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bubblegumbeech · 1 year

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Keep your Memory Close

Part 17 of my Exploring the Zone series

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His Ma’s farm was wonderful, the ground easy to till, the chores relatively easy to keep up with. She had so much water it felt like a dream, and the sun even set on its own. He didn’t need to calculate a time to cover the fields to protect them from over exposure.

With Danny and Jazz both back in Amity Park, it was especially nice. Because he didn’t feel like he had to defend himself. He still missed his dad but Ma had told him about what happened. How his dad wanted to move on, restart their lives. How his Ma couldn’t, only to realize she was happier on her own anyways.

Flynn wondered if maybe he would have ended up the same way even if he hadn’t fallen through that portal. If his parents would have still divorced and Flynn still felt the need to build his own life from the ground up.

Plenty of his siblings didn’t live in isolation like him. Some had other friends, or lived on the move, or even just hung out at their own lairs between lessons.

He pulled a weed, and it came up easily. It didn’t scream, or fight, or try to bite back at him.

It was nice…

It made him miss home.

It made him miss Dokkaebi and Rabbit Guise. And all his other siblings.

He wiped the sweat off his brow. Would it be better to stay? To leave his siblings behind? Or would that be the same as giving up? He’d made a promise, over a decade ago now, that he would never give up.

Standing straight, Flynn looked over his Ma’s field as memories he’d never buried stole him away from the moment.

Flynn was scared. He’d been scared non-stop for about a year now. Or however long he’d been trapped in the Infinite Realms, away from his real family. Surrounded by his so-called siblings. With their teeth, and flying, and weird powers and weirder shapes.

He’d mostly been taken under the wing of a large were-wolf looking ghost named Fido.

Fido was terrifying to look at–half skeletal and half feral looking wolf– and the first time they’d met, Flynn had attacked him with a big stick, desperately trying to protect himself as Mother laughed.

She’d taken the stick from him, gently, then explained that this was his big brother now, and that he'd help guide him in Flynn’s lesson that time. Because Flynn was young, and weak.

And he needed to get stronger.

The lesson that time was hard for both of them. Flynn had to learn how lessons worked, the bare minimum to survive them. Fido had to learn how to get a human through the Eternal Hike alive. Fido had a much, much , harder time than Flynn.

Of course, his next lesson was alone. Mother couldn't risk letting him develop dependence. That would leave him weak . So she’d thrown him into the Garden Web. He’d discovered the blood blossoms there–a weak enough strand that it barely did anything to stronger ghosts, but it was something he could use to his advantage.

Misery had been very proud of that.

Fido too. Helped him choose a good place to try and start a garden. (Not that they succeeded. Gardening is hard even in a mortal realm. In the Realms it was almost impossible. Flynn had started taking voluntary trips to the Garden Web after that.)

He missed Fido. Despite his appearance, he was warm, welcoming and easy to get along with. Fido used to pat him on the head whenever he felt scared or alone or homesick and remind him that wolves were pack creatures.

The last time he’d seen Fido… Had been in the Mirrorage Maze.

They’d made it to the end. Surrounded by doppelgangers so twisted and morphed they were unrecognizable, not that either of them would recognize people who had been lost to the maze.

Fido had been struggling for a long time. A lot of responsibility weighed him down, his obsession pack-focused but it was… weakening. The struggle was too much even as he tried to help and protect his siblings.

The worst part… Was how little Flynn had expected it.

Mother Misery had made it clear that she would not let her children End. She was protective, cruel, but protective. She kept an eye on them, and if she thought they were going to fail, or be put at any actual risk she would put a stop to the lesson, fix them up herself, and then start a new lesson.

It wasn’t generally worth failing a lesson, just to be put right back into a new one, so naturally Flynn and the others would struggle and strive to survive each and every time. Their rest was earned after all.

Flynn, Fido, and Rabbit Guise had made it to the end of the lesson. They were steps away from the exit. They were so close .

Fido had grabbed the both of them in a hug, tight and warm and uncomfortable before Flynn noticed he wasn’t as solid as he should have been.

“Fido? What is going on?” Flynn was still so young then, had no idea.

Rabbit Guise had grabbed Fido's wrist. “You can’t,” he said, his voice breaking.

“I’m sorry kiddos.” Fido’s tail wagged slowly. “I only had enough to get you through this maze I think.”

“Enough what? Fido?” Flynn felt panic start to build in his chest, a knot of it tightening with every unspoken word or apologetic glance. “Do you need ectoplasm?”

Fido had stopped him even as Flynn reached for the purified ectoplasm he’d started carrying with him. “I’m sorry Flynn. It’s not something like that.”

“You can still make it,” Rabbit Guise hadn’t let go, but Fido was barely solid enough to hold onto. “You just need a reason .”

“I don’t want one. You can both take care of yourselves now. That’s what mattered, in the end.”

“I can’t,” Flynn found himself saying, “I can’t. I still need help, with the garden–”

Fido chuckled and shook his head. “You got them to bloom last I saw.”

Tears filled Flynn’s vision, leaking down his cheeks and into the freshly plucked blood blossoms around his neck. “But I need…”

“Shhh,” Fido placed a single claw to Flynn’s lips. “You know better, than to say that where Mother can hear.”

He did. He thought though, it would be worth an extra lesson, to keep his brother.

“ Fido ,” Mother stormed into the room, “ No no no, you’re stronger than this– ”

She gathered him into her arms and started weaving; her healing faded with him though, useless and empty. She started singing next, urging him to choose a new obsession, to keep existing. She even promised to help, promised respite. But nothing worked.

Fido disappeared smiling.

That was how Flynn discovered Mother Misery’s biggest fault.

Yes, she could protect them from anything. Could teach them to be strong. But she couldn’t force them to hold on. Could keep them from Ending, but not from Fading.

Misery Vex could not keep a ghost from moving on.

“Flynn?” His Ma’s voice dragged him out of his memories, and warm, calloused hands that felt so solid, so human, brushed away his tears. “What’s wrong?”

He shook his head. “I’m sorry Ma,” was all he could say.

He made a promise back then, between him and Rabbit Guise, as they mourned their brother. They’d both promised to never give up, to keep fighting. For their siblings, for each other.

That was why Flynn had to go back.

Why he couldn’t let himself fall into the easy domesticity a mortal life provided. His siblings needed him. So did Mother.

It was hard, almost impossible, to change a ghost’s self. But that was exactly what Misery Vex made her specialty, and Flynn was her child. He could find a way, somehow, to change it all. He had to.

He’d promised.

#Danny Phantom #Flynn walker #Bee's Hive #Fido (OC)#Character death #Angst #Bee's writing #flynn Fenton #DP

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simiansmoke · 10 months

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@ofwolfpacksins cont.

Death had heard his fair share of weird things in his time, but. . . this may be a first. Being it was his first time to the Jungle Kingdom, he hadn't know what to expect. It was certainly an interesting place for the wolf to have traveled, but now? Well, he had gotten lost. Completely lost. So much so that he had come across what appeared to be a small hiking trail to some hot springs on the outer part of the kingdom. Out of pure curiosity, the wolf had traveled up the trail, only to hear what sounded like. . . someone talking? Singing? He wasn't totally sure. He just knew someone was up there and he wanted to find out what they were doing. It didn't take him long to figure it out as he came across what appeared to be Donkey Kong in one of the springs, facing away from him and talking about something. The wolf raised an eyebrow at hearing the last part and cleared his throat,

❝Are you entirely sure you want to be dead, mi amigo?❞

The weather had been dreary all week. Which stunk because they weren't even in the wet season yet - which DK took as a direct assault against his dry season time. His mood fouled, he finally couldn't take the fight between staying bored inside and getting thoroughly drenched should he venture out. So - why not go out TO get wet? Cue the hot springs, which is actually a decent rainy-night activity. When cold drops met bubbling heat, the steam picked up intensity until you couldn't properly see your nose in front of your face if you went too deep inside.

