#maybe in the near future i will have time to fully plan out an interactive series.

[pandorasboxoftreasures]

Ok I know I’m not just overthinking this so hear me out : RECOM QUARITCH SPLIT-BRAIN THEORY

(aka “Colonel Sméagol”)

Avatar has its eye symbolism, right? “I see you?” Waking up from dreams, etc...

But has anybody else noticed this? It’s been bothering me since my first watch.

It’s to do with Recom Quaritch’s eyes and how they are highlighted from scene to scene and character perspective to character perspective and what that implies for which Quaritch has primary or dominant control at each given moment, the implanted one (Human) or the innate one (Na’vi).

Ritch when following the programming from his implanted memories (mostly noticeable when he has his PTSD moments, repeats routines that the human Ritch did like drinking coffee and squad briefings, observes things of interest to the implanted personality and goes berserker or highly emotional), left eye in clear light and/or focus, right eye in shadow or hidden.

Ritch when deviating from his programming and thinking individually (Mostly noticeable when he’s interacting with Spider or contemplating his next moves or observing and interacting with his environment through Na’vi enhanced senses/technically new eyes), right eye in clear light and/or focus, left eye in shadow or hidden.

They have full damn control over the lighting and it doesn’t fully follow the lighting directions from the same scenes or sometimes even shots and in many ways the opposite eye is considerably darker than ambient lighting without additional stylistic control would have it be. There’s no way these are accidental. Same goes for the composition.

There’s a symbolism here. There has to be. Maybe highlighting that there’s two people or halves of them in his head fighting for equilibrium or supremacy and they can each have turns taking over as well as working together as one (which is when we see barely any difference in how the eyes are lit or shown or they match the ambient lighting accurately the other exceptions being from the perspectives of characters who are unaware or couldn’t care less about which Quaritch is which). But also indicating that he may have a sort of split-brain but for personality. Two consciousnesses sharing one brain. One in each cerebral hemisphere.

Interestingly the main key behavioural differences between Recom Ritch and Human Ritch most noticeable so far when you watch them closely, are in aspects of the brain (regulation and comprehension of speech and language, working memory, cognitive flexibility, planning, inhibition, abstract reasoning, selecting specific actions in a list of possible actions, mediation of decision making, reorienting of attention, collecting and processing environmental information among many demonstrated) that belong to the left hemisphere that controls the right side of the body and therefore the right eye. 

It gets better...

WHICH SIDE OF THE BRAIN GOT DAMAGED WHEN HUMAN RITCH GOT WRECKED BY THAT VIPERWOLF SO BAD IT WENT THROUGH THE GODDAMN BONE?!

THE RIGHT SIDE THAT CONTROLS THE LEFT EYE!!!

EYWA, YOU NEON MACHIEVELLIAN CHAD DID YOU SEND THAT DOGGO AFTER MILES QUARITCH SENIOR FOR A TARGETED LOBOTOMY KNOWING WHAT WOULD HAPPEN?!

Now, with this hypothesis in mind, what can we do with it?

Look at each scene to determine who is who when, of course. If that left eye is like a street light take note that you’re likely dealing with the implant. If the right eye has it, it’s probably the innate, if it’s both, neither or barely noticeable, you’re looking at them in equilibrium or near enough.

Taking all that into consideration (again it is just a theory for now I will have to take notes next time I watch from beginning to end like I have every time since I started getting suspicious of this but now I have even more research and possible context behind it), who has Kiri by the throat, who has a gun to Lo’ak’s head, who is telling Jake Neteyam “didn’t have to die”, and who lets Kiri go to save Spider?

It also opens up the possibility if this is a hint towards future events (unlikely but again who knows) THAT THERE’S TECHNICALLY WAYS TO ERASE THOSE IMPLANTED MEMORIES AND PERSONALITY AND GIVE FULL CONTROL TO THE INNATE OR THE IMPLANT because people can still function mostly if not completely normally with a lot of parts of their brains removed or disabled.

