's interview video popped up there were a few tears. But overall the music and the sad panning camera over everyone's faces... it just didn't quite land for me. It's the smaller moments, really, that worked in terms of highlighting the grief, and for that we should turn to Maggie.

Maggie didn't have a ton of screen-time in this episode, but she made me cry twice. The first was at the beginning, when Winston (Maggie's bf, I finally learned his name!) is dancing with the kids to distract them from Maggie and Amelia having a moment. About DeLuca, and about Meredith still being so sick. Maggie is sitting on the chair crying while the kids are goofing off with Winston, and it was so poignant. The second was towards the end, when Helm admits that she had no compassion for DeLuca when he got sick, and now she's feeling so guilty, and she just wants the touch of another person. Maggie tells her to stand up and turn around, and then they just stand there, back to back, touching but not breathing on each other, and Helm allows herself to cry. So good.

I love Jo, I love her giggly, hysterical way of processing grief. I love the scene of her, Link, and Jackson just sitting around and drinking and complaining about their various woes. I'm not really on board the Jackson/Jo train because I think it's kind of lazy to pair them up, but I do think they have a natural, easy chemistry that reminds me of how much I've liked Jackson as a character over the years. Same thing goes for Maggie and Winston. Man, Jackson and Maggie really did just drag the worst out of each other, didn't they? I'm happy they're no longer together!

And then we've got Meredith. She's on the beach, deciding whether to live or die or whatnot. Derek is there again. Hearing Derek talk about Ellis was really heartwarming. I mean, it's always kind of hilarious how little the characters in Grey's are actually around for their children, but they have really tried to step up the importance of the children this season. I love that Zola is becoming more of a character in her own right, and even though we don't see much of Bailey or Ellis, their presence is certainly felt. Apparently Zola writes letters to her dad in her journal! And Ellis is the serious one, so much like her mom. Just... excuse me while I weep! And then you have Hayes coming in to talk to Meredith where she lays in bed, still on the ventilator, and he's encouraging her to wake up for the sake of her children. Meredith is anxious about Derek, but he says not to worry, that he'll be right there when she needs him.

Like, all this afterlife/seeing dead character stuff... it's undeniably incredibly cheesy. It's also... really working for me, not gonna lie. I'm enjoying seeing Meredith get this weird, unconventional peace. She's fought so hard to be content with her life, and I want her to wake up and keep living it.

That's all for now! It's still bullshit that DeLuca is dead. I'm pissed about it. And I'm already preemptively frustrated by the Teddy-centric mess we're getting next week. But all in all, this episode was perfectly alright.

7.5/10

#review #grey's anatomy #grey's anatomy review #greys anatomy #greys anatomy review #grey's #grey's abc #greys #greys abc

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sicparvismorrigan · 3 years

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Crisis of Faith

The will of God brings a young and impressionable Trinity soldier to the attention of Commander Konstantin.

Tomb Raider/Rise of the Tomb Raider/Konstantin

Viewpoint: 3rd person female Trinity soldier OC

Warnings: blood, descriptions of violence, PTSD, religious fanaticism, stigmata

Word count: ~2.5k [complete]

A short fic I wrote because I wanted to play with Konstantin’s heavily religious side.

Read on Ao3

Death.

Ailish sat up on her cot, freezing cold. She was drenched in sweat and panting heavily. It was pitch black in the gulag and she tried to slow her breathing so she wouldn’t wake her comrades. She listened carefully, there was snoring coming from all directions. Nobody had heard her, not yet.

She was safe. She was surrounded by big men with weapons, nothing could hurt her here. All the prisoners were securely locked up. Ailish reached down and felt the comforting cool steel of her own pistol in its holster.

She breathed in deep and counted 1...2...3... before breathing out again. Her pulse was still racing and she could feel her heart trying to leap out of her ribcage.

Safe. I’m safe.

It had been nearly two years since Yamatai and Ailish still had nightmares. She knew exactly what it was: Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. She had heard the guys talk, knew some of them struggled too. She had seen a few get discharged because of it. She’d spent a long time trying to convince herself she was fine. But in fact, she really wasn’t.

She needed air. Ailish quietly got out of her cot and shrugged on a few more layers before making sure her pistol was strapped to her body, just in case. She tiptoed past the guys by the light from her torch, and made her way out to the old guardhouse that was their temporary mess area. She just wanted some space to calm down.

Empty, thank God. The embers of the fire were enough to keep the warmth going. She pulled up a chair and settled in to watch the glow.

She kept replaying the last moments of her nightmare over and over in her head, despite trying her best to push it away. They were in that god-awful pit again, suffocating from the fumes. She checked ahead and yelled Clear! back to her second, Charlie. As he moved past her she heard something big land on the rock of the cavern floor behind them. Charlie swung back around and screamed at her to get down as a God-awful roar filled the cave, rattling her bones. He raised his gun to fire and Ailish shrieked at him stopitsgonnablow-

bang bang

BOOM

A flash of white light, then darkness. Waking up in terror once again from the memories that haunted her every night. At least she was alive, she had made it out. Charlie hadn’t, she couldn’t save him. She still blamed herself. The guys had tried to convince her again and again it was an accident, but she should have been there. In her dreams, she’d seen Charlie die a hundred times over, each more horrible than the last.

She had never been so close to quitting as she had after Yamatai. She had composed her resignation letter in her head on the helicopter ride back to civilization, but had never written it. Something told her it wasn’t time yet. She’d spent just over three years working with Trinity at that point and never questioned her beliefs before the clean-up mission to that hellhole. By all accounts it was even worse during the Nishimura expedition. She shuddered, it didn’t bear thinking about, how anyone could survive there for any length of time she’d never know. So many bodies. And in some places, the smell, it was unholy.

It didn’t help her sleep at night, but at least she had got a promotion out of it. The salary was great, which was a major reason for her staying put. Ailish was trying to help her parents put her younger sister through Yale, and every cent counted. Her mom and dad had just been grateful, and thankfully hadn’t yet asked where the money had come from. She didn’t want to have to lie. They’d hit the roof if they ever found out. As far as they were concerned, she was still working as a paralegal in Chicago. God, she missed her sister. She hadn’t seen her in months, and now Ailish was off-grid in Siberia. Freezing cold, snowy, desolate Siberia.

She was startled out of her thoughts by a voice outside. A deep voice, American accent. It sounded a lot like the Commander. She really hoped he wouldn’t come into the guardhouse. He was intimidating, and she’d never been in a room alone with him before. He sounded like he was talking on the phone.

“...and what did the doctor say?”

...

“Okay...Ana, are you smoking?”

...

“Yeah, I know, but-“

...

“Listen, she’s on the move. She may even already be in Siberia. I need you back here.”

...

“Got it, see you soon.”

Who was Ana? Was it his wife, girlfriend, daughter? Who was the other ‘she’ he was talking about?

Ailish heard footsteps coming up to the door and the latch lifting. Oh boy, here we go. I wasn’t eavesdropping, Commander, I swear.

He stopped dead when she saw her at the table. Obviously not expecting anyone else to be awake at this hour. He slid the cellphone he was carrying into a pocket and nodded at her before closing the door behind him. “Sergeant.”

“Evening-“ Ailish checked her watch. “Ah, morning, Commander. Sorry, sir. I’ll get out of your way.” She slid her chair back to leave.

“Stay. You were here first.” Ailish sat back down immediately, wide-eyed. “What are you doing up so late?”

“I couldn’t sleep, sir.” Not strictly true but she didn’t want to feel like a little schoolkid telling her superior she had a bad dream.

“Likewise.” He pulled up the chair opposite her and sat down with a sigh.

Something was bothering him, he seemed fidgety. Ailish didn’t really know what to do so she started twiddling her thumbs and rambling to fill the silence. “Gee, the weather’s really turned these past few days, huh? Ha ha...kind of makes me wish we were back in Syria. Although it was almost too hot-“

He cut her off. “Moscovitch, isn’t it?”

“Yes, sir.”

“We’re not on duty, you don’t have to call me sir.”

“Uh- yes. Okay, si- eh...Command- uhmm...”

“Konstantin is fine.”

“Okay.” It felt weird. Ailish wasn’t even sure if that was his first or last name. “You can call me Ailish. It’s slightly less of a mouthful than Moscovitch.”

