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#based on her pet rats

beatcroc · 2 months

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Would love to hear your thoughts on/interpretation of Brick :)

my actual most pressing thought about brick is im distraught more people don't realize he [and gustavo] are every bit as much a kirby reference as they are a mario reference

look at him!!! look!!! his name is RICK.

you dont know him??? youve forgotten him??? my beloved son??? rick the hamster?? rick was quite literally what got me into the kirby series so i have very strong convictions about him.

aside from that i mean. well. he is a rat. i'm not sure how much there is to "interpret" here fgjjgffgh. i do at least have a minor hc that the Giant Fuckin Rats like that only come from the tower. tower rats just built different. built six feet tall. everywhere else just got regular little rats like in don't make a sound & tower rats are generally not well-known outside of areas immediately around the tower+places it affects/connects to.

gus probably has him registered as a service/therapy animal so he can take him places but brick is definitely not actually Trained for it. i don't think he really Needs training though since he's, like, intelligent enough to smoke and play poker apparently; and he's also generally pretty tolerant, relaxed, and well-behaved otherwise. he does still perform the occasional service duty in the form of "laying down on top of peppino when he is having an Episode" this is usually at gustavo's behest and fake pep will do it too

#anxious old men get squashed under fatass therapy beasts. he hates it but it does help #tbt when my little sister had her rats registered as therapy animals so she could keep them on college campus #bc they didnt allow pets otherwise. based bahaviour #this one is going in the tag solely for rick awareness. look at him #pizza tower #gustavo and brick #did u kno when the kdl2 animal trio got revealed for star allies i actually for real cried #they hadnt been in the series for TWENTY YEARS and theyre finally back...

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taibhsearachd · 1 year

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“Let’s go, lesbians!” has been the way we rally our dogs to bed since before Trinket, our dear son boy, was included in that.

…we now have a single female dog, Olive, and our two apparently he/him lesbians, Trinket and Gilgamesh, bc we continue to use the same rallying cry and the boys fucking love it.

Animals don’t care about gender and this is a powerful thing you can use to your advantage.

#pets #dogs #trinket #gilgamesh #Olivia Natalia #speaking of animal genders #we adopted two male rats and referred to one of them as a girl all her life #did it matter? not at all #because they don’t fucking care #if you want to gender your animals based on aesthetic(tm) or vibes youre so valid #as long as you’re using appropriate caution to make sure they don’t reproduce accidentally #anyway our male dogs are he/him lesbians now #simply because I refuse to stop saying ‘let’s go lesbians’#and I think that’s funny

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tossawary · 6 months

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Every time I see or otherwise imagine a Daemon AU (a story borrowing the concept of "physical soul animals" from the "His Dark Materials" book series), I get distracted thinking about aaaaall the logistical issues and cultural changes that would happen if the world was different in this way. Especially if it's a story that's set in the modern day!

Mostly, I'm distracted by cultural changes that are, uh, let's go with "silly". Like, I think people would put in cat doors and ramps for their daemons. I think people would put their turtle daemons on hot wheel cars and let their rat daemons drive miniature cars. I think some miserable people would be unreasonably outraged by "assistive devices" for daemons and call it unnatural. I think people would post online like, "I just watched my grandma's elderly dog daemon spend ten minutes trying to climb onto the couch." I think that there would be Tumblr polls asking: "Are daemons allowed on the furniture in your house?" And some people would be like, "Absolutely not, that's disgusting," and other people would be like, "Yes?! Of course?!?!?!"

I think some people would put their daemons in outfits. I think some people would wear MATCHING outfits with their daemons. I think there would be a huge market for daemon accessories like collars and scarves. I think you could find someone who would argue to their dying breath that putting a collar on your daemon is a form of abusing yourself. I think there would be daemons who would straight up hate wearing anything, especially the daemons of young children, and shed collars immediately. I think some people would get their daemon's ears pierced.

I think people would take photos of their daemons getting stuck in stupid places. I think people would take photos of their daemons making silly expressions. I think these photos would be used as memes. I think this would be included in the "don't take photos of strangers and post them online???" arguments. I think some people would try to get animals that are the same as their daemon forms so that their daemon could have a "friend". I think the exotic pet trade in this world would be horrible, especially in relation to modelling and acting industries, and that some people and their daemons would work as "substitute daemon actors".

I think that people would judge other people based on their daemons, sure. I also think that daemons are incorporated into things like astrology and matchmaking in ways that our world can't imagine. "Oh, I only date guys with dog daemons. Guys with cat daemons are too feminine," would be a constant sexist / homophobic sitcom joke and also a real thing people would say. There would be sex books written taking daemons into account and I'm not going to get into it more than that except to say...

The furry "discourse" that must exist in a Modern Daemon AU is operating on a level that we cannot possibly fathom.

Most of this stuff is not relevant for most Daemon AUs, but I feel like when doing any kind of cultural worldbuilding, we must face the fact that many people love and hate nothing more than to sincerely and insincerely get into extensive Twitter arguments over pointless bullshit. And also, on a lighter note, that "Draw yourself and your daemon!" would be a classic Day 1 of school activity for children. Confession blogs would have people saying, "My mom and aunt and grandma all have parrot daemons, so until I was four, I genuinely thought all women had bird daemons. When I met a woman with an iguana daemon in a grocery store, I asked her what kind of bird it was supposed to be. My mom has laughingly brought it up every few weeks for the past twenty years."

#tossawary hdm #sit with your soul #long post #fic ideas

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emeritusemeritus · 3 months

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You think you know someone. [Fred Weasley x Reader]

Title: You think you know someone.

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Reader

Timeline: OOTP- canon and timelines altered for purposes of the story. Some bits have been exaggerated for artistic purposes. Based more on the films than the books. Reader joins DA but what if instead of Cho ratting them out, it’s you?

Summary: You had everything during your time at Hogwarts- good friends, Fred Weasley as your boyfriend and a promising future, until Dolores Umbridge turns up.

Warnings: This one turned out a little dark. Mentions of injury, torture, bullying, wounds, blood. Umbridge is a bitch. Snape is a bully. Use of unforgivable curses. Punishment. Kissing, pranks, swearing. Dumbledore’s Army and resistant forces. Brief mentions of Voldemort and probable war. Pet names: baby, sweetheart, princess. Not beta read. Happy ending I promise.

Word count: 9.3k (I feel like I’ve written a novel here)

This work is gifted to @kellyxo1 thanks to the wonderful request that I couldn’t turn down! I’m sorry it’s taken me a while to get this out but it’s been a complete labour of love and I hope you like it!💕

You knew Dolores Umbridge was trouble the moment you spotted her in the Great Hall, her gaudy pink outfit and matching pink cheeks made her stick out like a sore thumb amongst the classic, muted colour pallet you knew to be Hogwarts. Her smile unnerved you, the cold expression in her eyes never once matching the infallible twisted, sadistic smile that so often painted her face. Everything about her rang alarm bells in your mind.

Fred and George had been sitting either side of you at the banquet table in the Great Hall as she took centre stage and delivered her speech about being very good friends, as ominous and foreboding as it seemed.

"That's likely," the twins had mumbled, resting their heads on their hands, elbows on the table as a small act of rebellion against the airs and graces she clearly put on. You'd subconsciously scooted closer to Fred when she stood, reaching for his spare hand under the table that he'd offered you, sensing a little of your discomfort. Fred was always acutely aware of your emotions, able to read you like a book, you supposed it was a natural consequence of being together for so long.

You'd met on the first day of Hogwarts when you'd stepped into the train compartment he shared with George, locked eyes and the rest was history. You'd been dating since your second year, both of you unable to deny the childlike crushes and stolen glances of your attraction and as you grew up, you grew together. Now you were in your last year, with big plans ahead of Fred and George's business which you'd planned to help them with initially and bigger promises of moving in together in the flat above the shop. The natural progression of a happy relationship and an exciting prospect that kept you motivated to finish school on a high.

The atmosphere at Hogwarts was different this year: understandably tense and foreboding, not just because of Cedric's death and the rumoured return of Voldemort but of the disquiet around Harry's claims and the propagandistic reporting from the Daily Prophet refuting Harry's claims. It seemed everyone was divided into wether they believed Harry or if they believed what they were reading in the media. It was evident that the ministry had worked hard to deny and deflect Harry'a claims, disparaging and slandering him publicly. Of course the arrival of a certain Pink adorned dementor didn't help things, especially when she, as new defense against the dark arts teacher, did away with the old curriculum and removed any defensive, practical teaching in favour of simple theory- which would be of no use in real life situations, of which you were all undoubtedly facing. Then the educational decrees began where she was appointed Hogwarts' high inquisitor and sought to change anything she was as unsatisfactory, backed by the ministry, which seemed to propel the whole school further and further away from what it should be teaching and how it should be preparing it's students for what was inevitably happening.

"She can't do this! It's ridiculous, George is fuming, never mind Fred," you overheard Ginny say as you were about to take a seat for dinner but quickly stopped as you gave her a questioning look, not knowing what she meant, her eyes focusing in on your frozen form.

"What?"

"You haven't seen the new decree?" She asks curiously, placing down her fork onto the plate. You shook your head briefly before walking quickly out of the hall, dinner be damned to examine the wall of decrees, trying to fix your eyes onto the new plaque on the wall.

Educational Decree No. 30: All Weasley products will be banned immediately.

You rushed upstairs to the common room, split in two minds about wether they would be there or on the quidditch pitch, trying to expel their frustrations... until you remembered that broom flying had been outlawed unless part of a lesson or during Quidditch games, as few and far between as they were coming due to the constant cancelling.

When you found them in their dorm, George was pacing the room, kicking the wooden frame of his bed after every circuit whilst Fred sat perched on his own bed, face downcast and eyes filled with anger.

You knew it wouldn't stop them, nothing ever did, but the business they forged from nothing had suffered for a while as students were afraid of the repercussions of being searched and found with their products.

"Can't sell my products, can't fly a broom, can't even kiss my own girlfriend unless I find a way to snog her from six inches away!" Fred had been furious and rightly so but there seemed to be no hope in sight.

It seemed no one was unaffected by the drastic measures Umbridge was taking and you were all facing the consequences of the increasing restrictions, in multiple ways. You'd been given detention for the stupidest things, including casting a spell to undo the jinx Malfoy had placed on Neville one afternoon, another leg lock jinx that you'd fixed for him, received another for the muggle book in your possessions and another for deigning to be within six inches of George. The punishment was cruel and twisted but you'd hidden it from Fred, knowing how protective he was and how he'd act out to retaliate against her which would only land him in worse trouble. She seemed to focus on you in particular, for whatever reason you weren't sure but she hardly hid her distaste for you publicly. Fred said it was because of your connection to him and George but you weren't sure, it seemed more personal than that.

It had been Hermione's brilliant idea to forge a sort of rebellion in order to actually learn the practical side of defence and you'd been eager to sign up after attending the first meeting at the Hog's Head in Hogsmeade, knowing that you had to arm yourself in whatever way you could, the feeling of unease at the current climate always looming overhead. You'd been pleasantly surprised by the turn out, seeing many familiar faces as you'd walked hand in hand with Fred into the small, freezing cold room as you waited for Harry, Ron and Hermione. Cho, Luna, Neville, Ginny, Michael and so many others from Gryffindor, Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff had turned out to fight for the cause and as you looked around the room of friends and familiars, it was evident that this could work.

You'd signed the parchment Hermione had brought with no hesitation, lining up between Fred and Ginny, clearly marking your name under his in the pencil provided. As you walked back to the castle in a group, Fred's arm around you and his hat in your head to keep the cold away from your ears, you felt determined and inspired to make this work. You'd just need to find somewhere to practice away from the prying eyes of the inquisitor.

Then came Educational Decree No.68: All student organisations are henceforth be disbanded. Any student in noncompliance will be expelled.

This time, you weren't angered or afraid of the newly instated restriction but instead felt empowered to rebel. Neville, in a feat of brilliance, had discovered the room of requirement one Saturday afternoon as he made his way down the seventh floor corridor. It was perfect, exactly what was needed, and you'd all wasted no time in putting the room to good use.

