#didn't proof read

You’re standing at your locker; spinning the lock rhythmically, whispering the number code to yourself for memory purposes.

Suddenly, you hear a slam next to you. You jump at the noise.

It was a guy who you think you've seen before around school. He was tall, dirty blonde, sports gear sticking out of his bag, probably older than you– just your average asshole teenage boy.

You give him a quick side glance and a condescending smile that quickly leaves your face, he’s already smirking when you look over.

“Hey,” he greets, his voice low.

“Uh, hi?” you reply, confused.

You keep your gaze on the stuff in your locker; grabbing stuff then setting it back down, rearranging stuff, just anything to not make eye contact.

He’s leaning against the locker next to yours like this is some cheesy romcom, very cliche…

“I just thought i’d come over and tell you, you look good.” his gaze strong and not breaking.

Now you’re completely and totally uncomfortable.

You give a fake smile and shut your locker, “thanks… I actually really have to go to class now.” Your words are quick and you try to cover up the way your voice shook.

You walk down the hallway, not giving him the opportunity to say another word.

You were now out in the courtyard, getting some fresh air during your free period, joined by your group of friends.

You see something– or rather, someone, in your peripheral. You glance over and see the same guy from earlier. You let out a quiet groan.

You turn over to Stiles, “thats the guy from earlier… the guy who was hitting on me in the hallway this morning.” You whisper, hoping he’s not approaching. Maybe he wouldn’t see you…

But he did.

He starts walking up to you, you’ve already made eye contact. You just wanted to crawl in a hole and die.

“Hey, you’re the pretty girl I was talking to earlier, I wish our conversation didn’t get cut short. How ‘bout we go talk somewhere else, I wanna get to know you.”

You could tell what he wanted.

You look over and Stiles’ jaw is clenched tight, you could tell.

“Uhm-” you start, you didn’t know what to say, but it didn’t matter because you were cut-off quickly.

“Well, she’s actually already having a conversation over here, so how about you wait your turn.” Stiles spoke up.

Everyone's heads turned to him, not really expecting him to say that.

He scoffed, amused by the confrontation, (because what snarky, egocentric teenage boy isn't?)

“Are you her boyfriend or something? ‘Cuz I have a hard time believing that.” he retorted.

You sat there, unsure what to do. You didn’t know if you should step in or just let them go at it… Stiles usually had your back and he frequently won verbal arguments.

But, you saw as his fists clenched and his jaw tightened.

“Stiles, It’s okay, I can defend myself.” You mumbled to him.

“Yeah, she’s fine. Just back off man, we’re just gonna go talk.” He sneered.

“Well I just don’t think she wants to talk to you, I mean who would? Really- anyone with a brain can tell what you really want to do, I think she knows you don’t want to just talk.” Stiles argued.

We all shared surprised glances with each other, none of us saying a word.

The older boy ran his tongue across his teeth, smirking. He shook his head and let out a breathy laugh.

“Well- i’m not gonna deny it, but I mean, she’s the one who decided to wear that shirt… She’s honestly asking-” he’s quickly cut off by a loud thud-like sound.

Your jaw drops when you see Stiles shaking his hand off and the guy who was previously borderline harassing you holding the side of his face.

But, to no avail, he’s quick to start throwing punches back at Stiles… and they’re far more powerful than his.

Scott quickly gets up and tries to pry him off of Stiles.

Suddenly, there’s a whole lot of noises like yelling and smacking.

A staff member comes over and begins to handle the situation. You get a good look at Stiles and he already has a good bruise forming over his eye and there was a good amount of blood on him…

You put a hand up to show who was talking and quickly alerted the nearest staff member who you believed was your math teacher, “Uh i’m gonna drive him home, he’s pretty hurt.”

You actually didn’t know if they said that was okay or if they even acknowledged that you said that. But either way you swung one of his arms over your shoulder and you both walked to his jeep.

He gave you the keys and you started the car, he laid his head down on the dashboard and groaned.

“Stiles… you really didn’t have to do that.” You mumbled, you felt so bad he got beat up because of you.

He let out a small noise, almost a groan, but not quite. Almost like he lacked the energy to give an actual groan.

Stiles turned his head, looking at you with half lidded eyes, one swollen.