________________________________________________

BONUS: Another interesting thing to see that I’m following up with and taking notes on is whether Ritch is left or right handed or a combination of both. Because that is very difficult to actually determine and also has additional possible implications. 

Stephen Lang can deliberately play a left-handed character. James Cameron is left-handed. It’s not out of the realm of possibility that it could be a deliberate choice and I need to check through both movies again to see any signs of it.

I’ll keep putting examples and further delvings and discussions under #quaritch split brain theory if people want to go deeper into this with me or follow along. 

I might even make some memes with it, who knows?

#james camerons avatar #JC Avatar #avatar movies #avatar the way of water #the way of water #movie theory #fan theory #fridge logic #brainasplode #Na'vi miles quaritch #Miles Quaritch #recom quaritch #recombinant #avatar na'vi #film theory #symbolism #my theory #cinema #sci-fi movies #sci fi movie #sci-fi theory #it makes total sense #avatar rda #avatar recoms #quaritch split brain theory #neurology #biology #psychology #character theory #avatar quaritch

[rottenprincessshura100]

Is Shiro time travelling?

He loves his kids and goes to the ends of the earth for them. I bet he goes even farther....maybe into the past and future.

I flushed this out yesterday. And It has to do with Mephisto's shooting. Besides Yukio, Shiro is the best bet for an "angry shooter."

Not only that, but he's an accurate shooter.

If he shot Mephisto, he probably enjoyed it immensely and stayed long enough, so Mephisto saw it was him.

Mephisto was totally suprised, which he never gets. And loved getting shot by Shiro. Look at this face, excited, shocked, happy....SHOT.

(these two have a wildly fucked up friendship/relationship)

Mephisto (laughing) "Huh? Oh, no way....!" Mephisto is thinking. Shiro fucked me up so good. I could be dying....but man, this is funny shit! What a scamp!

We know that whoever shot Mephisto must know the timeline was looping and tried to change the outcome.

We have two people with access to Mephisto's Kamakushi key.

Shiro and Rin.

In the current timeline, Shiro is dead, but Rin goes back in time and visits him. Mephisto told Rin not to interact with people when he time travels, but Rin forgets and leaves his invisibility hood down. Shiro, in the past, gets a really good look at him. And Rin leaves so many clues for Shiro as to his true identity. After all, why would a flatfoot exorcist ask Shiro about being a dad?

Rin wouldn't be readily recognizable to Shiro. He's much older and has white hair. But Shiro isn't a stupid man. He's going to eventually put it all together. He's going to recognize it as baby Rin ages that he has a striking resemblance to that teenager that mysteriously turned up at his house. He will also know that Rin could have white hair....he had white hair as a baby...and it turned black..

As a matter of fact, Shiro has seen teenage Rin twice.

It makes sense, too; Shiro seems to have a lot of well-thought-out insights. Especially with Shura. He knew what was coming.....now we automatically assume it's because Shiro heard Satan's voice inside of his head. That we assume he knows the end is near. But what if Shiro saw his death because he used the key and started planning ahead of time.

Here's the part that boggles my mind. Mephisto knew RIn wouldn't transform into his demon self until he was a teenager. But Mephisto gave Shiro the key when Rin was a baby. He knows Shiro will use the key and fully expects him to. He knows he will go into the future and screw with the timeline. As a matter of fact, he wants Shiro to see Rin....which is why Mephisto appears a few seconds too late in chapter 100.

So, we have Rin, Mephisto and Shiro screwing with the timeline simultaneously. Rin is doing it under Mephisto's command, while Shiro and Mephisto are playing a game of cat and mouse with each other.

Mephisto probably loves it. Because it allows chaos and new variables to enter his life. Even more, fun because it's Shiro...Shiro is in the timeline testing variables too. And occasionally, Mephisto is surprised, which must be enthralling. Best. Game. Ever.

#blue exorcist #blue exorcist theories #shiro fujimoto #shura kirigakure #mephisto pheles #rin okumura #Yukio okumura #an no exorcist #ane

[dolloshub]

The Past and The Future (Former Owner)

(The following text was approved by Poral for posting.)