Within just two weeks, you'd mastered disarming spells, stunning spells, hexes, jinxes and defensive charms that you'd never thought you could do. Ginny had proven herself to be incredibly skilled and you'd stood watching in amazement as two magpies flying around the room, both coming from your boyfriend and his twin. The twins had taken to placing bets, mostly against Ron, all of you in good spirits about finally being able to do magic again. You and Fred took full advantage of being shielded away from the eyes of Hogwarts and had taken to lingering in the room after the sessions so you could be close to each other, to kiss freely and be intimate again. It had seemed so long, so cruel to have to keep away from him, at least in public and as you watched him master spells so effortlessly and looking so deliciously hot as he did it, often with messy hair and rolled up sleeves, it was exactly what you needed to relieve yourself of the building frustrations.

Fun and laughter had once again returned to Hogwarts, though shielded from the regulating eyes, it was just like before. The twins had even taken to pranking again, no longer concerned by the changes, including giving Filch laced chocolates which made him erupt with giant, puss-filled boils on his face when he got too close to the scent of your secret gatherings.

Educational decree No. 82: All students will submit to questioning about suspected illicit activities.

Umbridge had began to gather students for an inquisitorial squad which would earn them credit for joining, most notably the Slytherin students that weaselled their way into Umbridge's good books. Most probably by being pure bloods. They took great pleasure in pulling up the younger students in particular for punishment or questioning and abused their powers frequently.

Then you returned to school after winter break and the news of the Azkaban breakout happened, constant storms were forecasted, Umbridge's cruel regime heightened. Everything felt so restrictive, so unnecessary, so twisted. The only place you found solace was during DA meetings when you could be yourself, free to act and perform as you wanted surrounded by your friends and boyfriend. Always alert at the imposing threat, knowing Filch was on to you all and the rest of the inquisitorial squad which only fuelled you to keep discreet.

It had been a regular day of classes until your DADA lesson where you'd been required by the toad to write an essay on the benefits of conversational reasoning as opposed to practical magic to handle disputes with half breeds and lower class species, such as centaurs. You'd almost immediately refused to write such things, particularly due to the disgusting terms used to class different species but also due to the ridiculous concept.

"I am teaching you verified way of effective communication, in which you do not have to use your wand," she defends with a sickeningly fake smirk.

"Or our brains by taking away our autonomy," you'd argued, not even under your breath.

"Are you questioning my methods of teaching miss y/l/n? By all means if you think you can do better I should like to see you try."

"Can't be hard, Professor Quirrel did a better job and he shared a head and a singular brain cell with Voldemort."

A murmur of concealed laughter burst from the students around you and for a singular moment you felt the victory of it, empowered even.

"Detention!" She's utterly outraged, her face turning a dangerous shade of fuchsia. You could feel the eyes on you, most notably your boyfriend and his twin from across the room but you didn't care. Since returning to school you'd been torn away from Fred, unable to be anywhere near each other and certainly not in a group with your friends as it would break at least three decrees. You were frustrated and had hit breaking point, anger simmering in you but why you didn't know. You'd completely had enough.

"It's a date Dolores," you said sarcastically with the sickliest smile you could muster. More snickers erupted around you and even a clap that sounded suspiciously like it came from the direction of your future brother in law.

"My office, now!" She screams, pointing with her pink tipped finger towards the door. You grabbed your stuff from the desk and walked out without a single look in anyone's direction. On your way to her office, you pulled the special coin from your pocket and checked over the date and time to check you had it right. There was a DA meeting later that evening and you'd hoped this would be over quickly so that you could still attend.

Only, that never happened. Instead you'd been tortured for hours in the cruelest of ways, repeatedly questioned over your involvement with the alleged group and had been forced to drink truth serum until the words had slipped out of your mouth. You'd had no control over it, no way of resisting any longer and with great shame, you'd told her about the room of requirement, completely unable to stop the words from coming out.

The inquisitorial squad was on you in mere moments, as soon as Umbridge had signalled them from outside the door and Malfoy's grubby hands were pulling your weak and exhausted body from the chair before you could even register the intrusion. The things you'd been through, the pain and the anguish, it was nothing compared to the fear you felt at the DA being discovered; you could only pray that you'd held out long enough so that the meeting was over.

"Where is it?!" Umbridge screamed into your face when you wouldn't disclose the exact location of the room of requirement, having already inadvertently let slip that the room was your meeting place. You gave her your darkest look, no longer feeling controlled by whatever she had obviously put in your tea. When she didn't get an answer, her hand struck you hard right across the cheek but you hardly flinched, hardly feeling the pain anymore.

"I know the way Ma'am," Filch said, his saggy face appearing around the corner creepily, his features twisting into a vulgar, perverse smile. You could hardly look at Umbridge's face as it twisted into a pleased, twisted grin as she fixed her jacket and allowed Filch to lead her. Malfoy grabbed hold of your robes tighter in his fist and you were dragged along with them until you reached the seventh floor.

You felt sick to your stomach, wanting to scream and cry, resist in anyway you could as you fought against Malfoy's hold but you were physically tired and weak. Crabbe had grabbed hold of the other side of you, your thrashing too much for Malfoy to hold down by himself and his hands were much tougher against your skin, no doubt leaving bruises in their wake. When the door to the room of requirement didn't appear, you felt hopeful that she'd realise you were lying, even if that meant horrendous consequences for you. There was no way of warning them, nothing you could do to allow them to flee, you'd have to watch as they were all caught redhanded. They'd think you ratted them out, your friends, the love of your life. You knew it was exactly what Umbridge wanted, to turn everyone against you- and she was undoubtedly going to get it.

"Bombarda Maxima," her eerily calm and squeaky voice rang out as she pointed her want at the wall. Your scream mixed in with the large bang as a giant hole was created in the wall, depris and dust flying everywhere.

When the dust cloud cleared, you were dragged off from the side viciously by Malfoy and Crabbe until you were presented in front of the Army- your friends. You didn't want to look up from your spot on the floor, still fighting against their holds on you but something made you look up. And then you met his eyes.

Fred had never looked at you that way, ever. The looks of love and adoration you'd become accustomed to over the years, the playfulness and the intimate looks, it was all gone. The look in his eyes would haunt you forever, the coldness, betrayal and the resentment and it was explicitly clear what his expression told you.

He believed that you ratted them out, believed that you could ever do that to him, to them all.

You had to look away, desperate to see any hope that someone believed you, that someone sympathised with the torment you'd endured but as your eyes travelled across to George, you stopped short. He looked furious with you, disgusted and despite everything you'd been through in the past few hours, you'd receive no sympathy or chance to explain yourself to the people you loved.

You were dragged away as Umbridge dealt with the Army, bestowing threats and punishments upon them that you couldn't hear. You no longer fought against the holds of the Slytherins but instead went willingly, feeling guilty, shame and simply dirty for your role in all of this, even if it wasn't your fault.

Members of the ministry arrived not too long after, having been alerted prior to the discovery of the DA. You couldn't look at Kingsley, much too distraught to see his look of disgust at you, no doubt planning to tell the Order what you'd done. Harry was ushered in not long after having been caught in the skirmish. His newfound hatred of you seemed to radiate off him as he stood beside you and this alone made you want to scream and cry out of frustration, tears welling in your eyes that you wouldn't allow to spill.

The final straw was when Percy walked in, without so much as a glimmer of recognition towards you and took over from Malfoy to restrain you and Harry, keeping the shoulder of your robe balled up in his hand. The minister ordered him to dispatch an owl to the Daily Prophet and he diligently nodded, trying to manoeuvre you along with him.

"Get off me Weatherby," you demanded viciously, fighting against his hold and managing to break free, only to be stopped as you all looked on in amazement as Dumbledore disappeared out of sight in a magnificent display.

You'd hoped after that, you'd be able to get Harry alone, to explain yourself to him, to tell him what had happened but he'd completely avoided you, blanked you entirely. You hardly blamed him but you needed to explain, to clear your name. Umbridge then commanded Harry to join her in the hall where the punishment was being conducted, all of the DA together.

You'd been permitted to return to your dorm after the meeting had finished but you stood outside of the hall doors, desperate to see Fred and explain yourself, hoping he could bring you at least an ounce of comfort. Your head was pounding from the pain earlier and the marks on your arms were throbbing, sore and weeping though you fought not to look at them, knowing the pain would only be worse when you saw what was tormenting you. You couldn't go to Madame pomfrey, Umbridge had made that very clear and so you suffered in complete silence until you could reach out for your friends.

You lingered outside of the door for what felt like hours, the anxiety and the nerves you felt seemingly freezing time. When the doors opened, the members of the DA began pouring out with soured looks on their faces which only heightened when they caught sight of you. It was never hard to spot Fred and George amongst a crowd, their towering height easily distinguishable amongst a sea of people.

The look on everyone's face was near identical, the disgust and the resentment evident in their eyes as they spotted you but none clearer than the twins. George looked like he detested you, his face scrunched into a look of utter distaste, eyes glaring into you as he walked past without a care. Fred looked away, ignoring your presence completely as he glided past you without muttering a single word, his face stone cold and void of expression.

"Freddie, please," you said weakly and emotionally, with tears in your eyes, turning around in the spot as he walked past you. But nothing, he didn't turn, didn't react, simply walked away without so much as a single glance.

"Harry," you implored, taking a step towards him but he too blanked you again, pushing past you and walking quickly up the steps to avoid you.

You stood alone in the cold and empty corridor, feeling more isolated and alone than you ever had and finally allowed yourself to cry. Silent tears fell down your cheeks, shoulders sagging as you cried for everything you had undoubtedly lost, for the treatment you'd received and for the pain you still felt in your head and arms. Finding a spot in a hidden corner, you finally allowed yourself to pull up the sleeve of your robe and look upon the damage that Umbridge had inflicted with her sadistic quill. It was horrendous, an onslaught of slurs and vicious words etched into your body, no doubt intentionally done to leave the scars as a permanent reminder.

You sobbed your heart out in that little nook between two cold, stone pillars as you tried desperately to heal the marks but no spell was strong enough even to numb it in your weakened state.

You eventually made your way to Gryffindor tower, stepping through the portrait and finding the common room practically deserted. You sighed and walked up the stone steps to your dorm, only to find that the door had been shut and your blanket and pillow had been thrown outside of it, a clear sign you were not welcome even within your own dorm. You were painfully exhausted and wanted nothing more than to curl up in your bed and cry into your pillow until you eventually passed out. But you didn't even deserve that.

With a heavy sigh, you collected your blanket and pillow and trudged down the steps back towards the common room, eyes blurry through a mixture of tiredness and tears. You stopped short the second you crossed the last step, seeing Fred and George step in through the portrait hole, your stomach flipping nervously as you anticipated a barrage of insults or horrible pranks, their allegiance turning from you now.

"Fred, Freddie please," you begged, dropping your makeshift bedding to walk towards him, trying to reach out for him. You paused as you saw the redness on the back of his left hand, a clearly fresh punishment, 'I must not break rules'. George intercepts immediately and barges past you, blocking you from getting to Fred as he turns his twin away from you.

"You think you know someone," George mutters as he gently nudges Fred up the stairs, sending you a vicious glare before he walks up after him, once again leaving you alone. Fred didn't even spare a single glance at you, not even to recoil away.

You curled up in a corner armchair as soon as the tears appeared, pathetically dragging the blanket over you and cried until you fell asleep in the uncomfortable chair.

The two weeks that followed were the absolute worst weeks of your life. Umbridge had stripped you of everything you loved in one fell swoop, turned everyone against you and left the place you called home feeling miserable and lonely. You deserved it, you knew that, having ratted them out. You'd antagonised her and now had to live through then consequences, as cruel and twisted as they were.

The glares from everyone you had once called friends hadn't stopped, especially from George, which hurt the most. Fred had outright ignored any effort you'd made to reach out to him, no matter how desperate you'd sounded or how hard you'd tried to make him understand. He didn't care. He believed the lie.

