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sweet-s0rr0w · 2 years

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I was going to come up with my own Valentine's Day reclist, but then I thought about those fics that I find romantic and how subjective it all was, and I decided to ask a few friends and fellow hardcore Drarry fans for recs.

And then things escalated. A lot.

But I'm not even sorry, because the resulting list is just fantastic and features everything from the purest fluff to the most hardcore kink, from humour to serious angst (and MCD), from teeny micros to 100k+ fics, from fics written years ago to stuff written in the past few months. So here I present thirty different answers to the question 'what one or two fics, or scenes, or quotes, represent peak Drarry romance to you?'

Featuring answers from me, @avenueofesc, @bonesliketambourines, @corvuscrowned, @floydig, @fluxweeed,@fw00shy, @graymatters, @hogwartsfirebolt,@ihopeyoubothstaysafefromharm, InnerLilith, @ladderofyears,@lqtraintracks, @maesterchill, @moonstruckwytch, @nv-md,@onbeinganangel, @opalesqueopioid, @peachpety, @pennygalleon, @phoebe-delia, @pineau-noir, @shealwaysreads, @shiftylinguini,@skeptiquewrites, @softlystarstruck, @tackytigerfic,@teacup-tai,@the-sinking-ship, and @xanthippe74

I didn't allow duplicates BUT those fics which did come up more than once are in red. I also allowed a few people more than two if they asked very nicely because I'm soft like that don't @ me.

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@avenueofesc

💗Grounds for Divorce by Tepre (E, 122k)

Choking on his heartbeat, Harry came in close. He fit his body to the line of Draco’s back, a hand to Draco’s hip. His forehead to Draco’s neck. He smelled like himself, still, so much like himself, and the memory of him collided with the solid presence of him. Harry puffed out a breath — a short sound from the back of his throat.

Draco leaned back into it, then out — turned, put a hand to Harry’s chest, holding him back.

“You’ve been making love to me,” he said, “all night.”

@bonesliketambourines / m0stlyvoid

💗What We Pretend We Can't See by gyzym (M, 131k)

Harry frowns against his pillow, and then props himself up on an elbow so he can look at Draco properly. As honestly and deliberately as he knows how, he says, “And what if what I want is to be with the mad bastard who nearly kicked my door down at 6:30 in the morning over a Prophet article? What if I like that you’re obsessive and intense and, yeah, Draco, really rude a lot of the time? What if the last thing I want is to calm you down?”

@corvuscrowned

💗Wild (orphaned, E, 92k)

“I have learnt, over the years, that nobody ever gets what they deserve,” he said, and even to his own ears he sounded torn apart by the words, “But if there is one person on this planet that should, then it would be you. And you would have everything you’d ever wanted. And I’m so sorry, that you were ever unhappy for a day in your life, because you shouldn’t have been, because you’re wonderful. And I am so sorry that I ever caused you a single second of distress.”

💗the unfixed by @efkgirldetective (M, 16k)

"The only solution thereafter is love. Perhaps in that place there is peace—or, at least, equality; or just a great soundless blue. Survival. If the bodies are to be buried, one day, they must first be aboveground, and held; philosophized and doubted and loved. Stupid, physical things. Tongues wrapped up in other tongues. Rivers thinking of water."

@floydig

💗The Old Ways by @fw00shy (G, 366 words)

Some days, he wakes wheezing, stumbling out of bed. Running, running—worried the old fear’s finally caught up. Scared that he’s returned to his old ways. Sometimes, Harry says, “go back to bed”, like it’s a problem. But mostly, he doesn’t say anything. Mostly, he goes back to bed.

@fluxweeed

💗Talk to Me by saras_girl (T, 16k)

(the whole fic)

💗Back to You by @aibidil and @daisymondays (T, 8.6k)

Malfoy, the sneaky bastard, wiggled his fingers and managed to slide his fingers in between Harry’s, interlocking them together.

Harry was pretty sure that for a few seconds he forgot how to breathe. He was holding hands with Malfoy. He was holding hands with Draco Malfoy. He, Harry Potter, was holding hands with Draco sodding Malfoy. Except it wasn’t really Draco sodding Malfoy anymore, just Malfoy, whose hand was warm and smooth and slightly calloused from flying. Harry liked holding Malfoy’s hand.

@fw00shy

💗A Ceiling of Stars by @skeptiquewrites (M, 3k)

They were dating now, but maybe there had not been enough afternoons spent watching him until the truth of it pressed against his ribcage.

💗Second Chance by @shealwaysreads (G, 2.1k)

“I didn’t want to be an Auror. I wanted to be with you.”

@graymatters / theartfulldodger

💗Knead by @jovialobservationanchor (E, 83k)

(i get such a warm feeling thinking about it... I cannot pick a scene to save my life. It's sucked me back in, the whole thing.)

@hogwartsfirebolt

💗halcyon days by @the-starryknight (T, 1.4k)

“Divine,” Harry whispered, looking back up at him, falling into those eyes as he had done every morning for what felt like a lifetime.

@ihopeyoubothstaysafefromharm

💗GOODNIGHT FROM YOUR FUTURE HUSBAND by GallaPlacidia (NR, 14k)

“Sometimes I suddenly remember who we are,” said Draco, “and how unlikely this all is.”

💗Friends At Last by @letteredlettered (E, 8.7k)

“I meant for me,” Draco said, his hand moving on Harry’s cock, not so methodically now. “You’re perfect for me. You’re mine. You were made for me.” No one had ever said anything like that to Harry before, perhaps because it was a nonsensical thing to say. Harry had been made for a goddamn prophecy, or because his parents loved each other, or some kind of accident; Harry didn’t know, maybe all three. He certainly hadn’t been made for this breathless, excitable person above him, most of whose life had been one huge fucking mistake after another, this goddamn mess of a man who never seemed able to express himself in a semi-normal way. Harry wished he’d been made for him. He wanted to be nothing other than this moment, this moment in which he was loved and adored with this warm person on top of him who liked him well enough to say such a thing.

InnerLilith

💗Knuckles by @shealwaysreads (E, 3.5k)

("the care and love and trust they have for each other comes through so clearly and that is very romantic imo")

💗A Young Wizard, In Love by @moonflower-rose (E, 21k)

(the whole fic)

@ladderofyears

💗Even Children Get Older by @lou-isfake (M, 4.5k)

💗Unspoken Affection by @janieohio (M, 2.6k)

(two fics which I hold incredibly close to my heart)

@lqtraintracks

💗Siren Call (It's Not Love) by @the-starryknight (E, 1k)

"It’s not love, Draco lies to himself. It’s not love, he thinks, but when Harry pulls him in close, they kiss like it is." (I love this getting back together fic that Draco fully believes is not what this is about. It's so tender-painful and sinfully hot, and my heart aches for it and them.)

💗In The Red by @bixgirl1 (E, 46k)

We’ve found balance together. Neither of us ever feels owed or indebted; there is always a surplus. Every drop of blood Harry’s given to feed me and further my pleasure is paid back by my dedication to prioritising his. Every year I last to prolong his life is reimbursed by the joy he brings me each day — in ways too abundant to count. (This entire fic is a love letter to Drarry in that way that only Bix can do. It just catches on my heart and pulls every time I reread it.)

@maesterchill

💗Through the Window, Clear Skies by @tackytigerfic (M, 1.4k)

"They didn't talk about loving each other, of course. Neither of them was good with that sort of thing, and anyway Harry had always been better at doing. And Draco, well Draco didn't trust the word love. It always meant the wrong things, before. He said it once though, when Harry was about to go out in the snow for the papers, and was carelessly muffling himself up to his eyeballs in Draco’s old school scarf. Draco had kissed him on the mouth right through all the layers of green and told him crossly, I love you, and again with another kiss, the outbreath of it muggy through the wool, I love you, Harry, like Harry was somehow at fault. But he sounded like he meant it."

💗amid this warm and steady sweetness by warmfoothills (E, 21k)

(all the Jane Austen romantic gorgeousness)

@moonstruckwytch

💗Telling the Bees by @cibeewastaken (M, 32k)

“Have I made you think you were anything less than fundamental to me, less than the basis of every movement I make every single day?”

💗it all starts here by @softlystarstruck (T, 2.3k)

(the ending is just so warm and so sweet and feels like being on a sundrenched roadtrip with someone you love)

@nv-md

💗Let Me Have You and I'll Let You Save Me by Frayach (M, 6.1k)

Harry nurtures the yearning for Light in people whose instincts are Dark, but he’d sell his soul for just one kiss from a Death Eater’s son. Draco nurtures the greed for power in the corrupt, but he’d denounce Darkness and give away every cent of his fortune for just one kiss from a Mudblood’s son.

💗Like the Son Holds the Moon by @lou-isfake (M, 49k)

He remembered Draco, and re-remembered, over and over. The taste of him, the way he moved, the way he held their faces close even when they weren’t kissing. The craving for him, the intoxicating heat—he felt like Draco was burning off every weight Harry had been carrying, engulfing him in a liberating flame until he was only himself again.

💗the making of things by @drarrymybeloved (G, 989 words)

Harry is so open with his affection, dropping kisses on cheeks and hands and lips, curling two fingers around Draco’s as they walk side-by-side, shoulders brushing in a hushed conversation. The kind of love Draco has known before Harry has been at-a-distance-love, and love that hid behind snark and cool facades. But Harry, oh, how he loves. He loves with his lips, soft words and softer kisses; he loves with his hands, gentle and solid and strong; he loves with his eyes, luminous green like leaves when sunlight passes through them.

💗The Next Twenty-Four Hours by saras_girl (M, 3.4k)

You kiss my eyelids and they sting, knowing that no one will ever get the chance to see how gentle you are capable of being. You’d probably never want to show them, anyway. And I know that none of this is really about what I’m going to lose, but if I think too hard about it any other way I’m afraid I might lose my mind.

@onbeinganangel

💗the moon between my hands by @softlystarstruck (M, 3.7k)

“We bonded through nightmares and insomnia.” Harry presses her forehead hard against Draco’s. “We’ll be alright. Turn around, I’d want to hold you.” “I’m too tall to be the little spoon,” Draco protests weakly. “That’s bollocks.” Despite Draco’s claims, Harry is right; she fits around Draco’s back perfectly, slotting their knees together as Draco curls into herself. Harry presses soft kisses to the prominent bumps of Draco’s spine, eliciting a content hum.

💗The Bolthole by GallaPlacidia, Tepre and aideomai (E, 54k)

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” said Draco, then opened his eyes, looking concerned. “Are you all right?” Harry nodded. “Are you crying, or is it the rain?” asked Draco. “I was scared,” said Harry. Draco reached out and brushed his freezing thumb underneath Harry’s eye. Harry didn’t mean to but he turned his face and pressed it into Draco’s palm, his beard prickling at Draco’s skin, Draco’s long fingers tenatitive on his cheek. Harry drew in a long breath. He swallowed. He pulled back and took the tea towel off Draco’s face. Draco was staring at him.

@opalesqueopioid

💗For Thine is the Kingdom by @kedavranox (E, 67k)

"I used to wish I didn't want you so much." Draco trails a line up to Harry's collarbone, and Harry trembles beneath his touch. "That's a terrible thing to say. I love the way you want me." He clutches the towel at Harry's waist. "Can I kiss you?"

He takes a car back up to Charing Cross to head to the Leaky Cauldron, but on his way, he spots a bouquet of white lilies sitting outside of a charming flower shop and thinks of Harry.

@phoebe-delia

💗Letters Through Time by JulietsEmoPhase (T, 5.7k)

(the whole fic)

💗Operation: S.M.W.L.N.T.E.T.H.S.P by XxTheDarkLordxX (T, 5.3k)

(especially the last scene. the tension, the romance, culmination—just everything)

@peachpety

💗Silver Bells by @vina-writes (T, 2.5k)

Fuck, he was going to die here, with nothing but three tubs of ice cream to garnish his frozen corpse. He was going to get a Santa-themed murder, and everyone would call his case something dreadful, like the Holiday Homicide. Worse, he was going to die in the ugliest fucking outfit he’d ever worn and every crime scene photo taken would have his godawful cardigan and hat in it.

💗Model Behavior by Chibaken (T, 4.2k)

“Harry loved Luna. She was kind and effervescent and smart and creative and generally one of the purest, loveliest human beings he’d ever had the pleasure of meeting. He looked over her now, eyes drawn to the dress she wore — covered in live flowers every color of the rainbow — and smiled. “No way in hell,” he declared.”

@pennygalleon

💗freely, as men strive for right by @bixgirl1 (E, 17k)

“I’ve got too many ideas and zero experience.”

“Tell me your ideas,” Draco murmured, the brush of his lips just under Harry’s coaxing another excited twitch from Harry’s cock, “and I’ll show you how to do them to me.”

💗By The Grace by @letteredlettered (T, 140k)

“Potter, you fool,” Malfoy muttered. “My body doesn’t know how to make a cell that doesn’t love you.”

@pineau-noir

💗Six Time's a Charm by @caroll-in (T, comic)

(the whole thing is a rom com but the last panel is so tender and perfect)

@shealwaysreads

💗handsomer & handsomer still by @fw00shy (NR, 151 words)

(a perfect short)

💗As Easy As That by @moonflower-rose (E, 4.9k)

(made my heart all clenchy and warm)

@shiftylinguini

💗Slip Into My Lover's Hands by @lqtraintracks (E, 5.9k)

(such a glorious vibe... SO romancey...and also insanely porny)

@skeptiquewrites

💗Market Saturdays by @sorrybutblog (M, 3.3k)

“The anticipation makes the payoff sweeter,” Draco responds, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “Do you think so?” “I know so,” Draco says, rolling over and boxing Harry in beneath him. “Some things are worth the wait.”

💗Sourdough by@academicdisaster24 (M, 17k)

‘Yes.’ Harry said it so simply, and Draco tugged him back down, arching towards his mouth and Harry met him there, hand behind Draco’s head, and Draco’s mind - always whirring, always chatting, always spiralling - went peacefully, perfectly quiet.

💗Sweeten to Taste by bigblackdog (E, 51k)

(every single dish in Sweeten to Taste but starting with the buckwheat crepes)

@softlystarstruck

💗Still Warm, Still Warm by @tsauergrass (G, 4.9k)

“Draco,” Harry said. “I—I adore you.” Draco let out a shaky breath. “Even if it wasn’t to court you,” Harry swallowed, “even if it wasn’t—I would have given you all those gifts. They made you happy. I just wanted to see you happy. And you don’t have to—give me an answer, if you don’t want to. Whenever you’re ready—if you’re ever ready—I’ll always be, I’ll always—” Draco leaned in and kissed Harry on the mouth.

@sweet-s0rr0w

💗Modern Love by @tackytigerfic (E, 61k)

It's all Harry can do to keep quiet. Having Malfoy touch him like this—having anyone touch him like this—feels like too much. No one has ever laid hands on him like this, with such focus, like he’s the only thing that matters. ... Malfoy is probably the most lovable person Harry can think of, it turns out—he just hadn’t known it before. And in the end, it was just a case of Malfoy deciding to let Harry love him, that was all. Once Malfoy made that decision, there was nothing Harry could have done.

💗That Old Black Magic by @bixgirl1 (E, 78k)

Harry took in the sharp angles of Draco’s profile. “That’s not why.” He nodded and forced a smile to acknowledge Ron, who was now waving at him like a lunatic with both arms over his head, like he thought Harry hadn’t heard his bellow. Harry swallowed, tired of pretending. “It’s not because it’s Saturday. I’ll want you tomorrow, too,” he said, rending himself stupidly bare, and heard Draco’s breath catch as they went in together to fill the last two seats at the table, one at each end.

@tackytigerfic

💗Far From The Tree by aideomai (E, 112k)

(it's so cleverly set up - we can see the romance arc from both ends, so to speak. The line "“You can, rougher, if you like,” epitomises that balance - it only makes sense in context but it is so very much about their romance and the way they grew together in love.)

💗Dangerous by @sweet-s0rr0w (T, 1.1k)

(the ultimate in established relationship with a twist. ..."the way his body starts to shift, automatically, to accommodate Harry in his bed" makes my heart clench. Follow that with "Are you getting in or not?" from Draco, and later, “Draco.” Harry’s voice is steady and sure. “There’s no-one else. I’ve tried, believe me, but it’s true. And I think maybe it’s time to stop trying.” Exquisite yearning and a sense of pining for each other and what they could have together, even when they are together. Devastating.)

💗I, Ferret by curiouslyfic (T, 2.1k)

(an epic lifetime of love in 2k, the ultimate romance. "Harry worries then, because this feels brilliant, too, and brilliant things just don't last in Harry's life" and yet we have the privilege of getting to see just how long this brilliant thing does last for them - " And death won't us part… and he can't breathe, can't think, can't speak, can't move, because Draco's giving him forever. Harry's never had forever in anything. Can't believe he'll get it in this. Good things never last in his life, but this will. This will. Draco's promised…" Never fails to make me teary!)

💗Oxygen by @maesterchill (T, 4k)

(i'm such a sucker for hard-won, grown-up love. I love how tired they both are, how hard they work, how they're willing to shape themselves around the other's life. And the line with its dual stresses: "When I look at you, Malfoy, I see you,” he says. “I see you.” Romance for me is a lot about making space, tolerating, making decisions, working at things. And this fic has all those feels, while still making me believe in the magic of true love.)

@teacup-tai

💗Kaleidoscope by saras_girl (E, 104k)

(in love and not knowing how to tell my auror partner I'm in love)

@the-sinking-ship

💗dirtynumbangelboy by@magpiefngrl (E, 39k)

“Harry’s grinning at him, pale and tired and windswept, but radiant with joy. He offers the Snitch to Draco. ‘This is yours. I got it for you.’ An audible awww from the spectators reverberates around the stadium, as Draco closes his hand around Harry’s palm and kisses him. Harry’s lips are freezing cold, and Draco’s doing his best to warm them up with his own lips and his tongue. His white shirt and designer jeans are getting all wet from contact with Potter’s soaking uniform, but Draco doesn’t stop. He kisses Harry until he has no breath and then he kisses him some more.”

@xanthippe74

💗Still Life (orphaned, M, 3k)

(every sentence makes my heart hurt in the loveliest way)

#drarry #valentines recs #i'm going to have a little lie down now #don't mind me #this got out of hand #as usual #ss recs #sorry for any broken links #also thanks tacky for the rec of my fic #you never listen to me you bastard (affectionate)

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deceitfuldevil · 3 years

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Truth Serum

Pietro Maximoff X Reader

Summary: While working with Tony and Bruce in the lab you accidentally drink some very experimental truth serum, leading to some unwanted confessions with your coworkers.

Warnings: use of y/n, swearing, lots of dialogue, barely proofread, etc.

Word Count: 1.7K

—

You were busy working with Tony and Bruce in the lab and jokingly Tony placed his latest concoction next to your drink but you didn’t realize until it was too late and you drank Bruce’s experimental truth serum.

“Jesus Tony can you turn down that obnoxious music? I’m so sick of that stupid 70s rock music you’re always playing.”

Tony stopped what he was doing are looked over at you in shock.

“L/n, what the hell are you talking about? You told me you loved my music.”

“Well I lied, I lie to you a lot actually.” You looked up eyes blown wide with dear as you covered your mouth after saying that.

“I did NOT mean to say that.”

“Y/n… did you just take a sip of that beaker Tony so stupidly placed right next to your drink?” Bruce asked pinching the small space in between his eyebrows

You looked down as remorse filled your gut, noticing a small dribble of blue liquid slowly falling down the side of the beaker you obviously just took a drink from. Your eyes life to meet Bruce’s as you slowly nodded a small yes.

“Well, no thanks to Tony now we get to find out if my very experimental truth serum actually works.”

“TRUTH SERUM?!” You shouted, the last thing you wanted was for your team to have unrestricted access to your secrets.

“No thanks to me? Are you kidding Banner? This might be the most fun we have with Y/n all year!” Tony said with a cheeky grin

Your groaned and let your head fall onto the desk you were sitting at. “How long will this last?” You asked muffled

“Best case scenario for you? It could wear off within the next 30 minutes. Worst case scenario? You could be highly responsive and overly truthful for the two days.”

Tony broke out with a loud cackle as he got up from his desk and exited the lab “Good luck kid!”

“And theres no antidote?” You pleaded

“Sorry, but we were barely in the trial phases of creating this and we don’t try to make an antidote unless we know for sure that it works.”

“So how the hell am I supposed to deal with this in the meantime?”

“My best advice? Lock yourself away in your quarters for the next day or so to avoid saying anything unsavory to the rest of the team. Because I don’t have a doubt in my mind Tony left to go and tell the whole team about your little predicament.”

But before you could reply Sam, Rhodey, and Bucky all came running into the lab practically running over each other.

“Okay, I’ve wanted wanted to know. How do you feel really about Redwing?” Sam asked pushing Rhodey and Bucky aside.

“I think you should find a girlfriend so you stop obsessing over a high tech piece of metal.” You said with an unholy amount of sass, already sick of this treatment. Bucky burst out laughing but you sent a pissed off glare his way.

“Don’t think you’re safe either beefcake. You’re 106 years old and still can’t take a joke, not to mention that you’re forgetful as fuck. I mean who the hell just forgets that they have a vibrium arm? I’m not even going to get started on that staring problem you have that you think is so intimidating.” You snapped, shutting everyone in the room up. Before leaving you locked eyes with Rhodey.

“Oh hi Ego Machine! Don’t worry, I didn’t forget about you. I mean who could when you tell that story of how you dropped a tank at the generals feet every single party? I mean, BOOM were you looking to be interesting?”

After shutting every one in that room down you stormed out and locked yourself in your room. You really could tell if you had taken truth serum or just a liquid curse. You never left your room for the rest of the night, not wanting to risk dinner with the team. But you woke up around 5:30 in the morning to. Very strong feeling of hunger, and prayed no one else would be up this early as you snaked down into the kitchen. You walked past Wanda sleeping quietly on the couch as Vision floated peacefully in the corner.

“Creepy motherfucker…” you whispered as you stepped into the kitchen

“What was that you said about my husband?” Wanda said, suddenly on the other side of the counter looking at you with a tilted head. You jumped almost spilling your cereal

“Jesus Christ Wanda! A warning!” You said clutching your head with one hand and the cereal box with the other. But she only looked at you and smiled mischievously

“You can ask anything you want but you’re not allowed to be upset by the answer” you stated plaining, pouring some milk into your bowl.

“Are you talking about the truth serum you took yesterday?” Wanda asked, tilting her head at you.

“Yeah, it might not wear off for another 24 hours. Everyones been dying to find how I ‘really’ feel about them since Tony ran his big mouth and told everyone about this stupid serum I drank.”

“You do remember I can read minds, right? I always know when someone’s telling the truth or lying, I just don’t always call them on it.”

“Right.” You said quietly as you stuffed your face with cereal so you could go back to your quarters as soon as possible.

You sat alone in your room unbothered for the next few hours, until you heard a rock at your door.