“Don’t hear that name very often.”

“Yeah, it’s a weird one...my parents have always had this fascination with Ireland. It means ‘noble and kind’ or something like that...I dunno...”

He looked at her for a long moment. Ailish opened her mouth to speak again when a wolf howled up in the mountains. She grabbed for her pistol and her other hand tightened on the edge of the table until her knuckles turned white.

Konstantin saw her reaction and frowned. “Relax, it’s just a wolf, they don’t come down here-“

“Yeah, I know.” She started hyperventilating and bit her lip hard to fight back the tears. For God’s sake, don’t cry in front of the Commander. She hated hearing the wolves at night. Rationally, she knew they were miles away, but the sound still caused her pain.

For a moment she was back on Yamatai, wedged in a rocky crevice listening to the snarling as they hunted for her. The smell of rain, tree sap and decay all around. Her hands shaking as she pointed her rifle at the opening, just waiting for jaws and teeth to emerge around the corner and grab at her.

“Oh, shit.” This was going to be a bad episode. She’d had panic attacks increasingly often and could spot the signs of one approaching. Fortunately they usually hit when she was alone or could sneak away, but now she had no such luxury. Ailish knew this one had her beat.

Konstantin’s mouth tightened. “Language.”

She had time to blurt out “Terribly sorry sir!” before she slid off the chair onto the floor and crawled under the table.

The tears were now pouring out and rolling down her cheeks. What an embarrassment. She’d fought so hard to prove she was equal to the guys, and now she was being a silly little girl.

She felt the Commander’s boot gently tapping her back. “Mos- Ailish? Are you okay?”

“I will be, in a minute.” She panted.

Through the panic she heard the other chair scraping backwards. To her surprise Konstantin crouched and got down to her level under the table, facing her. Was he supposed to do that?

“You’ve normally got it together, Moscovitch.” Oh no, back on a last name basis. She’d definitely messed up. “Want to tell me what’s going on?”

Ailish shook her head, squeezing her eyes shut. “Just need a sec.”

The only sounds in the room were her panting and the low crackle of logs in the burner. She felt his gloved hand on her shoulder.

He quietly spoke. “Listen, I read the Yamatai report.” It was strange, how calming his voice was.

Ailish looked up, misty-eyed. “Yeah?”

He nodded. “I didn’t know they’d be sending a woman.”

“I’m just as capable-“

“Quiet. I’m saying it’s impressive you completed the mission, and even led part of the way, that place sounded like a nightmare.”

“It was.” Charlie, I should have saved you.

“And I am sorry you lost Corporal Collins. I know you were close.”

“Yeah...” she sniffed loudly. Her heart still hurt, so much. “He was like a brother. Charlie would have done anything for me. And I would have done the same for him.”

His eyes softened. “I know what that’s like.”

It meant a lot to Ailish, getting commiserations from a Trinity leader. Normally, you could forget about that sort of thing. Rourke had co-ordinated the Yamatai mission and hadn’t said a word to her when he had met them back on the mainland for debriefing. Dominguez had been silent too, though he had been one of those who had approved her promotion. They could be a heartless, insensitive bunch sometimes.

But she hadn’t expected the Commander to have a soft side. He actually reminded her of Charlie. Konstantin had a scarred-up face but there were similarities for sure. Blonde hair, blue eyes, they walked with the same purpose. He wasn’t bad-looking actually, as long as the light was dim.

Ailish eventually rallied and crawled back into her chair, still breathing quickly. Konstantin sat down too, regarding her with something akin to concern.

“Tell me the real reason you’re here by yourself in the middle of the night.”

She swallowed hard. “I...I have nightmares still.”

He shook his head. “I think you should talk to someone about this. If you’re serious about staying with Trinity. It would be a shame to bail out now that you’re a Sergeant.”

“I’m fine.” Ailish mumbled.

“You’re really not. I know someone who might be able to help, a doctor.”

“No, honestly...” Please no doctors, they might kick her out. She needed the money for Ellen’s tuition, she had to stay.

“I trust her, she’s with Trinity. Her name’s Wilkens. If I order you to see her you can’t say no.”

“Then I suppose it’s settled.” Great, just great.

“Indeed.”

He suddenly pulled his gloves off and took her hand in his. Ailish fought not to pull back out of his grasp. Was this really appropriate? Her free hand was reaching for her pistol when she realised he was just checking her pulse.

“Much better. Almost back to normal.”

She managed a small smile. “Thank you Commander.”

Ailish realised her hand felt strange under his, like a bug was crawling on her. She glanced down and started. “Your...uh, your hand is bleeding.”

Fresh blood was running down between her fingers onto the table. It was creepy as hell, she tried not to shiver. She’d been a bit squeamish about blood since she’d seen a literal underground river of it in Japan.

He didn’t react, just looked straight into her eyes. Ailish didn’t know what he expected her to do. She could still feel it trickling down her skin. Was he not alarmed that his hand had just started pouring blood? She was becoming visibly uncomfortable when he finally answered her.

“They’re old wounds. It happens sometimes.” He held up his other hand, palm facing towards her. “See?” That one was also dripping crimson.

Ailish almost gagged. Ugh, now she knew why he wore gloves all the time, even in the heat of Syria. What was the name for those wounds? Stigmata, or something like that. A sign of divine favour, apparently.

The urge to ask how he got them was overwhelming. Actually, she better not, it was maybe a touchy subject. The Commander could be...violent. She’d seen what he could do when he was pissed off. She had the fleeting thought that maybe he would hurt her, or worse, if the mood took him. Everyone else was asleep, who would know?

He spoke, jolting her back to reality. “Did you pray on Yamatai, Ailish?”

She nodded, not breaking the eye contact. “Yes sir, for my life, almost constantly.”

“And you truly believe in what we are trying to accomplish?”

“Yes sir.”

“Hmmm...”

There was a long pause, he seemed to be having an internal conversation she wasn’t privy to. Finally he nodded. “Keep your faith, Ailish. You have already been tested, and you’re still here. I believe you are destined for something greater, like myself.”

“Sir?”

He smiled at her, but it was cold and calculating, he reminded her of a shark. His eyes were suddenly dark and empty.

“The name Ailish is Celtic, yes. But did you know it has a different meaning in Hebrew?”

“You know Hebrew?” She asked in surprise. He ignored her.

“Your name means consecrated to God.”

She wasn’t sure she liked his train of thought. Ailish knew he was one of the more devout members of Trinity, but she didn’t know how deep it ran.

“I’m sorry, Commander, I’m not sure what you’re getting at...”

“I want to keep a closer eye on you, Sergeant. You report directly to me now, do you understand?”

“Yes sir.” She nodded, albeit reluctantly.

“And let me talk to Wilkens. We’ll help you, don’t skip out on Trinity yet.” He finally let go of her bloodstained hand. Ailish could smell it, metallic.

Konstantin stood up, pulling his gloves on. “I have a feeling we’re going to need you for something important.”

Ailish was dumbfounded, what had she agreed to? She didn’t like not knowing, but the Commander wasn’t a man you just said no to.

As he opened the door with a blast of cold air Konstantin turned back, giving her that empty smile again. “Get some sleep, Sergeant. That’s an order.”

“O...kay.” The door clicked shut, and he was gone.

Ailish glanced down at the mess on her hand. She felt like she’d been marked in some way.

Stigmata.

What did he mean?

Consecrated to God. What was it that Konstantin, or some other higher power had planned for her?

What was her purpose?

***

Thank you for reading!

~ Anyone who has read Behind Trinity Lines will recognise the character of Dr. Joanna Wilkens, I couldn’t not include her somehow! She is awesome and I love her. All credit to @BrittanyTheScrivener on Ao3 for Jo’s character. Her work is brilliant, if you haven’t read it I highly suggest you do

~ Sergeant Ailish Moscovitch, her family and Corporal Charlie Collins are my characters, all other characters mentioned are property of the Tomb Raider creative team and I take no ownership of them

~ I feel I should mention that nothing in this work is intended to cause offence or be blasphemous in any way. I myself am not religious at all but I am respectful of those who choose to be and anything I’ve written is only exploring character traits already displayed in the Tomb Raider video games

~ I have no current plans to update this with more chapters, it was intended to be a one-shot. I just really wanted to play with Konstantin’s heavily religious side. But if there is interest I might continue the story...what exactly does Konstantin have planned for Ailish? Where does she fit in with the events in Rise of the Tomb Raider? What will Ana think of her? What would happen if Ailish and Lara ever crossed paths? This could get interesting...