The first week you'd tried to take your meals with the rest of the Gryffindors but it was made abundantly clear to you that you were not permitted nor welcome to join your friends and had been cruelly banished to the end of the table, beside the first years. The second week you'd stopped attending meals at all, not able to push through the shame and embarrassment of being cast away, exiled from your group. Lessons were monotonous and any down time was utterly excruciating as you were left enclosed with the other Gryffindors, namely your ex boyfriend, though no one would make any contact with you. You'd tried to sleep in your dorm but the girls had done nearly everything to prevent you from actually sleeping, talking loudly, setting off whizzbangs inside your curtains and had even transfigured your blanket a few times to varying degrees of horrid things. At the end of the night when you were certain everyone was asleep, usually very late, you'd creep down to the common room and huddle into your uncomfortable chair to sleep, only to be woken mere hours later when the first of the easy risers woke up. Your life was hell.

"There's just something I don't understand," Hermione says as they all stand on the bridge, the golden trio, Ginny and the Twins, all wrapped up in warm clothes and sweaters as they discuss the changes put into place since Umbridge had taken over as Headmistress. Naturally, the conversation had diverted to you, something Fred was entirely displeased about. The group turn to Hermione after her words, intrigued by the change in tone. She took a deep breath, closing her eyes before opening them again, as if building the strength to say her next sentence.

"I jinxed the enrolment parchment, for Dumbledore's Army," she admits, not quite meeting the gaze of the group around her. "It was purely a preventative measure, incase we were betrayed by one of our own. The person who disclosed any secrets would be jinxed to break out in spots, to spell out 'sneak' across their forehead, so we knew who the betrayer was. Y/N didn't have that, she never even had a single spot."

"Blimey Hermione," Ron says a little breathlessly, disbelieving she'd have actually gone that far.

"I know," she says a little defensively, "I just can't work out how she got around it!"

"Maybe she wrote her name wrong? Did she know about the jinx?" Harry suggests but Hermione shook her head, at the very same time that Ginny replied.

"I was behind her, I saw her write her name. It was right."

"Maybe the jinx didn't work?" Harry suggests carefully but stops himself when he receives a forceful glare from Hermione at the very notion of her failure.

"What does it matter? She dobbed us in wether or not she's covered in spots!" Ron says rather harshly, leaning against the wooden bannister.

Fred can't listen anymore, completely overwhelmed by the conversation and the thought of you betraying them. He turns and walks off back towards the castle without so much as a word to the others, not even his twin, and ignores their calls of his name as they watch him fade into the distance.

Spotting you sitting alone in the corner of the room when he returns to the common room, he frowns to himself. He'd known you since the moment you stepped on the Hogwarts express and had loved you for nearly just as long. It was wrong to see you sat alone, so sad and without the usual spark you naturally emitted. Everyone had always been drawn to you, your humour and wit, your dazzling smile, the fact you made everyone aroun you feel comfortable and valued. Too many boys had been drawn to you for his liking but you'd never even given them the time of day, never once wavering in your loyalty to him or ever made him doubt that it was him you wanted. You'd spent years supporting him, helping him and George develop their products, cheering for him loudly at every Quidditch game and had wormed your way into the hearts of every single one of his family members. Secretly, it crushed him to see you so lonely and tired, even if he still felt the sting of your betrayal.

It didn't add up, though he wouldn't disclose this to any of the more angered members of the group, why you would do such a thing. You'd been excited to start the DA, had joined in enthusiastically, kept the secret for so long and most of all you completely despised Umbridge. He couldn't deny that he still loved you, even though he was conflicted with his feelings now, he still held out hope that this would all go away, that there was a reasonable explanation but his anger wouldn't allow him to listen. It killed him to push you away, wanting nothing more than for things to return to normal but he felt a deep sense of betrayal that he couldn't shift.

"Fred?" He heard from behind him, pulling him out of his musings making him realise that he'd been staring at you all this time as he turned towards the person addressing him. Her name was Emery Atkinson, a Gryffindor from the year below that he'd never really acknowledged or spent much time with.

"Yeah?" He replies politely though he couldn't escape the edge of irritation after being pulled away from his thoughts. He watches as the girl giggles as soon as he acknowledges her and tucks a strand of blonde hair behind her ear.

"Oh good I got the right twin!" She giggles, ignorant to the blank look she received from Fred. "I was wondering if you had some canary creams I could buy? My brother loves them and it's his birthday soon. Your inventions are so clever, I don't know how you and George find the time between your studies and Quidditch, it must be exhausting. You're so good as Quidditch, I always cheer you on. Plus your girlfriend, but I heard that you weren't together anymore right?"

Truthfully, Fred had only registered the first half of her speech, tuning out after Canary Creams but his attention had been drawn back at the mention of you. He can't help but feel that little stab of sadness at the mention of you, especially someone referring to you as his girlfriend, or Ex rather. In the back of his mind he wonders if you heard that, from your short distance away, he hoped not.

"I still can't believe it, why would she do that? If I was with you I wouldn't even dream of ruining it." She sounds faux-scandalised and quite frankly, rather bitchy as he reaches out to touch the sleeve of his sweater. Fred doesn't humour her and instead takes half a step back subtly, reaching to scratch the back of his head as a discreet way of getting her off.

"Er, yeah I think we have some creams leftover, I'll send George over with some later, alright?"

"Not you?" She says with a sad little face, trying out her best puppy dog eyes that have absolutely no affect on him.

"George deals with the confectionery," he says a little too quickly; which is a complete lie. "Sorry, I've got somewhere to be but I'll let him know you're interested in buying."

He breaks away, giving her a forced but polite smile and a brief, parting wave but it's awkward and he's inwardly cringing as soon as he puts his hand down. Turning to where you had been sat in the chair, he notices you've disappeared and he is instantly overcome with a wave of guilt. You'd heard it all.

—

The next few days passed in blur for Fred, his mind wandering between what he was doing and thoughts of you, like he couldn't concentrate for more than a minute. He felt so conflicted within himself, made worse by the time spent apart from you, the longing beginning to set in. He'd never really been apart from you for very long, at most only a few weeks during the summer holidays and even then you'd have sent numerous letters by now, keeping in contact as much as you could until you were back beside each other. Now it was just torture, having you so close but so far away and the knowledge that he was the one that had pushed you away only furthered his guilt and internal conflict.

Fred was in a terrible mood, battling his thoughts, surviving on very little sleep and now the threat of her sadistic punishment was the icing on the cake of a really crap day when he and George had been forced to Umbridge's office. Harry had been caught trying to use the floo, to alert the order or escape and had been caught red handed by Umbridge. Each member of the DA had been frogmarched into the office, shoved and restrained by members of the inquisitorial squad and each member looked as uneasy as the next. His stomach turned when he saw Ginny held down by Goyle and he fought to get out of Graham Montegue's hold but it was useless when Umbridge mindlessly cast a spell to subdue him.

Harry was sat in the chair in the centre of the room, the first to be questioned with Umbridge hovering dangerously close to him, her temper boiling over as she speaks frantically in his face.

"You were going to Dumbledore weren't you?" She says, leaning down threateningly in front of Harry.

"No," Harry responds.

"Liar!" She screams back and in a move that shocks each member of the DA, she pulls back her hand and slaps Harry hard around the face, the harsh sound echoing through the otherwise silent room.

She pauses for a moment, simply glaring at Harry until her face twists into a sick, twisted grin as she straightens up and composes herself, each movement carefully thought out as she turns her back to him.

"Very well, you give me no choice Potter," she says with an even cadence, her tone dangerously low. "As this is an issue of Ministry security, you leave me with... no alternative, unless Professor Snape arrives within moments."

Fred feels like he can hardly breathe, the tension and unease in the air so thick that the room feels like it's getting smaller by the second. The unpredictability of the woman before them was alarming, the dangerous undertone of her voice despite her light and breezy tone was almost scarier than his worst nightmare.

"The cruciatus curse ought to loosen your tongue," she says, adjusting her pink jacket.

"That's illegal," Hermione states in outrage but Umbridge hardly flinches. Instead, she reaches out for the photo frame of the minister on her desk and pauses briefly to look at it before turning it over and lying it down flat on the desk, so that Fudge could not see her next move. She straightens herself and extends her wand, only to stop when Snape appears by the door, his eyes fixed to her outstretched wand that was pointed directly at Harry.

"You sent for me Headmistress?"

"Snape, yes," she says, taking a step back and everyone in the room exhales, relaxing only slightly. "The time has come for answers, wether he wants to give them to me or not," she says, her eyes flicking to Harry only briefly.

"Might I suggest against the cruciatus curse this time headmistress," he says evenly and carefully, "the consequences of such an audience might be... disagreeable. In fact I would hesitate in conducting any of the prior disciplinary methods in this instance.""

This time? She'd used the cruciatus curse before? And on a student? Prior disciplinary methods? Fred thinks, did he mean the quill?

"Very well," she says after a moment of pondering, her arm falling to her side as she relents, eyes wandering over the all too familiar Quill that sits proudly on her desk before her gaze shifts back to Snape. "Have you brought the veritaserum?"

"I'm afraid you've used up all my stores, the last of it interrogating Miss y/l/n."

Snape carries on speaking but Fred doesn't hear a single word, blood rushing to his ears as his heart pounds. He feels like he's received a stray bludger straight to the chest, his stomach dropping with fresh shame, sadness and overwhelming guilt.

Suddenly it all made sense. She'd tortured you into giving out the information- the cruciatus curse, veritaserum, what else had she done to you?

He couldn't help but let out a dry sob at the information, sensing everyone's eyes on him at the news. He struggled against the holds with everything in him, needing to fix what he'd broken.

He'd believed them, so quickly, believed that you could have betrayed them like that. The pain you must have felt, the loneliness and the guilt and then after your whole ordeal he had cast you aside, pushed you away and never given you a single chance to explain.

He eventually turned to look at George who looked utterly broken by the news, his regretful inner thoughts so evident upon his face. Each member of the DA looked a mixture of guilty, sheepish and sad, realising how wrong they'd been about you and what they'd done to someone who had once been their friend, someone who had suffered so much for all of them.

The meeting seemed to go abhorrently slowly until Umbridge left with Harry and Hermione on a sort of mission based upon a quickly constructed lie and Fred didn't waste a single moment before turning around on the spot and punching Graham Montegue straight in the face as soon as Umbridge had left. Seizing the momentary upper hand, the remaining members of the DA turned on the inquisitorial squad and fired an array of jinxes and spells at them in order to get away.

"Fred, Go!" George had urged whilst stunning Crabbe, allowing Ginny to step free. Malfoy fought back but he was quickly matched by Angelina who covered for Fred, blocking the exit.

"Go, she needs you!" Angelina shouted as she sent a jinx flying towards Cassius Warrington's smug face.

Fred didn't hang about and immediately ran out of the office and towards the common room where he was praying you'd be. It was quiet on the main staircases, perhaps it seemed much quieter because of the lack of portraits and bare walls but even to the few people Fred passed, he offered no explanation nor cared about what they thought. He needed to find you.

"Y/n!" He said bursting through the portrait hole and scanning the common room for you, checking the chair you'd so often occupied but found nothing except a couple of bewildered faces at his strange outburst.

"Y/n?" He called again, walking up the stairs towards the dormitories but received no reply. In his haste, he accidentally misstepped as he climbed up to the girls dorm and nearly triggered the blocking slide to appease but fortunately managed to regain his balance and stress carefully over the path he'd taken so many times before, the secret message in the steps that allowed him to breach the rules.

He threw open your dormitory door and stopped blankly when he found nothing. Your bed looked like it hadn't been slept in, there was hardly any of your things around the bed and the room. Had he come to the wrong room?

"Fred?" Your voice said shyly from behind him and he whipped around to see you looking up at him hesitantly from near the door, holding a few things in your arms and your robe tied tightly around your chest.

"Y/n," he says with a sigh of relief, moving forwards quickly to reach out to you but once again stopping short as he noticed you visibly flinch at his sudden movement. Suddenly the overwhelming agony of guilt and regret hit him anew and he vowed to slow down, hoping not to scare you away.

"I'm so sorry," he said, voice breaking slightly as he looked at your tired, sullen face and those wide, scared eyes. He'd never seen you look so broken and it killed him.

"I didn't, I don't ," he stutters, dropping to sit on the side of your bed. "You haven't been sleeping here have you?"