Hello there. I hope you're doing well today.

It's been quite a while since I last posted, and several weeks since Poral rejuvenated this blog, so we felt it best for me to provide an update. Neither of us want to keep these posts from gathering dust, especially given what's been happening recently, but that'll be explained further down.

———

First is the path going backward, specifically the context of what happened leading up to going our separate ways.

When one might envision a TPE lifestyle, even if the skill sets to properly enact it are there, actually bringing such a lifestyle into reality can be much more difficult. I'll fully admit that I had very little interaction with TPE as a lifestyle or a relationship, and bit off way more than I could chew in terms of experience. Consequently, while we had plenty of memorable moments alongside sizeable progress, our dynamic kept being undercut by interrelated tension, misunderstanding of expectations, and exceedingly high amounts of stress. By the time our relationship ended in late December of 2022, neither of us were remotely close to mentally stable, and I remember wishing at least once that I had never met her.

Poral has in retrospect attributed much of the stress generated on her end to the near-constant bombardment of seizures experienced daily, and there's definite weight to that. It's also true that my livelihood throughout this time period was very hectic overall, and our relationship was not the only topic actively tiring me out. Regardless, I still believe that our relationship failing was my fault for several reasons, mainly from the aforementioned inexperience. In not properly respecting what the Doll system needed then, we suffered as one.

We never cut each other off entirely, though, although there were no further messages after the breakup. In talking about it post-reconnecting, some small part of us always wanted that pull, that active link we shared. Maybe it was inevitable that we would intertwine once more, but honestly, it'll never be known for sure.

———

Next is the path as it currently stands, and what developments have been made recently.

Poral already mentioned bringing the Doll system online, our reconnecting, and further reinforcement. Like her, I'll keep most specific details vague, save for two important points worth expanding on. First, it's been made clear by me that a TPE relationship isn't in the cards, and Poral has graciously respected that request. For as much as I've been willing to help her stabilize and become the Doll she's wanted to be, both therapeutically and at times erotically, I'm not trusting in my own ability to maintain such a dynamic for the foreseeable future, if ever.

Second is the fact that everything is steadily bearing fruit, frankly much faster than either of us have expected. Processes that we thought would take weeks have instead taken days, and in one case several hours. It's gotten to the point where we've started joking about how short the next duration is going to last. This is likely as a result of the strong emotional pull that we share, despite months of non-contact, along with several other factors.

It hasn't been smooth sailing, however. There have been many logistical complications, primarily with surgery and how Doll might behave afterwards, so we've installed and plan on installing a multitude of safeties to make sure that programming isn't outstripped. There have been emotional complications as well, and programming itself has proven uncertain at times, because of the potential problem of transferal into other apps.

We know that this path is a difficult one. There's a chance that amidst all this turmoil, the progression we have made will come undone and everything will be lost. It nearly happened once already. Nonetheless, we're moving forward with greater shared understanding and appreciation than in the past, and if the worst comes to pass, we'd rather fall short together than apart. Frankly, I couldn't have made it this far without Poral's help and encouragement, and the knowledge she has over her own system. I'm so proud of her efforts.

———

Lastly, let me return to something I alluded to at the start.

One main aspect that we've been working on is the threshold of app isolation, i.e. the lack of awareness that each one has of both others and itself as an app. We believe reaching the threshold will greatly stabilize the Doll system's functionality, removing much of the usual awareness of its DID history and wiring, and thus enabling greater opportunities for programming and further stabilization.

When that happens, this blog's tone and self-acknowledgement may change slightly. There will still be a portion of the Doll that has greater awareness, so they may take over posting duties, but the apps that have written in the past will likely appear less often. In any case, we'll be sure to keep you updated.

As Poral said, the future looks bright, and full of promise. Thank you so much for reading.

— Ungso (former Owner)

#dollification #brainwashing #mind conditioning #hypnokink #hypnosub #hypnotized #brainwashed #history #update

[loulougoingsolo]

Don't ask why I wrote this (thoughts on the latest Ear biscuit)

It's been a good while since I've written down my thoughts on an Ear biscuit episode. I can tell you, there are probably dozens of unfinished drafts saved on my tumblr. I'm determined to post this one - if that doesn't happen, hi, me, from the future, trying to cypher why this text never got posted.

