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touyastearss · 1 year

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Intimidation (Shigure x F!Reader Smut)

Shigure Sohma x Female!Reader

WARNING: dubcon, age gap, manipulation, corruption, loss of innocence, exhibitionism, dacryphilia, loss of virgnity, slut shaming, toxic relationship

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You find Shigure scary. He likes that.

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"Um....Shigure?", you spoke meekly, slightly nervous to be interrupting him during his work. He was sitting at his desk, body facing you and the door that you hid behind. The man sat writing had given you no reason to feel intimidated so far, always kind and welcoming, despite the distance you felt between the two of you that wasn't there with Kyo or Yuki, though you just brushed it off as being due to age. Shigure was, by all means, an adult. And that wasn't to say that you weren't- you'd passed that mark over a year ago, but Shigure was different. He was experienced in life outside your little village, known people far different than you ever had, and had so much more experience in life. Maybe that's why you'd always felt so intimidated by him.

Maybe.

You felt your face drop at this, you'd spent the last few days planning a movie day for the three of you to spend time with each other again, seeing as they'd both been so busy these last weeks. But of course, the timing had to be unfortunate.

You tensed slightly as he looked up, reading glasses hanging off the edge of his nose as he sat in less than professional clothing, though you doubted it really made a difference, to say he was a writer.

"Yes, Y/N?" He called out, voice laced with an expectant tone that suggested you might be wasting his time. You gulped, shaking your head.

"Sorry for interrupting you, I didn't-"

"Come into the room. I can't hear you very well through the door, believe it or not", he said dryly, a sarcastic comment that had your face heating up, embarrassment creeping through your body. You stepped inside, hands reaching to pull at your sleeves as you shifted uncomfortably on your feet under his gaze.

"Sorry, I was just wondering if you'd seen Kyo by any chance?" He didn't move his gaze from your face, and you had no doubt that your discomfort was clearly visible, but he made no sign of acknowledgment, instead simply shaking his head impassively at you.

"No, I'm afraid I haven't, though I do vaguely remember him mentioning something about going out earlier- Yuki too."

You froze for a second, slightly taken aback, before making your way over to his desk and standing awkwardly beside him. He leaned back on his chair, eyeing you with a scrutinizing gaze. You played with the hem of your skirt, a motion he picked up on quickly.

"Oh." You simply replied, shoulders slumping and a small frown on your face.

"Why? Am I not good enough for your entertainment? Too old and boring?", he teased, feigning offense with a clench of his heart.

"Oh, no, no", you protested, awkwardly shaking your hands in denial, "that's not what I meant. I just..." You trailed off, heart beating quickly under Shigure's gaze. He sighed, removing his glasses and folding them neatly beside his paper, before beckoning you over with a long finger.

"Are you nervous, Y/N?" The wholly confrontational question had you stunned, and you found yourself unsure whether or not to nod. You shook your head lightly. "Do I make you nervous?" You shook your head again, this time quicker, and in response received a light-hearted laugh. "I think you're lying to me. I think you're very nervous right now," he leaned forward, hands interlocked as he rested his chin on top, a charming smile directed your way. "And why might that be?". This time you didn't miss the smirk pulled on his lips, and you exhaled shakily as you looked into his grey eyes. "No answer? Maybe I should show you I'm not so scary, hmm?" He was silent for a moment, grey eyes watching yours in amusement. "Come sit here", you looked down at his hand patting his lap, eyes flickering back and forth between his devious smile and the gentle patting motion.

You reluctantly pulled your head back, avoiding his gaze as you looked up, but was taken by surprise when he pressed his lips to yours lightly, a kiss that hardened as the seconds passed, until you pulled back, gasping for breath. You stared at him, eyes wide in wonder, and he stared down at you, his own laced with lust. You leaned back in, hands grabbing his body as you clumsily kissed him, Shigure almost laughing at your obvious inexperience. His hands pulled at your clothes as you whined in his grasp. His fingers reached under your skirt, sliding along the thin fabric before pulling back with a smirk. "You're wet", he commented, a mischievous glint in his eye as he watched you squirm uncomfortably.

You'd never gotten this close with Shigure before; not even with Kyo or Yuki, and whilst you may have been physically innocent, you weren't blind as to what his motions insinuated. But for some reason, it didn't throw you off, it didn't scare you. Instead, you found yourself stepping closer to him, straddling yourself over his lap, and facing his chest.

"You know, I don't think you're scared of me after all. I think it's something else." His words only proved to confirm your thoughts, the shame in knowing your feelings for him were so obvious was too painful. You leaned into his chest, hiding your face in embarrassment as he laughed down at you, hands soothing on your back. "It's okay, baby," the nickname felt sinful on his lips, and you shuddered at his voice being so close to your ear, "don't feel embarrassed, you're too pretty to hide your face."

He reached down, hands finding their way under your skirt before skillfully removing your panties. He brushed his fingers lightly over your sex, fingers pressing down on your clit gently, making you squirm in his grasp. He tightened his hold on you, fingers rubbing tight circles with the bundle of nerves. You were heating up, tense body gradually relaxing in his caged arms as an undeniable pleasure took over.

Something about your inexperience was so delicious to him. You had no idea what you were doing, and he was prepared to use this to his full advantage. He wanted to watch you squirm underneath him. "You've never done this before?" He asked softly, hands trailing their way down your body lightly, and you shook your head again, body trembling on his lap. His touch felt good, it felt right. And you wanted more. But suddenly he pulled away, a frown on his face as he looked down at you. "Thought so. Guess I'll have to go gentle then, huh? Always a pain." He tsked, his act going way over your head as your eyes opened in panic. You grabbed the sleeves of his shirt, pulling his hands back to your body with wide eyes.

"N-no...it's okay. You don't have to..." You spoke softly, not wanting to be a burden to the man that had taken you in. You were sure you could handle whatever was to come. His hands fell upon your sides again, a smile taking over his face as he looked down at you.

"Yeah? You're gonna take it like a good girl?", you nodded quickly, "That's what I like to hear."

His fingers slowly dipped down, pressing gently as his fingers entered you, thrusting into you at a slow, steady pace. You stifled a squeak at a particularly good thrust, hands jumping up to clamp over your mouth in sheer embarrassment. You prayed he hadn't heard it as his fingers worked their way in and out of you, but the sudden stop told you otherwise.You looked up at Shigure with a confused, desperate look, hips moving desperately to regain the feeling he had taken away, and this time you couldn't hold in your whine when he pulled them out completely.

You felt your body tightening up, legs shaking uncontrollably at the sudden intense feeling."Oh my God, stop, Shigure, 's too much, please", his speed increased as his eyes lit up cruelly, pulling your gaze to meet his as you continued babbling your pleas. "Shigure, no, I think, ah, I think I'm-"

"Why?", you asked, tears of frustration soon going as you saw the look on his face. He was utterly unimpressed, displeased and he looked irritated.

"So now you want to make noise?" he questioned, eyebrows furrowing harshly. "Don’t try that again. I want to hear you, understood?" You nodded dumbly, surprised at the revelation, but for some reason, he still looked displeased. "I said," he pulled his fingers together, lightly slapping at your clit, causing you to jolt in his hold, "understood?".

"Aah- yes, yes, understood, Shigure, I'm sorry", you cried out moaning when his fingers re-entered you without a word, harshly prodding deep into your pussy.

You came with a scream so loud it would have left you mortified had you been focused on anything other than your release. Shigure's eyes rested on your face the whole time, cock aching badly as he watched your eyes roll back. You panted heavily, body loose as Shigure shifted you to sit above him. "That was good, right? So now you're gonna make me feel good, right baby?" He mused, and you nodded dumbly, mind sluggish in your post-orgasm haze. "Yeah?" he breathed our, "Good girl". He reached down, letting his cock free and guiding it to your slit. He didn't hesitate, pulling you down immediately, and you moaned out again.

"Good girl, just a little more", you whined uncomfortably as he lowered you down on his cock, muscles clenching at the unfamiliar feeling of being full, eliciting a deep groan from the man behind you. His teeth gritted as you took him to the base, tears welling up in your eyes. His hands tightened around your waist, holding you in place.

You felt Shigure slow down, his rhythm faltering as you regained your attention a little bit, hearing the front door open. Panic set in as you turned round to face the man holding you, desperately mouthing at him to get off of you. You watched in fear as a sly look appeared on his face, hips once again lifting you up and down on his cock, albeit much more gently, as you heard Kyo and Yuki making their way into the house. You clasped your hands over your mouth at a particularly deep thrust, pussy clenching down tightly. You almost screamed as you heard footsteps approaching the door, hands gripping tightly to the table once again as the door opened.Shigure stilled completely.

"I'm feeling nice today, baby, so I'm gonna give you a minute to get used to it, yeah?", he held you there for a moment, your fingers gradually unclenching from the table in front of you as you got used to the feeling. He bucked his hips up slightly, and you let out a breathy gasp. And then he lifted you up, the drag of his cock against your walls agonizing. Before dropping you back down again forcefully.

"FUCK!", you shouted, eyes clenching as he created a rhythm, lifting you up and down with no hesitation. You cried out, voice loud and desperate in the otherwise empty house. You could feel his cock reaching deep into you, and he sped up into an almost brutal pace, hands reaching out to grab your breasts, kneading the flesh roughly before his fingers delved underneath; rough, calloused fingers giving you goosebumps as they played with your nipples. " 's too much, Shigure, please, please Shigure, too fast", you cried out, hands reaching to grab his arms as you shook. You whined as you heard him laugh, a condescending tone as he spoke to you.

"It's too much? But I thought you said you could take it? Thought you said I could be rough? Like a little slut." He emphasised the word with a sharp thrust that had your whole body clenching, eyes shut closed and jaw braced as pleasure took over your whole body.He turned you around, grabbing your hair as he pushed you against the desk, papers flying off the side from the force.

"T-too much", you cried, tears trailing down your cheeks at the sensitivity. You felt heavy and your body was tired, but Shigure didn't let up, instead drilling his cock into you harder at the sound of your cries.

“That was close”, Shigure spoke softly into your ear, fingers never giving up. You didn’t respond, earning a sharp slap across your clit that had you gasping in his arms.

"Shigure, do you know- oh, Y/N? I was looking for you", Yuki's voice rang out in the room, your heart pounding at every word. You watched as Yuki's eyebrows furrowed, eyes scanning yours as he took in the scene in front of him, evidently confused.

"Oh, Yuki, Y/N just wanted some help with some work, didn't you?", he looked down at you, eyes calm as you shakily nodded your head. You were about to speak when you felt two fingers pressing on your clit, a sharp intake of breath, stopping the words completely. You felt Shigure's gaze as he looked down at you, a faux confused look on his face.

"Hmm? Y/N? What's wrong?", his fingers drew circles lightly again as the two men stared at you in confusion. "I- I...nothing. Yeah, I jus-just wanted help with some writing. And I've um...I've got a bit of a stomach ache", you forced a small smile, fingers desperately clenching on the wood of the table as Shigure’s pressed harder, motions speeding up. Shigure cooed condescendingly, giving you a pout that had you clenching around his digits. Yuki nodded awkwardly, eyes slowly trailing down your body before he stepped out the door, leaving the two of you alone once again.

You felt him let go with you, a deep, guttural groan sounding out loudly in the room. Your second orgasm was just as good as the first, if not better. But as you lay, panting on his chest, a wave of realisation hit you. There was no way that was quiet. There was no way they didn’t hear you. What the fuck had you done? You could feel the tears welling up again, the shame was too much. Your breathing got quicker, full-on sobs racking your body. “Aww, baby, don’t cry,” Shigure cooed, hands enveloping your head to rest it on his chest in a firm hold. Your body shook under his, stifling your sobs.

“You want to come?” He asked, voice stern. You nodded desperately.

“Yes, I want it, want it”, you panted, his hips beginning to slap against yours. You knew he was close too, his hips faltering every now and then in his brutal rhythm.

“Fuck. Beg for it then, fucking slut”, he spat, his pace growing faster and faster. You whined out.

“Please, Shigure, please, I need it, please, oh my god” he thrusted faster, clearly taking your words as an incentive. You felt his hips stutter as he breathed out a final phrase.

“Come for me then, baby”

Shigure felt his cock harden.

Maybe he could convince you to go again.

#tw: age gap #tw: age difference #tw: dubcon #shigure x reader #fruits basket x reader #fruits basket #shigure sohma #tw: manipulation #tw: coercion #tw: corruption #tw; exhibitionism #smut #fruits basket smut

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draguta · 11 months

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.a court of fate and fortune | nine.

pairing: lucien vanserra x fem!reader

summary: | book two | lovers separated, powers that won't be controlled, a doomed wedding. with the threat of war looming over prythian, lucien, Y/N, tamlin, and rhysand's inner circle must scramble to find allies and prepare themselves for what is to come. but Y/N only has one aim; to find her way back to lucien, and protect him at all costs.

chapter warnings: n/a

chapter word count: 2571

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Meetings

“So, the girl knows now?” Amren asked, those silver eyes narrowing as she looked you up and down, taking in my form as you entered the room and perched in one of the chairs opposite Rhysand’s desk. You bristled under her intense stare; she had always intimidated you, and without anyone having to tell you, you knew that she was something far more from fae, something far more dangerous.

“She knows,” was all you said, leaning back in the chair as all eyes seemed to turn to you. But you didn’t falter - you were in control. “And it would seem I have abilities that will be helpful in the upcoming war.”

“More like vital,” Rhys murmured under his breath. You glanced over at him; you could see the tension in his shoulders as he leant against the edge of his desk, glancing over the various papers strewn out before him. He finally looked up, looking at each of you once: Mor, Amren, Azriel, Cassian, and you. The small group of mix-matched people that would apparently be plotting and planning an entire war. “Hybern is amassing armies. Most of Amarantha’s creatures have crawled out of that damned mountain and sulked back to Hybern already.”

“Not all of them,” Azriel commented quietly. “There have been reports of creatures on the borders of Autumn, Summer, and Spring.”

You swallowed down your dry throat at the thought of those monsters being anywhere near Lucien, but shook the idea away. You have to focus. It was Rhys that spoke next. “This route seems the most plausible for his armies to take, straight through the Summer Court,” he said slowly, trailing a finger along the thick red line on one of the maps that you had found yourself studying days earlier. “And then he’ll no doubt make his way through Spring to get to the Wall. If he wants to shatter it, that’s his best route.”

“When do we think he will strike?” Cassian asked, raising an eyebrow as he crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back against the bookcase. “Do we have time to muster allies?”

“We can only hope,” Rhys sighed. He pushed himself from the desk, looking over at Cassian. “What of the Illyrians? Is there a chance that they might fight alongside us?”

“Certain camps might,” Cassian shrugged. “Windhaven most likely, and if one comes then the others will follow, if it really comes down to it.”

“Let us hope that it won’t,” Rhysand said with a small nod. “If only we could find a way to stop Hybern getting to the Wall at all - maybe then we’d stand a chance of stopping this bloody war before it even begins.”

There was a tense silence that fell across the room. You all knew what it meant, what Rhysand was suggesting, but no one seemed willing to say it. You knew that their silence was because of your presence, you could feel their concern as their eyes flicked from you, to Rhys, and back again.

“We need to ally with Spring,” you said quietly. ‘We need to ally with Tamlin’.

Rhysand’s jaw clenched, and you were sure you caught the way he bit the inside of his cheek before he spoke. “That’s one option,” he said slowly.

“It’s the only option,” Mor finally spoke up from the chair beside me, brushing down the silky material of her dress as she spoke matter-of-factly. “Spring is the only court that borders the Wall and the human lands. If Hybern wants to get to that Wall - wants to get to the Mortal Lands - he has no choice but to go through Spring Court lands.”

“Tamlin wouldn’t let them do that,” you countered. “You should know by now, he doesn’t like trespassers, and I would assume that definitely extends to someone bringing an army.”

Rhys cocked his head to the side in thought. “That may be true,” he said pensively. “But we cannot be sure that he would be willing to bring war to his own lands to stop them, and even if he did, there is no way his sentinels would be able to keep Hybern at bay alone. He would still need allies, he would still need us.”

“Tamlin had strong ties with Hybern,” Azriel pointed out. “It was his father who fought with Hybern and Amarantha in the last war. Spring is notoriously indecisive, we can’t be sure where their allegiance will lie.” His eyes flicked to you again, fast enough that it was barely noticeable. But you did notice it, and you had an idea of what that look had meant.

“I think our move is quite obvious,” Amren stated assertedly. “We need someone in the Spring Court. Someone that they trust.”

Your stomach sank. Because there it was; you knew that they weren’t talking about Feyre, who was too frail and broken right now to make a good spy, and who didn’t trust the members of the Night Court that sat around you in that moment enough to betray Tamlin in such a way. Azriel was court Spymaster, of course, but Tamlin would no doubt sense his presence through the wards the second he entered the court, and there was only so much one could learn from the shadows.

That left you.

You knew it, and they all knew it, judging by the way everyone pointedly stared at you then.

“I-I can go back,” you said quietly. In truth, you weren’t sure you could, not if it meant facing Tamlin. Not if it meant pretending to be his friend again - his sister - to garner the information you would need to send back to Rhys. The very thought made you nauseous, made you hands tremble in your lap as flashes of emerald encased faebane attached to a golden collar coursed through your mind.

“No.” Rhysand was firm in his decision, and when you looked up you noticed that his violet stare was trained on your face, likely drained from all colour. He leaned over his desk, his eyes snapping to meet yours, face soft and calming. “I won’t force you to go back there.”

“You’re not forcing me,” you said quietly. “I’m choosing. If we need information from Tamin, who better to get it than me? It won’t be…pleasant, but-”

“And what if he hurt you again?” To your surprise it was Ariel that cut in this time, his lips a thin white line, wing rustling slightly over his shoulders. You watched the way his shadows danced around him. “What if he locked you away again? I wouldn’t put it past him to do it again, and the last time I went to collect you from there, you were so…”

Broken. You had been so broken. You tried not to think about those moments, when Azriel had found you curled up on the floor, feeling so alone. You tried to wipe those memories from your mind, because they did little but resonate your anger at Tamlin. And it had been weeks - you had moved past that anger, learnt to control that anger. You never wanted to be that broken again.

“Lucien will be there-” You began.

“Because Lucien was able to help so much last time,” Azriel muttered under his breath. You frowned, but before you were able to retort, Rhys spoke up again, the command in his voice bringing the room to silence.

“Enough. I wouldn’t expect that of you, it’s too risky,” he stated, placing his palms flat against the table as he glanced around the room. “There is always something else that we could use to our advantage.”

Another silence, everyone waiting bated breath.

“Amarantha’s spell book,” he finally said, and you winched, an action that he seemed to notice. “I told you to keep it.”

“I did,” you countered. “I left it at the Spring Court, hidden away somewhere safe.”

“You didn’t think to bring something that important with you when you left?”Mor asked, raising an eyebrow. You simply shrugged.

“In my defence, I didn’t exactly know what I was walking into when I came here,” you pointed out. Amren tutted her tongue, and you shot her a glare. “It’s safe in the Spring Court. I couldn’t be sure that it would be as safe here.”

Rhysand sighed. “Well, that’s a problem we’ll figure out later,” he said, pushing himself up and beginning to pace on the opposite side of the desk, the length of the room, hands clasped behind his back. You could practically see the scheming and plotting taking place in his head. “For now, we’ll focus on the Illyrians, on getting them on our side. Other allies can come later.”

“Step-by-step,” you said quietly, and Rhysand turned to you, shooting you a charming smile.

“Exactly,” he agreed. “Step-by-step.”

“Do we know what this meeting is about?”

Silas glanced at Lucien from the corner of his eye, and Lucien didn’t miss the concerned frown that he was throwing him. Tamlin had sent Lucien to collect specific sentinels in Silas’ command and escort them to his study. Silas led them, with Wren, Bron, and Hart following just behind them, each of them as confused as the next.

“I honestly don’t know,” Lucien admitted. “But I have no doubt it's got something to do with Feyre.”

Silas nodded; Lucien assumed that Silas had already worked that much out. But there was more to this meeting, Lucien was sure of it. Tamlin’s words from the night that Feyre had been taken echoed through his mind. ‘I need to destroy him. I need to destroy the Night Court.’

Days had passed since then. When Lucien had woken the next morning, neck stiff from accidentally drifting off in the armchair by the fire in Tamlin’s room, the High Lord of Spring was already gone. Lucien had found him later that day, after a much-needed nap and hefty breakfast, in his study, the door locked. He had barely seen or heard from his High Lord since, until that is, that very morning when Tamlin had woken him before the sun had even risen and ordered him to find the sentinels on a list written on a piece of parchment thrust into Lucien’s hand - the sentinels that Tamlin trusted. Lucien had noticed his wide eyes and the low-hanging circles under his eyes, and had agreed without hesitation or argument.

Tamlin was lingering by the window, looking out across the gardens, when the five other males finally entered the study. There was an almost faraway look on his roguish features, and he wondered for a moment if Tamlin’s mind was somewhere else, perhaps in the Night Court with his betrothed and his sister. After so man days locked away in this very study, it wouldn’t surprise him if that Northern court had infiltrated his brian; Lucien couldn’t be sure what, exactly, Tamlin had been doing during those days, but he had known it was something to do with them; with Feyre, and Y/N, and Rhysand. The various plates of half-eaten food and glasses of light sipped wine across almost every surface of the room suggested as much.

He had become obsessed.

Tamlin turned before Lucien had a chance to clear his throat, and almost startled at their presence as if he had completely forgotten that he had requested their attendance at all. A broad smile then spread across his face, and as if someone had wound him up like a children’s mechanical toy, he sprung into action, striding across the room and smacking Lucien on the shoulder.

“Lucien, my friend,” he said. “I believe our worries have come to an end.”

“What do you mean?” Lucien asked, narrowing his golden eye as he glanced over the various maps and papers that were carelessly blanketing the desk, and the top of the chest of drawers that held his papers and parchment, and even some on the rug on the floor on the far side of the desk. This was what he had been doing; he had been trying to find a way into the Night Court. Lucien couldn’t let him - he had promised Y/N, and for Tamlin to infiltrate the Night Court would be a call to war between courts.

“I have a plan, you see,” Tamlin said, those emerald eyes catching his. Lucien couldn’t help but notice that where they had once been the same gleaming colour as the rolling hills of fresh Spring grass that made up his court, the colour now seemed dull, desolate almost. Tamlin hurried around the desk toward the maps that he had laid out across the floor, and Lucien hesitantly followed, lingering by the edge of the desk. “We go to the Day Court, maybe under the ruse of wishing to speak to Helion about finding a way to break Feyre’s bargain. But instead, we use their border to cross through to Night Court lands-”

“Tam,” Lucien interrupted softly. Silas and the other sentinels shot each other small glances of unease from their position by the door, shuffling awkwardly on their feet. Tamlin waved a hand, dismissing the interruption.

“It’ll work, Lucien,” he said, gritting his teeth slightly. “We just won’t tell anyone else, besides Helion. The Day Court has been an ally of ours for decades now, thanks to you. He will help us, I’m sure of it-”

“Tam,” Lucien said, more sternly this time. “Helion won’t help us, you know that. He will know what I have already told you: to openly invade Night Court lands in search of Feyre will be seen as an act of war.”

Tamlin growled lowly, and Lucien’s hand automatically fell to the hilt of his sword. “Do you not wish for Feyre to return home safely?” He snarled, rising to his feet, a hint of his claws poking from the skin between his knuckles. “And what about Y/N? Surely you want her back here again.”

Lucien sighed. “There’s nothing I want more,” he admitted - the truth, even if he omitted that he’d rather take her somewhere, anywhere else.

“Yes, I’m sure your bed is feeling rather empty now, is it now?” Tamlin pushed - a jibe formed from an opinion made by the High Lord Under the Mountain, when he had thought that Lucien was taking advantage of her. No word had been spoken of the night that Lucien and Y/N had actually spent together; Tamlin didn’t need to know about that, especially not right now. Lucien bared his teeth.

“You may be my High Lord, Tamlin, but I’ll have you watch how you speak of me,” he snapped back as Tamlin took another fierce step toward him. “And how you speak of her.”

“Because you really care so much for her reputation,” Tamlin muttered, taking yet another step closer, but then he paused, drawing in heavy breaths - one, two, three inhales - and then turned away, waving a hand. “You’re all dismissed.”

The sentinels bowed low and retreated from the study, but Lucien paused, hovering to watch as Tamlin returned to his maps, flopping himself onto the rug and lifting a particular map of the Day Court, comparing it to another map that still rested on the rug. He glanced up at Lucien, and flashed his teeth. “I told you, you’re dismissed.”

