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asthronauta · 6 months

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OLD PAIN, NEW HAPPINESS | Remus Lupin – Son! Male Reader.

Summary: Voldemort was back, and Remus was terrified. Not for him, but for his son, who insisted on associating with The Order of the Phoenix. Still, they had time to remind each other how much they loved.

Warnings: Fluff, a lot of fluff because this man deserves happiness. Some Angst (Remus' past, the wars, u know), Second Wizarding War, Reader's mother is not present because who needs a mother when your father is Remus Lupin, Reader and Remus are very affectionate, Remus being the dad I wish I had, idk I just love him so much. Enjoy!

Btw, english is not my first language so there may be some errors in my writing. I'm still learning!

Remus never really believed he would be a father. He was terrified of being one, actually. The possibility that his child could inherit his condition had distanced him from the idea. But, to his surprise, just a few years after finishing his studies at Hogwarts Remus already found himself with a son. It wasn't planned at all. Remus was terrified when he found out. [Y/N] had arrived at the worst time he could have arrived. Remus was struggling to support himself financially and the first wizarding war was beginning. It wasn't a good idea to add a baby to all that, a baby that Remus feared would inherit his condition. Remus didn't want it, he was terrified. He didn't even love the woman he had slept with. The moment he found out that [Y/N]'s mother was pregnant, everything seemed like a nightmare. But everything changed when he finally held his baby son in his arms for the first time. He was so small, so innocent, that Remus couldn't help but feel the immense need to protect him. To take care of that little being that was, in some way, a part of him. That was how Remus, with thousands of obstacles and full of fear, raised his son. On his own. Since when [Y/N] was born, his mother gradually distanced herself from his life. By the time [Y/N] could speak Remus no longer knew anything about her. And Remus didn't do anything to stop her either. The woman was not interested in her son, she did not give [Y/N] anything good, so she was better off away from their lives.

Years had passed and his son had become a teenager. To his relief, [Y/N] had not inherited lycanthropy from him. Remus lived every day in fear that perhaps one day his son would wake up and that horrible condition that had tormented him for so many years would now torment [Y/N] too. But that never happened. And his son was just a normal teenager, without any trace of lycanthropy in him. And Remus was completely pleased.

[Y/N] was, among other things, somewhat stubborn. And he had inherited that from him. So Remus had no one to blame but himself. When the dark times returned and the feared name began to resonate among the people again, [Y/N] was the only one of the minors who wanted to join the order with him. Remus flatly refused. He wasn't going to let his son get involved with such dangerous things. But Dumbledore, who seemed to find pleasure in going against Remus' wishes, had decided that [Y/N] should be in the order, along with Harry, Ron and Hermione. Remus was upset with that decision, but Dumbledore and [Y/N] himself were against him, and there wasn't much he could do. [Y/N] wanted to be in the order. [Y/N] wanted to help his father, and the cause. Although in Remus' opinion a boy like him shouldn't be worrying about such things (even though Remus knew perfectly well that he acted exactly like [Y/N] when he was his age. But when it came to his son it was different. His son's safety was the most important thing to him). Remus had no choice but to accept it, but he put many conditions in between. Because he wouldn't stand by and watch Dumbledore do whatever he wanted with his son. He would protect him, one way or another. Because it was his boy they were talking about. And Remus was, although he didn't like to admit it, somewhat -very- protective of him.

That was how Remus managed to accompany his son on all his missions. They weren't complicated things, this time [Y/N] had to get something from Dumbledore's vault at Gringotts. Father and son walked through the snow-filled streets, their feet making a satisfying noise every time they took a step. It was winter, the houses were covered in snow and people wore scarves that covered most of their bodies. It was a particularly cold winter. Even for Remus, who was a cold-tolerant person. They were both walking in silence when Remus heard [Y/N] sniffle, for what would be the fourth time in twenty minutes. Remus glanced at his son, noticing that his nose was red, probably because of all the times he had sniffled. [Y/N] was unsheltered for how cold it was, he was not wearing a scarf or gloves. And Remus could tell that his son was cold. Every little blizzard made the teenager shiver.

“What have I told you?” Remus said, stopping walking and turning to his son “You need to stay sheltered in cold weather like this.” His voice sounded somewhat stern, but he wasn't really angry. Although he remembered telling [Y/N] to make sure he dressed warmly before leaving the house. But he was just worried. His son was so focused on pleasing Dumbledore that he forgot to take care of himself. And that bothered Remus (although he didn't know if it bothered him more that his son was so absent-minded or that he so desperately sought Dumbledore's approval. Maybe he was a little jealous).

“Dad, I'm fine” [Y/N] said, sounding like the teenager he was. Trying to make light of the matter.

“I can see you shivering, [Y/N]” Remus said, pulling a handkerchief out of his coat pocket. “Let me see that nose.”

“I can do it on my own” [Y/N] said, taking the handkerchief and blowing his nose. Remus smiled, chuckling softly. [Y/N] looked like a stubborn little child, with the tip of his nose red. It reminded him of when [Y/N] was a little boy and used to catch colds in the winter. Remus could hardly help himself from stroking [Y/N]’s hair.

“There you go, there's a good boy.” He said and [Y/N] stuck his tongue out at him, Remus giggled. “I told you it was cold outside, why didn't you bring a scarf?” Remus said as he brushed some snowflakes out of [Y/N]'s hair.

“I didn't think it was that cold,” [Y/N] said and Remus sighed, but then smiled, amused. He just couldn't stay mad at his son.

“You are too stubborn to be my son.”

“Shut up” Remus let out a soft laugh, feeling the domestic atmosphere between them.

“Language, boy, you don't talk to your father like that” he said, smiling at him. “Here, I don't want you to catch a cold.” Remus took off his scarf, wrapping it around [Y/N]'s neck. [Y/N] let his father do it, because although he didn't want to admit it, he was freezing to death. The scarf was warm, and it smelled like his father. He buried his nose in it, enjoying the involuntary comfort it gave him.

“Thanks” [Y/N] said, a little more relaxed. Remus smiled kindly at him.

“You're welcome, son... Now, let's go, or we'll miss the train.” [Y/N] nodded, following his father. Walking close to him. Trying to somehow get some of the heat of Remus' body.

Luckily for [Y/N], the train arrived before his feet froze. He entered the train hurriedly, ahead of Remus, who giggled at his son's haste. The train was a bit empty so he sat in the first seat he found. Settling into it. Inside the train it was much warmer than outside, so it was a nice feeling. He looked out the window, thoughtful. Many things had been happening in his life, things out of his control, like the approaching war. He knew his father's past in the order, and everything he had done during the first war, and he didn't want to sit idly by. He didn't want to be left behind. He wanted to help, even in the smallest way. Even doing Dumbledore's stupid errands. [Y/N] wanted to be there, present. Doing at least something. He knew he shouldn't be worrying about such things, as his father had told him several times, but [Y/N], as stupid as it sounded, felt somehow destined to do something. His family, his father, were closely involved with Voldemort and the war. His best friend was the chosen one, for God's sake. [Y/N] had a much better chance of helping than anyone else, and he would.

[Y/N] seemed deep in thought, because he didn't notice Remus' gaze on him. Not until he turned around and saw his father smiling at him. He couldn't help but smile too. “What?”

“Nothing, I was just thinking what a handsome son I have” Remus said, a tinge of pride in his eyes. [Y/N] giggled, somewhat embarrassed. But he wouldn't shy away in front of his father.

“I got it from my dad” He said, and it wasn't a lie. He had seen photos of his father as a young man. “The casanova of Gryffindor tower, huh?” He teased, he remembered seeing writings from the marauders in his father's old notebooks calling him that. Remus' eyes widened slightly, he didn't expect that. Then his cheeks turned red and he giggled sheepishly.

“You got me, son” Remus said, feeling a little shy. “The Marauders and I used to give each other very curious nicknames.”

“Oh come on dad, don't be so modest”

Remus chuckled “Fine, fine, let's say that in my youth some considered me attractive” [Y/N] rolled his eyes, smiling. Sharing a giggle with his father. He remained smiling for a few seconds, but then his smile faded from his face. He sighed, getting closer to Remus snuggling against him, hiding his face in his father's neck. Remus put an arm around him, holding him close. Letting his son settle on him.

“What is it, my son?” he asked softly, stroking [Y/N]'s arm. Remus knew his son was worried, overwhelmed with everything that had been happening.

“Nothing…” [Y/N] said against his father's shoulder, closing his eyes and sinking into the warmth of his father's arms. Perceiving in his father's clothes the aroma of books and hot chocolate that reminded him so much of him. Trying to forget everything and become a child again. Without fear, without war, without the order. Just him and his dad. Remus understood that, and stopped insisting, knowing that [Y/N] would speak when he felt ready to do so. Remus nuzzled [Y/N]'s arm, burying his nose in his hair, leaving a moment of comfortable silence between them. After a few minutes, [Y/N] spoke again. “...I heard you arguing with Dumbledore” he said, without moving his face from his shoulder. Remus knew what he was talking about. That last week he had had many arguments with Dumbledore, it was to be expected that one of them would reach [Y/N]'s ears. Still, Remus felt bad that [Y/N] heard it. The discussion was about him after all. “I know you don't want me here... In the order” [Y/N] said and Remus sighed.

“It's not about you, son... You know I worry about you, about your safety... You shouldn't be involved in this” he said softly, his voice low. Talking to him gently, trying to make him understand. Remus really wanted his son out of all that. He was terrified that his son was involved in the war, fighting against those people, fighting against the man who had taken so many loved ones from him. “You don't know what you're getting into, [Y/N].”

“Yes I do.”

“No you don't” Remus raised his voice a little, but quickly lowered it again. “Listen, son, the war... It has brought a lot of pain in my life... I have lost so many friends, so many people I loved... And I don't want to lose you too.” Remus confessed, letting his son see a little of his vulnerability. The pain he has been carrying for so many years. And his fear of losing the only loved one he still had left; his son.

“...You're not going to lose me”

“You can't know that, [Y/N]” Remus said, somewhat sternly. He sighed “This is not a game, [Y/N], this man is… unpredictable, a murderer who would not hesitate to kill you if he must” He said softly, stroking [Y/N]'s hair. “I know you're brave, and too stubborn for your own good, and that you want to help... But believe me, son, when I tell you that war is horrible… You don't want to be part of this, you don't want to go through all the things I've been through.”

[Y/N] was silent for a moment, thinking. And then he looked up. “I really want to do this, dad… I know you're worried about me, I understand... But I feel like this is the right thing to do.”

Remus sighed “[Y/N]”

“No, listen… All my life I've known about the horrors of war... About all the people he killed and... About Uncle James... And if that happens again... if I can prevent that from happening... I think it's my duty to do it.” [Y/N] said, but Remus didn't look convinced “Dad please… You did the same as me, you know why I'm doing this.”

“That doesn't mean you should do it.”

“I know, but... I want to, dad, I want to be a part of this... I want to help.” [Y/N] looked at Remus with puppy dog eyes. “Besides, Dumbledore wants me here. And if he wants me here he must have reasons to do so.”

Remus snorted “Of course, because Dumbledore is amazing and has never made a stupid decision in his life.” Remus said sarcastically, not hiding the disgust in his voice. [Y/N] looked at him surprised and then giggled. Remus didn't often show his displeasure with people so openly, much less Dumbledore.

“You don't like him, don't you?” he said, amused. Remus sighed, his lips curling into a smile.

“Dumbledore is a great wizard, and he has done a lot for me and for the order, no one can deny that. But I have a few strong disagreements with the man. He's not as infallible as he thinks he is”. [Y/N] chuckled, he liked that side of his father. He moved closer to Remus again, snuggling against him. Remus kissed his hairline. “You're gonna be the end of me.”

“Probably” he smiled “...I love you”

Remus smiled, unable to stop a feeling of warmth from flooding his chest. A mix of happiness and nostalgia. Remus couldn't help but notice how much his boy had grown. How he almost couldn't fit in his arms anymore and how he now seemed to love going against him.

“I love you too, son.” He said, squeezing [Y/N]'s shoulder and pressing him against his chest. Resting his cheek on his son's hair. Enjoying the tranquility of the moment as the snow fell outside the windows and the train continued its journey.

Remus had a rough past. He had been bitten when he was just a boy. He had gone through a war. He had lost many loved ones. He hadn't been the luckiest person and his life had been tainted with a lot of pain along the way. His life had taken a turn when he found out that he would be a father, and that now he had to take care of someone other than himself. A small, fragile life that he thought he was too rough to take care of. How wrong he was. That little baby wrapped in blankets like a burrito had meant more to him than Remus ever believed. And now that baby was grown, and he argued with him like it was his favorite thing. As if he loved making him nervously worried. Remus loves and loved many people, but his son was his everything. The day [Y/N] was born meant a new beginning, where he would leave the pain of the past behind and give way to new happiness. A kind of happiness he had never felt before, a kind of love he had never felt before. One that would not erase, but would heal the wounds of past pain. Turning them into scars that one day he would learn to appreciate. Remus had a rough past, he was no stranger to pain. But neither to love.

#remus lupin x male reader #remus lupin x male!reader #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin #marauders x male reader #marauders x reader #harry potter x male reader #hp x male reader #x male reader #x male!reader #male reader #male!reader #male reader insert

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theonceandfuturequeenoftarts · 10 days

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Sometimes when Harry looks at Tom, he's reminded of a lesson one of his muggle teachers gave on reptiles. Chameleons that can change their skin colour to blend into their surroundings or anoles that shed their tails to distract a predator and escape – adapting in order to survive, no matter what it takes.