“Don’t come in! Go away!” You shouted turning the page of your book assuming whoever was on the other side of your door would kindly fuck off. But as a tall man with a mop of silver hair entered your room you sighed dramatically and threw your book at him, missing spectacularly.

“I could’ve sworn I said to NOT come in.” you said as you crossed your arms over your chest, looking at the ever so muscular man making his way over to your bed.

“And when’s the last time I took orders from you?” Pietro said with a smile.

“You never take orders from anyone, I’m surprised you haven’t been kicked off the team yet honestly.” You spat, bitter that he wasn’t respecting your wishes to be left alone. A pit of nerves also started to grow in your stomach the closer he came to you knowing how you really felt about him, and that if he asked there’d be nothing stopping you from telling him the truth.

“Ah, you wound me dragâ.” Pietro says as he mockingly clasps his hands over his heart as if you’d shot him. You just rolled your eyes in response.

“The team tells me you’ve become somewhat of a bitch since yesterday, is that true?” He asked, sitting down at the foot of your bed.

“I’m not a bitch, Tony just tricked me into drinking some of Banner’s experimental truth serum. But you already knew that didn’t you? Either way, spoiler alert. The stupid serum works and probably won’t wear off for another 12 hours. Besides, I’m only a bitch to the team members I don’t like.” Your eyes widened realizing what you just admitted to Pietro

“I suppose that’s true, Wanda did tell me you weren’t too bad when she ran into you this morning.” Pietro said scooting up next to you in bed, normally you’d tell him to fuck off before he got too close so he would know how much you loved being in his arms but when he asked

“Is this okay?” As he stretched his arms over your shoulders pulling you into his chest

“Yeah, I love it when you hold me. Or just touch me in general, always makes me feel like I’m on cloud nine.” The confession just spilled right out of your mouth, causing you to once again to clasp a hand over your lips to prevent you from saying anything else.

Pietro looked down at you with a shocked eyes but a smug smile, deciding to push his luck he asked “Then why do you always push me away and tell me to fuck off anytime I hug you?”

“Becwagh wi dwomt vhmnf to nmfh…” you said, keeping your hand over your mouth to muffle your answer. Pietro shook his head light at you as he took your hand off your lips and held it, gently caressing your knuckles with his thumb

“What was that darling?” He said as he cobalt blue eyes poured into yours. It’s like he already knew how you felt but just needed to hear you say it to confirm his suspicions. Months of pinning after you, and now here was his chance. He had no other choice but to act on it. You swallowed the last bit of pride and fear held in your chest and said

“Because I don’t want you to know how I really feel about you.” The last of your walls came crashing down as you smiled gently at the handsome man before you, he gently tucked a strand of hair behind your ear as his faced inched closer to yours.

“And how do you feel about me dragosté?”

“Like you’re the only person in the world I could ever fall in love with.” That was all Pietro needed to push aside his ego hearing how you really felt about him as he leaned down and closed the gap in between the two of you pressing his soft lips to yours. Moving gently with you as his lips slotted perfectly over yours, you breathe in his musky scent as you ran your hand across his chest pulling him closer to you. Sadly it wasn’t long before you both ran out of air and had to pull away

“So how do you feel now?” Pietro asked with a cheeky grin plastered on his lovestruck face

“Like I could kiss your stupid face all day.” You said grabbing the collar of his shirt and pulling him back in for a much more heated kiss.

The rest of your afternoon and week into the evening was spent in Pietros arms sharing soft kisses and fleeting touches. Although admittedly he was sad when the truth serum wore off and he couldn’t ask you any and everything under the sun about how you felt about him.

But you’d end up showing him how you felt in other ways later on ;)

—

A/N

Ahhh here’s my 4th post that will be published while I’m away at camp! Found this little bit in my notes as well and just fleshed it out enough to post! Hope this was enjoyable!

Much Love,

—Skyler

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hotwings0203 · 3 years

Note

Meeee. I want a longer version of the voyeur deku and bully kacchan. but in kacchan's pov tho. 💜💜💜👀

My dear anon. You ask and so you shall receive 💓

Pt.1, Pt.2

Tw: implied gangbang, stalking, implied noncon

If there’s one thing Katsuki Bakugo hated more than Deku, it was you.

No, actually, scratch that.

He couldn’t stand you around Deku.

As his childhood friend-or rival, whatever the fuck you wanted to call it, Bakugo knew Deku like the back of his hand.

He knew how he liked his breakfast, eggs runny with cheese and pepper sprinkled in the middle. He knew how crazy he could be as a fanboy for All Might, collecting over 500 antiques of the hero. He knew how he liked spring better because then he could stand under the Sakura trees and close his eyes in bliss while the petals floated softly down on his face.

He knew how he liked to steal your panties and jerk off to them.

He knew that his favorite position to watch him rape you from the front so that he could see every expression while you were filled to the brim with cum.

How the fuck could you be so blind?

Did you not notice the way your undergarments slowly started to vanish, one by one? Did you not realize who’s handwriting it was when you found yet another threatening yet lewd note in your locker? You had to actually be brain dead to not catch on to how he was always the last person out, just to trail behind and watch how your ass swayed when you walked out of the classroom.

But no, apparently you were even more stupid than he thought.

Because instead of correctly matching a face to actions, you thought him, Bakugo fucking Katsuki was the one doing all of this.

He supposed he couldn’t actually hold it against you though. I mean, he was the one slipping a hand up your shirt when you were walking out said door, he was the one who was shoving you against the lockers right when you were about to unlock it and find the notes, and he was the one who tore your panties in two, dangling them in front of your face while you pleaded for him to give it back. He never did, of course, he simply threw them over his shoulder and proceeded dragging you away so he could fuck you in privacy.

But he guesses there wasn’t much privacy if he was being watched all the time.

It was actually pretty typical of Deku. To leech off of what he left behind and try to claim it as his own. First his All Might obsession, then his shoot style, and now you? It’s pathetic, but typical.

He should’ve realized it wasn’t the shadows moving in the corner of his eyes when he was buried to the hilt inside your warmth. When the hairs stood at the back of your neck in the showers, it wasn’t because he was fucking you dumb, it was because someone else’s moans were in synch with his.

But it’s okay, because he knows and you don’t. He knows how the dweeb looks at you, how he sports a tent in his pants when you innocently lay a hand on his shoulder, he knows why your window is broken even though you fell asleep with it intact.

He catches Deku one day. He catches him red handed like the little rat he is.

It was so easy, too, the green haired little shit follows him around like some lovesick puppy anyways. Sometimes he can’t tell if he’s following you or himself.

You walk home from your night classes one evening, when the night is darker than your own shadows and the stars barely dust across the sky. No one else is around, and so you clutch your bag a little more tightly against you whenever you hear a leaf or a start car rustle in the trees surrounding your path back to the dorms.

Bakugo knows your schedule, of course. You take English and Statistics in the morning and save Quirk Training for the evening when you’re the most tired-a stupid plan, in his opinion.

Or at least he thought, at first. Turns out that you’re the easiest to follow when you’re spent and covered in bruises from being thrown against rocks and burned by fire from class. He wishes he could’ve seen you in person when that all happens, but it doesn’t matter when you’re stumbling down the cobblestone path towards your dorm, deaf and blind to any person that might be right behind you.

You just want to go home, he can accept that. Especially when he can so easily trail after you, merely 20 feet away on the same path as you. No one would suspect he’s up to no good from the leisurely way he strolls with his hands in his pockets, and he would bet his entire life that you wouldn’t waste a second to turn around and check your surrounding in favor of hurrying up to your room so you can sleep the aches away.

He might be subtle, but Deku isn’t.

The fucker hides in the bushes and almost crawls like a bug in the foliage after his two favorite people. It’s not even a clever disguise because his hair is three shades lighter than the leaves on the thickets.

Bakugo can hear the twigs snap and rustle as he bumbles around trying to be inconspicuous. He rolls his eyes and turns around, a deep scowl on his face.

“You’re not fooling anyone you bastard. Get the fuck out here right now before I blast you away.”

It doesn’t even take a full three seconds before Deku’s head meekly pops up and he gives a weak smile.

“H-hey Kacchan. Nice to see you here, I just dropped my papers-“

“No you didn’t. How long have you been following us?”

Deku blanches and slowly lifts his eyes to meet Bakugo’s. His mouth might’ve tried to open and refute the accusation, but when he saw the subtle smirk in the latters eye he found himself caring less about being caught.

“Howd you know?”

“You fuckin’ kidding me?” He scoffs and takes a quick glance back at you to ensure that you hadn’t walked too far off. You were still slowly trudging away, an easy distance for him to cross. “You’re about as stealthy as my quirk you freak.”

Deku laughs nervously and scratches the back of his head, also trying to quickly turn his head to see where you are.

“You likin’ the show so far?”

“Huh?” The green haired boy snaps his head back to him, blushing furiously now.

“You heard me. And don’t pretend to be so scandalized, you’re not holier than thou.”

The low voice to an almost predatory tone makes Deku drop the act. He straightens up a bit taller and his eyelids lower, his brows raised in a mocking sneer of some sorts. His lips curl and his teeth gleam in the moonlight, almost looking like fangs.

Bakugo has to remind himself for a moment not to back up a step.

“Yeah, I’m likin’ it.”

“I knew it. I bet you watched us every time we fucked, you bastard. Next time I’ll make you pay for front row seats since that’s where you always seem to be.” He crosses his arms and stares Deku down.

But the other doesn’t cower. Instead, his expression morphs into that of a weird hopeful look.

“I wouldn’t exactly say fucked is the right word. I’d say raped is better, Kacchan.”

It’s the utter confidence and ease in which he says this that makes Bakugo do a double take, his scowl breaking for a moment.

But he regroups. He knew this little shit was weird and fucked up, but he didn’t realize he was twisted beyond repair. In reality, he knew he was actually having sex with you without your full consent but hearing it from a guy like Deku made it so much worse.

It made his heart pound a little faster, while it made Dekus mouth water.

“Yeah? You liked watching me motorboat and fuck her tits? You liked hearing her scream for me, scream to get away from me too?”

And even in the shadows from the trees he can see how hard the degenerate nods his head eagerly like a dog waiting for its bone.

Even though he doesn’t like how the glint in his eyes darken with each vile word coming from his own mouth, he can’t help but go further down this rabbit hole and see how much Deku can take before he snaps-he’s never seen him so hungry for something before, except for when he would be around All Might.

So he eggs him on.

“I bet you got off on watching her struggle underneath me, didn’t you?” It’s less of a question and more of a statement to which Deku confirms.

“I did. I got off so many times I thought I’d have to get it checked out. But honestly, I think you could do better.”

Katsuki wasnt expecting that response.

“Who the fuck are you to-“

“Have you ever really savored the look of fear in her eyes? Have you ever tied her up and really played with her?”

His voice gets stuck in his throat as Deku continues.

“She’s pretty when you fill her up, but I can’t help but wonder..what would she look like with every hole plugged?”

He has no right looking so shy and nervous when such filth leaves his salivating lips. A drop of spit falls to the cobblestone and as Bakugo grimaces and steps back a bit, he realizes that he has not given his childhood rival as much credit for being a creep than he actually is.

“No fucking way. You better not be suggesting you get in on any of this action. She’s fuckin’ mine and I’ll be damned if I have to share her with some useless fuck like you.”

“I promise I won’t be useless, Kacchan. I’ll make sure to keep her moving at all times. She won’t stop bouncing when I’m with her, please, please let me give it a try too.”

And when he doesn’t look convinced, Deku rambles on like a madman. “I’ll even gag her with her own bloodstained panties so that she can shut up and I can focus better. I won’t ask you for her pussy either, I’ll take her ass or throat instead if you want!”

Katsuki wishes he didn’t hear the childhood boyish eager in his voice as he spoke.

He also wishes his dick didn’t get quite so hard when all of that was said.

“God, just shut up already, she’s getting farther now. Okay look, I’ll let you give it a go this one time only so that I can fuck her in peace without you staring at my ass the entire time.”

Dekus eyes light up and he lifts a leg over to step over the hedges. “Really, you mean it? I can fuck her too?”

Bakugo snarls and turns away, heading towards the same path you took. “Whatever, just don’t think this is gonna be a regular kind of thing. I worked hard to get myself a toy and I’ll be damned if you fuck it up for me.”

And when they both join the other towards you, there’s a moment when you glance back that you think the shadow that has been following you this whole time has turned into two.

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multiplefandomsblog · 3 years

Text

request; Can I request Nagito, Kokichi, and Rantaro with an s/o that has a hard time understanding why someone feels a certain emotion in situations?

pairing(s); rantaro x gn!reader, nagito x gn!reader, kokichi x gn!reader

warnings; blood, violence, broken noses, strong language, kind of angsty — sorry that nagito's is super long- i started off with him and i haven't written in a long time so i just shit all over the place, fluff at kokichi, i have mood swings I'm so sorry about the whiplash you are about to witness

note; yesss i am back to finish these requests yurrrrrr sjansjdhfbasdkjfds I'm not gonna make a big announcement or anything(I'm still trying to figure out how to balance everything in my life rn, so I'm sorry for people who are waiting on me—) , just gonna spit out as many finished requests as i can, sorry for the abrupt pause of everything by the wayz ill be (hopefully) regularly posting works from now on.

(also this request was kind of vague, so i used the example of someone getting upset/angry and reader not understanding why; i hope that's okay :'))

Nagito Komaeda

◊ I think Nagito would understand your struggles more than anyone else.

◊ And… honestly, it kind of reassures him that you share a struggle with him. It makes him feel less alone, less like the odd one out.

◊ Being similar to someone like you in any way, even if it was a genuinely difficult and real struggle; was a blessing in disguise for someone as lowly as him.

◊ Getting that out of the way, Nagito would never see your struggle as what it is. The way he views you, how highly he puts you up on a pedestal, as well as how much hope he believes you to hold; he, at first*, won't help you at all with your struggles.

◊ As a strong believer of hope overcoming despair, good defeating bad; Nagito is positive that the struggles you hold will always be defeated, bludgeoned into a despairing sludge by your all-mighty hope.

◊ And at first, he won't even think of this as a bad thing! You should be proud of it, of course, unless it stirs despair within you.

◊ * That being said, if he sees you struggling with your inability to understand human reactions to an awful point, he would put his obsession with hope aside, and focus on trying to help you as your boyfriend.

◊ Though I'm afraid, he wouldn't be much of a help, because he gets stuck on this one too.

◊ If you ever unintentionally angered someone, however, and/or provoked them to potentially hurt you; he'd immediately step in and lay the damp washcloth of apologies on the accidental fire you had set.

◊ Though there is a high chance, he'll make it worse by saying something he hadn't intended to sound condescending. It just came out that way.

◊ Nagito would never put your well-being before his insatiable need for you to accelerate and empower your hope.

◊ He's your boyfriend before he is your admirer of hope.

— "What...? How can you- how can you be so calm!?" Confusion, fear, and intimidation seemed to overwhelm you as you stepped back, eyebrows creased in utmost confusion as the person before you, seemed to have been angered by your wording.

Suddenly, you had started repeating and reversing over what you had previously said, scanning your wording for things that could have been perceived as offensive; only to grow even more confused as you had found none.

"I... What? Are you... are you mad at me or something?" Your genuine tone of voice, as well as the genuine look of confusion on your face, had been blurred and unnoticed as the ugly emotion of anger seemed to destroy their human senses— and the person had unfortunately taken your question as an insult.

Without another word, the sickening crunch of flesh and bone hitting flesh and bone echoed throughout the trial room. Flesh and bone that had thankfully, and unfortunately, hadn't belonged to you.

"Holy- Someone hold them back!"

"There's... no need for that...!"

Turns out Nagito took the hit for you.

He peeled the hand tending to his nose away from his face, revealing the nasty bruising and the blood dripping down his nostril—despite the gruesome sight of it all, he still seemed to be smiling. Smiling as if something amazing had just happened, and he was dying from the joy he had been feeling.

He wasted no time to spew out whatever he could think of, despite the shock and adrenaline from getting a broken nose, he still fought through the struggle to speak properly, as well as merely breathing without immense pain.

It was like second nature to him, to steer the blame and the aggression away from you—even if it almost killed him. Anything... to protect his hope.

"Haha, this is... Whatever you need to achieve your hope, whether it be a good old-fashioned beat-down or... murder;" a laugh crossing the line to psychotic erupted from Nagito's scratchy throat.

"I personally invite you all—especially (name)—to bruise me up and brutally murder me for your pleasure, and your hop!" —all at the expense of him making sure no one gets the chance to lay a single finger laid onto you.

◊ He loves you, and he swears this is out of (mostly) good intention <3?

◊ i- i think i lost it somewhere in the middle

Rantaro Amami

◊ Literally, the most understanding, supportive, and comforting man you will ever meet and have as an emotional support boyfriend when you struggle with humans and just... humans.

◊ For first impressions, Rantaro will remain as understanding as he already had been, and is. If he visibly sees you struggle with the reactions of others to specific situations, he'd never start up shit, as well as assume you mean something bad immediately. He will always give you the benefit of the doubt, and the fact that he loves you may have been a factor — but I swear, he does this with everyone else too.

◊ If you ever responded/reacted to something that normal human beings usually respond differently, Rantaro would definitely notice, but he wouldn't say anything until he had his suspicions confirmed — and until someone else decided to get pissy or upset about it.

◊ If you ever get into a conflict with someone about how you seem emotionless( even though you're really not ), Rantaro will always be there to defend you and back you up. The first thing he would do is try to understand your side, then their side, and then try to see how the two fit together, and how you both grew to have your reaction.

◊ Most conflicts and arguments end peacefully, at fault to Rantaro's experience of being exposed to many personality types(his sisters), and completely normal and human struggles(also his sisters).

◊ Though, notice how I said most.

◊ Some situations and arguments, really can't be resolved, nor looked past—especially when personal, and very strong feelings are involved. You really can't avoid it when people are still grieving.

◊ But even so, Rantaro will remain a mediator and a peace-keeper until the end; he doesn't and never has enjoyed violence or super over-the-line arguments.

— "N- no, I a- actually don't understand...! I didn't mean to-"

"Oh, shut up! No one's believing that crap!" The shock and the hurt from their words had visibly affected you — the disbelief and their rage hadn't done anything to calm your anxiety from not having understood what had been wrong.

Rantaro would intrude on the one-sided argument, a gentle yet nervous smile on his face as he tried to put some distance between you and the person who had gotten offended. "Hey now, I understand you're upset, but it'll be safer for all of us if you don't insult them. I'm sure this was just a big misunderstanding... let's sit down, yeah?"

◊ If you ever feel frustrated or upset about a past interaction with someone he had reacted in a way you hadn't expected, feel free to expect Rantaro to be there for you with his comfort. Whether it be assurances, hugs, or just a listening ear; he'll be there for you.

◊ He may not understand your struggles to an extreme extent, but he will try his best to empathize with you and to understand you; and if he doesn't? That's okay. Because he still has cuddles + listening to you rant as his plan B solution on getting your frustrations out.

Kokichi Ouma

◊ Kokichi... doesn't understand you at all.

◊ It's second nature to him to react abnormally or to over-exaggerate towards something that probably shouldn't have gained a reaction like that — but that doesn't necessarily mean that had been his true reaction from the start.

◊ They're lies, well, most of it.

◊ When Kokichi notices your confusion, or if you come to him about your frustrations; he won't believe you at first. It's a stupid thing to not trust someone about, yeah, but he lies all the time about this kind of thing — so not only would he feel terrible if you were telling the truth about your real struggle, he would-

◊ Oh, you're telling the truth?

◊ ... Oh.

◊ Well, of course, he feels horrible for his past faked reactions and lies. A part of him believes it to be his fault entirely, whilst the larger, louder part of him believes it to be someone else's fault.

◊ And he's a liar; so of course, he'll lie. To himself, at least.

◊ "Wha—!? Who's been confusing my beloved? Gimme names and I'll get 'em!"

◊ He's not much of a listener, nor a person who really just... talks about serious shit. So despite not wanting to talk directly about serious things, as well as not being the best at comforting you in a 'serious' manner, he has his own little way of dimming your frustrations with human beings.

◊ He won't show it, nor will he mention it, but he does try to be more transparent with you; as well as tries to be less confusing when talking and/or interacting with you.

◊ The reactions are dimmed down, and despite that, he still continues to be silly and still continues to joke around — just not in a way that'll frustrate or confuse you(ish). He's all about getting reactions out of you, especially frustration but, he wouldn't purposely augment your anxiety about this type of thing.

◊ ^^ If he was to do that, however, he would always tell you it was a lie afterwards. After all— despite enjoying the thought of you thinking of him all week—he doesn't want you stressing and/or overthinking about it for the rest of the week.

◊ Kokichi definitely feels guilty of your struggles, however, they may have not blossomed directly from him, he still feels horrible for triggering it? You? — look- what he's trying to say is, he feels awful, and he hadn't meant to make your struggle with understanding other human beings, worse.

◊ Though there are times he does find your confusion and gullibility to be sort of entertaining in a way, but he would constantly feel bad about finding pleasure in your frustration.

◊ Kind of bad.

— "Nishishi! I'm just saying, if someone took a fat shit on my lawn, I would thank them—"

"Wh- Seriously.. ? Why??"

◊ He finds it hilarious how you seem to take his words to heart, but of course, fun comes to an end as he says—

— "Nope! It's a lie!"

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stardustprompts · 3 years

Text

the poppy war - r.f kuang sentence starters change tenses/pronouns as needed !! some lines have been edited for clarity / length / ease of roleplaying tw : drugs , death , murder , nsfw , prostitution mention , language

‘take off your clothes.’

‘why would anyone drug themselves before a test?’

‘you’re about to be a very lucky girl, sweet.’

‘wow that’s great. really great. Terrific.’

‘your folks are assholes.’

‘well fuck the heavenly order of things.’

‘don’t you have actual responsibilities?’

‘I don’t want to get on _____ ‘s bad side.’

‘you would make a terrible prostitute. no charm.’

‘what is so wrong with getting married?’

‘do you want to die?’

‘everything is spilling out of my head as quickly as I put it in.’

‘please do not commit spousal homicide.’

‘give me a way out of this shithole.’

‘hello, I’m praying.’

‘I seduced him with my nubile young body. you caught me.’

‘you can’t scare me into a confession, because I’m telling the truth.’

‘and that means you’re shit at your job.’

‘if you cross them—- if they even think you’ve looked at them funny—- they can and will hurt you.’

‘it’s easy to lose a language when you never speak it.’

‘you’re offending them with your very presence.’

‘they’ll make you an outsider, because you’re not like them.’

‘no matter what they say, you deserve to be here.’

‘I’ll kill you. I will fucking kill you.’

‘I went out in the sun once. you should try it sometime.’

‘oh, you’re the one ____ hates.’

‘you’d be a prick too if your family was both rich and attractive.’

‘honestly? I think he just comes in here to get high.’

‘I think you’re flattering yourself.’