Lucien blinked slowly, his brows pinching, but eventually bowed just as the sentinels did, and disappeared from the room, leaving Tamlin to his maps.

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zanerak · 4 months

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Was Tagged in this post by @azonine and my edible hit a while ago. let's go for it everybody thank you beloved

Last Song: my sister and i were listening to our spotify blend earlier and i think it's updating itself bc i could've sworn the last thing i remember was something like passion by nicki minaj with a pink album cover but i can't find this song so i think i made it up. likely what i actually hear was Bomb Intro / Pass That Dutch by Missy Elliot. it's my sister's contribution but i vibe with it. apparently we're an 83% match which is interesting. she also keeps making fun of me for saying ethoslab is attractive but i'm literally right. sorry you wouldn't understand

Favorite Color: BRIGHT red slightly pink. i never used to say i have a favorite color and i lost my shoe. i've found it. anyway i gravitate towards red, especially that shade. i also love just black of course but that is a safe color that goes with anything. but red. that's bold. also many flowers are red. flowers are gorgeous. every single one. godbless they make the world cooler

Last Movie/TV: The Wilds. one of those cancelled lesbian shows. unfortunate. it's not as good as Yellowjackets though. i think they spend too much time on everyone's backstories but they're honestly not that complex like half of season 1 is leah having a breakdown over that guy and they want to be like leah is an obsessive person but they only show the one thing like. her other obsessions are so much more interesting i don't care about mr pedophile writer guy i literally do not care. let her go insane she deserves it for being bisexual. the last movie is possibly blue beetle which was alright for an airplane movie, wish i could pause it though. why tf is it a channel? who put live channels on planes? who did that? you deserve SUFFERING. also, while i was writing this i realized i actually later watched the new percy jackson episode with my sister so that actually but i don't remember anything from the books and unfortunately the show is clearly directed towards the same age range as the original series and it's like. good for what it is but selfishly i wish it was cooler for me specifically. rick riordan is cool though

Sweet/Spicy/Savory?: sweet or savory depends on my mood really. but savory maybe? although i am searching it up and now i am confused about the definition. i love the savory crepes (the philly) from crepevine it's possibly my favorite meal ever. would love to eat crepevine every day all day ever

Relationship Status: newly single. please hmu if you like taking care of pathetic people or alternatively have a lot of money

Last Thing I Googled: "vegetable list" to answer the llff qotd which i keep saying in my head as "quote of the day". before that. soojin g-idle. queen. you would've killed it in queencard i know it. also as you can see above i am in fact single

Current Obsession: i think my depression is currently bad enough to prevent me from a single obsession currently. i searched the wilds on tumblr a couple times but it's like 90% people complaining about canceled wlw shows bc tumblr search is unusable. i wouldn't call it anything close to an obsession though, it just happens to be what i'm currently binging. most recently though - poppy seed pets. also rewatched a couple community episodes. such a good show my god. wish alison brie was asian. also i have been thinking about tattoos a lot. specifically my new one which was my first. got with friends. very cute (: further i am going to be so abnormal about the boys s4. i don't have a kin list but i'm starting one rn putting jordan li at the top. minecraft character bdoubleo100 second. king from the owl house third. not for size reason we just both get disrespected. taking recommendations for additions that aren't a random small animal you saw on instagram - please keep in mind that i am 7'4" in real life and extremely intimidating. i am also considering adding nora from the wilds (autistic) and abed community (autistic) and todd sanchez bojack horseman (aspec but actually we're not that similar. i think i am just thinking about him. what a lad.) and perhaps. asian lesbian from scream queens because i too think chanel no. 3 is hot. actually every character from community except pierce is relateable. also generally any character that is "bad" representation of a minority group and knows it but i haven't seen much of that kind of character. they should make more of them for the bitches like me who are simultaneously whitewashed and a stereotype

#trash dump #mine

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messenger-of-stupidity · 2 years

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Black Flies

I finally finished it!! Shaw Pack Teenager things. Except I’m going to make it a series that I slowly update whenever I have time and no writers block. It’s on Ao3 and I’m going to post it here as well. :) I might edit the first chapter later if I need to change some details to match how I want the story to go.

Ao3 Link ---------- Next -->

Redacted Masterlist

Story below the cut. 3.8K words

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The Shaw pack was well known by everyone within Dahlia even before David made a name for himself. Gabriel Shaw was not a wolf anyone wanted to mess with. He was big and intimidating to anyone outside of his pack, and even to some within it. His aura practically screamed “mess around and find out”. And no one wanted to find out, so no one messed around. Not in any way that genuinely mattered. But a pack was family, and within family there were always mini schemes people got up to. While some of the older members had lost that spark to be chaotic and explain why supervision was necessary, the same couldn’t be said for the younger members. Of course there were exceptions to the rules, depending on the surroundings Gabe was one of those exceptions. But mostly that chaos was passed on like a torch to the younger members. Let them learn from the mistakes everyone knew they were going to make.

The younger wolves were part of one big group for the most part. David, Asher, Milo, and Amanda. They were all steadfast friends and had been since they were little. They were all fairly close in age, so they didn’t remember what life was like without each other. David and Asher were the closest, and of course a small rift was created between the three boys and Amanda as was bound to happen. They were still friends but different interests pulled them in different directions. Amanda would of course still play with them and wouldn’t hesitate to put them into what she saw as their place. Granted it wouldn’t always work as they hit their growth spurts. David grew the tallest, and looking at his dad it was no surprise.

What was a surprise was when a new family joined the pack. It was a small family, only two shifters. Kind of like Gabe and David after the pack’s matriarch had passed on. No one knew where the mother was and no one asked. The father was quiet, more introverted. It wasn’t wholly unusual to see in humans, but in wolves it was odd. Shifters were pack animals, liked being around their pack. They could complain about it all they wanted, but that instinct was buried deep within their core. The child was as introverted as their father. But they weren’t as quiet. When they were in a big group, they were a wallflower with their guardian. But the moment they got angry, they practically exploded. They steamrolled and alpha help anyone who was on the warpath. It earned them the nickname Tank. It had been Asher’s idea of course. He claimed to be the best at making nicknames. And since Tank refused to talk to the other younger members of the pack, they never protested against it. So Tank stuck.

David didn’t know what to think of Tank. he had grown up surrounded by other wolves, being a center of attention. Everyone knew he was going to be alpha after his father retired. He didn’t want to think about the other option that would lead to him taking up the mantle. But while he sat in the sun, friends around him laughing, Tank sat in the shade. He could see their eyes constantly scanning around them. Even when their father moved to interact with the other wolves, they stayed put. At first he didn't know why they were always watching. Always evaluating. But when someone had started towards them with the clear intent for conversation, Tank had moved away. They were checking for any signs of being with the pack they were a part of. They wanted nothing to do with anyone. At first, David had taken offense. What was so wrong with their pack that Tank hated them? He had brought it up with his father one night. Asher had been at the table too, shoveling food into his mouth like a heathen. David had given up on trying to teach the other some table manners.

“Hey dad? Can I ask you something?” He started, stabbing his salad greens with his fork. Gabe paused his own eating to regard his son. He had given up on teaching Asher too, albeit sooner than David. Asher paused for a second before shrugging and continuing his assault.

“Sure. What’s it about, kiddo?” He asked. David could hear the calm in his father's deep voice, as well as curiosity. David didn’t often ask a question about being allowed to ask something. It was unnecessary. So the younger shifter breaking that habit for this was enough to garner curiosity from anyone who knew that.

“It’s about Tank.” Gabe knew who Tank was. One time he had made the mistake of asking after overhearing Asher recount a dream he had where Tank had beat a squirrel to a bleeding pulp. It lead Asher and Milo jumping into a lengthy explanation about who Tank was, why they had that nickname, and how they didn’t seem to mind or know about it. David had watched, amused, when he could see regret blooming in his father’s eyes. The explanation had been a mess, cut up and timeline making no sense. Gabe hadn’t asked them again and instead asked David after the two had left. The alpha nodded and David continued. “I know they joined the pack with their dad, but it’s like they didn’t actually join the pack. I’ve seen them. They stay away from everyone on purpose. So why bother joining a pack if you don’t like it and want to be a part of it?” He asked, trying to keep his voice calm. Unfortunately he had a case of RBF and it bled into his voice too. Luckily Gabe already knew that.

The alpha sighed as he contemplated his answer, making enough of a pause to get Asher to focus on something other than seeing how much food he could fit into his mouth before his jaw locked or he choked. David paused his fidgeting with his fork, his eyes staring at his father. It took a few more agonizing seconds before Gabe wiped his mouth with his napkin and folded his hands together in front of him, elbows resting on the table.

“You aren’t the only one who noticed something like that. They-” Ash interrupted.

“Tank.” He supplied.

“Yes, Tank. Thank you. Tank got here as a teenager. Everyone in the pack has already known each other for years. So it’s not very easy to integrate when everyone already has a bond with each other that you have yet to develop. It’s just going to take some time.” David sighed and settled his hands in his lap.

“They aren’t putting in the effort though. Milo tried to go up to them a couple weeks ago and Tank made eye contact with him before turning around and walking away. They don’t want to try, so at this rate they’ll never make friends with anyone. Nevermind the fact that they get angry over the littlest things. It’s ridiculous.” He argued. Gabe nodded, understandingly. That was one of the things that made him such a great alpha. He wasn’t dismissive of anyone and he listened to their side of things. David tried to be like that, but his tolerance for idiocy was low and he had strong opinions on what made someone an idiot.

“Tank’s dad said they have some things they need to work through. It’s not my place to spill this information to others, so please don’t repeat what you hear right now.” He started, waiting until both David and Asher verbally expressed their promise to keep this close to the vest before continuing. “They blame themselves for what happened to their mother. What happened to her is up to Tank or their dad to tell you on their own time. It’s hard to be around people when you’re carrying that level of guilt. The best we can do is just give them time to work through it and be here for them if they ever need anything. I’m not saying you kids should stop trying to reach out, but don’t write them off so quickly, okay David?” His father explained. His voice was gentle but David could hear the strict order in there. It wasn’t a question, it was a command. David nodded and went back to eating.

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“So yer tellin me that they feelin guilty so they don’t wanna be around us?” Milo said as he sat on the grass, slurpee in hand. Asher nodded while he fiddled with the straw of his own sugary drink to try to get the remaining red remnants. David sighed from where he sat on the park bench. His father should have expected the fact that Asher couldn’t keep a secret from Milo and David to save his life. Luckily Milo was better at that. Did it come from his father being so secretive due to the nature of his job?

“Don’t tell anyone though.” David said sternly. Milo nodded and sipped from his drink. Asher gave up on the straw and just pulled the plastic lid off to try to shake the rest out onto his waiting red tongue. David wrinkled his nose. Slurpees were like cotton candy. Pure sugar with coloring. He didn’t understand how his friends could consume something so unbalanced. But his father also taught him the importance of health. Marie certainly tried with Milo but Asher had corrupted the other. He felt bad for her. Asher wasn’t a bad influence per se, but he wasn’t exactly a role model all the time. Not when it came to things that didn’t really matter. David pulled his phone from his pocket. They were waiting for Gabe to come pick them up. The three had walked here once school let out since Asher wanted to get the aforementioned drinks. His parents didn’t want him hyped up on sugar, hence the delay in returning so he could finish the drink. Why he didn’t think his parents would notice the energy spike or the overly red coloring on his tongue, David didn’t know. Milo set down his drink, half finished, on the bench next to where David sat. The latter picked it up and placed it on the table and looked down at Milo with a raised eyebrow.

“So basically we just gotta be nice. All the time. But do we gotta just take it if Tank acts like a jerk to us too?” Milo asked. His own tongue was colored a subtle green. But Marie probably wouldn’t mind and David doubted that his father was going to be home when Milo returned with his sugar rush. David shook his head.

“I think we just have to keep treating them like we would anyone else. Invite them to stuff, and be patient with them. If they act like a snot, I’m not just going to take it lying down.” David answered. Asher succeeded in his goal and replaced the lid onto the cup before standing up and stretching. David watched him jog off towards a garbage can to throw it out before jogging back. David continued once his friend returned. “I don’t know how Tank is going to react to us not just leaving them be all the time now though. We have to invite them to everything now. I think they’re going to notice a change. They might be more of a loner but they aren’t stupid.” David said. Milo nodded in agreement as Asher’s face scrunched up in thought.

“Well… there’s not much we can do about that. I’d rather follow Gabe’s orders than not listen to stop Tank from being upset with me. Tank’s scary, but not as scary as your dad, David.” Asher said. He was right. They would just need to deal with whatever consequence came up. “What’s the next pack activity anyways?” Asher asked. Milo interrupted before David could answer.

“We should start smaller. Invitin them to a pack thing might be too overwhelmin. Maybe we should just get us and Amanda together for somethin and invite them.” He offered. That wasn’t a horrible idea. Start small and work the way up. And if Tank became friends with them they might feel more inclined to come to the pack activities.

“You’re right. I’m sure my dad won’t mind if we have a movie night or something. It’s minimal interaction so it seems like a good way to start.” David agreed. He could see Milo puff up a bit with pride that David agreed. He already had his friends' respect so praise or agreement from him meant a lot to them. “Someone text Amanda. I’ll ask Tank.” David said just as his dad’s truck pulled up. He grabbed his backpack as Milo stood up and grabbed his own bag and drink. Asher had left his backpack in school and David decided to let his friend find out for himself that he left his homework that's due tomorrow in his bag as well. He would probably just end up begging David or Milo if he could copy off their homework before it was collected.

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David’s father had agreed with the idea. He had been proud of the group for taking initiative in welcoming Tank, although Asher got a small lecture in keeping secrets better. David was pretty sure it just went in one ear and out the other. The lecture wasn’t as bad as it could be since Milo understood how to keep a secret. The next day at school, David searched through the lunch room for Tank. He didn’t find them. A small frown crested his face and he left the lunch room. Did they ditch the rest of the day? He had seen them stalking through the hall along the wall. Forever the wallflower. It took searching the library, common area, and a couple classrooms before he found them sitting outside with their lunch. If it could be called that. They held an apple in one hand and a finished container of french fries sat in their lap. They turned their face towards him as his footsteps approached them. He could see the line in their shoulders tense as they started to try to gather up their stuff to leave.

“Wait.” He said. He saw a muscle in their face twitch and they slowed the gathering to a stop and put their apple in their lap as well.

“What?” They asked. David wasn’t used to hearing their voice. It matched the sour expression placed on their face. At least they had that going for them. Asher’s voice had yet to catch up to his appearance. He sat down next to them and didn’t miss the way they just barely stopped from flinching away. Were they scared of him or disgusted by him? It was hard to tell.

“How are you?” He started. He didn’t like small talk, but he wanted them to calm down so maybe this would help. It had the opposite of the intended effect. He could feel them tense up further as their aura flashed for a moment. They wanted to shift. Why?

“What do you want, David?” They asked, not answering his question. Straight to the point. He could appreciate that. But the way things were going, they were going to turn down the offer. He sighed and looked at them. They met his eyes for a few moments before dropping their gaze to the grass.

“I just wanna talk to you and invite you to something, Tank.” He said, slipping up and saying the nickname assigned to them.

“No, I don’t wanna… what did you just call me?” They started to refuse before it clicked what David had called them. David refused to blush from embarrassment. It was tempting, but he refused. So he coughed uncomfortably instead and looked at the road in front of them.

“Sorry. It’s just what everyone’s started calling you since you haven’t actually bothered to introduce yourself to us. I mean, we know your name obviously… I don’t know.” He glanced at them from his peripheral vision. He saw their jaw move back and forth subtly as they thought before nodding slowly.

“I like it.” They said before grabbing the items from their lap and standing up. They grabbed their bag and took a few steps before David’s voice called out to them again.

“Asher, Milo, Amanda, and I are going to have a movie night at my house tonight. We wanted to invite you to come along.” He said quickly. Tank paused and turned around to look at David. He stood up, his height putting him above them. They looked like they considered it for a moment before shaking their head and walking away. David huffed and pushed his hands through his hair. This was going to be harder than he thought, which was saying something.

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“I don’t know what to do anymore! They only ever show up to things when their dad is there. I assume because he forces them. But if they can say no, they always do. I don’t think they actually want to be part of a pack. It seems like more than just the guilt and coming in later.” David groaned as he lay across Milo’s couch. Asher was perched on the arm of the couch, his fingers quickly mashing the buttons on the controller. Milo came in with three glasses of water. He set them down on the coffee table and David got up. Milo sighed as David reached towards the cabinet drawer under the table to pull out the coasters.

“I mean, we have tried. That’s all your dad asked of us.” Asher said with a shrug, his eyes still glued to the screen. Milo picked up his glass and took a sip.

“Ash isn’t wrong.” He added on. David shook his head. They didn’t understand why he wanted to go further than just what his father asked of them. He wanted Tank to join in with the pack too. They were just so unapproachable. It was awkward to invite them to things and someone could only take so much rejection. Soon enough the rejection just got to be too much.

“I don’t know what to do anymore. I don’t want to try to order them to come to something since that’s just going to make them dislike me more, but that’s the only way you can get them to come to anything.” David said. Milo paused before softly speaking up.

“Have you tried asking their dad? They already have a relationship with him, so they’ll probably take an order to come better than if it came from someone else. And I’m sure their dad wants them to join the pack activities too.” Milo suggested. David lay an arm over his face.

“I don’t want to force them though. I want them to want to come to these things.” He said. Milo shook his head. David could hear the soft ping that came from the game being paused. He had all of their attention. That was appreciated.

“There’s no other option. They aren’t going to want to come because they don’t know how fun it is. So maybe it starts with force and can develop into them wanting to be there. It’s a start, not the permanent solution.” Milo explained. Asher piped up to offer his opinion on the issue.

“Milo’s right, David. If we want them to show up, we have to follow the way that they’ve been showing up to things so far. Plus I think force is the only way Tank knows how to operate. They’re forceful with others and others are forceful with them. Besides, when you’re alpha you’re going to need to get used to ordering people around to do stuff. That’s like part of the job description or something.” David groaned again but nodded. Force would just have to do for now. Temporary, not permanent.

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David could see the anger burning in Tank’s gaze as they dragged themselves up to Asher’s door from where he sat in the bay window. Their knuckles were white from how hard they were clutching the strap of their backpack. Their father yelled out something to them, to which they seemed to ignore and then the car they arrived in left. David could see them pause and look over their shoulder to watch the car turn the corner of the street and disappear from view. Then Tank turned around and started the other way. Oh no they didn’t. David got up and walked over to the door, opening it quickly. Tank paused and turned around, their jaw clenched and shoulders squared. It was as if they were preparing for a fight.

“Come on in, Tank.” David said. He watched them drop their bag onto the ground and stomp up to him. David was taller than them, but Tank wasn’t quite unintimidating. If David were anyone else, he would have taken a small step back from the fury radiating off of the other.

“I didn’t want to come to your stupid parties or whatever, so you asked my dad? Are you serious?” They said, jabbing a forefinger into David’s chest. They were too angry with him to be scared. Were those the only two emotions they would express around him? “Did you ever consider that I might have something else to do and that’s why I didn’t want to be here?” They continued. David stood there, glaring down at them. Fine. If they wanted to be angry at him, he could be angry too. He was sick of them constantly rejecting this when the group was only trying to help them. He knew his dad said to be patient, but David only had so much patience.

“Yeah. I did ask your dad. Tank, like it or not, but you’re part of a pack. And that means being part of a pack. You have to participate. You might think it sucks right now, but if you actually try to make friends, you’ll realize it’s not as much of a hell as you think it is.” David argued. Tank huffed and turned around. David could feel the primal part of his magic grow angry that they were putting their back to him. But he held back the shift from his high emotions.

“Don’t act like you care. You’re just doing this because your dad asked you to.” They mumbled as they collected their bag again. David stared at their back. They weren’t wrong in thinking that Gabe asked them to do this, but David had wanted them to be part of the pack. That was what had originally led to the request. They continued down the driveway, away from the house.

“Tank!” He called out. They didn’t turn around as they responded.

“I’m going home, David. Just… leave me alone already. I’m not interested and I don’t want to be friends.”

#redacted asmr #redacted audio #redactedverse #redacted fanfiction #Black Flies #because I want it to have its specie tag #redacted david #redacted darlin #redacted milo #redacted asher #redacted gabe #redacted shaw pack #redacted shaw pack teens #fanfiction #chapter one

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molscol · 10 months

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Hey guys! So the first chapter is finally here!

I haven't wrote things like this in years- the last time being when I was in the BNHA fandom, and trust me, it was truly a nightmare.

Now remember this is all just for fun! I'm not an expert writer by any means so if you have any tips that would be greatly appreciated!!

Also I inspired the Mechanic guy off of the Mechanic from the Lego Ninjago Series! I found the Mechanic to be a silly character but he definitely contributed to many bigger villains.. wonder what this Mechanic will do..

Chapter One: The Mechanic

The rise universe as we know is much more vibrant and colour than their previous counterparts worlds. The Nighttime streets are filled with Lights and people.

This is all the brothers had known, they loved their city very much and would do anything they could to protect it.

After the event of the kraang, the brothers were clearly affected, Donnie often suffered pains in his back, but as usual he stubbornly kept to himself in his lair. The only one he'd allow to come in was his Younger brother, the sunshine of the Family, mikey

This led to the leaderous Duo, Raph and Leo, to often help eachother with problems, Lwo clearly suffered with self doubt when it came to his leading skills, but Raph, the previous leader in red became the backbone to helping Leo gain confidence in his journey to being the leader his team needed.

And as much as the brothers split into their secluded duos, they all loved eachother dearly, no matter how much they fought or argued, they'd have eachothers back...

~The present Day~

The turtle brothers were out on another stealth mission, it wasn't a footclan situation though, they had been disbanded after the events of the kraang invasion.

"Hey Donnie! You got eyes on this new guy? Raph doesn't think recognise him.."

Raph had questioned his genius brother as he was flying through the air with his Tech.

"Why thank you raph for questioning my great skills of observation he says sarcastically"

"Well looks like someone is grumpy today ay hermano? Don't worry Raph! Ol' Neon Leon's got it!" The leader in blue teased his twin as he hopped from roof to roof, pulling out his twin Katanas to teleport to his desired spot.

A flash of blue light opened up and Leo hopped into his portal, landing right infront of the culprit.

The Mechanic stopped and turned around to escape, however he was stopped by Donnie and Raph.

"Nowhere to go now huh Amigo? This would be a great time to hand in those stolen parts!"

But unfortunately and as usual, the bad guy never give up that easily do they? The Mechanic didn't give up his precious parts.

But after one glance at the turtle brothers, who looks unusually intimidating.. he ran away- leaving all the parts behind.

"Who would want all this junk? It doesn't make sense on why that guy would steal things like this.." Raph picked up one of the stolen parts.

"Hey Donnie could you have a look at this when we get back to the lair? If anything you might know what it is"

The eldest handed over the more undamaged pieces of the metals and parts to his genius brother, hoping that he could have a further look at what the mechanic could possibly find..

Soon the turtle brothers return home pretty much unscathed, Raph and Leo wondered off to get something to eat while they left their brother in purple to hopefully figure out what the parts could be for.

"Tell me again why we let mikey go ALONE with Baron Draxum? I mean he threw me off a building!" Even after all this Time, Baron draxum still made Leo uneasy.. especially the fact that his younger brother was the only one with him..

"We've been over this Leo! Mikey and Draxum are in the hidden city to hopefully help mikey control his Mystic hands better" Raph sighed after he spoke- he also didn't like the idea of mikey being with draxum.. but if his baby brother was happy then he considered it to be alright.

The two brothers continued there small talk before they were interupted by a very dusty looking Donnie-

"Uhm Donnie- why do you look like you've been through the mines?" Leo questioned his twin before he was shushed by Raph, who was hoping to get an answer quicker

"Well my simple minded brother- I have finally done it! Mikey and I had been working on this for a while now.. I've finally made dimension hopping a reality beyond your nimpo!"

**WHAT?!**

Ooooo wonder what that part contributed too... :)

Well there you have it folks, it seems portals are a common thing in this family- but anyways! Hope you enjoyed this! You will be seeing much more of Mikey in the future chapters! But I just wanted to bring the story in without a lot happening!

I also wanted to introduce that this is after the kraang invasion. I didn't do it too much but in later chapters, the brothers trauma will be more looked into later!