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timotey · 4 years

Text

Ficlet: Silhouettes

Dark Blue Kiss. PeteKao. For @inlovewithjdramas

What if that night, after the incident with Non, Kao came to Pete’s house instead of going home?

💘.💘.💘

When Pete opens the door, Kao’s standing there, looking a little forlorn with his head bent and his bag dangling from his hand, its bottom brushing against the ground. Pete feels a painful pang in his chest but he hardens his heart against anything but anger.

“What are you doing here?” he snaps at his ex-boyfriend, barring the doorway and not letting him in.

Kao looks up at him; his eyes are reddened and glassy. “Pete,” he says quietly. “Can I--”

But Pete doesn’t let him finish. “Wasn’t I clear enough? I’m not interested in hearing any more lies. We’re done!” His voice is harsh and unforgiving and he firmly pushes down any regret he might feel at hearing himself talk like that to Kao. Kao deserves it. He does!

“Pete,” Kao says pleadingly. “I’m sorry--”

Kao’s apologies - all of them empty, meaningless - make the rage simmering in Pete’s chest burn hotter. He’s so furious he could choke on his feelings. His throat thickens so much he can’t get a single word out. He’s never felt so angry before, so betrayed.

He slams the door shut in Kao’s face.

And then he stands there, leaning against the door with his hands and his forehead, just breathing deeply to get himself back under control. Breathing - and listening. Listening for retreating footsteps… or maybe for another knock. But he would never admit that to anyone. He hears nothing, though.

When he finally turns around, his father is standing in the open doorway leading deeper into the house. The expression on his face makes Pete’s chest clench a little. He hates seeing that look on his dad’s face. It’s been so long since the last time his father looked at him like that - with disappointment.

“What?” Pete asks, probably with more belligerence than he should, considering.

Pon stares at him a moment longer, then he says softly, “Are you sure this is what you want, son? This is how you want it to end?”

“Yes!” Pete states without hesitating, without thinking, really. Because it is. This is what he wants. It is.

Sighing, Pon shakes his head, then he grabs his wallet and his car keys and heads for the door.

“What are you doing?” Pete asks him, confused.

Pon stops with his hand on the door knob and looks at him. “I’m going to drive the boy home, at least. It’s late.”

Pete frowns, annoyed now. “I am your son, dad. Me, not him.” They used to joke about this. Before. Now, it’s not a joke to Pete anymore. His father should be on his side, always! Especially when Pete’s in the right.

Sighing again, Pon says, “I realize that, Pete. And I love you. You’re the most important thing in the world to me.” He pauses before continuing as if to make sure that Pete’s truly listening to him. “And that’s why I worry that one day, you will regret your decision to break up with Kao.”

I won’t, Pete wants to blurt out. But he doesn’t. He clenches his teeth hard to stop himself from saying anything. When he pushes his anger aside, which is not easy, he realizes that his father only wants what’s best for him. Always.

“You look the happiest I’ve ever seen you when you’re with him,” Pon continues in his kind voice. “And whatever that boy’s faults, whatever he did wrong, Kao loves you very much. And I think you do know that.”

Pete looks away. It’s not true. He doesn’t know that Kao loves him. If Kao loved him, he wouldn’t have lied to him. He would’ve responded to his messages. He wouldn’t have chosen that bastard Non over him.

But he didn’t, did he? the tiny voice at the back of his mind whispers to him. Kao didn’t choose Non over Pete. The whole issue with Non’s never been about that. Not from Kao’s point of view, at least. Kao only wanted to help his family and at some point, everything just got out of hand, very much thanks to Non’s meddling.

Damn it!

Taking a deep breath and then letting it out again, Pete reaches out and grabs the keys out of his dad’s hand. “I will drive him home,” he grumbles.

Pon just smiles at him in approval and steps aside.

When Pete walks out of the door, Kao’s nowhere to be seen. The driveway is very dark; the warm yellow light from the lamps by the door can’t reach past the bushes lining the way. The night is almost entirely silent, the hum of the traffic nearby is just a soft background noise.

Pete jogs towards his dad’s car, hoping to catch Kao before he reaches the bus stop down the street; there’s little chance he could catch a cab around here this late at night. He starts the car and the bright glare of the headlights floods the driveway. Then he reaches for the seat belt--

And he stops.

Because there he is, Kao, sitting on the concrete edge of the raised flower bed just a few steps away. He’s sitting there with his shoulders slumped and his head down and his bag is lying on the ground between his feet, its strap dropped from his hand. And now he’s looking away, rubbing at his face with the back of his wrist, wiping away his…

Pete sits there and simply stares at Kao through the windshield, stunned. Kao is crying. In the three years that they’ve been together, Pete’s never seen Kao cry. Not once. He’s seen him sad when they fought and even slightly misty-eyed but he’s never seen him cry. He doesn’t know what to do, what to think, what… The only thing he does know is that it’s making his heart ache.

Pete lets go of the seat belt and turns off the car’s engine. Darkness replaces light, swallowing both the driveway and Kao. Slowly, Pete gets out of the car and shuts the door with a soft click. Then he walks up the paved way towards where Kao is sitting and stops only a few feet away.

For a moment, Pete stands there awkwardly and listens to Kao’s hitching breath, staring at his silhouette in the darkness. Then, in a voice much less belligerent than before, he asks, “What are you doing here?”

Now he truly means his question. Because Kao came to his house in the middle of the night, despite their apparent break-up earlier that evening, and he’s been crying. Because when Pete pushes aside his anger, resentment and frustration, he finds Kao’s late night visit odd and disconcerting. Worrying.

After a moment, Kao takes a raspy breath and says, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry about everything, Pete. I’m sorry that I lied to you and I’m sorry that I didn’t believe you about Non. I made such a mess of things and I’m so very sorry…”

Pete isn’t sure how to react, what to say or do. He wants to dismiss Kao’s words as more lies and empty phrases - but what was so easy before has become very hard now with Kao looking so miserable and unhappy and hurt. Pete’s righteous anger simmers down to almost nothing.

“Why did you lie to me, earlier today? About not seeing Non anymore?” he asks, giving Kao one last chance to explain, after all. The very last one.

Vaguely, he sees Kao raise his head. “I didn’t,” Kao replies.

Pete feels his anger flare up again but he curbs it firmly because Kao seems genuinely confused. He takes a deep breath to steady himself. “I went to your house the other day and he was there, having dinner with you and your mom!” He can’t help his voice rising sharply at the end, though.

“He-he stopped by with a thank you gift from his father,” Kao explains. “Mom invited him in for dinner before I could say anything. But that was all, he ate with us and then he left.” He pauses, then adds hopefully, “You… came to me?”

Pete frowns at his slip-up. He didn’t want Kao to know he was willing to forgive him. That was then. He isn’t anymore. Or, is he? Is he? He doesn’t know.

But since he already said that. “Yes. And I sent you text messages. You didn’t reply.” That last part sounds way too hurt, way too revealing. Damn it!

A pause. “I didn’t get any,” Kao says carefully.

“Bullshit,” Pete can’t help but snap.

“I really didn’t,” Kao insists.

Impossible. Unless… “Did Non have any access to your phone?” Pete did send those messages that evening when Non was there, at Kao’s house. Non’s hand in all this would explain everything.

“No,” Kao replies. Then he pauses, though. “Well… he asked if he could use my charger. I told him it was with my phone. But my phone is password protected.”

Pete sighs and rolls his eyes in exasperation. “Kao, your password is all nines. Your frickin’ name means ‘nine’!” For crying out loud, for someone so smart Kao can be really stupid sometimes.

“Oh,” Kao whispers, lowering his head again.

All of a sudden, though, Pete’s heart feels lighter and his chest loosens up a little. He still wants to strangle Non - or at the very least punch him hard - but Kao did not ignore him on purpose, he wasn’t trying to punish Pete or get back on him. He honestly didn’t know. It makes him wonder where else he might find Non’s dirty fingerprints!