‘unless you’ve got a weapon, don’t aim for the face. the neck’s a better target.’

‘we aren’t here to be sophisticated. we’re here to fuck people up.’

‘this is the only kick you’ll ever need, really. a kick to bring down the most powerful warriors.’

‘power dictates acceptability.’

‘he hasn’t done anything to earn my respect. all he’s done is act high and mighty.’

‘you’re nothing. you shouldn’t even be here.’

‘consider me bullied and intimidated, just let me sleep.’

‘he’s playing with her. he’ll end it soon.’

‘they’re good at fighting, but not much else.’

‘spend a lot of time looking at ____’s eyes do you?’

‘a betrayal of that sort would not have been out of character.’

‘come on, you belong here too.’

‘they’re not going to get rid of me like this. not this easily.’

‘I’m calm! I’m extremely calm!’

‘you’d rather kill your own people than let the opponent’s army walk away?’

‘you don’t let an enemy walk away if they’ll certainly be a threat to you later.’

‘he can’t stop raving about you.’

‘oh, don’t pretend to be bashful. you love it.’

‘you’re a walking disaster.’

‘anyone this obstinate deserves some attention, if only to make sure you don’t become a walking hazard to everyone around you.’

‘I heard he got drunk on rice wine last week and pissed into ____’s window. he sounds awesome.’

‘it’s me, your favorite person in the whole wide world.’

‘I do not have a problem. you are making up this problem for reasons unbeknownst to me.’

‘you’re killing the mood.’

‘they were weak as shit. scrawnier than you, even.’

‘you’re a real asshole. you know that right?’

‘your state of mind is just as important as the state of your body.’

‘sometimes you must loose the string to let the arrow fly.’

‘because I want to break his stupid face.’

‘he’s the most dangerous when he’s desperate.’

‘from this point on you’re just going to be a danger to yourself and everyone around you.’

‘you’re too reckless. you hold grudges, you cultivate your rage and let it explode, and you’re careless about what you’re taught.’

‘I knew I was the only one that could help him.’

‘they honed his rage like a weapon, instead of teaching him to control it.’

‘one urinating statue for my easily entertained friend.’

‘I don’t believe in gods. but I believe in power.’

‘one might say you’ve been obsessed with ____.’

‘don’t look to your left. pretend you’re taking to me.’ / ‘I am talking to you.’

‘we’re studying very weird things.’

‘I don’t actually know what I’m getting into.’

‘here is what happened: you called a god, and the god answered.’

‘you know that if you don’t get answers now, the hunger will consume you and your mind will crack.’

‘you’ve glimpsed the other side and you can’t rest until you fill in the blanks.’

‘supernatural is a word for anything that doesn’t fit your present understanding of the world.’

‘I’m supposed to take it as true that you’re a god?’

‘I’m not a god. I am a mortal who has woken up, and there is power in awareness.’

‘are we getting high? oh, wow. we’re getting high.’

‘ah. the law. so inconvenient. so irrelevant.’

‘we are not madmen. but how can we convince anyone of this, when the rest of the world believes it so?’

‘the price of power is pain.’

‘I understand the truth of things. I know what it means to exist.’

‘prey do not question the motives of the predator. the dead do not question the living. mortals do not challenge the gods.’

‘I killed for you. I would have done anything for you.’

‘I have seen the end of things. the shape of the world has changed.’

‘war doesn’t determine who’s right. war determines who remains.’

‘it’s alright. I know what you are.’

‘I thought I was the only one left.’

‘we have developed the power to rewrite the fabric of this world. if we don’t use it, then what’s the point?’

‘I don’t mess with that shit. it screws you up.’

‘I understand the appeal, I really do, but I like having my mind to myself.’

‘he’s a charmer. like a new puppy. you think he’s adorable until he pisses on the furniture.’

‘there’s no routine. no discipline. nothing you’re used to. am I right?’

‘so you’re the last of your kind. that’s sad.’

‘If you hold the fate of the country in your hands, if you have accepted your obligation to your people, then your life ceases to be your own.’

‘____ feared, and so he held you back.’

‘great danger is always associated with great power. the difference between the great and the mediocre is that the great are willing to take that risk.’

‘don’t ever let go on that anger. rage gives you power. caution does not.’

‘don’t give in... you’ve been so brave... but it takes more bravery to resist the power.’

‘the nature of this god is to destroy. the nature of this god is to be greedy, to never be satisfied with what he has consumed.’

‘so. screaming at rocks. is that, like, normal behavior here?’

‘fix this. prove your worth. do your fucking job or get out.’

‘I saved your life. doesn’t that make us at least a little square?!’

‘I was scared of you. and I lashed out.’

‘I thought I was better than you, and I’m not. I’m sorry.’

‘when I killed it, it felt like murder.’

‘look, I’m happy to discuss this, really, but I’m currently leaking life out three different wounds and I think I may pass out. would you give me a moment?’

‘well maybe ____ should get his head out of his ass.’

‘ ____ is more fragile than you think.’

‘look, asshole, I don’t need you to tell me what to do.’

‘they say he can read the future. shatter minds.’

‘you misunderstand the nature of our relationship. I am not your friend.’

‘he’s not human. he—- I don’t know what he is.’

‘but ___ was never allowed to be human.’

‘do you trust me?’ / ‘no. but that’s irrelevant.’

‘you don’t know what true suffering is.’

‘I have seen more than my fair share of suffering.’

‘that boy is beyond redemption. that boy is broken like the rest.’

‘I don’t want to be saved! I want power!’

‘that power will destroy everything you’ve ever loved. you will defeat your enemy, and the victory will turn to ashes in your mouth.’

‘we’ve missed something. something’s been laid out for us, but we can’t see it.’

‘fretting won’t make the dead come back to life.’

‘there was nothing human in those eyes.’

‘It was a nightmare, and I couldn’t wake up.’

‘I don’t need your pity. I need you to kill them for me.’

‘whatever it takes. swear it on your life. swear it for me.’

‘I won’t judge him. I don’t dare, because I don’t have the right. and neither do you.’

‘you asked me why I wouldn’t stop him. now you understand. you can’t stop an avenger. you can’t reason with a madman.’

‘I am afraid of what he might do in his quest for vengeance. and I am afraid that he is right.’

‘I am about to do something terrible. and you will have a choice.’

‘they give nothing to the universe, and the universe owes them nothing in return.’

‘you cannot survive my death.’

‘you’re trying to deceive me. you don’t get to deceive me.’

‘this is not the way. this path leads only to darkness.’

‘when are you going to stop being such a damn coward? what are you running from?’

‘you will turn the world to ash, and only demons will live in the rubble.’

‘you dress up your crusade with moral arguments, when in truth you would let millions die if it means you get your so-called justice.’

‘you have not cared about anything for a very long time. you are broken.’

‘I am terrified. but only because I’m starting to remember who I once was. don’t go down that path.’

‘your country is ash. you can’t bring it back with blood.’

‘I’m so sorry. I tried to warn you.’

‘you know the worst part? we’re so close to home.’

‘did you miss me? did you miss this?’

‘I just gave him some of his favorite medicine.’

‘resistance here means suffering. there is no escape. no future.’

‘you have nothing to fight for anymore’

‘what are you defending? you owe ____ nothing.’

‘we were disposable. we were tools. tell me that doesn’t make you furious.’

‘I am sick with fury.’

‘I will die on my feet. I will not die a coward. and neither will you.’

‘we could stay here. we could stay here forever. we wouldn’t have to go back.’

‘you’ll have to live with the consequences. but you’re brave ... you’re the bravest person I’ve ever met.’

‘I have lost everything I care about. I don’t want peace, I want revenge.’

‘I don’t need to sleep. I need to feel nothing.’

‘do you want forgiveness? I can’t give you that.’

‘we avenged him. he’s gone, but avenged.’

‘you have to believe that it was necessary. that it stopped something worse. and even if it wasn’t, it’s the lie we’ll tell ourselves, starting today and every day afterward.’

‘aren’t you supposed to be a seer? do you ever see anything useful?’

‘we have an enemy whom we love.’

‘I’m going to find and kill everyone responsible. you cannot stop me.’

‘oh I’m not going to stop you.’

#rp prompts #literature prompts #literature sentence starters #sentence starters #rp meme #rp sentence starters #the poppy war sentence starters #the poppy war prompt #the poppy war meme

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forcebewitht · 3 years

Text

The Loving Curse Of A Wicked, Beautiful Queen Of Mean (Overblot!Vil Schoenheit X Reader)

(Fanart Link: https://twitter.com/mtzk00/status/1349799061218488322?s=19)

A sigh was all too quick to escape your lips as you observed the spectacle that was going on. You had been receiving bad vibes from Vil here and there for quite a bit now- and it was finally time. You just knew. Grim and yourself decided to hide behind a corner to spy on Vil. His body was honestly rather rigid...yet loose as he walked. Like a doll that had learned to walk and was preparing to swing out a long, thin arm at any moment. Vil delivered some swift knocks to Neige's door within the hallway of the backstage area of the arena currently being used for the VDC. You were quick to shush Grim and peer around the corner. Vil's expression was…void. Utterly barren of any and all emotion, as though the great star was finally beginning to dim out. Neige soon opened the door, and an exchange between the two was given. Vil had tried giving Neige some apple juice as a "gift"....that is, until Rook strided in on the scene. The sound of Rook calling Neige's name down the hall sent a shock through Grim, Vil, and even Neige himself. You noted that Vil's eyes grew a bit too large, a bead of sweat running down his forehead. "NEIGE!" Rook was quick to stride over. The gentle, sweet boy named Neige soon turned his head to Rook as he walked over. Rook smiled a bit at Neige as he approached, a faint dazzle being seen in his eyes simply by looking at the boy. "I am sorry to disturb you. One of the staff members is looking for you- they wished to ask you something about the performance. Roi Du Neige….-ah. I mean Neige." Neige peered curiously at Rook. He allowed his head to angle to the side, his skin as pale and precious as snow and his hair as black as the night sky itself. "Roi Du….the way you speak…..are you, perhaps…?" Rook suddenly was very quick to exclaim after Neige's odd observation. "A-AH! I apologize, I just simply am so thirsty after searching for you for such a long time! Ah…but that apple juice you are holding looks delicious. Care to help me out a bit and give it to me, Ro- ahem. Neige? Please?" Neige blinked numerous times, already handing the juice over as humbly asked. "Y-yes, of course! Not a problem at all! Here you go." You notice Vil's posture go even more rigid at the sight of this event. His eyes grew just a bit larger, and you could have sworn that you heard a suppressed grunt. Your eyebrows furrow. He…..he looked like a schemer who had just been caught...nay….a murderer who had just been caught in the act.

Rook beamed out a dazzling smile to Neige, now continuing on with the juice bottle in his gloved hands. "Ah….thank you, Neige. Now, run along to the stage. And….don't come back again." The sudden shift in Rook's tone took you a bit off guard, now watching him a bit more closely. Neige seemed just as confused, for he bats his eyelashes faintly, his already precious, large doe-like eyes widening just a bit. "...Eh? What do you m-mean by that…" After Neige's delayed question, Rook's body seemed to seize up. He suddenly shouted a bit right at the boy, and you could see his eyebrows furrowing under his bangs. "GO, NOW- HURRY UP!" Neige was quick to listen to the instructions and take off in a sudden sprint. Vil's eyes were locked on Neige as he ran away, now slowly fluttering over to Rook. His lavender eyes squint at his Vice Dorm Leader, the star seeming to back up a bit. "Rook….why…" The Vice, however, did not listen. He seemed to be sniffing the bottle's contents with a content smile, his emerald eyes shutting promptly. "Mmmmm~....what a fresh scent. I simply smelled this alluring beverage for a mere moment, and a delicious, prime, red apple just appeared within my very mind. This product from Epel's hometown is really wonderful!" Rook's eyes soon snapped open, the Vice locking eyes with Vil. He seemed to smile, but a dim in his eyes was evident as well. His tone suddenly became more dry yet heightened, as though a mere zombie under the whims and gaze of the Schoenheit male. "I'll drink all of this without sparing a single drop….Roi Du Poison…" Rook began to tilt the bottle up to his lips. Vil seemed to panic, his eyes widening even more as he rose a hand and backed up some more. You and Grim almost ran out, yet the voice of another stopped you both in your tracks- it was Kalim! "ROOOOOOOOOOOOOOK! STOOOOOOOOOPPPPPPP- NO!" The leader of the Scarabia Dorm suddenly dashed over to Rook with an intense speed. His hand flew out and was quick to smack the bottle out of Rook's hand entirely. The contents splashed onto the nearby wall. Rook backed up in shock, now locking his confused gaze onto Kalim. "Roi D'or?! What are you doing here?! Wait...Grim and [Y/n] are here, too!" You and Grim ran over and stopped before the small group. Grim was the first one to speak, his bright blue eyes widened. "Kalim, did you just smack that bottle that Rook was holding?! Why?!" You were quick to fold your arms over your chest and straighten, staring at Kalim's freakishly serious expression. "He would not have done so without a good reason." Kalim was currently out of breath, gasping for air. "Ah...haaaa…..I made it in time!" Vil's eyes widened evermore, now taking yet another step back. "What….are you….doing…?" Suddenly, an odd squelching sound was heard from the wall where the juice had shattered and splashed. The contents of the juice began to both darken and thicken considerably, the juice itself now a deep, sickly green shade. Your eyes widened as you almost immediately were able to lock onto what was going on thanks to your dreams- it was poison! Grim soon expressed his concerns with the juice's appearance while Kalim turned his head to Vil. Even still, the normally bright boy looked utterly serious. "...Vil. This is the juice that you put a curse on with your Unique Magic, right? I had a bad sensation that something was going to happen concerning you….when I saw your expression whilst watching Neige's rehearsal performance." Kalim's voice deepened a bit, now allowing his eyes to faintly squint at Vil from his current position. "....It is the same expression Jamil had on his face before he Overblotted during the holidays." You turn your head to look at Vil- and freeze. He had locked his gaze right back onto Kalim...there it was again. A bone-chilling, void, utterly vicious stare. His body seemed stiff as his arms rested at his sides. He didn't even look to be breathing, a shadow now being cast over his eyes. This soon changed slightly as he turned his head to Rook. "....Rook. Why did you want to drink the juice? You should know better than anyone….that you would not have remained alive if you drank it." You and Grim shared a worried look- so he was going to murder Neige! Rook blinked a few times at the question, soon giving his answer with the utmost confidence and grace. "I wanted to believe you. The star that has been shining and streaking so far across the sky to reach the top. I believed that you would never commit such a crime and hinder your precious beauty...but. At the same time, if your precious magic and hands had crafted such a wicked tool of vengeance to smite your opponent...I wished to taste it only once. The taste of your poisonous fruits of your obsession for beauty!" Vil backed up a bit more, the sweat running down his forehead once more. Kalim was quick to retort, now worried himself. "What are you talking about, Rook?! I will not let that happen! Hey, Vil! Do you understand how stupid your actions were?! Let's show the other team a performance that will make them feel like worthless potatoes in a sack...Didn't you say we have to win the contest with our show-stopping performance?! Why?! Why would you try to kill Neige just to succeed?!" Vil's expression had shifted back to the blank one as Kalim spoke. Suddenly, upon the last few lines, he began to chuckle. "Heh...heheh…I wish to know the answers myself. But...I have come to realize….THAT I WON'T BE ABLE TO WIN AGAINST HIM! That's w-why I...i wanted to end his life...by my own hands!" Vil's voice trembled and shook with raw power and rage as he boomed out his reply throughout the halls. You gasped as you felt a sudden, odd shift in the air. The poisonous juice upon the ground was beginning to shift into a deeply purple appearance, now. A smoke began to build up from it, already beginning to restrict the proper patterns of breathing from the members of your little team. Kalim began to cough, closing his eyes as Rook warned everyone not to inhale it. "[Y/n], Kalim, Grim! Do not inhale it! This is Vil's Unique Magic- Fairest One Of All! He can put a curse onto any object. That poisonous juice has now been transformed into this restricting mist! If we breathe in a certain amount, our bodies will become paralyzed within an instant! But….one bottle of this could not have turned into this mess….unless….no!" Vil began to back up even more. His eyes widened, tears pricking at his eyes. "D-don't look at me like t-that...STOP LOOKING AT ME LIKE THAT! Why….I wanted to become the most beautiful being in the world...but...why am I so...ugly...ugly….UGLY!"

Rook and Kalim began to jump to Vil's defense and say that he didn't kill anyone...but you could already feel the truth of what he was feeling. Vil had acted….like a villain. He was going to murder someone just like one. Your expression was quick to morph into one of raw pity, now watching Vil with a worried expression. He looked so panicked. Like a little boy who had lost his mother within a candy store, or a deer caught in headlights. The male's voice suddenly trembled at Kalim's declaration and boomed out again. "SHUT UP! WHAT DO YOU KNOW ABOUT ME?!" Your group began to panic, now watching the juice bubble and fizz into more mist. Vil let out a bone-chilling, deeply crazed laugh of triumph at the sheer fear. "AHAHAHAHAHHA! T-that's right! That's what I want! If everyone else around me becomes ugly….finally...finally….I CAN BECOME THE FAIREST ONE OF ALL!" The air around Vil began to shift. He beamed out a devilish smile. You stumbled backwards- and that was your mistake. Vil's head was quick to whip over to you and lock on. His eyes dazzled as he stared at you. Oh, [Y/n]. Sweet, sweet little [Y/n]. He had to admit, he actually had so deeply wished to allow you to be on his team and not be shunned to the sidelines with that pest of a monster. And yet, you counted as one student. Thus, if he let you in, Grim would have to come along with you. Oh, how he despised that little rule. Vil got a good look at you, his head tilting to the side. My, my...even with that fear, the darling had a certain grace about them that was almost too rich for Vil to ignore. His lips perked up into an even bigger grin. He began to stalk forward, you feeling your legs begin to shake from the sheer intensity of his stare. And just like that...the boy began to sing out a declaration of his own. "I'm so tired of pretending….where's my happy ending? I followed all the rules, I drew inside the lines...I never asked for anything that wasn't mine. I waited patiently for my time...but when it finally came….they called his name. And now, I feel this overwhelming pain! I mean, it's in my veins! I mean, it's in my brain! My thoughts are running in a circle like a toy train...I'm kind of like a perfect picture with a broken frame...and I know exactly who to blame." Vil began to stalk towards you, stepping over his own juice as Kalim and Rook began to cough even further. They began to attempt to fire spells at him to keep him back, but it was useless. He was utterly transfixed on you, now. "I never thought of myself as mean...I always thought I'd be like the Queen! And there's NO INBETWEEN! 'Cause if I can't have that? Then I shall be the leader of the dark and the bad….now there's a devil on my shoulder where the angels used to be….and they're calling me the Queen.." You began to backtrack a bit further. Vil was quick to suddenly grab you by the arm, now slowly dragging you towards him. You fought and struggled against his vice grip, your eyes wide in confusion and sheer panic. Grim got riled up and began firing more fire spells- but Vil's mist seemed to dissipate most of them. Vil smiled down at you with a bright grin that could make even the toughest of people's blood run cold. "Being nice was my pastime...but I've been hurt for the last time...and I won't ever let another person take advantage of me- the anger burns my skin, third degree. Now my blood's boiling hotter than a fiery sea! There's nobody getting close to me! They're gonna bow to their Evil Queen! Their nightmares are my dreams! Just wait until they fall to my wicked schemes~" Right as Vil had gone to caress your cheek, you were able to jerk yourself from his grip. You stumbled back into the wall, now slowly backing up with the still sputtering Kalim, Grim, and Rook. Vil just smiled even brighter. "I never thought of myself as mean...I always thought that I'd be the Queen! And there's NO INBETWEEN! 'Cause if I can't have that? I would be the leader of the dark and the bad. Now, there's a devil on my shoulder where the angels used to be...and he's calling me...the Queen of Mean….the Queen of Mean!" Vil's head suddenly snapped over to the shattered apple juice bottle, as though he heard a voice. He slowly bent down and picked up a shard that had an apple on the front of it with part of Epel's family name. "The Queen of Mean…." His head slowly craned up, that blank stare back once more. Then, his lavender gaze trailed back to you. He slowly began to stalk forward once more, his head tilting. "Something is pulling me….it's so magnetic. My body is moving...unsure of where I am headed...all of my senses have left me defenseless...this darkness around me is promising vengeance. The price that I'm willing to pay is expensive- there's nothing to lose when you're ugly and friendless. So...my only interest...is showing that 'princess'...THAT I AM THE QUEEN AND MY REIGN WILL BE ENDLESS!"

The mist whipped around your group and knocked Kalim, Rook, and Grim back into the nearby wall. The poisonous substance along with some ink whipped around Vil's form. You gasped, watching the transformation take place. Vil had now Overblotted. He beamed out an even larger smile than before, raising his hands which displayed long, flowing, dark pieces of fabric that attached to the rest of his form. His right eye erupted in a deep purple, fiery glow, a veil upon his head. He looked...wickedly beautiful. Vil's hands raised as his eyes widened, the sheer power that was now coming off of him in waves utterly taking your breath away. "I WANT WHAT I DESERVE! I WANT TO RULE THE WORLD! SIT BACK AND WATCH THEM LEARN! IT'S FINALLY MY TURN!" Suddenly, the whipping of a carpet's tassels in the wind combated with a shouting voice cut through the air- it was Jamil! "EVERYONE, QUICKLY, HOP ON!" Kalim's gaze lit up at his Vice Dorm Head, and he did not hesitate to get on. Rook followed, then Grim. Right when you were about to join- a hand with sharp, claw-like nails curled around your top and yanked you back a bit. Vil made extra careful care with you to ensure that you did not puncture yourself upon the oddly sharp, jagged knive-like belt around his waist. The others began to cry out to you, but you soon locked eyes with Jamil. The boy stiffened, taking heed in your current gaze...and he understood. He was quick to get the flying carpet out of there. You were far more cunning than you looked. You could handle this. Vil seemed to laugh in his triumph, now allowing his hands to trail down your waist and watch the group go... they could wait. "If they want a villain for a queen...I'm gonna be one like they've never seen. I'll SHOW THEM WHAT IT MEANS! HAHA! Now that I am that! I shall be the ruler of the dark and the bad…'cause the devil's on my shoulder where the angels used to be...and he's calling me~" Vil pulled you even closer to him, gently arching your back a bit so that you would not injure yourself upon the belt on his form. He began to trail kisses along your neck in a sickly sweet manner, taking his prize for his wickedness. He chuckled at the feeling of your soft skin against his lips, keeping the motions up. Soon, Vil gently pulled away and spun you around to face him. You felt as though you could shrink under that gaze. "The Queen of Mean….the Queen of Mean…..I WANT WHAT I DESERVE!" Vil's lips suddenly smashed upon your own as he yanked you closer to him. Right as he did so, a crackle of lightning seemed to rumble and shake the grounds of the very stadium, a sudden burst of that mist shooting out past the two of you. Your eyes widened as he kissed your lips, his lips irresistibly smooth, soft, and plump. And funny enough...his lips tasted like apples. Perhaps this was his own, personal poison...the loving curse of a wicked, beautiful queen of mean.