Harry is himself, to a fault. He spent so long beaten down and trying to disappear so he wouldn’t draw his relatives’ ire that he now refuses to hide or apologise for who he is and what he wants. It probably helps that his wants are pretty basic – good food, good friends, a warm, comfortable place to live, someone to love him – and that he inherited the money and name to easily achieve them.

Tom, on the other hand, is so used to being smoke and mirrors and disguising what he wants and what he is in order to pretend to be what others want or need.

He’d been unapologetically (and tyrannically) himself in his childhood, his magic giving him the power to exert his will over others. But Tom is brilliant and a quick learner, and his first interaction with Dumbledore, which he’d described late one night to Harry when the shadows hid both their faces, had proven a subtler touch might be needed.

Now, Tom reflects other peoples’ desires back at them in order to draw them in, and deflects the conversation away from himself so he never has to clearly define his own position. He doesn’t change himself, but everyone seems to believe Tom is on their side – that they’re on the same page. And because of his power and charm and good looks, everyone wants Tom on their side.

Harry has seen this happen many, many times, and he’s still in awe of how Tom affably manipulates those around him into doing what he wants. How Tom determines what someone wants, says just enough to convince them he does too without committing to anything, and twists that connection into a shape that best suits him.

In fact, the only reason Harry believes Tom actually likes him is because Tom never pretends to be what he thinks Harry wants him to be. Tom is petty and says cruel things and lets Harry see him when he’s less than perfectly put together. And Harry treasures each of Tom’s sharp edges, because he’s the only one who gets to see him as he is. He hoards each truth and preference that Tom chooses to share with him like a squirrel preparing for a long, hard winter.

The trouble comes when people talk to Harry about Tom. By virtue of association, Harry’s had to learn to deflect and prevaricate and lie, though he’s still not very good at it. He does a lot of nodding and smiling and making thoughtful “hmm” sounds as people ask him what Tom thinks of this or that. It’s easier than keeping Tom’s machinations straight in his head.

There are moments when Harry isn’t sure Tom even knows who he is at his core. He is so meticulous about his public persona that Harry doubts anyone else knows which foods Tom actually likes (given the chance, Tom would eat ice cream every day), or what he actually thinks about quidditch (he finds it unbearably dull), or what he thinks of muggles (he’ll never be fond of them due to his treatment as a child, but he doesn’t particularly care beyond that) or muggleborns (new blood is necessary for the magical world to continue, but the mages with the deepest pockets are the most bigoted and ‘traditional’) or purebloods (gullible).

And after the tenth meal of eating foods he doesn’t like, or the fifth quidditch match or ministry event or pureblood soirée in a week, or the nth political tapdance before the Wizengamot, pretending to represent everyone’s interests at once without alienating anyone – and quietly getting his own agenda voted through – Harry has to wonder how Tom stays sane. How it all seems worth it. It certainly doesn’t to Harry.

But that’s Tom. Ambitious to a fault, and willing to sacrifice almost anything in order to achieve his goals.

And whatever other people might think, Harry’s not naive. He knows there’s a chance Tom is lying to him, too. He knows it’s possible – even likely – that Tom figured out that the best way to get Harry on his side would be to give him the best illusion of the truth. Show him some darkness and Harry will believe he’s getting honesty. He’s made his peace with this and decided he’d rather give Tom the benefit of the doubt and be a fool than abandon the other man when he’d chosen to be vulnerable with Harry.

So, when Harry brings home Indian takeaway and offers Tom a bite of his rogan josh, only for Tom to casually say, “I don’t really like lamb,” Harry is fascinated and utterly thrilled.

Especially since he’d seen Tom eat lamb chops at a dinner party two weeks ago with nary a moment of hesitation or complaint.

Harry makes sure to leave plenty of the chicken tikka masala for Tom and mentally notes this new preference down. He’s collected a new fact about Tom.

He spends the rest of the meal with a silly little grin on his face.

#harry potter #tom riddle #tomarry #same timeline au #established relationship #introspective #character study (kind of)#fluff #tom's favourite ice cream flavour is rum raisin #harry judges him for it being an old person flavour #harry has no room to judge because his favourite is vanilla #because the first ice cream he ever tried was vanilla and it was the best thing he'd ever tasted

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reikodoesfanstuff · 1 month

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No one asked, but I feel like Durge and Enver have nearly the exact same ways they show affection. (Is it good that I put the keep reading so high up? IDK anything about Tumblr etiquette lol)

Enver, coming from a poor family, so much so that he was sold, would go out of his way to shower his nearest and dearest with gifts. It would be things like an expensive wine, maybe a few pieces of jewelry, or an intricately made (but still deadly) dagger. He would also slowly buy Durge so many clothes that, eventually, they're dressed fully in things gifted by Enver. And he's so into that.

He's also brilliant and known to have a silver tongue, they have to be writing verbose and seductive letters or poems back and forth. Enver would be writing things like, "Once the world is mine I will gift it to you and we'll rule together", "Watching hardened killers tremble at your feet makes me envious of their position", or "With me, you'll want for nothing but more pleasure than you can handle." And he sends them within the boxes of his gifts, neatly written and topped with a wax seal of Bane's hand.

Durge, as we know from the "Forgive Me Father" letter, is also a bit of a wordsmith. Their letters would be of a similar tone to Enver's but the words are more like, "Every second spent without your voice in my ears is a new layer added to the hells", "I will hunt your every adversary and ensure they know only misery in your name." and even, "The urge to flay you alive and hear your pretty screams cannot be matched by my need to experience your body as you writhe in the deepest carnal pleasures." All of their poems are haphazardly written on whatever paper scrap Durge can find and half illegible due to being delivered in the open mouths of severed skulls or crumpled in palms of corpses hand-delivered to his chambers when no one's around. Sometimes, they would even be a political rival of Enver's, which they both think is very romantic.

And on that note, body parts are Durge's favorite gift, by far. Bloodied hearts, severed hands holding out a single red rose, cold fingers spelling out a simple message like "Love you" or "Stay safe" or sometimes just a heart shape are left in increasingly intimate places in Enver's home. His front door, the living room, bedroom, and even his bathtub had a corpse display one time! How cute. Durge had quite a hand in raising Enver's political status this way, some were by accident.

And you can't tell me those babes don't shower each other in physical affection behind closed doors. Enver was never shown any compassion as a child. Even worse, he was beaten, often. And now, in adulthood, he can't trust those he brings to his bed as they don't know who he really is or just want the power associated with him. Durge never connected to anyone personally or romantically so physical touch was a rare commodity. They have killed every bed partner at some point in the affair, as the urge commanded. But with Enver, they refuse to listen to it. They want Enver alive, against their father's wishes. As a result, both of them are touch-starved and refuse to keep their hands off each other when alone.

#If you tell me this is false #I WILL cry #durgetash #enver gortash #baldurs gate 3 #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #durge #bg3 durge #bg3 enver gortash #baldur's gate 3 dark urge #dark urge #tw: murder #2 cute chosen falling in love

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zafirosreverie · 1 year

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Little furry friend (Bruno x F!Reader) part 2

For @hectic-hector (ily 💕)

Part 1

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"Julieta!! Do something about your sister!!"

The healer sighed and rolled her eyes fondly before turning to see Pepa effortlessly carrying Bruno into the kitchen. She knew that her brother justified that with the weight loss he had while living in the walls, but the three of them knew that Pepa had always had incredible strength and that she could lift both of them on each arm without breaking a sweat.

"Julieta!! Tell your brother to stop being a crybaby!!"

"I'm not a crybaby!"

"Yes you are!"

"Julieta!!"

"Okay, that's enough" the older one said, trying not to laugh at Bruno's pout when Pepa sat him down in a chair "what's going on?"

"Your sister is a nightmare"

"Your brother is an airhead"

"...okay, something else I don't already know?"

"HEY!!"

Julieta laughed at her siblings’ expressions and rolled her eyes again. Sometimes it was exhausting mediating their fights, but she truly loved them with all of her being and wouldn't have them any other way, no matter how many gray hairs they gave her in a day (definitely more than the six grandchildren combined).

"And you're supposed to be the good triplet?" Pepa crossed her arms with a pout.

"I always said that we should be careful with her, she has a mischievous glint in her eyes" Bruno whispered to the redhead

"So it's against me now?" the older one said, putting her hands on her hips "two seconds ago you were arguing for god knows what"

"oh yeah! You're right"

"Oh no, did you have to remind her?"

Bruno growled when a rainbow invaded the kitchen and Pepa got a little closer to her older sister, taking her by the hand like an excited child. It was always funny how Pepa could change her mood so quickly, especially when she was with her siblings, when she felt safe from being judged. But it wasn't as funny when he was the victim of her plans.

"Let's invite Y/N to dinner!"

"What?"

"We are NOT going to invite her to dinner, Pepa!"

"Why not? You already spend all day with her anyway, Bruno"

"It's different!"

"Why?!"

"Because you are not there to try anything"

"Excuse me?!" the redhead thundered "well sorry but someone has to take the next step if you're not going to do it yourself"

"There is no next step, Pepa, we are just friends!"

Julieta sighed again and pinched the bridge of her nose as her siblings returned to a heated discussion that must have started long before they entered the kitchen. She could understand Bruno's anger or concern, and would usually agree with him that things should happen on their own.

The thing was, this time, she was on Pepa's side. It had been months since you showed up at the house with Bruno's rat in your hand and the whole family had been surprised at how well you got along with him. She had to admit that like her sister, she felt quite betrayed that he hadn't told them about you sooner, but she understood that he had a right to his privacy as well.

And if she was honest with herself, she was relieved at how well you treated her little brother. It wasn't common for townspeople to associate with him of their own free will, even after the candle fiasco, but you didn't seem to have any problem, you were kind to him, you treated him as an equal, and you were even one of the few people he felt comfortable enough about physical contact with.

Of course, the nervous mess he was when you were around him, or the blush that would always come over his face when you smiled at him, or the goofy smile he had all the time when you talked to him, didn't go unnoticed either. Dolores even confirmed that his heart raced every time he saw you or someone said your name. It was obvious to everyone that Bruno Madrigal was completely in love with Y/N Y/L/N, and would be cute, if it wasn't for him refusing to do anything about it.

Her brother was already exhausting the family's patience and even Casita had tried to intervene (which is why Bruno chose to go to your house instead of having you visit them). Julieta was really beginning to consider that they would have to take that step for him.

She snapped out of her thoughts when Pepa's thunder began to get louder. The kitchen began to be filled with black clouds and if she didn’t intervene soon, all her effort would be wasted due to the rain. However, she did not have time to do something when you popped your head through the window, with a small rat on your shoulder.

"Hi Juli!" You said, always smiling "What are you doing?"

Months ago, it would not even have occurred to you to be so open with her, but after the kind reception that the whole family had made, you could not help but feeling comfortable and happy every time you approached Casita.

"These two, always fighting" she returned the smile

"For the last arepa again?"

"No" she laughed, remembering the time Pepa almost threw a knife to Bruno when he took the last arepa, although she quickly calmed down when she saw that he had taken it for you "for something that Pepa wants Bruno to do"

"Ohhhh" you said, with curiosity in your eyes "What thing?"

She was about to answer when Antonio suddenly entered the kitchen. The boy smiled widely as soon as he saw you and ran to greet you. After Bruno, Madrigal's youngest son was the one who more time spent with you.

"Hello Y/N!"

"Hey Buddy!" You answered "Long time no seeing you"

"Yes, you didn't come for three days!" he pouted

"I'm sorry, I had things to do in the carpentry" you apologized

You did not even notice that the black clouds had disappeared, or that the Madrigal triplets were looking at you with curiosity, kindness and nervousness.

"It's okay" Antonio smiled at you "is just that the animals began to ask me where Uncle Bruno's girlfriend was" he shrugged

You felt your cheeks turning red, and you quickly looked where the seer was, a few steps behind his nephew. He did not look better than you, on the contrary, he looked pale and two seconds of fainting, while his sisters smirked and tried to hide their laughs behind their hands, although the rainbow that filled the room betrayed the redhead.

If you were honest, the idea itself was not bad. Actually, you had long accepted your feelings for the younger triplet, even if you didn’t plan to do something about it because you did not think the man returned your feelings. But now, seeing him so red and nervous, you committed to question it.

"S-she’s not my g-girlfriend" Bruno stuttered, resisting the impulse to hide with the hood of his Ruana

"She's not?" Antonio asked innocently

"No, I'm not" you replied

For a moment that seemed frozen in time, you could feel the eyes of the three adults on you, Pepa seemed disappointed, Julieta contained her breath and Bruno looked really defeated. That was what made you take a risk.

"Toñito, your uncle and I share Sebastián, remember?" you said gently

"Yeah?"

"That means we have a child together" you smiled with malice when you heard the triplets gasps "I am not his girlfriend, I am his wife"

"W-what?!"

Pepa and Julieta laughed at their brother's complete shock, and you couldn't help noticing how adorable it was. But then, as if he was a statue, he fell backwards, harshly hitting against the ground.

".... ooops" you said.

#reader insert #x reader #bruno madrigal imagine #bruno madrigal x reader #bruno madrigal preferences #bruno x reader #bruno magridal #encanto preferences #encanto x reader #encanto imagine #encanto

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5ungchan · 4 months

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DENIAL ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡. THE FOOL

HIS DENIAL WAS HIS BIGGEST DELUSION. THREADED IN BETWEEN HER FINGERS, SHE TUGS AT HIS HEART STRINGS AND HE IGNORES THE OBVIOUS. HE’D SOLD HIS SOUL LONG AGO. DANCING TO THE TUNE OF THE DEVIL; SHE’D PROMISED HIM A WISH, AND HE’D FAILED TO OBTAIN IT.