“So… you haven’t seen him since that night? Non, I mean?” Pete asks harshly, hoping against hope. But when Kao doesn’t answer immediately, his heart sinks again.

“I… I did see him tonight,” Kao replies quietly and maybe Pete’s mistaken, it’s hard to tell in the darkness, but he seems to curl up on himself.

The fury that seemed almost gone a moment ago now flares up again in Pete. He clenches his hands into fists and he’s about to snap at Kao, tell him to go to hell, then, but before he can do that, Kao continues and his voice is so soft that even in the quiet of the night he can barely be heard.

“His friend called me, told me that Non got drunk in a bar and there was no one to drive him home. That if nobody did, his dad would find out and…” His voice trails off.

Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me, Pete thinks and he wants to grab Kao and shake him.

Kao goes on. “I brought him home and put him to bed and…” His breath hitches in his throat again, making him pause. “And then he started telling me how much he liked me. And when I told him I didn’t feel the same way, he grabbed me and dragged me to bed with him…”

Suddenly, all of Pete’s annoyance and frustration and irritation is gone, replaced with an unpleasant, cold feeling around his heart and pressure at the base of his throat that’s making it hard to breathe. No. Not even a brat like Non would do this, surely.

He lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding when Kao continues and says, “And then Non’s father came in and Non let me go. I was so scared I ran away. I didn’t even try to explain anything, I just... I ran away. I was so afraid. I didn’t know what to do, where to go. I didn’t want mom to see me like this.” He trails off, his voice breaking at the end, and rubs at his nose.

When Pete realizes that Kao’s crying again, he reaches out without thinking and rests his hand on Kao’s bent head, stroking his hair lightly. “So you came here.” To me, Pete adds quietly. Kao was afraid and he sought out safety with him. Despite their differences, despite all the bad blood between them in the past weeks, deep down he was convinced he would be safe here.

Pete steps up to Kao, so close that his toes brush against Kao’s bag lying forgotten on the ground, and pulls Kao to him. Kao goes willingly, he buries his face in Pete’s chest and wraps his arms around Pete’s waist, and then he cries, whispering, “How did everything go so wrong? I only wanted to help my mom, help… Non. I’ve never wanted any of this. I swear. I swear I didn’t want to hurt you, I love you, Pete. I love you so much…”

Hearing those words, listening to Kao, Pete feels that his heart might burst. He strokes the back of Kao’s head and he wants to curl up around him and hide him from the world and protect him from all the bad things out there. He’s still a little angry at Kao for lying but he feels more willing to accept now that not all of this mess was Kao’s fault, that Non also played his part - and, well, he too, actually, as much as it rankles him to admit it.

“Alright,” Pete says softly, pulling Kao even closer. His own eyes sting a little and he must clear his throat before continuing. “Just… don’t do it again, okay? Don’t lie to me ever again, Kao, I mean it. I get that I’m not always easy to talk to,” he allows a little grumpily, “but… don’t ever go behind my back again, okay? I can take many things... just not lies.”

Kao nods quietly, hugging Pete tighter and Pete feels like he needs it, like he needs to be held because his knees feel a little weak and his head a little light, his relief is so profound. He just got back what he feared lost forever. It doesn’t seem real.

“I feel a little nervous about what Non or his dad might do next,” Kao admits after a while. His voice is a little muffled by Pete’s shirt and he’s leaning against Pete, letting Pete carry his weight the way Pete’s always wanted.

Pete wraps his arms around Kao and reassures him softly, “Whatever happens, we’ll deal with it together. I’ll be there for you, I promise.”

Kao lifts his head from Pete’s chest and even in the night darkness, his eyes still glitter a little when he looks up at Pete and says with a smile in his voice, “Then we’ll be just fine.”

#dark blue kiss #petekao #dbk drama #my petekao fics #my fics #mé

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alexannah · 4 years

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MLB: Fic: Just Keep Digging

I don’t normally post fic straight to tumblr, but this was from a tumblr prompt, so I have. Prompt by @countingdowndays, and then it just kept going ...

Summary: Lila makes a big mistake when showing off one day to the class. But her mistake may turn out to be not such a bad thing for Marinette and Adrien.

Rating: General audiences

Canon/Spoilers: Post-Chameleon (season three); spoilers for Chameleon, The Collector, Gorizilla and Volpina. AU as of Kwami Buster because … well, you’ll see.

(Posted on AO3 and FFnet)

Just Keep Digging by Alexannah

“Your turn, Adrien,” Alya said. “Favourite movie?”

It was breaktime, but raining so hard outside that the sky was almost black. Since the gym was currently occupied by people setting up for an event that evening, all the pupils of François Dupont High School were confined to the other indoor communal areas. Marinette and the rest of her class were in the Literature room, playing an icebreaker game that Miss Bustier had left on her desk.

“Solitude,” he said immediately, a weird smile on his face. The name rang a bell with Marinette, but she couldn’t think why.

There was a slight pause. “Er … I haven’t heard of that one,” Alya said, sounding really surprised that she didn’t know something.

“No, it’s really rare,” Adrien replied.

“Okay … what about it do you like?”

“The lead actress was so good in it. Really amazing. You could really believe she was the character Maria.” He still had a strange smile on his face, a kind of misty expression in his eyes. For a moment Marinette almost wondered if he had a crush on the actress, but decided it wasn’t something romantic at all. She couldn’t figure out what it was.

“Oh, I’ve seen that,” Lila spoke up. “She is good, isn’t she?”

Marinette gritted her teeth as Adrien just nodded distantly.

“And she’s awesome in real life too. Such a lovely person. I’ve met her lots of times.”

Adrien stiffened, but no-one else seemed to notice. Marinette hadn’t seen him do that before when Lila lied; he usually just sort of sighed and ignored it—

Then she finally remembered why the name of the movie sounded familiar, and her mouth fell open.

Oh, no! She doesn’t get to do this! Not his mom! I’m not letting her—

She hadn’t even been aware of rising from her seat in fury, opening her mouth to shut Lila up, but Adrien suddenly touched her arm and shot her a look that clearly said Don’t.

It took all Marinette’s willpower to restrain her protective instincts that wanted to just slam Lila’s lying head into a brick wall.

Lila prattled on obliviously. “… we met a few years ago, and instantly bonded.”

Adrien nodded a little, flooring Marinette. Wait, he wasn’t going to correct her?

“… why, only last week, we had coffee together …”

Marinette ground her teeth, trying so hard to contain her fury, her hands clenched so tightly together her nails were really hurting her palms. Alya kept giving her worried looks.

“Did you, really?” Adrien interrupted. His tone was slightly questioning, but not in a doubtful way—more like he was just having a little trouble comprehending what a good opportunity had come his way. “Last week, you say?”

How does he do that?

“Oh, yes! She’s so nice.”

“Uh-huh.” He paused for a moment. “What’s her name?”

Lila blinked, slightly wrong-footed, and everyone else looked puzzled. “E-er … well, between you and me, she goes by … Maria; you know, after the character she played. Because it was her favourite role.”

It would have been a good save, under any other circumstances.

“I meant her real name.” Finally a little hardness had crept into Adrien’s tone, which seemed to confuse the others. “You must know that, if you’ve met her so much.”

“Um …” Beads of sweat appeared across Lila’s forehead. “Well, right from the beginning, she asked me to call her Maria—”

“So look it up,” he said, now distinctively coldly.

“Er, dude?” Nino asked curiously. “Something wrong?”

Lila fumbled for her phone.

Adrien repeated the film title and the year it was made, surprisingly calmly.

Despite how (albeit unintentionally) hurtful and horrible Lila’s lies had been this time, Marinette could not help feeling a very smug satisfaction as Lila clearly found the right webpage. All the colour drained from her face.

“E-er …” she stammered.

“Yes?” Adrien pressed.

“It’s … Emilie,” she said hesitantly.

“Surname?” he demanded.

She gulped. “A-Agreste.”

Everyone else gasped, and a stunned silence fell.

“So where exactly did you meet my mom last week?” Adrien said clearly, folding his arms. “I’d be very interested to know, especially since no-one else, including me, has seen her in nearly a year.”

Their classmates all turned to stare at Lila, who was now growing steadily more scarlet in the face.