There's a minor pause and he wonders if you're actually going to reply to him, if he even deserves it, until you step forward and place your things down onto the bedside table. He watches in silence, noting the large book and a few packaged bandages that slip onto the table as you gingerly take a seat beside him, your feet no longer touching the floor.

"Kind of hard to when you're banished by the rest of your dorm," you reply quietly. He can't detect the tone of your voice, expecting it to be sarcastic or unhappy but it actually sounds flat and completely void of emotion.

"The chair," he realises, "you've been sleeping in that chair?" He's slightly bewildered and profoundly ashamed now, not having clicked until now that you'd been there early in a morning and late in the night, much later than you'd ever typically stayed up before. You shrug and turn your attention away, though you're yet to actually meet his eyes.

He drags a deep breath in through his teeth, resisting the urge to hang his head low on his shoulders.

"Y/n, I am so sorry, I, I don't even have words," he says, stumbling over his words- something so uncharacteristic for him that it briefly startles you. "You didn't deserve this, even if you had told Umbridge about us, no one deserves this. We were all so shocked that it could be you, of all people. We never stopped to think of why," he pauses again, steadying himself. "Snape admitted what she did to you, she tried to use it on Harry but he stopped him."

"But the quill was broken? How could she use it on Harry?" You say, finally looking up with a look of complete confusion.

"What quill?" Fred asks, completely lost himself, "the black quills? I meant the cruciatus curse, she, I mean she, on you, didn't she?"

Your silence says everything and he has to close his eyes and steady his breathing at your silent confirmation.

"What quill?" Fred feels a little bolder now and reaches for you but you pull your arm back and place it in your lap, trying not to wince as you catch the healing scars. "This one?"

He holds out his hand and shows you the faint markings from his punishment, 'I must not break rules' barely visible now. He frowns when you shake your head but don't offer any other explanation. He's frustrated that he's not getting anywhere but it's internal and he knows it's not your fault, he just wishes he could help, or go back in time and fix everything.

"Tell me, please," he says, keeping his eyes locked in the side of your face, trying to urge you to look at him. "What happened in that detention?"

"It doesn't matter," you say quickly, hopping down off the bed and stepping over to your trunk to get a fresh shirt from the laundry pile, knowing it would need changing. "I've got to shower."

You go to turn away but Fred lunges for you and grabs your arm to stop you from leaving, making you cry out in pain as soon as his fingers make contact with the tender skin. As soon as the shock wears off, he frowns, looking down at your arm before looking up to your face, seeing tears falling down your cheeks.

"Please baby, please just tell me," he says, voice breaking as his own tears well up in his eyes.

"She told you about the veritaserum?" You ask, assuming anyway and Fred nods. "Then you know what you need to know."

"No, I don't," he says quickly, trying to think of ways to stop you leaving without hurting you. "She used an unforgivable curse on you! Gave you truth serum, you cried when I touched your arm and you have bandages on your bedside table, please just tell me what happened!"

"Fine," you say, pulling your arm back. "You want to know? She tried to force it out of me, tried to get me to drink the stupid tea but I wouldn't. When that didn't work she pulled out that little stupid quill and wrote anything she wanted all over me. You wanted to know about the bandages? Fine," you said viciously, clawing at the fastening of your robe. Underneath was your once crisp, white shirt that had a considerable amount of red blood staining the sleeve. You didn't stop undressing, all but ripping the buttons away as you fought to show Fred what was underneath.

Bandages littered your forearms, with blood oozing out the sides. Fred's frozen as he looks at the bandages on your body, sick to his stomach already.

"Did you know Snape is a skilled occlumens? I didn't, I do now. So after she was playing with that sadistic little quill, writing whatever she wanted into my skin, he enters my mind and shows me every single fear I've ever had, every nightmare. But I didn't say a word, not a single fucking word. Do you know what it's like to have visions forced into your own mind of your boyfriend dying in front of you repeatedly, over and over until you start to go mad? All whilst your skin is slashed open just to get you to talk? Only it didn't work, so she dropped the quill and picked up her wand. I've never felt closer to death in my life but still so far away from it. But I wouldn't talk. So she forced veritaserum in my mouth and I couldn't stop it, she got what she wanted no matter what I'd fought for. And the best part? They don't heal, not truly. Nothing I do stops it, like a constant reminder of what happened."

"Princess," Fred chokes out, tears streaming down his cheeks, fighting to hold back his sobs at your words.

"No, not princess," you say sternly, emotions all falling from your face. "Not anymore."

"Please, I want to make this right, anything I can do, I want to support you," he says, nearly begging. "I have to make this right, I can't lose you."

"No."

Your voice is harsh and stern, your face expressionless again. "You believed them so easily, you all did. You believed I could do that to you, without hesitation. You didn't let me explain, never even looked at me because you were so certain that I could have done it. I've been exiled, banished and forgotten by all of you I called friends without a single thought. So you and your stupid brother and the rest of Dumbledore's friggin army can go fuck yourselves, it's not my fight anymore."

Fred flinches as the door slams shut behind you and he's left to sob openly, his devastation consuming him. Eventually when he returns to his own dorm, George says nothing upon seeing his twin's stricken face and his curtains fully closing around the bed.

The next morning, Fred has already left the dorm by the time George wakes up and doesn't see him at all around the common room or the hall, though he's not surprised. But when he doesn't show to his lessons, George worries and goes in search for his twin with increasing worry. Eventually, he finds him in the library, pouring over an array of books from the restricted section, most of them about healing spells and anatomy.

"Freddie?"

When Fred looks up with red rimmed eyes and an intense look in his eyes, it's clear to George that Fred hadn't slept. "Whatever it is, let me help."

One week. It took one week of endlessly pouring over book after book until they finally found options.

It's early morning on a Saturday when Fred creeps down to the common room was before the sun has risen, seeing you hunched over in your chair. Angelina had told him that they'd apologised profusely to you and had accepted you back with open arms back to the dormitory but you'd simply walked away and carried on sleeping by the fire, not yet willing to forgive them for the treatment you'd endured.

"Y/n, y/n, wake up," he says quietly, carefully touching your shoulder, trying to avoid anywhere that he had seen bandaged.

"Freddie?" You ask sleepily and his heart soars with hope at the noise, the familiarity of it abs the softness of your voice so heartwarming.

"I have something to show you, me and George," he says lightly, waiting for you to wake up.

"Told you both to get fucked," you mumble, squashing any hope he had, but he perseveres.

"Just this once prince-y/n, please," he says quietly. You open your eyes, seeing him still dressed in his pyjamas, pleading with his eyes and looking so vulnerable that you relent and agree to whatever he had planned. Throwing back the blanket, you surprise a groan at the stiffness in your neck and diligently follow him back up the stairs towards his dorm, accepting his hand as he guides you. Your hand fits perfectly into his, just as it always had.

"Where's Lee?" You say as you walk into the dorm room, seeing only George who gives you a small but timid smile.

"Bunking with Ron," Fred says somewhat vaguely, gesturing for you to sit on his bed. The room looks exactly as you remember albeit slightly less dishevelled than you'd experienced previously, but you don't mention anything. Fred takes a seat beside you and George moves forward, grabbing a book from the chair beside his bed.

"We don't know if this will work," George says.

"But it's better than nothing," Fred finishes, gingerly reaching out for your hand.

"What?"

"The wounds," George says gently, "Fred told me, we just want to make them better. Might not get rid of them completely but it's worth a shot."

"Found this in an old healing book, it's a counter curse for wound healing by curse," Fred says, taking the book from George to show you. "Figured Umbridge's quill must have been cursed so this might work. Please let us help."

All it takes is a nod from you, albeit slightly hesitant but truthfully there was no one you trusted more than the twins, before at least.

You could hardly look them in the eyes as you pulled away the bandages, the vile words etched into your skin by her personal sadistic quill. You heard George inhale at the deepest cut along your inner right forearm but didn't react, knowing it would be shocking to anyone.

"Take my hand, if it hurts too much all you have to do is squeeze and we'll stop, okay baby?"

Biting down on your lip to stifle your cries, you hold Fred's hand tightly as George begins to cast the counter-curse, each of you watching on with rapt attention and slight amazement as the cuts begin to slowly knit together. It was working.

You whimper as he works over the deepest, the same one Fred had accidentally caught the week before and Fred's hand squeezes yours automatically for support.

"You're doing so well sweetheart, it'll be over soon I promise," he says quietly in your ear, comforting you in anyway he could.

After the last cut is sealed, George immediately drops down to sit onto his bed, his concentration and energy depleted from focusing so hard. You can't believe it as you look down at your arms, no longer seeing blood and only able to see the faintest of marks and redness where the wounds had once been. Only then do tears begin to fall from your eyes as you launch yourself towards Fred, throwing your arms around him in appreciation. He steadies himself after a moment of being caught off guard and holds you tightly against him, shushing you gently as you cry. His arms wrap around you so perfectly, so protectively and his smell comforts you like to no other, exactly as you remember.

"You did so well, so well, it's okay baby," he coos into your ear. You pull apart slowly and immediately walk over to George, pulling him into a hug though it's a lot less intimate.

"Thank you both so much," you sniffle.

"You're welcome," they answer at the same time, making you smile.

"We've missed you," George says after a moment. "I'm so sorry for what you went through and for what I said. I should have known it wasn't your fault, you've been my best friend for so long and I'm so ashamed of myself for how easily I believed her over you, that should never have happened."

"And you know how sorry I am," Fred says, walking over to you and kneeling down until he's directly in front of you.

"You're the best thing that has ever happened to me and I was an idiot for ever thinking it was you. I know things can't ever go back to how they were before, but I love you so much that I can't lose you. Seeing you hurting almost broke me and I know that you might need time or never see me again but you need to know exactly how I still feel about you."

"It's not just you," you say in reply, heaving out a long breathe, "I pushed people away."

"We deserved it," George says.

"Baby," Fred says gently, getting your attention. "I don't know how to fix this or how to make things better, but I'll do anything. I was an idiot, a complete git but I'll spent the rest of my life trying to make it up to you. Please say this isn't ruined."

For the first time since the incident, you allow yourself to feel hopeful that things could get better, that Fred could love you again. Sat surrounded by the two people you loved most in the world, you finally felt the love and protection you'd been needing since that awful night.

"I want that," you say quietly, picking at the blanket under your fingers, "I just want things to just go back to normal." You raise your eyes up to Fred's to see him smiling back at you, clearly pleased with your words.

"Well, let's start with this then," he says with a mischievous smirk, leaning towards you painfully slowly as if he's giving you plenty of time to say no or push him away. His soft lips press against yours gently and you can't help but feel a warmth spread all over your body, almost like you were defrosting and returning back to you're usual self. His hand reaches up to cup the side of your jaw and you're certain you can feel a fear hit your cheek, though it doesn't come from you.

The next morning, you walk hand in hand with Fred into the great hall for breakfast and sit right back at the centre of the table with your friends. You assume Fred or George had threatened them not to say anything as everyone around you acts normal, pretending the previous weeks didn't exist, though one by one they all apologised to you, most notably Ron and Harry. Ginny thought you were badass for everything you'd been through, not relenting even though you'd been tortured into eventually revealing the secret. Hermione had apologised so eloquently and thoroughly that you both ended up crying in the common room as she explained about the jinxed parchment and how she'd held out hope that it hadn't been you.

Each person made it up to you in anyway they could, admitting their mistakes and regrets and though you would probably never forget, you chose to forgive.