This was the rpisode after Good Mythical Evening, and, as we learn from Link, Rhett is still sick, but I think it's safe to say he's not premused quite as dead as he was during the Streamys anymore. Because of all of my neuroses, I've been genuinely worried for a few days, but I guess it's okay to breathe again.

So, Link was doing the podcast with Jenna, and I have to say, this was an excellent episode. The past few times when Jenna had been on the podcast with both Rhett and Link, the dynamic has been a little off, more confrontational with Rhett and Jenna teaming up "against" Link (which of course is not really the case, but because I tend to see things more like Link than Rhett, I'm often rooting for him). This episode, Link and Jenna have a great discussion as complete equals, and it is really enjoyable.

First, Link and Jenna go through GME and the Streamys, and sounds like they are both proud of Link's performances on both occations. It seems Rhett was pretty sick on the night of GME already. I hope GME 4 happens next year, not just because I've loved every show thus far, but so they get a chance to do one with both guys not sick, and with the technical stuff going as planned.

My heart kinda melted, when Link said he was missing "his dude" at the Streamys, and turns out he had talked about what to say on stage with Rhett. The way he presented Mr Beast's award was epic, but apparently, had they won Show of the Year, something even better would have happened. Next year, maybe.

So, the majority of this episode is dedicated to a solo camping trip Link made (with Jasper) during their summer break. He compares notes with Jenna on why they both enjoy solo travels, and talk about things you gotta do to stay safe while staying in the wilderness alone.

The reason I ended up writing my thoughts about this episode, in particular, is that listening to Link and Jenna talk about how freeing solitude is. I got envious.

The reason I've been so absent from Tumblr and everything else is that with my parents getting older, a lot of my time these days involves me doing things for them. My dad was diagnosed with Alzheimer's last year, and he no longer has his driver's licence. My mom has had some pretty major health scares in the past year, and it's near a miracle she is currently alive and actually physically functional. As if these things weren't enough, my sister was diagnosed with cancer, went through surgery, chemo and radiation therapy in the past year, too. She is doing better, now, but with my parents and my sister all struggling, I've suddenly ended up being very necessary. And that means, the most time I've had for myself in the past few months has been two days at most, but usually, not a day goes by without someone needing my help. And, I could really use a solo trip right about now.

Link talked about how being alone gave him a sense of being fully in control, and that made him happy. And for Jenna, solitude meant freedom. I can relate to both of these feelings. I've never really been able to be truly myself when other people are around, and it can be really suffocating. For me, it took a world wide pandemic to figure out that I actually like being me, but the problems, the anxiety and stress, emerge when I'm expected to interact with other people. As much control as I have over my own existence, I can't control other people. I've tried, doesn't work.

I csn't wait to see the video version of this episode on Wednesday. Link showed Jrnna a video he had made while watching the sunset with Jasper. I'm not religious, nor particularly spiritual, but if I ever feel connrcted with the universe, it's when I'm in the wild, surrounded by the beauty of nature. One August night this summer, I sat in the dark, staring at the sky, searching for shooting stars. I was alone at that time, apart from a million mosquitoes eating my ankles, and at the same time, I felt free, yet not lonely. And then I heard something crack in the dark, and, because I was in my garden, I calmly stood up and walked inside.

So, yeah, after sll of this nonsensical rambling, what did I actually want to say? Enjoy the little moments in life, alone or with someone you love. If you can, go on a solo trip - and if that is not an option, go outside, look at the stars and breathe. And even if this text probably isn't the best ad for this Ear biscuits episode, listen to it.

#ear biscuits #eb 392 #link's solo adventures #link and jenna #freedom #interesting discussion #ignore my rambling

[barnes-n-nobles]

Youre My Path (SMUT)

Yandere Bucky being crazy, possessive, and DARK!