“You know, Lila, after I saw Ladybug deny she had ever even met you, I could have told everyone you were a liar. But I didn’t, because I made the mistake of not thinking it was worth it. I didn’t want to expose you as a liar, because I don’t like hurting people. But what you just did was not cool, and I really wish now I’d told the truth earlier.”

“A-Adrien, I’m so sorry! I didn’t know—”

“That’s not the point. Your lies can hurt people, whether you mean them to or not, and—I wish I’d realised that sooner. I don’t want to hear another word out of your mouth unless it’s honest.”

The silence that followed in the classroom was astronomical. Adrien took a deep breath and turned around. “Marinette, I’m really sorry.”

“You’re not the one who has to apologise, Adrien,” Marinette replied, giving Lila a filthy look.

“I mean for not coming forward and backing you up before. Everyone’s been giving you such a hard time because you didn’t buy her tall tales; I should have said something. I wish I had earlier.”

“Y-you were right about her,” Alya stammered. “I’m sorry too, Marinette; I really just thought you were just jea—I mean … I should have trusted you.”

The others started falling over themselves to apologise for not believing her too, everyone speaking at once. Marinette got the gist, however.

“It’s okay, everyone. I forgive you. I know it looked like I was just paranoid. She was good.”

“How did you know she was lying, anyway?” Alya asked.

Marinette flashed back to the time Alya had asked her that recently, remembering that when she had started to reply, she had become flustered out of fear of revealing she was Ladybug. But Adrien’s admitting to what he had witnessed between Ladybug and Lila had just given her an idea.

“I was actually in the park that day.” She turned to look at Adrien. “When you and Lila were together, and then Ladybug turned up?”

“Oh.”

“I didn’t want to say anything, since it was that incident which turned her into Volpina. But now everyone knows about it anyway …”

“You were really there?” Adrien asked, sounding confused.

Marinette could practically hear Alya thinking Yeah, totally spying on you, dude, behind her smirk.

“Y-yeah. I, er …” Marinette quickly searched for an explanation that was less humiliating than admitting she had gone all green-eyed monster, and remembered the other reason why she had been there. “I saw you two in the library earlier, just when she stole your book.”

Adrien’s eyes widened. “Wait, what?” He turned quickly to Lila.

“I followed her, intending to confront her about it. I saw her looking at it, then go into a jewellery store and come out again with that necklace she passed off as a Miraculous.” Which was the truth.

“Which she then used to try and make me believe she was really descended from a superhero,” Adrien said slowly.

“Wow, Lila,” Alya said, sounding disgusted. “Marinette was right; everything that comes out your mouth is a big fat lie.”

Lila burst into tears, but Marinette was not in the least bit sympathetic. Nor, it seemed, was anyone else.

“Wait—so you took my father’s book?” Adrien said suddenly, looking back at Lila. “The one I was grounded for losing?”

Uh-oh. Marinette realised the great flaw in her plan. Yes, Lila had taken it, but then Marinette had stolen it from her …

“Uh …” Lila stammered.

“Does that mean—you’re the one who—”

“I’m sorry!” she wailed. “I’ll—I’ll tell him it was me, okay? I just panicked when I saw you coming and dropped it in the bin—”

“What?”

Marinette mentally facepalmed. She had really dug herself in deep this time.

“I’ll buy him another copy!” Lila cried.

“It’s one of a kind,” Adrien said, staring at her in complete confusion. “And he said one of my friends had found and returned it.”

There was a slight pause, then all heads turned to Marinette, who flushed deeply.

“I saw her drop it in the bin, so when you were gone I retrieved it,” she said awkwardly.

Adrien frowned. “Why didn’t you just give it back to me?”

“Um …” Because my Kwami made me show it to the Guardian of the Miraculous, who said he thought Hawk Moth owned it, so then I thought you might be a supervillain, and then I suspected your dad, and then after he was akumatized Cat Noir and I concluded it couldn’t have been him, so I went back to Master Fu, who took a photograph of every page before I gave it back to your dad.

But she could hardly say all of that.

“… I got distracted looking through it?” she tried desperately. “It was very cool, all those pictures of superheroes. And … when I heard you got in trouble for it, I went to return it; but on the way I saw on the news your dad had been akumatized, so I thought I should probably wait until Ladybug and Cat Noir had sorted him out.”

Adrien was now looking at her very strangely, and she wasn’t sure she could read his expression anymore. Her lie had been plausible, right?

“Well, this has been interesting,” Nino said, breaking the now really awkward silence. “What are we going to do about her?”

They all looked back at the red-faced Lila.

“Nothing,” Adrien said finally. “Knowing we all know she’s a liar is punishment enough.”

Apparently unable to handle the glares from them all anymore, Lila scrambled to her feet and fled the classroom. Marinette wondered if she would find another way of avoiding school for months, and hoped she would.

For a few moments no-one spoke. Adrien finally mumbled an excuse and left the classroom. Marinette was just wondering whether or not to follow him, to make sure he was okay, when Alya grabbed her arm.

“So … you knew Lila was talking about Adrien’s mom, right?”

Marinette nodded. “Um, you remember the day Adrien and I were pursued through Paris by his adoring fans …”

Alya giggled, nodding.

“Well, he had snuck out to see that movie. We only managed to make it through the first few seconds, however, before the fan mob caught up with us. And then his bodyguard was akumatized, and things got kind of chaotic from there.”

While the girls who had been following Marinette and Adrien’s internet trail that day all giggled, she looked back at the closing door, and made her decision. “I’ll be right back. I just want to check on Adrien.”

She received an I’m sure you do smirk from Alya, and knowing grins from everyone else.

It took a while to find him, but finally she came across him sitting on a bench in the locker room. He was hunched over, muttering something apparently to himself, looking quite lost and sad.

“Adrien?”

He jumped and looked up. “Oh—Marinette.”

“Are you okay?” She sat down next to him, and after a moment’s hesitation put her arm around his shoulders. He tensed slightly, and she wondered if she’d made a mistake, but after a second he relaxed, and even leaned towards her slightly.

“Not particularly. I’m really sorry, Marinette.”

“It’s not your fault. I know you just wanted to take the high road.”

He nodded. “I did. But it wasn’t the right decision. I realise that now. I wish it hadn’t taken that for me to see her lies could be really hurtful. If I hadn’t known she was a liar already … I could have actually have believed her for a moment.”

“I don’t think you’re that gullible, Adrien. Um, not that I’m saying everyone else is gullible. But knowing what you knew about your mom … I don’t think you would have fallen for that.”

“I’ve spent the last year wanting to believe my mom’s out there somewhere. If I had been taken in, even for a moment …” His voice cracked.

“Realising it was a lie would have been unspeakably horrible,” Marinette supplied quietly.

Adrien nodded, closing his eyes. “I … suppose I owe Ladybug one for exposing her.”

Marinette felt the safest thing to say at this point was “Mm.”

He rubbed his eyes—Marinette wondered if he was wiping away unshed tears—and sat up straighter, opening them. She reluctantly withdrew her arm from his shoulders, sensing now was the moment to do so.

“Speaking of Ladybug … Can I ask you something?”

“Of course,” Marinette said immediately, hoping desperately it wasn’t going to be something awkward for her to answer.

“Well … when my father became The Collector …” Adrien hesitated. “I … heard that Ladybug and Cat Noir actually showed up at my house before they knew he had been akumatized,” he said very slowly.

“Th-they did?”

“Yeah.” Adrien’s eyes narrowed slightly as he looked at her. “I never really thought about the timing, but … now you mention it … my father did have a book on superheroes …”

“Um, so?”

“I was just wondering if maybe … Ladybug somehow knew about the book?”

Marinette gulped. “Um, maybe you could ask her?”

There was a long pause while he gave her a hard look.

“I think I am.”

NO NO NO NO NO NO NO! He can’t mean—he can’t know I’m Ladybug!!! Marinette panicked.

“Wh-what, you mean me?” she squeaked, not sounding very convincing to her own ears. “Me, be Ladybug? Only in my dreams! Um, I mean … Of course I’m not Ladybug! I’m a total klutz!”