WARNINGS: MANIPULATION, GASLIGHTING, GUILT TRIPPING, EMOTIONAL MIND-FUCKING. LEGITIMATE FUCKING: BRATTY, BITCHY READER. FEMALE BODY WORSHIP, CUNNILINGUS, FINGERING, INABILITY TO CUM, SWITCH IN DYNAMICS, DETAILED CHOKING. SWEARING, ANGST, SLIGHTLY DARK CONTENT. POST-NUT CLARITY, ISH.

WORD COUNT: 5.7K

SHOTARO STRUGGLED WITH STAYING SOBER.

He drank you up like it was the only thing he'd ever known. Having never seen any of your insecurities. Shotaro basked in your presence, admiring everything from the surface. It was superficial. Of course, he'd fallen in love with a facade ⏤ a mirage. A woman that refused to let on more than she should. He couldn't see her insecurities because she'd projected them onto him. Making him feel as though, he was the one that needed to change ⏤ not her. She wanted to be loved, and so she used him to feel important: to feel validated. Forcing him to mould his very mind, body and soul to her standards.

WHATEVER SHE SAID, HE DID ⏤ SHE WANTED TO BE THE ONLY THING ON HIS MIND.

Regardless, he couldn't say no. In fact, he straight up refused to acknowledge the fact you'd contorted him so well. Meshing his mind like it was clay; pulling and twisting, making sure you'd dug your fingers into him. Manipulating his mind into believing that he couldn't live without you. Whatever he thought, you had a say in it. Being the judge of his actions, controlling the bits and pieces of his life. It was all easier said than done. But it felt as though, he was bound to fall apart at the seams. He lacked what you wanted in total. He couldn't always deliver. And when that occurred, you pushed him away. Disregarding everything he'd done for you.

SHOTARO SHOULD KNOW BETTER — SUNGCHAN TELLS HIM.

His best friend Sungchan couldn't wrap his head around what Shotaro saw in you. Beauty? Sure, but that was quickly shrouded by just how nasty your personality was. The tall, overly sociable giant got along with everyone, everyone but you. It meant a lot if he didn't like you. He knew you were two-faced, with an ulterior plan behind every move. Every time you'd pushed Shotaro away, Sungchan was there to help his best friend. Although, it hurt him watching his best friend scurry back to you. He was hoping that tonight, this horrid cycle would end for good.

"Gullible, naive...or are you just flat out refusing to acknowledge the truth?" Asks Sungchan.

Annoyed, he leans against the marble kitchen counter, bottle of soju in hand. Staring down at Shotaro like he was a mother scolding his child.

"She's serious about me!" Protests Shotaro, "...Really, she wants to get back together."

Rolling his eyes, Sungchan can't help but drink his frustrations down. A conversation repeated once too many times. He hated you, hated how you stole his best friend from him. Stepping all over his dignity, Shotaro was no longer capable of making a choice for himself. The bitter words ⏤ insults, that he associated with you get stuffed back down his throat. Chugging his soju, he slams the empty bottle back onto the counter.

"You deserve better."

"She's the only one I want. I think you two just...got off on the wrong foot?" Shotaro tries to offer an excuse, protecting your name despite the fact, you'd never do the same. Sighing, he finds it impossible to make Sungchan see eye-to-eye with him about you.

"Like I said: Gullible, naive ⏤ you're honestly stupid as fuck. You know she's bad for you! Said it before yourself, but you're stubborn. Refusing to accept the truth and settling for something so wrong, since you've never known anything right."

A scowl flashes onto Shotaro's face and his chest pangs, "The fuck are you on about? Who do you think you are? Running your mouth about what's good for me?"

"I'm your best friend Shotaro. Been through hell with you ⏤ had your back every time she had you running back."

"Then be happy for me."

Rolling his eyes, Sungchan can't believe the words that are fluttering past Shotaro's mouth. It was all nonsense, it wasn't like him. Not like the Shotaro he grew up with and knew. Arguing was pointless at this rate. Either he learned through his own boundaries, or fell hard on his face from you kicking him out.

"She'll be here tonight. Prove me wrong then. Show me you can stand up for yourself. That you know better than I do."

It's almost as though the walls have ears. A third eye lingering from somewhere in between the drywall and framework. It has a chill running down Sungchan's spine when he notices his words have an effect. Most people would say that the cat dragged someone in after being gossiped about, but in this case: you are the feline.

Strutting into the room with your shoulders held back, chin pointed slightly upwards. You didn't look at the ground, no, you looked straight ahead. People moved aside at the sight of you and it had an effect. From Sungchan's perspective it's almost as if the room had dimmed down. Everything was much darker than before. Were there always this many people in the room? It almost felt claustrophobic as he watches you scan the room, making your dramatic greetings. A cluster of 'hi's' and 'hello's' mixed in with hugs and waves, to the party-goers you knew. Somehow, you knew everyone. But nobody knew you like he did.

Contrary to his negative emotions, Shotaro is a complete different story. The cold soju bottle squeaks, growing tight within his grasps. The condensation running down the label and into his sweaty palms. He's frozen in awe ⏤ like always. His sugar brown eyes widen, lips falling apart before he subconsciously begins to chew on his bottom lip. You always managed to light up the room. Friendly to everyone, you practically glimmered underneath the lights. The chatter and loud house music falls silent. The world is muted, on pause as the room freezes in time. With admiration, he watches as you turn on the spot, stopping when you spot him from the living room.

A soft smile spreads onto Shotaro's face as he practically beams with happiness. Waving in your direction as you meet his gaze with a blank stare. Monotonous, unbothered ⏤ it felt like you weren't even looking back at him, but at the wall behind. Your eyes dart towards Sungchan who glares in return, rolling his eyes as he slowly raises the middle finger. The fool and his companion you think. Typical.

WITHOUT A SECOND GLANCE, YOU TURN BACK AROUND.

Shotaro feels his heart drop down to his stomach. It feels so empty inside the cavity of his chest that he can't help but feel cold. Maybe you didn't want to make a scene in front of everyone? As if anyone was looking. Everyone was getting to the point of being too drunk. However, he's sure you have your reasons. Perhaps, you wanted to keep things on the down low until things were official.

“See? She doesn't want you. Not like how you want her," Whispers Sungchan. Having leaned in close, he places a hand on Shotaro's shoulder making a futile attempt at consolidating him. "You can do so much better. She's not the only girl in this crowd ⏤ Ningning! Over by the window. She's cute, go chat her up!"

Shrugging Sungchan's hand off, he pushes his half full drink into his hands.

"You go chat up Ningning."

Shotaro immediately walks off, abruptly leaving his best friend in the dust. The sourness from their conversation making him feel somewhat motivated to prove Sungchan wrong. Staggering in your direction, the happiness practically beams from his face.

Awkwardly standing behind you, he pokes at your lower back, "Let's talk please?"

Once he's got your attention, he presses his palm flat against your back. Sliding it over to rest atop your hip, wrapping his arm around you.

"⏤So talk."

"Can we go somewhere more private?"

Pausing, you take a deep breath. Truthfully, you didn't even know if you were serious about getting back with him. What was the point of going somewhere private? Regardless, you didn't want to cause a scene. Shaking his grasps off you and silently departing from the living room.

Shotaro meekly follows you through the hallway, each of his footsteps feeling heavier than the last. He feels as though he's walking towards his death sentence, the unease fills his body as he tries to maintain his composure. He wanted to talk, so he'd talk. You didn't even need to look behind yourself, you knew he was following you.

Stepping inside an empty room, you plop yourself onto the bed. The sound of the frame creaks as you cross your legs and impatiently wait for Shotaro to begin.

"Make it quick will you? I don't want anyone wondering where I am," you say.

Shotaro pauses. Shuffling his feet against the floor, he treads carefully with his next words. He doesn't want you storming out of the room, nor does he want you to leave this room without him by your side.

"What's been on your mind lately?" He questions. Sitting next to you on the bed, he can't help but feel hurt. You don't make eye contact, opting to keep your eye on the door. Was Sungchan panning out to be right after all? Shaking his head, he doesn't want to lose hope, not yet.

"What's it you want to hear?" You prefer to give him a vague response.

"I want you to look at me," he begins, slowly placing his palm on your shoulder and nudging you, "Like how you used to."

Sighing, you turn your head to face him. Meeting his gaze, those soft brown eyes of his practically twinkle with some sort of anticipation and hope. A soft smile stretches onto his face when you follow his request. But it falters just as quickly, unlike him, you don't smile back. You hardly did anymore.

"You used to have all the love in the world for me...where'd it all go?" Shotaro can't help but whisper those words to you. Scared of the truth, terrified of how you'd react to him for asking such a thing.

"You're kidding. What makes you think I had all the love in the world...for you?" Scoffing, you can't help but let out a dry laugh at how ridiculous he sounds.

Tilting your head to the side, you lean back and stare at him coyly, "Actions speak louder than words 'Taro. Don't just sit there mumbling about this and that."

Placing your hand atop his thigh, you gently slide your hand up and down the expanse of the area, "Show me what you mean, and I'll respond accordingly."

As expected, you're met with silence on his end. He's flustered. Evident in the way his cheeks are dusted with a subtle pink.

"Sho’," you begin as you continue to lean back. Moving just until you fall against the pillows with a soft 'thump'. Bending your knees, you split them apart slowly. Allowing your skirt to pool upwards, slyly flashing your unclothed cunt. The missing article of clothing that was in question was currently stuffed into the glovebox of your car. You'd planned this.

"...'Taro. Won't you come and find out what I mean?"

Jutting out your bottom lip, you pout at him as if you were some innocent girl. He's oblivious to discern the fact that you'd just refused to look at him earlier, and now? You had all of your attention focused on him.

Feeling content with yourself when you see him stand up to crawl towards you. His knees buckle with a certain mixture of excitement and nervousness.

"You know, you've always been my favourite dancer, my favourite boy. Always so fluid, so expressive. Willing to comply whenever, wherever."

"I just want to do well for you," he sighs. He’d always tried to have your best interests at heart.

Dragging your index finger against the slit of your folds, and coating the tip in your slick, wetness before bringing it up to your lips; tasting yourself. Swirling your tongue around, before withdrawing it from your mouth with a gentle 'pop', "Mmm. Sweet, always so sweet."

He's already ensnared. Silently accepting your offer with a soft smile plastered on his face. Innocent looking, but truly the opposite when it came to you. Shotaro rests at your legs, wrapping an arm around either of your thighs. His palms gently holding onto the skin.

Leaning inwards, Shotaro inhales the scent of your skin. Admiring the body lotion you'd put on. It's much more faint, than it would've been from it's initial application, but it's a scent he'd recognized. Rubbing his nose against the grain of your inner thighs, he grows dizzy from the scent of those faint roses.

With his eyes shut closed, his lips part, tongue sticking out to lick across the faint stretch marks that decorate your skin. Puckering his lips, he alternates between soft kisses to wet streaks of his tongue. Admiring every inch of your body, that was nestled so closely to where your pussy was.

To Shotaro, this is heaven. You were the very woman of his dreams. He was always eager to please you, never saying no to your advances as he constantly navigated your body. He thought he did a good job, but he'd be foolish to think that he'd be able to dominate you. The tables were always turned against him, he was just too blinded to see.

Suddenly, you feel the tip of his nose poke at the top of your labia. Reaching for his head, you gently fist a bunch of his hair and nudge him forwards.

Shotaro drags his tongue up and down your slit, starting off slow before making contact with your clit. The feeling of the papillae on his tongue is enough to make your body shudder. Flicking the bud back and forth, switching to circular movements around the nerve as you spread your legs further apart.

The sound of his tongue lapping against the vulnerable flesh of your body and your soft huffs is enough to make the room hot. It feels closed off, suffocating even, as he gets lost in between your legs. Resorting to plunging his fingers into your depths as he takes a breather. Lifting his head to watch how you've got yours thrown back, mouth agape as your eyebrows furrow with pleasure. He’d always looked up at you, admiring the way you shone with ecstasy.

WITH SUCH A EUPHORIC LOOK ACROSS YOUR FACE, SHOTARO CAN'T HELP BUT FEEL CONVINCED YOU LOVE HIM.

The curvature of his fingers hovers just above your g-spot. The place that always made you shudder, one that you had no trouble reaching yourself. However, for some reason: he never went beyond that. Blindly missing the physical cues your body made. Shotaro couldn't understand why your walls seemed to tense up around his fingers, thinking that this was probably where it felt best. He always guessed incorrectly.

"You're so beautiful. Fuck⏤ it feel good?"

Nodding your head, you silently agree that it does. Until it doesn't.

You hate how he plunges his fingers into you with no objective. Never reaching where they should be. Was he stupid? Huffing, you urge him to add another finger. Maybe now it'll help him reach deeper.

He does. The outcome remains the same.

Instead, you watch as he grows pathetically weak. With his forehead pressed against your pubic bone. Dazed and drowsy, he's drowning in how good you smell. His tongue stretched out to taste you more and more. His free hand moving downwards to palm himself through his sweats.

"Mmph, you're so sweet. So good, so, so..." he doesn't finish as he continues to help himself to your wetness.

Annoyed, you lift your head to stare him down. You always had to cum first, he should know that. He wasn't neglecting you per se, but he grew distracted by how his own length was pulsating against the fabric of his boxers. He wanted to release himself, but he needed to focus on you.