“Well, I did it anyway. I’m not just gonna let someone talk to you like that, especially someone like him.”

You tried to keep your focus on the road but couldn’t help but glance over at him as he spoke.

It killed you seeing him bruised and bloodied.

“I know… but it’s my problem. You shouldn’t have involved yourself, because now you’re hurt. And it’s my fault.” Your voice quivered slightly at the end.

Stiles lifted his head up, “It’s not your fault,” his attention shifted over to the road.

You didn’t want to have a back and forth argument on whose fault it was, not like you both were argumentative; honestly it was rare you guys had serious fights, sometimes you meaninglessly bickered but never anything that truly upset each other.

“I just– I feel like it is, and I really don’t like seeing you hurt. And I don’t want you to get in trouble because of me, so I’m sorry.” You spoke up, taking a breath.

“I’m alright, stop worrying.” He let out a small laugh, there wasn’t a lot of energy behind it but it was still a laugh– leave it to Stiles to laugh when in pain and bleeding.

The rest of the ride was pretty quiet, minus the sound of the static of the radio and the hum of the wheels of the car against the road that felt excruciatingly long.

Eventually, you pull into Stiles’ driveway, parking his car carefully.

Turning the key, the car goes quiet and you pull the door handle. You look over to see Stiles doing the same, slowly and lacking energy. You rush over to the passenger side of the car to ensure he gets out safely, reaching a hand out to him just in case. He took it, his other hand resting on his head, clearly in pain still.

The both of you walk carefully to his front door, you walk behind him–just in case. You could only assume his dad wasn’t home, his car wasn’t in the driveway and you didn’t hear anyone else in the house.

Still, you both crept up the stairs up to Stiles’ room. He immediately sat down on his bed, his aching head rested in his hands.

“Alright, I’ll be right back. I’m just gonna go grab some painkillers, bandages, a wet cloth, ice– uh, anything else?” You ask, unsure on what to get exactly.

He let out a low hum as a response, and to that you just nodded.

You walk over to the bathroom and rummage through various drawers and cabinets, just grabbing anything you think would be helpful.

You go back to his room with armfuls of supplies, just dropping it all on his desk.

Nearing his forehead with a cold cloth you speak, “this might be a little cold at first, okay?” Your tone gentle and soft, warning him before pressing it to his head, carefully wiping the now somewhat dried blood away.

Thankfully, there wasn’t that much. Just a couple scrapes that ended up bleeding a bit. But not too serious of injuries– which is good since you honestly had no idea what you were doing.

But, you look down and see his lip is split, red and raw. You instinctively graze you thumb over the large red line, holding up his chin with your other fingers.

Stiles looks up at you with his eyes, one half squinted from the early signs of a black eye.

The both of you stay like this for a moment, gaze locked.

Until, you continue wiping the red from his face; still, the eye contact unbreaking.

You eventually take the hand off his chin and walk over to his desk, grabbing the icepack– which you hoped was still cold enough, and pressed it to his swollen eye.

“Just keep holding it there,” you let go slowly as his hand reached up and grabbed onto it, holding it as steady as possible in the same position. “I’m just gonna get a cup of water so you can take a pain relief pill, okay?”

He carefully nods and you leave the room, hurrying down the stairs into the kitchen.

As you’re filling the cup with water, Stiles’ dad walks through the door.

“Oh- hey you, what're you doing here?” He checks his watch, “aren’t you supposed to be at school right now?”

You just nod, shutting off the faucet.

“Well– yeah, but we had a pretty good reason to leave.” You reply, you weren’t sure if you wanted to be the one to tell him what happened but you felt bad not telling him.

He raised a brow, “and that is?”

It felt wrong withholding the truth from a member of the law enforcement, besides if I was a parent I would want to know sooner than later my child started a fight and is now pretty injured…

“Uh, Stiles got into a fight…” your tone meek.

His expression immediately concerned and a little frustrated, “with who?”

“This guy at our school, he kept trying to talk to me and was just making me pretty uncomfortable, and he said some pretty rude stuff about me to Stiles, which is when Stiles ended up throwing the first punch– which, didn’t end well…” you explained, your storytelling abilities not the best when under pressure. But as long as you got the idea and point across.