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#emeritusemeritus #emeritusemerituswrites #harry potter #fred weasley #fred weasley x you #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley masterlist #Fred Weasley angst #request #taglist

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homely-lunatic · 7 months

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one of the things I think is rly interesting about the usher kids' deaths is that there's a clear linear pattern in how much influence verna has on the way they die, starting with virtually no influence and ending in a death 100% orchestrated by her.

like okay. perry's death? completely his fault. the only influence we see verna have on him is in her attempts at convincing him to call off the party and not blackmail people. the acid was already in the tanks, he made the negligent decision to hook up the tanks to the water system without testing them. if he'd never met verna, the party would have gone on exactly as planned and he would have died via acid rain anyways.

then there's camille. her death is similar to perry's in that there's a clear cause -> effect of her breaking into a lab full of chimps hyped up on adrenaline -> being mauled by a chimp, but there's also little hints at verna's interference. camille talks to verna right before she dies, its implied via the photo she takes that the chimp that killed her appeared to her as verna for a moment, and there's also the question of how the chimp got out in the first place. yes she probably would have died in this manner anyways based on her own decisions, but there's slightly more of a direct influence from verna than perry got.

with leo, we know that him initially killing pluto was a hallucination thanks to his drug use, but I get the impression that everything that follows is a blend of verna messing with him and further drug-induced hallucinations. the pet store he visits is actually an abandoned building full of rats that verna alters his perception of, and his visions of her in his apartment definitely feel more verna-induced than drug-induced, yet there's also kind of the implication that all the stuff with the hammer leading up to leo's death is drug hallucination-related. we also see verna appear to him multiple times; she's not just a single mysterious figure at a party or a lone security guard, she's now running a store and coming to his house and talking to him on multiple occasions.

vic is similar to leo in that her death is caused by a slow descent into madness, but the way in which this plays out is directly caused by verna. yes vic was planning on going forward with human trials, but verna is the one who shows up and poses as a test subject. there's still ambiguity when it fully comes to the question of supernatural influence, and verna's insertion into vic's life was more specific than leo's but also broad enough that its reasonable to argue that things might have played out the same had she not been there. would everything with ally dying and vic spiraling have played out the exact same way if the human trial had happened later, or if another test subject had showed up? maybe, but the actual course of events that transpired only happened because of verna's direct influence on them.

but tammy was terrorized for weeks by verna before she died. verna shows up as a replacement escort, then continues to show up in the background of tammy's life. she shows up in her apartment, appears to her in a supernatural-ish way at the goldbug launch, and when it comes to tammy's actual death she's in there fucking with her through the mirrors. I guess you could argue that she still wouldve gotten super paranoid over the launch and maybe started to hallucinate the original escort following her? but unlike the rest of them (except vic, who I feel also falls into this category), her death doesn't feel like it would have necessarily played out the exact same way it did had verna not been there. she only dies because she smashes a mirror that verna is taunting her from.

and then finally frederick, who didnt get a choice (not that he deserved one), verna steps in and 100% causes his death in a very specific way that wouldnt have happened had she not directly interfered with his life.

and then you look at the fact that the siblings died in reverse order of age, which is also in the order of shortest amount of time spent as a member of the usher family to longest, and the fact that the two who objectively had the most interference from verna in their respective deaths were the only two who were actually alive when roderick made the deal..... idk I feel like there's something there.

#fall of the house of usher #the fall of the house of usher

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guardkeywolf · 1 year

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I just saw a tiktok of a Ghost cosplayer with pet rats but i love rats i wish i have pet rats so i got curious and wanted to see how would the 141 boys(+Alejandro and/or König) react if they see me befriending the rats secretly living in the base? i would love you eternally

For some serotonin here's the video w ghost and pet rats: https://www.tiktok.com/@shapeshiftaer/video/7165160702729145605?_r=1&u_code=da6g2h666f6h6m&region=PH&mid=6970778293524040453&preview_pb=0&language=en&_d=da5j9gg07lj4j4&share_item_id=7165160702729145605&source=h5_t&timestamp=1674199079&user_id=6778003587173319682&sec_user_id=MS4wLjABAAAApPEAzCQYeDj81EpOcp49eqYK3Gktx_tiT7zNNy_uV5JmJLVK-mjeFM2SEZejwaPf&utm_source=copy&utm_campaign=client_share&utm_medium=android&share_iid=7180952232861746970&share_link_id=15b9e9f5-c5af-4378-ac37-18933696387a&share_app_id=1180&ugbiz_name=Main&ug_btm=b2001

The Rat Whisperer

Recently, the 141 had been having a rat problem and had been meaning to call someone to come deal with them. That was the case until they saw Y/n interact with them...

Price

This man stared at you from a DISTANCE

He WAS NOT getting close to them at all

If he saw you making conversation with them he would just stare

Dead stare

Mouth open and confused

He would call you up to his office and ask why you were...talking with the rats

Eventually you two would come to the agreement that as long as they rats didn't mess with anything, they could stay

Sometimes still questioned his decision when he sees them casually walking around the base

Ghost

When he saw you, he was curious to see why you were staring a corner

When he came over, he saw the rats

He didn't freak out

Just stared for a bit

"So you like rats, eh?"

Bends down and joins in on your rat meetings

Didn't mind having them around one bit

Even gave them names too

Even made homes for them

Let's some of them sleep in the room with him

Tells them stories

This man has w Rizz

W rat rizz

Soap

Was going to wakeup you up in the morning and decided to just open your door rather than knock

Bro screamed when he saw the rats

He bolted before he even step foot in there

He was no fond of them for awhile

It took you awhile to convince him that they were not going to hurt him

Even showed him the one you named "Lil Ghost" because his fur looked like Ghost's mask

Slowly he got used to them, and joined you in your room sometimes

Would love having Lil Ghost around too

Carry him on his shoulder

Feed him

Probably even end up keeping him in his room from then on

Got mad at recruits if they tried to hurt the rats, especially Lil Ghost

Gaz

My guy didn't mind them at all when he found you with them

He loved having them around if he was doing paperwork

Made little outfits for them

Made homes too and Ghost definitely helped

Called them his children

Became a Rat Dad

Named one, Gaz Jr

Brought them everywhere he went in the base

Let very few touch them though

Super protective

Let them eat some of his food if he wasn't that hungry too

Alejandro

No, no, NO

This man did not do rats no matter how hard you tried to convince him

If he saw one he screamed and did not move

Deadass frozen in place

He would literally try to stand on top of a table too if he saw them around him

Would curse at them in Spanish until they left

Wait for Rodolfo or you to get the rat

Bro kept his distance

If he saw one walking around, he would ask the recruits to get you

Poor guy

König

You introduced him to your rats that were usually in the corner one day

He didn't mind them

Was very very careful with them

Had this white rat with red eyes that he loved

He called her "Rosmarin"

Always brought clothes for her

Got mad if anyone nearly hurt her too

Loved to return from missions and see her

Took bathes with her if he could

Didn't let the other rats around her

Kept her all to himself

Thank you for this request Anon!

It was definitely fun to do!

Crazy that Alejandro's first fic on here involves rats lol

Please feel free to REBLOG this with the TAGS

Also, I do have another request that I'm working on atm so bear with me

But in the meantime, please also enjoy my tumblr page!

-Guards

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hopelesslyromanticshark · 5 days

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Hey covey,

Could you do a one-shot or blurb based of the song Before he cheats by Carrie Underwood with a female reader? Love your writing so much, it's so amazing.

💖-Aurora

⋆ ˚｡⋆౨ৎ Maybe Next Time, He'll Think Before He Cheats

𝜗𝜚 content...cheater! leo valdez x reader fic 𝜗𝜚 warnings...mentions of cheating and the repercussions that follow those actions lmao also language as per usual 𝜗𝜚 letter's from the author...hate to do my pookie dirty like this lmao but it was also so so therapeutic to write such a ragey piece of work lmao- I DO NOT CLAIM CHEATER LEO IF A MAN EVER CHEATS ON ME YOU WILL NOT SEE HIS ASS AGAIN LMAO-

────────── ౨ৎ ──────────

all the ladies love leo, right? or, maybe, leo just loves to play all the ladies.

you realize, a bit too late, that leo valdez loved the chase more than he ever loved you. hindsight's a funny thing, huh?

you should have known better from the moment he started getting a little too cozy with calypso but he just treated you so well. you couldn't help but be blinded by the rose colored glasses he slid over your eyes.

though, seeing him at the dionysus party, his arm draped over her and her hips bumping with his own shattered the whole thing for you. that's not how friends interact and they especially don't make-out in the bathroom, thinking they're sneaky when they are so so obvious.

naturally, you were crushed, but you could cry later. right now? right now you were gonna break his heart in the only way you knew how.

if there was one thing leo valdez loved more than chicks, it was cars. he harassed chiron into letting him bring a car from some junkyard for him to work on as some project. months ago, he'd brought you to see the rust bucket, wrapping his arms around your waist and pressing a kiss to your cheek, muttering about fixing it up just to take you on a date in it. you wondered if he told similar things to calypso, nearly certain he did.

rat bastard.

gods, you wanted to see him in ruins. and you just happened to know just the way to his playboy heart. Without so much as a word, you left the party, in fairness a bit tipsy but your anger kept you upright. you left leo to his bathroom escapades, a little smirk at the thought that he was gonna be obvious and unaware until the morning.

you marched your way through those woods, knowing the path like the back of your hand, which just made you sick to your stomach. you'd given so much to this boy. memorizing the way out to his safe space, just for him to throw it all away from some girl!

you weren't a football expert, but i believe this is what we call a fumble, folks.

the son of hephaestus had given you a way into bunker nine, a special little bracelet that granted you enterance. you were certain he had explained how it worked at some point, but it was far to intricate for you. all that mattered was that it worked, which it did, you doing a little cheer as you swung the door open. festus looked up at the intrusion but settled back down when he saw it was you.

"our little secret, okay, bud?" you whispered to the metal dragon, rubbing your hands over the metal ridges that you knew he liked to be petted at. the dragon gave a warm hum, the metal heating until your fingers before it settled back down once more.

you kneeled down, picking up one of the many hammers that littered the floor of bunker nine, testing it's weight in your hands before glancing up at the car. to leo's testament, it was nearly done and damn beauty. the rust had long since been replaced with a shiny new paint, the tires no longer bare and popped, and the engine purred like a big kitten.

and you were gonna leave it so broken even hephaestus himself couldn't fix it - let alone his player of a son.

originally, you were organized, shattering windows with intention and scratching the paintjob with any sharp tools you could wrap your fingers around. but the longer you went on, the more the rage festered and the more chaotic it became.

true to your word, by the time you were done, huffing and even scratched up yourself, the car looked like it got into a fight with an atomic bomb. (which, to be fair, wasn't too far off)

that shiny paintjob? it's shine was hidden behind 'cheater' and 'pendejo' being scratched on top of it. the tires, so full of air, looked like they got into a fight with a shark without how many slashes they had. and you weren't an idiot, you knew the basics of an engine. which means you knew the basics of how to tear it apart, scattering the bolts and headers around like glitter. oh! speaking of glitter, you shoved that shit so far into the air vents and gas tank, it'll take many many many generations for it to finally be gone.

you left that evening, your bracelet set before what was once been a car.

you were satisfied, knowing leo'd have his fun tonight, but his whole world would be shattered by the morning. shattered like your heart! or, and I prefer this one, shattered like the windshield!

as the sun rose the next morning, word quickly spread of leo's car and it's disastrous end. you pretended to be shocked as one of your siblings told you, raving and lying about how disheartened you were for the boy, even if you guys were broken up.

but, over breakfast, you cut your eyes to table nine, catching the glare of a certain boy. you held his eyes for a few moments, before breezing over to the table, leaning towards him as you walked past.

"hope she was worth it. maybe when you fix it up, again, you can take her on a date in it. because it sure as hades won't be me in that damn car, leo valdez."

you pulled away with a sickly sweet smile and a wink before skipping past the ares cabin, making sure to wave at a few of the boys and blow them some kisses. which left leo clenching his fist and turning away from the sight, something he knew to be jealous but refusing to admit to it brewing in his gut.

hey, not only boys can play the game! plus, girls do it better anyways.

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snivyartjpeg · 4 months

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what if we were raised together but also raised apart, unaware of each other until the day we meet and then- only then- do our lives begin to make sense?

more lore under the cut! (it's a lot)

The labs raised them in somewhat the same way- and both methods dehumanizing. Yuma solves a puzzle for a juice reward. Makoto solves a puzzle to avoid getting shocked. Both get shocked at the slightest display of disobedience anyway. Both have strict routines and regimes where every aspect of their lives seems set in stone. What the scientists didn't take into account was that raising a little genius in such conditions will eventually backfire.

They both escape their labs on the same day, shortly after they turn 20. They also name themselves Yuma and Makoto around this time, only being referred to beforehand as "Subject No. 01" and "Subject No. 02." These escapes simultaneously piss off the researchers but also fascinate them- how much of their identical choices were made based on nature vs nurture?