"Fucking hell. Shotaro, stop."

He doesn't hear you, not until you tug at his hair roughly. Forcing him to look upwards. Those brown eyes of his glowing with lust as he freezes when he realizes you're being serious.

"What's wrong? I thought you were enjoying this?"

Closing your knees up, you push him aside as you roll your eyes in annoyance, "Enjoy myself?"

You can't help but feel amused with how lost Shotaro looks. The worry is evident in his face, in his tone, as he sits upwards. Fingers fidgeting with the hem of your skirt.

"What did I do wrong?" he asks, as he's eager to fix things.

"You can never do this right. Always starting off well before getting lost in...whatever this is," groaning, you look away from him, "You can't even fuck me properly and yet you're asking if I've ever loved you."

Shotaro can't help but scoff at how insensitive you sound, "What?"

"Do I need to repeat myself? Seriously, you're not good enough for me. Never was, never will be," you complain, having felt so annoyed with him.

Clearly he'd never be able to meet your standards.

"You can't be serious? You know, I'd always told myself otherwise but you really are acting like a bitch."

"Hmm? Well it's about time you started realizing things," You retort. Lifting your hands up to stare at your nails, you brush him off. Ignoring the way he stares at you completely stunned. It wasn't like your rude remarks were happening for the first time either.

You can't help but roll your eyes, "Why so quiet? There's no reason to be so surprised."

Shotaro feels as though he's been slapped in the face. He'd been falling for quite some time, but now? He'd finally hit the ground hard. The reality of things made him feel embarrassed. All of it practically soaking into his system: you'd finally awakened something in him.

IT HAPPENS WITHIN SECONDS, CATCHING YOU OFF GUARD.

You're completely shocked when you feel Shotaro's hand against your face. His thumb digging into your cheek, while the rest of his fingers occupied the other side. Roughly turning your head to face him.

"I want you to fucking look at me when I speak," he demands.

Raising an eyebrow, you feel stunned. This was new. The way his face had fallen still, his eyebrows furrowed angrily as the creases around his eyes made him look all too serious. He was no longer cute and soft. In fact, he looked so upset that it was quite comedic to you. Maybe, just maybe, you'd pressed one too many of his buttons. Pushing him into overdrive. You can't help but laugh. Your hot breath reflecting against his palm.

"You're laughing?" Shotaro's in complete disbelief, pressing harder against your face and pushing it against the pillows. "What'll it take for you to finally take me seriously?"

Your laughter persists, the way your voice is almost too shrill for his liking. There was no allure to it, it wasn't seductive ⏤ it made his ears ring.

"For fucks sake! Take me seriously for once!" He demands as he moves his hand away from your face and down towards your throat. Wrapping his calloused fingers around your neck, the pads of his fingertips press down roughly into your skin. His fingernails digging in deep as he squeezes hard against your larynx.

Your laughing comes to a halt, instead, you're gargling. With your spit getting stuck in between your mouth and throat. Your airway's obstructed as you can't help but choke. The sound of your hacking and wheezing echoes through the room as he presses harder.

Somehow Shotaro enjoys seeing you like this. The way your face grows slightly hotter, a darker red. Your eyes rolling back into your head with drool seeping from the corner of your mouth. Releasing your neck, Shotaro can't help but feel proud with himself. Finally, you'd be able to take him seriously.

"See? You're so much better when you're not ordering me around, or talking back."

However, the sudden cockiness in Shotaro's demeanour disappears when he notices how you've refused to move much at all. Your chest heaving slowly as he tries to shake you awake.

"Y/N?" He asks.

He receives no response, no sign. Your body lays there limp.

"Y/N?" Shotaro calls out, shaking your body as he uses his hand to gently slap you on the cheek. The worry is evident in his tone as he calls out to you.

"I-I'm so sorry. I had no idea, I didn't mean to go so far!" He protests as he holds you in his arms.

A raspy cough leaves your body, as you weakly raise your hand to rub your eyes. You couldn't see very well, everything was doubled but you'd managed to focus your gaze on him. Taking in the sights: he was worried, oh sooo worried. The Shotaro you knew was already back. But so soon?

Noticing your consciousness, his eyes widen with joy. Hugging you tightly in his arms and pressing your head gently against his chest. A string of apologies flutter past his lips as he rubs your back gently, using his free hand to pat your hair.

A series of raspy coughs leave your mouth, as you can't help but giggle. Sounding like a broken record as you scratch at your throat, the pain was immeasurable. However, the situation was way too worth it to acknowledge the pain.

"Tha-that...all you got?" You question. Lifting your head from his chest to weakly challenge him. Physically you were shaken up, but mentally you couldn't help but feel turned on.

Using whatever energy you had left, you push yourself off of him. Removing yourself from his grasps and falling back onto the mattress. Huffing slowly, your chest heaves up and down with each breath you take. You're practically shaking as your system tries to level back to it's norm.

"Shotaro," you begin, as your fingers blindly play with the buttons of your shirt. You manage to pop open a few buttons before giving up, flashing bits of your skin and cleavage behind the fabric.

Surprising him with a coy smile, you reach out to pull him by his shirt. He follows your lead, leaning in close as you stare at him dead straight in the eyes.

"That’s it?" You question, "Couldn't have gone all the way huh? Now use that...that rage, to fuck me. I want you to ravage me, pull me apart for everything I've done."

"What? I legitimately thought I'd ended you..." Shotaro mumbles in disbelief.

You scoff in response, "Baby. There's no way you could kill me. If one of us dies in this fucked up relationship; it'll be you."

Shotaro opens his mouth to retort, trying to change your mind and to get you to relax and heal. He gets no chance as you tug at his shirt, getting rid of whatever minimal distance there was and kissing him roughly. Your lips push against his as you slip your tongue in between, allowing the wetness to push through and mesh with his.

You don't let him pull away and he obliges, falling into your grasps like always. Cherishing each kiss as he meets your rough advances with his usual tenderness.

"I love it when you're you," you say in between kisses, "When you disagree with what I do, taking control for yourself."

Shotaro doesn't respond. It's not that he doesn't want to, he just no longer thinks it's worth the effort as he uses his hands to reach for his pants. Tugging them down quickly, his erection having resurfaced. He figures it's pointless to ask if you're ready, to go slow. It used to always be about you. However, things changed after today and it had to progress the way he wanted. If you thought he was still soft with his behaviour, you were wrong.

Pulling his lips away from yours, he looks downwards to line your entrance up with his cock. The tip of his dick is hot, slightly more pink than the rest as precum leaks from it's tip. He doesn't tease you: refusing to rub himself in between your folds, or tap at your clit with his member. No, he just helps himself. Pushing inwards with a groan.

It's unlike anything he's ever felt before. The way your walls squeeze against his flesh, he isn't sure if you're contracting your walls yourself, but he simply doesn't care anymore. The role of pillow princess was no longer yours. You'd simply become nothing more than a cum rag for him.

HE’D BE DONE WITH YOU AFTER THIS.

Pulling his hips back, he snaps them forwards pushing into you with force. Starting a pace that he liked, that he wanted. For once, he's the one looking down at you. Holding your hips in place as he fucks into you roughly. Trying his best to ignore the way you furrowed your eyebrows, whilst biting down on your lip. Your eyes are shut tight, eyelashes fluttering against the grain of your skin.

The bruises that decorate your neck are oddly beautiful. Clearly, you'd enjoyed receiving them too. Then it hits him, the sound of your moaning. Weak, toned down and much more hoarser than usual. The sweetness that typically coated your moans and came out with such femininity was gone now. You were quieter, less whinier and demanding.

He liked you this way: submissive. But did he really enjoy you in this way? Helplessly laying there. Allowing yourself to be fucked at his mercy. You had stars in your eyes looking at him like he was everything. But this wasn’t him, you were enamoured by an amalgamation of him caused by all your manipulation.

Shotaro finds himself falling in and out of focus. The pleasure that he feels practically radiating throughout his body is insane. Although, he can't help but feel somewhat unhappy with himself. He couldn't feel content with what this was. It wasn't right.

There was nothing more that he wanted than to see you genuinely embrace him. Loving him for who he was, reciprocating his actions in a positive way. Such a thing wouldn't have been possible in this lifetime. You just weren't built that way, with absolutely no empathy in your body. He can't help but feel that he's wasted so much on someone who regarded him as nothing.

He can't do this anymore. Watching as you shudder beneath him, the muscles in your body tensing up as your back arches from the mattress, your toes curling in unison. You'd came for the first time; evident in the way your insides clung onto him, your hands desperately reaching out for his body. But he hadn't. He simply couldn't.

Wordlessly pulling out, he searches around for his pants. Putting them on hastily, and patting down his clothes in a weak attempt to make himself presentable. Taking one last glance at you, he feels sick to his stomach. How could such a person force him to go so far as an individual. Initially it seemed beautiful, it felt hot and somewhat kinky. But the reality of things had come unraveled. This wasn’t him.

He couldn't recognize the work he'd done. With your clothes barely covering your body, the slight twitching in your legs as you simply followed him with your eyes. You don't move, he assumes you're too fatigued.

But for once, you've kept your eyes on him and it seems like finally, he's won over your heart. The bliss in your eyes is insurmountable, you're practically glowing with some twisted sense of adoration. The light sweat that adorns your body make it feel as though you're on fire. Just as Lucifer had been cast away from the heavens, plummeting down to the ground. Devilishly attractive, deceiving and cunning: you were sadistic in your intentions. It all showed on the surface now.

"Leaving so soon?" you ask, meekly calling out from the bed as you watch him walk towards the door. He hadn't even helped you clean up. It was unlike him.

"Not gonna help me clean up?" Further questioning him, when he doesn't respond.

Shotaro pauses by the door. He wants to turn around, to give in and go wash you up. But he thinks that if he did, he wouldn't be able to walk away ever again.

"You'll manage," he begins. Turning around to glance at you with a soft smile on his face. The kindness in his body was always overflowing. He was genuine, meant everything that he did, and yet you made him feel like a monster.

"Don't bother calling anymore."

THE DOOR OPENS QUIETLY, SHUTTING CLOSED BEHIND HIM.

Shotaro promised himself he would've walked out that room with you by his side. He'd imagined you'd be hand in hand, laughing with each other. Thinking that things could go back to what they once were. But Sungchan was right about him, he was naive and in fact, he was hopeless. Having faith in things that simply wouldn't occur.

Re-entering the party scene, he scans the room for Sungchan. Feeling surprised when he sees him actually talking to Ningning. His footsteps are quicker and much lighter than before as he pushes past the crowd, approaching the two of them. It feels as though the giant weight on his shoulder has been left behind.

"Guess you took up my offer then?" Shotaro begins as he teasingly nudges Sungchan in the side with his elbow.

Sungchan looks stunned as he looks at Shotaro from head to toe, side to side, "Huh? Yeah, your offer, my idea. Either way, where's...you know?"

"I ended it," Shotaro quickly responds, the smile on his face doesn't falter. As he turns his attention towards Ningning, "You must be Ningning, right?"

The doe-eyed girl nods eagerly, giving him a soft smile. Although before she can respond, her smile falters. Looking straight past Shotaro, she almost looks scared. Confused, he glances at Sungchan for any clue as to what was going on. The look on his face is the same as hers. In fact, he's speechless with his mouth wide apart. It's as if the two of them had seen a ghost.

"Ended what?" A voice asks. One that he knew all too well.

Slowly turning around, he can't help but feel like his souls left his body. You're standing there with a bright smile, and yet the look in your eyes is emptier than ever. The clothes on your body are perfectly normal ⏤ presentable. Even your hair rests nicely against the frame of your face, just a tad bit dishevelled ⏤ one could've assumed you'd been dancing a bit too hard tonight.

Everything about you is normal except for the blue and purple bruises that mark your skin. The array of red and violet petechiae patches on your skin make your neck look as though you'd been attacked. And you were.

The feeling of your arm wrapping around Shotaro's waist makes his skin erupt into goosebumps. He's uncomfortable, but you pretend as if nothings wrong. Tilting your head to the side innocently. Staring at Sungchan and Ningning as if everything was well.

"Aren't you gonna introduce me?" You ask as you stare directly at the girl opposite to you. It was obvious you made her uncomfortable as she laughs awkwardly, scanning the room for any sort of excuse to attend to. Her eyes refuse to remove themselves from your neck. She leaves without a word, practically dashing for an exit.

Frowning, you can't help but pout, "What's her deal?"

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" He hisses. Pushing you off him as he runs a hand through his hair. You made him beyond frustrated, especially tonight.

"Babe?"

"Don't 'babe' me! I told you we're done!" He protests.

"Done? Who said you made the calls again?"

Sungchan can't help but step into the situation, pushing you back a step with his hand outstretched as you swat at him.

"Stay out of it," you warn.

"Leave Shotaro alone. He's already ended things with you," counters Sungchan as he steps forward again, eager to get into your personal space.

You can't help but scoff at his attitude. Did he think you were scared of him? Tilting your head to the side, you purse your lips in thought. Standing on your tippy toes to suddenly grab at Sungchan's throat with your hand. Guffawing when his eyes widen in surprise, "Just kidding~ I wouldn't hurt you."

Instead of clinging onto his neck, you move upwards to hold him by his chin. Tilting his head to focus on your neck, "But I will warn you."

"Seen the damage already haven't you? Yeah. ‘Bet it was the first thing you saw."

Sungchan being much taller and stronger than you, removes your grasp with ease as he glares down at you, "Don't fucking touch me."