His demeanor softening as you explained the whole situation, sighing as he massaged the bridge of his nose. “Is he alright now?”

You nodded, “yeah, I cleaned him up pretty good and his injuries aren’t too bad.”

Stiles’ father immediately gave an appreciative grin, “good, good.”

You raise the cup off water in your hand, signifying you should go give it to him.

He nods, understanding your implication. But, as your beginning toward the stairs, he stops you. “Can I just say– thanks for being there for him. I appreciate you, he appreciates you, a lot.” his tone genuine, still smiling.

You give a just as grateful smile, raw and natural. Hearing those words mean so, so much.

Stiles means a lot to you, you’re more than happy to hear the man he loves and cares about the most in his life to say his son appreciates you. You suddenly feel a little lighter, like suddenly every tense muscle had just relaxed. You felt fluttery.

“Of course, thank you.” You reply, finally.

The both of you give a quick nod and you go back to the initial task at hand. You walk back up the stairs with urgency and purpose, but careful not to spill a drop.

You make your way into Stiles’ room, he’s now laying on his back; icepack still rested over his eye.

“Hey, sorry for taking a bit, your dad just got home.” You shut the door gently behind you, “I told him what happened, he’s not mad or anything.”

He sat up slowly, taking the icepack off his face and setting it down carelessly on his bed.

“Im guessing your head still hurts?” You ask, grabbing the pain relief medicine.

Stiles nods, “yeah.” His voice was a little raspier than usual.

After grabbing a small pill from the bottle, you hand him the cup of water and the painkiller; sitting down next to him on his bed.

He swallows it quickly and you take the cup and reach over to set it on his bedside table.

You can’t help but just stare at him, looking at the small details up close, the scrapes and spots you can tell will turn into a bruise– or the ones that are already. You felt completely at fault. You should've just told that guy to leave you alone to begin with, not even allow Stiles to know it was happening.

Especially hearing his dad say how he appreciates you, it pained to see him– well, in pain.

You brought a hand up to the back of his head, slowly massaging his scalp– he subtly leaned into your touch. “I’m sorry.”

“Stop saying that. It’s alright, I was the one who started it, I should’ve expected this.” He let out a small breathy laugh, barely a laugh. But he still had a lopsided grin. “I should be the one apologizing, you don’t have to be taking care of me like this.”

I gave him my own lopsided smile in return, “It’s the least I could do. I wasn’t just gonna let you drive home and do it yourself, I’m not even sure you could.”

“How come your always there, always there when I need something– or, someone.” He says, voice low. Almost like not asking you, but rather, the universe. Asking how he’s so lucky.

You turn to him fully, “because I care about you.” a smile spreading across your face, not even trying to fight it at this point.

Your eyes lock, you stare soulfully into his hazel eyes; gaze softened. The warmth between the two of you sweet and comforting, like that alone could heal his injuries. Your guys’ stare unwavering as he put an arm your shoulder, squeezing gently.

Any space between you two is broken as you move closer and rest your head against him, “Stiles,” you break the silence; you practically whisper his name your tone is so soft.

He turns his head slightly, “Yeah?” his tone matching yours, gentle and quiet.

“Thanks for fighting for me.” The words came out hushed and real, like they were only meant for him to hear.

You look up, eyes meeting again, your instantly met with his lopsided smile. He doesn't say anything at first.

“I tried my best.” He finally spoke, manner the same as yours, soft. But his is more playful; you both share a small laugh.

You and your friend went back and forth for a few more seconds, swatting each others legs and pinching each other’s arms before you settled down to pay attention. However, you couldn’t keep your mind from wandering as Professor Beery droned on. His voice was loud, uproariously so,  yet melodic enough that it took on a buzzing quality in your ears, falling into background noise with the rest of the classroom.

The vibrancy of the plants, robes, and sunlight all seemed to melt away as you tied yourself to a drifting thought and let it pull you down the rushing river of your mind. In the chaos of the white tipped waves, carrying anything from your daily musings to your deepest secrets, you wished you could claim that you were aimlessly dreaming as your friend had suggested. That this thought that you were clinging to with each ounce of strength wasn’t on the same path that you had taken so many times before. 