#rottmnt #tmnt crossover #tmnt michelangelo #rise of the tmnt #tmnt 2k12 #tmnt leonardo #tmnt donnie #tmnt raph 2012

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meetmeatthecoda · 1 year

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Sorry if this is kind of random, but I've always struggled with finding friends in a fandom because I get too nervous about interacting even in small ways and end up keeping all of my fandom stuff secret, like most of my tumblr reblogs are private and I don't tell anyone about my ao3. But I've recently resolved to work on that, so I'm planning on starting over with a new blog and a new ao3 handle and moving all of my fav old content to it and being more interactive going forward. But...old habits die hard, and since you're so so so kind and friendly, and you're one of those ppl who's known in their (corner of a) fandom, like other writers call you by your name and anons send you prompts/theories/feels and people just!! talk to you about your fics and stuff and!!!, I was wondering if maaaaaaybe you could give some pointers on how to "join"/integrate/idk!!! in a fandom? Sorry if this is a really weird or difficult question aaaa, anything even your own experience would be nice but it's ok if you don't want to answer. Happy early halloween from a debilitatingly anxious anon 💙

Hi there, anon!! ❤️ Omg, firstly let me say that while yes this is an unexpected ask, it is also a very welcome ask!! I can't say I've ever been asked something like this before, but I can also say I've perhaps never related to an ask more before!! I 1000% also... identify as... an anxious person (I'm tip-toeing with my wording here bc - while I have always been an anxious/nervous person, especially socially - I've also not been professionally assessed or diagnosed, which is solely my own doing, but I know that can be a dividing line with this topic sooooo I'll just say that... I believe that I can understand at least a little of how you feel) & fandom can be a very intimidating & nerve-wracking place!! Prior to starting this blog, I was only ever on the outskirts or in the background of the fandoms I was interested in -- The Blacklist was the first fandom I made an effort to actively be a part of, so I know how jumping in with little to no experience can be scary!! Also... ever since I hovered on the edge of fandom - peeking in with envious eyes at active bloggers, shippers, & content-creators - I have always wanted to be someone... well, someone exactly like you so kindly described me: someone who's known in their fandom & has a nickname & is even sent asks & I honestly can't believe it happened to me. And while this is by no means the only or best way to experience fandom, it is so gratifying & heart-warming & fulfilling to be so connected amidst a fandom community, especially a relatively small one like TBL!! BUT enough of my blabbering!! I'm probably the last person qualified to be giving the kind of advice you're asking for, but I'm more than happy to share my experience with you, anon, bc I feel like we're very similar people!! So, I'll list some bullet points below (under a cut bc we all know I never use one word when twenty will do lolz) on my thoughts on how to join/integrate in a fandom... if you'll be so kind as to take it all with a sizable grain of salt LOL 🤗

OKAY SO my first tip - bc this is what I remember doing the most in my baby!blog days - is:

Start by engaging with fandom content in whatever small way you feel comfortable with!! And the best way I found to do this?? Is the tags!! Tags are your friends!! That's literally all I did for the first few seasons of TBL after making this blog!! In my mind, the tags are kind of an optional/extra credit situation; you can leave them if you want to AND people can choose to acknowledge them or not. You can use them as a filing system, a place to leave your own thoughts or feelings (me AF lmfao), OR a dropbox for direct praise for the OP, which they will see in their notes!! Therefore, I've always found that to be the perfect, least stressful way of interacting in a fandom. That way, your perspective is there for anyone who chooses to see it, but people have that choice of whether or not to respond or follow you based on what they see. Plus, finding & engaging with the content you like helps you to follow the people who are making the content you like!! And, once you have, & don't be afraid to TELL THEM you like their content!! People love compliments, especially about things they're passionate about!! And I can tell you from personal experience that some of my best fandom friends were made over a love of each other's content!! On that note -

If you feel inspired, don't be afraid to step up & make your own content!! This will ID you as a fellow active fandom member which will attract the people you want to befriend!! Sidenote: this isn't necessarily why I started writing fanfic, but it was a delightful facet of the result!! Before I was a writer in the fandom, I simply reblogged gifsets & text posts by other talented creators & hesitantly - but slowly more enthusiastically - shared my thoughts & feelings!! And by the time I started writing, my blog was Lizzington-themed & familiar to fellow shippers... And when I became something of a content creator in the form of fanfic, that's when I think I really started getting asks, which is a whole other lovely part of fandom!! Of course, it always helps to be friendly & approachable (which you already are, clearly, just based on this sweet ask!!) & to leave your ask box open & your anons on if you're comfortable with that!! So, when you feel ready, be willing to converse & engage with people in comments & replies on your content, bc people want to bond over their favorite things!! And tbh in that way?? Fandom is sort of easier than real life, bc the awkward phase of "finding common ground" is already done!! OH & ON THAT NOTE -

Try to remember that anxiety is your worst enemy, even in fandom space!! Personally, I've always found fandom a place to let go of the anxiety that plagues me more in real life, but of course it's not that simple & anxiety can still be very present in online interactions!! But try to remember that other people want to make fandom friends too!! And reaching out to someone to try & make a friend is 99% of the time NOT going to be a bother to them. If you feel unsure about reaching out (which I often do!!), just picture being on the receiving end of your kind messages & offers of friendship!! Would you ever be annoyed at someone polite or reject someone kind or shun a fellow member of your fandom?? No!! And the odds are that like-minded people won't either!! But worst case?? They just won't answer & that's okay, too, bc you've lost nothing by trying!! 😍🥰❤️

So yeah, I don't know if this is good advice for you, my dear anon, it's literally just my own experience... but I have to say that I'm so proud of you for wanting to work on your fandom shyness!! (NOT that that's a necessity btw!! I'm a firm believer that SHY /DOES NOT/ = BAD!! Shyness is not a trait that needs to be "fixed" or "worked on" & it is not inherently better or worse than being "out-going", regardless of what the rest of the world likes to tell & show us. It is simply a different, equally good way of being that brings an essential variety to the world.) But the difference here is intent. You WANT to change your fandom experience & therefore you're going out of your way to do so, even though it's tough, & that's very brave!! I'm proud of you!! 😊 Anyway, if this long-ass response hasn't scared you off, feel free to pop back any time, dear anon, whether it's for more (crappy) advice, support from a fellow anxious person, or just to chat about Lizzington or anything!! Good luck to you, my friend, and remember: you can do it!! Much love to you, always!! ❤️

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pens-swords-stuff · 2 years

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do you have any advice about writer's block? it's been 2 years since I finished or started anything, and I want to start writing again. I'm not certain what to do because all the advice I find is about getting inspired again or just waiting it out, but I never stopped having cool ideas and it's been a long time. If you got any advice, thank you.

Writing is a marathon, and right now it sounds like your writing muscles are extremely out of shape.

Maybe you used to run marathons all the time two years ago, and that's great! All of those accomplishments are still valid and are something to be proud of.

But at the same time, if you've been a couch potato for two long years, you can't just go out and run a full marathon like you used to. You have to start over; start small, train, get yourself ready, and prepare yourself to run that marathon again.

It's the same thing for writing.

Jumping into writing a full-length novel after not writing for a really long time is not only extremely difficult, it's also a lot of pressure. I feel like for a lot of writers, that pressure and that expectation that we're putting on ourselves is intimidating and paralyzing us so that we can't write.

And it's great that you never stopped having ideas! A lot of people need to regain that first, but you don't, so you're already headed in a good direction.

Right now, your task is to pick one idea, and write one sentence for it.

Just one. Don't bother trying to worldbuild or make it into a huge plot or anything. Just write one sentence for one idea. It doesn't have to be a good sentence either, and it doesn't have to be the introductory sentence. You just need to write one single crappy sentence.

Write one sentence for one idea everyday. Maybe you write two sentences or more if you feel like it, maybe not. But you need to write one sentence.

And once you get really good at writing one or more sentences in one day, move onto a paragraph. Once you're able to easily write one paragraph a day, move onto a full scene. Take it slow. Push yourself to write the minimum, but don't push yourself too hard. You need to figure out how to walk before you can start to run again.

The funny thing about writing is that the more you do it, the easier it gets. Right now, it seems like an insurmountable task because you haven't done it in a while. Once you get back into the swing of things and you're able to take the pressure off yourself to write well and to write a lot, it becomes easier. It stops being an impossible task that you're absolutely terrible at.

Embrace your mistakes, it's okay if it's not what you want it to be right now. Be gentle with yourself, write one sentence everyday, and you'll get there again. In fact, you'll end up a better writer than you were before.

Good luck.

Remember, all writing advice is subjective! Don’t take this too seriously. This is just one person’s opinion.

If you’d like to ask me for advice on writing or running a writeblr, please check out my Ask Guidelines and FAQ first.

Ask Guidelines | FAQ | Advice Masterlist

#writing #writeblr #writing advice #writing help #writing tips #undine answers stuff #undine gives advice

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septembercfawkes · 3 years

Text

Scene vs. Summary & When to Use Which

When I was a young writer, I didn't fully understand what a scene was and what a summary was. Later, when I understood the difference, I wasn't always sure when to use which. These days, I occasionally help writers with the same things. They may use summary for what should have been a scene, or they may write a whole scene for what really should have been summary. Understanding the difference and when to use which can be key when writing a successful novel.

Sure, some of it is subjective.

But what might be surprising to some, is that most of the time, one is more . . . "correct" than the other.

Scene

A scene is a structural unit that tends to have these qualities:

- Happens in Real Time

A scene will largely happen in real time. This means we "watch" the characters move, act, and talk, as if it were happening in real life.

- Dramatizes (Shows > Tells)

A scene dramatizes. It uses showing more than telling. If a character is angry with a friend, we see that anger in action and conversation. We may witness her yell or kick a rock, for example. It's like watching a stage play.

- Concrete

Because it is dramatized, a scene will usually be more concrete. It will more likely appeal to our senses and the physical world and experience.

- Characters Acting in a Specific Location

A scene will have characters in a location (in some very rare cases, the setting or society may act as characters). They might be talking on a train ride, or exploring a cave, or dueling in the snow.

Scene Examples

(Because a full scene often lasts pages, these examples are passages from specific scenes.)

"This won't take long, Andrew," said the doctor. Ender nodded. "It's designed to be removed. Without infection, without damage. But there'll be some tickling, and some people say they have a feeling of something missing. You'll keep looking around for something, something you were looking for, but you can't find it, and you can't remember what it was. So I'll tell you. It's the monitor you're looking for, and it isn't there. In a few days that feeling will pass." The doctor was twisting something at the back of Ender's head. Suddenly a pain stabbed through him like a needle from his neck to his groin. Ender felt his back spasm, and his body arched violently backward; his head struck the bed. He could feel his legs thrashing, and his hands were clenching each other, wringing each other so tightly that they arched. "Deedee!" shouted the doctor. "I need you!" The nurse ran in, gasped. "Got to relax these muscles. Get it to me, now! What are you waiting for!" Something changed hands; Ender could not see. He lurched to one side and fell off the examining table. "Catch him!" cried the nurse. "Just hold him steady--" "You hold him, doctor, he's too strong for me--" "Not the whole thing! You'll stop his heart--" Ender felt a needle enter his back just above the neck of his shirt. It burned, but wherever in him the fire spread, his muscles gradually un-clenched. Now he could cry for the fear and pain of it. "Are you all right, Andrew?" the nurse asked.

- Ender's Game by Orson Scott Card

Mrs. Reed occupied her usual seat by the fireside; she made a signal to me to approach; I did so, and she introduced me to the stony stranger with the words: “This is the little girl respecting whom I applied to you.” He, for it was a man, turned his head slowly towards where I stood, and having examined me with the two inquisitive-looking grey eyes which twinkled under a pair of bushy brows, said solemnly, and in a bass voice, “Her size is small: what is her age?” “Ten years.” “So much?” was the doubtful answer; and he prolonged his scrutiny for some minutes. Presently he addressed me—“Your name, little girl?” “Jane Eyre, sir.” In uttering these words I looked up: he seemed to me a tall gentleman; but then I was very little; his features were large, and they and all the lines of his frame were equally harsh and prim. “Well, Jane Eyre, and are you a good child?”

- Jane Eyre by Charlotte Brontë

Summary

A summary has these qualities:

- Condensed Time

Summaries condense time. They may cover a month in a single sentence. They may talk about recurring events over a time period, within one paragraph. They may relay a past event (or in some cases, a future event) within a brief moment. They don't happen in real time.

- Explains through Telling

Since the moment isn't happening in real time, the audience is told more than shown what happened. This gives summary a stronger, guiding, narrative hand. Rather than experiencing the passage like the character, it's more like the audience is being guided by a storyteller (generally speaking).

- More Abstract

For those reasons, telling is more abstract. It's more likely to express ideas and concepts, rather than specific experiences.

- Characters and/or Setting may Change Swiftly (or Maybe Not Even Be Present In Some Cases)

A summary may not focus on a specific character or stay in the same setting. It may move quickly through settings or may not even mention a specific setting.

Summary Examples

Mother came home and commiserated with Ender about the monitor. Father came home and kept saying it was such a wonderful surprise, they had such fantastic children that the government told them to have three, and now the government didn't want to take any of them after all, so here they were with three, they still had a Third . . . until Ender wanted to scream at him, I know I'm a Third, I know it, if you want I'll go away so you don't have to be embarrassed in front of everybody. - Ender's Game by Orson Scott Card

John had not much affection for his mother and sisters, and an antipathy to me. He bullied and punished me; not two or three times in the week, nor once or twice in the day, but continually: every nerve I had feared him, and every morsel of flesh in my bones shrank when he came near. There were moments when I was bewildered by the terror he inspired, because I had no appeal whatever against either his menaces or his inflictions; the servants did not like to offend their young master by taking my part against him, and Mrs. Reed was blind and deaf on the subject: she never saw him strike or heard him abuse me, though he did both now and then in her very presence, more frequently, however, behind her back.

- Jane Eyre by Charlotte Brontë

When to Use Which

Most novels are better written with more scene than summary. Scenes dramatize the story, so that the audience feels like they are experiencing and participating in it. Scenes are more impactful. Scenes are more likely to stir emotions. Because they are more concrete, they are more likely to stick in the reader's memory.

However, this is not to say all novels are better with more scene than summary. You can indeed find successful books with more summary. This can be particularly useful in books with huge casts and many viewpoint characters, books that take place over a long period of time (such as a character's entire life), or books with powerful, present omniscient narrators. Not all books that rely on summary more than scene are bad.

But most books are better told largely through scene than summary.

And pretty much all novels need some of both.

So when do we use which?

Sometimes I edit passages that are weakened because they are summarized instead of dramatized. Other times I read scenes that offer very little dramatic value and should have been summarized.

Scenes

A good rule of thumb is the more significant the moment, the more likely it needs to be rendered as a scene.

Big turning points and climactic moments should almost always be a scene--whether that turning point relates to character arc, plot, or theme.

This means that the climactic moments of the beginning, middle, and end, should almost always be a scene.

Anything we've been building up to in the primary plotline related to the arc, events, or theme, should probably be a scene.

If you are following a story structure, key moments in that structure should likely be a scene. The inciting incident should likely be a scene, the midpoint should likely be a scene, Plot Point 2 should likely be a scene . . .

Now, in a novel, there may be many plotlines besides the primary. The less important the plotline, the less likely you need all its turning points in scenes (or even on page).

Impactful moments should usually be scenes. If they are summary, sometimes the audience feels cheated. Imagine building up to the climax of a novel, only to have the author summarize it. It's almost always a letdown.

Sometimes newer writers do this sort of thing, because they are intimidated by trying to write the scene. They may feel unsure that they can write it well. Remember, you can edit, and edit, and re-edit the scene to make it better. Daring to write a poor scene and then edit it, will get you further in the long run than avoiding it altogether.

In many genres, you will have what are called "obligatory scenes." These are what they sound like. They need to happen. In a scene.

So in romance, you almost always need to have a first kiss scene. In a murder mystery, you almost always need to have an opening scene where a body is discovered. Obligatory scenes should be scenes, not summary, most of the time.

Summaries

On the other side of the spectrum, we have summary. If an entire novel were written with scenes, it would probably be long and boring. Not everything is important enough to be a scene. And if you make it a scene, it's a flat scene without any real turning point or change. This kills pacing.

Use summary when the audience needs to know the fact that something happened, but it's not important for them to experience it.

For example, the fact that Jacob didn't get much sleep the prior night probably isn't important enough for a full scene, but it might be important for the audience to know for the next scene. It might influence what happens in the next scene. That is a good time to use summary.

Use summary when you need to cover a broader length of time in a shorter amount of space. For example, you may have characters who need to trek to a distant land, which may take months. But the story isn't about the trek itself. Use summary to tell us about the trek, without making the story only about the trek. (Not to mention if the trek was all in scenes, it'd be overly detailed and likely boring.)

Along the same line, summary can sometimes be great for scene transitions--usually when what happened between the scenes is worth mentioning, but not worth dramatizing.

Summary is also important in providing context for the reader. Summary may be used to set up a situation or to provide additional background information that the reader needs in order to interpret what is happening in the story, accurately.

For example, you may summarize a short backstory to explain a character's current behavior.

Scene vs. Showing; Summary vs. Telling

Scene is mostly like showing, and summary is mostly like telling. However, the concepts are slightly different. For example, I may write in a scene "Emily was tired," which would be "telling" but I wouldn't consider it "summary." Just as I wouldn't necessarily consider "I felt angry" summary, so much as I would consider it to be telling.

Likewise, you may have a scene that is largely introspection, which may be showing a character's thought process as he summarizes events through telling sentences.

Yeah, if we get deep, it turns into splitting hairs.

Even between showing and telling, if you want to make yourself really crazy, sometimes you can use summary and telling on a small scale to show something on a big scale. For example, to show that a character has a habit of being late, you may use summary that includes some telling about his morning routine, to cover several such instances. However, one could easily argue that you could simply do a scene that shows him showing up late, and have another character use dialogue that implies this is a common occurrence.

But let's not induce headaches today! My point is, that the boundaries do blur, and things aren't always as clear cut as we make them sound.

Nonetheless, because summary and telling overlap, you can use many of the same technique that we use to write great telling, to write great summary. And rather than rewrite all those techniques, I have them in my article "10 Cheats to Tell Well."

Mixing Scene and Summary

In order to write a great novel, many scenes will include some summary within them. Like I mentioned above, you may need to slip in some backstory information through summary. Or perhaps in the scene, the characters are having dinner, but you want half the scene to be the cooking and the other half to happen while they are eating. Depending on how long the food takes to make, you may need some summarizing: "Don finished putting the toppings on the pizza and then put it in the oven for 30 minutes."

Similarly, if you are going to have a lengthy passage of summary, it's often effective to include scene-like moments--perhaps a paragraph that captures part of a conversation in real time, before going back to summary. Or maybe the summary includes a significant action that would be rendered better with a little more detail, like a half-scene.

In any case, we want to make sure we are using both scene and summary, and perhaps just as important, that we are using them at the right moments.

#writing tips #writing tips and tricks #writeblr #writing reference #writing tip #fanfic #written #editing

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darling-i-read-it · 3 years

Text

Theatrics

Jay Gatsby x reader

Word Count: 1.2k

Warnings: drinking, men coming onto the reader

Author’s Note: Thank you so much for requesting for Gatsby! No one ever requests for him so this was very fun to do. I hope you enjoy love!

Requested: by anon, Hi I’m new and I just recently got super into the great Gatsby I was hoping you could please do a Jay Gatsby (fanfic maybe) (2013 film) about him and his wife maybe where Jay hosts a party and someone tries flirting with the wife in front of Gatsby he doesn’t know they are married but Jay just kinda reacts if really appreciate it I have trouble finding Jay Gatsby 2013 stories so I’d love seeing it and I saw your previous stories and such you did on him your a fantastic writer!! (Maybe he was just smiles for a little knowing it was ridiculous than as it was clear he wasn’t going to be got more and more mad like he did at Tom during the hotel scene Oof-) (it so could be Tom and he gets really mad like bro you already had Daisy now you want my wife nah haha)

Summary: the request

I don’t own these characters. They belong to author/director/creator

(not my gif)

The party was about to start. You loved it when Jay threw parties. You knew that people would come to gossip and everyone in West Egg enjoyed a good Gatsby party. Maybe you just liked being the center of attention. Maybe you liked it when Jay was.

Whatever the reason was, you were pleased to find everything in place for your final preparations. People would start filling in soon in droves. You passed each other waiters carefully checking all of the plates they were holding. They made quick small talk as you passed, making sure everything was alright.

You heard a loud clap and everyone stopped moving.

Your eyes all went up to the staircase where Jay was standing, a grand smile on his face.

“My dear?!” he called.

“Yes?” you called back to him. He met your eyes from the distance, his smile widening.

“Open up the doors!”

You nodded and turned around to the waiters, gesturing for each of them to get the doors. You opened up the main one and people were already waiting.

You stood by the door as they came in, saying hello to those you knew and eavesdropping on those you didn’t. Before you knew it the room was completely filled to the brim with people. Drinks and food were being handed out. You had lost Jay to the crowd which was expected. You often found each other near the end of the night anyway.

“Y/N?” a man called. You turned, your lips upturned in a rehearsed smile.

“Nick! Hello dear, how are you? I thought you weren’t going to be able to make it,” you said, rushing over to your neighbor.

“I was able to afterall. Do you know where Gatsby is? Jay, I mean,” he said sheepishly. You shook your head.

“Sorry, I don’t. I’m sure he’s bound to turn up somewhere, sloshing some sort of drink around.” He nodded in agreement. “Try to enjoy yourself. There’s plenty of food if you want. Perhaps you can even find a nice person to go home with.” He shook his head laughing.

“I think I’ll have to find the food.” You nodded and patted him on the back.

“Then I will see you later. Have fun!” You walked past him further into the crowd. You loved these parties. You loved that barely anyone there knew that you lived there. Often people would whisper about Mr and Mrs Gatsby, the infamous party throwers and how people rarely had ever met the two of you.

You preferred to remain an idea.

You grabbed a champagne glass from one of the waiters and sat down in one of the free spots on the couches. You happened to be right next to a man you had never met before. You didn’t spare him more than a glance but you could feel his gaze on you as you took a drink of your champagne.

“Do you frequent these parties?” he asked you. You looked over at him and gave him the ‘who me?’ look before answering.

“No, can’t say that I do,” you said. You liked your identity as an idea, why not keep it that way? Plus, you had to have a little fun at these parties if you wanted to keep them going.

“You’re gorgeous, I think I would remember you,” he said, leaning against the couch. You smiled politely.

“Thank you.”

“Isn’t this house beautiful? I hear the couple that lives here is even more so. I mean, not nearly as beautiful as you though.” You held back a scoff.

“Yes it’s a wonderful house.”

“So what’s your name? Did you come with someone?”

“Actually yes, I did.”

“Oh well you don’t have to leave with them,” he said leaning into you. His breath stunk of alcohol. You stood up slowly.

“Thank you but I’m truly alright,” you told him as kindly as you could muster. He stood up too. You were trying to figure out how you were going to get out of this hole you had dug yourself when you felt a hand on the small of your back. You turned swiftly to find Jay standing beside you. “There you are,” you said happily.

“Who’s this?” he asked stiffly. The man extended his hand.

“Daniel.” Jay didn’t shake it and Daniel let his hand drop awkwardly. “You are?”

“Jay Gatsby. This, old chap, is my wife you were speaking with.” You could feel his light tension but didn't imagine that he would get into too much of a fight.

“Oh!” Daniel said, suddenly very embarrassed. “My apologies, I didn't know.” You gave him a curt nod.

“Clearly,” Jay said. “I was about to get something from the kitchen if you would like to join me,” he said to you. You nodded pleasantly.

“Lead the way darling.”

The two of you left the man in the dust as you weaved through the crowd to the bustling kitchen. Waiters came and went but it was big enough to where you were able to get a moment of peace there. The guests greatly outnumbered the waiters.

“Nick was looking for you,” you said.

“Everyone is looking for me dear,” he said, leaning against the wall. “We’re the Gatsbys.” You nodded slowly, looking at him.

“I was about to tell him that you know.”

“Oh I know. But I wanted to make sure you got lost in the crowd before he could find you again.”

“After your clear intimidation, I don’t think he will go looking again,” you promised, grabbing his hand. You kissed the back of his hand gently and he brought his other hand to his cheek.

“I am known for my theatrics.”

“You don’t have to tell me that darling.”