"Shotaro didn't end anything. Not after this," You state as you rub against your neck softly. It hurt but you'd toned up your performance, dramatically wincing at how sore and numb things felt.

Pushing Sungchan aside, you motion at him to move over as you smile at Shotaro. The room falls cold as he stares back at you, mimicking the look of a deer caught in the headlights. You'd pushed him to do this. He’d succeeded in complying with your taunting, but failed to keep what dignity he’d had left in himself.

"What do you want from me?" He fearfully questions.

Leaning in close, you force him into your grasps. Wrapping a tight hug around him as you breath down his neck.

"I told you that you were my favourite dancer ⏤ my favourite boy. ‘Told you that I'd play you a tune you couldn't resist. Tonight you proved that, and you'll continue to do so in the following days," whispering into his ear. Your words carry a strong warning, foreshadowing what's to come, "When will it happen? Who knows."

With a quick kiss against his cheek, you detach yourself, taking a few steps back from him. Walking backwards as you head for the door.

"Oh, not to worry though. You'll manage!" You yell out from the loudness of the crowd, "Don't forget to pick up when I call ‘Taro."

#5UNGCHAN ARCHIVE: SHOTARO.

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momentsbeforemass · 6 days

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“Not one of those Christians”

(by request)

I got the saddest compliment yesterday.

Someone had found this blog and read a bunch of posts. Then messaged me to let me know that one of the posts had been really helpful for them. That it spoke to something that they were struggling with from their childhood.

I thanked them for letting me know. And told them the truth – that if it’s good, it’s all God’s doing.

They went on to confide in me, about how they grew up in a church where Jesus was used as a weapon. About all they had done to get away from that church, from its culture of division. And from its angry, hateful God.

About how they were struggling to have healthy relationships, with others and with God.

Then they thanked me for “not being one of those Christians.”

I’m still struggling with how to respond to them.

My heart breaks for the child that was abused. It may not be as visible as physical abuse, but spiritual and emotional abuse also does lasting damage.

Part of me wonders if the people who did it even realized the harm they were doing in the name of God. It made me think about something that Justin Martyr (today’s saint) said, about what it really means to be a Christian.

“We used to hate and destroy one another and refused to associate with people of another race or country, with people different from ourselves. Now, because of Christ, we live together with such people and pray for our enemies.”

That’s what we’re supposed to be doing, if we mean it. If we’re really trying to be Christians.

Understand that Justin is saying this in the mid-100’s, during a Roman persecution of Christians that would go on for a decade. And would lead to the deaths of many of the early martyrs, including Justin.

We’re supposed to do that, even when there’s every reason not to. And not just to our enemies, but first to each other. To our family, friends, and fellow Christians. Whether we think they deserve it or not.

Anything less – like closing our hearts to God, weaponizing our beliefs, or remaking our Lord in ways that suit our fear and our anger – isn’t living the Faith. It’s selling out the Faith.

As Justin put it, “those who are not found living as He taught are not Christian – even though they profess with the lips the teaching of Christ.”

May God grant us the grace of “not being one of those Christians.”

Today’s Readings

#Spiritual Abuse #Weaponized Faith #Unhealthy #Together #Pray for them #God's Love #God #Jesus #Catholic #Christian #Church #Catholicism #Justin Martyr #Moments Before Mass

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hopelesswritergall · 1 year

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Not sure your opinions on Bran Stark, but maybe him falling in love with the reader while they’re assorted into an arranged marriage? He grows jealous and decides he needs to keep you in Winterfell with him, so he does everything he can to make you his despite your oath of marriage to maybe a Lannister?

Or just any Bran Stark x Reader content, I love that man so much 🤭🤭

Yesss darling!! Baby I think I made it GN but if you catched a gender thingy let me know!

Summary: Bran didn’t like Y/N at first, so when their parents announced they were to be betrothed he refused. That hurts. But then Tommen came and he disliked that even more. He would show you that he is better than that bastard.

A/N: I do not follow the original storyline cause yeah no. We don’t do that here on this blog. Also fuck their winters and shit. In this story it’s just all 4 seasons in 1 year. And your house is Greenfield a (non-existing) house which is south of Winterfell and often associated with the Vale and shit.

It’s sort of very long headcanons :)

Tag list: @crownedtargaryen

Let me know if you want to be added babes

It was the summer of Bran’s thirteenth birthday, when they got the news. The Greenfield’s were coming to visit and they were bringing their child Y/N Greenfield. They were often talked about, how they would grow up to become one of the prettiest people alive. Bran couldn't care less. He just wanted to learn archery and not much more.

When the Greenfields arrived his whole family was running around making sure that everything looks perfect. "Robb, can we train this afternoon?" "Bran, we do not have the time for training, we need to prepare. Do something useful and go help father or something.” Stupid Greenfields, now they’ve ruined his weekly training session with Robb, what else are they going to ruin? On his way to his father he ran into his mother Catelyn. “Bran! What are you still doing in these clothes?! Go and put on sometching more formal! Don’t just stand here, GO!” His mother looked very nervous and it almost seemed like this visit would determine their fate as a house.

Deciding not to push the buttons of his mother even more he complied, and asked a servant to bring him some formal clothes. (You didn’t think he would do that himself now did you??). Once it was on his bed he begrudgingly put it on, already feeling as if he doesn’t really like the Greenfields one bit.

He begrudgingly went downstairs to meet with his parents. His parents, Robb, Sansa, Rickon,his adopted brother Jon and hell even Arya were dressed up. They all wore their best clothes for the visit

They all waited for the carriage to enter the gates of Winterfell and they didn’t have to wait long. A few minutes after everything gathered a carriage came into view. It was decorated with beautiful green ornaments and golden leaves on the sides.

Your father, mother and your 2 older brothers left the carriage before you and as last but definitely not least you.

“My lord stark, may I present to you. My eldest : Tobas, my second eldest: Darron. And my youngest : Y/N.” Your father spoke

“It’s a pleasure to meet you guys, really! Come on in! Let the kids get to know each other, they’ll be spending lots of time together in the future so…..” Ned spoke the last part quietly not wanting to reveal anything yet.

You stood there swaying on your feet until you spotted Bran, he looked around your age so you approached him, wanting to seem nice.

“Hi! My name is,” You couldn’t even finish your sentence before he walked away. “Y/N.” You were confused as to why he suddenly walked away. You were only trying to be nice.

“Don’t pay him any attention Y/N, my name is Sansa! Come, you can sit next to me at dinner.” She joined your guy’s arms and walked with you to where you would be staying at.

Ned and your father had made plans to unite your houses when you were born. Tobas and Darron were too old to be wedded to either Sansa or god forbid Arya. But you, you were the perfect age and being born only a few months after Bran? It was a miracle.

At the dinner the announcement was made and my god was it an experience

“Ned, thank you so much for hosting this amazing dinner for us. We couldn’t be more honoured and I believe that as a host you should be the one to announce it.”

“Thank you Duncas,” Ned cleared his throat before he said the words that ruined it all for Bran. “The Starks and Greenfields will be united through a marriage. Bran and Y/N are destined to be wedded as soon as Y/N turns eighteen. Until then they will spend much time together. Let’s all celebrate this alliance!”

Bran felt like he was going to puke. He didn’t want to marry anyone and why them?! They weren’t special or anything, so he sulked and pouted the entirety of the dinner.

You on the other hand already had a feeling when your father announced that you would be visiting Winterfell. You knew that it would be good for your family and Winterfell would be an important ally. Besides Bran wasn’t that bad looking. Wink wink

“Do you hear this Y/N?! We’ll be sisters!” It seemed like Sansa was more excited than your future husband. This was off to a great start.

Over the span of the following 5 years, Bran would be 18 and you would turn 18 later that year, you were forced to spend a lot of time together. Sansa had already accepted you as her sister and you really liked her. Bran on the other hand…..

He was a CUNT. Always ignoring you, making snide remarks about your looks or manners. “No Y/N, I don’t know how you do it down south but we don’t do that here in the North.” He would always make you feel insecure, like you didn’t belong there.

Bran wasn’t the best with women and he didn’t despise you contrary what you might believe. He just didn’t really express him self that good. Alright, he was just shit at communicating and thought it would be better to just make you stay away. :)

You practically lived in Winterfell and the Starks would be receiving some royal visitors. The Queen and her son Tommen would come to visit Winterfell. You were very excited because you never met them before and heard great stories about the future king.

“Sansa! Imagine that the prince would like one of us? Then we’d become the next queen! Isn’t that just a dream?” That is what Bran overheard when he was walking around the place.

“Do you think he could end your betrothal to my brother? If he does, promise me you will remember me!” “Sansa, I will never ever forget you!”

Next day at dinner he decided to do a teeny tiny bit of questioning, did you really like the prince? Were you so desperate to get away from him?

“So Y/N, excited for the visit of the prince?” He gave you a sweet angelic look

“Yeah! I’ve heard great stories about him. Did you hear that he is great at archery and sword fighting?! Like that’s so cool!”

Bran scoffed a bit and replied snarkier than he intended “Pff well I am good with bow and arrow as well you know?”

The day of the visit

You were practically running around, trying to look your absolute best for the prince. You were very intrigued by all the stories you heard the people tell.

“Children, please come to the courtyard, they are arriving!” You could hear Ned’s voice coming from downstairs. With a last glance at the mirror, and deciding you looked amazing as usual you went downstairs.

You took your spot next to your husband to be, who looked extremely happy to see you as he always does haha not. “Good morning Bran! Excited for the visit?” You almost shined with excitement. “Cant wait.” Bran first wanted to cancel the betrothal by making you and the prince a thing. But now as he heard you speak about the prince already without ever seeing him, and now seeing you radiating with energy he started to doubt his intentions.

Could it be possible that he didn’t want to lose you?

Well no time to think about it, Tommen is leaving the carriage and approaching him and you.

“Hello Bran, very nice to see you again. But who is this beautiful person next to you? Excuse me, but I never had the pleasure to mee you I think.” Tommen extended his hand which you gladly accepted, and he planted a gentle kiss on top of your hand.

“Your grace, my name is Y/N of the house Greenfield.” You were delighted that the prince even spoke to you.

“Ah the youngest of the Greenfields, I’ve heard stories about how you are considered one of the prettiest people alive. It is a pleasure to meet you.” Alright Bran was getting more annoyed by the second now, so the little devil he is decided to meddle a bit.

“I’m so lucky to have Y/N as my betrothed,” Bran wrapped his hands around you which took you by surprise. “I really have to thank my father for that.”

“Ah so you are the man lucky enough to be the betrothed of the prettiest person? Well consider yourself lucky Bran, I know a lot of people who would think not twice before offering their hand.”

“Yeah….. Very lucky indeed.” With that the Prince left to enter the castle and settle into a room.

“Alright what the fuck was that Bran?” you hissed at him.

“Whaaattttt? Can’t I appreciate my future wife?” He replied as if he had done nothing wrong.

“Well you didn’t do anything of the sorts the past 5 years so it’s a bit suspicious don’t you think?!”

You tried to walk away but he grabbed your hand and pulled you back in. “I meant what I said just now. Thought you should know.”

With that the future lord of Winterfell left you there standing alone in the middle of the courtyard. Very confused and stunned

You never truly disliked Bran but it seemed he did for a while. So where was this coming from?

“Y/N can you help me with my hair?” That was Sansa shouting at you from the window.

“I’m coming!”

The dinner disaster

What is it with people and placing people where they do not want to be?

On the head of the table was Ned, on his left side were Cathelyn, Arya, Sansa and Robb. On the other head was Cersei. To Ned’s right were Bran, you and then Tommen.

You were placed directly between them, how awkward.

“So Y/N, what do you enjoy doing these days here in Winterfell? I can imagine that it is very different than in the Vale.” The queen spoke to you. Oh my god she acknowledged you.

“Well you highness, even though it is indeed very different from the Vale I don’t think it are bad differences. The main one I had to adapt to is that it’s a bit colder. But as to what I enjoy doing, I really like to ride my horse in the woods. I enjoy reading in our library and recently I have followed some lessons alongside Sansa and Arya in stitching. Although I don’t know if that’s my thing or if it’s too “girly” for me.”

Next to speak was Tommen. “Reading and horseback riding? So many talents in one person, I imagine that the Gods decided to not divide it evenly and that someone missed out.” He said while clearly looking at Bran with the last statement.

Bran deciding to try to ignore Tommen as much as possible spoke to you in such a kind voice you thought he was a different person. “Y/N, what did you read as last again? I remember being very intrigued by it and I would like to read it as well.”

“Oh well, it was something called The history of the Throne. It was very interesting, the stories went back to almost the beginning of the Targaryen dynasty. It also described the dance of the dragons and all that drama in great detail!” You replied back sweetly, but speaking to Bran caused you to turn your back to Tommen which he didn’t really appreciate so he spoke again.

“Aha speaking about the dance of the dragons, do you like them? And who do you think was the rightful heir to the throne?”

So you turned around again now facing Tommen. “Do I like dragons? Who in their right mind doesn’t? The rightful heir, that a very difficult question. I fully understand Rhaenyra, buuuuutt I also understand where Alicent came from. She just thought that Viserys meant their son Aegon and from that point it all became very very confusing.” Tommen was smiling at the attention, Bran however was not.

Before he had the chance to speak the Queen spoke up and you were relieved to hear someone else speak for a while. You weren’t really listening so you were surprised when you heard your name being called by her. “Y/N, darling did you hear me?” “Sorry my Queen I was a bit distracted, could you repeat it for me please?” “I asked you if you like it here in Winterfell and if you look forward to your marriage with Bran?”