((Hello hello, my lovely Readers! The day has finally arrived, as this fanfiction has! Rook, Kalim, Neige, and Vil were honestly a welcome surprise to write for! I hope everyone enjoyed this, and I shall see you in the next one~ <3

#vil schoenheit #vil x reader #vil schoenheit x reader #disney twisted wonderland #twistedwonderland #twisted wonderland #twst vil #overblot vil #overblot vil x reader #twisted wonderland x reader

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i-make-fun-of-spn-characters · 3 years

Note

I feel like you've given most spn related things some lil spice but I always love the spice on this : hot spicy take on the "Dean is the most horrible character and ruins everyone's life and Sam and Cas are poor little meow meows who only do bad things sometimes because tyran Dean farted in their direction" takes that are not really only said by anti-Dean peeps ? Obsessed with that incredible thesis and would love the added spice ❤

SPICY HOT HOT GHOST PEPPERS CAROLINA REAPERS HELP I'M BURNING

I really try to respect other people’s opinions, and I believe there are a wealth of ways to interpret a story, and I think that’s a deeply beautiful thing. This applies to interpretations I don't agree with and outright dislike as well. That said, some opinions are simply and objectively bad, dishonest, and/or demonstrably false, and I truly do not believe you can sit down and honestly watch through the show with an open mind about all the characters, truly pay attention to what they do, say, and believe, and come to the conclusion that this show is about an evil manipulative abusive man terrorizing his pure and sinless brother and friend. It is an interpretation built from cherry picking facts to suit an ugly, miserable theory, making Mount Everest out of a bunch of the tiny mole hills, making the worst possible presumptions of feelings and intentions, and holding characters to completely different standards in order to neatly divide them into "abused" and "abuser" in a way that, frankly, fetishizes the abused person. I despise this interpretation of the story with every fiber of my being, and I have absolutely no respect for the opinion of anyone who peddles it, regardless of who they cast as villain/victim (because people have also done this with the others—it’s just more “popular” to do it with Dean... I mean... does anyone else remember how people were shitting on Sam after his emotional reaction in 14.12? Calling him an evil abuser? Because I do).

The thing that always gets me about this take isn't just how dishonest, unfair, mean-spirited, and compassionless it is in its treatment of Dean’s feelings, circumstances, and intentions... but how deeply reductive and offensive it is toward Sam and Castiel, sucking away their identities to turn them into effigies to mourn for their sad, Stockholm syndrome-esque attachment to their "abuser". Further, it grips the heart of the show—the relationship between Sam and Dean, and then the relationship among TFW as a whole—in a tight, uncompromising fist and pulverizes it. It literally rips out the heart of the show (the RELATIONSHIPS) and replaces it with something unprepossessing of any merit: A miserable, 15 years long story about a malicious abuser getting away with terrorizing those closest to him for his entire life, while his poor abuse victims suffer through until they die for him/happy to be reunited with him because they “don’t know any better” and never ever learned better, I guess. What a stupid, sad sack of a story.

Castiel is a thousands of years old celestial being who has literally beaten Dean into the pavement under no form of mind control, and has shown over and over again that he will do whatever the hell he wants, regardless of whatever Dean thinks about being sidelined. If he thinks whatever he is doing is in Dean's best interest, he literally does not care how Dean feels about it. He will nod and smile and then fly off and swallow thousands of souls with Dean begging him not to, shove Dean out of the way to attack the big bad, leave Dean alone in Purgatory, refuse to come out of Purgatory so he can self-flagellate, fly off with the angel tablet, help Sam with the Book of the Damned, let Lucifer possess him without anyone's knowledge or agreement, come into Dean's room under the guise of apologizing for ghosting him so that he can steal The Colt out from under his pillow and murder someone, decide not to murder that person and still prevent Sam and Dean from helping by knocking them both unconscious, get himself killed, make a deal to trade his life for Jack's and never tell anyone, hide information and worries and ignore phone calls, ghost Sam and Dean, and bicker and fight with Dean as if they are a married couple. Love sickness and feelings of worthlessness (which Cas has a wealth of reasons to feel—many of which aren’t even related to Dean but to his heavenly family) are reinterpreted as the result of some sort of constant, terrorizing emotional abuse. Power and authority that Dean does not actually have is forced into his hands by these fans. Maybe listen when Cas says, “Hey—not everything is your fault.” Maybe listen when he says “I loved the whole world because of you”, calls Dean a role model, says he enjoys their conversations, offers to die with him and dies for him multiple times. Maybe treat these feelings as genuine and valid and HIS and not as the delusions of some poor manipulated baby.

Sam is framed this way even more often than Cas, and it's a damn shame, because what I typically see is this: Sam’s development into a mediator and peacemaker is twisted and reinterpreted as coming from a place of weakness and/or fear. Rationality, maturity, wisdom, and compassion are not the traits of a scared, powerless child. They are the traits of a mature adult, who has been beaten down by life, and fought and raged against his circumstances, and somehow come out of it with more kindness and understanding and strength instead of less. He has made his own decisions whenever it was possible, within the set of circumstances doled out to him. From telling his dad to go fuck himself and going to college, to getting back into hunting to avenge Jess (NOT because of Dean—Dean took him home without complaint at the end of the woman in white case), to continuing to hunt after their father died because he wanted to feel close to him (Dean was actually weirded out and sort of disgusted by this), raging and fighting to save Dean from his deal against Dean’s wishes, continuing to hunt and working with Ruby (directly against Dean’s dying wish), drinking demon blood, jumping in the cage, leaving hunting to go be with Amelia, coming back to hunting to save Kevin, fighting with Dean over what he had with Amelia and threatening to leave if Dean didn't shut his mouth, leaving Amelia to go back to hunting (Dean ultimately suggests he go back to her—Sam chooses to stay), trying to kill Benny, demanding to be the one to do The Trials and saying he is going to SURVIVE them—that being the ENTIRE POINT, losing that resolve in a fit of depression but choosing to drop the knife, demanding space from Dean (and being given it), fighting to save Demon Dean who didn’t want to be found or saved, using the Book of the Damned against Dean’s wishes, telling Charlie that this is what he wants—that he used to want normal but now all he wants is to hunt with Dean and that he doesn’t know what he’ll do if he can’t have that, unleashing the Darkness in his desperation to keep Dean with him and even saying, “I would do it again” in the aftermath, saving the town being destroyed by Amara, getting into The Cage with Lucifer, leading a team against the British Men of Letters, nurturing Jack, punching Dean in the face when he was going to sacrifice himself, leading more hunters, wielding a gun against Chuck... and that’s just some highlights. Sam Fucking Winchester does not need your bullshit about him being some sad, scared, helpless baby lorded over by mean old Dean who has never let him do anything he wants.

Yes, in the text itself, there is jealousy and resentment at times, and there is legitimate and righteous anger on Sam’s part on a few occasions. There is blame cast on Dean by Sam for some of these choices/circumstances. Some of those moments where Dean is blamed are legitimate, and some of them... frankly, are not. Within the framework of the fucked up dynamics of the way they were raised, Sam and some fans bristle when they feel Dean is casting himself as the parent he is not, but Sam also has been guilty in the past of trying to reframe himself as Dean’s child when things got tough. Neither of them is responsible for the origin of that dynamic, but they BOTH have responsibility to change it, and they both, ultimately, succeed in doing so. For Sam, his part comes in recognizing and learning to fully own his own choices. Recognizing that he is not a child, and he is certainly not Dean’s child, and it isn’t just “Mummy—loosen the grip”, but Sam has to too—not claim independence only to blame Dean for his choices when his own decisions have an ultimate outcome he is unhappy with. That is a legitimate arc that Sam goes through imo, but he comes out the other side of it, and he and Dean relate to each other much better as peers from then on—and I’d like to note that throughout the entire series, when they don’t relate as perfect peers and teammates, it isn’t always Dean “bossing Sam around”, but Sam also trying to sideline Dean and yes—boss him around. And when they lied and hurt each other and yes, even manipulated each other, Dean most certainly wasn't always the one doing the lying and hurting and manipulating. Always, always, ALWAYS, they both had an understandable point of view, and it was complex, and you could understand why they made the choices they did, even if you thought of those choices as being wrong ones.

I also would like to point out (because this is basically what I see all of the time) that Dean being hurt by someone or simply voicing his feelings or opinion is in no way abusive or manipulative. Dean is certainly charismatic and loved and his returning love and respect is often deeply desired, but he is not an actual siren, who bends people to his will simply by speaking or being. People are, in fact, able to tell him “no”, and frequently FREQUENTLY do. Further more, no one is owed his affection, his unwavering loyalty, or his trust. He has a right to his boundaries, regardless of if it makes some poor sad sap feel deprived of the “wellspring of coveted love” while he works through things. He can be hurt and angry, and he can wear his heart on his sleeve at times, and he can be flawed, and broken. [Insert Castiel's speech from 15.18 here]. So can Sam. So can Cas. None of them are manipulating each other by virtue of getting angry, feeling hurt, being traumatized, needing space, or having differing opinions or feelings. Sam didn’t punch Dean in the face in 14.12 because he's a cruel, manipulative abuser trying to force Dean under his thumb. He didn’t work behind Dean’s back with Ruby, insist on doing The Trials, beg Dean to use Doc Benton’s alchemy, use the Book of the Damned to cure Dean, pump him full of blood to cure him of being a demon despite the fact that it might kill him, or scream at him and fight him for wanting to get in the Ma’lak box because he “doesn’t respect his autonomy” and “wants to control him” and “doesn’t respect his right to his own body”. He did it because he loves him desperately, and Dean could stand to fucking hate himself less, and he fiercely wanted Dean to live even when Dean didn’t want to or couldn’t picture what that could be like. He didn’t force Dean to do anything simply by opening his mouth to voice disagreement and swaying Dean when he did so. Now reverse that.

Cas didn't beat Dean into the ground in season 5 because he wanted to terrorize him into never going against Castiel ever again. He didn’t go behind his back dozens of times, sideline him, go MIA, all because he wanted to manipulate and control Dean and punish him. He didn’t throw sassy remarks at him to shatter his self-esteem. Now reverse that.

*Breathes*

Anyway, fuck "X is abusive” interpretations.

#being serious for 5 seconds #RANTING RANTING RANTING #spicy spicy ghost pepper extract #mail

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incorrect-ikevamp-quotes · 3 years

Note

im not very sure if you're doing abcs for the trio but if u do could u pls maybe do C N O and S for vlad? <3

No worries! I don't see why not, my knowledge is just a little more limited for them is all~

Hope you enjoy these, lovely! ❤️❤️❤️❤️

Aight y’all it’s time for me to put on my clown shoes as god intended

Though man, what a delightfully rainy day today to write =v=

Fluff ABCs Template here

Cuddling -- How does he like to cuddle?

He is a simple man, with simple needs.

That being said, I think he’s one for a lot of gentle affection. Despite appearances–I mean hell, he literally wears a necklace of thorns–he’s actually a very tender lover. Loves hand-holding, scooting close under umbrellas, making shapes out of the little beauty marks that dot her skin. He will take any excuse to hold her and run with it.

Ideally, I think he prefers privacy above all else, most typically in his room in the castle. This side of him, so soft with his love for her, belongs to her and her alone. He refuses to let anyone else kill his immersion the moment (cue Charles dragging Faust away from doing something disruptive and stupid), or indulge in the sight of her so rosy-cheeked and loving. Loves dropping little kisses to the crown of her head, her shoulders, the backs of her hands. He’s waited so many long years to be able to hold her close like this, to feel the heat of her blush and the tinkle of sweet giggles when he nips and pecks at her pretty skin. All of this, every single second, is beyond value to him…he cherishes each memory close to his heart, crystallized fragments of joy in a life so bereft of it.

His favorite position for cuddling tends to be a kind of side lean. Usually she’ll be lying down (or turned towards him, sometimes) while he’s on his side beside her (usually against a wall or the back of a sofa). He loves that he can gaze at her as much as he likes this way, he really can’t get enough. The person he was searching for all this time, right here, no sign of leaving…

Nightmare -- What is his worst fear?

Oh boyo boy. Oh boy...

Honestly, I really don’t see anything horrifying him as much as losing MC. I don’t think he’s a man above fear. He hates being abandoned, he’s afraid of the world being torn apart by humanity’s indifference.

But nothing compares to the shattering fear of losing MC.

I think he has a very particular intense fear about losing loved ones because of the nature of his life history. He is still deeply affected by his entire clan being wiped out by hunters, leaving him alone to carry the weight of that legacy and loss. While he couldn’t help but give his heart to the woman who saved him, the reality of his terror is undeniable. After so many centuries of searching, after so many years of feeling hollow and alone…Even now, he has never come to terms with the way his family was ripped away from him. To know the gentleness of love again, to finally have a hand to hold only to lose it…

Well, I really can’t imagine the terrifying result of that. I imagine he would be far beyond reason.

Whenever he has bad dreams of the very same fear, he is nigh inconsolable. He holds her very tightly without saying a word (which is unlike him) and she'll know not to let him go for a while. She murmurs calming things, promises of things they'll do together in the future, strokes his hair and rubs his back. They only leave the bed when he's feeling somewhat stabilized again, but even so he'll hold her hand for longer than usual days after. Embraces her more, finds any excuse to hide away.

Oddity -- What is one quirk he has?

I think one part of him that is overlooked is that he is a man very interested in the nature of contradiction, the duality that resides in all things–himself included. Some parts of his preoccupation are more obvious than others. For instance, he loves flowers due to the nature of their ephemeral beauty, but also enjoys trying to preserve them to let their appeal survive. There’s also the fact that flowers can look or smell lovely, but can harbor poisons strong enough to kill grown human beings. (Not unlike him.)

He is a vampire in which the front-end of his operations is a cathedral, and I imagine that was a purposeful move as well. There are so many angles to consider here, namely two obvious ones that come to mind. There is the non-threatening concept of the cathedral: in which people assume it is a safe haven, a place to seek care/assistance/prayer (not entirely so in this case, even if Faust plays priest.) There’s the possibility that vampire hunters are typically supplied by/supported by the church (not sure if this is the case here, but it is a common trope). That would mean Vlad would be using the face of the very human institution that ruined his life to enact revenge, to say nothing of the potential risk of hunters seeking sanctuary only to run into a den of vampires.

There is also wondering whether or not he purposely wears that necklace of thorns ;;;;; (For anyone unaware, there was the whole Jesus wearing a crown of thorns specifically as an extension of humiliation, branding him the “fake king" of the Jewish people.) My contention here would be that he is basically saying “lmao, I’m your suffering saint now.” Or maybe he’s just really into masochistic jewelry, I have no idea.

He appears to have a kind of obsession with subverting norms/conventional expectations, and I have to wonder if it runs with his general underdog theme…

Secrets -- How open is he with her?

Despite his generally guarded nature, with MC he is entirely transparent when they’re in a relationship. Unless he doesn’t want to scare her or simply feels something would be best shared at a later time, he makes no real attempt to hide anything from her. If she asks and he knows the answer, he’ll spill.

(Okay but sometimes it gets hilarious, because say Faust has been trying for years to get info out of him about some stupidly specific thing. And Vlad is always very evasive, dances out of reach, plain ignores him. MC asks and he’s just like “oh yeah, in 1582 I remember–” It’s a wonder Faust never throws hands about it, pisses him off so much LMFAO)

Before their relationship was established he hesitated more, largely because the nature of his existence and his ties to her were a lot to take in at the time. I think he prefers not to overwhelm her whenever possible. It’s very much a kind of “I won’t info drop on you thoughtlessly, but if you ask me a question I’ll do my best to answer with the truth.”

#ikevamp #ikemen vampire #ikevamp vlad #ikevamp fluff #ikevamp headcanons #ikevamp fluff headcanons #sometimes your honor he is babie #please enjoy giant scary babie man #no matter how old i get these type of characters never cease to be funny to me #he just barks at p much everyone but MC LMFAO #anywho i hope you enjoyed these!!! and that i answered to satisfaction úwù <3333 #requests are still open #asks #rambles #not incorrect quotes

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nerds-escape · 3 years

Text

Hi I am now in an anti-Snape mood so...here we go.

Quick preface before we begin: I will be talking about abuse and some other topics, I’ll put trigger warnings at the beginning of everything

NOTE: This is based off my experience as a person who was abused by both friends and family as well as a disabled person and a person who has been sexually harassed and something I don’t even know the term for it was somewhere in between sexual harassment and sexual assault.

“He was Abused as a Child”

TW: Abuse

I know it’s mentioned a lot but just because Snape was abused doesn’t mean he was destined to be a bad person, in fact, when someone says that, it makes it a lot harder for people to come to terms with what has happened. As a person who was manipulated and belittled my entire life I would like to say: I have been told I am a good person so I think I’m a good person, really it’s kind of subjective. But if you want to know some things so you can judge for yourself (a lot of these things had to be put on hold because of the pandemic which is why I’m using past tense):

I taught mentally and physically disabled kids how to swim

I had good grades

I work four jobs so I can pay to go to Uni

I have a hard time setting boundaries which means whenever someone ask me to do something, I do it out of fear of disappointing them (not a good thing but a thing none the less)

I was captain of the swim team

I was in a club that the soul purpose was to raise money for a children’s hospital

I spend a lot of my time volunteering

I know this sounds like I’m patting my own back but I just want you to understand who I am as a person. I like to think I’m a good person but it’s up to you if you believe that or not.

I have lost my autonomy due to my trauma. Every other word coming out of my mouth is sorry because I have been trained to believe everything is my fault. It took me years of therapy and talking with friends to figure that out.

The other day I asked my coworker if I could go to the bathroom because everything in my life I have had to tiptoe around and get express permission on including going to the restroom at times.

Obviously everyone reacts to abuse and trauma differently but having a villain and saying that they are bad because of the abuse they faced is just not it.

Source:

I don’t really know why you need sources on my abuse but here are some sources on trauma and how it can effect kids

https://www.ptsd.va.gov/understand/isitptsd/common_reactions.asp

https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/books/NBK207191/

https://www.kempe.org/wp-content/uploads/2015/01/The_Battered_Child_Syndrome.pdf

“The Marauders Sexually Assaulted/Harassed Snape”

TW: sexual assault/harassment

AMAB sexual assault and harassment is a real thing that needs to be talked about more, and something that shouldn’t be used to win an argument.

Snape Stans can’t seem to decide if this is sexual assault or sexual harassment. At most it is sexual harassment, this isn’t to say that sexual harassment is something to scoff at, this is to ask: pick one because saying these two are the same things is wildly misleading so stop using these words interchangeably.

Stop using male victims and survivors as trophies for your arguments. Did you know that 1 out of every 10 rape survivors are men? This is a real issue so don’t use it as a defense because guess what? It also makes makes men of sexual abuse seem like they are villains.

Pantsing was just a thing that happened when I was in grade school. Does that make it okay? No. But pantsing is mainly considered “schoolyard fun” especially when it’s between two people of the same sex. Again. Does this make it okay? No. Do I believe what James did was okay? No. But you can not tell me that if you got pantsed and your best friend was there to comfort you, would you call them a slur? I wouldn’t.

Sources: https://wlv.openrepository.com/bitstream/handle/2436/96284/Duncan_PhDthesis.pdf?sequence=2&isAllowed=y

https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pantsing

Yes I am using Wikipedia as a source because they have some good sources attached.

“He was Abused by Muggles and that’s why he Hated Them”

Okay and? He knew good muggles. I was abused by men. Does that mean I want all men dead? No. I have been abused by women. Does that mean I want all women dead? No! I could go on for a while of people who have abused me and I can tell you right now I don’t want any of those groups of people dead because guess what: those groups did nothing.

“Sirius Tried to Kill Him”

Yeah, no.

Nobody forced Snape to go there. Was it fucked up for Sirius to do that? Yeah. Like really fucked up but Snape didn’t have to go. He knew what he was getting himself into. He suspected Lupin to be a werewolf. He didn’t have to go to the shrieking shack.

I genuinely don’t think that Sirius thought this one through. To him Moony wasn’t a vicious creature, he had fun playing with Padfoot and he never hurt Padfoot so to Sirius it didn’t even cross his mind that he might be putting Snape in a dangerous situation.

That’s one theory, there are many theories and we don’t know why Sirius did it all we know is that Prongs saved Snape’s life. And Snape hated James for that. Which to be fair if someone saved my life I would probably be pissed off too but that’s besides the point.

“Snape Loved Lily”

No. Snape has the same energy as the guy who I blocked on Instagram after I repeatedly told him to stop something and then made four accounts just to keep texting me and went as far as to find and harass my friends. Same Energy.

“Their patroni match UwU” shut up. No. James’s patronus was a stag a stags mate is a doe, Lily’s was a doe. Snape’s was a doe as well. Now listen I’m down for two dope ass lesbian does but as we know because J*R that was not the case. That was an obsession. If you think that’s what love it like you are going to have very toxic relationships in your life and quite honestly lowkey concerned for you and/or your future, current, and/or past partners.

“He’s a good teacher he was keeping up the act”

No! Teachers abusing students is a real thing, what’s ever worse (as if that’s already bad enough) school was Harry’s safe haven. Now you could say the same for Snape, sure but Snape could defend himself against the Marauders. Choose your fighter: Eleven year old Harry who just learned that magic was a thing and that his parents didn’t die in a car crash vs Thirty-One year old Snape, a teacher. Let me tell you as a person who was bullied by her peers, when my sixth grade math teacher called me stupid, it had a lot greater of an impact than a student pushing me into the lockers.

Teachers are supposed to teach regardless of if they want to fuck your mom or not. It wasn’t only Harry that he was terrible to either.

Also see this entire article to disprove your point:

https://www.learningforjustice.org/magazine/fall-2014/abuse-of-power

Sources:

https://isiarticles.com/bundles/Article/pre/pdf/130622.pdf

Also refer to the article above as well.

I am done with my source arguments here is just a fun tidbit

My abusers favorite character is Snape and and he said he fully understands Snape...

Anyways I will be sending this to all people who try to argue with me about Snape.