Having snagged a couple of fermented coconuts on the way, DK had already drained one by the time he decided since no one was exactly around to pester, he could do some lyric work. Too bad he's still grumpy so they're not exactly pop material. Shaking up another coconut, he doesn't notice the visitor until he speaks up.

Blinking, the Kong slides back to hoist his upper body higher on a rock in order to better glance over his shoulder and squint over at the pair of red eyes peering through the steam curtain. "Huh?" Taking a moment to realize he was referencing his half tipsy attempt at working up a vibe, DK snorts and reaches up to roll his damp hair curl back a ways when it started dripping on his nose. "Haven't you ever heard of the creative process, dude? Because I'm in...the PROCESS."

Though he welcomes the break with a swift fang to the coconut's side, edging in a hole where a strong, alcoholic smell rises to singe any nose hairs that happen to get too close. With a tilt that causes the liquid inside to spill, he shotguns that shit with a surprising amount of poise.

#//everyones a CRItic #//let him shotgun his nuts in peace fido #//he follows the good ol teaching of hemingway - have too many death in the afternoons then write something #tw alcohol #wolfpackmuses

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coe-lilium · 2 years

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Lured by the endless stream of gifs and art I’ve... obtained nearly all the episodes of this Owl House show. Let’s see what all the fuss is about

#if there's a complaint i have with past years - past decade? US cartoons is that damn do i find the art style unappealing #studio mir works are up my alley but the rest damn #mi fido che le storie siano belle davvero. ma non riesco a levarmi dalla testa l'impressione 'disegni da asilo o elementari al massimo'#and apparently it turns out that liking the artstyle is a litmus test on if im gonna engage w a show or not #even she-ra was a struggle #and i rather liked it #so. let's see if the writing can sell me the artstyle for this one too

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aidatapoisoningbyblue · 2 months

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Trust blinder image litoral has gas tax Cris you on my TV. Are is it TV at UC see you? Friday yes RV Von free to my in VA so is euro jack position had Ivory CD yet Uber TV

#Fido #but #nocivo #Bob Mar #London once it’s #precise unos in #writing prompt

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kataviel · 2 years

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August 31st, 2022

WRITING (Warning, descriptions of violence, rambling, dark content, frustration, fowl language, self hxrm, let me know if I missed any other warnings. Oh, and derealization?)

Everybody knows about the monsters under your bed, the thing in your closet. You've all heard about things lurking in the woods, the corn, the water, about all those demons and dead things that attach themselves to anything that smells like a story. These things aren't evil, evil is such a stupid silly concept. Theres nothing that's actually good either, not really, and putting these things against each other as if stories can be opposites... foolish.

But every night, nearly, every night. Something brings me a dream the way a dog brings it's leash, hopeful, wanting, you could see it in its eyes, if you ever looked at it. I haven't, maybe it doesn't have eyes. Maybe it has nothing, but it's leash. (My hand hurts, it seizes up after writing only a few sentences. So know every word is a gift for you, I am struggling)

GORE WARNING

Last night, my "night dog" (I guess the name works) brought me another horrid, bloody dream. I remember little but that a horrible stinking man, very human, stubble all about his face and neck, came for us. (Us? There were others besides me?) He grabbed me and plunged his knife into my side. I fought him off, kicked him in his disgusting stained pants, and took his knife. I stabbed him in his neck and then stabbed him everywhere else til he stopped fighting, thrashing, and eventually fell to gurgling. I'm not sure if I died. I did wake up. Thanks, dog./sar. (I wish I could write more it hurts sososososos bad. I damn this seizing, curly sort of pain, damn, it's hold on me I WANT TO WRITE! and walk and dance and live a damned life.)

I am cursed to forever live in my head and write the same blasted things over and over again on a fuckingscreen.

If i crash smack my knuckles upon the bar it hurts enough for me to ignore the pain building in my wrist and get a sentence in. I still have so much to say about my dream dog, my dreams, my house and me.

Somehow grime always gets under my nails. I don't know why.

#journaling #rambles #dark thoughts #help #nightmare #i live with a disability i don't understand #stupid fido #the shadows are living light #my head is a computer #a haunted computer and im twisting and writhing inside it #thoughts are strange like this #it's stranger yet when your thoughts bring worlds to life #what a dangerous responsibilty for a child #i apologize for poor writing #this was not edited #be kind to me I am trying but the responsibilities of a Maker are much

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nostalgebraist · 3 months

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information flow in transformers

In machine learning, the transformer architecture is a very commonly used type of neural network model. Many of the well-known neural nets introduced in the last few years use this architecture, including GPT-2, GPT-3, and GPT-4.

This post is about the way that computation is structured inside of a transformer.

Internally, these models pass information around in a constrained way that feels strange and limited at first glance.

Specifically, inside the "program" implemented by a transformer, each segment of "code" can only access a subset of the program's "state." If the program computes a value, and writes it into the state, that doesn't make value available to any block of code that might run after the write; instead, only some operations can access the value, while others are prohibited from seeing it.

This sounds vaguely like the kind of constraint that human programmers often put on themselves: "separation of concerns," "no global variables," "your function should only take the inputs it needs," that sort of thing.

However, the apparent analogy is misleading. The transformer constraints don't look much like anything that a human programmer would write, at least under normal circumstances. And the rationale behind them is very different from "modularity" or "separation of concerns."

(Domain experts know all about this already -- this is a pedagogical post for everyone else.)

1. setting the stage

For concreteness, let's think about a transformer that is a causal language model.

So, something like GPT-3, or the model that wrote text for @nostalgebraist-autoresponder.

Roughly speaking, this model's input is a sequence of words, like ["Fido", "is", "a", "dog"].

Since the model needs to know the order the words come in, we'll include an integer offset alongside each word, specifying the position of this element in the sequence. So, in full, our example input is

[ ("Fido", 0), ("is", 1), ("a", 2), ("dog", 3), ]

The model itself -- the neural network -- can be viewed as a single long function, which operates on a single element of the sequence. Its task is to output the next element.

Let's call the function f. If f does its job perfectly, then when applied to our example sequence, we will have

f("Fido", 0) = "is" f("is", 1) = "a" f("a", 2) = "dog"

(Note: I've omitted the index from the output type, since it's always obvious what the next index is. Also, in reality the output type is a probability distribution over words, not just a word; the goal is to put high probability on the next word. I'm ignoring this to simplify exposition.)

You may have noticed something: as written, this seems impossible!

Like, how is the function supposed to know that after ("a", 2), the next word is "dog"!? The word "a" could be followed by all sorts of things.

What makes "dog" likely, in this case, is the fact that we're talking about someone named "Fido."

That information isn't contained in ("a", 2). To do the right thing here, you need info from the whole sequence thus far -- from "Fido is a", as opposed to just "a".

How can f get this information, if its input is just a single word and an index?

This is possible because f isn't a pure function. The program has an internal state, which f can access and modify.

But f doesn't just have arbitrary read/write access to the state. Its access is constrained, in a very specific sort of way.

2. transformer-style programming

Let's get more specific about the program state.

The state consists of a series of distinct "memory regions" or "blocks," which have an order assigned to them.

Let's use the notation memory_i for these. The first block is memory_0, the second is memory_1, and so on.