For the first month traveling alone, Yuma spent his time trying and failing to do everything alone. He eventually receives the help of a stranger and starts helping random people, learning he'll receive kindness in return.

Makoto spent his lonesome travels scraping by and barely surviving without the assistance of anyone else. He's still bitter and angry about what the scientists have done to him. He regrets not burning the whole institution to the ground.

They both meet at a bar, where they, of course, instantly recognize each other's faces as their own. After a lot of guarded questions, they learn that they were both cursed with the same upbringing.

So Makoto asks Yuma to help him return to the Amaterasu lab and exact revenge.

Yuma doesn't wanna hurt anyone, but agrees to come along... with ulterior motives! He wants to show Makoto that this world isn't so bad, and dwelling on getting revenge isn't everything. Think like the core relationship in Mad Rat Dead, between Heart and Mad Rat.

And why is Yuma so stuck on this pacifist philosophy? Well, he'd already gotten his revenge. Turns out, putting a bullet into the head researcher who raised him only made him feel hollow and scared. He doesn't want Makoto to go through the same thing.

They meet the other cast members on the way, doing odd jobs and favors for them and forging small bonds with all the strangers they meet. They help Halara, a pet rescue volunteer, get a cat down from a tree and in return Halara teaches them a few survival skills. The meet Fubuki, who is lost in the supermarket, but it's also their first time in the supermarket so they all end up going on an "adventure" together until the clones escort her back to her limo. She tips them a fat wad of cash that keeps them fed and housed in hotels for like 3 months. They help Desuhiko, an up and coming music star who's anxious about getting on stage. The decide to do an opening act as a comedy duo- Makoto and Yuma are familiar with street performing for money after all- and it not only has the audience in a good mood but eases Desuhiko's anxieties. The clones see their first concert together and it's the most fun theyve ever had. Desuhiko, in return, patches up their clothes for them (though, they do end up messing the clothes up again later, lol) with his impressive sewing skills. They save Yakou from getting beat down by some debt collectors and Yakou lets them crash in his shitty little apartment for a while.

This is really just a really endearing and cute road trip story in my head. It starts off tragic but once they get out it's just two guys who only understand each other trying to explore a whole new world while making other lives better.

They eventually reach the Amaterasu lab again, but by that point, Makoto doesn't have it in him to exact revenge anymore. He hates the place, but it was still his home. It's complicated. He tells Yuma that all he wants to do now is keep traveling the world together.

That's when Yuma reveals he's been secretly planning with the other people they've helped together to expose the laboratory for the corrupt place it is and get it shut down. That way they can get their revenge the right way. Makoto is ecstatic.

After they expose the dirt on their respective labs and have those places shut down, they're free to travel together again and continue helping any random people they see who need it <3

if anyone has any questiosn abt this au ill gladly answer bc it's rotting my brain <3

#rain code #raincode #mdarc #master detective archives: rain code #yuma kokohead #makoto kagutsuchi #rain code spoilers #raincode spoilers #mdarc spoilers #makoyuma #kokotsuchi #<- can we start calling it kokotsuchi it's so much cuter sounding #i dont plan on making this a fic but i did wanna share the brainrot #runaways au

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ramenwaitr3ss · 2 months

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More character/ listener headcannons!!!(Zsakuva, Yuurivoice, and Desmond ASMR edition^^)

ZsakuVA^^

My Darling and my Barista (Elias’ listener) personally knew and dated back in high school^^

Pickle ad Issac do the thing where they slowly hold hands while sitting or working together.

Perfect(Kaysons listener) has a photo of them and Kayson as a photo in their room.

Elias used to skate.

Love knows how to use more then just a knife as a weapon😭

Yuurivoice^^

Sugarboo constantly likes touching or holding one of the boys as a comfort thing.

Casper is 1 year older then Charlie.

Rookie leaves notes for Auron with a granola bar or water, or sometimes coffee.

Sunflower has a pet spider. And I will die on that hill.

Angel likes to crawl on Lucien’s shoulders, and play with his horns randomly.

Desmond ASMR

Baroness wears jewels constantly, and anytime when she looses them Castin will IMMEDIATELY without fail just buy her new ones rather then try and find it.

Rhett and the queen dance with each other in their courtyard on special occasions.

Cupcake had a pet rat, that died due to getting into chemical(she cried for days).

It’s already stated that VP tends to copy women who are wealthy so I imagine that she sometimes has outfits that parallel or are based on the Baroness’ outfits.

Tigeress can drink like a mf(since she’s a pirate duh) and has won each and every drinking game she has participated in.

#yuurivoice #zsakuva #desmond asmr #redacted audio #escaped audios #good boy audios #asmr boyfriend

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neoarchipelago · 7 months

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This is the first chapter of Paws and Claws (a long ass fic about Konig x reader with a tint of psycho Konig.)

I'm posting this to get a first impression on what you guys think... Bear in mind it'll take a while for you guys to get the full thing...

Bear with me this isn't even edited and proofread

Warnings: blood, gore, cursing, obsessive Konig.

You looked out of your window, eyes fixed on the house next to yours. The mountain of a man held the heavy boxes as if they weighed nothing at all. You shouldnt be prying. Shouldn't stare at the way his big arms flex. The man wore a black cap, hiding his hair, and a black surgical mask that partially hid his face, his eyes being the only thing you could see. From up there, in your room, your tried to figure out their color. They looked light, perhaps… blue? Green? Hazel? You bit your lip, trying to shake your head away from the curious character.

The house had been empty for so long that it was unusual to see a new neighbor next door. You lived in your small house with a roommate as you waited for the third room to get a tenant too.

Paws tapping the floor in a hurried pace made you glance at the door. You smiled in advance, thinking about the orange tabby cat who would soon jump on your bed. The cute pink nose and green eyes saw you and immediately darted to your bed, making you giggle. The fun was short term when you heard footsteps behind. You frowned as you looked at your roommate now angrily standing at the door.

"When are you getting rid of that rat?!" He screamed.

"What are you talking about?!" You yelled back.

"He keeps putting fur everywhere!"

"And you keep putting your dirty laundry on the living room floor, not doing the dishes and smoking weed with your friends on Tuesday nights!" You snapped back.

He scoffed before turning around and walking out. You shook your head, turning to Sneaky who looked at you with a glint in his eyes. No. You wouldn't abandon him.

–

For Konig, it was a drastic change to move into a house. At Kortac, dorms were the norm no matter the ranks. Now that he was part of squad 141, he was allowed to his own home, as long as it wasn't too far from base. He had found the perfect house, albeit too big for a single man, but the big garden with a pool was great. He had moved all his stuff, realizing how little things he truly had.

Rain poured outside, he walked through the house, making sure that everything was in order before slumping down on his couch to turn on his tv. It was odd to have such a moment of peace where he could indulge himself in such a normal activity.

He sighed, feeling something twitch next to him. He blinked down before gazing again at the TV just to turn his eyes back to the couch next to him. A ball of fur sat there, looking up at him.

"Ah… " he started, the cat's ear twitching. "Hi.." he added in a softer voice.

The cat stretched before walking to him, climbing on his lap and rolling into a ball.

Konig stared, slightly shocked. He turned his head trying to figure out how he possibly walked in? The two french doors were obviously open to the garden. He realized it. The cat must have been outside and searched for shelter once it started raining.

Konig looked down at the cat on his lap, unsure of what to do. It seemed friendly. His large hand met the soft animal, petting it behind his ears. The cat purred, only spreading himself more comfortably on his lap. Konig snorted, letting the animal rest on him while he turned his attention back to the TV.

A good hour later, a shy ring on his doorbell echoed through the house. He gently picked up the cat, smiling when he barely awoke before turning into a ball and resuming his nap on the couch. Konig grabbed a black facemask, heading for the door. He wasn't expecting the sight before him.

A cute lady, hair wet, little droplets falling onto her shoulders, looking up with a worried expression. Your pretty soft eyes, looking up, accentuating his much larger size compared to you.

"Hum… hi. I'm sorry to bother you sir.." you tried. He immediately noticed the slightest shake of your voice, the tiny sniffle that could have been hidden as the cold from the rain but he knew were from tears. He smiled, trying to ease your discomfort, his eyes wrinkling even though the lower part of his face was hidden.

"Did you, happen to see a cat-?" You asked.

Konig blinked.

"Ah. The orange ball of fur?" He answered.

—-

You were slightly mesmerized by the green orbs of the man. It was the first time you saw him without his cap, his shoulder length brown hair half tied up in a bun. A small scar across his eyebrow. He was huge. Towering over you. His frame imposing, muscles bulking underneath the tight t-shirt. If you weren't so worried about Sneaky, you might have stepped away apologizing for even bothering him. So when he described your precious furry friend your face lit up.

"Y-yes!" You didn't expect your voice to sound so happy.

Something flashed in his eyes before he composed himself so fast you barely noticed it.

"Ah.. já, he's here." You noticed now his slight accent. German perhaps? "Is it your cat?" He asked.

"Yeah… my.. hum, roommate…" you pointed at your house, just next to his. "He, let him escape…" you said, the last word dripping sarcasm, clearly not believing the story.

A flash of lightning eclipsed your frame before the thundering sound of the storm made you jump. You heard the man growl as he looked up at the sky before he extended a hand towards you. You shouldn't. You barely know this man. But, his eyes seemed to pull you in as your hand met his. He softly pulled you inside, the warmth of his home making you sigh. The door closed behind you, a pinch of fear running through you.

"You're wet. I'll get a towel. You can stay until the rain calms." He smiled under the mask. "You should drink tea. You'll catch a cold."

"I don't want to bother you…" you tried in a small voice.

"You don't at all. But if you don't feel comfortable, I understand." He caught himself, raising his hands a bit. You thought a little bit, another fit of thunder rolling outside. Sneaky won't let you bring him home under the rain. You nodded softly.

"Thank you sir…"

"Konig." He corrected. You took a few seconds to think, printing his name in your mind.

"Y/N…"

—

Konig's eyes were glued to you. You sat on the couch, the cat, Sneaky as you had told him, rolled up in your lap. He had chuckled at the name, then clenched his fists as you explained to him how he had been abandoned. Konig had seen you outside before. He knew you lived next door. He had often trailed your pretty features with his eyes but never got closer.

He had indulged in small talk as you spoke to him. Your medic studies while you worked at a small cafe to pay for the school. You had already guessed he was in the army, seeing him arrive with his military gear once. Your amazed expression when he told you he was a colonel made something shake in him.

It was dangerous. The way your pretty laugh seemed to be addictive. The way you curled up on his couch, mug of warm tea in hand, a blanket over your shoulders. He couldn't erase his memory of the soft blush on your cheeks when he had wrapped it around you. The rain slowly stopped, heavy gray clouds lowering the light of day in the living room. He had turned on the light, just to be able to look at you better. Cute little Hase.

He had walked you back to your house as you held the cat in your arms. You had bid him goodbye before your roommate appeared behind you.

"You got that shitty-"

—

You turned to your roommate ready to cuss him out when you stopped at his expression. Wide eyed, mouth slightly agape as he was stopped in his trail. You turned back to Konig, your breath catching in your throat. The dark gaze he was throwing at your roommate made your blood run cold. Through his pretty long lashes, green piercing with a murderous look. Yes. You were sure you had witnessed a glimpse of what he could be on the battlefield. You weren't sure how you felt about it and you honestly tried not to think about it.

Your roommate cleared his throat before walking away. You couldn't take your eyes off of Konig, his dark gaze locking on you. It was as if on cue that the lighting shone behind him, eyes shining as his frame was darkened by the bright light. You felt tiny in front of him. In front of a beast, who's hands probably murdered many men. It was a split second, a split second where you felt in the presence of someone entirely different from the soft smiles and tender eyes. It wasn't cold, it was freezing. It felt like frozen air in a deep cave, where no sun ever shone and where the damp air felt heavy.

As soon as it came it vanished, back to the soft gaze as he held your hand in his, kissing the back of it through the mask.

"Have a good evening Hase.." he said before walking away.

You needed a moment to catch your breath when the door was closed, Sneaky jumping from your arms, stretching softly before going on his merry way, not once shaken by the last few minutes.