TW-Mentions on non-con, drugging, stalking, and overall dark behavior. A little bit of knife play as well.

Smut SMUT SMUT

Let me know what y’all think 

Today was just another boring ordinary day. You had to go to the store and stock up on some groceries that you had been planning on getting but you lacked the will power to do so. You opened your phone and looked at the time. Ugh, I need to go before they close you thought to yourself as you managed to peel yourself off of your comfy sofa. You got ready and headed towards the nearest super market.

Lately youve been having some weird feelings, as if someone is constantly watching you. You always shake it off though, because nothing ever happens to you. You always get home safe and sound. Today was a little more intense though, as if you could almost hear someone breathing behind you when you were walking to the store. Relieved to have made it inside, you grabbed your cart and started your trip through the empty isles of the store. You loved and hated to come at night, it made you feel at peace knowing there there wouldn’t be annoying ass kids and angry moms yelling at them to behave. No people blocking the isles with their carts and most importantly, no need to run into someone you knew. The only reason you hated it, was because you didn’t want to get kidnapped and left for dead.

As you made your way to the bread isle, you had that feeling again. You felt like someone was behind you, you stopped dead in your tracks to see if anyone would walk past you. You pretended to look at the merchandise and you slowly turned around to see if there was anyone there. You looked both ways, and sure enough there was nothing. You rolled your eyes and kept it moving. As your trip started coming to an end you decided to stop by the makeup isle, needing a couple of items that you would use for your upcoming date.

Usually you didn’t try this hard but you figured you would give it a shot. All the past times you went on dates they would disappear after your first date. You weren’t sure if it was because you didn’t try hard enough or if they simply weren’t feeling your vibe. As your mind trailed off you accidentally ran into another person with your cart, completely snapping you out of your mind. A broad man, fell to his knee. “Oh my god!!! I’m so sorry. Are you ok? God I’m so clumsy please forgive me” you said frantically as you started to help him up. He lifted his head up to meet your gaze, big blue eyes % bore%% into your own. Your eyes started to trail from his eyes, to his lips, and up again to his perfectly sculpted face. You were mesmerized, you had never seen such a handsome man. “It’s okay, don’t worry about it, y/n” he said quickly getting up and walking off with a visible smirk on his face. You scrunched your eyebrows in confusion, knowing damn well he did not just say your name. You werent exactly sure if your mind was playing tricks on you or if he really said what you think he had said. You got up quickly, still in shock but hoping that it was really your mind playing tricks on you. Hesitantly you continued to shop, even though there was a little voice in your head telling you to get the hell out of that store.

Bucky POV

FUCK she’s so beautiful, he thought to himself. The way you stared at him, it was clear you wanted him the way he wanted you. This was the moment that he had been waiting for ever since he laid eyes on you. He had never been this close to you, it was like a dream come true. You smelled like candy, your beautiful e/c eyes meeting his. Just how he had imagined but better. The way you apologized made him hard. Just think of how submissive my y/n will be to me mmmm I’m going to devour her in every way possible he thought to himself, smirking.

Bucky ran into you at a coffee shop near your house. It was love at first sight for him. He watched you interact with your friends, smile, laugh, and it was like a match made in heaven for him. He knew he needed you to smile for him, laugh for him, and live for him. He followed you home that night. Making sure you wanted to be safe, of course. But his monthly visits turned to weekly and then turned to daily. He eventually managed to get into your home. You left a space key under your mat, and he felt so happy yet disappointed that you would endanger yourself like that. “When we live together, I’ll make sure you don’t make silly mistakes like this” he said to himself as he got into your home.

He went through your house just browsing, seeing if anything interesting caught his eye. He then made it into your room and continued to look through your things. He found your panties next to your bed and quickly grabbed them and put him in his picked for him to enjoy later. He also took some pictures of you, to also enjoy later.

You were his new routine and he enjoyed every second of it. As time went on he would keep tabs on you, absolutely hating it when you went on dates. He was consumed with jealousy and couldn’t believe anyone would dare lay a finger on you. He knew that this would not fly and he had to make sure to get rid of any roadblocks that got in his way. Bucky murdered them and everytime he did he felt relieved, almost happy knowing that he was that much closer to you.