You followed as far as you could, grasping at low hanging branches that might contain the answers but they always snapped, being pulled so deep beneath the raging waters that you never hoped to see them again. In no time at all, you wound up where you always did; in front of a towering brick wall, a dam that you had constructed to keep yourself safe, but was now a barricade you couldn’t force yourself through. 

Unable to find the answers you needed, the thought you’d immersed yourself in began to drag you under, sounding out louder and louder in your head until it was all you could think of. 

What was wrong with Remus Lupin? 

--

You were made aware that class was at it’s end when a culmination of your peer’s voices, the sound of shuffled feet and plans for lunch poking at your bubble until it popped. You were on your way out with your friend, eyes searching the crowd for a familiar mop of sandy curls. You had made up your mind that he could try to avoid you, but you could try just as hard to make him talk to you. 

Throwing a farewell over your shoulder to your friend, you quickly made your way out of the greenhouse. Remus had just barely left himself, dust still floating in the doorway after being brushed up by the hem of his robes. With some quick maneuvering around your classmates, you finally were within arm’s reach. You guessed that if he’d seen you following, he would have  run off before you could catch up. 

Snagging Remus’ sleeve before he could get further, you tugged back on his arm until he stalled in the hallway. He was slow to face you but when he did his expression was screwed up tightly, and his eyes shifted around. 

There were lilac bruises under his eyes, as if he was sleeping enough to get by but not near enough to look refreshed. A thin scratch burned bright against his skin, following the length of his jaw and it’s twin bridging over his nose. 

You weren’t startled by the appearance, it wasn’t odd to see Remus with an assortment of scrapes and bruises, his transformations never going easy on him. However, the grim set of his jaw and his forlorn eyes tugged at something deep in your gut and you were becoming endlessly worried about your friend.

“Something you want?” Remus prompted and you couldn’t help but frown at how ragged his voice sounded. 

“Maybe for a chance to talk without you running away?” You bit out sharply. He had the decency to look remorseful.

“We’re talking right now,” he shrugged, toeing at the ground while the halls cleared out. The only company you had now were students rushing past so that they weren’t late to class. You had larger worries than making it to potions on time. 

 “It’s been two weeks since we’ve spent any time together Rem. I can’t even get a hold of James or Sirius long enough to ask them if you’re okay.” You tried again, voice smoothed of all its jagged edges. You couldn’t help but grip his sleeve a bit tighter, he looked like a caged animal and you feared he would run if you let go. 

With your free hand you reached out, palm laid gently against his cheek as you tried to catch his eye.  “You haven’t been yourself and I’m worried,”

“I’ve been just fine, thanks,” He muttered, jerking away from your touch. “Never asked you to worry about me anyways,” 

You felt as if the breath had been punched from your lungs.

Remus had his shoulders up by his ears, everything about him screaming uncomfortable. Had this closing off been more gradual than you believed? Were there things you hadn’t noticed before now that would have stopped him from pulling away? 

“We’re friends, you never had to ask me to worry. I just want to help,” You urged, voice growing thick with emotion. “I miss you,” 

Remus’ shoulders drooped a bit at your confession but he still refused to meet your eyes. It felt like a stone wall had been dropped between you two and you couldn’t find the entrance. Your heart was constricting painfully, the desire to help him and the knowledge that he wasn’t letting you clashing within your chest.

The silence of the corridor and Remus combined chilled you to the bone and so you reached out and wrapped your arms around his waist, hoping that he would stop acting like everything was fine.

Instead, you were met with strong hands gripping your shoulders and bringing you back to arm’s length away. 

“What did I do wrong?” You blurted out, desperately trying to get answers. “What terrible thing did I do that made it so you can’t even look at me? Let alone speak to me,” 

 Remus was one of your closest friends, but seemingly out of nowhere he had stopped showing up for tutoring sessions and had stopped coming to your dorm on Thursdays after dinner to simply talk and let time pass comfortably. You told him everything and he told you everything. 

He’d told you about when he’d been attacked by a werewolf as a child and you’d told him about your insecurities and fears. You’d promised him then that you would never see him as a monster and he’d promised he’d never abandon you. There was nothing left unsaid between you. If there was ever a problem, you were confident that neither of you would be foolish enough to let it fester. 