“True,” he agreed, and Marinette wasn’t sure she liked his agreement. “A very endearing klutz,” he added with a small smile, and she felt a little better. “But maybe magic superhero powers can make people seem … different? Ladybug could be really clumsy in normal life.” He paused. “Cat Noir could be a really shy insecure guy who has trouble standing up to people.”

“Cat Noir, shy? Pfft, yeah right—um,” Marinette added quickly, “I mean … it doesn’t seem very likely to me.”

“Right,” he said slowly. “So if I were to tell you I have reason to believe Ladybug and Cat Noir came to my house because they suspected my father might be Hawk Moth …?”

Marinette’s eyes widened.

Wait. How does he know that??? Neither of us saw him that day! And we never said anything about that to anyone else in the house—

“Th-they thought your dad was Hawk Moth?” she stammered. “Seriously?”

“Yeah. Though obviously he wasn’t. But that’s why they were there. I think.”

He seemed to be waiting for something, but Marinette wasn’t sure what reaction he was expecting.

“Well … that’s good,” she tried. “I mean, it’s bad they still don’t know who Hawk Moth is—as far as we know, anyway—but a good thing for you it’s not your dad. I’m very glad it’s not your dad.” And that was the truth. At the time she had been so relieved that Adrien was not Hawk Moth, she hadn’t given much thought as to how bad his father being a supervillain would be for him. It hardly bore thinking about. She couldn’t express how relieved she had been later, once the thought had occurred, that they had ruled him out.

“Thanks. Me too.” He hesitated again. “So … did you happen to show that book to anyone? Anyone who might have thought that, because my father owned a book all about Miraculouses …?”

Marinette swore in her head. He was onto her, she knew it. If she said ‘no’, he would only have more reason to believe she was Ladybug. But if he said ‘yes’, he might ask who she had shown it to, and think that person was Ladybug! And then what would she say?

She tried deflecting the question. “Are you sure that’s what Ladybug and Cat Noir were doing there? Maybe they have some way of sensing when someone is akumatized. Or about to be akumatized.”

“They don’t,” he said shortly, with a little too much conviction for her liking. “I-I mean … if they did, wouldn’t they have been on the scene much quicker with all the other villains?”

“Well, maybe they were at your house for another reason. Maybe they’re fashion fans?” It sounded like a really lame reason even to her. Even if she knew that it was true for Ladybug at least.

“Or maybe you are Ladybug and you’re just trying to make me think you’re not.”

Shoot.

Adrien leaned towards her slightly. “What if I promised you,” he said quietly, taking her hand in his, “that I can keep a secret?”

Marinette was finding it really hard not to get completely flustered by the fact he was holding her hand! “I-I’m not Ladybug!” she squeaked. He raised his eyebrows. “A-and aren’t superheroes n-not supposed to tell anyone who they are?”

“And how would you know that if you weren’t one?” he said, his tone slightly teasing.

“You know I’m best friends with Ladybug and Cat Noir’s biggest fan, right?”

“Yeah, I know.” A light seemed to come on in Adrien’s eyes. “A big fan who has managed to get the elusive Ladybug to personally appear on her blog voluntarily more times than any other media outlet.”

“S-so? Lots of people like the Ladyblog! It’s not strange that Ladybug likes it too! She obviously has good taste.”

Adrien seemed to consider that. “Maybe not perfect taste. After all, from what I can see, she isn’t into Cat Noir.”

“Maybe she prefers a different kind of boy to the one that’s always showing off,” Marinette said before she could stop herself.

Adrien raised his eyebrows. “Oh, yeah? What kind of boy would that be?”

“I-I don’t know … someone like you?” she blurted, then groaned and buried her head in her hands. I cannot believe I just said that!

There was a long silence.

Why isn’t he saying anything? Does he know I like him? Argh! And I thought him figuring out I was Ladybug was bad!

Okay, that’s bad too. But if he doesn’t feel the same way, this will be completely humiliating!

“Marinette?”

She couldn’t look up. Couldn’t bring herself to meet his eyes. His gorgeous green eyes.

“Marinette … do you like me?”

“Um …” She tried to gather her thoughts before finally looking up. “Of course! I mean … we’re friends, of course I like you!”

She couldn’t read the look in his eyes, but was sure he wasn’t buying it. However, he didn’t appear to have been completely repulsed by the thought of her liking him, so that was something.

In fact, he seemed to have moved closer to her without her noticing. They were only centimetres apart.

“I meant as more than a friend,” he said gently. He sounded … hopeful?

Hopeful was good. Hopeful meant … he did like her too???

Marinette swallowed nervously. “U-um … m-maybe?” she said, feeling herself go scarlet.

There was a pause. “So … if I told you I had a crush on Ladybug …”

WHAT???

“… would it bother you, or make you happy?” he said, a smile playing on his lips.

Marinette’s first thought was he was messing with her, trying to gauge whether she really was Ladybug. But Adrien wasn’t like that! He wouldn’t toy with her feelings, especially not just to find out her secret. Did that mean he really did have a crush on Ladybug???

There were three ways she could play this. She could pretend to be disappointed … then go and see him later transformed, tell him that Marinette had told her he liked her …

Right. Like he wouldn’t see through that instantly. And even if he doesn’t, that leaves me possibly dating him as a superhero, which would not really be good for his safety once people found out!

The second way would be to quickly deny she had feelings for him after all, and just … not be with him. At all. Ever. This option did not appeal in the least.

That just left being honest.

“Adrien …” she said faintly.

He gently cupped her cheek with his hand, and she felt like she was going to faint. “For the record, I think I’ve figured out how to tell when you’re lying.”

Well, that sold it. If she couldn’t get out of this him-suspecting-she-was-Ladybug thing, what was the point in trying?

“You can’t tell anyone.”

His face lit up, and it was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen. “You are Ladybug. I knew it!”

“D-did you really mean it when you said … y-you had a crush—”

“You already know the answer to that question,” he said, then very deliberately, “milady.”

“I think Cat Noir wouldn’t like you calling me that.”

He grinned. “You really think so? Bugaboo?”

Did he just—

For a moment Marinette was startled, then remembered Cat Noir had called her that plenty of times in public and on air.

“Very funny.”

He frowned slightly. “Er … what?”

“Um, I don’t know if you realise this, but he’s … kind of got a crush on me too. It’s not just playful flirting. So out of respect for his feelings … perhaps calling me what he calls me is not the best idea?”

To her astonishment, Adrien burst out laughing.

“What’s so funny?” Marinette demanded, face heating up again. Oh goodness, had this all been some kind of joke? Had he been teasing her all along? She turned away, hiding her face again, completely mortified.

“Marinette! Sorry, I didn’t mean—I just thought you’d have figured it out by now. You’re the smart one, after all.”

“You—what? Figure what out?”

“Well for starters, how I knew Ladybug and Cat Noir thought my father might be Hawk Moth.” Her head shot up. “And,” he added, “why … I suggested Cat Noir might be … a bit different when he’s not being Cat Noir.”

Marinette stared at him, numb in disbelief, as what he had said slowly sank in.

Adrien hesitantly leaned in even closer. “With your permission, milady?” he whispered.

She responded with an unintelligible noise which he apparently took for an affirmative. Adrien closed his eyes and kissed her.

It was the best moment of her entire life.

When they parted, Marinette slid off the bench in a dead faint.

The End

Author’s Notes:

I’m tempted to write a sequel one-shot dealing with everyone else’s reactions to their relationship, but not sure if I have enough material for it. We’ll see.

This had not been meant to turn into a reveal fic! When the subject of Lila’s lies about Ladybug came up, I couldn’t resist bringing up the book, and then Adrien putting two and two together … Three times during writing this, I found I kept going beyond where I had planned to end it. But I’m very happy with the result! My first (finished and posted) reveal fic.

@bowser14456 @gajer-1226 @sturchling @melicmusicmagic @g-arya @legallyspawned. New to tagging, couldn’t make @officialmiraclequeen work?

#miraculous ladybug #miraculous lb #fanfiction #miraculous ladybug fanfiction #adrienette #lila rossi #marinette dupain cheng #adrien agreste #lila liar #miraculous identity reveal

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crazywritingbug · 4 years

Text

Scars - Leonardo

2016 Leonardo x Fem!Reader

So this is an series idea I am playing with so this oneshot is my test run if you will! Let me know what you think in extreme detail. (Especially you @missbeautyandherbeast, you’re my favorite TMNT writer)

Also while I picture this as 2016 TMNT, feel free to use whichever version you prefer! As with all my works, this is SFW even if is angsty.