"Who the fuck was that?"

You blinked, turning to your roommate.

"That's… the neighbor." You simply answered.

"Try not to bring him here again…" he mumbled before walking away.

After that day, you had met often with Konig. Unfortunately, since your roommate 'accidentally' let Sneaky out, the cat had managed to find various ways to actually escape to your neighbor's house. You both had explained it by the fact he probably missed his old home. Konig was absolutely thrilled to see you at his house. He was slightly worried he had scared you that first time but he made sure to draw you in again by being the softest he could. Truth be told, he wanted to keep you there in his house, where he could see you and make sure you were ok.

He was furious when he heard that simple beginning of scolding from your roommate. He wasn't entirely sure how this had escalated so quickly but he found himself overprotective of you, only a few weeks after your official encounter.

You, on the other side, tried to remain a step back. You truly enjoyed spending time with Konig, ending up spending time at his house everytime you tried to retrieve Sneaky from his place. You enjoyed the talking, the tea and the company. You enjoyed the small baking sessions. But something always made you remain at bay. That hungry terrifying look on his face when you held the brownie tray up to him as he was answering a work call. The way he brushed a strand of hair from your face with a look that made you freeze on the spot. The black facemask stayed on. It did.

You had sauntered away upstairs once, looking for something in the upstairs bathroom when something caught your eye, draped on top of what seemed to be Konig's bed. You had stepped into the wolf's den, eyes glued to the piece of fabric. It was a mask. Roughly cut and tainted under the eye holes. The black fabric seemed to be tainted with droplets, the obviousness of what it was making your tension rise. You were about to grab it when a large hand wrapped around your wrist.

You jumped before remaining still in his hold. He was behind you, the hulking man holding your wrist in a soft grasp, with hands you knew could probably snap it easily.

"No.." his voice was firm, but he obviously was trying to hold back. You looked back at him, questioning. "Don't want you near that." He said firmly again. "Scheiss…" you recognized the curse he whispered under his breath. Often hearing him spur out words in German. You turned in his grasp, looking up at him. You were playing with fire. Taunting the wolf. He could hurt you. You barely knew him. Curiosity filled you, laced in between the fear.

"Why..?" You asked.

You didn't know if it was your soft innocent tone or gaze that made his breath hitch and quicken. But he gazed down at you hungrily again.

"That… is dangerous Maus." He warned.

"Dangerous?" You asked, just as innocently. He hummed in agreement.

You looked down, biting your lip before looking back up. You wanted to ask him. Needed to. Absolutely needed to know.

"Are you going to hurt me?" You asked, voice barely above a whisper.

"Never." He growled. Your skin filled with goosebumps. "That. Is for the battlefield. Not for you. It's soiled. Don't want you to touch it." He said, accent heavy on his tongue now.

That new piece of information sent a delightful shiver through you. You weren't exactly sure why. He was clearly telling you that was the mask he wore when he was slaying his enemies. But the way he wanted to keep you safe from it, away from the bloody thing.

"Ok.." you answered, almost out of breath. "I won't touch it. Sorry…" you added.

"Good.." the praise made you bite your lip.

He let go of your wrist, grabbing the hood before walking to go shove it in a big duffle bag on the ground. You held your hands behind your back, waiting for him to come back to you. He smiled down at you.

"Come on Hase. Let's go back down, got cake for you."

He held your hand, his other one on the small of your back, walking you out of the bedroom. He had to get you out of there before the thought of pinning you down on his bed and fucking you senseless managed to fully materialize in his brain.

You felt a sense of safety you weren't sure was truly founded. As you sat down at the counter, eating a small piece of chocolate fudge cake, his eyes stuck to your frame. Watching you eat. His stance alone had changed since the interaction in his bedroom and you wondered why.

"Konig..?" You called. He groaned, signaling you he was listening. "Why are you looking at me like that?" You asked, tilting your head to the side.

"I won't let anything hurt you Hase.."

His voice was deep, almost a growl, eyes back to the darkened one he had pierced your roommate with. You tried to keep your heartbeat from making you deaf.

"Konig…" you called again. "You're a bit scary like that…" you told him honestly.

"Don't be scared maus. I'll never hurt you." He reassured again.

You took a deep breath. Two voices fought in your head, one wanting to simply give in and let him do as he wishes, and the other screaming to run away

#fanfics #fanfiction #fanfic #konig mw2 #konig cod #konig x reader #konig call of duty #konig modern warfare #konig

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softlymaximoff · 1 year

Text

Yes, your Highness

18+ ONLY! MEN & MINORS DNI (blank blogs will be blocked you do not have my permission to republish my work onto any platform.

A/N: I’m obsessed with any wanda variant I need help, also this is way shorter than intended and no smut just dynamic play soooo I’m sorry and have fun hopefully you like it

Summary: your princess has had enough of your attitude and isn’t afraid to let everybody know who you belong to.

Characters: Dark!Princess! Wanda, Gn!Reader

Warnings: degrading, humiliation, violence (if you squint I think?), corruption, mind control, pet play, Dom/sub dynamics, choking, breath play, objectifying.

Word Count: 846 😭

"How hard is it to just try and look like you’re grateful for once!" Wanda seethed as she pulled you away from the ballroom. "Wanda it's not my fault your daddy doesn't like me! He’s some mean old prick who hates everyone who even looks at you" You snapped but whimpered as her grip tightened on your arms. "Don't you ever talk about my daddy like that again Y/n. You could cost me the throne you moron!” A sharp slap echoed the hallways and you choked on a broken gasp. Your eyes filled with light tears as you kept your mouth shut, you knew not to talk back. She was in her element and her eyes were slowly darkening to their reddish-hue.

“You are nothing but a stable hand, a dirty peasant, a street rat and if it wasn’t for my daddy, the King, took pity on you you would be fed to the pigs. Do I make myself clear Y/n?” She grabbed your cheeks between her thumb and pointer finger forcing you to slightly part your lips. “Yes, your Highness” you whispered out and almost whined when she let go and rested a hand on the base of your neck. “Speak up dog” her voice was cold and sent chills down your spine.

“Yes you make yourself clear your Highness” you spoke a little louder and she rolled her eyes. “Pathetic. Utterly pathetic” she grumbled and attached her lips to your neck sucking angry marks along your jawline. “I won’t hesitate to make a scene out there to show everyone how ungrateful you really are. Throwing dirty looks at people who are just trying to be nice to their princess” she threatened and you couldn’t help but huff at her words. “Pets don’t speak, what has gotten into your dumb little brain today” she pulled back and searched your eyes to see if you were pushing her buttons purposely or if you were really upset over something.

“Speak mutt, what’s wrong” she raised an eyebrow and you just whined, a moan threatening to escape as she ran a thumb over the many forming bruises along your throat and clavicle. “My princess” You stumbled lightly over your words and looked away when she pursed her lips. “You’re even more pathetic than I thought. Of course I’m yours you silly toy” she smiled softly for a brief moment before steeling her eyes once again.

“Now do I have to ask again, how fucking hard is it to pretend you’re getting along with my father” she narrowed her eyes and grabbed the base of your neck, pushing you against the walls of the open hallway. You whimpered when her hand squeezed with a little more force than normal and she kicked your legs apart, pushing her knee in between them. “You’re such a stupid mutt. So easy to whore yourself out for your princess” she mumbled before she kissed you. Dominating the kiss and biting down on your lipstick covered lips, she sucked harshly drawing a little blood.

“Wanda” you pleaded desperately and rolled your hips as her eyes glowed a deep red. “Shut up” she growled and applied more pressure, almost cutting your breathing off. You eyes slipped shut and you parted your lips for a brief moment and she used that to her advantage, shoving two fingers in. “Suck” She demanded softly and you did just that. “My good pet” She hummed and you looked up at her all doe-eyed.

“Who knew a street rat could be such a good dog for royalty” she chuckled darkly and took her fingers out. Her eyes were now completely red, all traces of green lost. “Huh? My dumb little pet ready to submit. All brainless and needy” her magic floating heavily through your thoughts. You were nothing but a poor lowlife and you were so deeply grateful for everything the kingdom had offered you. A low throaty whine sounded out in the hallway and your knees buckled. “I think we should let everyone know who you belong to” She pulled away from you and took the sight in.

You had an angry handprint disguising itself as a choker collar, your hair was neatly dishevelled from its up-do from earlier and your lipstick was smeared. “You’re mine” she growled before walking towards the common ballroom, your wrists trapped tightly in a single hand of hers. “People of the Kingdom, Mother, Father, I have an announcement to make” She declared and pulled you out in front of her, showing you off like a prized hunt.

“Y/n will no longer be service of the Kingdom but of me. She is to be my pet, my dog, my toy, what ever title I see fit until the sun stops shining on our land. Daddy I know you don’t like her that much but I promise you I won’t let her get out of hand” she finished with a stern nod and turned to you. You were hers. Completely hers and you were to be forever grateful her kingdom spared your life.

<><><>

Tag list: @youresuchamom @yelenasdiary @cromaximoff @deadlynightshade418

#wanda maximoff #wanda x reader #wanda maximoff smut #wanda smut #wanda x reader smut #dark!wanda x reader #dark!princess!wanda

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intheshadowsbehindyou · 8 months

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Could you do the mercs with an s/o who is like- almost comically short?

Oh boy wouldn’t it be a shame if this anon asked me to do a size difference nsfw headcanons one next? Wink wink.

Mercs with an S/O who’s a small menace to society

WARNING: Older bigger men bullying the ever living shit out you. (kinda hot though?)

Scout:

- Scout will not hesitate to make fun of you at every given moment. He’s a decently tall dude so he’ll manhandle you a lot. Holding you in his arms like a personal teddy bear. Overall walking around with you in his arms.

- You bite his arms when you’re bored and he flinches and goes “Ow! What are you? A fuckin’ goblin?!” (Doesn’t he know? The smaller you are, the closer you are to hell.)

- “I could probably slug you into the stratosphere y’know.” He says. You don’t want to test that theory.

- When he’s upset he’ll pick you up, go into his quarters and lay there with you in his arms. Just like the aforementioned teddy bear analogy. If you’re screeching and biting like a fucked up chihuahua that doesn’t deter him.

————————————————————————

Soldier:

- Keeps giving you petnames like “Boot.” “Little one.” “Rat bastard.” (Ignore that last one.) and cheesy shit like that. Treats you how a rich middle aged white woman would treat her teacup pig. You’re being strapped to his back in a baby carrier while he rocket jumps.

- Gets incredibly rough with you on purpose. He likes seeing your squeaks and angry reactions. This guy definitely has a height difference thing. Throws you at enemy lines at like mach 20 knowing full well you’ll shred them like a fucking gremlin. Or stuffs you into his rocket launcher. Pick your evil.

- Lies about you being younger in order to pay less in restaurants. He somehow gets away with this 90 percent of the time. Spy is kind of envious that he didn’t even think of that.

- “NO! WAIT! DONT SHOOT! HANGFIRE! CHILD ON BATTLEFIELD!” He raises you above his head. You’re unbelievably pissed. You’re a grown ass adult. But the enemy lines somehow hesitate which abides him time to blow everyone up. He has no reason to be this smart about your height.

——————————————————————-

Demoman:

- The first time he saw you he burst out laughing. Really hard. Like nearly fell over and shit. He couldn’t stop laughing like actually. It took him days to even approach you properly and finally call you adorable.

- Picks you up when you can’t reach something off the top shelf and instead of helping you get it, he just sits you atop the shelf and leaves you there. They have to call either Heavy or Sniper in order to get you down.

- You take advantage of your height and perch on his shoulders like a parrot. The other mercs don’t understand why Demoman has a pet gremlin.

- “Er’ is my crotch goblin Y/N. They’re gonna bite your dick off if ye cap this point lad!” You can’t say you disagree with that.

————————————————————————

Engineer:

- A romantic partner whose tinier than him? Sign him the fuck up. Cradles you like a baby and kisses your head. Bounces you on his lap to soothe you. Expect a lot of sitting outside on the rocking chair at night while he rocks you in a blanket.