There had been no argument that could explain this sudden upheaval to your regularly stable friendship. All signs pointed to you having done something wrong and it left you nauseous and sorry for something you knew nothing about. Frustrated tears burned at the edge of your eyelids but you refused to let them fall. 

“Do you even remember what happened two weeks ago?” The urgency of Remus’ voice shocked you back into the present, and this time when you looked up, his eyes were following your own. He looked pained. 

“Uhhh...Want to be more specific?” 

With a humorless chuckle, Remus brought his hands up to tug at his hair. He looked halfway to laughter and halfway to tears. “Merlin, Y/N, how hard did you hit your head?” 

“It was just a bump-” 

“Oh so now you remember that little tidbit of information,” 

“Why are you being such a jerk?” You asked with eyes narrowed. “I’m sorry I got in the way last time-” 

With a groan, Remus grabbed your hand and tugged you from the middle of the corridor you two had been stationed for nearly half an hour, bickering. His only explanation being, “Let’s finish this elsewhere,” 

Three minutes later, Remus was tugging you into the gryffindor common room before tugging you one final stretch to his dorm. Shutting the door resolutely, Remus spun on his heel, misery marring his face as he looked you up and down. 

“What world are you living in Y/N, where you could ever get in the way of a fucking mindless werewolf?” 

For a few minutes you stared, as the pieces finally put themselves together in your mind. And then, you were pushing at Remus’ chest with anger and incredulity. 

“You are absolutely unbelievable! Are you tell me that you have been avoiding me, making me feel like shit, because of an accident? A simple fucking mistake? You are so blinded by your self hatred that you didn’t realize that I haven’t even been thinking about what happened during the last full moon,” 

Remus had caught your writsts by now, despite the continuation of your verbal assault. His eyes were harsh and his grip unforgiving but you couldn’t believe he’d treated you like you were invisible because of an injury he hadn’t even been responsible for, or at least aware of at the time. 

“I hurt you!” Remus said as if you two hadn’t had this conversation about the other boys hundreds of times before. Every time he harmed any of the people he cared about while he was a werewolf, he dissolved into a vicious cycle of self loathing but he had never abandoned those people because of it. Eventually he saw that he wasn’t in control all the time even if the wolfsbane helped. 

“I got a bruise on my back for a couple days and a grazed forehead that Madam Pomfrey took care of in five minutes, how in the world does that justify you breaking my heart for weeks? You know me Remus! You know how I feel when people just vanish like that... and you promised you wouldn’t be one of them.” 

The fight was quickly leaving you, even when you ripped your hands away from Remus. He was left standing by the door as you leaned against his bed, slumping down to the floor so you could bury your head in your knees. 

“I hadn’t even thought of what had happened, because I didn’t hold it against you for a second. But I’ve been driving myself crazy because I thought I’d done something terrible to you and you hated me for it.” You choked out. 

You heard a heavy sigh and then warmth all along your left side. Remus was now seated beside you, shoulder to shoulder and hip to hip. 

“I’d rather break your heart than hurt you,” He muttered and you let out a strangled groan. 

“You do know how stupid that sounds, right? Getting thrown into a tree hurt way less than you ignoring me,” 

Remus tensed up and you let out a steadying breath before turning to face him. It looked like the fury had left him too but now he was left looking like a kicked puppy and you were certain you looked the same. 

You poked and prodded at him until his legs were out in front of him and you could comfortably situate yourself in his lap. Taking his cheeks in your hands you sent him a glare that held no heat. 

“Promise me that this is the last time that we’ll have this conversation.” 

“I can’t,” Remus whined, trying to tilt his head back to avoid your stare but you held him in place. Eventually he gave up and set his hands on your hips to steady himself even as he pouted. “Im not going to keep risking you,” 

“I signed up for it, just like the other boys, and you wouldn’t ever do this to them,” 

“You’re not them,” It was whispered on an exhale, barely there, but you heard it all the same. You were waiting for the offense to fill you up and reignite the fire of your anger but his voice had been cracked, nervous, different. 

“Do you know the lengths that I’d go for you,” You asked instead of picking a fight, thumbs brushing feather light against his cheekbones. “That I’d do anything to make sure you’re okay?”

“I do, and that’s why I need you to hate me,” 

Looking at him now, with his doe eyes framed by long lashes and a frown that had melted into a pout, you were liable to forget that he was the biggest idiot you had ever met. 