#anti snape #rant #harry potter #james potter #hp #marauders #sirius black #Snape Stans #Snape apologist #some people say not to put anti Snape stuff in the Snape tags but also I feel like they need to hear this and this is about Snape #lily evans #I have been holding onto this for awhile #Snape

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obeiii-mee · 3 years

Note

Hey! Sorry to bother you with a second ask but i thought this one would be cool. Fluffy headcanons of the demon brothers watching scary movies with MC??? Somewhere MC gets scared, and some where they don't? Thanks again!! :)

It’s no bother!! I love getting requests from you guys! The more, the merrier. I sort of hc that the brothers and MC do have movie night every week or so and with them being demons, they tend to levitate towards the horror genre. Thank you for sending this, this is really cute :)))

Without further ado—-

————————————

The Brothers watching Scary movies with MC:

Lucifer:

-Haha mf already knows how this is going to end

-He warned you, he really did

-The horror movies DevilDom has to offer are nothing, and I mean nothing, like the ones from the human world

-I’m not going to go into detail but imagine Two Girls One Cup, in a less kinky and more gorey way (then times that by 10)

-But you were adamant into giving it a go and he literally could not deny you in that moment

-Because you were giving him the puppy eyes

-That’s like, the finishing blow you use every time to get your way with him and as far as you know it’s the only one that works so-

-He expected your reaction to the last second

-You were traumatised for lack of a better word and you were basically watching the whole film through the cracks between your fingers

-Seeing you in that state was like a punch in the gut but he couldn’t stop himself from throwing in a subtle ‘I told you so’

-“I told you watching something like this before bed is a bad idea, MC.”

-He might be a bit condescending and judgemental at first, but he’s probably going to baby you a bit for the rest of the night

-Because he feels bad he allowed you to watch it in the first place

-HAHAHAHA SOFT LUCIFER HAS BEEN SUMMONED, USE HIM WISELY

-He will start muttering words of comfort to you later because he’s certain you’re going to have trouble sleeping

-Because of that one time, he’s very hesitant to let you watch another horror film anytime soon

-But he will relent eventually (especially if you want to watch a human horror film as those are technically less extreme)

-If it makes you happy, he will go through with it, even if he has to let you cling onto him for the rest of the day

-Besides, the way you cuddle into him while you’re watching a horror film is very cute and endearing to him

Mammon:

-Ah yes, the most effective method of waking up the entire House of Lamentation at 3:00 am

-Mammon screaming his own vocal cords out in his room as he tries to get through his human’s favourite horror movie without dying of a heart attack

-It was his idea because he’s definitely the type to go: “Yeah let’s do this, it will be fun. Don’t get too scared alright MC? The Great Mammon will be here to protect ya.”

-And then ten minutes in, he’s basically in your lap

-Half an hour in, he turned himself into a demon burrito with his blankets

-You were enjoying the movie, laughing at the stupid sound effects and poor quality while Mammon next to you has wrapped himself in like two dozen blankets and pillows

-“Mammon you’re going to overheat.”

-“Don’t be silly human, I’m a demon who lives in hell. I can take high temperatures the same way I can take this damn movie!”

-He doesn’t take either of them well

-Mammon and the horror genre don’t mix well together to begin with

-So even if you might enjoy horror, he doesn’t react well to it at all

-And he’ll be low-key relieved if you tell him you guys don’t have to watch any sort of horror film for your date night

-“Well I guess if you don’t want to, then we don’t have to. Can’t make my human do something they’re uncomfortable with eh?”

-But if you do watch a scary movie with him, be sure to show any sort of physical affection to him as often as possible

-You don’t have to say anything, just hold his hand or let him put his head in your lap or something

-It might stop him from screeching like a female sloth in heat

-The last time that happened, his brothers weren’t too pleased with him

-They about to recreate the horror film scenes onto him, bring the popcorn have fun

Levi:

-For some reason, I feel like he doesn’t get scared easily while watching stuff

-I mean, after decades of obsessively watching animes with brutal character deaths (like Attack on Titan style) and grotesque horror games that are pretty nasty even to demons, let alone humans;

-A horror film, from the human world or even DevilDom, doesn’t do much for him

-It will have to have very good psychological horror in it if you want the hairs on his arms to stand up in anticipation

-Tension is a big deal for him and he will immediately shut off the TV if there are any cheap jump scares

-But, if you manage to find just the right thing for him?

-You’ll both be hiding under the bed in no time under the bathtub more like

-Hell, if the film you’re watching is that good, he might even be holding onto you for dear life without realising it and getting flustered about it

-For weeks afterwards, any sound that is remotely similar to one from that movie will probably send both of you into panic

-You came to his room one night because you’ve had a nightmare about the stupid film and legitimately thought there was a fucking demon serial killer in your room

-So you wanted to stay in his

-“But what if there is a serial killer in your room and now you just led it to me MC????”

-It’s all jokes, there’s no question he would lock both of you in his room and then stay there with you wide awake until dawn

-You’re his best friend after all, he would have to be completely heartless to leave you on your own! (Besides Levi is terrifying when he wants to be)

-One time you were sleeping over and the sound of fumbling woke you tf up

-And Levi immediately turned into his demon form, like he was ready to throw hands with this fictional murderer that supposedly sneaked into his room

-“DON’T WORRY MC, I’LL PROTECT YOU!”

-“Ah never mind, it’s just Mammon breaking into your room again to steal your Ruri-Cham figurines and sell them on Akuzon.”

-“Oh OK.”

-“.....”

-“WAIT MAMMON WTF YOU FUCKING SCUMBAG, GET OUT OF MY ROOM-“

-I’m playing Minecraft

Satan:

-Believe it or not, Satan doesn’t care much about horror movies

-Don’t get me wrong, he loves watching his brothers shit their pants out of fear in the middle of one while he silently smirks to himself because watching other people suffer brings him euphoria

-Especially if someone actually manages to find a film that is excellent enough to spook Lucifer, because then he will be cackLING

-But, overall, he watches a lot of shows revolved around drama and crime

-That’s his thing

-However, he won’t turn you down if you’re up to watching a scary movie with him

-Any time spent with you is valuable time seeing as it won’t be long before his brothers start hogging you again like the cockblockers they are

-He is honestly surprised to find out you seem to be rather amused by those sort of movies

-So, even if it’s not inherently something he does on the regular, he would definitely watch a scary film with you if you enjoy them that much

-But in exchange, he makes you promise to read with him until bedtime rolls around (imagine Lucifer having a fucking curfew for his brothers and you lmao)

-So for the rest of night you guys just read together, ya know, like sappy romantics

-Tbh, this man will do almost anything with you as long as both of you are having fun

-He knows it’s not likely, but he insists on sleeping in the same room that night just in case you have nightmares and he needs to comfort you

- :)

-Satan is a gentleman. Idk how many people that don’t play OM expected to hear this

Asmo:

-Why would you want to watch a movie when you could be watching him???

-I mean, you would rather watch all that gory stuff on the TV than his beautiful face?

-He may get salty over a fucking movie tbh

-Horror films aren’t something he generally looks for while trying to pick a movie to watch

-He can definitely handle them better than Mammon but it’s not something he takes great pleasure in watching

-But the first time he ever sits down with you to watch one, he’s very intrigued to see your reactions

-You started feeling the sensation of absolute dread creep in at the very beginning and you were trying your best to act like you weren’t getting affected by what you saw on the screen

-But you were

-You went from “I’m grown ass adult, I can watch a fucking horror movie, no problem.”

-To “Welp, not enough of a grown ass adult for this-“

-And Asmo thought the way you tried to hide your nervousness was very mesmerising in a way

-He was planning on flirting with you during the movie anyway, but now that you were pressing himself against him?

-Oh boy, Oh boy

-“Darling if you wanted to touch me, you could’ve just said so. Making the excuse of watching a movie is unnecessary.”

-Nightmares? What nightmares? You won’t have time to have nightmares ;)

-haHAHA funny inappropriate joke

-It’s Asmo, it’s mandatory to have at least one of those added in here

Beel:

-Beel will show up if there’s food and that’s that

-He doesn’t care what type of movie is playing on the TV as long as he has a bucket of popcorn next to him at all times

-Horror films aren’t something he can’t handle, he’s a demon like the rest of his brothers and he is used to...violent deaths and such

-He doesn’t get scared but there are times where he gets attached to the characters

-Especially movies with actual good and not cringeworthy dialogue

-Therefore, when they die, he gets sad even if they’re just fictional and their death had no real impact

-He also thinks that the way you can watch these things without flinching is impressive

-I mean, he can watch it and so can his brothers because they are demons

-They’ve done worse things than the things you see in horror films

-But you’re a human! So it’s weird to see you watch a person get repeatedly slammed against a wall until their neck snaps without batting an eyelid

-Overall, he does not have an opinion on scary movies

-He gets a bit emotional when a character he really liked dies

-But other than that, he’s just focused on eating

-And occasionally patting your head affectionately

Belphie:

-He doesn’t really like horror films because there’s a lot of screaming and tense music and he’s just trying to nap in your lap (rhyme)

-He doesn’t really need sound effects like that in the background while he’s trying to sleep

-But one day he was like “Hey, what if I show my favourite human this particular scary film?”

-And he did

-And he’s internally dying and feeling guilty and yet so flustered because of you

-It’s like you suddenly turn into this very fidgety and anxious mess and he thinks you just look....cute

-At some point you were getting overwhelmed and sprung up on your feet to turn the lights on

-And he just grabbbed your wrists, pulled you down next to him and let you press your head against his chest

-As mentioned, he’s a little shit and will tease you for being such a scaredy cat

-“That was the most predictable jumpscare and you still flinched, wth is wrong with you lmao.”

-But at the same time....

-“Relax. It’s just a horror movie. You’ll be fine. Besides, I’m here. Like I would let something bad happen to you.”

-That’s sweet, even if the tone of voice may not imply it because he’s such a brat-

-He actually really likes holding you for once, because usually he’s the little spoon

-He’s still a bit of a sadist so I imagine him sitting there and watching this while giggling to himself

-Isn’t he the cutest, laughing at other people’s misery and their never ending suffering?🥺🥺🥺 UwU

-Ah well, at least he has the decency to spoil with affection afterwards and make sure you have no nightmares that night

-You know, as payback for the horrific shit he made you watch with no warning

————————————

OK, I think I made a decent job of this even though it took longer than it actually was meant to. Thank you for reading though. I’ve got so many requests to go through and I’ve been feeling motivated lately so yeah!

See you soon

Al~

#obey me #obey me imagines #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me leviathan #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me satan #watching scary movies #obey me shall we date #☂️ demon brothers #⭐️ requests #🌸 comfort #💳 mammon supremacy #I love him I’m sorry

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shu-sakamaki · 3 years

Note

(TW : Bullying)

Random and dark headcanons about Shuu Sakamaki

If you are not comfortable with those themes please just scroll, I don't want to make anyone uneasy, it's for fiction and fantasies only, Shuu is in NO WAY meant to be portrayed in real life, he is not a good person and none of his actions are acceptable.

In which you're a bride living in the Sakamaki manor :

- His voice is really low, much lower and raspier than his voice in the anime, it just makes more sense to me because he's always sleepy and horny, sadly he's the one who speaks the less (like, sir, just keep your mouth open and never shut up 👄🔪)

- He's just so disgusted everytime Reiji come near him that he's always scrunching his nose for a split second and then furrows his brows as if he smelled something bad but it's just Reiji (🤣🤣) and four eyes get even more mad.

- If your staring at him for too long he will stare back at you and look at you up and down. Now, there's two type of look, there is the "gtfo of my face, you're burning my eyes" (which is kinda hot in its own way 👉👈) and the "I'm horny as hell, keep staring at me I will mount you, female." And I don't know how, but he notice everything, you can try and be unnoticeable by looking at him and then looking away but when your looking back at him again, he's staring right at your soul like 👁-👁 (sir pls stop you're scaring me)

- He have bedroom eyes like, 90 % of the times, Shuu always seems to be in his own reality with his closed eyes and earphones, he somehow look zooted (on sleep and sex uhu, anyways letmeshutup)

- He's the king of side-eye, if you bother his slumber he will give you the saltiest, hottest, coldest side-eye, it'll make you tear up. My theory is that he can make people crumble with just a look. (and that's on 💫trauma💫)

- Now that we're on the subject of tears, Shuu loves them (you monster) and try a lot of things mainly out of boredom and just to randomly see you cry because why not. And him being a teaser + dacryphilia is the worst thing you can ask for. Because when the oldest lay his interest on someone, I think that the rest of the brothers kinda back off to not make him angry (they're not suicidal gud gud) so you're just getting bullied by him and everyone is just watching.

- For example when you walk past him, he'll pinch your thighs and it always hurts so bad and leaves red/purple spots or just grab your wrist and hold it really hard till you cry and beg him to not break it. And sometimes he'll just plainly ignore you which can be worst because it's always leaving you with the impression that something's gonna fall upon you when you least expect it. (Not mister playing as the Fates) And if you try to avoid him, he's going to catch up on it pretty fast and suddenly you're seeing him everywhere and he's not going to limit his torture to the manor, even in school he will find ways to terrorize you. He will say the lewdest, dirtiest things to you like its nothing or will just sneak up on you and touch your butt in the hall. (You need to keep an eye on him like the bogeyman). It's just a game for him, he's bored and you're the perfect prey to toy with.

- Yeah also he doesn't care about consent... just like the rest of his demonic gremlins of brothers, resisting him just makes it more fun for him. But if you are actually getting aggressive like pulling his hair, slapping him or scratching his skin he'll put out his knife (he gon look at you like dis 🔵👄🔵🔪) and will threatens to kill you really slowly. A thing about his knife, is that admin once said that he's carrying it everywhere, so he can just pull it out of idk where and rub it on your skin, threatening silently to slit your throat at any moment. There is always that one kid who like to draw on people's arms with a marker in school, Shuu does the same with his knife, you have little cuts here and there because of him.

- He's manipulative and merciless, you can pour your heart out to him and tell him how something just broke you and he's gonna look at you like "and what does it got to do with me?" or just fall asleep on you. He picks a lot on your insecurities just because he knows where it hurts (he doesn't really think it, he don't care lol) and will talk to you with such a mocking/condescending tone, as if your stupid and its not like you can complain about it.

- Shuu appears at the most random times and just ask you to do things that HE'S supposed to do. And you can either do your thing and he won't care or be bothered that you disobeyed and will punish you. Admin mentioned it often, how one of the scariest thing with Shuu is the unlimited feeling of uncertainty, you really never know. One day he's cool with you and the other he's not.

- Remember when Shuu talked about seduction ? He said that its the difference between him and Laito. Laito thrives off people's fear and disgust of him and he will force himself upon them, and with Laito, you're mainly scared of him. But with Shuu, there is something quite exciting about him being around you and just giving you his attention. (Idk how to explain it, it's the Shuu Effect 🦋) Sometimes you can even feel like you have a choice, when you really don't. He's guilt-tripping you a lot of the time and you don't realize it sometimes and think that it's your decision, but honey...

- When he starts to get use to you, use to you taking care of him and use to your presence that's when the trickiest part comes up. He can either, get bored of you so he'll probably leave you alone giving green signals to his brothers to do whatever they want (or he kills you) or he's falling in love.

- You know that he's falling in love with you when he's more around you to the point when he's the only face that you're seeing and his brothers are just avoiding you like the plague, everyone does, it's like, even humans have a gut feeling that being around you won't bring them good because of the scary demon behind you. (Well if you listen to him it's more of a "You're the one obsessed with me and not the opposite" but yk), he's going to insult you every ten seconds because you looked at an alive being "I'm not looking at you for ten seconds and you're already whoring yourself out ? Pathetic." (But really, it's the poSseSsiViTy), I can also see him as being more touchy in a way but it varies, it don't necessarily mean that Shuu would go tender on you.

- He built a wall around him (like attack on titan type of wall duh, Wall Maria I see you 🙄) to block and repulse any being who wants to be close to him, so when he realizes that he's falling in love with you (and hard because Shuu don't have the concept of limit) he will probably get scared and would try to back off, scare you, being even more brutal because he need to know, need to be sure, how willing you are to be with him. He can't handle a deception and also I feel like he is pretty aware of his mental state and he is deeply scared of losing you and losing himself completely in the same boat.

- When he starts to really care for you, I think that he will start to have nightmares again, especially about Edgar and other stuff involving you because how scared he is. Which bring me to an article that admin about Shuu mastering aftercare, it's 100% logic that he's with you and whispering sweet nothing till he sure that you are safe and asleep with him.

- When his shell starts to crack, it's when he's going to be as his probably most vulnerable state when you can just see how much the paranoia, the possessivity and all the trauma cloud his mind. He will still try to test you for some time and just kinda...still observing like a predator (but with more of a lovesick turn) till he's certain that you will not betray him. And don't take it personally, that's just how he is, everything has been taken away from him, all the happiness, all the color were sucked out of his life, and when there is a real opportunity of getting this happiness back he doesn't play. Literally, Shuu can not handle losing someone important again or he will go full-on Kanato insane. That's why he drown himself in sex and sleep, to not think, that's why he always have sound in his earbuds, to not hear the silence. Its not Shuu's fault that Edgar is dead, it's not his fault if the German shepherd got killed, it's not his fault if his mother didn't took care of his brother, but he'll still take the blame. (Well maybe not for Reiji but you get it.)

Thanks to everyone who manages to read it through and have a good day and remember that you're loved and worthy ❤😌

((I honestly LOVE how you emphasize the canon aspect that Shu has NO LIMITS. Or he LOVES you to the point of obsession, or no deal. That IS Shu... And I'm scared about the person I'm becoming but the ones about how scary he actually is while statically staring at you?... Was hot... O///O ???))

#Ask #admin #shu #hc #fave #save #favorite #fav #sav

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diavolosthots · 3 years

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Could you please do satan or levi or beel in a scenario where mc has a fan wich gradually turn into a stalker that steals her stuff/take pictures of her etc but mc didn't tell the brothers about the stalker since they didn't want to bother them or wanted to solve it by themselve

Oof okay I really tried

Warning: stalker, threats

Internet Age ( LEVIATHAN X GN!READER )

As one of the students in the exchange program, and thus new meat in a place full of demons, you weren’t really safe from anyone. Mammon was, of course, sent to take care of you and make sure nothing happens, but you still somehow got involved with one demon or another that wasn’t one of the brothers. Really, at first you thought he was just being friendly and he genuinely seemed interested in your human life, but you seemed to forget that demons are perfect manipulators. He slithered his way into your life and it’s slowly but surely spiraling out of control. It even went as far as texts and calls, which didn’t make you too uncomfortable at first because, once again, he seemed nice enough.

It only became a problem when he openly admitted to being jealous, specifically of Levi. Now, it’s not even that it should’ve been an issue, considering that Levi and you weren’t even together. You tried to ignore it, calming the demon’s nerves by saying that you were single and definitely not ready to mingle, but it only worked for so long. He became… somewhat obsessed with you, and you swore you saw him outside your window once or twice. Levi noticed too, how on edge you were, and how you always seemed to look behind you, but he didn’t say anything. He thought it was just your natural human fear to be afraid of the dark, which, the Devildom is pretty dark. When you were gaming with Levi or even just together with all the brothers in general, was the only time you somewhat let down your guard, and Levi took notice of that. In all honesty, he’s been watching you a lot lately and kind of feeling uncomfortable for you, but he’d never bring it up.

Still, he hated being worried and when you looked down at your phone once, gasping and your eyes going wide, alerting everyone in the room with you, he knew he had to act. ‘What’s wrong?” But you only shook your head, “nothing.” He let it go, but not really. What else is he good for if not technology and being awkward? Yes, he hacked into your phone, seeing the message from an unsaved number and the picture attached; it was one of you, in your underwear, taken from outside your window. He felt disgusted just seeing that, not you of course, just the fact that someone would do that. But he didn’t confront you. It would only make things worse.

Instead, he set up cameras around the outside of the house and locked himself in his room for days, which wasn’t very unusual and no one questioned it, and lo and behold, he caught the guy a couple times. He even caught you going to the window to talk to him, but due to no sound, he could not even guess what you were saying. For days after that, he debated on what to do with this information. He almost went to Lucifer first, especially with the underwear picture, but he figured you should at least know. “(Y/N)... sit down.” You were in his room, about to game with him, or so you thought, but he was getting serious, a rare sight you never saw of him. “Levi?” His eyes met yours, holding confusion and fear, and even a bit of sadness, “I know.”

You raised an eyebrow, confused on what he meant until he moved aside to show you his computer screens and the video evidence he had been collecting. “I mean… I don’t know…. But I finally figured out why you’re so on edge. I haven’t… I haven’t told anyone yet, but you need to talk to Lucifer.” “No!” You turned away from the screens, your initial shocked face turning into one of pain, tears threatening to spill. Levi stood there, unsure of what to do, only hesitantly asking, “n-no…? What do you mean? (Y/N)! This guy is stalking you..?!” You nodded, letting your head fall into your hands as choked sobs left your mouth, “h-he… he’s been doing it for months… he said… Levi, he figured everything out about me…” You curled into yourself, resting your head onto your knees as you cried loudly, “he knows.. My family…. He said he’ll hurt them, I can’t… he threatened to kill me..!” Levi’s face turned from confusion, to sympathy, to anger as he crouched down in front of you. “H-hey… father.. I’m not good at this stuff, but… do.. Do you know why?” He hesitantly put his hand on your head, slowly patting your hair, hoping you’d open up, “y-you… he said he was jealous of you…”

Silence. Everything was silent for a moment. The patting stopped and Levi just stared at you, not believing what he just heard. “M-me?” He didn’t know whether he should laugh or be offended. “Why? I’m… what? That’s stupid. I’m nothing. I’m practically useless, (Y/N)! Why would he be jealous?” You shook your head, sobs still escaping you as you lifted your head to look at him, “h-he said you’re around me too much… he said he’d kill you, too…” Honestly, he was just getting angry at this point, not even realizing his demon form had manifested until his tail lashed out behind him, making you jump, “We’re talking to Lucifer. I don’t care what you say. We’ll show him the footage and you’ll show him those texts. And you’re sleeping with me tonight.”

You looked up at him, wiping your tears in shock at him willingly sleeping with someone. Hell, he uttered the words without missing a beat! That’s progress. You pushed yourself up, wrapping your arms around him in a hug as you sniffled into his chest, “o-okay… thank you…. I’m sorry you’re getting dragged into this. I didn’t want to tell anyone.. I didn’t want anyone to get hurt.” He tried so hard to keep his composure, for you, slowly wrapping his arms around your too, and even his tail snuck around your bodies, pulling you closer, “I’m not letting anyone get hurt. Especially not you.”

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me headcanons #obey me scenarios #obey me leviathan #leviathan x reader #leviathan obey me #shall we date leviathan #leviathan avatar of envy #obey me leviathan x reader #stalker

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sweetfierceimagines · 3 years

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PART1/ It was supposed to be simple. Ricky x Reader (HSMTM)

Hello everyone, I’ve been trying really hard to write lately, and it has been very complicated. I think you all understand, when everything is not ok in someone’s life, that someone kind of loses it.

But I decided to fight that, I least trying !

I discovered the series High School Musical the Musical and even though I’m 24 and supposed to be over this kind of drama, I’M CLEARLY NOT.

Synopsis : Reader is a student, she’s not technically involved in the Musical like everyone else, but she helps with costumes making and set management. Ricky gets to know her and even though he really wants to get Nini back and has a whole plan for it, life decides to mess with him, and he gets involved in a new sentimental obsession.