In practice, a small transformer might have around 10 of these blocks, while a very large one might have 100 or more.

Each block contains a separate data-storage "cell" for each offset in the sequence.

For example, memory_0 contains a cell for position 0 ("Fido" in our example text), and a cell for position 1 ("is"), and so on. Meanwhile, memory_1 contains its own, distinct cells for each of these positions. And so does memory_2, etc.

So the overall layout looks like:

memory_0: [cell 0, cell 1, ...] memory_1: [cell 0, cell 1, ...] [...]

Our function f can interact with this program state. But it must do so in a way that conforms to a set of rules.

Here are the rules:

The function can only interact with the blocks by using a specific instruction.

This instruction is an "atomic write+read". It writes data to a block, then reads data from that block for f to use.

When the instruction writes data, it goes in the cell specified in the function offset argument. That is, the "i" in f(..., i).

When the instruction reads data, the data comes from all cells up to and including the offset argument.

The function must call the instruction exactly once for each block.

These calls must happen in order. For example, you can't do the call for memory_1 until you've done the one for memory_0.

Here's some pseudo-code, showing a generic computation of this kind:

f(x, i) { calculate some things using x and i; // next 2 lines are a single instruction write to memory_0 at position i; z0 = read from memory_0 at positions 0...i; calculate some things using x, i, and z0; // next 2 lines are a single instruction write to memory_1 at position i; z1 = read from memory_1 at positions 0...i; calculate some things using x, i, z0, and z1; [etc.] }

The rules impose a tradeoff between the amount of processing required to produce a value, and how early the value can be accessed within the function body.

Consider the moment when data is written to memory_0. This happens before anything is read (even from memory_0 itself).

So the data in memory_0 has been computed only on the basis of individual inputs like ("a," 2). It can't leverage any information about multiple words and how they relate to one another.

But just after the write to memory_0, there's a read from memory_0. This read pulls in data computed by f when it ran on all the earlier words in the sequence.

If we're processing ("a", 2) in our example, then this is the point where our code is first able to access facts like "the word 'Fido' appeared earlier in the text."

However, we still know less than we might prefer.

Recall that memory_0 gets written before anything gets read. The data living there only reflects what f knows before it can see all the other words, while it still only has access to the one word that appeared in its input.

The data we've just read does not contain a holistic, "fully processed" representation of the whole sequence so far ("Fido is a"). Instead, it contains:

a representation of ("Fido", 0) alone, computed in ignorance of the rest of the text

a representation of ("is", 1) alone, computed in ignorance of the rest of the text

a representation of ("a", 2) alone, computed in ignorance of the rest of the text

Now, once we get to memory_1, we will no longer face this problem. Stuff in memory_1 gets computed with the benefit of whatever was in memory_0. The step that computes it can "see all the words at once."

Nonetheless, the whole function is affected by a generalized version of the same quirk.

All else being equal, data stored in later blocks ought to be more useful. Suppose for instance that

memory_4 gets read/written 20% of the way through the function body, and

memory_16 gets read/written 80% of the way through the function body

Here, strictly more computation can be leveraged to produce the data in memory_16. Calculations which are simple enough to fit in the program, but too complex to fit in just 20% of the program, can be stored in memory_16 but not in memory_4.

All else being equal, then, we'd prefer to read from memory_16 rather than memory_4 if possible.

But in fact, we can only read from memory_16 once -- at a point 80% of the way through the code, when the read/write happens for that block.

The general picture looks like:

The early parts of the function can see and leverage what got computed earlier in the sequence -- by the same early parts of the function. This data is relatively "weak," since not much computation went into it. But, by the same token, we have plenty of time to further process it.

The late parts of the function can see and leverage what got computed earlier in the sequence -- by the same late parts of the function. This data is relatively "strong," since lots of computation went into it. But, by the same token, we don't have much time left to further process it.

3. why?

There are multiple ways you can "run" the program specified by f.

Here's one way, which is used when generating text, and which matches popular intuitions about how language models work:

First, we run f("Fido", 0) from start to end. The function returns "is." As a side effect, it populates cell 0 of every memory block.

Next, we run f("is", 1) from start to end. The function returns "a." As a side effect, it populates cell 1 of every memory block.

Etc.

If we're running the code like this, the constraints described earlier feel weird and pointlessly restrictive.

By the time we're running f("is", 1), we've already populated some data into every memory block, all the way up to memory_16 or whatever.

This data is already there, and contains lots of useful insights.

And yet, during the function call f("is", 1), we "forget about" this data -- only to progressively remember it again, block by block. The early parts of this call have only memory_0 to play with, and then memory_1, etc. Only at the end do we allow access to the juicy, extensively processed results that occupy the final blocks.

Why? Why not just let this call read memory_16 immediately, on the first line of code? The data is sitting there, ready to be used!

Why? Because the constraint enables a second way of running this program.

The second way is equivalent to the first, in the sense of producing the same outputs. But instead of processing one word at a time, it processes a whole sequence of words, in parallel.

Here's how it works:

In parallel, run f("Fido", 0) and f("is", 1) and f("a", 2), up until the first write+read instruction. You can do this because the functions are causally independent of one another, up to this point. We now have 3 copies of f, each at the same "line of code": the first write+read instruction.

Perform the write part of the instruction for all the copies, in parallel. This populates cells 0, 1 and 2 of memory_0.

Perform the read part of the instruction for all the copies, in parallel. Each copy of f receives some of the data just written to memory_0, covering offsets up to its own. For instance, f("is", 1) gets data from cells 0 and 1.

In parallel, continue running the 3 copies of f, covering the code between the first write+read instruction and the second.

Perform the second write. This populates cells 0, 1 and 2 of memory_1.

Perform the second read.

Repeat like this until done.

Observe that mode of operation only works if you have a complete input sequence ready before you run anything.

(You can't parallelize over later positions in the sequence if you don't know, yet, what words they contain.)

So, this won't work when the model is generating text, word by word.

But it will work if you have a bunch of texts, and you want to process those texts with the model, for the sake of updating the model so it does a better job of predicting them.

This is called "training," and it's how neural nets get made in the first place. In our programming analogy, it's how the code inside the function body gets written.

The fact that we can train in parallel over the sequence is a huge deal, and probably accounts for most (or even all) of the benefit that transformers have over earlier architectures like RNNs.

Accelerators like GPUs are really good at doing the kinds of calculations that happen inside neural nets, in parallel.

So if you can make your training process more parallel, you can effectively multiply the computing power available to it, for free. (I'm omitting many caveats here -- see this great post for details.)

Transformer training isn't maximally parallel. It's still sequential in one "dimension," namely the layers, which correspond to our write+read steps here. You can't parallelize those.

But it is, at least, parallel along some dimension, namely the sequence dimension.

The older RNN architecture, by contrast, was inherently sequential along both these dimensions. Training an RNN is, effectively, a nested for loop. But training a transformer is just a regular, single for loop.

4. tying it together

The "magical" thing about this setup is that both ways of running the model do the same thing. You are, literally, doing the same exact computation. The function can't tell whether it is being run one way or the other.

This is crucial, because we want the training process -- which uses the parallel mode -- to teach the model how to perform generation, which uses the sequential mode. Since both modes look the same from the model's perspective, this works.

This constraint -- that the code can run in parallel over the sequence, and that this must do the same thing as running it sequentially -- is the reason for everything else we noted above.

Earlier, we asked: why can't we allow later (in the sequence) invocations of f to read earlier data out of blocks like memory_16 immediately, on "the first line of code"?

And the answer is: because that would break parallelism. You'd have to run f("Fido", 0) all the way through before even starting to run f("is", 1).