- You make grabby hands to him for uppies and he feels like he’s not allowed to say no. “Aww, sugarplum…” He cooes, setting down whatever he was working on and lifting you up into his arms. He might tickle your tummy if you’re fine with that :)

- Picks you up by the scruff of your uniform like a mother cat when you’re misbehaving. He will stare in amusement if you struggle.

- “Careful outside on the Badlands, darlin.. Never know when one of ‘em damn condors might be circling you.” You can’t decide if you want to kiss this man or kill him.

———————————————————————-

Heavy:

- You’re literally so small he’s scared of accidentally stepping on you or something. Always has to wiggle his way around you in the base corridors and mutter what you assume to be an apology in Russian. What you don’t know is that he’s actually cursing out the Administrator for hiring such a tiny Merc. What if you get squashed by falling debris or something?

- HE PICKS YOU UP WITH ONE HAND. YOU ARE IN HIS FUCKING FIST. YOU ARE BEING HELD LIKE AN ICE CREAM CONE.

- Treats you like a fucking stress ball. scoops you up in his hands and squishes your cheeks. Lays you on his lap like a small kitten belly up. No amount of biting or awful demon noises will ever convince him to do otherwise. Chuckles lovingly at your tiny anger. “Little, little, little. Tiny like the ant.” He baby talks you.

- Due to your height it’s impossible to bother him. Unlike the others. You can gnaw at his ankles and scratch at his chest but he remains unmoved like a large boulder. Threatens to splat you against the wall like one of those rubber toys and turn you into a pancake.

——————————————————————-

Pyro:

- In his point of view you’re actually terrifying. He doesn’t know why. But you stand out from the rest in their beloved Pyroland. You’re a creature from the primordial depths of hell that has come to eat their soul. You’re uncanny as shit.

- When they meet you for the first time it takes for godamn ever for the Mercs to finally figure out why Pyro was behaving so erratically and out of character. Engineer finally convinces poor Pyro to speak to you and it doesn’t end up in vain. You’re actually a pleasant scary monster.

- Spies don’t scare them. Pyro can kill spies with no effort. But you? Holy shit. Sometimes he doesn’t hear you come up behind them and this usually leads to Pyro spontaneously crying because you startled them. (Your team’s Spy is VERY envious of this.)

- You think this is great! You decide to play a prank on them by crawling on all fours down the dark hallway. Pyro looks like a deer in headlights. All tensed up like a cat attempting to look bigger. Two seconds later the entire base is on fire. You have to explain yourself to the other Mercs how this happened and it’s embarrassing.

- Whenever you kill someone on the battlefield it’s horrific shrieking mixed in with fleshy eating sounds.

—————————————————————-

Sniper:

- Calls you stuff like “Baby bear.” Mostly because he purposely holds you like a mama koala in his camper van’s bed and in the sniper nests. You cling to his lap and listen to his heartbeat while he scopes out the window.

- Same as scout to some extent. Carries you around wherever he goes and holds you like a plush doll. “Easy there on the lil’ daggers, mate.” You keep digging into his skin to hold steady.

- Growls at you when you bite him. Something about you both is evil and animalistic. Bites you back on your “scruff” when you bother him too much. He wants to shake you around in his teeth like a fucking chewtoy but he knows full well that might accidentally kill you. Has straight up cute aggression around you.

- Sniper your furry is showing. Helen, get yo fuckin dog bitch.

——————————————————————

Medic:

- “Well it seems you stopped growing at a certain age. That typically is due to genetics and other factors.” He says after looking at X-rays of your finger bones. Tracing his finger over the image of your growth plates as he squints to see better. He fixes his glasses back up on his nose and scratches his chin.

- He gives you a mischievous side smile. It’s unsettling. He secretly finds the size difference incredibly attractive. He tells you to take the lead vest off and waves his hand dismissively when you question his creepy expression. “What?! It is just my usual smile. I always look like this.”

- You’re not convinced. You take the vest off and straighten your team uniform a bit to get yourself situated. Without warning he grabs you by the wrist as you attempt to leave. “Ah-ba-ba-ba! I didn’t say you could go yet.” He pulls you against his chest. Forcibly. His natural heat was causing your heart beat out of your chest. He kneeled down and wrapped his arms around you. Cupping a hand over your mouth. You couldn’t move.

- The way you were (in theory) powerless was exhilarating for him. He placed his free hand on your chest and marveled in your heartbeat. Really? That’s all he wanted? Medic let out a long pleasured sigh. “Oh, that’s gooood.” He feels like he could potentially hold your tiny heart in a cute little decorated specimen jar but that would kill you, sadly. Can’t have that.

———————————————————————

Spy:

- Has unimaginable amounts of trauma from his father figure and you help him cope with said trauma a lot by being small. He deeply regrets passing by the chance of raising Scout. That in-and-itself was also a traumatic experience for him. Whenever it isn’t romantic lovey dovey adult time you lay in his arms and he looks over your adorable small body with adoration in his eyes.

- He rubs your small cheek and although he’s still frowning like always — you know full well this man is losing his mind on the inside. This was oddly healing for him. He felt butterflies in his chest as he gave you the love that his family never gave him. Jesus christ, somebody get this man a silicone baby or some shit. And a therapist. Mostly a therapist.

- He has no idea how to baby you to be honest. No fucking clue and he isn’t great at this. He does what he’s seen people do before in public. Wrap you in a blanket and pats your back. He says nothing as he does this. “There’s a scared little boy behind that mask isn’t there?” You ask him lovingly.

- He avoids eye contact after you say that. Looking away shamefully. His mouth twitches. You put your head under his chin contently.

- He stalks you and monitors you on the battlefield. Ready to stab the ever living crap out of anyone who overpowers you. In a particularly rough situation with an enemy heavy he risks his own life to backstab the opponent. You batter him for being too bold and exclaim that he could’ve killed himself. But Spy side eyes you, fixing his tie and cloaking away. He was secretly proud of himself that he had finally managed to protect somebody smaller than him. To make up for all the times he wasn’t there for Scout.

#team fortress 2 #tf2 #demoman x reader #heavy x reader #medic x reader #spy x reader #tf2 x reader #tf2 x you #pyro x reader #sniper x reader #there’s no way in hell i’m taking this ask seriously i’m sorry anon #there was a chance and I took it

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slashers-and-rats · 8 months

Note

Could you make Michael Myers' reaction to entering a house during a hunt and see a mother and her two children sleeping hugging on the couch?

rat chat: micheal seems like the type that would have some general morals. that’s kinda what this fic in general is demonstrating.

micheal myers x fem!reader | sfw |

micheal felt the autumn leaves crunching underneath his boots. no matter how silently he crept through this backyard, the sound still managed to escape into the quiet of the night. he was lucky that the wind was blowing, hard and loud, as it covered up any of his footsteps.

he was careful as he slithered up to the back of this house. there wasn’t anything special about it, nothing that drew him in and made him sure this was the target. there was no rhyme or reason in what micheal did, not always. sometimes, when hunting, he just needed to make a choice based on nothing but his own instincts. there was nothing different about this home. the only thing he noticed was a few balls strewn about the backyard.

‘must have a pet to watch out for’, he thought to himself.

he pressed himself up to a window, peering into the dark of a random room. upon further inspection, it seemed to be a living room, since in the very middle there was a couch. on the couch, laying as if she were bait in a trap, there was a woman.

micheal didn’t see much of her, only her head laying back against the top of the seat. she was dead asleep, clear by the way her mouth hung open in silent snores. he took note of her position, lingering for a moment. she seemed peaceful. he almost felt as though he shouldn’t ruin this moment- maybe he could find another house, and satiate his needs that way. but, it was too late into the night, he had to commit. didn’t he?

he pried himself away from the pane, stepping back and going to a nearby door. he found the knob and tried a few times, finally feeling it creak open and swing out near him. this neighbourhood was notorious for unlocked back doors (as if an intruder would only try the front).

he stepped up into the house, glancing down at the welcome mat he was met with. ‘remember to wipe’, it read in colourful, bubbly font. he tilted his head, amused that some woman would not have grown out of such childish things. he shrugged, deciding to amuse this little request, and he wiped some of the dirt from his boots off onto the mat. he then began his ascent into the home, weaving his way through the halls until he was back where he needed to be.

right there, sitting on the couch, was the woman from the window. micheal could hear her soft breathing now, and see the way her shoulders rose and fell with each breath. he examined her from the doorway for a minute, tracing over the shadows that adorned her face.

something tugged at him, urging him to leave and abandon this prey to its warren. he didn’t understand it, thinking that there was some… performance anxiety, or something of the like. it usually happened when he was walking into a bad situation, like a trap or a victim that liked to fight, but this didn’t seem like something he should be nervous about. it was just some lady, a sleeping beauty unaware of his presence. this was an easy target. it should be, at least.

he stepped up closer to the couch, and rounded it so that he was at the front. it’s then that he learned what the feeling was, or what it was trying to tell him.

sitting at both sides of the woman were

two kids, one to each hip. they laid over her lap and nestled into the warmth of their assumed mother, sleeping just as soundly as she was. upon closer look, micheal could see they had fallen asleep while reading a story book. a version of red riding hood, warning of wolves in the forest, and intruders like him thirsting for blood.

he was a villain. he had been well aware of that fact for a long time. he had abandoned his own virtues, deciding to find comfort in unforgivable sins, but seeing such a sight made him feel… dirty. it wasn’t common for him to be so self-aware. he usually targeted people that could be justified, a bully or a selfish landlord, but this. he could feel hell nipping at his heels.

micheal stared down at them. if one could see through the holes in his mask, they would see the intense focus in his gaze. he tried to untangle the knots that had developed in his stomach. regret, apprehension, the need to retreat- they swirled around inside of him and made him step back towards the middle of the room. doing this only gave him a greater view of the home. toys strewn about the floor, a child sized table littered with photos of the kids and this mother, and the same sort of balls from outside sitting in a heap near the same window he looked through. he should’ve known when he’d seen the yard there were kids here, he should’ve listened to his own intuition, but…

he shook his head. micheal had standards. he had needs, sure, but somewhere deep inside him there were morals, buried under years and years of neglect. he couldn’t do this, he couldn’t raise a blade to these people. yet he still felt the need to disturb, to bring some fear. maybe… maybe he could.

he went over to where they all lay, resembling the corpses he had seen many a time before, and picked up the two children. he was gentle, and they seemed to nestle into him, most likely mistaking him for their mother. she stirred only for a moment, but settled relaxed against the couch. he then got to work.

in the morning, when you were awoken by the birds singing sweet tunes, and the sun shining on your face, you found yourself on your couch. it wasn’t rare that you’d fall asleep in your living room, but this felt different. you recalled the night before, and how your children had been their with you, and it made you pat the seats beside you.

they weren’t there.

for a moment you panicked, eyes widening as you sat up and began scanning the room. it had been cleaned. toys were put away carefully in their bins, pictures had been pinned to their proper cork boards, snacks had been swept off the rug- this was not how this room had been left. you knew the kids wouldn’t have cleaned it either, not without a bit of a fight. it filled you with dread. someone had been inside, and had decided to… clean? such a kind action, and yet you were filled with unease. your home had still been entered, after all.

you pushed yourself up from the couch, beginning to look around the home, calling out for the kids. the more you called without answer, the more your chest tightened. room after room you checked, until you finally shoved your way into their bedroom, and-

there they were. they were still asleep, blankets tucked tight to their chins and peace on their faces. you made sure they were breathing and all in one piece, before sitting down on the edge of a bed. your heart was still racing, the pounding filling your ears.

you had to take a moment to breathe, to reassure yourself that it was all alright. maybe you had done this and didn’t remember. you had been so exhausted yesterday. it was a weekend, and the children had been particularly energetic. maybe, in your own half-asleep state, you had put them to bed and cleaned up the living room.

you insisted that must’ve been it, nodding your head and looking up to the window.

it was open.

you stood up quick, going over to it and leaning outside over the sill. you never left their window open, as one of the children had believed there to be fairies that would whisk them away. no, no you wouldn’t forget such a thing. you couldn’t have.

you looked outside, seeing nothing in the horizon. it seemed safe. you leaned back into the room, shutting the window tight and closing the curtains.

micheal watched from the tree line.

#micheal myers #micheal myers x reader #slasher x reader #slashers #ask

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