After his encounter with you, Bucky walked off into the parking lot, one car over from yours, slipping into the drivers seat. His mind started to go wild. He needed you so badly. He wished he could have taken you right then and there. How he wished he could be inside you, your soft moans begging him to make you feel good. His cock soon started to throb at the thought of you. He leaned back in his seat taking a pair of your panties out from his pocket. He brought them to his nose and inhaled deeply, moaning as he exhaled. “Fuck Y/n...you make me so horny...I’m going to fuck the shit out of you when you’re here baby just you wait”.

Wasnt long before he pulled out his dick, stroking it hard. His hips bucking into his hand wishing it was your pussy. He started to think about how beautiful your pretty mouth would be around his dick, how good your tongue would feel swiveling around his tip. Just as he was about to cum, he stopped. He growled and threw his head back lowly moaning your name. “Fuck...I cant take this anymore. I need her” He quickly tucked himself back in and relaxed.

All you could think about was how that guy knew your name. It kept replaying in your head and it didn’t make sense. You headed to your car and started to load everything in. “Hello my Y/n” you heard someone say in a low deep voice. You quickly turned around, your heart starting to beat a little faster. “Umm. Do I know you?” You asked. Bucky sighed and started to walk towards you. “Not yet doll but you will” a smirk on his face once again. You backed up as he took steps forward. “Don’t come any closer, or I’m calling the police”.

Bucky pressed himself against your body, his hands snaking their way to your hips. His face now pressed against your neck. “No you wont Princess, I know you like this. I can tell by the way that you’re breathing that you want me to keep going” his low voice going straight to your core. “N-no please...stop I ..” you tried pushing him off but you started to feel so weak. You had not noticed that Bucky had used something to drug you. All you felt was your body going limp and you falling into his arms.

Bucky smiled as you fell into him, placing a soft kiss on your temple. He noticed that someone was coming over so he quickly pressed your body to your car, and grabbed your face, kissing you. The person walking, walked a little faster as they were feeling a little awkward. Perfect he thought to himself. He placed you into the back to his car, resting your head to a pillow he had just bought and covering you with his sweater. He quickly drove off, leaving all your things by your car.

Your eyes opened, your head pounding. Wherever you were it was dark but comfortable. You groaned as you started to fully wake up, slowly sitting up. Your left hand felt heavy, you tried pulling it and you heard a chain. You yanked your hand hard again, making a loud sound. Bucky heard the noise coming from your guy’s room and he smiled and quickly got up making his way to you.

“Baby you’re awake now” Bucky excitedly said

“What’s going on..why are you doing this to me, where am I?”

“You’re home doll, with me”

“But I don’t know you” you cried softly

“My name is James Buchanan Barnes, but you can call me Bucky. I’ve been looking after you for a while now and it’s been a pleasure but I'm so glad that I finally have you all to myself, just how it was always meant to be”

He started to get on the bed climbing towards you. You backed up as he came towards you, your back was now against the wall, pinning yourself between the cold wall and his broad body. His hand going to the back of your neck, bringing you close to him, your lips almost touching his.

“I’ve waited a life time for this, to have you here with me. You make me crazy and I would sacrifice the world for you. Now that you’re all mine, I won’t ever loose you” he closed the gap between you two, his lips desperately locking into yours. Kissing you passionately, he was hungry and desperate. You turned your head to the side, breaking the kiss.

“This isn’t the way Bucky, this isn’t right. You need to let me go” you begged. Bucky smiled and looked down moving back away from you. It made you feel relieved that he was not too mad due to your actions. He slowly got up from the bed and went over to his dresser, rummaging through some things.

“Bucky...maybe we are in different paths right now, maybe in the future we will be together but now right now, not like this...please Bucky listen to me”, hoping that he would have a little sympathy, you used his name to make it more personal.