Leonardo had failed. He knew it the moment he saw the blood dripping down her face and off her chin to splatter to the ground thirty stories below. Three cuts, slicing their way from the edge of Y/N’s pale face inwards toward her raspberry red lips, just barely missing her left eye.

“Make a move and I drop the girl.” The Shredder didn’t really need to say so. Not with how he held her over the edge of the building, her feet dangling. Leo couldn’t breathe. His failure to protect the one girl he loved had caused this. He’d caused this.

“We can take him,” Raphael muttered from his spot beside Leo. He was tense, ready to attack, probably tired of holding back as Leo had commanded. But he wasn’t ready to risk her life further. Not that Raph knew why. None of them knew about Y/N. She’d been Leo’s secret, his solace, and his light for the past year. He wasn’t going to go into this with some kind of plan. If only he could think clearly enough to come up with one. To come up with some way to break this standoff and save her. Then his gaze met hers and his racing heart skipped a beat at the fear that stirred there.

“Leo…” She spoke, her voice faint from the Shredder’s grip on her throat. “I trust you.”

His racing thoughts stilled. She trusted him. After the way that her ex had treated her, her trust didn’t come easy. But Y/N trusted him. Even if he was the reason she was here, she trusted him to save her. That was all he needed to hear and all he needed to know. He wouldn’t fail her this time.

“You get him.” Leo adjusted his grip on his katanas, slid them into their sheaths. “I’ll get her.” He bolted into action, towards the Shredder. At that moment, every detail came into focus and time slowed.

The Shredder’s release of her neck.

Her H/C locks flying up as she fell down and the air rushing around him as he leaped after her, reaching for her.

The building rushing by.

Fingertips brushing.

The fear in her eyes.

The ground growing closer.

Then he had her and the world sped up again.

Pulling her close against him, Leo yanked the grappling gun from his belt and fired it at the building. His shoulder and arm screamed in protest as their descent stopped, swinging towards the building instead. This was going to hurt. Twisting, Leo took the impact on his shell. Glass and metal gave way, letting them tumble painfully into the empty office building. Thank NYPD for evacuating the building. Leo lay there for a moment, trying to catch his breath and feeling Y/N shake against him. Too close. That had been far too close.

Sucking in a deep breath, Leo eased himself up into a sitting position, cradling her close as her sobs echoed in the empty building. Somehow, it sunk in all over again just how badly his failure had hurt her, how much danger he’d put her in. But she was here and alive.

“You’re okay.” He lied sweetly and --hopefully-- soothingly. “It’s okay...you’re safe now. I’m right here…” He pressed a kiss to her forehead as her sobs subsided, even if the tears still flowed. Tears he’d caused. Leo tried to wipe them away, only for Y/N to flinch away when he accidentally brushed the cuts. Crap. He just couldn’t fix this, could he?

“Leo…” She whispered it looking up at him as tears glistened on her lashes. “Your brothers...You need to help them…” His brothers, they were going up against the Shredder. The Shredder, he was going to tear him apart.

“Think you could get out of here on your own?” He muttered, nothing in him wanting to let her go. She nodded even as he nuzzled her neck, blinking back tears of his own. Could he let her leave so soon? Would she be safe? Even with their allies? “Casey and April are down with the NYPD outside, get to them.” He didn’t have to command it as he did with his brothers. He never did with her.

“Alright…” She was still trembling as she stood, pulling him up with her. He didn’t know what to say as he looked down at her. Everybody was small compared to him, but Y/N had never looked this tiny or so fragile.

“Be careful Leo,” She whispered, standing on her tiptoes as he kissed her gently, afraid she would break beneath his touch.

“I will.” He promised, trying to smile for her as he pulled away. “Now hurry.” He hated watching her go, but he had a city to save and quite possibly, an explanation to give his brothers.

***

Some part of Leo had hoped his brothers had forgotten about how he froze up at the sight of Y/N, maybe forgotten about her completely. Or at least long enough for him to formulate an explanation. Raph didn’t give him that.

“Alright fearless,” Raph snapped as soon as they finished briefing the police chief. “What happened up there? Why’d ya go all misty-eyed over that chick?”

“Yeah dude!”Mikey chimed in before Leo could answer. “You totally froze like a popsicle.”

“Great comparison Mikey.” Y/N smiled at the turtle in orange as she joined the group.

Leo let out a sigh of relief at the sight of her. She was okay. Her face and neck were clean of blood, even if he could see some dried in her hair that was now pulled back in a messy bun.

Mikey’s jaw dropped slightly. “You know my name?”

Y/N ignored him as she laid a hand on Leo’s forearm. “Are you alright?” Her voice was soft with worry, her smile vanishing.

“I’m fine.” He assured her, tucking a hand under her chin and tilting her face to see the wounds better. They weren’t deep looking, but chances were that they would scar. He hated the idea of that. Not because of her appearance, she’d always be beautiful and nothing could change that, but because she’d be forced to wear the consequences of his failure and his inability to protect her.

“Those should be bandaged.” He muttered as her hand moved from his forearm to his wrist, her touch gentle and gaze loving. He didn’t deserve to be looked at like that. Not after today.

“The medic tried,” She said, “The bandages wouldn’t stay, and besides, it’s stopped bleeding.” That didn’t mean they wouldn’t end up infected but Leo held his tongue. He was no doctor.

“Ya planning on introducing us, fearless?” Raph snapped, drawing their attention. Holding back a sharp response, Leo dropped his hand from her face, taking her hand instead. She pressed close, almost shyly. Then again, Raph was glaring while Mikey and Donnie stared.

“Guys, this is my girlfriend, Y/N.” It felt good to say that allowed, to let the precious secret out. She offered a smile and a small wave to his brother’s shocked expressions.

“How’d you catch a cutie like her?” Mikey gaped.

“Mikey…” Leo meant for it to be a warning, but Y/N hadn’t even blushed.

“We’re both just really lucky.” She smiled, squeezing his hand gently, reassuring him. He’d known she was loyal, but seeing that proved made his heart do a small dance.

“Miss Y/N!” An officer called out. “Your father is here!”

“Thank you!” Y/N answered before looking back at Leo. “I’ll see you later, just make sure to get some rest before I do.”

“As you wish.” He chuckled at how the reference made her flush. She loved that book, and loved that he had read it for her. He pressed a kiss to her forehead, ignoring how Raph pretended to gag. He couldn’t help but worry as she walked away. She’d been taken once, what if it happened again? What if he couldn’t save her again? What if he failed all over again on a whole other level?

“Leo, can you please explain this statistical improbability?” Donnie asked and Leo turned back to his brothers and quite possibly an argument.

***

How could the sight of her cause him so much pain when she was his peace? It was stupid, considering how much he loved her, but he couldn’t stand the sight of the angry red stripes on her face. Even as they began to heal, all that he saw there was a reminder of his failure. Of how he nearly got her killed. It made his heart twist violently in his chest, it made every gentle touch painful and every sweet kiss bitter. He didn’t deserve her, and she didn’t deserve a failure like him.

He couldn’t take it anymore.

“Leo, are you okay?” Y/N asked as he landed on the fire escape. She always knew when he was struggling with something, she knew when the walls went up inside of him. He needed those walls right then. Yet, even with them, he couldn’t hold her gaze.

“I…” He had a speech planned out, but it had vanished from his memory. “I’m breaking up with you.” There he’d said it. Plain and simple, like a shattered heart. He watched with a crumbling will as her jaw dropped and pain flooded her eyes.

“What?” She whispered it at first, but her voice rose slightly as she spoke. “Leo, why? Did… Did I do something wrong?” No never. She could never do something wrong that he couldn’t forgive. He was the one who’d done something wrong. It made it all the harder. Would it be easier...would it be easier if he could get Y/N to hate him? Get her to hate him as much as he hated himself for this?

“No,” He shook his head. “I just can’t do this anymore.” The walls were trembling, crumbling. He had to do this quickly.