By structuring the computation in this specific way, we provide the model with the benefits of recurrence -- writing things down at earlier positions, accessing them at later positions, and writing further things down which can be accessed even later -- while breaking the sequential dependencies that would ordinarily prevent a recurrent calculation from being executed in parallel.

In other words, we've found a way to create an iterative function that takes its own outputs as input -- and does so repeatedly, producing longer and longer outputs to be read off by its next invocation -- with the property that this iteration can be run in parallel.

We can run the first 10% of every iteration -- of f() and f(f()) and f(f(f())) and so on -- at the same time, before we know what will happen in the later stages of any iteration.

The call f(f()) uses all the information handed to it by f() -- eventually. But it cannot make any requests for information that would leave itself idling, waiting for f() to fully complete.

Whenever f(f()) needs a value computed by f(), it is always the value that f() -- running alongside f(f()), simultaneously -- has just written down, a mere moment ago.

No dead time, no idling, no waiting-for-the-other-guy-to-finish.

p.s.

The "memory blocks" here correspond to what are called "keys and values" in usual transformer lingo.

If you've heard the term "KV cache," it refers to the contents of the memory blocks during generation, when we're running in "sequential mode."

Usually, during generation, one keeps this state in memory and appends a new cell to each block whenever a new token is generated (and, as a result, the sequence gets longer by 1).

This is called "caching" to contrast it with the worse approach of throwing away the block contents after each generated token, and then re-generating them by running f on the whole sequence so far (not just the latest token). And then having to do that over and over, once per generated token.

#ai tag #is there some standard CS name for the thing i'm talking about here?#i feel like there should be #but i never heard people mention it #(or at least i've never heard people mention it in a way that made the connection with transformers clear)

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blues824 · 1 year

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Hello! I stumbled across your blog and saw you too request for obey me if you don't mind may I get the obey me side characters with a Belial reader?

Belial is a fallen angel—and one of the first primal beasts ever brought into being. He is the manifestation of cunning, earning him the sobriquet "Serpent." He plays dirty and is irreverent, and his mind swims in the gutter.

The only man he respects is his own creator, Lucilius, to whom he has given the pet name "Cilius."

After wresting the Versus Core from Beelzebub's grasp, Belial plunged it into his own body, transforming into Avatar Belial. He now wields the powers of a deity, but he is and will always be set on one thing: the resurrection of Lucilius.

But for a fallen angel, the taste of unlimited power is both more exhilarating and dangerous than any wine. Now that Belial has been intoxicated with destructive impulse, there may be nothing that can stop him from obliterating the skies—not even the decay of his own body.

Belial's specials are named after elements of demonology and Hebrew mythology.

Belial

Belial (ベリアル, Beriaru) is one of the main villains in Granblue Fantasy Versus

Gender-neutral Reader

Diavolo

At first, he was concerned about if you would make a good candidate for the exchange student program, but you proved yourself capable academics-wise

But, as you got more comfortable, you were starting to really show your personality more and more, and Diavolo grew more worried

The only guy you had respect for was your creator, who was long gone at this point and was very dangerous anyway

However, as he got to know you better, you started flirting with him, and some of the things you were saying were incredibly dirty

It doesn’t matter, since he does retaliate with filthy words of his own, and it makes everyone around you gag or blush

Barbatos

Upon reviewing your student profile, he was definitely concerned not just for RAD, but for the Devildom as a whole

You were both cunning and clever, often leveling with Barbatos. Not gonna lie, whenever you showed him up, he found it attractive

But, he didn’t appreciate the fact that you didn’t respect anyone else besides your creator who wasn’t in the Devildom

Then, he got to know you more and more, and that’s when the flirting began from both sides.

Oh, the others are all so flustered whenever you both go back and forth, but it doesn’t matter to either of you. Of course, you don’t do it in public.

Solomon

He has heard of you, since you were a very popular fallen angel, and he knew of your destructive and power-hungry tendencies

You both were cunning and clever, but instead of going against each other you built each other up.

Solomon honestly didn’t care if you didn’t respect the others. There was a boundary, but as long as you didn’t cross it it was actually amusing

Once the flirting starts, he does get a bit flustered. However, he is not afraid to give it to you right back.

There is no point where it gets too far between the two of you. Both of your minds are always in the gutter, so it’s a way to sooth that urge a bit

Simeon

You were one of his fellow angels in the Celestial Realm, but your creator (Lucilius) was on Lilith’s side of the war, so you followed and fell

The personalities of you both tend to clash a bit, since he remains respectful towards everyone but you don’t

Luke absolutely despises you because you always call him ‘Fido’ and ‘Chihuahua’, but this is amusing to the older archangel

Break out the flirting as you sit with Simeon while he’s writing. He will definitely mess up the word he was typing

But, be warned that now he has to punish you for making him make a mistake. If your mind is as dirty as mine, you are more than welcome to write a fic as a sequel

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maximons · 2 years

Text

Good Boy

Summary: Y/n and Wanda’s relationship was pretty much nonexistent after their break up, or at least it would be if they didn’t share custody of their dog, Fido.

Word Count: 3,256

Genre: Angst w/ a happy ending

Requested?: No

Warnings: Injury of an animal, Mentions of emotional cheating, Mentions of sex

A/N: To the five people that missed me, I’m baccck! I wanted to write at least one more Wanda fic before she breaks our hearts again this week. I hope you guys enjoy!

---------------------------------------------------

Your break up with Wanda was...messy to say the least. You weren’t oblivious to the problems you two had, you kinda saw the breakup coming, but still.

Between you being ‘the most stubborn person in the galaxy’ Wanda’s words which happened to cause multiple bad decisions that led to fights, and Wanda having this “connection” with the resident robot of the Avengers, it was only a matter of time.

After one two many screaming matches that lasted till 2 am, you two called it quits.

Fast forward a few months, and now Wanda was together with the toaster, while you swore off commitment for the foreseeable future and opted to bring home any girl that you could. Neither one of you was happy with the other’s next step, but of course neither one of you said anything.

In fact, the only reason you two still interacted at all was because you were teammates that lived in the same compound. Sometimes it was inevitable for the greater good to be civil, but beyond that, you had no reason to talk.

...Well, there was one other reason. Your dog, Fido.

Look, Wanda was a sucker for cliches, and there was a time where you couldn’t imagine saying no to her, so of course the dog’s name was Fido.

You and Wanda decided to adopt a puppy about a year into your relationship. It seemed like a good idea at the time. Considering the life as an Avenger wasn’t ideal for parenting children, you both figured a dog would be a good substitute, for that time being anyway.

Truth be told, you didn’t think it’d be a complicated issue when you broke up. You just assumed you’d keep Fido. Wanda wanted a fresh new start with Vision, right? Why would she want to take the dog you shared into that?

Well, Wanda just about slapped you when you said that. She loved that dog just as much as you did.

So somehow, without actually having children, you have an custody arrangement going on.

You get Fido Monday evening through Thursday afternoon, and Wanda got him Thursday evening to the next Monday afternoon.

It was awkward as hell for the first few weeks, but by now, you just considered it part of your routine. You and Wanda simply exchanged polite smiles, told each other anything the other might need to know, and went about your day after dropping him off. Simple as that.

Well, of course nothing’s simple in your life for too long.

One Monday, you had the pleasure of waking up to loud banging at your door.

You shot awake and sat up quickly at the loud noise. Taking a second to rub your eyes and adjust to the reality around you apparently wasn’t allowed as the banging started up again.