#jay gatsby x reader #jay gatsby imagines

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seokmingiggles · 2 years

Text

to you.

on december 15, 2020, at 1:15 am, i posted my first fic. and as corny as it sounds, i never anticipated for my writing blog to take off. although it’s now privated, the fic i posted that night was not only the first story i’ve ever finished plot-wise but also the beginning to earn me my first likes, comments, reblogs, requests, followers, network applications and acceptances, friends made, tears shed with said friends, late nights video chatting with said friends, talking to these said friends on a daily basis. i couldn’t have imagined any of that. and yet, here i am, one year later.

forgive me in advance, for despite being a rather emotional water sign, i don’t like sharing the deeper, more personal feelings of mine (god, it’s probably all the damn aquarius in my natal chart). i’m the type of person who can’t say “i love you” aloud (which is probably really fucking ironic because i write so much about relationships and love on here and have a big-ass crush on lee seokmi—). but i try to say it through my actions, or perhaps in phrases alike in meaning.

for the past year, i’ve received so much love, and i’ll forever have gratitude for this period in my life, as fleeting as it may be. some of my mutuals know (i’m sorry, samanter) that i’ve joked around about quitting being a writer on tumblr. but as busy as i can get as a student, as inactive as i can sporadically be without warning—i think i like it here too much.

of course, i couldn’t have made that decision if i were alone. for the past year, i’ve unselfishly focussed on myself. i've focussed on creating content to put out into the world as small as my corner of the internet may be; i’ve focussed on prioritizing my schooling, which is honestly kind of hard not to focus on. i've focussed on mental wellbeing, on writing when feeling inspired, on not writing when i don’t feel up for the challenge. i’ve focussed on the accomplishments, both big and small, on my feelings, on the way i want to be perceived online. and now, i'm focussing on you.

this one's to all the people who i’ve grown to care about since i started this blog one year ago.

this one’s to you.

to you, who i see the most on tumblr.

@aunty-tiger-potato mary, i know i’m the worst at holding a conversation, but you keep coming back into my asks, and it never fails to make me smile when i see you in my inbox. i feel like you can somehow predict the exact moments when i’m too deeply submerged beneath my assignments, and you help to pull me back to the surface for a breath of fresh air. you remind me of a flower. perhaps a carnation. maybe it’s because you’re a poet and have such an elegant way with words—it could also be because your pfp on your main blog is a flower—but you have tranquillity accompanying your presence online.

@lovingyu04 aza!! i haven’t seen you around much lately, but i hope this message finds you well. i’ll say it over and over again until you’re tired of hearing it—but your writing is something truly magical and comforting and just plain genius. i truly hope that you know your talent because it was as clear as day to me right from the first fic i read of yours.

@lunatens omg i was so intimidated by you and your blog at first, luna !! that sounds so silly now as i look back because as soon as we became mutuals, it was in that same instant i realized what a kind person you are. literally, every interaction with you has made me smile. from countless tag games that i’m so slow at reciprocating to reblogging each other’s fics—i cherish it all. thank you for your warmth.

@adi--writes honestly, adi, i can’t remember exactly how we became mutuals. i want to say it started through fic reblog hashtags?? but frankly, none of that matters anymore when i see our friendship as nothing but supportive of each other. it still blows my mind that one of my favourite writers interacts with me, LOL. i’ll never forget your kindness in the form of sending me asks, comments, likes, reblogs, and writing two whole-ass fics for me. and now it seems like we’re attacking each other in the form of gifs?? y’know. sure, i’ll accept that challenge. ilysm.

┊ ➶ ｡˚ 　•　°

to you, my family in cwc.

@wonwooslibrary sham-wow-manter! :D you’re quite possibly one of the first self-admitted supporters of my writing, even before we got to know each other in cwc. but you’re also one of the first people i became close with back in january :< i know i tease and joke around with you a lot, but i hope you know none of it should be taken to heart. frankly, i care about you a lot and want nothing more than for you to follow your higher-education dreams in the near future. you have so much ahead of you to come, and i can’t wait to hear all about it <3

@ahloveisboo we were in the same cwc acceptance batch back at the start of the year, jo, and that probably helped to spark our interactions with each other. for some reason, that one time you slid into my dms with a photo of someone’s (clothed, for the sake of context if anyone else happens to be reading this) butt and asked me to identify it... which happened to be seokmin. i don’t know why that’s what i associate our friendship as, LOL. but beyond that, it’s been a pleasure to see your progression with discovering new kpop groups and figuring out your biases in each of them. yoongi and seungkwan and kevin and jacob all love you !!!

@woozisfilms lissa, the talented lil nugget ;-; please, never stop creating; never stop making art. god, if i had even an ounce of the talent you have for drawing (and writing, for that matter), i’d forever be content. but here you are, doing it all, and you’re so young still! you never fail to amaze me. seriously. i can’t wait to see what you’ll accomplish in your future.

@gallivantingheart taylor!! i can never predict when you’ll pop up in cwc, but each time makes me smile. you’re probably meena’s #1 supporter, frankly, and both she and i adore you for that. if we didn’t live so damn far away, our cats (and us for that matter, LOL) could meet up :< your sense of humour and overall vernacular (maybe it’s an australian thing?) are effortlessly funny as hell. please, never change.

@merakiiverse for a lack of better words, you’re one of the most gentle souls i’ve encountered this year, meraki. there’s an associated sincerity that follows you? yeah. i’m having a hard time putting this into words (not to mention it’s currently 3:30 in the morning when i’m typing this) >< it’s like the feeling that accompanies fresh laundry. maybe in a field of tulips in the springtime, too. that’s you. that’s you, meraki. i hope you’re doing well.

@minghaofilm fel, the day you decided to be more active in the cwc discord was nothing short of a fantastic choice. you have such an amazing sense of humour, and it would be distasteful if i didn’t say something about your writing abilities. fun fact—i reread twisted fate the other day after i rewatched endgame for the first time since i saw it on its opening weekend. i was in a really dark place around the time of that movie’s release, but reading that fic of yours somehow grounds me and reminds me that with time, changes happen. i’ve missed your presence in the server recently and only hope for the best for you. chan lobes you :D

@heartshxkr one of the first things i remember interacting with you, ves, had to do with mermaids. but not even a month later, you, me, and sam hung out in vc for like . 10 hours or something?? god, i don’t even remember, but it was a long-ass time, although passing by so quickly because we got along so fast. from there, ah, my prop prompt... i don’t think i need to elaborate there :) our interactions are probably some of the most chaotic messes, but i couldn’t care less. i think you're wonderful.

@bermudas eun! thank you for introducing me to (and revealing that i have a crying soulmate bc apparently that’s a thing now??) fork mf. i wish i was kidding, LOL. no, but beyond that, this will probably sound kinda weird, but i can almost see you as a younger sibling?? maybe because you’re the same age as my stepbrother, or maybe because i feel like . i can just tease you in a sort of way?? oml that sounds awful, but i swear it’s not in evil intent. i only can joke around with people like that once i feel comfortable around them, and not only is that prevalent around you but also within the network you’ve created. thank you for all that you’ve done to make such a pleasant and safe space for a wide variety of people. (p.s. i think you and your boyf are cute af and you’ll never hear me say that again, so bls cherish it here <3)

@woozisnoots alex, you were the first person to contact me within a week or two after i created this blog. you’re also the one to introduce me to cwc in the first place. it’s tough to say if i were to find the network on my own without your guidance, but looking back, my tumblr experience (and overall year) would be drastically different had i not followed your lead. it’s easy to think “it’s not that deep” when only considering that cwc is a network for writers, but it is that deep when considering you were the catalyst for me meeting so many people who’d become prominent figures during a time where, hell, it’s so damn lonely in person because of the pandemic. i appreciate you a lot, alex. thank you for all that you’ve done.

┊ ➶ ｡˚ 　•　°

to you, my lanseokers.

@cheolbooluvr hi chris,, i don’t know why this is a separate category from my cwc family, but here you go. i’m drawing attention to lanseok. you’re welcome. we only more recently began to interact more when you joined cwc, but i feel like we made a connection with our lscccp and photocard collecting :< i’ll never get over what a fantastic writer and artist you are. i perceive you as that type of person who’s good at literally anything and everything, and honestly, it sometimes intimidates the hell out of me, LOL. but alongside your talents comes a joyous person who i just know cheol would adore, too. thank you for supporting the lanseok agenda even when i try to deny it as much as i can. i think you know it makes me smile.

@februaryflowers hi hi, mei :3 firstly, i lobe you. and so does wonu. and i’d also normally say so does jihoon, but i’m learning to accept meihoon’s break-up :EUWAH:. as you said in your recent milestone post (THAT ISTG I FORGOT IS ALSO TITLED TO YOU fUK), we’ve only recently become closer. but it felt natural?? i don’t know. you’re so easy and fun to chat with, not to mention one of the sweetest, most caring, hardworking, talented, and funny individuals i know (and you’ve also given me so many seok polas and sheepo, for heck’s sake). for some reason, writing this message to you is one of the hardest on this list despite chatting with you nearly every day lately. i feel like i’m indebted to you because of how selfless you are. but beyond that, i’m glad to have found the vernon to my hao ^^ i’m probably going to sound like a grandparent now when i say that you’ve got a good head on your shoulders. i’m so proud of you and hope that you’re proud of yourself too.

┊ ➶ ｡˚ 　•　°

to you, who i don’t talk with as much but still cherish, nonetheless.

@hoshblr @networkluvs @sincerelyskye @starlightjoong @kthpurplesyou @escapewriter @subways-stuff @masterninjacow @gyukult @haechanblr @svtxsoju @woogyu

hello, hello!! thank you all for being a part of my pleasant memories from the past year, despite not necessarily interacting frequently. whether it’s been through tag games or mutual writing networks, you’ve all shown me kindness and patience, and i hope you know my gratitude for you all <3

┊ ➶ ｡˚ 　•　°

to you, any reader who has come this far.

i cannot emphasize how bizarre it still is to get traction on my works. i’m certainly not the biggest fic writing blog out here, nor do i wish to be. but regardless, any message of feedback that i’ve received over this past year has proved that i’m at least doing something right.

to quote myself from a year ago, i’d written a post saying, “i honestly didn’t expect anyone to read my stories as i don’t think they’re anything incredible, but every single like or comment thus far has been blowing me away.” that still holds up to this day. i’m no longer able to churn out fourteen fics in fifteen days (seriously, how the fuck did i do that last december??), but i’m instead prioritizing putting works out that i genuinely enjoy reading myself. i’m a significantly slower writer than i used to be, i’ll admit. yet, despite my absence for sometimes a month or two, know that i’m still here. and i don’t want that to change for at least another year, LOL.

thank you to everyone i’ve tagged above and also those (if there are any) who may have read this far down. i’m terrified that i’m forgetting to mention someone, so if that’s you, feel free to storm in my dms and yell at me. i’m only half-joking.

this post is significantly longer than i had anticipated, but i think it also captures that i genuinely couldn’t have been here for the past year by myself. i know none of you in person nor may ever meet you in real life, but—at least on my end—that doesn’t affect the closeness i feel.

i thank you all for your interactions with me, big or small, and hope for nothing but the best to come your way.

cheers to the past year, lannie

#1 year with lan #to my friends #all of you have changed my life to some degree over the past year #i hope you can feel my gratitude even for just a moment #hey scorpio-antis—this is proof that we have a heart D:#i low key hope that no one reads this entire thing bc it's a l0ng boi #mEI ISTG I FORGOT WHAT U TITLED YOUR THANK YOU POST WA #i'm literally queuing this to the hour and running bc good golly !! there's so much of my feelings in this post !! and i'm hecking scared !!

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hangovercurse · 3 years

Text

The Things We Can’t Tell Pete About

Pete invites you to meet his friends from The Dirt and makes you promise not to flirt with any of them, which is a lot easier said than done, especially when Colson Baker acts like that.

Request: “Hey so I love all your writing and I just thought you should know that! But also I’d your requests are on still would you mind writing a youre Pete’s little sister but kells got a crush xx”

Colson x reader

Warnings: Drug use, Cursing

A/N: I know, Dom (Yungblud) wrote the song, but also I am the writer and I say that Y/N wrote it :) Anyways, enjoy. This is only part 1 of what is probably going to be a fun, cute lil series. Also thank you to the anon who sent this! You made my day(s)

Word Count: 2411

| ii | iii | iv | v |

masterlist

New York was lonely without your brother. He had been filming in New Orleans for the past three months, leaving you alone. You had some friends, but Pete was your best friend. You were only eight months younger than him and practically attached at the hip. You supposed going through trauma together would do that to people.

He facetimed you all the time from set, updating you on things in his life, showing you cool stuff from the set, and introducing you to his castmates. You had kept him updated on your music, playing him demos of songs you were writing and getting his opinion on them.

Him being away wasn’t the worst thing in the world, but it definitely sucked for you. So, when Pete texted you that he was having a few friends from the movie over the night he got back, you were ecstatic.

Before you left your apartment to walk to his, he texted you.

You’re not allowed to flirt with any of my friends

You rolled your eyes as you locked your door, preparing a response.

I’ll try my best

Your phone buzzed seconds later.

I’m serious. I don’t trust any of them with you.

And I don’t need that kind of awkwardness in my life

Like if you date one of my friends and it goes badly

I don’t wanna deal with that shit

You chuckled at his chain of texts.

Don’t flirt with your friends because they’re dicks, got it

Don’t worry bro, I know the sibling code

You came to find out that that was a lot easier said than done. When you walked into his place, everyone in the room turned to look at you. You recognized most of them from your facetimes with Pete, but you doubted they remembered who you were. One who did remember you was Colson, Pete’s new best friend. He made eye contact with you from across the room, a sly grin on his lips. You sent him a small smile, Pete’s text running through your head briefly.

You found your brother lounging on the couch, a huge grin on his face. He was definitely tripping on mushrooms. “Y/N!” He yelled. “This is my baby sister, everyone.”

You rolled your eyes, walking further into the room, grabbing a drink from the cooler, and taking an empty seat on the opposite couch. “I’m less than a year younger than you, Pete.”

You heard a snicker from the one of the guys, looking over to see Colson covering up the smile on his face. “But you’re still younger than me so it counts.”

Everyone went back to their own conversations, which you were thankful for. “Y/N, you remember Colson, right?” Pete motioned to the blond guy.

“Yeah.” You nodded, looking him up and down. His muscle tank exposed the sleeves of tattoos, which seemed to cover every inch of his skin. “Your hair was different, but yeah I remember you.” You opened the beer on the coffee table, taking a swig.

“You’re the musician, right?” He asked you, leaning back onto the couch.

You nodded, “Aspiring musician but, yeah.”

“Oh, she’s great. You should hear her sometime.” Pete butted in, grinning like an idiot at you.

You rolled your eyes but had a smile on your face. “I work primarily as a songwriter and editor right now, but I’m trying to work on putting out some of my own stuff.”

You felt a little intimidated talking to Machine Gun Kelly about music, seeing as he was one of the best in the industry, but he seemed to be genuinely interested in your work. “Well, if you ever want some help or someone to listen to it, I’d be willing.” He flashed a smile, his bright blue eyes sparkling.

“Thanks, that’s really cool of you.” You bit your lip slightly, trying to hide the fact that you were totally breaking Pete’s rule.

Pete sent a glare your way to which you raised your eyebrow. You weren’t really flirting; you were just… making connections. “Anyways,” he cleared his throat, “I’ve been working on this sketch idea, Y/N, and I need your opinion.”

You nodded, letting him talk. “So, I was thinking like, there’s this guy with posters all over his wall. Like life size posters of a bunch of different people. And he falls asleep while doing homework and he dreams about them coming to life. And it plays out like one of those really bad commercials that encourage kids to stay in school and shit. Like the posters are telling him to study for his test, but then there’s this one poster that’s like, very sexy. And she’s just like, talking about hot dogs and everyone else gets really sick of it and one of the other posters tries to like, tear down her poster or something.”

Throughout his description, you got more and more confused. “Pete, that’s not funny that’s just fuckin weird.” His mouth hung open in shock. “Dude, seriously? The big punchline is the playboy poster girl talking about hot dogs until the other poster people get tired of it?”

“Yes.” Pete said, as if it were obvious. “That’s hilarious.” You glanced at Colson with a questioning look on your face. He seemed as unsure of the joke as you were.

“Pete, man, that’s not your best work.” Colson clapped him on the shoulder and you giggled at Pete’s disappointed expression.

“You guys are mean.” He pouted and you two laughed. “Ok, well, how would you make it funny?”

“I don’t know if you can, bro.” Colson’s laugh was contagious. When he laughed his whole body shook, his feet stomping and everything.

“What are the other posters?” You asked, trying to be supportive but knowing this wouldn’t turn out very good.

“Well, I was thinking maybe one is like a video game character. Like that lady from Wreck-It-Ralph. The mean one. And then like a snowboarder who is definitely high, and someone else, I dunno.” He shrugged, taking a hit from the joint in his hand and passing it to you.

“Okay…” You trailed off, looking at Colson for support. You brought the blunt to your lips, inhaling the smoke and bringing it down, letting the smoke leave your mouth slowly. You passed the joint to Colson, who gladly took it, a smirk on his face.

Pete looked between you two at the small interaction, a frown. “So, the posters,” he brought your attention away from the man again, “they’re all really serious about teaching this dude math. But the hotdog girl just keeps talking about hot dogs in like this really high-pitched voice.”

You watched the smoke fall from Colson’s lips, not fully paying attention to your brother.

“Yeah man, I think that sounds funny.” Colson told Pete, his eyes lingering on you for a little longer than they should have. “It could use some work but if anyone can make it funny, it’s you.” Colson punched your brother on the shoulder, but the look he sent you said the exact opposite.

You held in your giggle, taking another sip of your beer.

The rest of the night followed a similar pattern, you and Colson flirting and Pete trying to get in between you two. At one point, after a few more hits of weed and a couple more drinks, Colson brought out a guitar, insisting you play something for him. Where he got the guitar from, you had no idea, but you didn’t ask questions. Instead, you rolled your eyes, insisting that “if I have to play something, so do you.”

Everyone was too caught up in their own conversations to care about the noise, or too drunk. You started strumming, trying to remember the chords to a song you had started writing a few days ago. “There’s no lyrics yet, just a melody I came up with.” You blushed, feeling very self-conscious suddenly.

“Guess I’ll just free style to it then.” He chuckled as you started to strum, your fingers working the strings like they had your whole life.

The blond man closed his eyes, head nodding as you played and thinking of what to rap.

“Watch me, take a good thing and fuck it all up in one night. Catch me, I’m the one on the run away from the headlights.

No sleep, up all week wastin time with people I don’t like. I think, somethin’s fuckin wrong with me.

You smiled as he sang, watching his expressions change as he tried to think up the next line.

Drown myself in alcohol, that shit never helps at all

I might say some stupid things tonight when you pick up this call

I be hearin silence on the other side for way to long, I can taste it on my tongue, I can tell that somethin’s wrong.”

He opened his eyes, looking rather proud of himself. “I had some of those lyrics already, but I just changed ‘em a little. I really liked that.”

You nodded, “That was impressive.” You smiled, looking back down to the guitar when something hit you.

You began to play the same melody but pitched higher to fit your voice.

“Roll me up, and smoke me love

And we could fly into the night

You take drugs, to let go, and figure it all out on your own

Take drugs, on gravestones, to figure it all out on your own.”

You looked up to Colson, watching his expression change, his eyes wide. Pete had a proud look on his face.

“Pete, you are a sucky hype man. You did her no justice.” Colson hit Pete on the arm.

“Whaddya mean, I told you she was great.”

Colson looked over to you, a stupid smile on his face. “Seriously, that was fucking amazing. Like, we gotta write that shit out some day.”

You bit your lip, trying to stop the blush from reaching your cheeks. “Yeah, that’d be cool.” You were trying your best to keep your cool as Colson kept his gaze on you, but you were completely freaking out on the inside.

A little while later, almost everyone was gone except you, Pete, Colson, and Douglas Booth, who joined your conversation not long after your jam session. Pete let out a yawn, directing your attention to the time.

“Jesus, it’s already 4am?” You asked, a frown on your face.

“Why, you got somewhere to be, darling?” Douglas asked you, your face scrunching up from the nickname.

“I have a writing session at 11 am tomorrow. Or, today, I guess.”

Pete reached out to hit you in the head, playfully, which you dodged. “Go to bed, dummy.”

You shrugged, “I’m gonna be dead at it anyways, might as well keep the party going a little longer.”

Douglas rolled his eyes, patting your shoulder. “Be that as it may, I am ending this party and going home. Goodnight, guys. It was nice meeting you again, Y/N. Good to see you guys.” Douglas and the guys did that little hand slap and hug thing before he left.

“I love you both, but I will also be going to sleep. And you should too.” Pete stood up, stretching his arms out before giving Colson a fist bump and leaving to his bedroom.

Once your older brother left, Colson moved to the couch you were on, his arm falling over your shoulders. You looked up at him, raising an eyebrow. “And how can I help you Mr. Kelly?”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “I’m assuming Pete gave us both very similar talking to’s, given the glares you’ve been receiving all night.”

“You mean the “don’t flirt with my friends” talking to or the other one?” You tilted your head, a sly look on your face.

“That’s the one.” Colson laughed through his nose, an adorable smile on his face. You were both considerably high, but you still knew exactly what you were doing.

You moved closer to Colson’s body, “Well then I guess we’d better not do this.” You said quietly, leaning into him. “Or this,” You grabbed his jaw, inches from his face.

“Or this?” He whispered, connecting your lips. You smiled into the kiss, tasting the weed on his tongue. You adjusted your body so you were facing him, his arm that was once around your shoulder now wrapped around your waist.

His other hand grabbed your leg, pulling you up so you were straddling his lap, and your arms wrapped around his neck. His lips seemed to fit perfectly around yours, and you did all you could to keep yourself from moaning into the kiss as his hand began to travel up your leg.

Realization hit you like a brick wall, and you pulled away, your breathing heavy. “Sorry,” you muttered after a few seconds. You climbed off his lap, smoothing out your shirt. “We shouldn’t do that. I shouldn’t have done that.” You smiled awkwardly down at him.

He nodded, the same realization hitting him. “Yeah, that’s not the best idea. Sorry I wasn’t really thinking.”

You shook your head, cheeks still very red. “No, no, no don’t apologize. It was fine, it’s all fine.”

He nodded, looking down awkwardly. “I should get going.” He stood up, landing a little too close to you.

“Why don’t you just sleep here? Pete won’t mind and it’s a lot easier than going home.” You bit your lip awkwardly, taking a few steps back.

Colson scratched the back of his neck. This was a very different demeanor than he had before, and you found it very cute. “Are you sure?”

You nod. “I’ll get you some blankets and pillows.” You moved towards the guest bedroom, a guilty smile on your face. You moved your hand to your lips, feeling where Colson’s lips had graced you minutes before.

You came back to find Colson laying on the couch, one hand behind his head. “We don’t have to tell Pete about that, right?”

You shook your head, a small smile still playing on your lips. You put the pillow behind his head, watching his eyes as he watched your lips. “Stop looking at me like that or I’ll do something else we can’t tell Pete about.” You said quietly, watching him grin. You pulled the blanket over him, leaning down to be level with his face.

“I kind of like the things we can’t tell Pete about.” Colson chuckled, leaning forward to connect your lips again.

#mgk #mgk imagine #mgk angst #mgk fluff #machine gun kelly #machine gun kelly imagine #Colson baker #colson x reader #colson baker imagine #colson baker fluff #colson baker angst #pete davidson

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randomshyperson · 3 years

Text

THE SCARLET WITCH PROPHECY - Chapter VI - The Fourth Year (Final Part)

Gif is not mine, blessed are the gif makers.

Summary: As the youngest daughter of Howard Stark, you have ordinary expectations for your years at Hogwarts. Little do you know what adventures await you when your destiny is intertwined with the legendary Scarlet Witch.

Warnings: +16. Adaptation of the Harry Potter Saga, Magical Thematic, Prophecies, Mentions of Violence, Torture and dark magic, Language (swearing and minor/major offenses), manipulation of will, Underage kissing, insinuation of smut with minors, Smut (overage), descriptions of death, aggression, obscurity, angst, fluffy, soulmates analogies. | Chapters Warnings: Heavy angst in this.

A/N: This took me a while, because i had writer block (and it's not over yet). Anyway, I hope people like this. Let me know if anything is confusing okay? Sorry about typos too.

Words counting: 11.344K

Series Masterlist || Read on AO3 || All Works Masterlist

//-//

The Fourth Year - Final Part

Wanda was avoiding you. Well, not just you, but all your friends.

You told Gamora what happened, but you didn't have the stomach to repeat the story to anyone else, so your sister passed the news on.

You were coping well in spite of everything. You missed her terribly the whole time, but you were pushing the feelings down and trying to stay positive about everything.