Warnings : none. Probably not my best writing, please be kind to me.. Just a lot of fluff and teenage drama ! Enjoy <3

Tell me if you want this to carry on ! I’ll be glad to write a part 2 if you like it :)

RICKY POV/

Here he was, playing Troy Bolton in this Musical. He would never have done it if it wasn’t for Nini.

He understood her, understood her pain, understood why she chose that stupid E.J. But he was not going to abandon. It was not because he didn’t reply that he didn’t mean it.

So he enroled (quite amazingly by the way) in this musical. He was dancing, singing, acting.. He never thought it could actually be this fun and exhausting. He seemed to be reaching Nini’s heart more and more each day, as she was also realising that EJ was not as perfect as he pretended to be.

But something was about to mess up all his plans.

READER POV/

The school was all about that Musical. It seemed as if every other activity and class was less important and didn’t deserve that much attention. Y/N was not a singer, not a dancer. She didn’t play any instrument, she didn’t like to be under the spotlights.

She was all about reading, writing and creating. So when the art class shut down for “fund purposes” (basically meaning this musical was costing the school too much), she had to find another way to create.

So she went for it. Asked Miss Jenn if she needed someone for her costumes and decor management, and simply started to work on the set. She wasn’t the only one working on costumes and on stage management, but she clearly was the best of the team.

And it was appreciated.

After just a few weeks, she was named “stage and costume director”, whatever that means. Even though she was pretending she didn’t care, it sort of made her feel validated, and allowed her to create as much as she wanted to, which was pretty amazing.

RICKY POV/

It was one of these days.

Everything seemed to fall apart. His parents were ending their relationship, his mom would probably leave for a long time, Nini still supported EJ even though he was making mistakes for which she would have dumped him..

He felt like everything he was doing was not good enough and it was hard to deal with. He was not usually shy with his feelings, but this time he didn’t feel like sharing. So he stayed late, very late, at school, and waited for everyone to leave stage to show up.

He was sure no one was there, so he let his emotions speak and just let it out. He started by talking to himself, making moves and being loud. He was talking about his family, his fear of being abandonned, his fear of never being loved again, the pain of knowing he lost Nini because he didn’t deserve her back there, the impression that EJ was a better man than he was.. he could go for hours.

And then he started singing.

A couple sentences from numerous songs. Songs about love, songs about pain, songs about courage. He closed his eyes and sang his heart out. It was beautiful, strong, sincere. It would have tear anyone’s heart.

And it did.

READER POV/

Y/N was staying late, as usual. She had a special authorisation from Miss Jenn and the Dean to stay extra hours backstage, working of costumes or just on personnal projects.

At school at least, she didn’t have to deal with noise, with family issues of with anything that could poison her creativity.

She was painting when she heard a noise.

Startled, she sort of went in panic mode, imagining a hundred scenarios in which she would get in troubles. She walked smoothly to the stage entrance and remained out of sight while looking at the boy who played Troy basically loosing his mind on stage.

She could have told him that he was not alone, she was actually about to signal her presence out of respect for what he was revealing, when he started singing.

It made Y/N go numb, as if she left her body and could feel her soul burning of compassion. His voice was everything, his face was everything.

She didn’t realise, but she was crying silently.

After a couple minutes, she realised she was actually holding her breath. She breathed heavily and stumbled, making Ricky realise he was not alone at all.

The boy jumped and fell down, hurting himself quite badly.

Y/N came rushing at him, feeling terribly sorry for what happened.

RICKY POV/

- Man ! Couldn’t you say you were here?!

Ricky was flaming red, embarrassed that someone heard everything. He looked at this girl’s face and it honestly took him a few seconds to remember who she was. Yes, she was on stage pretty much each day, but at some point he got so obsessed with the Musical and Nini that he completly forgot about the environment he was evolving in.

She was pretty, her Y/E/C eyes looking terrified and guilty, and it seemed as she cried recently, her eyes a bit red.

He stood up and winced, lifting his shirt a bit to realise he was going to get bruses all over his chest and stomach.

- I’m so sorry, I really didn’t mean to interrupt or even listen. Seriously, I was going to tell you, i’m not a creep. Well, not that kind at least..

- Yeah? You were going to? Seems like you had plenty of time.

He sighed and headed backstage to inspect his clothes and body in the miror, assessing at bad it was.

Y/N followed, staying a few meters away to give him some space. She didn’t say anything, feeling guilty enough.

Ricky took his shirt out completly, looking at his body. Y/N could tell he was contracting a bit his abs and arms and let out a silent laugh. She observed for a couple minutes and finally talked.

- You riped your shirt a bit.

Ricky turned, facing her, looking anoyed, and lifted his arms.

- No joke ! Who’s falt is it?

- You’re the one who fell dude.

He opened his mouth to answer right back but her cheekiness cheered him a bit, and he simply nodded his head.

- Yeah, I’ll blame gravity next time I see her. A real troublemaker that one.

He looked at his shirt and sighed. He didn’t know anything about sewing and his mom would probably have other things to do. Too bad, it was his favorite old school shirt.

Y/N stretched her hand toward him and he gave her his shirt. Still shirtless, he looked as she sat down where it seemed like she was staying most of the time, in a corner with painting all over, needles and fabric. She grabed one needle, easily got the thread in and started sewing, with a hand technique that showed how used to it she was.

He looked around, noticing one painting that seemed to still be in progress. He got closer, reaching his hand to it.

- Don’t ! It’s wet, I was on it when I heard you.

He turned around, looking at her in another way. She was pretty impressive, painting stuff, sewing shirts and managing a stage so well people didn’t even realised she was here.

- That’s sick.

He said with a smile.

She looked back at him and nodded, smiling at him too.

- Thanks. I usually plan what I’m going to do but this one.. it just came to me.

He looked closer, noticing a female silouette, somehow looking cut in some parts. Not cut as stabbed, but cut as split in different sections.

- What do you think it is?

Y/N said while carrying on her sewing. She acted as she was not looking at him, but each time he got his attention back at the painting, she would look at him, trying to anticipate his reactions.

- Hum.. It’s a.. it’s a woman? Right?

He would turn to her, as if he was looking for her validation for each word he said. She simply nodded, encouraging him to carry on.

- It’s a woman, and this woman is split. She.. Maybe because she went through a lot, maybe the different sections represent different emotions? Different moments of her life?

He remained silent for a second and looked with intensity at the painting. His eyebrows frown and he suddently looked sad.

- Maybe because she can’t be whole again. She has to be split. She has to try to deal with these conflicting emotions, these ups and downs. Maybe people tell her she should be grateful, and happy, and she should move on. But she can’t, because life cut her in several pieces.

And a tear rolled down his cheek.

Y/N stood up, mooving carefully toward him, and put a gentle hand on his (still naked) shoulder. She could feel him shaking a bit, deeply moved by what he felt from the painting.

- Ricky.. it’s ok.

He turned, facing her, his eyes still filled with tears. He didn’t quite knew why, but he didn’t feel like looking anything but himself with her. After all, she knew how he was feeling, she heard what he said, and she felt what he felt.

The way she was looking at him.. Conforting, warm, yet terrifying. She understood.

He put his hand on hers, squeezing it as if it would make him feel better. He was here, facing her, hand on hand, eyes to eyes.

Suddenly, the speaker went on, the voice of a security guy telling “Miss Y/N, time to close the school. Sorry”

This sort of broke the moment. They broke the physical contact and she gave him his shirt back. They both gathered their stuff and silently headed to the front door, thanking the security guard for his patience.

They smiled at each other and Ricky waved goodbye, whatching as she was quitely leaving of her bike.

#hsmtmts #hsm the musical #high school musical the musical #rickybowen #ricky x reader #ricky bowen x reader #ricky bowen imagine #imagine #imagines #joshua basset x reader #joshua basset imagine #joshua bassett #nini hsmtmts #romance

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nevermindirah · 4 years

Text

I've been drafting and redrafting this meta post for weeks now. It's about to be 5781 and my country that was founded on settler colonial genocide and slavery and a deeply flawed but fierce attachment to democracy might go full dictatorship in about 6 weeks and it's time for me to post this thing.

All our immortals are warriors, all have been traumatized by war. But only three of them died their first deaths as soldiers in imperial armies. This fandom has already produced gallons of meta on Nicky dealing with his shit, because Joe would not fuck with an unapologetic Crusader. But there's very rich stuff in Booker and Nile's experiences and the parallels and distinctions between them.

Nile was 11 when her dad was killed in action - that was 2005, meaning she and her dad both died in the same war that George W Bush started in very tenuous response to 9/11. Sure, Nile's dad could have died in either Iraq or Afghanistan, or in a training accident or in an off-the-books mission we won't know about for a hundred more years, but he died in the War on Terror all the same. I had to look it up to be sure because Obama "drew down" the Afghanistan war in his second term, but nope, we're still in this fucking thing that never should've happened in the first place. The US war in Afghanistan just turned 19 years old. A lot of real-life Americans have experiences like the Freemans, parents and children both dying in the same war we shouldn't be in.

I know a lot of people like Nile who join the US military not just because it's the only realistic way for them to pay for college or afford decent healthcare, but also because they have a family history of military service that's a genuine source of pride. Military service has been a way for Americans of color to be accepted by white Americans as "true Americans" - from today's Dreamers who Obama promised would earn protection from deportation by enlisting, to Filipino veterans of WW2 earning US citizenship that Congress then denied them for several decades, to slaves "earning" their freedom through service in the Union Army and in the Continental Army before it. As if freedom is a thing one should have to earn. Lots of Black Americans have the last name Freeman for lots of different escaping-slavery reasons, but it's possible that this specific reason is how Nile got her last name.

Dying in a war you know your country chose to instigate unnecessarily and that maybe you believe it shouldn't be waging is a very particular kind of trauma. It is a much deeper trauma when your military service, and your father's, and maybe generations of your ancestors', is a source of pride and access to resources for you but your sacrifice is nearly meaningless to the white supremacist system that deploys you. That kind of cognitive dissonance encourages a person to ignore their own feelings just so they can function. How do you wake up in the morning, how do you risk your life every day, how do you *kill other people* in a war that shouldn't be happening and that you shouldn't have to serve in just so that your country sees you as human?

We see Nile do her best to be a kind and well-mannered invader. Depending on your experience with US imperialism, Nile giving candy to kids and reminding her squad to be respectful is either heartwarming or very disturbing propaganda. We also see Nile clutching her cross necklace and praying. From the second Christianity arrived on this land it's been a tool of white supremacist assimilation and control, but like military service, it's a fucked-up but genuine source of pride and access to resources for many Americans whose pre-Columbian ancestors were not Christian, and it's a powerful source of comfort and resilience. This Jew who's had a lot of Spanish Inquisition nightmares would like to say for the record that it's not Jesus's fault that his big name fans are such shitty people.

Nile is a good person trying to do her best in a fucked-up world. "Her best" just radically changed. Her access to information on just how fucked up the world is has also just radically changed, because everything's so fucked up a person needs a lot of time to learn about it all and not only does she have centuries but she won't have to spend that time worrying about rent and healthcare and taxes, and because she now has Joe and Nicky and Andy's stories, and because she now has Copley's inside scoop on just what the fuck the CIA has been up to. Like, I want a fic where Copley tells Nile what was really behind the brass's decisions that led to her experiences on the ground in Afghanistan, that led to her father's death, but also I Do Not Want That.

Nile was 19 when Alicia Garza posted on Facebook that Black Lives Matter. She grew up in Chicago well before white people on Twitter were saying maybe police violence against Black people is a problem. She knows this is a deeply fucked up country, and she put on her Marine uniform and deployed with her team of mostly fellow women of color, and maybe she and Dizzy and Jay marched in the streets between deployments, maybe they texted each other when a white manarchist at a protest sneered at one of them for being a Marine. Nile's been busy surviving, and she knows some shit and she's seen some shit but she hasn't had much time to think about what it all means. Now she's got time. And Joe, Nicky, and Andy are willing to listen. (Is Copley willing to listen? I could see that going either way.)

Booker might also be willing to listen. The brilliant idea of cleaning up the rat Frenchman so that Nile can have millennia of emotional support and orgasms sent me down a Wikipedia rabbit hole, and holy shit do Booker and Nile have a lot of shared life experience as pawns of imperial wars. Obviously Booker is white and a man and that makes a very big difference. (Though G-d help me, Booker could be Jewish and France was knocking its Jews around like ping-pong balls in the 18th-19th centuries. Jewish Booker wouldn't make him any less white but it does add a shit ton of depth of common experience: military service as a way for your country to see you as a full member of society who matters, because who you are means that's not guaranteed.)

Booker was hanged for desertion from the army Napoleon sent to invade Russia as part of his quest to control all of Europe. We learn in the comics / this YouTube video that Booker was on his way to prison for forgery when he was offered military service instead of jail time. While we don't know how he felt about the choice beyond that he did choose soldier over inmate, it's unlikely he thought invading Russia was a great idea, given he tried to desert because Napoleon like a true imperialist dumbass didn't plan for how he was going to feed his army or keep them from freezing to death in fucking Russian winter.

I find it very interesting that the French Empire was at its largest right before invading Russia and fell apart completely within a few years. My country has been falling the fuck apart for a while now - see aforementioned War on Terror, growing extremes of economic stratification in the richest country in the world, abject refusal to meaningfully deal with climate change that US-based corporations hold the lion's share of blame for - but between Trump's abject refusal to meaningfully deal with the coronavirus and strong likelihood that he'll refuse to leave office even if a certain pathetic moderate I will hold my nose and vote for does manage to earn a majority of votes, ~y~i~k~e~s.

Our only immortals who have never known a world before modernity and nationalism happen to have been born of wars that were the beginning of the end for the imperialist democracies that raised them, and I think in the centuries to come that's going to give them some very interesting shit to talk about.

Nile's a Young Millennial, a digital native born in the United States after the collapse of the USSR left her country as the world's only superpower. She's used to a pace of technological change that human brains are not evolved to handle.

Napoleon trying to make all of Europe into the French Empire was a leading cause of the growth of European nationalism and the establishment of liberal democracies both in Europe and in many places that Europeans had colonized. Booker's first war produced the only geopolitical world order Nile has ever known and I just have so many feelings ok. Nile the art history nerd is probably not aware of this, and why would she be? This humble meta author is, like Nile, a product of US public schools, and all they taught me about world history was Ancient Greece/Rome/Egypt/Mesopotamia and then World War 2. Being raised in The World's Only Superpower is WEIRD.

Nile the Young Millennial is used to the devastating volume of bad news the internet makes possible. But she has absolutely no concept of a world where the United States of America is not The World's Only Superpower. In order to get up in the morning and put on her gear and point guns at civilians in Afghanistan, she can only let herself think so much about whether that American exceptionalism thing is a good idea.

She's about to spend many, many years where the only people who she can truly trust are people who are older than not only her country but the IDEA of countries.

She's got time, and she's got a lot of new information at her disposal. But there comes a point where my obsession with her friendship and eventual very hot sex life with Booker just isn't about sex at all. Nile needs someone to talk to about the United States who Gets It. Booker the rat Frenchman coerced into Napoleon's army, and Copley the Black dual citizen of the US and UK who's retired from a CIA career that he half understands as deeply problematic but half still believes in hence his mind-bogglingly stupid partnership with Merrick, are the only people on the planet Nile can talk to honestly about, and really be understood in, all the thoughts and feelings and fears and hopes of her experience as a US Marine.

And one more thing before I go get ready for Rosh Hashanah: Orientalism was a defining element of the Crusades and that legacy is painfully clear in current US-led Western military activity in Afghanistan, Syria, Israel/Palestine, you name it. Turns out memoirs by French veterans of the Napoleonic Wars are full of Orientalist language about Russia as well. I am maybe/definitely writing a fic where Booker spends his exile reading critical race theory and decolonial feminism and trauma studies monographs because he can't be honest with a therapist but maybe he can heal this way and become the team therapist his own damn self. I just really need him to read Edward Said and Gloria Anzaldúa and then go down on Nile, ok?

#nile freeman #tog meta #book of nile #sebastien le livre #the old guard #mine #us imperialism #european imperialism #jewish things #antiblackness #police violence #orientalism

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panda-noosh · 3 years

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lost in translation {draco malfoy x reader}

words: 11.8k

summary: draco finds a notebook filled with beautiful, painful words. he keeps it for himself. he promises he’ll give it back to the rightful owner when he eventually finds them.

genre: angst

notes: support my writing or ask about commissions! - masterlist - i literally don’t know what plot is any more okay. also i listened to i love you by billie eilish on loop whilst writing this so feel free to put that on if you want.

---

draco sees the words every time he closes his eyes.

repeated stanzas, never leaving him alone. a mouthful of words no mind should ever be able to conjure. a haunting imagination capable of driving even the sanest people out of sanity.

he found the book on a winters day at hogwarts. christmas time was just round the corner, meaning most of his friends had already fled the castle in favour of homes, somewhere out in the muggle world, where they could spend the holidays with families who cared for them as families often cared for each other.

draco decided to stay at hogwarts.

he didn’t want to - not really. his father was just being difficult, and he wanted to face the man even less than he wanted to spend the holidays with people like potter and teachers who didn’t like him because of his family name.

he is entirely on his own this holiday season, and it depresses him more than he would ever be willing to let on.

because, you see, the thing with draco malfoy is, weakness has been a taboo subject amongst his family for as long as he can remember. his father drilled into his conscience that malfoys always have their heads held high, that they must be able to cope entirely on their own in any circumstance, because that’s what strength is. needing no one. fending only for yourself. living life to get what you want without worrying about anybody else.

this is why draco doesn’t sit with the other students during the christmas feast. instead, he finds himself traipsing through the library, poking at spines of books so old the writing has been smudged and worn, the contents made up of words once spoken in england, now lost to time.

the place smells dusty. it makes him sneeze, and he grimaces when he pulls his finger away from a shelf to see it coated in a thick layer of dust which he hastily wipes on his already gravy-stained robes. his stomach grumbles with the reminder of the christmas feast waiting downstairs for him - all he needs to do is pull a chair up and dig in. none of the teachers will mind. the students might be a bit iffy, but when has draco ever cared about what they think?

instead, he slumps against the wall, pulls a book into his lap and starts to read.

he’s so engrossed in the old text that he doesn’t hear the library door opening. he doesn’t hear peeve’s taunting cackles until they’re right over his head, peeves pointed toes very nearly scraping his slicked back hair.

draco’s head snaps up. above him, the poltergeist laughs, throwing his head back.

“peeves!” draco scrambles to his feet, swatting at the poltergeist. “oh, for christ’s sake, do you ever give it a rest?”

“all alone for christmas, are you, malfoy?” the poltergeist taunts. “surely daddy can afford you a way home with all that money the dark lord’s been shovelling into his pockets!”

draco’s face burns. “go away, you annoying little roach, before i get the hoover!”

peeves only laughs harder. “what a threat that was! wait till i tell the headmaster about that one.” and before draco can say anything else, peeves has grabbed a single, tiny book from the edge of a bookshelf and dropped it on draco’s head.

it crashes against the crown of his skull and bounces to the floor unceremoniously, flipping open upon the carpet. draco makes to yell, his fury bubbling over, but his voice is lost to the sudden emptiness of the room as peeves does what peeves does best and disappears.

draco groans through gritted teeth, rubbing the spot the book bounced from. it aches a little bit, which is surprising considering the size of the book. not a textbook. not really anything any of his teachers would ask him to check out of the library. instead, it’s spiral bound, the words not typed, but handwritten in sloppy scrawl, like the author was in a rush when transferring their thoughts onto paper.

draco frowns; why should a book such as this be in the schools library?

he picks it up by the corner, as if afraid the book might bite him - it certainly wouldn’t be the first time. the book, however, makes no strange movements. draco feels no strange, magical pull coming from the pages. in fact, if he were to use his common sense, he would believe the book to be straight from the muggle world.

that alone should have been enough to deter him, but his father isn’t here, so he opens it and starts reading.

the first few pages are awkward poetry. awkward essays, a person’s thoughts and opinions filtered with the fear of someone reading over their shoulder, perhaps. draco can tell the author was holding back, but the further he flips, the looser said author seems to become. they start using words. just words, so beautiful and magical and heartfelt that draco finds himself enraptured with every one. he struggles to put the book down, curling into his tiny corner in the library, enamoured by such language. he wonders for the brief moment he is able to take his eyes off the page if perhaps the book has been cast under a spell, if perhaps there is a spell in this world that puts heaven and hell into words and has transferred it to the very book he holds in his hands.

draco has spent so long getting lost in the talents of wizards that he sometimes forgets muggles have talents and hobbies, too. there are creatives in the world who can create emotions from such small things. there are people outside the world of magic and wizardry who can do magical things, too.

he has the evidence in his hand.

---

he keeps the evidence in his hand all throughout the year.

he comes back to it after particularly stressful classes to remind himself that not all is bad; that’s the magic these poems and essays have on him. he could probably recite each one word for word, but he never does, because they belong to him now. he’s claimed them as a comfort blanket, something he needs to get through the day. he’s found an addiction within these words that he can’t let go of, not just yet, not until he figures out who wrote them.

and that’s really all it boils down to - he wants to put a face to the mind that created the world he so desperately wants to share.

it’s a tuesday afternoon in feburary when blaise asks him about the book.

“are you ever gonna share what’s in that notebook you keep carrying around?”

the question startles draco. he thought he was being so subtle. he hardly ever brings the notebook out to face the light of day, only ever reading it behind the curtains of his poster bed in the dorms.

nonetheless, he doesn’t deny it’s existence. he doesn’t want to sound stupid.

he pokes at the vegetables on his plate and, without looking up, mumbles, “not really any of your business, is it?”

blaise scoffs. “alright, be like that then. you carry that thing around like a little girl and her secret diary.”

“are you trying to tease me, blaise? because you just sound stupid.”

blaise rolls his eyes; he’s one of the few people that don’t get properly offended when malfoy fails to bite his tongue.

“and anyway,” draco continues, “i don’t carry it around. it stays in my bed.”

“oh, really?”

“yes, and that’s where it’s staying.”

“so is it yours, or did you take it from someone?”

draco pauses. “it’s mine.”

“i’ve never seen you write in a notebook before. not even in class.”

draco shrugs; he hasn’t got a very good answer to that, because the statement is true. he tends to get others to write his notes for him when he can get away with it.

blaise sighs. he leans back in his seat, folding his skinny arms across his chest. “so are you a poet now? some kind of shakespeare?”

draco raises a brow. “some kind of what?”

blaise waves a dismissive hand. “it’s a muggle thing. just answer the part you understood.”

“i’m not a poet,” draco grumbles. “the poems in the book aren’t even mine. i found it when i was in the library a few months back, and thought it was interesting.” he shrugs like it’s no big deal, like this notebook has always just been a background prop in his everyday life. “it’s stupid, really. muggle stuff.”

“so why are you so obsessed with it?”