“Hold on!” You shouted back at the source as you scrambled and practically fell out of bed. Three more bangs commenced before you got to your door and yanked it open. You couldn’t help but roll your eyes at the woman who’s fist was paused in mid air. “Jesus, what the hell?”

“I should be saying that.” Your ex responded simply. It was only then that you noticed the leash in her hand, Fido attached. “You were supposed to pick him up hours ago.”

“What, can’t handle some extra time with him? Aren’t you a loving mother.” You said sarcastically as you took the leash from her hand. “I don’t pick him up till noon anyway.”

“It’s 3, Y/n.” Wanda deadpanned. You raised your brows at the information.

“Oh, shit for real?”

“Yes. Maybe you’d be up at a decent hour if you weren’t coming back home at 5 am.”

“Aww, are you paying attention to me again?” You couldn’t help the teasing smile that spread across your face. Wanda simply rolled her eyes.

“Kind of hard not to when you almost trip the alarm system.”

“I thought your boyfriend’s name was Vision.” You teased again, and that was enough for Wanda to no longer want to be in your presence.

“You’re an asshole.” She shot at you before storming off. “Don’t forget his vet appointment on Wednesday!” She shouted over her shoulder as she was halfway down the hall.

“Fido’s or Vision’s?” You shouted back. She didn’t respond verbally, but knew she heard you when she threw you the finger. You chuckled as she turned down the hall and out of sight.

---------------------------------------------

You hadn’t seen Wanda since then, and your week with Fido had been going as normal. Outside of the vet appointment, that seemed to go pretty well, everything was business as usual.

So you were extremely confused when the familiar banging returned on Thursday morning.

“What the fuck?” You whispered to yourself as you walked to your door to yank it open yet again. “You know other people live here, right?”

The rhetorical question was ignored as Wanda got right to the point of what was pissing her off. “You slept with the vet!?”

To say you were taken aback would be an understatement. Outside of the obvious embarrassment of her airing out your business in the hallway, you were confused. You and Wanda haven’t talked at all about your sex life, and seeing as she had a boyfriend now, you didn’t know why she cared.

You blinked a few times, trying to gather your thoughts, but that was too long for Wanda’s liking. “Well!?”

You jumped back at her sudden shout. “Shit, calm down, just come in.” You rushed her in your room before she yelled anything else out. She, surprisingly, didn’t put up a fight and entered. You closed the door behind her. “What are you yelling about?”

“Sorry, did I not ask you loudly enough the first time?” Wanda crossed her arms, looking at you for an explanation.

“Yeah, no, you definitely did. Just don’t know why.”

“It’s a conflict of interest.”

“What interests are being conflicted here?”

“The interests of our chil-” Wanda coughed to cover up her mistake, but you caught it. “For Fido.”

“Uh huh.” You raised a brow, unimpressed.

“Look, I know you can’t keep it in your pants, but stick to the sluts you pick up at the bar. Not the vet.”

Your eyes widened at what she said. Now you were pissed right along with her.

“Okay, first off, the vet’s a dude. If you paid any fucking attention to anything outside of the brave little toaster, you’d know that. I slept with the receptionist.”

“I don’t-”

“Second off.” You cut her off. “You have no right commenting on my sex life or who I decide to spend my time with. Last I checked, we’re broken up. And I seem to remember you wasting no time jumping right into the arms of Robo-boy.”

“Oh, get over it already, Y/n!” Wanda’s voice rose at this point, this was not how she was seeing this conversation going. If you can call her going up to your room seeing literal red a ‘conversation’.

“There is no way in hell I’m ever going to get over that!” You shouted out, which shut Wanda up. You’ve yelled before, but every word that you just shouted out was laced with...something she hasn’t seen from you in a while. Genuine emotion.

Before you knew it, or could stop yourself, you continued. “You just went right to him. After months and months of you trying to convince me I was crazy for seeing what I saw.” You softened your voice at this point, but Wanda was still listening with rapt attention. “I mean, you convinced me to trust you time and again, but the second you got the chance, guess who you ran straight to? Honestly, It’s hard to believe something wasn’t going on beforehand.”

“Y/n, nothing happened between Vision and I before we broke up.” Wanda said sincerely.

“Even if it wasn’t physical, emotional cheating is still a thing.” Wanda paused at that. “I don’t think you can deny that one.”

“I...I don’t-”

“Yeah.” You said simply before quickly regaining your composure. Wanda watched as you quickly rebuilt all the walls you temporarily brought down. You started busying yourself getting Fido’s thing’s together, just so you didn’t have to look at her anymore. “So, yeah, forgive me for just wanting to find temporary company every once in a while. If I wanna fuck the receptionist, I’m gonna fuck the receptionist.”

“Ugh, you’re disgusting.” Wanda rolled her eyes in disgust, hoping to disguise the hurt beneath the surface.

“Yeah, I’m a lot of things.” You clipped the leash onto Fido before holding it out. “Since you’re here anyway, you can take him.”

Wanda sighed. “Fine.”

“Yeah, see you Monday.” You closed the door the second she left, almost hitting her ass in doing so, but you didn’t care. You were too busy trying to breathe.

You didn’t know that Wanda was on the other side of the door trying to do the same.

-------------------------------------------------

Two days had passed since then, and you felt a little better. You couldn’t deny it felt good letting out something that had bothered you so deeply, but you couldn’t help but wonder how things would be like with Wanda now. You haven’t talked since that day, so things were going per usual as of now, but come Monday, you’d be facing the music.

It was the middle of the night on Saturday when your phone rang. You were halfway passed out, so you were a little annoyed at the interruption, but reached out for the device regardless. Your brows furrowed when Wanda’s contact name appeared on screen. You figured she butt dialed you, but you hit answer anyway.

“Hello?”

“Y/n?” Came the worried reply. Okay, definitely not a butt dial. “Sorry for calling you so late, but I think something’s wrong with Fido.”

That woke you up. You opened your eyes and sat up. “What do you mean, what happened?”

“I don’t know, he was perfectly fine one minute, and then I turn around for two seconds and hear a thud. He’s laying on the ground and is whimpering, but I don’t think he can move.”

“Have you tried picking him up?”

“He won’t let me near him without growling.” You could hear Wanda’s panic grow with each word.

“Okay, okay, don’t touch him but don’t take your eyes off him. I’ll be there in a second.” You prepared yourself to use your powers to teleport to where she is, but her voice cuts you off.

“Wait, wait! I’m in my old room... not Vision’s.”

That gave you pause. You knew Wanda moved into her boyfriend's room about a month ago, that’s where you dropped Fido off the last few weeks. “Wha-”

“Don’t ask right now, just get here.” You would’ve asked anyway under normal circumstances, but you agreed now wasn’t the time. You focused your thoughts on what you remembered Wanda’s room to look like, and in the blink of an eye you were there.

Wanda sat at the edge of her bed while looking at Fido, who laid only a few inches away. You tried to make your way to him, but as Wanda had said, he growled when you got too close. You spotted some crashed knick knacks strewn about, along with a half crashed down shelf, and could put two and two together.

“I think he might’ve crashed into your shelf and it collapsed on him. From what I can tell, his leg is broken, but we gotta get him to someone that actually knows what they’re talking about.” You pulled out your phone. “There’s probably some 24 hour animal hospitals by here, lemme look.”

“How are we going get him there? He won’t let either of us near.”

You thought for a second while you continued your search. “I don’t think I can teleport us there without risking further damage, but your magic is precise enough that you can pick him up to get him to a car.”

That caught Wanda’s attention, her eyes snapping to you. “Wha-, you don’t think I’ll screw anything up? Hurt him more?”