By trying to put yourself in Wanda's shoes, you understood why she did what she did. You just had to find a way to prove to her that what you felt was real, and for that you needed to find out more about your magical bond.

Your best alternative to the lack of books about it in the library was to talk to the professors. Judging from your experience with them, none of the teachers would tell you anything. But Fury has been acting very differently all year, and although you don't agree with the way he has been teaching D.A.D.A. lately, you have the impression that he would tell you anything you asked.

That's why after a particularly exhausting class where he made all students practice the shield spell until one of the boys threw up, you waited until the room emptied to talk to him, watching with curiosity as he turned a small bottle he kept in his pocket to his mouth.

"What is it Stark?" He asked still on his back. You wondered if behind the eye patch he had some enchanted eye to see around things, but the idea seemed too absurd to you.

"Sorry, Professor Fury." You say. "I have a question about advanced magic and would like to clear it with you."

Fury put his materials away in his bag, and beckoned for you to accompany him into the private office, and you followed him into the small room, watching him set the desk on a coffee table and move toward a glass cabinet of magic supplies.

"Have a seat and make yourself comfortable." He said with his back turned. "I need to prepare a potion, but you can ask me what you want."

You stumble half-heartedly to one of the empty armchairs, and then clear your throat.

"It's about magic bonds, professor." You recount. "I... well, I think I have one. And well, I'm not finding much material on it, and I don't understand how they work."

Fury makes a noise with his mouth in understanding, his hands wandering through the cabinets behind ingredients you don't recognize, but he seems to be paying attention to both you and the brewing of the potion.

"Are you familiar with the concept of magical bonds and connections, Miss Stark?" He asks and you deny it. The professor cuts something that looks like mushrooms on the table as he speaks again. "The reason you can't find books that explain to you exactly the nature of this magic, is because no wizard has been able to decipher these enchantments correctly." He explains. "The magical bonds are one of the oldest and most powerful enchantments in the magical world, Miss Stark. Extremely dangerous, yet immeasurably valuable for some purposes."

You swallow dryly, but do not interrupt. Professor Fury bends down to reach a tin cauldron and places it on the counter in front of him, on a small makeshift stove. He deposits some ingredients inside.

"Have you ever heard about any of these bonding spells?" He asks and you think for a moment.

"I think I've heard about the perpetual vow, sir."

Fury gives a small smile, nodding. He sniffs a small bottle before pouring the contents into the cauldron.

"Yes, the perpetual vow is a great example of a magical bond." He says. "But it is still an active spell, you need to recite an incantation and both parties need to voluntarily close the bond. Some witches believe it's a contractual magic, much more than a natural connection." Fury explains. "I particularly prefer to use another example, Stark. The life debt."

Fury has a smile at the corner of his lips, and a strange gleam in his eyes when he looks at you for a moment, but you don't have the courage to ask. He turns his attention back to the cauldron, lighting the flame under the metal with his wand.

"I don't know what that means." You confess and the professor doesn't take his eyes off the cauldron.

"A life debt is a magical bond created when a wizard or witch saves the life of another magical being." He explains. "And I say magical being, not just another wizard, because I've seen it happen once for a centaur to owe a wizard their life. But never the other way around."

"How does that work?"

"It's very simple really." He says. "If you save someone's life, that person or creature will owe you a debt. The bond is created, without needing an incantation. The act of preserving a life is magical enough to create that bond." He explains and his expression turns almost somber. "The best part is that the person saved needs to pay back."

"And how do they do it?"

"A life can only be paid with another life." He declares. By now, the potion is smelling. You don't know what it is, but it looks like lavender, and it makes you a little dizzy. "I have witnessed a quitting in my time as an auror, Miss Stark." He tells you, and you already imagine that what he is about to say is not something you should tell a fourteen-year-old witch, but you don't think to interrupt. "The debtor throws himself in front of the Reducto incantation to prevent the death of the witch who saved him once. I still remember the pieces flying around the room."

You looked away, uncomfortable with the mental image you were given. The professor didn't seem to mind.

"But of course not all debts are paid off like that." He added as if he hadn't just told the story of someone tearing themselves apart. "Stopping a friend from falling off his broom in a game of quidditch might be enough to pay off a debt. Or to create one too." He counters. " This kind of magic has always been very difficult to decipher."

You murmur in understanding, keeping your gaze on the floor. The professor sighs lightly, moving away from the cauldron to sit in the empty armchair in front of you.

"But I'm guessing you're not talking about any of these bonds, are you?" He hints and you swallow dryly, feeling intimidated by the watchful gaze he gives you. You figure that lying is not an option.

"N-no sir." You reply. "I wanted to know more about protective bonds. Like... like the idea of someone you care about getting hurt, causes you a really bad feeling. And it makes you ignore your own safety and makes you go too far e...."

"Impressive." The professor interrupts, his gaze almost fascinated on you, and making you swallow dryly. "And how far are we talking about, Stark? What's the limit? Would the wizard put themselves in front of an unforgivable curse? Would they offer themselves up as a sacrifice? If one were to get hurt, would the bruises show up on the other, or does the very idea make your insides turn? Or…”

"Fury." You jump in fright when Strange's voice interrupts the monologue of the other man, who was very close to you now.

Fury looks annoyed that he has been cut off, but he turns away with a smile. "Pardon the interruption. I need to have a word with you on a matter." Stephen said, but he didn't look happy at all, and his expression was one of concern and disapproval, probably from the discussion he witnessed.

You stood up awkwardly, taking a step back, your heart still racing from the things the professor told you.

"Of course, Professor Strange." Fury spoke as he stood up. "Stark, I hope that has cleared up your doubts. If there is anything else you wish to ask me, you may come to my office as needed."

You bit your tongue to avoid saying that Fury only scared you rather than clarifying anything, and nodded in understanding.

"Defense Against the Dark Arts may not be my class, but I am also available to talk with you, Miss Stark." Stephen added softly as you passed him in the doorway. You mumbled a goodbye before walking out of the office, ignoring the horrible feeling that settled in your stomach.

//-//

You were really disturbed by the conversation with Professor Fury. The story of the wizard casting himself in front of a spell gave you strange dreams, and you could no longer be sure that you wouldn't do the same for Wanda.

Your friends were equally impressed by what you told them, and you ignored the feeling of dissatisfaction at the pit of your stomach that you felt because you wish you were talking to Wanda about it, and tried to be more grateful that you have someone to talk to at all.

You were thinking of talking to Tony about everything, and you thought you'd look for him in the Slytherin hall, and to your surprise, he showed up in your common room. You thought he was there to spend some time with Steve, but he really came to see you.

"Daddy wrote for us." He explains as soon as he greets you. The letter already open in your hands as he throws himself on the couch in the communal hall. It is Sunday, but the room is very empty because with the amount of free time and foreigners in the castles, most of the students are socializing outside. You had dismissed your friends' invitation to practice Quidditch in exchange for a nap, as you were upset by the way Wanda left the main hall at breakfast when she realized you were sitting at the Slytherin table with her brother.

"Finally." You grumble as you sit down in the armchair across from Tony, stretching out your arm to pick up the letter. It must have been the first letter in three months or more. Last time, your father had said he was overwhelmed with work and would not send any news for a while. You thought it would be days, but it was months. Jarvis at least wrote to tell that he was alive, working in the basement.

Looking down at the paper, you began to read:

"Dear children, how is school going? I hope you are studying as I have always asked you to do. I have been busy with an important project at the ministry, an invention to improve the astronomical forecasts of the wizarding community. Please forgive me for the lack of contact these last months.

Tony, I received the letter about the detention, and I was quite upset when I heard about the bet. You are the older brother and you should protect your sister, not put her in danger. But I am glad that everything ended well and hope that this kind of behavior will not happen again.

Y/N, dear, I heard about your willingness to start studying Muggle Studies, and I'm very glad..."

You stop reading the letter halfway through, frowning and looking at Tony next, who was lying with his head on the cushions and his arm under his eyes.

"What kind of crap is this?" you ask with confusion and irritation, causing Tony to let out a short chuckle. "Dad telling us to study? What the...?"

"It doesn't sound anything like him, I know." Tony interrupts and then sighs, sitting down on the couch to point to the paper. "And see how he doesn't make any jokes about the dare, or any comments about your incident at the lake? It sounds so mechanical and vague."

"Do you think he hasn't read our letters? He only mentions the one from school." You say and Tony leans back on the couch, thoughtful.

"I don't know. It just doesn't sound like him." He says. "I wouldn't be surprised to find out that Jarvis wrote it."

"Why would Jarvis do that?"

"Because Dad hasn't spoken to us in three months." Tony retorts with irritation. "And well, you almost drowned and he didn't even bother to read about it."

"Tony..."

"No, it's fine." He grumbles, taking the letter from your hands and standing up. "Screw him." Cursed the boy in annoyance, tossing the letter into the fireplace in the room. You frowned, sighing. "We don't need him. I'll take care of you."

You were tired of this. Running a hand through your hair for a moment in frustration, you let Tony take your hands in his as he knelt in front of you next.

"I'm sorry I've been absent this while." He says surprising you. "I hated how all the adults were hiding things from us, and I did the same with you. I promise I will tell you everything from now on."

You nod in understanding, squeezing Tony's hand lightly.

"I need to tell you something too."

And you do. The whole conversation with Wanda and with Professor Fury shock Tony. And he has a frown creased in concern when you finish.

"I know it's a lot." You say. "But I'm terrified. I don't know what will happen to me if I lose Wanda, and all I can do is miss her."

"Hey, it's going to be okay." Tony says tenderly, releasing his hand to caress your cheeks and wipe away the dripping tears. "I won't let anything bad happen to you. I promise."

"What if you can't avoid it, Tony?" you retort softly, your voice whiny.

"I will." He assures you. "I will help you. We'll figure out a way to break this bond, and then you and Wanda will be safe."

You nod, deciding to believe his words. Your brother hugs you next, and you wish he is right.

//-//

Just like you, Tony was also unable to gain access to the restricted section of the library. But that is the least of your problems.

As the date of the last task approaches, you are a pile of nerves. Tony assures you that he will try to find something about ways to break magical bonds on the last trip to Hogsmeade in a local library, but you are barely listening to him, your thoughts wandering towards Wanda.

The other girl, on the other hand, continues to avoid you and your friends. Your only option is to ask Pietro about her, and he assures you that she is as upset as you are as if he is trying to make you feel better somehow. But all this information causes is a worsening of your distress. Pietro is not comfortable coming between you two, so you don't insist that he spend time with you or your friends, knowing that Wanda needs company. You also insist that Gamora and Nebula continue to spend time with the witch, but they comment that Wanda is not really sociable after the whole thing.

The rest of the school starts to notice the way the Maximoffs are no longer hanging out with you, and since everyone in the school loves a little gossip, the news that you and Wanda broke up starts to circulate very quickly.

You don't want your detention for the lake story to escalate, but it's hard to control the urge to jinx your classmates when their snarky remarks reach your ears.

"I heard they broke up because Wanda became a champion, and didn't want to be seen with a hufflepuff anymore." Said in a not so low tone, a Ravenclaw boy as you were walking ahead of them toward the Potions classroom.

"No, dude, that's not true. I heard that Wanda got pretty close to the other champion, Jean Grey, and obviously she'd go for a famous quidditch player than a nobody." Added a female voice, and you clutched the books in your hands tightly, but didn't turn around.

"Come on, the girl's a Stark." Retorted the boy. "I think Maximoff is a winner with either one."

The girl laughed lightly, and you wished you reach the classroom soon.

"I think you're right." The girl spoke up. "Maximoff has always been weird, I don't know how she got such great options."

Your attention wandered from the conversation when Mantis reached you. She went back to the dorm to get the potions book she had forgotten, and frowned at your annoyed posture when she arrived, but when she caught the words of the pair behind you, she threw them an annoyed look that made them fall silent.

"Don't pay any attention to that kind of gossip, Y/N." She asked gently and you just sighed.

"I just wish people would mind their own business." You grumble annoyed and Mantis agrees with a murmur.

Potions class was as difficult as it usually is. What surprised you was Professor Lensherr's tired appearance, but you imagined it must be because of the tournament finals that were being organized by the teachers.

When you were packing your materials, you almost knocked over the glass jar when he appeared in front of you.

"Stark, a word, please." He asked earnestly, and Mantis shot you a glance before hurrying to leave. The professor waited until the room was empty and then nodded to the door, which closed. "Wanda told me about your magic bond."

"Shit." You grumbled immediately, and Professor Erik raised his eyebrows. You cleared your throat, apologizing for cursing. "Look, sir, I don't know what else to say about it. I don't know where the bond came from, and I'm trying to find out..."

"I can help." He interrupts and you fall silent, surprised.

"Really?"

"Yes." He says straightening his posture and crossing his arms. "I obviously have more magical knowledge than you, and your nosy brother." He says and you understand that he is talking about the way Tony has been pestering the teachers to get information. "And if this bond affects Wanda, it is of particular interest to me."

You swallow dryly, nodding in understanding. You explain to him how you feel next, and Erik absorbs your words with a neutral expression.

"Interesting. I had my theories since you couldn't duel with Wanda in the second year, but since you became close, it wasn't my place to intrude.” He tells with a bit of a nostalgic face as you finish speaking. “I have a few questions, Miss Stark. I need clarification on the nature of this bond." He says with his arms still folded across his chest. "Last summer, Wanda had a cold. Did you feel anything?"

You thought about the vacation for a few seconds.

"No, sir." You reply. "I don't remember getting sick."

"I see." He says. "Tell me, have you ever had dragon pox?"

You nod in agreement.

"At how old?" The teacher asks, and you think for a moment.

"I don't know, four I think. Maybe five."

"Wanda had dragon pox when she was six." He declares, his gaze assessing you. You blink, trying to follow what he is trying to say. "It's not a very common disease in England, is it?"

"I don't think so." You mutter without understanding why the professor is looking at you like that.

"Wanda caught the disease in Sokovia, the country where she was born." He recounts. "We were on vacation and she came back sick. The last case of that disease here in England was almost a hundred years ago."

"I guess I'm unlucky then." You try to joke, and Erik almost smiles.

"The flu Wanda had last summer was not of magical origin." He adds, and you frown slightly, not knowing what to make of this information. "But dragon pox is magical in nature."

"Professor I don't..."

"Wanda broke her wrist at the age of seven." He interrupts as he uncrosses his arms, gesturing slightly. "She and Pietro were playing in the backyard, no magic."

"Okay..."

"I imagine Wanda has already talked to you about her exceptional magical abilities, Miss Stark." The professor continues. "Her visible magic, I meant. It started when she was three years old, when she was able to bring her toys into her crib and wrap them all in a magical cloud." Erik tells and you smile briefly at the image of a baby Wanda, but his expression makes you bite the inside of your cheek the next second. "I want to know how much of this you were able to experience, being on the other side of the country."

You swallow dryly, looking away and trying to think back to your childhood.

"I don't know, professor." You reply. "I was a child. Maybe Tony or dad will know something."

"Come on, isn't there anything you can tell me?" He insists. "Any specific memories, any strange dreams? Anything."

You think, and think, but none of your childhood memories seem relevant. And then you frown, remembering one.

"Actually... There was this one time I got really sick. I think I was about eight. Maybe nine, and dad took me to St.Mungus. I had a high fever, and I couldn't sleep at night with nightmares, but I don't remember what happened. They thought it might be the flu, but we never found out what it was. The next day I was better."

Erik was slightly wide-eyed and then he sighed.

"Before she came to Hogwarts, Wanda was afraid of losing control of her magic at school." He starts to tell. "I tried to calm her down, but she was very upset. She managed to convince Pietro to help her into my potions room and took an entire bottle of a brew for magical containment. Her magic seemed almost enraged, and she destroyed the greenhouse with a wave of energy. I've never seen her so out of control." He says thoughtfully, as if remembering the events. "She passed out from exhaustion, and didn't wake up until the morning. She was ten.”

"You don't think...?"

"That's exactly what I think, Miss Stark." He interrupts, "The dates match. Every time Wanda was in danger from a magical source, you were affected, because the nature of your bond with her is magical. And that was confirmed during the tournament by noticing the way you jumped into the lake during the second task. I imagine your little interaction with Professor Heimdall when Wanda was facing the dragon was about this as well?" He asks and you nod your head in confirmation. "Right. Well, that's a problem."

"I noticed." You grumble, but then realize from the professor's expression that in addition to what has been said, it seems to be a problem for another reason. "Why?"

"Regarding your safety, I mean." Explains the professor. "The last task of the tournament is going to be exceptionally challenging, and perhaps not the best of experiences for you."

You widen your eyes in anticipation.

"Professor, what will happen in the third task?"

"I can't tell you." He says. "But there will be many challenges. And Wanda may encounter difficulties, especially since she is only fifteen."

You sigh, trying to push the wave of worry down.

"I hate this tournament." You state in a mumble and Professor Erik gives a short little smile. "I hate to see Wanda in danger. If it's for the gold, she can have all mine."

Erik laughed, and you blinked in surprise at the sound.

"Believe me, I dislike this competition as much as you do." He says. "There is no pleasure in seeing Wanda in danger for something as superficial as eternal glory. But the goblet chose her, and she would have suffered a magical penalty if she didn't obey the contract. It was a difficult decision, but it was the best for her."

You mutter in understanding and the teacher is thoughtful for a few minutes.

"I would recommend you not watch the competition so you don't get so nervous, but clearly distance doesn't matter for the bond." He remarks. "I need more information about how all this works. I want to run some tests with you two."

You frown slightly, but before you can ask what kind of tests, the teacher speaks again.

"That will need to wait, of course. With the competition and the final exams, I understand that you are experiencing enough stress and I don't want to cause any more suffering." He explains. "Over the vacations, perhaps I can write to your father. It's time to see old friends again after all."

You are surprised that the professor makes this mention, but you don't bother to comment. He clears his throat, and signals that this is all. You thank him as you get up and then leave the room.

//-//

When the day of the last task of the tournament finally arrived, the whole school was in a joint peak of excitement.

You could hardly sleep, strange nightmares throughout your entire night combined with the anxiety at the pit of your stomach made you wake up several times during your sleep. In the morning you decided to ignore the buzz around the hallways about the task and the possible winner, and joined your friends for breakfast.

You wanted to talk to Wanda, but you didn't see her at the Slytherin table, and Gamora tried to cheer you up with news about a band you liked playing in London next month, but you could barely force a smile, feeling tired and irritated.

You heard a group of Gryffindors commenting excitedly that the occultation spell had been removed from the quidditch field, and that the gates of something that had been conjured for the last task were already visible, but before you could try to hear what they were saying, the boys were already leaving the hall and Pietro came to talk to you.

"Hey, good morning, how are you?" he asked curiously, taking a seat across from you at the table.

"Not well, if you want to know." You grumbled dejectedly, your fingers lazily stroking the piece of bread on your plate. "What about you?"

"Worried." He replied shrugging his shoulders with a small corner smile. "But I'm optimistic. Wanda is confident, and thinks she can win. And I'm trusting that everything will end well."

The mention of Wanda makes you sigh slightly and lean your chin on your arm on the table, looking at the boy in front of you.

"I miss her, Pietro." You confess upset and ignore the way Gamora and Nebula who are sitting next to the boy look at you with pity, but appreciate how Mantis strokes your back lightly. "She won't talk to me, and I can't blame her or even be mad at her."

"Wanda asked for some time, didn't she?" he asked slightly curious and you grumbled in agreement. "Well, I guess you have the right to ask the same."

You frown in confusion, and Pietro has a little smile as he pours himself some juice.

"What do you mean?" You ask.

"Ask her for, I don't know, five minutes of attention?" He suggests. "Five minutes to at least give her good luck. You look miserable, and I hate to see you like this."

You sigh, thinking about the idea. And then you smile.

"Thanks, P." You say as you raise your head.

"No problem." He says. "You can try now, Wanda should be on the lower floors. She wanted to talk to dad before the task."

You nodded in understanding and then said you would meet your friends outside.

It didn't take long for you to find Wanda. The girl was walking up the stairs as you were coming down, and well, she had no choice but to look at you.

You felt your heart race to have her looking directly at you after so long, but you ignored the sensation as you walked down the steps and stopped in front of her. Wanda swallowed dryly, but held her gaze.

"Hey." You greeted half breathlessly, smiling slightly.

"What do you want?" she asked uncomfortably, her gaze serious. You ignored the seriousness of her words.

"Talk to you."

"I already said I need time."

"I know." You said without hesitation. "But I also have the right to talk. Can you give me five minutes?"

Wanda looked away, and then at her feet. She sighed and nodded, and you waited for her to look at you again before speaking.

"I miss you, Wanda." You confessed and watched Wanda swallow dryly, her eyes filling with tears as she looked away. "And I wanted to wish you good luck in the last task."

Wanda sighed faintly, nodding in understanding, her gaze on the stairs. You raised your finger to her chin, gently turning her face so that she was looking at you. Wanda closed her eyes as you fitted your hand to her cheeks, your thumb stroking her skin tenderly as she leaned into the touch.

Her hand moved up to your forearm the next moment, squeezing before moving your hand away from her face as she pushed your arm away gently.

You sighed, ignoring the feeling in your stomach and the urge to kiss and touch her again.

"Please don't do that." She whispered. "Don't touch me as if you love me as much as I love you."

You gasped, widening your eyes at the confession. But before you could add anything else, footsteps approached and Erik was coming up the stairs behind Wanda. The girl took a step back, wiping her eyes quickly.

"Stark." The professor greeted politely. You had a hard time disguising how much Wanda's words stirred in you. "Wanda, you'd better hurry up for breakfast. The task will start soon."

"Yes, dad." Wanda agrees and she doesn't look at you as she leaves. Erik nods politely and you stand on the steps for long minutes, your heart racing in your chest.

Wanda loves you. And you can't be with her.

Ignoring your broken heart, you turn and walk back into the hall, following the crowd of students who are making their way to the site of the last assignment.

//-//

The third task was a maze full of magical trials.

You gasped as you reached the sight of the large grass ones that were raised at the entrance to the quidditch field and the matched grass gates.

The crowd of students spilled out onto the bleachers set up in front of the maze, and you began to look around for your friends, ignoring the urge to run to Wanda and tell her you loved her back, not wanting to upset her before the task.

When the crowd was fully seated in the stands, and some students were already raising their cheering posters in the air, you watched the tournament judges move along with the faculty as Agatha took her place to announce the start of the competition.

"Hey, it's going to be okay." Gamora whispered to you as the director made the announcements. "I bet Wanda will be back before you can miss her."

You try to smile, your stomach turning in nervousness.

Watching the field below, you see the champions positioning themselves at the entrance.

Jean Grey had the highest score, so she entered first. The Durmstrang students cheering loudly until she disappeared into the maze.

Soon after, Wanda entered. The Slytherin people conjured a serpent of artifice through the air that disappeared as soon as she walked into the maze.

And then Maria Hill last, the Beaubatox crowd clapping their feet until she entered.

Just like the second task, all that was left for the crowd to do was wait once the champions entered. So as soon as the gate closed, the students started talking animatedly among themselves, in addition to the betting chart that began to circulate.

You also noticed that the reporters of the Daily Prophet were asking the cheering people in the front row about the bets for the winners.

Trying to distract yourself from the sense of worry that had taken over you most likely linked to the fact that Wanda was inside a place dangerous enough to kill her, you tried to engage in some of the conversation with your friends.

//-//

With thirty minutes to go, a movement in the field below caught your attention.

"Y/N, isn't that your father?" Gamora asked poking you in the ribs to call you, but you were already looking down.

Your father was not alone. There were four other witches with him that you had never seen before, but judging by their capes, they were aurors from the ministry, as they were dressed exactly like the witches that day in the cup.

There was a sudden movement among the teachers, and then the aurors were opening the gate to the maze and Headmistress Harkness was talking to the judges, all looking extremely worried. The crowd was buzzing, and it didn't take long for the comments to reach you.

"They're saying they're going to cancel the test!" Told a Ravenclaw girl who had just leaned forward to listen to her classmates, and then he turned and said to you and Gamora, making you both widen your eyes. You looked around next, in time to catch Tony coming down the bleachers from the side until he reached your father.

"What do you think happened?" Gamora asked you.

"I don't know, but it doesn't look good." You replied already moving to leave in Tony's direction. Gamora and Nebula looked at you, but you just signaled for them to wait up there.

When you reached Tony and your father, they seemed to be arguing.

"You didn't think to send at least a letter?" Tony squawked angrily, but your father was distracted, looking around and especially back at the entrance to the maze.