Bran grew anxious, if you said no he would be fucked and lose the person he loved.The queen would probably suggest you coming along with her and then marry the prince. Wait hold on did he just think that he loves you? Nono that must be a mistake right? I don’t love Y/N, or do I?

You noticed Bran spacing out and gently placed your hand on top of his and gave it a reassuring squeeze. This seemed to bring him back and he looked a bit surprised at you.

“My queen I can assure you that I’m really enjoying Winterfell and I coudnt be more excited for the wedding.” This seemed to shock almost everyone at the table, including Ned and Catelyn. Who tried on numerous occasions to change their sons mind.

“That’s good to hear. Tommen my dear, is everything okay? You look a bit pale.” All of your eyes went over to Tommen who indeed looked paler than normal, probably hoping you weren’t happy. You knew how Tommen must feel and pitied him a bit, so you leaned in close to him and whispered “I know a woman who would be lucky to meet you my prince, she is prettier than I am. Her name is Margaery Tyrell.”

Tommen instantly felt a lot better and couldn’t wait to leave Winterfell all of a sudden.

You and Bran? You guys got married the week after you turned 18, he is your little grumpy man.

#bran stark #bran stark x reader #game of thrones #x reader #game of thrones headcanons #game of thrones headcanon #brandon stark #starks of winterfell #house stark #game of thrones x reader #got imagines #game of thrones imagines

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firegirl888101 · 6 months

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How would the harbingers react to MC having a puppy? I have a three month old puppy rn who will literally eat anything he can get his teeth on and there’s no stopping him, hair, clothes, shoes, you name it he’s probably tried to eat it

(I'm going to start grouping Harbingers when I get an ask like this because I spent way too much time on the other one I did)

It would be a mixture of disgust, adoration and disappointment.

"What do you mean you got the mutt a couple of days ago? We've been here since last week! When did you have time to get that thing?"

Disgusted Harbingers: Sandrone, Pantalone, Signora

Adoration: Childe, Columbina

Disappointment: Pierro, Arlecchino, Dottore, Scaramouche

Unbothered: Pulcinella, Capitano

The Disgusted folk would just stay away from it. What do you mean you won't get rid of it? Just look at the amount of bacteria it has! Dottore would agree, wouldn't he? Dog's mouths are as dirty as a humans? Bullshit! They'd ask the other Harbingers to dispose of it because they don't want to associate themselves with it. When they refuse, the disgusted have decided to just ignore the creature. Maybe when they're left alone with the puppy they'll hesitantly interact with it, but they'll scrub their hands raw after before putting their gloves back on.

The Adoration folk would love to see another bright life bounce around the house! Plus, wouldn't playing with the puppy make you happy? They would love to sit down with you and play with the puppy together! What's its name? How old is it? Where did you get it from? They'll ask questions upon questions and never leave you alone! They find it funny when you complain about the puppy destroying your clothes, furniture, and even carpet! You're the owner, you have to clean the mess, not them! Whilst you're begrudgingly fixing and cleaning, they'll take care of the puppy don't worry! They're in good hands... Just make sure you make it clear they're still more important in your eyes, otherwise you might find the puppy in a dangerous situation.

The Disappointed folk would be disappointed for different reasons. Some would feel you definitely aren't ready, nor have the responsibility for the puppy. Some would feel you're fucking crazy for adopting a dog in your situation. Some would even feel that you getting a puppy is a stupid idea, why would you get a dog so young? You can't even tell it when to leave a room! How would you train it? However, all the people in this category would agree on one thing: the puppy is annoying as hell. The damned creature keeps chewing on their clothes and running away with their delusions in its mouth! They'll warn you to control your pet otherwise they'll kick it out the house. They quickly change their mind when they realise they don't own this house and you have every right as the owner to kick them out yourself, even if you'd never actually do that since you're too afraid of them.

The Unbothered folk wouldn't care. They'd acknowledge it and then move on with their day. Sure, they'll take care of feeding the puppy for you, but after that don't talk to them about doing favours for you when it comes to your pet. It belongs to you, so it's your responsibility. Well, they say that but when the puppy falls asleep on them they don't move it away from them at all. They lightly pet the sleeping puppy, tired from all the playing and running it's done around the house. You'll definitely take pictures and use it against them.

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fatuismooches · 9 months

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*kicks door open*

Saw that Dottore post talking in a different language in the middle of class. It will NOT stop me for brain rotting.

God he'd say everything and anything he wants to tell you in the language that attracts you the most and he'd laugh affectionately when you glate at him with a red face. He'd be SO teasing about it, calling you pet names you don't know the meaning of but he says it so sweet and tender that it makes ur heart beat so fast,, you'd see him leaving notes to you with lines of what it seems to be a poem and you dont understand at all, and the segments do it to you as well like!!! CMON 😭😭

They refuse to help you study the language bc it's not a collective thing they do and they all use so many different languages it makes ur head spin

IM IN SHAMBLES MOOCHES... THAT ANON GOT ME ON A FRENZY OF IDEAS IM CRYING GFAHGHGDHGRSAAGGHHHH

But imagine making ur own language just to level with dottore???? After learning it and developing it n becoming fluent, you burned all ur notes and documents of your own language and u watch him and the segments fume when you talk to him in a language he has never heard of

(Now imagine talking to a fellow harbinger with the said language, teaching them to further egg on him 🤭🤭🤭)

HCHKCHDOEHFOSIW this is kaiser and it's time for me to EXPLODE 💥💥💥

AHHUDWDWD THIS IS SO SO CUTE. IM BRAINROTTING SOOO HARD BEFORE CLASS UGHHH I LOVE THESE IDEAS😭😭❤️ He would be SO relentless with teasing you, you would literally have to BEG him to return to speaking in your native language because he is a monster ugh 😒😤 You would have no idea what he's saying no matter how much you try and plead for him to tell you... you eventually hear certain words so many times you just associate them with a pet name that you still have no clue as to what it is. You HATE how much he has you wrapped around his finger and blushing but you also love it because who doesn't love when the Doctor is so outwardly affectionate to you 😔❤️ tHE POEMS BRO. THE POEMS. I think he's also very bad at written affection but since it's in another language he has creative freedom 😭 you'll never know the disgusting sappy things he'll write. The clones being in on it is the funniest part lmao you thought they would be on your side 😭😭💔

oh MY GOD THOUGH READER MAKING THEIR OWN LANGUAGE IS MY FAVORITEEE PART!!!! I love when reader tries to one-up Dottore, like, two can play at that game honey, i'm not your lover for no reason 🤭 LMAO i can just imagine reader grinding out their language verbally and written, day and night, just to spite Dottore and make him feel what you feel >:)

The look on their faces would be PRICELESS. Dottore would ask you to repeat what you said and you would, happily, and then walk away as if what you said is everyday language... they would be scrambling to figure out what is going onnnnn 😭 HELP YESSS Pantalone, Bina, and Childe are the best candidates 🤭 He would be so annoyed at seeing you communicate with these three so jollying... ehehe also teaching his child clone the language too, because the baby would never betray you either and would stick his tongue out at the bribing of other clones.

DEEP BREATHES KAI DONT EXPLODE- 😭

#smooches talks #moots: kai <3 #dottore love notes <3 #zandy bb <3 #i love how we're all reading fanfics during class #actually this takes me back to a time when i was reading one of ur fics in class and my friend was watching me and i had to stop 😭#PLS SEND ANY MORE IDEAS IM BEGGING I LOVE UR WRITING #i cant i love this dynamic sm #how long do u think itll take for him to decipher ur language tho with that brain of his lmfao

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giggly-squiggily · 1 year

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Amazing, Showstopping, Glamorous Blue Lock Headcanons That Are Definitely True Ego Told Me So #1

Inspired by a friend and I yelling about Blue Lock lately. Some of these are yours, friend. Thank you for contributing to my madness :D

Don't now if I'm gonna make a part 2 but eh? We'll see where my next fever dream takes me.

Isagi un-ironically Naruto-ran throughout middle school. He thought it made him look cool and increased his speed. One day he was full blown running across the soccer field and took a heavy nose dive- breaking it. He stopped doing it after that.

Raichi's playlist is entirely made up of early 2000's/2010's pop hits. I'm talking Britney Spears, Destiny's Child, Ariana Grande, and his queen herself- Lady Gaga. Knows all the songs and dances and performs them at 2 am in the Blue Lock cafeteria when he thinks no one's up. Has been walked in on multiple times.

Chigiri has a very specific set of bookish characters that if their name is even referenced he will throw hands. You wanna see this soft spoken shy princess swear up a storm? Drop a name. "Hey Chigiri, who's Gale Hawthorne-" "Don't you ever speak that bastard's name in my presence again."

Kunigami loves All Might from My Hero Academia. He's not at the collector level Deku is in the show but he'll quote the Number 1 Hero ("Former-" "We don't talk about the other guy, Isagi. There's only All Might"). Only Isagi knows what he's saying; everyone else has heard "Plus Ultra" but doesn't really get it.

Bachira is a fantastic artist. He gets it from his momma and it shows! He likes to draw the monster a lot, but he has drawn everyone in the room at least once. Whenever he draws his friends, they'll have little decorations associated with them. (Kuni's got a cape, Chigiri's got a tiny crown, Isagi has his own monster.)

Nagi can do the worm. He does mainly when he's already on the floor and is too lazy to stand, so he just kinda wiggles over to wherever he needs to go. No one knows where he learned it but it's absolutely hilarious to watch.

Sae speaks fluid Spanish from his time in Spain. This comes very apparent after Shidou pissed him off so badly he chewed him out in it. The mentioned man finds it really sexy, even if Sae's calling him a "Colossal hemorrhoid I have the displeasure of having stuck up my ass."

Despite his love for Horror games/movies, Rin is beyond easy to jump scare. His argument is that in those settings he's prepared to get spooked. Bachira can be as silent as the wind when he wants to be, so accidental (and a lot of times intentional) spooks are common between them. ".......Hi Rin!" "FU-!"

Chigiri is a great singer but horrifically shy about it. He sings in the shower when he's sure no one is around. Most of the tunes he sings are ones his sister introduced him to- things like "Uptown Girl" and "Tiny Dancer"; but he knows a handful of newer ones. One time Bachira walked in on him. The dribbler told everyone he knew about it but Chigiri flat out refuses to sing in front of anyone so it's more a rumor.

Reo on the flip side is a horrible singer and refuses to believe anything otherwise. In his head, he is a god of vocals. In reality, he sounds like Toad from Super Mario getting tased in the balls. Nagi has learned the art of tuning him out, so he's no help in disproving Reo's false beliefs.

Gagamaru has been the resident bug catcher since the Blue Lock Spider Incident of 2018. He's the only one brave enough to gather them up in his hands and put them outside.

#Blue Lock #headcanons #brainrot hours #no spoilers unless you count Sae and Shidou being mentioned but nothing story/plotwise is dropped #isagi yoichi #bachira meguru #kunigami rensuke #chigiri hyoma #raichi jingo #nagi seishiro #reo mikage #rin itoshi #sae itoshi #shidou ryusei #gagamaru gin #I made myself laugh with these #thank you again to my friend (you know who you are)#You were the inspiration for these can't deny #ASGBLHCs

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my-castles-crumbling · 6 months

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Chapter 7- Clandestine

Guys. I am not being dramatic when I say that I suffered from so much Writer's Block during this chapter. I know it's not amazing, but that this point I just needed to put something out there. Please please leave notes and comments and kudos, I need encouragement. CW: Walburga is in this one, guys. Nuff said? If not, transphobia, dysphoria, child abuse, unsafe binding, misgendering, deadnaming, all of those things.

The dream was always the same, now. His mother and father, backing him into a corner, wands raised, jeering at him.

Screaming his old name.

Repeating insults and promising horrible things, choking him with frills and lace.

He would always wake with a scream.

Barty and Evan swore he was cracking with the pressure of exams. Barty suggested drugs. Regulus chucked pillows at him.

“We have a plan, Reg,” Sirius reassured him one warm day in May.

It was true. They had a plan. That was all Regulus could remind himself as the days continued to warm.

A month at home. Then, he was to go to Dorcas’s and Sirius was to go to the Potters’.

A month. He could do that. He’d done it before. He had Sirius.

“I still don’t understand why Mother and Father agreed to my going to Cas’s house at all,” Regulus murmured back, not meeting Sirius’s concerned eyes.

That was how Sirius usually looked at him now- with worry and concern. He hated making Sirius worry, hated making anyone worry, but It didn’t help that he was a mess, with deep circles under his eyes and constantly wincing when he moved because of how tight he kept the bandages.

Sirius suggested, once, that he loosen them, but he refused. He hated the feeling of being without them. The nausea. The cold chills. And they kept him grounded, somehow. A reminder that he could fight against his body. Even though he felt, some days, like he was losing. Losing against everything, really.

“I…I think they’re just thankful that you want to be friends with a girl,” Sirius suggested gently.

Regulus mulled that over. He’d always rejected associating with girls, always pushed so much to not be grouped with his girl cousins, that his parents were probably rejoicing at the idea of him spending time with a pureblood girl. As if maybe Dorcas would have a good influence on him.

“Well, if they think she’ll make me more girly, they have another thing coming,” Regulus chuckled humorlessly. Dorcas was fierce and passionate and intelligent and relentless and bold. But she rejected bows and dresses almost as much as Regulus did.

“Yes, but they don’t have to know that,” Sirius grinned, knocking Regulus with his shoulder.