You finally looked up from your phone, eyes locking with Wanda’s at her statement. You shook your head gently. “No, of course not. I know you aren’t the biggest fan of your powers sometimes, but I know you and you can be delicate when you want to be. There’s no doubt you can get him there.” You looked back down at your phone, missing the small smile on Wanda’s face.

She never stopped believing in me.

Her thoughts were interrupted when you let out a happy shout. “Got one! Only five miles out, we can get there in like 15 minutes. We’ll take Nat’s car.”

Wanda gave you a look. “You know she hates it when you take her car.”

“Yeah, but when she finds out it was for Fido, she’ll live. She’s like an uncle to him.” You said with a small smirk. Wanda knew you were using the opportunity to drive Nat’s car, but decided not to comment. “Okay, you’re up.” You said, telling her to pick up Fido.

She takes a breath before putting her hands out. Red magic surrounded him, and after a second he was gently lifted a few feet off the ground. Fido looked calm, head still curled up resting in his lap.

“Told ya.” You whispered with a smile. You and Wanda’s eyes locked, and a moment passed between you, before you got back to the task at hand. “Alright, let’s go.” You opened the door, letting a floating Fido and Wanda go first.

--------------------------------------------------

The two of you sat in silence in the hospital waiting room, patiently waiting for any news on Fido. You had to guess it’s only been about ten minutes or so, but the awkward silence paired with the otherwise empty waiting room, it felt like hours.

“It’s my fault.” If it weren’t for the dead silence, you wouldn’t have heard the whispered words from the woman next to you.

“No, don’t beat yourself up. It won’t do any of us any good.” You started, trying to comfort her the best way you knew how given your tentative relationship. “It could’ve happened to anyone, the important thing is you made sure we got him where he needed to be.”

Wanda spared you a quick glance and nodded, seemingly accepting what you were saying. “Thanks, Y/n.”

“Yeah.” You acknowledged. A few more moments of silence passed, before you decided to break the tension again. “You’ve never been the best with tools anyway, what were you doing trying to build furniture?”

Your teasing tone was more lighthearted than the teasing Wanda was used to from you in recent months, and she couldn’t help but smile slightly at it. She nudge you with her knee in response. “Shut up.” She said with a laugh, causing you to chuckle with her.

The two of you fell into silence again. This time, Wanda broke it with a sigh. “I didn’t just mean Fido getting hurt was my fault though.” You looked over to Wanda, but didn’t say a word, letting her continue. “Everything that happened with us...that was all me. You didn’t deserve any of this.”

I guess we’re doing this now. You thought. A conversation about your last blow up was bound to happen at some point. You didn’t expect her to take this much responsibility though. You tried to find the words to say. “I...”

“Vision and I broke up.” She declared suddenly, throwing you into more shock than you already were.

“Oh.” Was all you can think of to say to that. You cant pretend you were sad about it, but you weren’t about to rub Wanda’s heartbreak in her face. You’re not that cruel.

“I never...” Wanda braced herself with a sigh before continuing. “I honestly never felt for him what I felt...feel for you.”

You took a minute to gather your thoughts before finally responding. “I don’t...so why did you leave him for me essentially?”

“Vis and I talked about that. I didn’t understand the draw I had to him, because o be honest, my relationship with him just never felt right. I only ever felt drawn to him when I was near him, but when I was away from him, all I ever thought about was you. He told me he felt similar- not the thinking about you part, but you get what I mean.”

“Yeah, he’s not exactly my type.” You whispered out jokingly, and Wanda couldn’t help but chuckle.

“We think it had to do with both of our connection to the mind stone.” Wanda sighed sadly again, thinking about how everything unraveled. “I know nothing I say will ever excuse this...I made a terrible call, and I don’t think I can apologize enough for lying and hurting you the way I have. I’m so sorry, Y/n. I know it’s insanely selfish of me to ask for another chance, but...I couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t try.” She finished, and you didn’t know what to think. It makes sense in theory, and Wanda seemed genuine, but how are you ever supposed to trust her again?

“Okay...” You started. “But the mind stone is still in Vision’s head and still the source of your powers, that isn’t changing, so how do I know you won’t run off with him again?”

“Our connection isn’t romantic, we unfortunately had to take the hard road to figure that out, but I know that for sure. I can’t blame you for not trusting it though, but if you let me, I’m willing to try to prove to you how much I still love you, Y/n...you and only you.” Wanda took a chance and reached her hand to cover yours. You didn’t pull away.

“I-”

“Fido Maximoff?” You were cut off by the vet’s voice entering the room, you both looked up and stood, almost breathing a sigh of relief when Fido was pushed out in a small cart. “He’s gonna be okay. He suffered a fracture on his right front leg, but it’s not serious enough to require surgery. He’ll have to remain in the splint for a few weeks with little mobility, but he’ll be back to normal in no time.”

You both couldn’t help but smile at the news. “Thank you so much, doctor.” You thanked. He nodded with a smile and left.

After taking a few moments to greet Fido, who thankfully was no longer hostile to the two of you, you looked back at each other. “Look, I...” You started, taking a deep breath to gather your thoughts. “I never stopped loving you too, but I can’t just jump right back into the way things were.”

Wanda nodded sadly. “I understand.”

“But...” You continued. “I wouldn’t be opposed to taking it slow?” You asked shyly. Wanda looked back up at you and smiled. “I think Fido should stay in my room tonight, probably with both of his parents there.”

Wanda tilted her head in confusion, but a smile still on her face. “What happened to taking it slow?”

“Mind out of the gutter Maximoff, I just meant sleep.” You laughed as you pushed the cart outside to the car.

It would take a while, but you were sure you were making the right choice. There wasn’t anyone else for you than Wanda.

And in a weird twisted way, you couldn’t help but thank Fido for bringing her back to you.

#wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x you

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fidothefinch · 3 months

Text

“Hmm, too long.” The tech, Lisa, pinched the bulging satin at the back of Cass’s heel. “See this? It means the heel will slip off when you go up en pointe. I have something else though. . . “

Cass nodded, heart fluttering with nerves-excitement. While Lisa turned back to the wall of shelving, she slipped the pointe shoes off and packed them back up with reverence.

Bruce watched silently from another chair, learning just as much today as Cass was.

Lisa returned with three new boxes in tow. “Try these,” she said, passing one of them over. “They’re shorter, and the box is more tapered, so you’re less likely to sink into them when you go up.”

Cass opened the next box and adjusted her toe pad before pulling on the next pointe shoe. The slightly rough canvas on the inside gripped the tights-sock they had given her, and the tough frame of the “box” hugged the knuckles where her toes met her feet. She sat back, letting Lisa check, and with a nod of approval she stood.

It was odd, standing in pointe shoes. The bottoms were slightly beveled, making her ankles and feet work harder to keep balance.

“How does it feel?” Lisa asked.

“Good?” Cass shrugged, not looking up from her feet. Her toes barely touched the end of the shoe. Was that right?

“Okay.” Lisa seemed to study her feet a moment longer, before nodding to herself. “Step up, parallel.”

Cass followed her to the small barre and mirror at the end of the fitting room. Gently, she stepped up one foot, letting her weight fall down into her toes, then repeated with the other foot. It was a new sensation, but the box helped support her weight.

“Hmm,” Lisa said. “You’ve got a pretty high arch.”

Cass nodded. “Banana feet,” she offered. It’s what her ballet teacher had told her.

“The shank,” Lisa said, kneeling next to Cass and tapping the bottoms of her feet, “acts as extra support for the feet. This shoe has a flexible shank, which is what schools usually like for beginners. You may benefit from the support a harder shank can give.”