“i’m not obsessed!” draco’s grip tightens on the edge of his chair; he’s tired after a long day of quidditch practice, and honestly, he doesn’t want to deal with his friends bullshit any longer than he has to. “now, blaise, can you start minding your own business before we have some issues?”

that shuts blaise right up. together, they eat the remainders of their dinners before draco excuses himself and leaves the table. his mind is reeling, heart thumping both with embarrassment and annoyance; he knows he’s popular amongst the slytherins. in a way, he asked to be centre of attention when he started mouthing off about the importance of the malfoy household all those years back, but it’s frustrating that he can’t even do a bit of light reading without getting asked about it. he thought he was being so subtle, keeping the curtains closed every time he read, never taking the notebook from the confines of the dorms, never uttering a word about it to-

his shoulder crashes into yours.

“shit.”

draco stumbles back, catching himself on the wall. he’s too dazed to say anything, but his anger is rising, and he’s prepared to start yelling-

but then he opens his eyes and sees you there, fumbling with a pile of posters that have spilled across the glossy corridor floor. draco blinks, glancing from you to the posters and back again.

“i’m so sorry,” you mumble. “so sorry. i knew the pile was too high, but hermione had to go to-”

“why don’t you just-” draco flicks his wand. immediately, the posters gather in a whirlwind and fly into his outstretched arms, a neat little stack, good as new.

you look up, dazed. your eyes are gorgeous, plagued with evidence of exhaustion, but riveting nonetheless. draco recognises you only vaguely, and the few memories he has of these quick glimpses have never left him dissatisfied.

“oh,” you say after a moment. “right. spells. magic. i forgot about that.”

draco narrows his eyes.

you stumble to your feet, wiping trembling hands on your robes. it leaves a streak of dirt against the black, and that’s when draco sees the red and gold lining of house gryffindor.

“sorry,” you repeat. “i mean, thank you, for - like - helping me. i completely forgot i could just-” you swish your hands in a mock gesture of wand-movement before laughing awkwardly. “weird, right? that i would - uh - forget that in a school of magic. when i’m a wizard. ha ha.”

draco nods, because he really has nothing to say. he can’t keep his eyes off you, your awkward movements, the way you don’t even flinch at the sight of him. most gryffindor’s would be hurling insults at him by now - hell, he would be hurling insults at the gryffindor’s, too, but his words are caught in his throat and he can’t even properly function.

so he looks down at the pile of posters in his arms.

“CREATIVE WRITING 101!”

you snatch the first poster off the pile as if that will stop draco from reading it. “it’s nothing. something stupid, really.”

he looks at you again. “you like creative writing?”

you shrug.

“that’s such a muggle hobby to have. where’s the fun in it?”

and for the first time this entire meeting, you scowl. you hastily snatch the posters out of draco’s arms, struggling to keep them neat and tidy in your own, but when draco raises his wand to help you out a second time, you swat his hand away and say, “i don’t need your help.”

“you’re going to drop them again-”

you’re already backing away. “you don’t need to come, you know. me dropping these in front of you wasn’t a bloody invite.”

draco blinks. “i didn’t mean it like-”

you run a hand through your hair, nearly stumbling over your own shoes yet again. draco lunges forward in his attempts to catch you, but you yell something incoherent in his direction, apologise profusely to a first year you nearly elbow in the nose before you turn on your heel and head back the way you came.

draco stares at your retreating form, unable to fully comprehend what he did wrong. he doesn’t think he said anything offensive, let alone anything that would prompt you to nearly wipe yourself out in your attempts to get away.

but then again, he isn’t really sure why he cares.

----

it’s weird how - after one brief meeting - you suddenly appear at every corner draco takes.

he never noticed you in his potion’s class before, but now he can’t avoid you. you sit at the back, a pen lodged between your teeth, brows furrowed together; despite your eventful meeting with draco only a few days prior, you don’t seem to have nearly as much interest in his sudden presence as he has with yours. he keeps glancing at you, not-so-subtly turning in his chair every now and then just to make sure you’re not some kind of illusion. nobody in the classroom is acting like anything is out of place, so maybe you have been his classmate for a while, and he just never noticed.

he finds that a little hard to believe, but he has to take reality as it comes to him, or else he’ll go insane.

he doesn’t talk to you for nearly a week, because he’s a little afraid of what you’ll have to say. he’s a little afraid you’ll say nothing at all, that you might have forgotten who he is entirely.

it’s you who makes the first move.

it startles draco nearly out of his skin. he’s packing up his stuff, ignoring goyle’s ramblings to his left, when you slip your hand in his robe pocket. he jumps, spinning around just enough to dislodge your grappling fingers, and he’s seconds away from whipping out his wand to hex you when he freezes, eyes meeting your own, heart immediately plummeting into his stomach.

you smile, wide and polite. “hello, old friend.”

“can you get out of my pockets?” draco hisses, swatting your hand away when you make another attempt to dive into his robes. “what do you want?”

“a pen,” you reply. “i broke mine.”

“i don’t have a pen.” he reaches into his pocket and pulls out his quill. “i have a quill.”

“aaaah, my bad.” you snatch the instrument from him before grabbing his hand. he yelps, stumbling a little bit. he beams bright red when the noise he just made actually registers in his head, and he makes a mental note to scold goyle for snickering behind him.

“what are you doing?” draco demands. he tries not to get too flustered at the height difference between you - your head could very easily rest in the crook of his neck, and he hates that he kind of wants to experience what that feels like.

you scribble words into his palm. “this is the time and place for the creative writing clubs first meeting.”

draco blinks. “what?”

“time and place for the-”

“why do you want me to go?”

you scowl, not once looking up from the jagged lines of draco’s palm. “i don’t, but hermione’s asked me to gather as many people as i can find, and i think you kind of owe me one after being so rude the other day in the hallway.”

draco falters; so you remember.

“i wasn’t being rude at all,” he grumbles. “you’re just sensitive.”

“maybe.” you drop his palm and shove his quill back in his pocket. “if you want to come, be my guest; it’s going to be a lot of fun. lots of - uh - writing and stuff, i can assure you.”

draco scowls. “i won’t be going.”

“okay.”

“so this entire conversation was pointless.”

you fold your arms over your chest, as if challenging him. “okay, draco. i’m not forcing you to come if you don’t want to, but - you know - i’ll save you a seat or whatever.”

and draco doesn’t understand why that is the promise that tears him down, why that is the thing that makes his mind up for him. even as he gives you no solid answer, he knows he now has plans automatically built into his schedule to see you again, no matter how much he dreads the thought of it.

he looks down at the writing on his palm, and his heart stops.

just for a second. a brief moment of death, before life is pushed back into him when his brain kicks into overdrive and he’s certain he’s going to pass away for real with how fast his heart is suddenly beating.

he blinks rapidly. goyle is saying something, and the students are filtering out, but draco is lost, lost, spiralling as he recognises the messy scrawl, smudged even though it shouldn’t be, messy but coherent, familiar and amazing.

he’s read heaven written in this exact same handwriting. he’s read heaven, and hell, and earth, and space, and the moon, and the stars, and he’s experienced an entire new existence written in this very handwriting. it’s the same handwriting that covers every single page of his sacred notebook, hidden in his pillow case back at the dorms. it’s the same handwriting that gives a form to the aches and pains and anxieties of the person who has just walked away from him, the person who’s brain draco has lived in since christmas.

----

“you’re actually going?”

“it’s the least i can do.” draco fixes the collar of his robes, ruffles his hair a little bit. “i did nearly wipe them out in the hallway a few days ago.”

“that was an accident.” pansy throws herself across draco’s bed, as she often does when she wants the attention he has never given her. he simply glares at her reflection through the mirror, silently willing her to get up and leave so he can set off for the history of magic classroom in which the creative writing club is meeting tonight.

pansy, however, doesn’t take the hint.

“i just think this y/n person is trying to get in your head,” she continues. “your head, your bed, all of the above...”

draco’s face warms. “you can think whatever you want, pansy, but i’m going whether you like it or not. in case you’ve forgotten, you have absolutely no say in the way i live my life.”

pansy rolls onto her stomach, tugs on the back of draco’s robes. “oh, you’ve made that very clear, malfoy. don’t come running back to me when you show up to this stupid muggle club and get ostracised for being who you are.”

draco clenches his jaw, stepping out of pansy’s reach all without turning round. he knows she’s right, of course - there is no doubt in his mind that he is going to show up tonight, only to be met by the usual hostile glares he gets from everybody outside the slytherin house. he brought it upon himself, and he knows that - but he’s trying to fix it. he’s trying to prove himself as a good person to you.

to the world. not just you.

he swallows and turns. pansy stares up at him, hands curled beneath her chin, that sleezy little smile on her face. draco grimaces, points to the door and says, “the girls dorms are up the other staircase.”

pansy’s smile falls. she scowls, stands up and leaves without another word. draco doesn’t care that he’s pissed her off - pansy, in recent months, has become a little bit too much. he’s given her the most wiggle room he can provide, and she has done nothing but bombard him further.

he shakes the thought of his friend from his mind as he walks over to his bed and digs around in his pillow case. inside, he finds the poetry book he so desperately cares for, flicking to a page he has marked; he’s highlighted a few passages, and he reads them over as he steadies his breathing. this is such new territory for him. if his father finds out what he’s up to right now, he’ll be getting a very stern speaking to, possibly even a back-hand to the face if his father is in a particularly bad mood.

but then draco remembers your expression, your hand digging around in his pocket, your stumbled words that somehow manage to pull together so beautifully when you want to express yourself.

he has to see you tonight, whether it’s in a creative writing club or not. he’ll take just running into you in the hallway again, but to reach that point, he has to actually leave the dorms.

he stuffs the book back into his pillow case, flattens a particularly frustrating strand of hair, and walks out the door.

---

the history of magic classroom is dimly lit.

draco has seen pictures of muggle poetry readings before; they kind of remind him a little bit of exorcisms, and the set-up he’s currently walking into is no exception.

there’s candles lit upon every desk, the lights dimmed to create some kind of ambience that draco doesn’t understand. people are sat in a circle - people in every colour of robe, though draco is the only slytherin, it seems. this makes him a little nervous, and he hovers in the doorway, eyes tracing the scene in desperate search of you.

he spots you in a matter of seconds. you’re leaning over a candle, frowning into the flame like you can’t quite understand why it’s flickering like that.

draco makes a b-line for you.

you look up only when he’s by your side, and immediately your expression brightens. those eyes of yours widen a little bit, a smile adorning your face. you straighten up, grab draco’s arm, and he’s certain he’s going to explode.

“you made it!” you exclaim. “i can’t believe you actually came, mate; full of surprises, you are.”

draco frowns, feigning frustration, like this is something he went out of his way to attend. “why are you staring at the flame so intensely?”

“i’m staring at the flame so intensely-” you put on a pompous british accent, just to tease him, and draco doesn’t mind, “-because apparently you can turn the flames a different colour with the right spell, but it’s not working for me. watch.”

you elbow draco in the side, prompting him to shuffle over and give you more room. draco folds his arms over his chest, watching as you kneel down until your cheek is very nearly pressed against the desk. you point your wand at the flames and wave it, just once, but nothing happens. the flames barely even flicker.

you blow it out in frustration. “fuck that.”

draco laughs. he doesn’t know where it comes from, but it’s bursting out of him at the sight of your furrowed brows, and your pouting lips. you scowl at him, and it startles him how unsurprised you are to hear such a noise escape a man like draco malfoy.

draco shakes his head and nudges you to the side. “watch.”

you grab his wrist. “no. nope. absolutely not.”

“what? i’m gonna-”

“you’re gonna show me up, is what you’re gonna do, and i didn’t ask for it.” you pluck his wand from his fingers and stuff it back in his robes. draco has to fight the urge to shudder, your fingertips tracing across his ribcage as you fumble for his inside pocket.

you pull away then, shaking your head. “it doesn’t even matter, anyway; you show me up in every other class we have together.”

draco scoffs. “and i can assume you’re going to show me up tonight, so we’re even.”

you grin, because draco is right, and you both know he is right.

you make a bit more idle chat before the final people make an appearance, and you’re finally asked to sit down. draco is confused to see hermione granger being the leader of this group of creatives, as he’s almost certain he’s never read anything more beautiful than your work; surely you should be up at the front, guiding people through the craft of writing, a craft you have so brilliantly perfected.

draco sits beside you and says nothing. he fiddles with his fingers, coughing into his fist, rolling his eyes anytime someone makes a stupid suggestion. honestly, granger can talk forever, and draco is starting to get bored within the first ten minutes. all he wants is to hear you recite something, or for you to just. . . say anything about any of your pieces; draco could probably do it for you if that didn’t look creepy and uncalled for. he could stand at the front of this group and recite whatever piece of poetry he wanted from the notebook he took so long ago, and then maybe you’d get the recognition you deserve. maybe then you’d be able to share your potential instead of just sitting by draco’s side in a circle of poet-wanna-be’s.

finally, hermione turns her attention on you, however.

“y/n,” granger chirps. you jump, fumble with your wand, let it drop on the floor to roll beneath draco’s chair. he rolls his eyes and picks it up for you as you struggle to respond to hermione’s summons.

“uh, y-yeah? yes? did you ask me something?”

hermione’s brows furrow. “do you ever pay attention to anything i’m saying?”

“sometimes,” you reply, sheepishly. “definitely sometimes.”

hermione rolls her eyes. “anyway - i was just wondering if you’ve done any writing recently that you’d like to share.”

draco tenses. he flicks his eyes to his left to see you awkwardly ringing your hands in your lap, biting your lower lip.

“uh....”

“none?” hermione demands, eyes popping. “but i thought-”

“i’ve been a bit busy,” you grumble. “it’s not that big of a bloody deal, hermione, goodness me.”

“well, yes, i - i know that, but-” hermione gestures vaguely. “this is a creative writing club. i asked all of you to bring something with you. do you not even have an old piece of writing you could share with us?”

“nope.”

draco’s heart leaps. “what?”

and suddenly, all eyes are on him.

he slouches in his seat, but keeps his gaze on you. you stare back at him, eyes wide, clearly shocked at his contribution.

“you’ve got nothing?” he prompts.

you can’t even reply. you just stare, and draco knows he’s being confusing, is aware that maybe he should just shut his mouth. or, better yet, do everyone a favour and walk out before he says any more stupid things that will do nothing but embarrass both you and him.

“okay,” he grumbles, folding his arms over his chest. “okay, fine. that’s fine.” he looks up, meets hermione’s eyes. “you know what, granger, i don’t think this little club is my cup of tea. i’m going to head back to bed.”

hermione blinks. no one says anything when draco stands and walks out, but he expected nothing less. he wasn’t welcome there in the first place. he should never have even made an appearance. he should have stayed in bed and let his feelings fester until he fell asleep.

feelings are stupid anyway.

----

he ignores you.

in fact, he starts treating you how he treats everybody else - like they’re beneath him. a habit he once wanted to escape from has yet again become his comfort blanket, the thing shielding him from talking to you. every time you try making conversation, he sneers and walks off, barely even giving you the time of day.

in truth, he knows what happened is no big deal. everyone probably forgot about it as soon as he left the room, getting absorbed in their own works of poetry. however, draco knows you want to discuss it, that you probably want answers he is far too afraid to give you. if he starts explaining why he said what he said, he’ll have to talk about the notebook, and then you might ask for it back, and draco is selfish because he doesn’t think he can give it back just yet. it’s the only thing keeping him sane.

and so, he just ignores you.

he sits in potions and pretends you don’t exist. he walks past you at lunch and doesn’t even give you a smile. he looks over your head every time you stand to wave at him. he doesn’t want to risk any inkling of conversation trickling in between you.

pansy notices this, of course, but draco isn’t surprised. with how closely pansy has taken to watching over you and him, it would be more surprising to think she hadn’t caught on to the situation.

she sits beside him at lunch, slamming her tray of greens down just loud enough that a few heads turn - including your own. draco quickly snaps his eyes down to his plate, trying to pretend he wasn’t just staring at the back of your head.

“so,” pansy begins.

draco licks the stuffing from his fork.

pansy leans in, elbow hitting against his. “so. how did it go?”

“how did what go?”

“your little date with y/n! you never updated me on it!”

draco scowls. “that was days ago, pansy.”

“exactly. so now that i’ve got you trapped, you can fill me in on all the details.” she leans even closer, if that is possible. draco can smell the old woman’s perfume wafting from her robes and has to take a glass of water to quell the itch it summons to his throat. “y/n doesn’t look too happy with you, i’ll say that much. i sit behind them in care of magical creatures, and they’ve been awfully quiet since the club meeting; care to explain?”

“why is it any of your business?”

pansy grins. “because i told you someone like y/n wasn’t worth the trouble; a gryffindor, draco, really? were the robes not a big enough red flag for you?”

draco scowls. “first of all, pansy, y/n and i are just friends, and have always been just friends. i’m not doing anything to impress them.”

pansy scoffs, finally moving away to start spearing at her dinner with her fork. “how stupid do you think i am? how stupid do you think we all are? goyle doesn’t keep your little infatuation a secret, you know. he told us all about how close you and y/n get in potions together.”

draco’s grip tightens on his fork. “close isn’t really the right word.”

“the bickering? the way they make you laugh? the way you help them with their potions when they’re struggling so snape won’t tell them off? that sounds awful close to me, draco.”

he has no answer to that. his chest aches, memories of such delightful times flooding his mind and making him crave it all again. he remembers those times when he would glance over his shoulder to see you running your hands through your hair, struggling to comprehend what on earth snape has just ordered you to do; if it was anyone else, draco wouldn’t have given them the light of day, but seeing the fear in your eyes every time snape gave you even the briefest flicker of attention saw draco abandoning goyle to come save the day at your desk.

“so what went wrong?” pansy continues. “a lovers tiff?”

draco closes his eyes. “it was nothing, pansy; just me being an idiot again.”

pansy gasps, eyebrows shooting up her forehead. “you? being an idiot? and you’re openly admitting to it! goodness me, y/n must be a lot more skilled at magic than they let on, huh?”

“i don’t know what to do.”

it’s a plea. draco knows it’s a plea. in his heart, the cracks are beginning to form, and he can’t pretend any longer. he watches the back of your head - has been watching the back of your head since the meeting, because that’s the only glimpse of you he will let himself have. it hurts to see you laughing, smiling, slapping ron weasley on the arm. it shows you’re healing, moving on from your attempts to get draco to listen.

he’s ruined everything.

pansy leans forward. her voice is softer now, surprisingly kind. “draco, are you serious about this? i know i’ve been teasing, but do you actually like y/n in that way?”

draco bites the inside of his cheek. he remembers the times he had with you, how he used to laugh so freely with little care as to who heard. you teased him and made him feel normal, and he isn’t sure when his appreciation for you went past the poetry you wrote and emerged into you as a human being, but it’s happened, and he’s nodding to pansy’s question before he can think better of it.

pansy draws back, letting out a shaky breath. “wow, okay. . . this is definitely new territory for me. for you. i’m not sure how to go about it.”

“i took their notebook from them,” he mumbles.

pansy raises a brow. “their - their notebook?”

“y/n writes,” he explains. “beautiful things. addictive things, and i found their notebook in the library over christmas and i kept it for myself. i only found out it was theirs a few days ago, but. . . i never told them i have it. i got scared to.”

pansy pauses. draco’s never used that word in a sentence before. it sounds fake, like he’s made it up and just thrown it at the end of his sentence for the fun of it.

“well, that would be a good place to start, i think.”

his eyes snap up. “what?”

“give them their notebook back.” she says this like it’s obvious, raising her brows. “it’s a good way to start a conversation, and once the conversation’s been breached, you can go on to explain everything else - it’s pretty simple when you get your head around it, draco.”

he blinks. it does make sense, but again, there comes that burning protectiveness he can’t seem to shake.

selfish, selfish, selfish.

he glances over at the gryffindor table. you’ve got your head thrown back again, laughing so loudly and so carefree that draco’s heart trembles because he isn’t the one making you laugh like that. it’s ron. it’s harry. it’s everyone who thinks he’s an awful human being, bringing joy to the one person who’s ever seen him as decent. they’ve probably told you a joke about how draco’s scum, how he’ll never amount of anything, how he claimed his spot at the top purely because of his father.

fury pools in the pit of draco’s stomach. he spears his food with his fork, pushes away from the table and walks out of the dining hall before giving pansy an answer as to whether he simple plan is one he’ll actually take into consideration.

but now that he’s storming through the halls towards the slytherin common room, he knows it’s not something he can just consider. he can never move on with you with your notebook stuffed in his pillow case. he needs to be honest, and he needs to apologise, and these are all things he struggles with greatly, but all things he needs to learn before he loses you for good.

---

the notebook hasn’t seen the light of day past draco’s dorm since christmas.

it feels weird carrying it so freely now, slowly making his way through the halls with it pressed against his chest, the spirals digging into his lower arm. people look at him, but nobody bats an eye at the notebook, and why would they? it’s not suspicious. most of them probably think it’s nothing more than a school notebook, used for taking notes in classes.

still, his anxiety runs at a million miles per hour. he wants to yell at anyone who even glimpses the tiny square peeking from over his arms. he wants to tell them it’s none of their business.

but he doesn’t. he keeps walking until he’s reached the gryffindor common room.

it’s just his luck that ron weasley is the one stood outside. the ginger lad spots draco immediately, and it’s reflex when draco scowls and says, “got nothing better to do, weasley?”

ron glares. “what are you doing here, malfoy? the slytherin common room is back the way you came.”

“good thing i’m not going to the slytherin common room.” he nods towards the portrait hole. “is y/n in there?”

ron pauses. “what do you want with y/n?”

“i need to talk to them.” he swallows before gently unravelling the notebook from his arms. “i accidentally grabbed this in potions - i need to give it to them.”

“right, give it here then.” ron reaches for it, and draco stumbles back. he stumbles, not even bothering to swat ron’s hand away as pure panic seizes him. ron pulls back hastily, eyes widening at draco’s response.

draco, through gritted teeth, says, “just go get y/n for me, will you?”

ron stares at him a second longer before turning on his heel and walking back into the gryffindor common room. draco tries calming himself down in the minutes it takes for ron to reappear with you at his side.

the attempts are futile.

the minute he lays eyes on you, his heart starts thundering in a way that confuses him to no ends; he shouldn’t feel like this over someone so ordinary, and in truth, that’s what you are. you’re a student, just like him, struggling through school life, just like him. you go about your day in almost the exact same way as he does, and yet he’s never before felt so intrigued by another individual.

when your eyes meet his, you don’t smile. you don’t even look surprised. you grip the front of your night gown, glaring at him, not saying a word in greeting; draco’s mouth has gone dry, however, and saying anything is the absolute last thing on his mind when you’re standing in front of him, hair a mess, more beautiful and casual than he’s ever seen you.

ron is the one who has to break the silence. “he said he’s got a notebook for you.”

draco inhales sharply, suddenly remembering the artefact clutched in his hands. your eyes drift to it, and for a moment, you look puzzled. your eyebrows scrunch together, head tilting a little before you say, “that’s mine?”

draco thrusts it in your direction. “please take it.” he turns to ron. “and you - please leave.”

ron looks offended, looking at you for back-up, but your eyes are peeled on the notebook, not paying even the slightest bit of attention to ron. in the end, the weasley man rolls his eyes and stalks back into the gryffindor common room, leaving the corridor empty besides you and draco.

and draco feels every sliver of tension like it’s been injected into his bone marrow. flashes of his behaviour play on loop in his brain, the way he ignored you, the amount of times he scowled at you every time you tried speaking to him; he never meant any of it, of course, considering you’re the most fascinating person he’s ever come across, but he did it anyway, and that’s what he has to patch up.

somehow, he has to patch this up.

he looks to the floor, tucking the notebook back against his chest when you don’t take it from his hands. the silence is crushing, but draco has absolutely no idea what to say to fill it in - pansy made this all sound so easy; he would hand you the notebook, and a conversation would immediately stem from that.

but no. draco’s mind has gone completely blank, and you still look furious, and neither of you are doing anything to resolve the mess he has made.

finally, however, draco can’t take it any more. “i found your notebook.”