It was strange, how the days seemed to pass faster and faster as it got warmer. It was as if they were trying to run away, like they knew Regulus was grasping to them for dear life, and they would do anything to escape his hold.

The idea that he would only have to be home for a month sustained him. It kept him from completely freaking out. He felt the panic underneath his very skin, but he didn't let it break free.

Admittedly, he got sick of the way Sirius and his friends kept looking at him- like he was going to burst into tears or have some sort of fit. It made it worse. Like they thought he was fragile. Girls were fragile. He was not. He was...he could be...strong. He didn't want to worry anyone.

He was terrified, too, that if he became a burden, people would be less likely to indulge him. That they would see him as an inconvenience and stop helping him.

That was the only problem with the happiness that came with being who he was. He was petrified to lose it. And he needed people's help, at least for now, to continue.

He hated needing them, but he did need them. He needed Sirius's old uniforms and Pandora's biology know-how and Dorcas's haircutting charms. He needed them to call him but his name and remind him he wasn't crazy.

So he held the nerves and emotions inside, fearful of being too much, and reminded himself over and over again.

Only a month. Only a month.

His parents still had no idea he was called "Regulus" at school- that he was in the boys' dorms and was accepted as a boy there. He'd managed to hide his original letter from Hogwarts. So, he and Sirius decided he would avoid leaving the train for as long as possible when they arrived. That would stop anyone from referring to him as “Regulus” in front of his parents, and stop his parents from using his old name in front of his friends.

So as the train squealed to a stop and students piled out, he sat in the window, watching those he knew reunite with their families.

Dorcas ran to her exhausted-looking grandparents and hugged them eagerly, allowing her siblings to surround her and embrace her as well. She looked so thrilled, so relieved to see her family. The children were dressed in threadbare clothing but they still looked happy. Their smiles and rosy cheeks somehow made up for their mismatched outfits and array of obvious hand-me-downs.

In stark contrast, across the platform, Barty walked up to a very smartly-dressed man. It was clear this man had money- the way he held himself just oozed affluence. The man, Barty’s father, looked down on him with obvious distaste, gesturing towards Barty’s Slytherin tie. Regulus inhaled a bit as Barty visibly deflated, shrugging and making some sort of halfhearted comment back, only for the man to turn quickly and lead his son from the station. Anger riled a bit in Regulus’s stomach.

He then spotted Evan and Pandora walking slowly and waving goodbye to friends and towards Regulus on the train, looking around for their parents. Regulus realized only a moment after Evan and Pandora, themselves, that their parents weren’t there. His chest constricted as he saw a very meek-looking house elf walk towards them. They exchanged a glance before walking toward the elf, who they seemed to recognize, and the three of them walked towards the Floo connection in the back of the station wordlessly.

As they disappeared, Regulus took a moment to control his fury. Their parents didn’t even come for them. As they returned from their first year of Hogwarts. They sent the house elf. He wanted to punch the wall. He realized with a pang that he wasn't the only one of his friends who was in for a difficult summer.

In an effort to distract himself from this thought, he turned his head to watch someone else. Anyone else. And of course, his eyes found James Potter. They did that a lot.

He was walking toward a tall, handsome man with dark hair and glasses, who was grinning from ear to ear; and a shorter, chubby woman with tan skin and kind eyes, whose hair reached all the way down her back.

It was clear, very quickly, that the man and woman were Potter’s parents. Their features, their warmth, their laughter…even if they weren’t both hugging Potter, it would have been easy to see.

And then Sirius approached, waving a bit hesitantly. And in one fell swoop, the woman pulled Sirius in her arms, making him grin and blush a bit, as the four of them began talking quickly to each other.

And Regulus felt the insane urge to join them. To place himself in the middle of their four-way embrace and just drink in the obvious warmth there.

He felt the slightest tinge of jealousy seep through his body as he watched Sirius so easily meld into their little family, so easily receive love.

While he waited on the train alone.

“How was your first year, Regina? I trust you did well?”

The question at dinner that night hit him hard, the name stabbing white-hot, even more than usual after not having heard it for a year. He resisted the urge to upend the table.

What should he say?

“Regulus is top in his class, Mother,” came Sirius’s cold-but-proud voice from across the table.

Regulus fought back the urge to smile at Sirius’s pride. It was true. He’d aced every single one of his final exams.

But there was a beat of silence as it seemed Mother and Father were trying to decide how to react to Sirius’s statement.

Finally, Mother said, in a voice filled with cold fury, “Regulus?”

It was clear what she meant. She did not mean to address him. She meant to ask what Sirius meant by the name. Why he was still using it.

And suddenly, Regulus felt as if he was at a crossroads. He could submit to his parents for the summer, like he had been terrified to do. Play their games, allow them to scare him and control him. Or…

He looked at Sirius, who was looking back at him, that same sympathetic expression on his face. And all at once, he felt a stab of anger and bravery strike him.

He pasted an angelic smile on his face. “Yes, mother?” he asked politely, as if responding to his name being called.

Sirius’s mouth popped open and he grinned.

Regulus felt a moment of triumph and pride.

But then both he and Sirius yelled out at once, an invisible spell striking them both in the face.

“Do not use that name in my house,” Mother growled, chin raised and eyes flashing. "And if you dare embarrass our house with this little...illness anymore, Regina...your father and I will have to resort to more drastic measures.

Fighting back the sense of for guilt getting Sirius hurt but unable to be scared, Regulus just slammed his silverware down and left the room silently.

Was it better to get something you’ve yearned for for so long only to have someone try to rip it away from you again? Or just not get it at all?

This was the thing Regulus contemplated constantly over the next few weeks.

His parents were ruthless.

They seemed to still believe he only acted like this at home, that it was still a phase- an act of rebellion- and they had the chance to change it. It was as if they’d made an agreement to come down even harder on him this summer, to try to physically stomp the fight out of him. Like they’d agreed that, if they tried hard enough, they could exorcise any evidence of masculinity in him. Like a demon.

If he dared insist he was a boy, he was locked in his room. If he had the gall to correct anyone on his name, he was hit.

He was refused multiple meals for point-blank rejecting the dresses Mother bought him and had spells shot at him for continuously washing the makeup off his face when she wasn’t looking.

But this year, it was different.

He remembered, last year, the place he had been in. The shell he had become. He had been so tired, so hopeless, so frustrated. He’d tried to fight, but he’d had no idea who he was or how to be who he was. Despite Sirius’s best efforts, he’d never been given a true chance. The fight that had left him and the numbness he had felt had been like a trickle of water into his lungs, slowly drowning him without him even realizing.

But after a year at Hogwarts, a year of living, he couldn’t feel like that again. He couldn’t force himself back into that box. He knew better.

So he found it easier and less scary to fight and take the pain, because he knew it was better this way. Better than the way he reacted when submitting to their expectations or being someone he was not.

So, really, having gotten to be who he was for just a little while gave him the fight to remember who he was when he was being hurt and questioned and screamed at. When they tried to force him to forget.

After three weeks, though, it still took a toll.

He survived.

He lost far too much weight from the meals he wasn’t given.

He had layers of magically hidden bruises from his Mother’s wrath.

He winced and groaned as he pulled the bandages around his growing chest tiger still. He had heat rashes, now, and his skin was on fire.

He hated his body.

But he kept quiet. He didn’t allow anyone to see him in pain. He felt like that would be admitting defeat.

He also knew that if he showed his pain too much, Sirius would try to do more for him. And part of him was scared that Sirius would get sick of that. That he would leave him alone. Like he had when he'd gone to Hogwarts the first time.

Only twice did Sirius catch him crying. And both times, Sirius's startled look sent them both into waves of tears.

They survived together.

He’d stressed for days about going to Dorcas’s with long hair. He tried not to let it show, but he knew Sirius knew.

At Hogwarts, he cut it regularly. Dorcas knew a charm. But Mother and Father had taken both his and Sirius’s wands, and hidden anything sharp. They’d insisted he would do well to grow it out.

Instead, he worried.

But Sirius snuck into his room the night before they were both due to leave and led him to the bathroom, sitting him in the tub and taking a pair of scissors out from his pocket.

“Where’d you get those?” Regulus breathed, hardly daring to speak in more than a whisper. Mother and Father had been a lot more vigilant about checking to see if they were sneaking into each other’s rooms- they thought that Sirius was a bad influence.

“I sent Procyon to James and asked for a pair. I didn’t tell him why,” Sirius murmured, gently sitting on the edge of the tub behind him and snipping away.

Procyon was the family owl. But he was usually locked in his cage when not in use. “How–”

“Remus taught me how to pick locks the Muggle way,” Sirius cut him off, a smile in his voice. Snip. “It took a few nights of trying, but I finally got him out. Good he got some exercise, it’s not like Mother and Father use him often.”

Walburga and Orion preferred Floo calls or in-person meetings. Something about the post not being trustworthy.

“So they didn’t catch you?” Regulus asked, trying to hide the emotion in his voice.

Snip. “Don’t think so. Hold still, you’re squirming.”

But Regulus had to turn to face Sirius. Again, he was risking being caught and subsequently punished. Just for him. “I…thank you. For doing that.”

Sirius studied him for a moment, then smiled softly. “You’re worth it, Reggie.”

And Regulus turned away, not sure how to respond to that, instead just focusing on the feeling of the cool metal brushing his skin.

Let it be known that Sirius did not gain his dramatics in a vacuum. Walburga Black was known to be vindictively theatrical in her own special way.

Or maybe she was just pissed about his hair. Either way, she waited until the morning to tell them: Regulus was only allowed to go to Dorcas’s if she deemed Dorcas and her grandparents “appropriate.”

Regulus panicked. There was no way. Dorcas was the farthest thing from what his parents could count as appropriate- her fiery personality was far from ‘ladylike’ and she certainly would never refer to him as anything other than “Regulus.”

And the worst part was that Regulus had no way to warn her. Sirius had left before him for the Potters, and he was the best at coming up with plans. It all happened in a matter of moments. One second, he was packing, and the next Walburga was insisting she needed to make sure that Regulus would finally be around a 'good influence.' That she no longer would just be sending him through the Floo, she would be apparating him and meeting Dorcas and her family properly. Without leaving much time for argument, she dragged Regulus out the door.

Dorcas’s house was small. Especially for a family of seven. As they approached, Regulus took in the run-down lawn and obviously old exterior. The lawn was not cut and the paint of the house was peeling. He felt a pang of guilt as he thought back to the obnoxiously expensive way his parents had decorated their own house.

Walburga didn’t hesitate and rapped on the door firmly, sending birds in the tree nearby flying away.

Regulus’s heart hammered as they waited. He started picturing all of the things Mother could say to completely mortify him. Yes, Dorcas knew. But they had never discussed what she was going to tell her family. And she had never seen Regulus around his parents. The way his mother treated him. Maybe she saw him as a boy now, but after Walburga was through? Things would change, he was sure.

The door opened slowly. “Hello, can I help you?”

It was Dorcas. Thankfully, she looked decently put together. (Not that Regulus minded- he’d seen her in her pajamas enough to not care. But he knew his mother would judge.)

Walburga still looked down her nose at Dorcas, of course. And then…“Yes, is your mother home?” she asked snootily. Regulus blanched. He had told her. Told her that Dorcas was raised by her grandparents. Why was she so insensitive–? “My grandmother is here,” Dorcas answered simply, not allowing her expression to change.

Regulus tried to shoot her an apologetic glance even as he wanted to strangle his mother.

Dorcas left, only to return with the older woman from the train station. “How can I help you?” the woman asked politely.

With no introduction, Walburga started in. “I’d like to talk to you about my daughter before I leave her with you. I want to make sure your home is….appropriate for Regina.” Walburga spoke in almost a snarl, not bothering to keep the accusation out of her voice.

Daughter. Her. Regina. He fought back a gag. His hands shook. He felt goosebumps all over his body, as if his own skin was trying to reject the words. He studied Dorcas’s face, searching for disgust there, his heart pounding with fear and anticipation.

But Dorcas spoke up, confidently, her expression seemingly warm, but Regulus could detect a hint of fakeness. “We’re very excited to have Regina. We’ll make sure she’s very safe here.”

Regulus’s mouth popped open audibly, and he felt tears form in his eyes before he could stop them. Hearing his old name come from Dorcas’s mouth was worse, somehow. Why was it worse? His brain reeled and he felt his stomach roil, but then Dorcas threw him a sharp glance, tilting her head just slightly at Regulus’s mother.

His visibly pleased mother.

And it clicked.

“Yes, Dorcas has told me all about Regina,” Dorcas’s grandmother agreed brightly, also throwing Regulus a meaningful look. “She’s always welcome and safe here.”

Regulus blinked. He looked back and forth between the two adults, who seemed to now be in some sort of stare-off. He decided to go for broke and really sell it. “Cas promised to teach me how to straighten my hair,” he murmured, trying to make his voice sound high-pitched and excited, while simultaneously holding back his breakfast.

Walburga looked at him for a moment and Regulus knew he had her. As protective of her reputation as she was, Walburga would never outright ask if he was introducing himself as Regulus in school or telling his friends about his ‘problem.’ That would be admitting in the first place that he wasn’t the 'perfect daughter.'

So all she could do was…

“Alright. Lovely to meet you, then.”

And that was that.

Please please leave comments and kudos and love and read the WIP here!

Credit to @betweendyingstars whose beautiful fanart partially inspired a scene in this chapter, though their version of Sirius and Reggie are older.