Cass nodded solemnly.

Bruce made a small sound, and Cass darted her eyes toward him in the mirror. “Something wrong?” she asked, suddenly concerned. She lowered her heels, and the pressure released off her toes was such an odd sensation.

Bruce shook his head quickly. “No.” His head tilted to the side, and his body language shifted to soft-love-proud. “You’re a ballerina,” he said.

Cass beamed. She stepped up again, finding her balance and lifting her arms up above her head. She had watched dancers on stage with awe. They were graceful, lighter than air, stronger than steel. Confident in every movement and gesture; the smallest details performed with intention. Beautiful movement.

And she glowed, as she saw it in all herself.

#batfam #cassandra cain #batman #dc comics #ballet #fido writes #these drabble prompts in the discord are keeping me sane during winter weather

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chicagolive · 13 days

Text

@wemadethishome thank you for tagging me, hun!!

Rules: write one song for every letter in your url, and then tag as many people as there are letters in your url.

H: Hallucinations- DVSN

O: Ojitos Lindos- Bad Bunny

L: Lunchbox Friends- Melanie Martinez

D: Deep Diving- The Snuts

I: Inertia- AJR

N: Need Me- Meet Me @ the Alter

G: Get Busy Living or Get Busy Dying- Fall Out Boy

O: Old Wounds- PVRIS

N: Never Enough- One Direction

T: This Hell- Rina Sawayama

O: Overdrive- Conan Grey

H: Holding onto Heartache- Louis Tomlinson 🤍

E: El Tiburón- Alexis y Fido

A: All Day All Night- SHINee

D: Drunk on the Mic- Mickey Shiloh

A: Adore You- Harry Styles

C: Calma (Remix)- Pedro Capó y Farruko

H: Hand of God- Jon Bellion

E: Even Robots Need Blankets- Mayday Parade

Tagging the lovelies (no pressure): @ms-softgoods @quickpauseinconversations @tommos @redpantslouis @walkinginsunflowers @pop-punklouis @sunkissedlouis @stonerosestank @sthabit @louisarmpits and anyone else who wants to do it! ✨

#🎶#tag games

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warmerthanhotcoco · 1 year

Note

Hi if ur able to, can you PLEASE PLEASE do an Imagine or headcannon of if Newt Scamander suddenly got powers like Spider-Man? From an accident with an acromantula that he was dealing with or something lol! I’ve had this idea forever but don’t have enough creativity <3

I can protect you now

Tags: Newt Scamander/You, Fluff, Spiderman AU, Outdoor-café dates, Astronomy Tower dates, Slytherin reader, Established Relationship, Boyfriend material-Newt Scamander

Summary: Newt, your adorable animal-obsessed Hufflepuff boyfriend, faced a mishap with a young acromantula in the Forbidden Forest. For some godforsaken reason all he got instead of venom... were the magical spider's abilities. Thank Merlin you're around to help him through it all.

A/N: Ron Weasley's nightmare. ANON I LOVE YOU SO MUCH- This is perhaps the craziest, coolest idea and I'm all here for it! Sorry it took bloody long (writing block hits hard in college)! I was in dire need of Newt fluff and one daydream later your Ask blossomed in my Notepad.

You asked for an imagine/headcanon but hey- I'm famous IRL for turning a tiny idea into a frigging novel so haha, hope ya like it, here we go! This will have two parts, the first one here being more fluff, and the second tomorrow being more action laced with fluff. Can't write Spidey-Newt without a single decent fight! See ya 'morrow xx

Part 1/2

The moon was partly hidden by the clouds, its silver light hazy, trickling along the marble floor of the Astronomy Tower. The stars weren't around today: it had been a very boring day, and was now a very boring night. The perfect night to invite your boyfriend for a midnight chat over Firewhiskey and Chocolate Frogs: he always rambled about his favourite creatures for hours on end.

Boredom was Newt Scamander's sole enemy.

The little wooden door to the Tower opened and shut with a creak.

"What took you so long?" you held out a Chocolate Frog. "It's almost 1 in the morning, love."

"I was... working." He evaded your gaze as he settled on the floor beside you, snuggling close for warmth.

"You did mention homework but your hair is as messy as your shirt and is that dirt on your trous— Goodness you're cold!"

"A-Am I?"

"...Newton Artemis Fido Scamander. I know that face. What did you do? Which animal did you kidnap to help heal it this time?"

"I-" he blinked in surprise before bursting into a string of soft chuckles. "I didn't kidnap anyone! It was more him kidnapping me this time..."

"Oh for Salazar's sake, what happened?" You gripped and shook him by the arm. He looked down at the spot where your legs were tangled together, anxiously biting the inside of his cheek. "Please talk to me," you pleaded, gentler.

Silently, he slid his hand up to his neck and tapped his nape. You frowned, leaning over his shoulder to check.

There were two round red marks on his skin, at least a millimetre deep. The skin around the wound was a brilliant sore pink.

You smacked his head with a hiss. "You dunce! I've been warning you for years against chatting up wild animals. You kept asking why, huh? This is why!" You raked your fingers through his hair, rubbing the spot you hit: not that you regretted but maybe it hurt a little bit. He subtly leant into the touch. “Get up, now."

"Why?"

"To take you to the matron. You’re lucky that’s my aunt.”

"I really don't think that's necessary..."

"But I do, so get up. Exactly what bit you?"

"..."

"Newt..."

"Acromantula."

"...A what?!"

"It was only a young one..."

"You could have been killed!"

"He was wounded..."

“Or eaten alive!" Your hand covered his neck protectively. "What were you thinking?"

"They usually don't attack me when I help..."

"It's a bloody acromantula, Newt— Tsk, forget it." You didn't want to make him feel worse, so you pulled him to his feet, pecked his cheek with a whisper of "Sorry I yelled" and dragged him down the stairs to the hospital wing.

It had been three weeks since, and the summer holidays had begun. Newt was growing unusually quieter in his letters, and had skipped a coffee date last week. You were wondering what he was up to now, when an owl pecked angrily at the window. "Oh, so sorry, love," you opened the glass to let her in. "Did he reply?"

The barn owl opened her beak and dropped the tiniest box onto your palms. You tossed her a treat and picked up the box. Realising it was indeed heavy for something so small, you swished your wand at the box to enlarge it.

No wonder your owl looked so pissed: the box was huge and Newt had probably only managed one lightening charm.

You blinked at the glittery green wrapping. The little scroll at the top held only two sentences within.

I'm afraid I can't explain everything on paper. Tomorrow, 5, same place?

So he did like it after all, you smirked, recalling your date the last holiday. With a flick of your wand, the gift-wrap (he sure knew how to make a Slytherin happy) came undone and the box popped open.

Just a small apology. The words on the paper in the box had been cut through multiple times: attempted and re-written a dozen times.

But the gift was no small deal. Inside the box was... the prettiest autumn dress. All apple green chiffon, with cotton lace that boasted the finest little floral designs. No matter what anybody said, Newt Scamander was a man of taste.

You were early.

Okay, let’s be honest, you were at the café almost an hour early. Not your fault you were worried sick over your suspiciously secretive dearest.

About twenty minutes to three, the chair before you tumbled backwards. “Well hello.”

“You’re early.”

“So are you,” you smirked at the extremely clumsy but elegant Hufflepuff towering over you at the table. He may not be on the team but he was taller and (despite trying to hide it with a dozen layers of clothing) fitter than you — and you were a Slytherin Chaser. Newt was dressed in a dark teal shirt and khaki slacks: perfectly complementing your gown and reflecting his hair and ocean eyes. “You know, what you lack in asking-out skills, you make up for in your style,” you grinned. “Sit down already.”