“What world are you living in Remus, where you could ever be hated by me?” You mocked his previous words, yet it still rang true. No matter what, your heart would be his and there couldn’t be a single thing that could sour or change that. 

“A world where you’re safe,” He whispered as he tangled his fingers in the hair at the nape of your neck, the air shifting and making the bubble you two were in seem much more private. Like raising your voice above that low whisper would pop it and break this spell. 

“With or without you Remus, none of us are safe right now, not with news of death eaters and the Dark Lord popping up in the Daily Prophet every other day. Why spend our last year of school miserable and missing one another? Why miss out on memories and things to fight for once we’re out of here? I trust you and you’re the last thing I’d ever be frightened of,” 

At some point, Remus had tilted your head forward, your noses brushing as you spoke. You could feel your heart fighting it’s way through your chest and you hoped he couldn’t hear it. 

“Can we please stop fighting over this? I meant it when I said I missed you,” 

“I know,” Remus breathed out. “I’m sorry, I just can’t help but think one day I’ll do something that can’t be fixed with spell or tonic. It seemed better to hurt you emotionally and push you away than wait for something permanent to take you away from me. I’d rather see you happy far away from me than hurting beside me and because of me,” 

Tired of trying to explain how the last place you wanted to be was far away from him, you guided Remus the last inch between you and placed your lips against his. You’d been worrying at yours for weeks and you were certain they were chapped but the moment Remus clued into the pressure he pulled you in tighter against him, sitting up a bit further so that he could deepen the kiss. 

There weren’t fireworks or explosions, just a steady and familiar warmth filling you from head to toe. Before the past few weeks you and Remus had been flirting playfully and pushing boundaries just to see who would break first and finally cross the line between friends and more and now you were finally taking the plunge. 

The kiss was steady and slow, an even give and take that didn’t demand more. An exchange of words said and unsaid.

You were the first to pull away and your chest filled with giddy bubbles when you saw Remus tilt forward in the hopes to capture your lips again. 

“You never said we were done with this silly fight,” You pointed out and Remus groaned, squeezing your hips in fond exasperation. 

“It might be something we talk about later, but for now, I promise that I wont pull a stunt like this again,” 

The traits of Gryffindor include (just gonna list a few tbh):

Bravery/courage

Curious

Playful

Passionate

Practical

Whilst traits of Slytherin include:

Perfectionist

Cunning 

Ambitious (And makes life long friends because of these)

Resourceful

Adaptable

I think Nobunaga is definitely both. In story events where he isn’t the main, we always get to see his playful side where he’s telling the others to ‘take ya gal back to your manor and get some ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)’ or, in Hideyoshi’s route, stealing konpeito from the kitchen -_-. He’s definitely curious as he wants to travel (after he completes his ambition) and also admits that he wants to learn the vast knowledge there is in the world. I’d say he’s pretty passionate about his ambition and practical in how he uses his vassals as well (since he’s really big on efficacy). 

On the other hand, in regards to his ambition, he is definitely very resourceful and guides his vassals to their utmost potential (esp Hideyoshi, I think :D). Nobunaga’s also very adaptable. I think this is definitely shown best when he makes temporary alliances with Kenshin and Shingen even though they hate him but it’s the best course of action on his road to unification. 

Thus, Nobunaga, could definitely be in Slytherin or Gryffindor, I think it just depends on what time you catch him at: when he’s at a War Council or when he’s just bored.

So why did I put him in Gryffindor?

If you look at my head canons, the Nobunaga I portrayed was definitely more to the Gryffindor side (e.g. stealing from the kitchen, inventing new spells because he’s curious and sneaking out with Masamune at night). 

I didn’t want to put him in Slytherin because then he’d be in the same house as Kenshin. And, god, poor Slytherin would always be losing house points with the trouble they stir ;-; 

Also, since I put Hideyoshi in a different house, I ended up writing more head canons of Nobunaga just being a little devil and trolling everyone, uh, I mean, playful and curious because his HideMama ain’t around to rein him in ;)

Therefore, Nobunaga in Gryffindor was to show his childish side (since he would be younger than 18 anyways) even though the ambitious, resourceful side of him definitely points to Slytherin.