"I can't talk now, Tony, please." The man asked. He gave you a short smile as you approached, and Bucky and Steve joined you all next.

"Dad, what's going on?" You asked, but before your father could say anything, the principal was asking the students to return to the castle and the crowd erupted in booing.

The tournament judges were commenting quietly among themselves, and you frowned when Professor Erik approached and whispered something in your father's ear, who made a worried frown.

"Go back to the castle." Your father ordered looking at you and Tony, but you didn't move and Tony pushed your father's hand away.

They began to argue, but you felt your whole body shiver all at once, and you looked back, thinking that someone had called your name.

Professor Erik looked at you curiously, but before he could do anything, you ran past him and into the maze.

//-//

Gasping for breath from the run, you blinked in confusion as you stopped at a crossroads. Your head was spinning slightly, and you looked around.

The maze was dark, and the walls were high and shadowed the path. You noticed that the noise of the crowd was muffled from the inside.

Taking the left path, you were not fully conscious, following only the magnetic energy that seemed to pull you around the correct path.

Your wand was raised to your hand, an illumination spell that you don't remember conjuring. You frowned slightly when you noticed another light, and then Maria Hill was standing in front of you.

"Who are you?" she asked, but you didn't answer, walking past her in a mechanical manner. The girl looked at you with confusion. "Girl, can you hear me?"

"Wanda." You whispered without stopping your walk. Maria hesitated but then began to follow you through the labyrinth.

"Are you hexed?" She asked curiously but got no answer. When she tried to hold you by the shoulders, you pushed her to the ground. "Hey, no need for that!"

You didn't answer and Maria sighed in irritation as she stood up, running lightly to catch up with you as you turned the corner.

The tugging on your abdomen began to get stronger, and then you reached the center of the maze.

"Wow, you found the center." Maria commented in surprise next to you. "But where's the cup?"

You looked around confused, feeling the pain in your head increase.

And then noises of footsteps and shouting became closer and a moment later your father and Professor Erik entered the center through one of the trails.

"Honey!" Your father exclaimed worriedly, but before he could reach you, you fell to your knees, a shrill cry of pain escaping your throat.

Your vision blurred and you had another vision.

It was the graveyard from your dream, but now much clearer than before. You were attached to something, and there was a tall wizard standing in front of you.

The man turned around and you could see his red eyes staring at you with hatred.

"Erik, what is happening to her?" You heard your father's voice sound muffled by the ringing in your ear. You were trying to breathe normally, lying on the grass with your hands on your head.

"Look out, Howard!" It was Professor Erik's voice, but you didn't have the strength to look up.

"Protego!" Someone shouted the incantation next to you, maybe it was Maria but you can't open your eyes to see.

The pain in your head seemed to subside slightly and you forced your gaze upward, not understanding what was happening.

There were two bright lights in front of you. The image was not very clear because of the pain, but you struggled to understand what you were witnessing.

A wizard you didn't know was exchanging spells with Professor Erik. And Bucky was standing next to him, his robotic movements exactly matching those of the mysterious sorcerer. Your father was dueling with the younger one.

The unknown wizard let out an angry grunt, and said something in a language you didn't recognize, and then a green light shot out of Bucky's wand and hit your father in the chest, knocking him backwards.

"Stupefy!" Shouted a female voice from your side, and the spell hit Bucky squarely.

You whimpered in pain again, and could stare no longer.

A few minutes passed before you gasped back to consciousness, or perhaps it was hours. Your tears wet your shirt, and you coughed helplessly.

You raised your eyes to a scene that you didn't understand at first.

There were three people lying on the ground. A man you had never seen before, Bucky and your father, and Professor Erik was kneeling beside the last.

You blinked in confusion and then Tony came running out of the other opening and he widened his eyes when he noticed father.

"Hey, can you stand?" it was Jean Grey beside you. Maria Hill was holding you in her other arm, and you blinked in confusion at both of them.

"Where am I?" you grumbled, and then looked forward again. Tony ran up to your father, and you widened your eyes.

"Dad?" Tony asked with his face wet with tears. "Dad? Wake up!

"Stark..." Erik started as he touched the boy's shoulder, but your brother didn't look at him as he pushed his hand away.

You forced yourself to get up and with the help of the girls you succeeded. You took two steps and then fell to your knees again, understanding what had happened.

You had just witnessed your father being murdered.

//-//

The maze was dismantled from the inside out.

The rest of the teachers moved to remove the incantations and the maze disappeared around you, while you and Tony were kneeling beside the body of your father.

Soon there were reporters trying to reach the center, but Principal Harkness ordered them to stay away.

The aurors from the ministry were also there and they conjured a containment spell around the man who dueled the professor.

"We need to get the children out of here, Harkness." You heard someone say, but their gaze was on your lap, the hand you entwined with your father's.

"We don't know how many of them then here." Another witch said.

"Darlings, let's go inside, okay?" Professor Erik asked you. You were too tired to contradict, but Tony refused.

He said something about responsibility, and they did not contradict him again. You were led out of the maze, however, and the place where the entrance was located was empty.

The reporters who had been thrown out approached you and the ministry's auror immediately as soon as they saw you two, and you blinked at the flashes of the cameras.

"Can you tell us what happened inside the maze Miss Stark?"

"How are you and your brother going to take care of the fortune now that you are Howard's heirs?"

The lack of sensitivity made your stomach turn, but you were too tired to cry.

The auror who was with you said something to keep the reporters away, and then you were taken back to the castle.

"Hey, kid, are you still with me?" The lady asked as she knelt in front of you, her expression concerned.

You sighed, feeling an urgency to close your eyes. You think she called you again before you blacked out.

//-//

When you woke up, it was warm. And when you realized that you were in the infirmary, it took you a few moments to remember everything that had happened. As you did so, you began to cry. Finally understanding that your father was dead.

Your pillow got wet, but you didn't care, finding it hard to see past the tears.

"Hey." It was Tony, looking extremely tired, standing at your bedside. You couldn't tell if he was already there when you woke up, or if he had entered the infirmary at that moment, but you didn't ask. He lay down on the bed with you next, and hugged you.

You know that he was crying too, even though you didn't look at him.

You eventually fell asleep between sobs, and when you woke up again, you were feeling better physically.

Tony was standing in the doorway of the infirmary, talking to the Auror who brought you in. When she noticed you looking, she nodded slightly to Tony and he looked at you, forcing a smile.

The two wizards walked over to you next, and you sat down on the bed.

"Hey, are you feeling better?" Tony asked and you shrugged. "Carol wants to ask you some questions."

You looked away from Tony to the woman, and she looked slightly embarrassed to have to question you after a situation like this, but she did it anyway.

"My name is Carol Danvers, Miss Stark." She introduced herself first. "I am an auror from the ministry of magic. I brought you to the infirmary, can you remember this?"

You nodded in agreement.

"I need to tell you some things, and then I'll ask you about what happened in the maze, okay?" She asked and waited for you to confirm before she started talking.

Carol explained to you how the dark wizard Korvac used polyjuice potion to disguise himself as Professor Fury all year long, and infiltrate the tournament organization. The real Fury was a family friend of the auror and was able to warn her in some way that she didn't tell you, and then the aurors used flu powder to get to Hogwarts. Your father was still an auror in secret to the ministry, and so he also joined the operation group.

When the Aurors arrived, however, Korvac had already entered the maze and they went after him. Neither your father nor the professor were supposed to enter the maze, but when you did, your brother followed, and consequently Steve and Bucky did the same. Your father and the professor went after, but the maze was enchanted to make everyone get lost, and that's exactly what happened. While you were guided by your connection to Wanda, everyone else was lost all around.

Carol told you that Korvac had found Bucky and used the Imperio curse to control him, so he was fighting on behalf of the dark wizard against both your father and your teacher. With Jean Grey's intervention, Bucky was knocked out and Professor Erik hit Korvac, but it was too late.

Everyone eventually found themselves in the middle and the maze was dismantled. Tony had already given his statement to the ministry, and Korvac was sent to Azkaban.

"Your brother told me that you have some kind of magical bond with one of the champions and that's why you went into the maze right?" Carol asked as you wiped away your tears. You sniffled slightly as you confirmed. "Miss Maximoff won the competition and she has also talked to my colleagues about what she saw in the cup portal."

"W-what?" you questioned with confusion.

Carol sighed slightly and then her posture changed. She looked back for a minute.

"Look, I trusted your father. He knew there was corruption in the ministry, and he warned me about it when he recommended me to work with him." She began as if telling a secret. "Let's keep that between us for now. I don't know who I can trust in that department."

Carol told about how the triwizard cup was bewitched to become a portal key, most likely by Korvac. She repeated Wanda's words to you, saying that the girl had ended up in a graveyard with the remnants of Mephisto's followers in place. Wanda also said that Mephisto himself had returned and that they faced each other. She managed to escape by touching the cup again.

What made you angry was knowing that the minister didn't believe any of her words, and refused to acknowledge Mephisto's return. The whole thing would be treated as a trial of the tournament that got out of hand, and Korvac, who had been captured, would be accused of all the crimes.

Carol didn't seem happy with the minister's decision either.

"I have nothing to say but tell the minister to go fuck himself, Carol." You informed irritated and the blonde smiled at you.

"You inherited your father's attitude." She comments and you think the intention is good, but it makes your heart ache. "I will close your statement then. Thank you very much for your time, Miss Stark."

You nod and Carol hesitates. She sighs lightly and touches your brother on the shoulder and your outstretched hand on the bed.

"I used to be friends with your father." She says. "Don't think you are alone, children. You have more family than you can imagine. And you can contact me if you need anything."

Carol smiles and walks away with a nod. You and Tony exchange a slightly surprised look. Tony sighs and sits down next to you on the bed. You say nothing, but you both know that this should be one more among your father's many secrets.

//-//

Nurse Cho released you from the infirmary that same afternoon.

Aside from the mental exhaustion, you were perfectly healthy.

Your friends, with the exception of the Maximoff twins, approach you in the dormitory. They hug you together, mourning the death of your father. You want to say that you feel a little better about this, but that is not true.

As you are seen in the corridors, students and professors stop you to say "my sympathies", and you answer them in a polite way. You can also hear the gossip after all.

Wanda did not obey the order of the minister of magic, and when the journalists of the Daily Prophet asked her about the tournament, she told her version. Nobody bought her story, and she was branded a liar after the minister denied the return of the dark wizard.

Professor Erik also greeted you in the hallways, and Pietro was with him. The boy hugged you tight, and you held back your tears.

"Stark, my home is always open to you and your brother." Erik said as his hand was on your shoulder. "I just want you to know that."

You nodded in understanding and then walked toward the communal hall intending to organize your belongings, since the school year would end that week.

//-//

On your last day at Hogwarts, you finally talked to Wanda.

Because your nightmares had become more frequent than ever, you had spent the last days at school without sleeping properly, and on the last night you gave up sleeping and decided to go to the kitchens.

You were in the empty halls when you heard the familiar noise of Drax monitoring the castle and stumbled to the first door you found, trying to avoid being seen.

As you waited for the hissing noise to become distant, you looked back and gasped in surprise.

There was a girl sitting on the floor and it took you a few seconds to realize that it was Wanda.

"What are you doing here?" You asked curiously, and your voice startled her. She stood up quickly, looking at you in surprise.

"Shit, you scared the hell out of me!" She complained and you frowned slightly as you realized she was crying, but Wanda quickly wiped her face.

Only at that moment did you notice the large antique mirror behind her. On the metal rim was a Latin phrase that you didn't understand.

Biting the inside of your cheeks, you looked away to the floor.

"Sorry to bother you, I couldn't sleep." You mumbled clumsily and Wanda shifted the weight of her feet before clearing her throat.

"Do you wanna stay?"

You raised your head in surprise, but then nodded in agreement.

Walking up to the girl, you stopped about four steps away from her, not knowing exactly what to do next.

"Are you going to tell me what you were doing here?" You asked again, and Wanda bit her lips before turning toward the mirror.

"I found this place in second grade." She counters. "That's the Mirror of Erised."

"I am supposed to know what that means?" You ask with mild irony causing Wanda to smile slightly.

"We studied that in fourth grade, so yes." She retorts.

"I haven't been busy this year, no time for books, if you know what I mean." You say with a smile and Wanda laughs softly. You stare at the mirror in front of you, but there is nothing special about it. It seems to reflect you and Wanda just like any other. "What does this mirror do anyway?"

Wanda turns her face to you, and you want to ignore the nervous feeling that settles on the edge of your stomach, but to no avail.

"Look closer." She says, and her gaze lingers on you for a moment before she takes a step to the side. You turn your face to the mirror again, and then step forward.

It takes a second for the image to change. It is you in the reflection, but you are not alone. Your father is standing beside you, smiling contently. You frown in confusion, gasping slightly at his sudden appearance.

Ignoring the lump in your throat, you continue to stare. The image trembles slightly, and you try to understand what the mirror is telling you. Nothing looks much different except the image of your father, but then you notice the wedding ring in your reflection.

You look down at your hand for a moment and then back at the reflection. Your image copies the movement with delay and you squeeze your eyes shut to read the letters on the ring.

Your face heats up as you read Wanda's name and you take a step back. The image becomes fainter, but doesn't disappear.

"What do you see?" Wanda asks curiously from beside you, and you startle, turning your head to her quickly.

"M-my father." You answer at the same moment, biting your tongue to make sure you don't say anything else. Wanda's expression tumbles, and she looks down at her feet. You swallow dryly.

"I'm sorry, y/n. I really am." She whispers, and you look away. There is something that is bothering you as much as your father's death, and it is the distance that seems to exist between you and Wanda now.

"Thank you." You mumble the response you have learned to give whenever someone says that to you. "W-what do you see in the mirror?" You ask next, trying to change the subject from you. Wanda looks surprised at the question and even in the low lighting, you notice the slight redness in her cheeks.

"My mother." She answers without looking at you. "And... myself. No magic. Just me and her, and Pietro and papa at a distance. We look happy and normal."

It is the most intimate confession Wanda has ever made to you. You want to caress her face, hug her and thank her for her trust, but you just nod in agreement, swallowing her words and pushing the desire to touch down.

"Have you been here many times?" You ask after a moment and Wanda sighs before confirming. "You never told me about this place before."

"I never told anyone." She retorts without sounding angry, just slightly weary. "I guess I wanted it to be something just mine."

"I understand." You comment as you look into the mirror again, the image of your reflection and Wanda's now visible. "A private space for you to visit your mother."

Wanda murmurs in agreement, and you think she won't say anything else, but she does.

"I need to tell you something."

You turn your head toward Wanda's direction, but when she turns her body toward you, she keeps her gaze on the floor.

"About the day of the task." She says. "About Mephisto."

"Okay." You mumble as you wait. Wanda takes a deep breath.

"I guess you've heard from the whole school that I fought with him." She starts with a sad smile, and you nod in agreement. "Well, there's a reason he couldn't kill me."

You frown with confusion.

"Right...why?"

"It’s better if i show you." She takes a deep breath, raising her hands between you. "Can I?" she asks, and you notice the red magic escaping her fingers.

"You can do that?" You ask impressed and Wanda nods with a shy smile. When you consent, she raises her fingers to your forehead and then you have another vision.

You see the moment when Wanda was teleported into the graveyard, and it's as if you're seeing everything through her eyes.

The moment when a hooded wizard appeared and locked Wanda in a spell against one of the tombstones. You watched the wizard walk to the center of the graveyard and conjure a rune on the ground that you didn't recognize. He recited a few words and then cast an incantation in the sky. The mark of a hydra.

Walking back to the rune, the sorcerer deposited a necklace on the ground. With a dagger he took from his pocket, he recited an incantation in a language you didn't recognize, and cut his own palm. When the blood fell on the necklace, Wanda gasped in pain.

The ground around the rune began to open up and a man crawled out of the earth. You imagined it was a necromancy ritual and they were resurrecting someone. You didn't have to ask to know that it was Mephisto.

When the wizard stood up completely, he laughed darkly. The man who helped him bowed.

"Master, you live!" Celebrated the wizard. Mephisto approached, a gentle flick of his wand wiped all the dirt from his robes, and you could see the metallic Hydra strolling along the entire length of his robes, as if getting used to being awake again.

"All thanks to you, John." Mephisto said his deep voice echoing through the room. "Your loyalty will be rewarded, my friend."

"Thank you, master." Said the man without raising his head. Mephisto touched his hood, pulling it back, and you looked at the kneeling figure. He was a man of about thirty, his blond hair was long and dirty. There was a deep scar across his cheek to the extent of his right eye, which was closed.

Mephisto raised his wand toward the young man's face, and a silver spell escaped from the tip along the scar. The mark didn't disappear, but when he opened his eye, you noticed the metallic glow of the reddish iris.

"Be my eyes again, John Walker." Mephisto commanded and the boy thanked him again. He continued kneeling as Mephisto turned toward Wanda, who was still attached to the tombstone. "I almost forgot about my guest of honor."

"Who are you?" Wanda asked angrily, you could almost feel her fear.

Mephisto smiled devilishly, ignoring the question as he took a deep breath. He raised his wand high and the Hydra's mark seemed to glow even brighter.

In the following moments, shadows began to appear in the sky, and only when the first one of them landed on the ground that you understood that they were wizards appearing.

There were at least eight of them, but because of their position, Wanda couldn't see them all. The masked witches remained static, waiting for their companions. Mephisto murmured softly, and after a moment without any movement in the sky, he sighed.

"It is only at our worst that we see who is really loyal to us." He comments somberly, before opening his arms to the crowd. "Friends! It's so good to see you all again, finally. So many years!"

Mephisto's smile doesn't reach his eyes, and then the wizards are kneeling, and recite together an "It is an honor, master." Mephisto laughs lightly, lowering his arms.

"Look at you folks." He comments with a psychotic look on his face. "You're not even ashamed that you abandoned me." He charges, but no one speaks up. Mephisto sighs impatiently. "No one has anything to say? What a disappointment."

"Master..." Started a wizard on the edge and then Mephisto raised his fist toward him hanging him in the air with his magic. Wanda's eyes widened, but the wizard let go just before the one in the air stopped struggling. As the wizard coughed to try to breathe again, Mephisto pushed his long hair out of the front of his face.

"I don't want your hollow apologies, Zemo." He says. "Nothing will erase the betrayal of all of you, cowards."

No one makes any mention of interrupting the speech, and Mephisto puts his cloak away momentarily.

"But a new era begins, and we need to leave the past behind." Says the mage. "I finally have my treasure where I wanted it, and nothing will stop me from reaching my power again."

Mephisto turns to Wanda now, a mental look on his face. The wizards look at her too.

"Master, is this...?" One of the masked men begins, and Mephisto interrupts with a devilish grin.

"Yes, my friend!" He says. "The Scarlet Witch."

The group loosely shares a buzz of excited excitement, but falls silent the next moment. Wanda wriggles uncomfortably against the spell.

"What is it, my dear?" Mephisto asks as he watches her struggle. "Is it tight? Try a coffin underground. I guarantee the discomfort is greater."

The comment makes Wanda clench her jaw as the group lets out a chuckle.

"I'm not who you say I am." Wanda retorts with irritation and Mephisto lets out a laugh approaching. You wish you could enter the vision to get him away from Wanda.

"Your name is Wanda Maximoff." He says looking her straight in the eye. "You were born in 1989 in a dirty muggle neighborhood of Sokovia. And you are a scarlet witch by birth." He narrates and then his gaze changes to malice. "And you belong to me."

"Fuck you."

Wanda's rude response makes Mephisto smile.

"Perhaps you, my dear friends, were not aware of what really happened that night fifteen years ago." Mephisto says as he turns to the group again. "I can only imagine the lies the ministry of magic must have told the world, making sure to tell I was defeated by some of their pathetic aurors."

The group exchanges surprised looks and Mephisto laughs, walking ahead.

"I think everyone has a right to know what really happened that day, don't you, my dear?" He asks Wanda, and then lets out a wry laugh. "Oh, I forgot that you were just a filthy brat back then. I'd better tell them instead."

Wanda struggles against the grip again and Mephisto raises his wand toward her, causing the spell to tighten more and Wanda to grumble in pain.

"Hold still and listen to the story, little brat." He commands. "Didn't the blood traitor teach you manners?"

You know Mephisto is talking about Wanda's father, but the girl doesn't respond to the teasing.

"Do you remember how well everything was going for us, my friends?" Begins the wizard, and he waits for the group to agree before speaking again. "I should have known that the cursed muggles in your community would bring more trouble than I expected."

Mephisto looks slightly nostalgic, but no one is going to interrupt him. He gives a wry laugh before continuing.

"You know that I was seeking the power of a scarlet sorceress for myself. And well, with all the commotion in the ministry, I decided to capture the child without being accompanied by any of you." He says. "I was always the most powerful, but now that I look back, a companion would have prevented so much delay."

When Wanda makes mention of fighting again, Mephisto strengthens the spell.

"I went to take what was rightfully mine in that muggle pigsty that is Sokovia, and I never expected that a filthy muggle would be able to stop me." He tells you and you notice Wanda's interest in the words, curious to know what he was talking about. "Maybe the traitor lied and she had some witch lineage. We'll never know, since I killed her." He comments humorously. "Contextualizing my friends, I went up to the second floor to get the child of prophecy, and I ended up running into two of them."

Mephisto counters with a wry laugh.

"Crazy isn't it?" He says. "But of course it was easy to figure out who the right baby was, since the sorceress' power emanated in the child's aura. I had no function for the other one so I decided to discard it."

Wanda's eyes widen at the confession. Mephisto was going to kill Pietro. She gasps slightly, feeling her anger rising.

"But the muggle pig begged for mercy." He continues. "You know very well how much I hate muggles, but if she had stood in the corner as I told her to do, I would have done no harm. But of course she had to throw herself in front of the infant, become a pathetic martyr."

The group laughs at the narration and you feel like vomiting. Mephisto stared at his own wand for a few seconds.

"I should have realized the sacrificial bond that was created, but I did not expect such a thing from a muggle." He counters somberly, sounding bitter. "When I skipped over her body and repeated the curse, it came straight back to me."

The group let out a chorus of surprise, but Mephisto just smiled.

"Don't worry, friends. I'm here after all." He says. "But a death curse is powerful enough to injure a body. And so I needed to escape." He counters as he walks around. "I would return for the girl as soon as I could restore myself, but where there is one blood traitor there is always another."

The group listened to the story intently and you swallowed dryly, trying to remember all the details.

"The traitor Stark and that muggle slut he called his wife were waiting for me downstairs." Mephisto counters and you hold your breath. "I knew that in my condition I couldn't stand up to an auror like Stark, but he could be useful to me. It was the perfect opportunity to have someone look after my belongings."

Mephisto sighed lightly.

"I think muggles must have some sort of self-sabotaging lifestyles about throwing themselves in front of spells, folks." He mocked causing the group to exchange confused looks. "I aimed at Stark, commanding him to protect what was mine, but it was the muggle who received the enchantment." He counters and you gasp in surprise. "Stark was furious of course, but I used the moments he spent assisting his wife to apparate."

Mephisto's expression was no longer content.

"My body couldn't handle the power of the apparatation, obviously." He counters. "After the curse, it began to betray me. I was on the brink of death for months, until I finally succumbed. My consciousness shallowed, waiting patiently for my faithful followers to find me. And here we are."

The group lets out a small exclamation and Mephisto forces a smile, straightening his posture.

"But that's in the past, of course." He says. "My sorceress is here for me, and I can regain my full power now."

Wanda swallowed dryly as she watched Mephisto approach. The wizard made a motion with his wand and the grip around her neck shortened slightly.

"I never had any use for the witch's receptacle." He says raising his wand to Wanda, you held your breath. "It's nothing personal, dear. At least you'll meet that pig of a mother of yours in hell."

The green incantation comes out of the small wood next, but never reaches Wanda. A yellow energy bumps into the magic and deflects it almost hitting one of the wizards in the circle. The group moves in fright and Mephisto has a psychotic but surprised look on his face.

"The protective spell... How?" he asks, stepping forward. “The spell killed the muggle, I saw her body! How is it still there?” He angrily asks .

His followers look as surprised as he is, and Mephisto assumes an angry expression. He raises his wand again, and even without saying anything, the emerald incantation escapes and the same thing as before happens. Distracted in his frustration, he doesn't notice that with each attempt, the spell binding Wanda grows weaker, until the fourth time he tries to curse the girl, the golden light explodes in the air, ricocheting light startling all the wizards in the circle, as Wanda falls to her knees, free.

The second of shock from the group is enough for Wanda to cause a wave of energy with her powers that kept the wizards away as she reaches for the cup at her feet, teleporting back to the school.