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gendrie · 7 months

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How do you see Sansa’s story unfolding in TWOW? People seem to want to rush it so she can get to Winterfell and kill LF, but she can’t have the Vale’s knights without the consent of the lord of the Eyrie (I don’t know why that’s so overlooked) so SR needs to die so she can marry Harry, but at the same time she’s married to Tyrion and LF is obsessed with her. He brags about taking the Tully girls’ virginity, and I’m sure he won’t be happy with the prospect of Harry having her before he does. And no one can tell me the Vale lords will be fine with SR’s sudden death and have no suspicions. Things won’t be that simple. I’m of the opinion Sansa will only slay LF after she learns what happened to Jeyne. Maybe Arya will return from Braavos with Jeyne? Dunno, but I know Arya will tell Sansa about it. Arya’s mere existence ruins LF’s plans. While there’s a Stark succession crisis going on in the North Arya returns with Robb’s crown and LF’s freaks out and tries to sow intrigues between the sisters. He’s too important an antagonist to be shoved aside that early.

you covered a lot of my thoughts on the subject. most of the fandom is just not engaging with sansa's material beyond a desire to see her as the qitn who never did anything wrong so they cut out the vale shenanigans, not unlike d&d, and imagine her going directly to wf to be fawned as the most perfect lady. for some thats the full extent of their investment in asoiaf lol.

but theres no reason for her to go up up north asap. nobody is checking for her, no weirwood is calling her name, no direwolves howling in her dreams, no magical association, ect. her arc is almost entirely devoid of northern symbolism tbh. she's never even spoken to a northern character on page who wasnt a relative or her bestie. and yet the fandom refuses to even entertain alternative courses for her.

whether or not littlefinger is telling the truth is kind of secondary now that he's revealed his plot to the audience. storytelling convention dictates that it will not come to pass. but i dont think he's being entirely forthcoming anyway. i suspect his plan is actually to frame harry (who seemingly has the most to gain) for sweetrobin's death. thats been his entire M.O. since day one (see jon arryn, see joffrey, see lysa) i agree that theres no way littlefinger intends to marry the object of his obsession to another man too. thats like losing catelyn to brandon/ned all over again. not that he could marry her off even if he wanted because tyrion refuses to die.

i also agree that jeyne p. will play into this. the fact that sansa hasn't heard about "arya stark's" marriage is downright conspicuous at this point. almost everybody (arya included) heard about it in storm. she heard about jon being elected lord commander already too. that was easily brushed off. as was littlefinger's revelation that he intends to kill sweetrobin. i don't think she will be able to brush off arya/jeyne, though. how she finds out remains to be seen, but i do think its likely grrm is withholding this info from sansa for a reason.

littlefinger's got his work cut out for him. he is not accounting for robb's will which names jon a stark and the heir to robb's kingdom, nor for bran, rickon and the real arya stark. this will give sansa a lot to deal with too. for good and ill. her siblings are alive, but she has been removed from the line of succession. that will sting and yeah, arya will obviously intend to give the crown to jon which will create conflict between the sisters.

ultimately, i think a variety of factors will cause sansa to turn on littlefinger. the biggest might be, simply, that he corrupted her for nothing. he's a liar and fraud and he hasnt done anything for her. he's tricked her into forgetting that with a promise of wf, but it won't last. she's going along with his plan to murder a child, her own cousin, but it won't give her what she wants in the end. the fantasy will be destroyed. when that realization hits her she will move against him.

#ask #theres not a lot of genuine speculation for sansa out there #most its just like #she will defeat LF in her next chap and then the vale will deliver her to wf where she sits pretty forevermore #like ok damn than im revoking her main character status lol

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livewireatalanta · 3 months

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task 001. muse dossier NADIA ATALANTA; "LIVE WIRE"

Dragged by the wind / Taken by the stars / Carried with the madness and scars. -"Dark Matter", Les Friction **art credit: Vietnamese Holy Beasts by Xuân Lam

BASICS.

𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐄. Huỳnn Loan Phượng The name on Nadia's birth certificate is her family name, Huỳnn, her middle name, Loan and her given name, Phượng. The luan is a deified bird across East Asian mythology, often representing an omen of peace to come and virtue. The phượng hoàng (pictured in the banner art of this post) is commonly referred to as the "Chinese phoenix," a composite creature made up several birds (which often change) and other animals. Its body represents celestial bodies and the 5 fundamental colors of its feathers represent the 5 virtues of Confucius. While it does not bear many similarities to the Western phoenix, there is an association with fire, as it is said to have been born of the sun and is commonly depicted with a fireball. It is a positive symbol, often an omen of peace, prosperity, and happiness, but also represents loyalty and honesty.

Nadia Atalanta Growing up in middle America in the late eighties/nineties meant that Nadia was encouraged to pick an "American" name that was "easier" for American teachers and friends to pronounce. Nadia was chosen from a list of names her first grade teacher had (a little dated, as she believes "Nadia" was there due to the popularity of Nadia Comăneci in the seventies). Atalanta was the call sign given to Nadia when she joined MTF Delta-5. In Greek mythology, Atalanta is associated with Jason and the Argonauts and was a disciple of Artemis. Prior to those adventures, she refused to marry unless her suitor could best her in a footrace.

𝐍𝐈𝐂𝐊𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐒. None. Some of the more childish members of MTF Xi-13 took to calling her "Nads." She provides her current surname, "Atalanta," when asked her preference. (She will be rolling her eyes at all of their new call signs and will probably be huffy about responding to "Live Wire.") If you call her Nadia, well...you had better be Dying Breed.

𝐅𝐀𝐂𝐄 𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐈𝐌. Levy Tran

𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐔𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐅𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐄𝐒. A long-healed scar around the left side of her chin not quite reaching her bottom lip; a deep scar that looks like gouged claw marks at the center of her abdomen and trailing off toward her left hip; an uneven circle of puncture scars around her right shoulder that sure does look like something bit her...but what has a mouth that large? She's usually seen with her shoulder-length hair done in twin French braids, tight, down the back of her head. When not in tactical or field gear, she's likely to be wearing a sweatshirt or flannel that doesn't seem to fit right, too large and for a more masculine frame (these items belonged to her brother).

𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐎𝐎𝐒 / 𝐏𝐈𝐄𝐑𝐂𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒. She has two piercings in both ear lobes but rarely wears anything in them. No tattoos, despite Levy Tran's extensive artwork. Nadia is still living by the regulations of MTF Delta-6 and undercover best practices.

𝐀𝐆𝐄 / 𝐃.𝐎.𝐁. 38 / January 25, 1985

𝐙𝐎𝐃𝐈𝐀𝐂. Aquarius Sun, Scorpio Moon, Taurus Rising. All Nadia knows is that she’s an Aquarius and that makes her an air sign. Anything beyond that is out of her range.

𝐇𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐓𝐎𝐖𝐍. A suburb of Rockford, Illinois. She usually just says "Chicago," because it's easier.

𝐅𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐘. Mother, deceased 2011 Father, resides in Boston Brother, deceased 2017 Nadia's father left when she was a child and she has had no contact with him since. Her mother died of complications from lung cancer in 2011. Her brother, Mark, was her twin. They were recruited into the Foundation together and shared an apartment (when Nadia was home). He was a researcher primarily focused on habitation of anamolies in containtment. His death was the result of a fatal containment breach and the official ruling is that Mark's lack of adherence to protocol caused said breach. As you may imagine, Nadia does not believe this and has tried to discover anything she can about the incident.

𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑 / 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐍𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐒. Cis woman; she/her/hers

𝐒𝐄𝐗𝐔𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐘. Bisexual

𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐀𝐋 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐒. Single. Never married. Dare you to ask a second follow up.

𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐓𝐒. Level-headed, just, resourceful

𝐍𝐄𝐆𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐓𝐒. Stubborn, defensive, sarcastic

𝐇𝐀𝐁𝐈𝐓𝐒. Unnerving eye contact, going barefoot in private quarters, wearing her brother's clothes, a weakness for high-end body and hair care products, usually has a packet of some kind of candy on her person and will be pulling it out to snack on noisily during boring meetings, prefers Dr Pepper to coffee but makes an exception for Barb's vanilla caramel lattes, seems like a smoker but really only does it socially or when peer pressured in the field or when trying to annoy Dying Breed by stealing his cigarette, generally eats like a teenaged boy (in taste and quantity), as of late has been relying on misuse of prescription medication to sleep more

𝐇𝐎𝐁𝐁𝐈𝐄𝐒. Watching documentaries, doing puzzles (of all kinds), strength and combat training, running outdoors, reading historical books (nonfiction and fiction alike), visiting fine art or natural history museums

𝐏𝐄𝐓𝐒 (𝐋𝐄𝐅𝐓 𝐀𝐓 𝐇𝐎𝐌𝐄). none.

THE FOUNDATION.

𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐅𝐅 𝐓𝐈𝐓𝐋𝐄. Ranked Corporal as MTF Operative with MTF Chi-00

𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐕𝐈𝐎𝐔𝐒 𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍(𝐒). Operative with Decommissioning Department (2023 - 2024) MTF Operative (Corporal); MTF Xi-13: Sequere Nos (2019 - 2023) MTF Operative (Sergeant); MTF Delta-5: Front Runners (2008 - 2019)

𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐓 𝐀𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐆𝐍𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓: Decommissioning Department Nadia has only been with the Decomissioning Department for a few months. Prior to this post, she was on 8 months of medical leave due to injuries sustained during the incident with SCP-192001-01 while with MTF XI-13.

𝐒𝐊𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐒 / 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐅𝐈𝐂𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄𝐒: Fluent/conversational in several languages (English, Vietnamese, Latin, Spanish, Greek; Cantonese, French, German, Italian), hand-to-hand combat, knife/blade combat, basic firearms, basic SERE skills, undercover work

EXTRAS.

𝐁𝐈𝐎𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐏𝐇𝐘. Nadia was recruited into The Foundation directly out of upper-education, concurrent with her brother, Mark, in the greater Chicago metro area. Both Nadia and Mark excelled quickly, she in field work and infiltration and he in research and containment. Mark would eventually become respected within the Experimental Containment Research group and Nadia would be assigned to Mobile Task Force: Delta-5: “Front Runners.”

The majority of her career was spent with Delta-5. There, she proved intelligent, adept, and obedient. She expressed a deep satisfaction for the work within MTF Delta-5 and it has been reported from multiple supervisors throughout this time that Nadia was one of the brightest operatives they had seen in an age. The general consensus was that she would achieve MTF Commander at an exceptionally young age.

In 2017, Mark entered into a routine encounter with an anomaly that would prove fatal. Officially, the Foundation maintains that failure to adhere to protocol led to Mark’s death. Nadia vehemently disagrees, as Mark was always meticulous. Directly following his death, inquiries were made and the initial decision was upheld. Nadia has refused to accept the Foundation’s explanation. Most information and files related to his death and the incident have been expunged and data-locked.

Following 3 months of leave, Nadia returned to active duty. Her discipline had collapsed and her behavior became erratic and dangerous. There were numerous disciplinary warnings and write-ups, culminating in the incident with a member of GoI-004: “Church of the Broken God,” where Nadia deliberately sabotaged her cover to enter into an unprovoked physical altercation. She was reassigned to Mobile Task Force Xi-13: “Sequere Nos” as a consequence. There was a successful, largely uneventful year with MTF Xi-13 – and then the encounter with SCP-19-2001-1.

Nadia’s assignment has been in flux for the past year since the encounter with SCP-192001-01. Directly following the incident, she was remanded to 6 months of medical leave. An additional 3 months of mental health leave was recommended, but Nadia declined. Since returning from leave, she has been working in the Department of Decommissions.

𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒. Paragon, Fallen Nadia used to be an exemplar within the Mobile Task Forces, particularly MTF Delta-5. She rose through ranks fast and easy, enjoying her work and eager to gain her own command. That's all in shambles, now, but it if your character has been through MTFs, they may have heard about Atalanta, or any of her triumphs from the earlier days. If not, there's still the chance that your character worked with MTF Xi-13 and could have encountered the current shade of Nadia. Personal Project Nadia is still desperate to find out exactly what happened to her brother. I can definitely see her picking the brains of anyone who might have information, whether about that specific incident or just containment and breaches in general. Hand-to-Hand When she's not avoiding everyone in her room, Nadia will likely be training in the gym facilities. While she prefers to train solo, she also loves to spar and practice combat. If your character is a fighter, or would like to be, they could potentially cross on the mat. Wilderness Scouts Nadia has not joined the Walking Club (Seriously?), but she is often wandering through the wooded area around the base. While she is absolutely looking for solitude on these treks (with the rare exception being made for Dying Breed), your character could encounter her and, if they're quiet, they may just be allowed to walk with her.

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑 / 𝐍𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐏𝐄𝐒. Action Girl, Aloof Dark-Haired Girl, Angsty Surviving Twin, Braids of Action, Chosen Zero, Deadpan Snarking, Final Girl, Haunted Hero, Ice Queen/Defrosting the Ice Queen, The Paragon Always Rebels, Seeker, Showing Up Chauvinists, Tsundere, Twin Telepathy

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐏𝐈𝐑𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒. Alanna of Trebond (Song of the Lioness Quartet), Veronica Mars (eponymous), Jessica Jones (Marvel Cinematic Universe), Rosa Diaz (Brooklyn 99), Megara (Hercules, 1997), Jyn Erso (Rogue One), Dana Scully (The X-Files), Rogue (The X-Men)

𝐌𝐄𝐌𝐄𝐒.

#fhq.task #tell a hunter's gun ; about #parental death tw #death tw #cancer tw #drugs tw #xenophobia tw #[all just mentions but better safe than sorry!]

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