“Do what?” She asked, her voice cracking. He didn’t answer, he was too busy patching up his defenses. “Do what?” Her voice was firm now. “Leonardo! What can’t you do anymore?” He couldn’t tell her the truth. That he was ashamed, that he could barely look at her because all he saw was his failure.

“Leonardo.”

“I can’t keep pretending I love you.” There. The lie that would make this easier. Make her hate him. But when he met her gaze, he didn’t see hate there. Just a broken and crushed heart. He noted Y/N hands curling into fists, blinking back tears as anger flooded her eyes.

“Get lost, Leonardo.” She hissed it. “I never want to see you again.” There, she hated him.

It didn’t make it hurt less.

***

“Leonardo,” Splinter’s voice cut through his gloomy thoughts. “How is Y/N? She has not visited in a while.” That was no help at all. It had been nearly two months since Leo had crushed her. Since he’d spoken to her. And he still couldn’t seem to catch his breath.

“I don’t know,” Leo muttered, running a cloth over the blade of his katana. How could one sentence cause all of his brothers to freeze?

“How the hell do you not know how yer own girlfriend is doing?” Raph turned from the punching bag he’d been pummeling.

“Ex-girlfriend.” Leo corrected, looking back down to his weapons. “We- I broke up with her about two months ago.”

“That explains your change in appetite,” Donnie muttered even as Mikey gasped.

“Dude, how do you dump a girl like her?” He questioned. Yeah, how could Leo? How could he break her like that?

“Leonardo, you worked well with each other.” Splinter spoke kindly, “She both motivated you to hold yourself to a higher standard and taught you to forgive yourself for your shortcomings. What is it that caused this?” Leo did, because of the one thing he couldn’t forgive himself for.

“She deserves better.” He grumbled, sliding his katana into its sheath. “I failed to protect her and she paid the price. I don’t deserve her.”

“Wait this is about the Shedder incident isn’t it?” Mikey asked and Leo nodded.

“Yer right about one thing,” Raph growled, stalking over to him. “Ya don’t deserve her because yer pride can’t handle being reminded of yer failure every time ya look at her.” The truth sounded so terrible as it hung in the air. It was painful too, but since when was Raph so observant?

“Wait, Raph is right?” Donnie asked and Leo nodded.

“You must fix this.” Splinter instructed. “Y/N has loved you, a tender and precious thing. For you to cast that and her aside will have broken her.” Did she love him? They’d never actually said that they loved each other, not with words, but Leo had never doubted it. Not when he saw it in her stunning eyes, felt it in her touch, and heard it in her gentle tones. But there was no chance that she loved him now.

“Simply put,” Raph rolled his eyes. “Yer an idiot.”

“Way to make me feel better Raph.” Leo grumbled.

“Do you still love her, man?” Mikey asked gently. His youngest brother was always so good at talking things through.

Leo nodded. “Of course I do. I never stopped and I don’t think I ever will. I wish I told her that. I want to tell her that. But I screwed everything up.”

“Give me yer phone.” Raph held out his hand until Leo handed it over. What harm could it do? She probably wouldn’t answer. All it took was half a minute of ringing for him to be surprised.

“Hello? Leo?” Her voice was as beautiful as ever. A stunning arrow to his heart as they all listened.

“Hey Y/N, it’s Raph.”

“Oh hey, Raph.” Was that disappointment in her voice? “What’s up?”

“We need ya to talk to Leo. He’s-” She cut Raph off.

“I can’t.” Her tone was sharp enough to startle him. The last time he’d heard her speak like that was when she was scolding her dog for attempting to chew on his knee pad.

“I can’t.” She repeated, her voice softer with hurt. “I just don’t think I could handle seeing him right now. I...I still love him, Raph. But it still hurts. After what he said, just seeing his name pop up on my screen when he called hurts.” Leo sank farther into his seat, shame pulling him down even as hope made his heart race. She still loved him? Could he still have a chance? He’d failed to make her hate him, but that was a failure he would gladly live with.

“You…” Y/N spoke into the momentary silence. “You don’t know what he said do you?”

“No.” Raph shook his head as he answered. “Just that he’s been moping around her for the past two months.”

“I can’t forget them Raph…” Her voice shook. “Can’t forget that he said ‘I can’t keep pretending I love you.’” Raph cursed but all Leo could hear was the single sob that came from the speaker. He really had broken her.

“I’m gonna beat him to a pulp…” The hothead muttered. “But Y/N, I know for a fact he didn’t mean it. And judging by all his pouting, he regrets it.”

“Don’t mess with me like this.” She was begging. Was she fighting hope like he was?

“I ain’t messing with ya,” Raph assured her. “Just meet with him once, and give the jerk a chance to explain.” Leo never hated silence like he did at that moment.

“Fine. Tomorrow night.” She agreed. “He’ll know where to meet me.” The rooftop of her apartment building and the garden that was there. It was their space, where they’d meet in the dark of the night during the summer and until the cold sent them hiding in her apartment.

“I’ll tell him.” Raph said. “And Y/N thanks. This probably isn’t easy for ya.”

“Not at all.” He could almost see her shaking her head. “Bye Raph.” Leo had just enough time between her hanging up and Raph lunging for him to let out a sigh of relief. He might just have a chance to fix this.

***

When was the last time he was this nervous? This anxious as he waited in their place? There were so many memories here. He could see them everywhere and each and every one had her. Y/N sitting beneath the palm tree in the corner, book in her lap as she scribbled notes. The time they hid behind the rose trellis from the old lady who’d wandered up there looking for a cat. That first kiss. That was a special memory. He’d gotten caught up in a fight on his way there, had been late and arrived to see her pacing with worry. She been so relieved he was alright she’d kissed him full on the lips. He could still see her shy expression as she pulled away, as if suddenly aware of what she’d done. Until he kissed her.

“Leo?” He spun around at the sound of her voice. She really was there now.

“Y/N.” He could only breathe her name. She was just as stunning as he remembered, her hair falling freely, her gaze searching his face, and the lips he craved. The figure that she hated but he loved, and the necklace he’d given her as a Christmas present. Then she tilted her head and the moonlight fell over her scars. They stood out harshly, beautifully against her skin. How could something so brutal, only make her more stunning and cause so much shame to flood through him?

“I’m sorry.” It was all he could say, as he dropped his gaze down to his hands. “I messed up and I lied and said something I never should have and never meant because I didn’t want to admit why I walked away.” There is was. Plain and painful, but truthful.

“So why did you walk away?” He could feel her step closer. “Why did you walk away after I’ve trusted you and…” She hesitated, “loved you? Why didn’t you trust me enough to tell me why?”

“I was…I am ashamed…” The words wouldn’t stop and only came faster as she came closer. “I failed, I failed to protect you and you paid the price. I was prideful and ashamed and-” She was close now, he could see her blue sneakers, her hand reaching out and taking his.

“My scars.” She whispered it. “Every time you looked at me, you felt like you failed all over again. Like we’re back on that roof with the Shredder. Don’t you?” He nodded, even as the fear rushed in anew. What would she do? What would she do knowing that he could barely look at her? That she really didn’t deserve him with his pride, selfishness, and failures?

“Leo, I love my scars.” Her words caused his head to jerk up in his surprise. He searched her expression, looking for some confirmation. The soft smile was that.

“Why?” He questioned, “How?”

“I love my scars because they reminded me that regardless of what trouble I get into, you’re always there.” She spoke almost passionately as if she had to convince him. “They remind me that everything will be okay because I am not alone. Because you’re my hero.” Sweet Y/N. So precious, too good for him. He may have been her hero, but she was his angel.

“I am so sorry…” He pulled her into a hug, whispered the words into her hair, breathing in the sweet strawberry smell that hung around her. “I thought if I could get you to hate me, things would be easier. I never meant what I said.”

“I know.” She pulled back slightly, playing with the ends of his mask. He loved it when she did that. “And Leo, I love you too much to ever hate you.”

“I love you too.” He muttered, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “Will you have me back?”

“Of course. So long as you trust me as I trust you--completely.” Their lips brushed even as she spoke.

“I wouldn’t have any other way.”

Until that night, Leo never knew just how trusting a kiss could be.

#tmnt #leonardo hamato #tmnt 2016 #trust #oneshot #reader #y/n #fanfic #insert reader #leonardo x reader

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