You stumble out of the memory, your eyes watering.

Wanda looks at you, but you turn away feeling overwhelmed by the amount of information.

"W-what was that?" You gasp taking another step back.

"I'm sorry if that was too much." She hastens to say. "I-I needed to tell you. About your mother."

You wipe away the tears, moving further away.

"I can't do this." You grumble. "Not now. M-my father just died, Wanda. I can't. I'm sorry."

The words are a little disjointed, but Wanda understands. She doesn't stop you when you rush to leave the room.

//-//

Coming home is much more difficult than any other time.

The ride on the Hogwarts express is longer than ever, but you don't mind, wanting to avoid the moment when you and Tony will set foot home without your father.

Jarvis picks the four of you up at the station, and you are grateful that Gamora lets you eat all her candy left over from the trip.

The whole feeling of stepping into the house and looking around and seeing your father's objects all around is oppressive, but you try to get used to it. You think the conversation with Tony about your mother can wait.

//-//

Tag list ( let me know if you want to be tagged or removed idk haha) @mionemymind / @abimess / @stephanieromanoff / @yourtaletotell / @tomy5girls / @justagaypanicking / @thegayw1tch / @idek-5 // @myperfectlovepoem // @helloalycia // @ENSORCELLME // @AIMEZVOUSBRAHMS @imapotatao / @aimezvousbrahms/ @ensorcellme/ @helloalycia // @ichala || @madamevirgo

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x reader #wanda maximoff #wanda x you #wandaxreader #wandaxyou #wanda maximoff x you #wandamaximoffxreader #wanda x yn #marvel imagines #avengers imagines #avengers #The Scarlet Witch Prophecy

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pen-observing · 3 years

Text

request: baker mc with barbatos. + how you came to know and bicker with the man that looks like love.

MASTERLIST

People find joy in doing the things that they love and, right now, your joy is waking up earlier to see the sun’s rays against the counter of the bakery. They’re so beautiful to bask in and so rewarding once you remember all that it took just to be able to come into such a place. It takes real work.

However, the sun’s rays on this particular morning touch something else. They shine upon a sleek black envelope that was placed right in the middle of your counter.

How did it get here? You’ve always locked your door out of responsibility. Surely nobody managed to break in or something similar? Everything looks in order and nothing is stolen. With this, there is simply no reason for you not to open the little ‘gift’ that was there. Right?

Being a famous baker meant that sometimes you did receive letters but never in such a manner or such a style. They were usually in pastel envelopes; written by little kids with lots of doodles, sprayed with some overwhelming floral scent. And, they were charming indeed but this was allure inside of mystery.

You sit down at the table close to the window and open the envelope carefully. Sometimes you think that anyone who works in your business and actually manages to succeed has to have some childlike innocence. When kids are the only ones writing you such letters it makes sense.

You lay the delicate piece of paper and start to read.

Allow this letter not to alarm you in the slightest. I have come to notice some others on your counter a few days ago and deemed this to be the best way to approach you with an inquiry. Please, read it completely before you make your final judgement. Do you happen to believe in the afterlife? Do you happen to be religious yourself? Even if the answer to these two questions is a resounding no (which I have no way of knowing, I assure you) - please consider this offer. You have been chosen as someone who can help create a bigger order amongst the three realms. We, my young Master in particular, believes in the power that can bring about a more harmonious coexistence. We have already had humans come to our domain but expansions have started because of that previous success. I hope this manages to assuage your initial feelings and any possible fear you might have. We are demons, I must say. I believe there is no use in lying or manipulating you because we are approaching you with a noble idea and goal that you can help come to fruition. We are inviting humans that are experts in their fields to teach us even more and you have been chosen as one of them. If you hold any interest, please proceed to sign your name at the bottom right of this paper. If, however, you are not interested or are afraid – please place it back inside the envelope and it will automatically become ash. Discard it carefully. I urge you not to get hurt.

Now you wish that this letter was full of doodles with a cupcake in the middle of the sun. Who was pulling such a prank? Was this a lousy attempt of the baker 2 streets down to intimidate you for the upcoming cake contest? You have to give him credit for his imagination at least.

Who does he think he is to challenge you? Did he assume you would be afraid? Perhaps, you always were a bit too spiteful for your own good. And with that spite growing – you signed your name at the bottom right.

No need for fire and ash. No need to be scared of anything that this foolish letter stated. Right?

“I would like to extend my outmost thanks for signing the letter.”

What? What was that voice? Fucking hell, how big is the joke the other baker is playing? You will be sure to leave him a 2 star review because only his cookies were decent but all you can do right now is turn around to the direction of the deep voice.

10 steps behind you, and next to your entrance door, stands a man that reminds you of the moon. He has perfect posture and an overwhelming presence. He holds a hand over his chest and looks at you with eyes that cause reminiscence – you always wanted to get lost in such a magical sea.

He is smiling at you but once he notices the shocked expression, he stops and raises one eyebrow. You’re both quiet. Well, this certainly is not that annoying baker. So, maybe, perhaps, possibly, in some way: the letter was not a joke?

“Please don’t tell me you did the same impulsive thing as the human that is a writer. Did you, by any chance, sign this letter thinking it was a joke?”

Obviously, you fucking did. I mean come on?? Three realms?? Demons?? Who would believe such a thing? Really, your spite got the best of you.

“You are not answering and I suppose that much is an answer in itself. Before you express a desire to cancel it out, I have to let you know; that is a legally binding contract and if you try to break it the punishment will be severe. When I say legally binding, I mean by the laws of hell itself. But, do not be alarmed. Please.”

The personification of the moon asks if sitting at the table would be okay and begins to explain to you all of the things in detail. He does it with clear words and you can’t help but believe that this idea seems promising. And this man, while cold and collected, does not seem like a threat.

Truthfully, you have achieved such a big success already. Baking is art and as an artist it was always the main goal. Learn more. Consider yourself a student as long as you live. Be sure to take any opportunity because it means growth. After all, you’ve gotten this far using those ideals. Wouldn’t it be a shame to throw them away now?

“And rest assured. You will be completely safe in the Devildom. I have been personally tasked with assuring your safety.”

You’ve come to learn that his name was Barbatos – meaning philosopher in some old book you’ve read. It is so odd that someone new seems so dependable. Because of this you ask him the question any sane person would.

“Would you like a cupcake?”

Yes, that indeed is the question any sane person would ask in your field. You already know there is no way to back out of this; not unless you wish to endanger your life. So, why not start an adventure if you already must?

You give Barbatos a cupcake and turn the sign to closed before going back behind the counter. The sign won’t change in the following year until you are free from the damned contract. You get overwhelmed with the realization that the sun’s rays will seep in but have nobody to actually greet once you leave. You realize how much you are going to miss this place. How are you supposed to leave it behind just like that?

You touch your pocket and take out your phone. If you must leave and abandon this, then so be it – but you will have some tangible memories of your dedication. You need to have some tangible memories of this glowing morning.

You start to take photos. Of what? The bowl of small chocolates that people can grab on the way out and bring to others that they love. The door decorated with flowers. The very counter you stand behind and the rays of light that are on it. The seating arrangement, the wall with your achievements, clippings from magazines, newspapers and reviews. Yes, you even take a photo of the child’s drawings with a cupcake inside of the sun. How ridiculous. And, oh, how much you’re going to miss this.

The very last photo you take is of Barbatos. He is sitting at the table, looking outside the window. Maybe you shouldn’t but – he looks like he belongs here for whatever reason. And, deep down, you wish to remember him like this. Inside of a peaceful moment. You press the click and he turns around. He doesn’t say anything – he offers a slight smile. In that moment you freeze and realize that in his peaceful moment the smile reminds you of childlike love.

Perhaps the following year will not be so bad after all.

“They call you the best in all of the three realms?” “Indeed.” “You put lemon-honey- syrup in your baklava. I refuse to believe you deserve it.”

Just because he reminds you of the moon and the deep waters; just because he gives you peace – it does not mean that professionally you will allow yourself to be inferior to him. Finding comfort with slight bickering became your idea of heaven and light in this place of darkness and hell-fire.

#obey me #obey me shall we date #barbatos #om! barbatos #barbatos x reader #barbatos x mc #obey me imagines #obey me fic #obey me barbatos #crack #kinda #fluff #also kinda #obey me headcanons #this started out as headcanons but i turned it into a fic cus #ya its barbatos come on #yall i cant cook or bake like i had no other way for this idea #should i write all my fics without caps letters it looks so pretty i know thats a trend #but like im an english major BIG AND SMALL LETTERS ARE IMPORTANT TO ME

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belfrygargoyles · 3 years

Note

*whispers* I would like to hear what you have to say on reader inserts in the SW fandom because I too have a problem with them and I feel like not enough people are calling it out 👉👈

I’ve made a few posts about it in the past but I think it’s high time I actually Do This and really get into it.

Before I start: 1) This will be in specific reference to fanfiction written for the Star Wars fandom, particularly tcw and the mandalorian eras, 2) A lot of the issues come down to racist fetishization of men of color by white women; I am white, so there is much that is simply not my place to make statements on. What I can speak most on is my take from the gender side of things.

I’d honestly recommend reading this post by @nibeul with addition by @clonehub first, as they discuss the core issue with reader inserts in the Star Wars fandom.

And 3) some of this will involve discussion of sexual acts (as they relate to fanfiction) and sexual fantasies. These discussions will be non-explicit, and no pornographic text or content will be displayed.

Also. I’m GNC and nonbinary. I’m also a very feminine looking person that falls under the generalization of “small and petite.” I don’t have dysphoria, I like my body and the traits I have, and treating them like inherently female sends me into a blind fury. This is, unfortunately, important.

For the sake of making sure I come across as clearly as possible, I will be writing as though the reader of this post has never read or is broadly unfamiliar with reader-insert fanfiction.

Without further ado.

Hey, Star Wars reader insert fic writers? Please get your shit together.

INTRODUCTION

I’ve been reading reader-insert fanfiction since I was a grade schooler waking up early to check Quizilla. I love it! It got me into fandom, kept me engaged, helped me make and develop some of my oldest OCs, and it’s just fun to read and write- it’s like a self-indulgent little gift you can give to a bunch of people all at once. Because who doesn’t like the idea of starring in their own little adventure, usually alongside some of their favorite characters? It can be fun, immersive, get you attached in ways other ways of fandom interaction may not, make you feel just a little bit special, or be a way to express some feelings you might have about canon and the way the story went.

Like any form of fiction, it ends up saying more about the author’s feelings than anything else, whether the author realizes it or not. For many, many authors of reader-insert fanfiction, the primary enjoyment comes from writing “themselves” into the story- before the readers, the author most often makes the “reader character” someone they, themselves, can relate to and substitute for themselves. They write to live out a self-indulgent fantasy they have, and their readers can come along for the ride.

Some writers do actually try to write as diverse or as vague of a reader character as possible- as few details about the body, identity, etc. as possible so anyone could superimpose their image without the narrative directly contradicting it. This is not the kind of reader insert author I will be discussing.

The kind of author I will be discussing is the one most common in the Star Wars tag on Ao3: White, AFAB, cisgender, gender-conforming, able-bodied women who assume all of their readers are also White, AFAB, cisgender, gender-conforming, able-bodied women. Yes, you can tell.

ISSUE: fetishization of men of color

Again, this post puts it in the best words, but there is a rampant problem with Star Wars reader-inserts, particularly those involving the clones, Boba Fett, and Din Djarin, fetishizing characters played by men of color as either “physically aggressive and threatening, hypersexual and dominant, big strong men who are scary because they do violence and fuck constantly when they’re not” or “completely inexperienced baby who doesn’t know anything about things and needs a gentle nurturing guiding touch to introduce him to the mere idea of a vagina.” The former is common across all of them, the latter most common among clone trooper fics or Din/Reader.

I went into the Boba Fett/Reader tag on Ao3, because I like him and hoped to find something alright. Here are some stats I tallied up (give or take some) based solely on tags, summaries, and warnings:

There are 284 works in the Boba Fett/Reader category as of the time of this post.

198/284 are rated E for explicit sexual content. 69.7% of all Boba Fett/Reader works are sexually explicit.

259/284 are in the F/M category. 91.2% of all Boba Fett/Reader works involve an explicitly female or AFAB reader.

24/284 are tagged with or mention “Age difference,” “Older man/Younger woman,” “Innocence kink” or “Virginity kink.” 8.4% of all Boba Fett/Reader works are written explicitly with an age gap, with Boba Fett as the older party

26/198 E rated fics are tagged with or make reference to “Daddy kink” or involve the reader being called some variation of “little girl” by Boba. 13% of all E-rated works under Boba Fett/Reader are daddy kink fics, or allude to Boba Fett being a daddy dom/sugar daddy.

102/198 E rated fics are tagged as, make reference to, or suggest in the summary that Boba Fett takes a dominant sexual role with a submissive reader involving rough or painful play, or make reference to Boba Fett being frightening, physically intimidating, having a power dynamic over the reader, or being possessive or violent. 51.51% of all E-rated works under Boba Fett/Reader portray Boba Fett as sexually dominant and/or enacting use of physical force or pain play.

Just using this as an example, because it’s the easiest stats I can gather and also what made me realize there was a pattern.

The problem isn’t even necessarily that people write explicit fic about Boba- it’s that 1) over half of all fics in the category are explicitly pornographic, and 2) the way those pornographic fics are written. The two things compound on each other. They’re dominance fantasies projected onto a character of color in which he becomes extremely sexual, physically rough with the reader, possessive, and demeaning towards a reader character who is always written as White, AFAB, and petite.

This brings me to the next issue.

ISSUE: The way sexual relationships are portrayed.

Let me clarify so there is no chance of me being misunderstood: sex is good. Liking and wanting and enjoying sex isn’t bad. It is not bad if you are AFAB and have submissive fantasies. It is not bad to be sexually attracted to a man of color. You can write about sex even if you haven’t had it. Writing about sex can be a good way to express some more complicated feelings you could have about certain things. It doesn’t even have to be realistic. It has its time and it has its place.

This being said.

Sexual relationships as they are portrayed in the vast majority of E-rated Star Wars reader inserts are… not great.

The reader is always AFAB. I can think of maybe one fic off the top of my head where an AFAB reader was written with they/them pronouns and not just she/her.

The reader is almost always submissive, the dominant character is almost always portrayed as cis male. Even when the characters are supposed to just be having spontaneous casual sex, D/S or BDSM aspects will be introduced with no prior discussion or talks about it afterwards. Sometimes characters will start using dirty talk and it just does not fit at all, but it’s what the author thought was hot.

Sometimes, it just reads like a quick smutty oneshot. More often than that, it reads like the author doesn’t realize that sex… isn’t always a dom/sub thing. Or that someone can take the lead in sex and that doesn’t automatically make them a dom.

It’s not bad to be inexperienced. It’s not bad to have preferences or kinks or specific turn-ons.

But it gets… tiring to read, over and over and over and over, because that’s all there is.

That and… I dunno, it just has me a little worried? It doesn’t make me feel good knowing so many people can only portray a sexual relationship if it’s dom/sub. I don’t know why it makes me so uneasy.

Vanilla sex isn’t a bad thing I promise. It's this feeling of insistence that something "spicy" absolutely has to happen for it to be worth writing that gives... some weird vibes.

I’m going to move on to the next Big-

ISSUE: Every “reader” character is exactly the same

By which I mean the following:

Always cis AFAB female

If a character is written with gender neutral pronouns they will always be AFAB and written like Girl Lite

I have never seen an explicitly stated nonbinary/gnc reader character unless it was a request specifically for a nonbinary reader

I have never seen a gender neutral reader insert fic where the reader was AMAB

I have seen a grand total of 1 cis male reader fic and 1 trans male reader fic. The trans male reader fic was about dysphoria.

The reader is allowed to have one of the following backstories: slave/runaway, mechanic, medic, ex-Rebel, secret Jedi, bounty hunter.

The reader is allowed to have one of the following personality traits: throws knives, babysitter, completely civilian, WOMAN, says curse words.

The reader is never written with any narrative agency- things only ever happen to the reader character or around the reader character, they are never written to take charge and actually affect things on their own. Essentially the sexy lamp trope.

Remember when I said the majority of people writing Star Wars reader-insert fanfic on Ao3 were White, cisgender AFAB women who are gender-conforming and able-bodied? This is how you can tell.

It’s at this point where you can tell they’re really not meant to be reader-inserts, but author-inserts with the names removed- they were only meant for a very narrow selection of readers.

I’m nonbinary, I’m gnc, and I’m a very feminine looking person, generally speaking. I’m used to people looking at me and assuming oh, girl. I’m at peace with that.

I can barely stand reading some of these fics just because of how much the author emphasizes that the reader is FEMALE shes a WOMAN with BOOBS and a VAGINA and FEMININE WILES. There’s barely ever even a chance to give myself room to mentally vault over all the “she”s and “her”s because then I’m getting hit with Din or someone calling the reader “girl” or “the woman.” It’s unbearable, and I even fall into the general description every fucking fic author uses for their generic protagonist!

Even with the “gender-neutral reader” fics, it is just. Painfully clear that they just wrote a female character and changed the pronouns- no, there is no such thing as “male behavior” or “female behavior,” and I quite heartily rebel against the concept of gender essentialism. And honestly, I can barely even begin piecing together how I know it and what it feels like, because it’s just one of those vague conglomerates of cues and writing patterns I can’t consciously pick up on but I know it’s there- it’s frustrating, it’s demeaning, and it feels like you’d have to threaten these authors at gunpoint to get them to write a reader character who was any major deviation from the same three cutouts they use every time.

It seems like they can’t possibly force themselves to write a reader character who isn’t meek and submissive or has the sole personality traits of “mean and can hit things”- you can actually strike a balance between “absolutely no personality” and “fleshed out oc” you know? And you don’t actually have to tell the reader what their hair looks like or how full their figure is

It’s like 2:20 AM and I started this at like 8something PM but.

I’m someone who loves reader-inserts. I enjoy them. I still check for new ones regularly. I’ve been reading them for well over half my life now.

So many of these authors are just locked in on exactly one way to write things and it fucking shows. It’s like a self-feeding loop, they just keep writing the same things and the same dynamics because they see each other doing it and they never think about taking a step back.

It’s… exhausting. I’m exhausted. If you’re a reader-insert fic writer and you want to improve your reader character inclusivity and have also read this far, you can DM me or shoot me an ask.

#star wars #x reader #star wars x reader #star wars reader insert #maintagging because for once i actually want ppl to see this #i hope my points are made clearly enough #if something needs clarification you can shoot me a DM or an ask

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skiesofthesketchy · 4 years

Text

Stood Up {1}

Pairing: JJ Maybank x reader

Summary: You have a date with your friend that you’ve liked forever, but he never shows up.

Note: Heyyyyy Please read the warnings before proceeding. This is one of the darker things I’ve ever written, and it might trigger some people so please be careful. I’m usually a fluff writer but I’ve been feeling... ya know, down lately so this is what I made. I’m working on the second part to Unsend still, but haven’t been in the mood lately so sorry it’s taking so long!

Let me know what you think! :)

Word Count: 6.5k

Stood Up: {Part 2} / { Part 3}

WARNINGS: Violence and abuse! sexual violence! trauma! swearing, angst

***

Y/N’s P.O.V.

10:00 PM

I pulled my sweater tighter against me when I felt a small burst of wind, the chill making goosebumps surface on my bare legs. I looked left and right down the black street, but nobody was around. It was quiet, almost silent besides dried leaves scraping against the pavement, and the only light was the orange glow from the street lamps and the red neon sign above my head casting onto the empty street. It was a nice night, even with the cool breeze, but I could feel my nerves kicking in.

I tried to remain optimistic though. Maybe he’s just running late... I pulled out my phone again to see if JJ had texted me back, but he hadn’t.

On my way! See in you 20 :)

I sighed, looking at the last text I sent him. I only sent it hoping to remind him that we had plans tonight in case he forgot. He always forgets.

‘He’s just a forgetful person,’ I tell myself for what feels like the thousandth time. It’s usually that phrase that makes me feel better, or ‘He’s got a lot going on.’ I never make it a big deal when he misses our plans, even though it feels like a small piece of my heart breaks off and dies every time it happens.

‘This time is different though,’ I told myself. It was just yesterday that I mentioned the movie theater was showing a bunch of Quentin Tarantino films this week. I tried to act like it wasn’t a big deal, just a fun thing me and my friends could all do together, but I was truly very excited about it and really hoped they’d be down.

“Are they showing Kill Bill?” JJ asked with a smile. The other pogues didn’t seem interested but I was happy that JJ was.

“Yeah. Tomorrow night actually,” I shrugged.

“We should go.”

I smiled softly at him. “Sure, if you want to.”

He chuckled, blue eyes lighting up as he poked my cheek. I knew he could see right past my nonchalant demeanor. “That’s your favorite movie ever. Of course I want to go see it with you! My treat.”

I ignored the fluttering in my belly, but couldn’t hide my smile. He remembers my favorite movie and wants to watch it with me. “You don’t have to pay for me,” I shook my head with a laugh. I didn’t expect him to, but the fact that he offered made my chest warm. JJ doesn’t have much money to begin with, and with what he does have, he usually spends on weed and beer, necessities in his daily life.

“No, no,” he tsked, bringing me into a hug. My giddy grin was thankfully hidden in his chest. Being this close to him always makes me feel lighter than air, warmer than the summer breeze. “You’re my girl. Let me take you out,” he finished, chuckling into my hair.

I felt heat rise to my cheeks, like I always did when he called me his girl. I nodded in agreement once I pulled away from his embrace. “Ten o’clock tomorrow, okay?”

“I’ll be there,” he replied, saluting me with a wink before turning to join the conversation the rest of the pogues were engaged in, leaving me to internally gush about going on a date with the boy I’ve liked since forever.

Maybe it wasn’t a date, or maybe it was. I didn’t really know, but I didn’t care as long as I got to spend time with JJ. It really did feel like this time was different. My thoughts swirled, wondering if he likes me back. Wanting to take me to a movie makes it sound like he likes me, right?

Date or not, I wanted to look nice, so I spent more time getting ready than I normally did. I experimented with some light makeup, trying to make it subtle but still pretty. I left my hair down after making it look somewhat decent, something I hardly ever do because my go-to is always putting it up. I even picked out a dress to wear but made sure to choose one that JJ had seen me in plenty of times. I didn’t want to look like I was trying too hard, but still hoped he would notice my appearance and think I looked pretty.

10:10 PM

The movie started ten minutes ago, and still no word from JJ. I glanced down at my shoes and hugged myself tighter. ‘Maybe he did forget... again.’ I didn’t want to believe it, giving JJ the benefit of the doubt like I always did. But he still wasn’t here.

Yo are you coming? I sent another text.

I was really excited about tonight, not just because I’d be seeing one of my favorite movies in the theaters as if it was premiering for the first time. Now I just feel... heavy. Like I’m carrying the weight of the reality I should’ve realized a long time ago. If I was important to him, he would remember our plans.

My frown deepened. That’s what it comes down to, right? If he actually cared about me, he would be here, or at least tell me he’s not going to make it. Constantly forgetting our plans is a huge sign that he doesn’t like me the way I like him, that I don’t matter to him enough to follow through. It’s a sign I’ve been ignoring even though it’s been there the whole time, blaringly obvious and all too painful.

No. JJ does care about me, even if it’s just as a friend. He’ll be here. He told me he would be.

10:20 PM

Spinning around and looking at the movie theater entrance, I thought about going inside and watching the movie anyway, but I suddenly wasn’t up for it anymore. This sick feeling in my gut was all I could think about.

Of course JJ doesn’t like me. Why did I get my hopes up so high when all he’s ever done is not show up? It hurts. It feels like something crawled up inside of me and slashed its claws at my dumb, naive heart. Its terrifying and hoarse voice whispering in my ear, “What did you expect?”

Perhaps this is my fault; letting myself fall for someone that doesn’t feel the same. JJ Maybank: one of my closest friends, the biggest player on the whole damn island, and the most emotionally unavailable boy I’ve ever met. Of course I had to fall for him. I’m a fucking idiot.

I slumped my shoulders, feeling defeated and tired. It’s like I was tossed to the side without a second thought, much like the trash lining the curb. My throat tightened with the emotions threatening to pour out in sobs, but I held them back. It’s not his fault. I’m the one with these stupid feelings, waiting around for him to feel them too, but he doesn’t.

10:30 PM

I checked my phone one last time, still nothing. With a deep sigh, I started walking towards the direction of my house. I focused my attention on my sandals hitting the sidewalk, each step feeling like another crack in my heart.