“Thanks,” he mumbled, making himself comfortable. “I asked for two Butterbeers and cakes for now, is that…” he asked slowly, pausing between words.

He was controlling his stutter. But his stutter hadn’t appeared for months now, with your help… Something was definitely wrong.

“Yep, perfect for now,” you looked around the outdoor-café. It was an inn full of open space: like if the Leaky Cauldron was in Lancashire and had a Hogwarts grounds-sized garden. The grass was fresh enough for Newt’s little friend to walk around in, and the Hippogriff and Thunderbird statues around the fountain were fine granite. It was no wonder it had grown into your date venue and study spot. “Less crowded today.”

Newt nodded, clearly relieved about it. Only after the order arrived did he speak. “Y/n… S-Sorry.”

“Newt, I told you over a dozen letters, it’s alright. Now that I know you’re healthy and well, it really is alright.”

He nodded, grateful.

“But an apology won’t save you from explanations.”

He swallowed hard, fingers drawing distracted patterns on the table. “I…”

“One sip and a deep breath, love,” you slid your hand close to his, fingers intertwining.

He obeyed immediately, eyes still avoiding yours. “Prom… Promise you won’t be mad.”

“I’ll try,” you sighed.

Finally he met your gaze: his bright blue eyes were pleading. “Promise.”

“Alright, fine, IswearonyourBowtruckleIshallnotbemad, now spill!”

“Do you… remember the acromantula?” You nodded impatiently. “Well.” He turned away from the table and fixed his eyes on one of the table legs. He raised his right hand and flicked his fingers at the table — Zap! A bright cobweb wrapped around the leg so fast you nearly missed the string that shot out of his wrist. Newt cleared his throat to break the silence that ensued. “I… still don’t know how to undo it. Too sticky.”

You forced your open jaw shut and frowned, perplexed. “Newt, what in Merlin’s name was that?”

“Acromantulas have two prominent defence skills. Venom. And they can trap victims in a cobweb at lightning speed. The web wraps around the target… it’s sticky, lasts long enough for the acromantula to consume its prey.” Not once did he stutter: he was doing what he loved and was best at. “At least I don’t have the venom.”

“So you’re a human spider now.” You gulped down Butterbeer to ease your blood pressure.

“…S-Something like that.”

“Hey,” you took both hands, thumbs rubbing his wrists. “Relax. I’m not mad, nor disgusted. Just a little… confused. This isn’t supposed to be possible.” You shook your head, lifting one hand to kiss the knuckles. “But we’ll figure it out, hm? Hogwarts Library, bribing the CoMC professor, breaking into the Ministry's records…" His eyes grew wider and wider at every suggestion. "We’ll figure it out. And for now, we could take a trip to my aunt’s place.” He gripped your hand, alarmed. “Not to tell her everything but to have you checked for poison. This looks fun but I need to know you’re safe.”

A small half-smile played at his lips, a soft sigh washing over your face as he leant forth to kiss your forehead. “I am safe. I was… scared. Thank you,” he whispered.

“If you thought you’d get rid of me just from this, keep dreaming, spider-boy,” you laughed.

He grinned, leaning back into his seat and diving into the cake.

“Aren’t acromantulas also known for their intelligence?”

“Mhm.”

“Let’s hope your Potions grades go up then.”

He burst into laughter, grabbing the serviette to wipe the icing all over his mouth. “Perhaps.” As the laughter faded, he stared at you, eyes soft and crinkled at the tips. “The part that I-I like the most about this is…”

“Hmm?”

“…I can protect you now.”

You sucked in a gasp, images of the group of Gryffindor bullies flashing through your mind. All the times Newt had caught you running late to dates with a black eye… “I guess so.” You wordlessly thanked him with a chaste kiss.

He tasted of vanilla frosting.

#fantastic beasts #harry potter fluff #hogwarts fluff #newt scamander fluff #newt scamander x you #newt scamander x reader #newt scamander x slytherin reader #hufflepuff x slytherin #acromantula #spiderman au #newt scamander is a man of taste #he stutters but it's cute #he's an idiot but he's beautiful #harry potter x you #fantastic beasts x reader

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riorangedeezguts · 2 months

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(9> make em seethe, I'm playing with fire here lmao)

Okay, so your name's Rio Ranger...

But like... as in the term to arrange?

Just like how you rearrange your clothing with those of the deceased to appear more human for your liking? :)

Along with how you keeping switching those cards to rearrange your facial features and mimic a smile because you're physically incapable of making one yourself? :)

And how you keep arranging your pretty-boy personality to keep up with your father's standards? :)

Doesn't being referred to in such way make you feel more inferiorly inhuman?

(sorry this took so long to answer, anon! I've been thinking abt how I wanted to do it for awhile now, and I can safely say the ending is a bit disturbing lmao)

TW: a touch of body horror at the very end! (It's separated from the rest of the writing so you can't miss it, and the cut is for brevity since this is kind of a longer post. Enjoy!)

Tch. Look at the grating grin on this bastard...

"Hey, shit for brains! I'm the most human of all the dolls dad's ever worked on!" Ranger reminds you, flapping his expression cards against your forehead a few times in clear exasperation, as if to scold you the way a dog owner might lightly hit Fido with a rolled up newspaper. "Don't'cha know that means I'm the best of both worlds?" With a paper smile pressed to his lips, he goes on to explain why.

"First of all, I can't get sick and die like you losers, and even if the me standing before you became scrap metal, there's puh-lenty of backups for my code, my parts, my blueprints, my possessions... Dad's got alllllll of that junk on file in case something happens."

And yet, the doubt still creeps into his mind.

A masterpiece, huh?

What masterpiece constantly feels like shit?

"But I get it!" He exclaims, interrupting his own thoughts. "I get it! Really, I do! I'm sure it just gnaws you up inside knowing my dad loves me so much. Call me a gambling man, 'cause I'd bet big on you not thinking he was capable of it, what, with how stony faced he tends to be." Then Ranger pauses. "Say, whadda you think, bastard? Am I my dad's son?"

With the purposeful flick of his wrist, his mouth is no longer concealed by any cards, revealing nothing but the thin line of his lips behind them and the darkening whites of his eyes. Orange and yellow swirls of madness twist their way through the murk, pinning you in place beneath the weight of his gaze and the lack of a smile.

"The resemblance is uncanny, wouldn't you say?"

But something about the way you keep smiling at him says you expected this outcome. You think you've won, you cheeky bastard?

"What's wrong with being a bit inhuman, eh?" He asks tonelessly. He's asked himself this question a thousand times, because he is human in all the ways that count, isn't he? That's always what dad said.

"I'm a masterpiece with or without my humanity," he adds convincingly. You'd never guess he was trying to convince himself with those words too.

Why? It stings to question dad, but why?

Why was he made like this? Why does he doubt himself so much? Why aren't dad's answers ever enough? Every. single. time dad tells him the truth, and every. single. time Ranger squanders it.

He hates himself for it. But he hates you more.

"You're lucky your clothes are so damn ugly," he says to you at last, lazily eyeing you up and down once before turning on his heel to walk away, not even bothering to raise his cards as they hang dejectedly at his side. "You're not worth all the clean up killing you would require."

If only he could flay you alive.

Wear your frail, peeled skin like a mask, and see the look of horror in your eyes as the sight of your own face is the last thing you see. Skeletons can't smile back, after all.

But maybe, finally and at last, he could.

#rio ranger #toto noel #yttd ranger #yttd #your turn to die #kimi ga shine #tw body horror

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