“yeah. ron said.” you pluck it out of his arms. “where did you even find this? it’s so old.”

“in the library.”

“the library? what was it doing there?”

draco shrugs. “how would i know that?”

“considering you’re the one who stole it-”

“i didn’t steal it. i just didn’t know who it belonged to.” a lie. he shouldn’t be lying. that’s a bad way to go about things. “i mean, i took it back to my dorm with me, kept it safe, but - like - i was of course going to give it back once i figured out who the owner was.”

you hum. “i’m sure you were.” you flick open the pages, immediately spotting a passage draco has highlighted in bright orange pen. “you tabbed it?”

he shrugs. “sometimes i read it when i got bored.”

“i should be angry at you for that, you know - that’s a big invasion of privacy.”

“yeah. you should be.” he looks up sheepishly. “are you?”

you pause, eyes continuing to drift over the pages of your own work, work you haven’t seen or reread since at least christmas time. you don’t look impressed, or angry, or anything at all, really. you just read the lines and nod, as if taking inventory.

then, you look up and say, “i’m more angry at the way you’ve been treating me this past week.”

draco wilts. he knew it was coming, that this was the main source of hostility for the both of you, but he really thought the presence of the notebook would somehow buy him some time, maybe make this conversation a bit easier.

you snap the notebook closed, shoving it into the pocket of your night gown. “you didn’t even tell me what i did wrong!”

“you didn’t do anything wrong!”

“then why were you acting like that? why couldn’t you just talk to me?”

draco squeezes his eyes closed, trails his hands through his hair, tries to calm down before he says something he’ll immediately regret. “you know, it’s a lot more complicated than you’re making it out to be.”

you pull back, puzzled. “how is it complicated? you’re nearly eighteen years old, draco! it shouldn’t be complicated to talk to someone when you’re mad at them!”

“ i wasn’t mad at you! i thought you were mad at me!”

you throw your head back and laugh, and this is the very noise draco has been craving for days, but he doesn’t want to hear it now, not here, not in this context. you’re not taking him seriously. you’re not listening.

“this is the stupidest thing i’ve ever heard,” you cackle. “is this about the fucking club meeting? you think i gave a shit about what you said?”

draco shakes his head. “again, love, it’s not as simple as that.”

“then explain it to me. explain to me what the hell was going through your head to make that switch flip so suddenly.”

something inside draco snaps, a string he didn’t even realise was being pulled so taut.

“do you wanna know what’s been going through my head recently?” his voice drops, your expression faltering. “it’s that fucking notebook of yours. it’s been all i can think about for weeks, because i can’t wrap my head around the idea of you being the author of those poems.”

you blink. “w-what?”

“you’re so carefree. you’re so. . . so you, y/n, and it seems impossible to me - unfathomable! - that you could be thinking such harrowing thoughts and not a single person has picked up on it besides me - and i’ve only done so by complete accident.” he inhales, runs a hand through his hair. “i’ve read your poems a thousand times over, and even though i know they came from you, i still can’t put your face to the words. i still can’t figure out how on earth you and that notebook are related in any way, and it’s been driving me insane. i want to help you, and it’s driving me insane.”

again, you blink. the corridor goes quiet. draco’s breathing slows, stabilises, and he has no idea what he’s just said, or if any of it makes sense, but there is a weight off his chest that provides such a great amount of relief he wants to cry.

finally, you swallow. your knuckles protrude from your hand with how tight your grip on the notebook is. your eyes stray to the ground, throat bobbing, mouth opening for just a second before you seem to think better of it and go silent again.

draco takes a step back. “look, you can have it back,” he says. “i don’t want it any more. i don’t - i don’t need it any more. but i just want you to know i’m sorry, and i never wanted to hurt your feelings. i was just. . . feeling things, and it wasn’t normal for me, and i got scared.” he raises his hands in mock surrender, taking another step back. “feel free to never talk to me again. i’ll understand.”

he waits for another second. hope springs to his chest, hope that you will tell him not to go, that you’ll forgive him on the spot and the two of you can live happily ever after, but it doesn’t work that way. you meet his eyes and nod, before turning on your heel and heading back into the gryffindor common room.

---

“how did you mess that up again?”

draco presses his knuckles into his eyes, as if pushing goyle’s words out of his brain. he should never have told the other slytherin about his encounter with you, but goyle was the first person on the scene, and malfoy just lost control; he needed to rant to someone. he needed to get it off his chest.

and it seems now goyle has suddenly developed a perfect memory, as two days after the meeting in the corridor, he has not let the subject drop.

the two sit together in defence against the dark arts; their teacher has long since left the classroom in search of some more work sheets for them to get cracking with, and the class has erupted into an expected chorus of conversations. draco wants nothing more than to put his head on the table and ignore the world, take this break as a chance to catch up on some of the sleep he has been robbed of these past few weeks, but goyle doesn’t let him go that easily.

the bigger boy leans over and taps draco on the back of the head. “come on, man, talk to me. there’s got to be something we can do.”

“there is nothing,” draco barks through gritted teeth. “and i’m sick of repeating myself, goyle, so shut your trap before i shut it for you.”

goyle sighs, leaning back in his seat. “so y/n just. . . didn’t even say anything? they just walked off without a word?”

“they did, which i took as a clear sign they never want to see me again.”

“do you not think you might be looking too deeply into that reaction?”

draco glares, eyes bloodshot, probably more terrifying than they have ever been. “tell me where on earth i could have looked too deeply.”

goyle shrugs. “well, you did admit to spilling this massive, emotional speech over them in the middle of the night - maybe they just didn’t know what to say at the time. i bet if you go up to them now and ask for a follow-up conversation, they’d be more than willing to sit down and discuss everything.”

“there’s nothing to discuss. i said everything i wanted to say, and y/n rejected me - i’m man enough to take it at face value and move on.”

a lie, of course, but draco just wants goyle to shut up. he wants to continue sulking on his own, because that’s what he does best. he doesn’t need friends patting him on the back, trying to cheer him up. he knows he’s messed up, and he’s willing to suffer in solitude for his stupidity.

“i’ve just never seen you act like this around anyone.”

draco’s head snaps up. “what do you mean?”

but he knows exactly what goyle means, because goyle is telling the truth. nobody has ever made draco this stupid. nobody has ever plagued his mind like this, and it’s driving him insane.

goyle folds his beefy arms across his chest. “i’m not saying it’s a bad thing, draco; sometimes it’s nice to see you unravel a little bit. god knows you’ve had a stick rammed up your ass for long enough.”

draco rolls his eyes. “well, there’s no point in dwelling on it; nothing is going to happen. whatever friendship y/n and i had is gone, and i’m just gonna have to accept it.”

goyle scowls, but draco pays him no attention. instead, he goes back to idly tapping his pen against his bottom lip, trying desperately to put his own words into play. he just needs to get over you. he needs to go back to the cold hearted, uncaring wizard he was raised to be, because that was the only version of himself that never got hurt. he never let himself get hurt. it’s strange how you walk into his life, and suddenly that entire side of him is being stripped away, replaced by this oversensitive, overthinking, annoying piece of shit who suddenly relies on someone else to get them through the day.

draco hates it, but he hates the idea of not having that even more.

----

“so are you going to tell me why y/n won’t talk about you?”

draco looks up, his scowl a reflex when he makes eye contact with ron weasley. he stands over him, arms folded over his chest, wearing a set of school robes with little burn marks pecked into the material; draco has half a mind to tease him for it, before finding he has absolutely no energy to do such a thing right now.

instead, he leans back against the tree he has been sat under, gazing at the sky as mountains of homework piles up in his dormitory - piles of homework he has yet to touch, because every time he tries focusing his mind on a single task, it veers off and he can’t do anything.

ron raises a brow at draco’s silence. “no? you’re both gonna keep your mouths shut?”

“i don’t see how it’s any of your business.”

“no, of course you don’t.” and then, ron does the most surprising thing - he slumps down next to draco, their shoulders clicking. “i’m gonna take a wild guess and say you fucked things up again.”

draco swallows, closing his eyes. “again, none of your business, weasley.”

“good answer. it makes perfect sense now.” ron nudges his arm. “what happened?”

and draco knows it’s out of character. of all the people he could rant to, ron weasley should - and always has been - the absolute last on his list, but he looks at ron and he’s reminded that he is your friend, that ron makes you laugh, and he’s probably cheered you on during this uncomfortable time with draco. with that knowledge comes a sense of warmth, a gratefulness he’s never felt before, one he doesn’t completely understand.

but he leans into it, because he’s too tired to fight it off. with his cheek pressed against his knees, he tells ron the whole story, from start to finish. he goes back as far as christmas, that god-forsaken day in the library when he wanted nothing more than to enjoy a nice bit of light reading whilst he ignored the rest of the students downstairs, how peeves had dropped that notebook on his head, and he’d grown attached to it, rereading the poems every day until the day he had to surrender it back to you.

“sounds quite stalkerish,” ron comments.

draco scoffs. “it does, doesn’t it?”

ron sighs, shifting slightly. in the distance, a group of first years run screaming away from the whomping willow. a stone gargoyle shakes its winds atop the astronomy tower. such beautiful sights, and yet draco can’t feel a thing.

“okay, look,” ron says. “don’t get any of this twisted, alright? i still hate you. more than i thought humanly possible.”

“cheers.”

“but, i care about y/n. a whole lot. they’re like family to me. they’ve been miserable these past few days, and it’s starting to take a toll on me. so, i’m here to give you a bit of advice.” he turns, leans in, lowers his voice. “don’t give up so easily.”

draco jerks away. ron snickers, leaning back against the tree, gazing out at the green grass without a care in the world; draco, however, is stunned, heart racing though he doesn’t even know why. those words just hold so much hope, a hope he hasn’t let himself feel since it happened. he was slowly coming to terms with the idea of never talking to you again, and here ron weasley walks into the scene, ruining everything - like always.

draco splutters, swallows, pulls himself together. “w-why do you say that?”

“i thought it was obvious, mate,” ron replies. “y/n clearly has a soft spot for you. god only knows why, but that’s neither here nor there. all i care about right now is the fact they’ve been moping around for days, not even laughing at my jokes or anything. it’s getting exhausting when all you need to do is talk, and this entire thing could be resolved.”

“it’s not as easy as that.”

ron raises a brow. “oh? and why not?”

draco opens his mouth to respond, because he’s certain he has one. however, when he thinks about it, there really isn’t a decent answer to that question; he’s young, dumb, embarrassed. he stole your notebook, gave it back, confessed his feelings and then fled the scene - the only reason he hasn’t spoken to you since that fateful day is because he doesn’t want to bring up his own embarrassing gestures ever again. the quicker he buries them, the better.

but at the cost of you? maybe he should rethink it.

ron laughs. he stares at the side of draco’s face, pure amusement dancing across his features. draco scowls, because that’s what draco always does when he sees even the slightest flicker of joy on the weasley boys face; it’s become routine by now, even if he doesn’t feel the same contempt he’s so used to.

“it’s bizarre, isn’t it, that i’d be the one giving you relationship advice,” he says.

“it’s bizarre you’re helping me out at all, to be honest.”

“i’m not as heartless as you like to think i am, malfoy.” he stands, wiping his hands down his robes, smearing muck on the already dirty cloth. “if anyone asks, we were arguing and i won.”

draco blinks. “thank you, weasley. i mean it.”

ron rolls his eyes. “i’m sure you do. now never speak to me again.” he turns on his heel and strolls back down the hill without a second glance in draco’s direction.

----

draco’s heart is going to burst from his chest.

he’s been in this state far too often these past few weeks. he wants it to stop. he wants to go back to a life where he didn’t have a care in the world, where he owned this school, where he had the confidence that has carried his family name for decades.

the only way he’s going to reach that point again is by sorting things out with you.

or at least letting you know how he feels, because he can’t deny any of it any more. he can’t go around pretending you mean nothing to him. no, he still can’t explain where these feelings came from, if they started with the poetry and grew, or if they started that very day he laid eyes on you in first year and thought you were the prettiest one of his lousy classmates. he can’t explain any of it, but he doesn’t need to try. he doesn’t need to go as far back at that. all he needs to do is talk to you, let you know that you have changed him in very scary ways, and then he can move on. no matter your reaction, he can move on.

at least, that’s what he tells himself as he walks through the school corridors in search of you. it’s already getting dark, the january days lasting what seems like only a handful of minutes. students are flooding from their last classes of the day, and it’s only when draco spots a gryffindor bustling through the crowd does he stop.

he grabs the unsuspecting student by the arm, not even surprised nor offended by his look of pure disgust. draco simply grins, because that’s reflex for him, before saying, “have you seen y/n l/n anywhere?”

the boy furrows his brows. “i saw them talking to filch when i was walking to class. what do you want with them?”

draco raises a brow; talking to filch? what could you possibly want with argus filch of all people?

draco shoves the gryffindor away, thanking him with a nod before he turns and starts towards the caretakers office. he’s never been there before, mainly because he’s never wasted his time trying to hold a decent conversation with the caretaker, but he finds it in good enough time - an ordinary brown door, decorated only with the name ‘argus filch’ written across it in what looks like normal, muggle sharpie pen.

draco racks his knuckles against it, uncertain if he’s doing any of this right. in all his years at hogwarts, he’s seen filch in his office only a handful of times, and even if he just happens to be in his office now, what will draco even ask him? what he was talking to you about? if he somehow knows where you went after the conversation was over?

he waits there, however, because he has no other leads, and he needs to talk to you. he needs to get this over with, or else he won’t be able to sleep, and he can’t afford to be groggy during quiddith practice; he’s been performing bad enough these past few weeks, and if he can just get this off his chest-

the door swings open.

it isn’t filch.

“argus, i promise i’ll be done in-”

you pause. your eyes widen. your mouth snaps closed, grip tightening on the door frame, and draco is certain he’s going to explode at any moment.

“y/n.”

your name is a whisper, barely audible over the sound of his racing heartbeat. he doesn’t even know if he said it, or maybe it was just a thought. at this moment in time, the two things are interchangeable.

“draco.” you swallow, shuffle awkwardly, look to the floor in a rare look of timidity. “w-what are you doing here?”

“i was looking for you.” he speaks fast, like he’s running out of time, and maybe he is. maybe you’re only giving him a few seconds before the memories flood back and you slam the door on his face, ruining his chances once and for all. maybe you think his attempts are idiotic, embarrassing, and you’re only letting him talk out of pity.

but you don’t slam the door on his face. not at all. you stand there, looking more beautiful than draco has ever seen you, even though nothing has really changed.

draco swallows, curling his fingers into fists. “someone told me you - you were in here.”

your eyes snap up. “i didn’t tell anyone where i was. that was kind of the whole point.”

draco nods like he understands, because part of him kind of does - hiding away, pretending you are the only person to exist. it’s a comfort sometimes.

“what do you want, draco?”

and just like that, everything he wanted to say is swept from his brain.

you fold your arms over your chest, one foot tapping rapidly against the floor. “d-did you have anything to say to me?”

you almost sound hopeful.

“ron told me not to give up so easily.”

you pause.

draco rushes on, because he knows he hasn’t done this right. he’s gone so far off script, and he hasn’t even got to the main point of his argument.

“i don’t listen to weasley - ever. quite frankly, his advice is usually more detrimental than helpful, but - but he told me earlier to come find you. he told me you weren’t doing so good-”

“ron-”

“and i don’t know if that’s true on your end, but it’s true for me.”

you blink.

draco exhales shakily, running a ringed hand through his hair. “i’m not doing so good, y/n. i don’t like the way we left things. i don’t like the fact that we left things at all. i should have explained myself a bit better, or come to you sooner, but you know how i am. god, you know how i am better than anyone else in the world, so please, please understand that i’m trying so hard to put my dignity aside to let you know how much i care about you.”

there is a silence. a silence so heavy that draco feels crippled beneath it, unable to do anything but wait in anticipation for a response he might not even deserve. he’s done so many things wrong - not just with you, but with life in general. he is a bad person, and he knows this, and he’s trying to change, because you don’t deserve a bad person.

you swallow. he watches your throat bob.

“i don’t know if i believe you.”

your words are a whisper, but they shatter everything around him like they were screamed at the top of your lungs.

he shakes his head dumbly, like that is answer enough. he wants to say something to argue his case, but his tongue feels heavy and a cloud has passed over his brain.

“draco, i don’t know if i believe you,” you correct, sounding almost desperate. “y-you treated me like shit for no reason. you took my notebook and didn’t give it back. you’re a dick to my friends-”

“i know,” he bursts through gritted teeth, like he is in physical pain. “y/n, i know. i know, and i’ve been beating myself up over it for weeks. but that’s what i do - that’s what i’ve always done. i play the victim card and blame everybody else for my wrongdoings, and it’s childish. i’m trying to stop. i’m really, really trying.”

you open your mouth to respond, but draco takes one look at the tears in your eyes and barrels on, suddenly desperate to dig himself further into the dirt.

“you know what? i don’t even know why i’m here. i’m sorry. i should just - i should just leave you alone and let you get on with your life. you and i were never meant to be together, and i just need to accept that and move on.” he can’t stop talking. he can’t stop hating himself. “i’m sorry, though. for everything i did to upset you. for every stupid thing i said or did - know i didn’t mean it. from the bottom of my heart, y/n, i would never hurt you. never. so that’s why i’m gonna go. i’m gonna leave you alone. i’m g-gonna support you in whatever you want to do in the future. as long as you’re happy.”

he tries for a smile, because that’s the way you’re meant to end these things, isn’t it? you smile, and you shake their hand or something, but draco can’t bring himself to do that, so he turns on his heel instead. he turns away from you, knowing this will be the last time, that there is absolutely no going back, no matter what horrible advice ron weasley gives him. he needs to get over you. he needs to let you go once and-

“draco.”

you grab his wrist and he stumbles. he stumbles because of your grip, but he stumbles, too, because his name on your lips will never get old. it’s music to him, music he never listens to because his father always said it was a waste of time. he basks in it, spinning around to meet your eyes, and his heart crumbles at the tears now rolling down your cheeks.

his own eyes widen. “y/n-”

“you’re so stupid,” you sob. “so fucking stupid, do you know that?” you wrap your arms around his shoulders, pulling him in for a desperate hug. you sob into his shoulder, and draco is frozen, hands hovering over the small of your back, unsure how to take this reaction. “you’re literally the most idiotic person i’ve ever met in my life. how is it you? how is it always you?”

draco blinks. “how is what always me?”

“everything!” you wail, hugging him tighter. “it’s just always you, draco. always.”

and draco still has no idea what you mean, but he’s learning to understand that maybe he doesn’t need to know what you mean all the time. maybe he just needs to be there for you to yell and cry and make no sense, and that will be enough.

he wraps his arms around your waist, nuzzling his head into the crook of your neck. he’s never been any good at hugs, but he’s melting into this one.

“idiot,” you whisper into his neck. “thinking i’m just gonna let you leave like that. . . thinking i don’t like you back. . . thinking i’ve stopped thinking about you for even a second these past few days. . .”

draco holds you tighter.

you pull away after a moment, quickly swiping your hand beneath your eyes. they are puffy now, red-rimmed, and draco knows he will have to explain this to ron in some way or the other without giving ron the benefit of knowing his advice might have actually been beneficial for once.

“i think we both messed up a little bit,” you mumble through sniffles, wiping your nose on your sleeve. “my reaction wasn’t exactly very helpful, was it?”

“well. . . no, but-” draco exhales. “i meant what i said, y/n; i never meant to hurt you. i would never do that.”

your smile trembles. draco has only a second to smile back before you’re throwing your arms around him again, pulling him in for a hug that he is getting strangely fond of.

----

your pen scratches against the paper. draco can’t sleep; he doesn’t really want to sleep, despite the hours of classes and quiddith practice he has to endure in a few hours time.

you never sleep. not really. draco is convinced you live entirely off caffeine and words, staying up into the early hours of the morning with that notebook of yours, your muggle pen darting back and forth over the pages. he scolds you for it sometimes, but he’s always smiling, and you always roll your eyes in response.

now, however, he has one arm thrown over your shoulders, watching you work. it’s already three in the morning, but he’s too enamoured to bother falling asleep; he’d rather stay up and watch you work.

“bic,” he says out of nowhere, shattering the hours of silence the two of you had collected.

you pause, looking up. your eyes are red-rimmed and bloodshot. draco smiles.

“what?”

“bic.” he nods at the pen in your hand. “that’s the name of your fancy muggle quill, isn’t it?”

you frown, taking another second to catch onto what he means, despite the clear explanation he has just given. however, it eventually dawns on you, and you frown even more.

“oh, right. yeah. bic. that’s the brand name.” you place it in draco’s hand. he holds it close to his face, squinting to read the tiny letters written in the plastic. “the best pens in the world, i’d say; much more practical than those bloody quills we have to use in class.”

“nothing wrong with our quills,” draco says, tilting the pen back and forth, examining every inch of it. “mine cost me a good lot of money.”

you scoff, snatching the pen back. “i’m sure it did. waste of a good lot of money, too, when you could have just bought a pack of twelve bic pens for a fiver.”

draco furrows his brows. “a fiver? what’s that in real money?”

you roll your eyes, smiling fondly, and it’s that very smile that has draco leaning forward to peck you on the lips. it takes you out of your work, which he knows will frustrate you in the morning when you wake up to see you didn’t get as much done as you might have liked, but for now, he doesn’t really care. not when you’re melting against him, dropping your dumb bic pen into the crease of your notebook so you can cling to him with both hands.

there are some days when draco thinks you love him only out of pity. he was the boy who lost himself to his feelings for you. he was the boy who came crawling back, the boy who was lost when he didn’t have you by his side. some days, draco has to ask you if you really want to be part of this relationship.

but then you go and kiss him like this, and he is left with no doubt that you’ve meant every single “i love you.” then you go and hold his hand at the gryffindor table, smile fondly at him as he bickers with your friends, and he knows this relationship is not a chore for you. maybe, if he lets himself hope, he can convince himself that you love him as much as he loves you.

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