‘You’re fine,’ I told myself. ‘Don’t cry. You’re fine.’

But I wasn’t, and I felt the stubborn tears brim my eyes. I turned the corner and this street was much darker, the street lights dim and far apart. The sound of someone else’s footsteps pricked my ears, and I kept my head down to hide my frustration and the sadness running down my cheeks. I wanted the footsteps to belong to JJ, finally showing up but just a bit late. I knew better though, and didn’t bother looking up.

“Well, look who it is. A little pougie.” I halted in my tracks, my eyes flicking up to find his cold ones, and I shot him a glare. As if I needed something to make my night even worse. Fucking Rafe.

“Not even gonna say hello?” he asked. I kept my posture stiff and my stare hard, trying to act tough even though I was most certainly in a vulnerable state.

“What are you doing here, Rafe?” Rafe was predictable in the way that he lived to torture me and my friends. That’s the only reason he’d ever be caught dead in The Cut.

He stopped right in front of me, his tall frame dark and intimidating. Even under the blanket of night I could see his eyes were bloodshot and a sickening smirk lined his lips. He ignored my question as his eyes dragged up and down my body, making my stomach twist and skin crawl. “Where’s the rest of your dirty crew?” he spat.

“You’re lucky they’re not here.” I kept my tone steady, but I could feel my hands start to shake and an uneasy feeling settled inside of me. I need to get out of here.

With hands stuffed in his pockets, he leisurely walked around me, eyes still glued to my bare legs. “You look pretty,” he whispered. “Were you on a date?”

“No.”

“Then why are you all dressed up, darlin’?” His gaze met mine again when I spun around to face him, and with the way his features slightly softened, he probably noticed that I had been crying. “Oh. You were stood up, huh?”

Is it that obvious? “No,” I snapped.

He chuckled darkly, stepping even closer to me, and I took a step back. “His loss.” Then he just stood there staring at me while I was lost in a sea of confusion. Is he trying to be nice?

“Well. It’s been not so nice talking to you. I’m going home now.” I turned around to escape this unpleasant conversation, but I was spun back around with the man’s grip on my arm.

“Don’t leave. I’m not done talking to you.” I felt fear creep under my skin as I looked up at his face again, hardly able to make out anything but his eyes. He wasn’t asking, he was demanding.

“Leave me alone.” I tried to snatch my arm out of his grasp, but he pushed me into the brick wall of the building we were in front of.

The sudden movement caused me to stumble and twist my ankle. “Ow! Rafe, what the fuck!” I felt the pain shoot up my leg, but couldn’t focus on it for long. Rafe’s menacing features had panic surging through my veins as he came closer.

I pressed my back into the hard wall trying to separate myself as much as I could from the man towering over me. “You’ve had a rough night. Let me make you feel better,” he said. He stepped into me, his chest pressing against mine as he looked down at me.

“Get the fuck off of me,” I choked out.

His wicked laugh fanned over my face and I felt angry tears fall. “Come on, little poguie. At least I actually want you.” His words seemed to drive a knife into my chest. JJ doesn’t want me, but I don’t have time to think about that right now. I can hardly think of anything right now.

My palms rose to his chest, but he caught my wrists in his hands, keeping me from shoving him off. He laughed again, and the realization that Rafe isn’t sober washed over me like a tidal wave. What have I gotten myself into? “Let me go!” I screamed.

He shut me up by forcing his mouth onto mine. I screamed against his lips but he pressed into me harder. I started thrashing my body under the weight of his, but his hold became tighter. He brutally clutched both of my wrists into one of his large hands while the other came up to slap over my mouth, cutting off my cries.

“Just let it happen, darlin. Enjoy it,” he whispered into my ear. Hot tears ran down my face as I felt his lips on my neck. He sucked harshly on my skin as I squirmed, trying desperately to escape, but I couldn’t. Even if I couldn’t, I would die trying.

His mouth attacked my throat while I struggled between him and the wall. With the adrenaline pumping through my body, I used all of my strength and pushed him as hard as I possibly could. With the few inches I created between us, I picked my leg up and stomped my heel into his foot.

I prepared to bolt with the time I had bought myself, but a second later he was landing a ruthless slap to my face. I registered the burning pain as he pinned me to the wall with his body again. “Oh, now you’re really gonna get it, pogue.” His sudden anger shook me to my core, his sick laugh echoing in my ears like a fire alarm.

His hand landed on my thigh and dragged along my skin, pushing my dress up higher and higher as I felt the screams get caught in my throat. I dug my nails into his arms but he wasn’t bothered. He kissed me again and I took his bottom lip between my teeth, biting down hard until I tasted blood.

He yanked his head back, face twisting in rage. Even with his violating hands still searing into my skin, I brought my knee up into his crotch, and he yelled in pain. I didn’t waste any time and took off running, but I was yanked back by my hair.

“Fucking bitch!” My head throbbed as I crashed to the ground, feeling my elbows scrape the pavement. I was seeing stars as I felt Rafe’s weight drop on top of me, his form straddling me. I threw my fists wildly into his stomach and chest, desperately trying anything to escape him, but I knew my efforts were becoming futile. His ring-clad fist connected with my cheekbone and a sob crawled its way up my throat.

“Stop!” I screamed. His hand suddenly grabbed my throat, cutting off my cries once again. I clawed at his skin to get him to stop, but he only increased the pressure on my esophagus until I couldn’t breathe, and I squeezed my eyes shut. My world was spinning and my terror didn’t let me register the pain anymore, only the horrendous realization of what’s happening to me taking over my thoughts.

After what felt like minutes but was only a few seconds, I felt his breath fan over my face from where he hovered over me. “You’re not fucking worth the trouble.” He released my neck and I felt him get off of me, but I dared not open my eyes. I was too scared of what might happen. It surely became known when I felt a sharp kick to my stomach. I whimpered, then he landed another kick to my side. “Nobody wants you now! Nobody will ever want you! You’re just a dirty little pogue,” he seethed.

“Fucking bitch,” he spat again, and I heard his heavy footsteps as he stormed off, leaving me on the ground in pieces.

11:00 PM

I finally sat up, finding the strength to put myself together again, but was pulled into a coughing fit, my throat burning. I wish I could say I was numb, but I was brutally aware of the torment my body has been through, of the emotional trauma I’d have to live with.

I carefully stood to my feet but folded in half with arms wrapped around my stomach, clutching myself in pain. Everything hurts. I forced myself to straighten, holding back the tears. I felt broken in every way possible, but I willed myself to figure out how to get help.

I picked up my bag that had been tossed to the ground and rummaged through it for my cell phone. With a heavy heart, I called the one person that I needed more than anyone.

But of course, he didn’t answer. More tears were shed, even though it felt like I couldn’t possibly cry anymore. “Answer, goddammit,” I sobbed. I called again. “Please, JJ. Please. I need you.” Again, the call went to voicemail.

I let out a wail of anguish. Even with nasty bruises already forming on my skin, the loud shatter of my heart is what hurt the most. He’s never here. Even when I need him.

I didn’t even want to call anyone else. My ankle, my face, my stomach, my throat. Even though I was shaking in pain, I wanted to wallow in my heartbreak alone, so I slowly started walking again, and limped all the way home.

***

JJ’s P.O.V.

“How was the movie last night?”

I stretched my arms over my head with a yawn, barely registering what John B. asked. “Huh?”

He chuckled and sat next to me on the pullout couch in the living room where I slept. “You got back pretty late last night. I’m guessing you and Y/N had a good time?” Now I’m thinking it’s not just my sleep induced brain that’s making me so confused.

“What do you mean? I wasn’t with Y/N,” I groaned while rubbing my eyes, the sunlight seeping through the windows too bright and annoying.

“What do you mean, dude?” His eyebrows furrowed and his eyes suddenly flashed with anger. “You were supposed to take her to a movie last night.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” I grumbled, getting even more annoyed. He doesn’t have a right to be pissed at me, not when I have no idea what he’s even pissed about. It’s too fucking early for this shit.

John B. stood up with a sharp laugh. “I can’t believe you forgot again, man. Seriously?”

I sat up, my anger matching his now. “You wanna tell me what this is about?” He shook his head before looking at me again, baffled.

“Y/N? Kill Bill? You guys had a date planned.”

I glared at him before realization finally hit me. I slapped my hand to my forehead. “Fuck. Was that supposed to be last night?”

He shook his head again. “You’re unbelievable, really.” I sighed. It was an honest mistake. At least I know she’ll forgive me. She always forgives me.

“I’ll fix it. I’m sure she won’t be mad.” John B. rolled his eyes. “And it wasn’t a date, by the way.”

“Yeah? Did you tell her that?”

“Stop talking in riddles, man. What the hell do you mean? Of course she knows.” He hit me on the back of the head, reminding me of my headache, the dreaded hangover starting to take effect. “Hey! What was that for?”

“She likes you, idiot! No idea why, considering you’re just a dick that doesn’t bother to show up to the plans you guys make.”

“Is this why you’re yelling at me? She doesn’t like me, dude. Not like that,” I rolled my eyes. I could punch him for getting on my case over nothing. Y/N doesn’t like me, and missing plans has never been a big deal. I just want to deal with my hangover in peace.

“You don’t deserve her. And she doesn’t deserve your shit,” he said, walking away into the kitchen.

“You’re getting mad over nothing. Fuck off,” I grunted, head in my hands. I need coffee and advil. His yelling is making my headache worse.

He sauntered back into the living room, throwing a bottle of painkillers at me, too forcefully if you ask me. “Just tell me, if you weren’t with Y/N, what did you do last night?”

I smirked, remembering the events that took place. “A hot blonde that I met at the boneyard,” my smirk widened. I expected some sort of congratulations from my best friend like usual, but I was met with a scoff and a water bottle being thrown at me.

“You’re a prick. You know that?”

“And you’re an asshole. What do you want from me?”

“Whatever, dude. Let’s just hope Y/N forgives you this time,” he snapped, walking away and finally leaving me in much needed silence.

“She will!” I yelled after him, hearing his bedroom door slam shut.

I sighed before gulping down the painkillers for my headache. I grabbed my discarded shorts from yesterday on the floor and grabbed my phone out of the pocket. I had forgotten that I put it on Do Not Disturb mode after the hot blonde and I left the party. Girls like it when you give them all of your attention, and aren’t distracted by calls and texts.

I sighed again when I saw the text’s from Y/N.

9:36 PM: On my way! See you in 20 :)

10:10 PM: Yo are you coming?

I sure feel like an asshole now. I hoped that she would’ve watched the movie without me anyway, but considering she called me twice at 11:00, she probably didn’t. I feel even worse now that I can see she waited over an hour for me. I typed out a text to her, but I wasn’t sure how to word this apology.

Hey, sorry I missed out last night. Got held up :)

I opted for keeping it nonchalant, not wanting to make this a big deal. I’ll make sure she knows how sorry I am the next time I see her. I’m not worried though. She’s the only one out of the pouges that doesn’t get mad at me when I do stupid shit, and she always forgives me. This time won’t be any different.

I laid back down with my arm covering my eyes, and I thought about what John B. said. Y/N doesn’t like me. She’d be stupid to like a fuck up like me. No, no, we’re just friends, and have been for years. I laughed at the thought.

John B. was right about one thing, though. I definitely don’t deserve her. She’s way too good for me, especially when I’m not good to her.

***

Y/N’s P.O.V.

I stood in front of the mirror and peered at my naked body in the reflection, tears spilling down my cheeks for what felt like the millionth time.

My eye was swollen and bruised, a cut on my cheek from Rafe’s ring. Large spots of sickly green and deep violet stained my torso. Dark rings around my wrists from his tight grip. A lighter purple ring wrapped around my neck from where Rafe’s hands had cut off my breathing.

My hot tears dripped from my face and landed on my collarbone, bringing my attention to the hickeys littering the side of my neck too. I wanted to vomit. I could take the physical assault, but that’s not all this was. He violated me. Kissed me. Sucked on my neck while his hands traveled under my dress.

Going to the police was a thought that bounced through my mind, but I couldn’t, not yet at least. I was much too unstable. I needed support if I was going to report it, but I still hadn’t told anyone what happened. I spent all of yesterday locked in my room, letting myself wallow in the pain.

JJ had texted me yesterday morning, apologizing for not showing up. A simple text wasn’t enough this time. He texted me again that afternoon.

I’m really sorry, Y/N. I’ll make it up to you. Please don’t be mad at me :(

I wasn’t mad. I was heartbroken, and didn’t bother responding to that text either. If he had shown up, I wouldn’t have been assaulted by Rafe. If he was there, we would have been happily watching my favorite movie, eating snacks and probably laughing at the gore displayed on the screen. If he was there, I wouldn’t have been crying in the dark streets alone, trying to wrap my head around the fact that I could have been raped. That I was almost raped.

The other pogues were trying to get a hold of me yesterday too, inviting me to their plans, but I never responded to anyone. I didn’t want to face them, or anyone for that matter. I didn’t even think I wanted to tell them what happened. It was all too much, and I didn’t want to relive it by telling anyone what Rafe had done to me. Not to mention it would add even more ammunition to the war between us and the kooks.

I don’t feel any different today, still just wanting to curl up in bed and be alone for probably forever, but I don’t have that luxury today. My mom had left for work this morning before I even woke up, but she sent me a text asking me to run some errands. When I protested, she gave me the whole lecture on how I only ever spend time with the pogues and never help out. I didn’t have a choice.

With one last glance in the mirror, I wiped the tears off my face and started getting dressed. I had to cover the bruises somehow, but makeup was not going to do the trick. Despite the hot temperature outside, I threw on a large sweatshirt over my sports bra. If I put the hood on, nobody would notice the disgusting marks lining my neck. I found a pair of my mom’s oversized sunglasses and they covered enough of my face to hide the cut on my cheek along with the black eye. I put on shorts and shoes and grabbed my bag before looking in the mirror one last time. Nobody would notice.

***

JJ’s P.O.V.

“Have you guys heard from Y/N?” Pope asked the group. “She hasn’t responded to any of my texts for like two days.” I frowned. At least I wasn’t the only one she was ignoring. I thought that she was probably still mad at me for bailing on our plans, but since she isn’t responding to Pope either, maybe she’s just busy with other things.

“No, I haven’t,” Kie answered. “Pretty weird, right?”

“Yeah, I wonder what’s up.” Pope’s face looked concerned suddenly, and I found my own expression matching his.

“Why don’t you ask JJ here,” John B. said, tone sharp with annoyance. Kie and Pope both whipped their heads towards me, eyebrows raised in question. I just scoffed, turning my attention back to waxing my board.

“What the hell did you do?” Pope asked. His accusing words pissed me off. Who said this was my fault?

“Nothing, okay? I just forgot we had plans, and--” I was cut off by John B.

“No surprise there,” he mumbled under his breath.

Kiara sighed, her disappointed eyes casting down on me. “Seriously, JJ?”

“What? You guys can’t pin the blame on me! I got distracted, it wasn’t my fault.”

John B. scoffed and I wanted to punch him, much like yesterday morning. “Yeah, what was her name again? The distraction, I mean.” I rolled my eyes.

“Come on, dude. Not cool,” Pope added with a shake of his head. With all three of them staring at me in dismay, it felt like my friends were attacking me. It’s also like they knew something I didn’t. Why is everything always my fault?

“Stop turning it into a big deal. I just forgot, okay? I already apologized, so it’s fine.”

“So she forgave you?” JB asked, eyes narrowed like he already knew the answer.

“Well, no...” I let my head drop, looking down at the golden sand with all of our beach gear. “She never responded. But come on, this is Y/N we’re talking about! She never stays mad for long.” The words were meant to get my friends off my back, but I found myself taking comfort in them too. I had never really seen Y/N mad before, but if she actually was mad at me, I hoped she’d let me make it up to her and forgive me. I let myself believe that everything would be fine.

Nobody had anything else to say, only sighing and turning their gazes away from me. I felt the anger sitting in the pit of my stomach, but at least they dropped the subject. I’m more upset that this might actually be my fault. ‘Y/N isn’t the type to get mad easily,’ I reminded myself again. But she’s also not the type to ignore her friends. My mind drifted, wondering if she’s okay.

“Eat up, boys,” Kie said, taking a stack of sandwiches out of the cooler she brought. We all sat down on our towels and started eating, but I couldn’t shake the thought of Y/N from my mind. Maybe I should text her again.

Hey. We’re all at the beach having lunch if you wanna join us. Even if you don’t, that’s ok. Just let me know you got this. We’re all worried about you. I’m worried about you...

I typed it out, but couldn’t bring myself to send it. If she really is ignoring us, I’m sure it’s for a good reason. Maybe it’s best to just give her space. She’ll reach out when she wants to. Whatever the reason, though, I really hope it’s not because of me. She’s the one person I can always count on to be on my side, and I don’t know what I’d do if I was the cause of her distancing from us.

“Oh, no way. It’s Y/N!” Pope interrupted my thoughts. My head turned to see where he was looking, and sure enough, it was my girl, passing through the boardwalk.

Pope was up on his feet and ran to her, calling over his shoulder that he’ll bring her over to us.

***

Y/N’s P.O.V.

“Y/N! Hey!” I stopped in my tracks when I heard my name being shouted, and I noticed Pope running up from behind me.

“Oh, hey Pope,” I said, trying to swallow down my nerves. I didn’t plan on running into my friends here. I didn’t need them finding out about what happened the other night, so I put on a half-hearted smile, trying to act normal, trying to act okay.

“Where the hell have you been?” he asked with a laugh, pulling me into a bear hug. I held back my wince from where he grabbed my sides, the bruises there shooting pain through my body.

“Oh, ya know,” I gulped. “Just busy with my family.” I was glad that my sunglasses were dark enough so that he couldn’t see my eyes. If he could, he’d know I was lying within seconds. “Sorry I’ve been M.I.A.”

“It’s alright. Come on. We’re having lunch right now.” He grabbed my hand and started pulling me towards the beach, and the other pogues sitting together on the beach came into my focus.

My eyes widened. “Uh, no, Pope. Sorry, but I have to go.” He stopped and gave me a weird look. “I... I’m running errands for my mom,” I shrugged, hoping he would let me go so that I don’t have to talk to the others, talk to JJ.

“Just come say hi then. Everyone missed you!” He tugged my hand again, but I didn’t budge from where I planted my feet in the sand.

“No, Pope. Really, I have to get going.” I didn’t have any other excuses up my sleeve, and I could feel my resolve coming undone. He gave me another weird look, probably wondering what the hell is going on with me. I wanted to tell him. I did, really. But I was not ready to talk about it. I didn’t need him or the others seeing what I looked like under this sweatshirt, or the black eye I was sporting under my glasses. I knew it would only cause more problems, more rage, and I couldn’t handle that right now. If anything, I just needed a hug.

“Is everything okay?” I looked down at my feet and sighed, trying to muster up the strength to lie to one of my best friends. When I looked back up to him, he had sent a look towards the pogues, and they all got up and started making their way over.

“Yes, Pope. I’m fine,” I breathed out a laugh, trying to cover up my panic. “I gotta go, now. Really.” I turned around to run away, but I was too late. The pogues had already crossed the beach and were surrounding me.

“Y/N! Hey, we missed you!” Kie smiled, pulling me into a hug. Again, I had to hide my grimace from the pain that engulfed me so that my friends couldn’t see. I knew I couldn’t keep up this act for long, and I felt my heart sinking further into my chest.

“Yeah, I’m glad we ran into you,” John B. smiled with a nod in my direction. His expression was soft and kind, and it strangely made me feel like he understood that I wasn’t all the way okay.

“There’s my girl,” JJ’s voice rang through my ears. He looked relieved, and pulled me into his chest, squeezing me tight. This time, I wasn’t able to hold in the small noise that escaped past my lips. When he pulled away, he looked down at me with concern. “You okay?”

I pushed him away. “Yeah, I’m fine.” I couldn’t put on a half-assed smile this time. He’s the one causing my pain. The one that bailed on me. The one that wasn’t there when I needed him, leaving me alone and in broken pieces on that horrible night.

“Why are you wearing a sweatshirt?” Kie laughed. “It’s like one hundred degrees out here.” I just shrugged my shoulders, even though I was dying under the heavy material and the heat of the sun. I looked over my shoulder down the boardwalk, trying to avoid their worried glances, especially JJ’s. I could feel his eyes burning into me, and I couldn’t bear the weight of it for much longer.

“Yeah, what the hell? It’s burning hot out here,” Pope added, and pulled my hood off my head.

“Pope, don’t,” I said. “I have to go.” I turned away after putting my hood back on and started walking, not even caring that they definitely know something’s wrong now. I just need to get away before I break down.

JJ was the one to catch up to me, leaving the pogues behind us and sharing worried looks. “Y/N, wait.” He grabbed my wrist, and I winced at the contact. “I just wanted to say that I’m so sorry for missing our plans. I got held up with a touron, and you know how it is. She was so hot, how could I not go home with her?” he laughed. Looking up at him, I felt my heart shatter all over again. Of course. He wasn’t with me because he was hooking up with some girl. This fucking hurts more than the punch Rafe landed to my face, and I felt anger swell inside of me.

“Come on, you’re not mad at me, are you?” He smiled, bringing his hands up to cradle my face. He was being his charming self like usual, which is precisely the reason I even fell for him in the first place. But his cute dimples and bright eyes aren’t going to fix anything this time. If anything, they’re just another stab to my chest.

He could sense I wasn’t giving into him. “I’ll make it up to you. Promise,” he pouted. My lips parted to speak, but no words tumbled out. He suddenly ripped my sunglasses from my face.

“JJ, don’t!” His face dropped at the sight of my bruised eye. The glasses fell to the sand when he stepped closer to me, eyes scanning my face. I pushed him back, but he swatted my hands away.

“Y/N?” His features quickly turned from worried to angry. “What the fuck happened?” I felt tears pricking my eyes, but I held them back as I tried to push him away again. He yanked my hood off my head and I knew he was piecing it all together now.

He reached for the bottom of my sweatshirt, and my hands grabbed at his to try and stop him. “Leave me alone,” I yelled, but he didn’t. Despite my attempts to stop him, he had grabbed the bottom of my sweatshirt and started pulling it up over my head. “JJ, stop!” I yelled again, but I couldn’t fight him back anymore because it hurt too much. He had taken it all the way off, leaving me just in my sports bra, my beaten body on full display.

A series of gasps surrounded me as the other pogues gathered around us again, shocked and bewildered expressions on their faces. I watched JJ scan my body. His eyes lingered on the bruises on my belly before flicking to my face again, and then my neck. With the way his eyebrows furrowed and he clenched his jaw, I could tell he was examining the hickeys on my skin. Tears ran freely down my cheeks, and the silence was deafening.

“Oh, Y/N...” Kie whispered, eyes becoming glossy.

“What the fuck happened?!” JJ burst. His face was twisted in rage as his hands reached for me. I stepped away, but he grabbed my arms. “Who the fuck did this to you?!” I shook my head, trying to swallow the sob that was making its way up my throat. “Y/N, who the fuck was it?!”

“JJ! Lay off!” John B. spoke up. Kie had wrapped her arms around me, wanting to shield me from our angry friend. They could tell JJ wasn’t helping.

John B. and Pope pulled at JJ’s arms to get him to step back, but he exploded even more. “YN! Tell me who did this to you!” Seeing his reddened face and furious eyes made my own burning anger swim to the surface.

“Stop yelling at her!” Pope told JJ, him and JB still holding the blonde away from me.

“No! I swear to god I’m going to kill ‘em. What the FUCK happened??”

“It wouldn’t have happened if you had bothered to SHOW UP!” I flared, my voice slicing through the chaos among the group. My heated gaze met JJ’s, and his entire face fell at my words, the rage washing away from his pools of blue and replaced with sadness.

Everything seemed to still at my outburst, even my tears. I watched as JJ crumbled beneath the weight of my words. As angry and heartbroken and hurt as I was, I wanted to see him this way. I wanted him to feel guilty.

“I should’ve known you wouldn’t show up. I should've known you wouldn’t answer when I called you for help. Because you never do.” With every word I spat, I could see the effect they had on him. I kept my ruthless stare fixed on him. “Congrats on fucking some touron, though.”

Everyone stayed silent as I picked up my sweatshirt and sunglasses from the sand. I glanced at JJ one last time before putting my glasses back on and turning around, leaving everyone behind me without another word.

***

Read: Stood Up - Part 2

Masterlist

***

#outer banks #outer banks fic #obx #jj maybank #jj maybank x reader #angst #jj maybank fic #jj x reader #rudy pankow #skiesofthesketchy #bricksatans #stood up

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