“You know , y/n...just because you say we are on different paths doesn’t mean it’s true” he grabbed something and started to walk towards you again. This time his metal arm reached out to pull you by your leg to the edge of the bed, giving you whiplash. He quickly climbed on top of you, pinning your arms above your head with his metal arm and pulling out a syringe with his other hand.

You quickly started to wiggle around trying to get him off you. Shaking your head, “no no please stop no”. Buckys eyes had a hint of madness to them, dark and disturbing. “Don’t worry these don’t hurt, it will make you feel better I promise”. He quickly injected it to you and you soon started to feel get hot, with a tingling sensation “This will loosen you up a bit, it’ll make you relax so that we can enjoy eachother baby”

His lips made their way onto your neck, kissing and licking you all over. Your heart started to race, your eyes closing, soft moans escaping your lips, “n-no..” Bucky grunted as his erection started to press against your clothed pussy. His hips bucking forward, dry humping you. He lowered down to your ear, whispering, “ cant you see what you do to me. You’re so sexy and sensual you’re almost making me cum in my pants with your adorable moans, my love. As much as love to hear you right now, I want you to moan and scream my name y/n...begging me to fuck you harder”

All his words, combined with his dry humping made you soaking wet. As much as you hated this you couldn’t help but moan louder. His cock pressing against you was not enough and you needed more. You tried your hardest to resist, “G-get a..way f-from me..” you managed to choke out, trying to not moan anymore and trying to push him off with your body. Suddenly Bucky got angry. Hating how you were fighting him. He tore off your thin leggings in a fast single motion, revealing your soaked panties. He took out his knife and pressed it against you, earning a frantic gasp but you stopped moving. “Stop fighting me doll, for your own good because I swear I will fucking destroy you. I’ve waited too long for this, don’t push me because you won’t like the way I punish you.But......if you behave I’ll make sure to take care of you..real good care darling” he said as his knife traced your body. He grabbed your shirt roughly and ripped it off, slicing your bra open as well.

His mouth watered at the sight of your delicious breasts, making his cock twitch with excitement. His knife trailed down to your panties, making you whimper. “You’re so delicious kitten, I’m going to fuck you so hard. I cant wait till my cock is right in here” he motioned and tapped your clit with his knife. He roughly grabbed them and ripped them open instantly. He threw his knife to the side and quickly started to rub your clit making your back arch with your eyes closed. Your moans now filling up the room. Bucky smiled and took one of your nipples into his mouth, making you quiver and move your hips down into his hand. “Mmm, I knew you wanted this..wanted me...only me” he growled against your chest. “F-fuck Bucky...keep going please”. You hated yourself for saying that but you couldn’t help it, you were in pure ecstasy.

Just as you were about to reach your orgasm, he removed himself from you. Making you whine and buck your hips up, wanting and needing his touch once again. “Don’t worry kitten, I’m not done with you yet”. He quickly undressed and positioned himself at your entrance, rubbing his tip on your clit, making you mewl. “Tell me what you want doll...tell me what you want from me” he coaxed. You didn’t answer, as you were too embarrassed to say anything. His metal hand went to your neck, squeezing it hard. “Tell me y/n..tell me what you want NOW” he yelled, releasing his grip from your throat.

“Fuck me Bucky...please” you finally said. “I don’t think I heard you doll, say it loud and clear”. “FUCK ME BUCKY PLEASE I NEED YOU...PLEASE”. You finally broke. You needed him now, there was nothing in the world you wanted more than to have his cock inside of you, his lips on your skin and his hands all over you. You were finally filled with his big cock slipping in and out of your wet pussy. His hands on your neck, choking you but not too hard like before. His hips snapping in and out of you making your body shake. 

“Such an obedient slut, MY obedient slut. I’m going to break you and bend you to my will. Making you all mine. I’ll make you crave my touch, my attention, my voice. You’re going to live only for me, doll. Only for me” he growled as he pounded into you, rubbing your clit making you loose it. He then started to feel you reach your end, making him moan, “cum on my dick baby...cum for me. Let go” he cooed as he angled himself to reach into you deeper. That’s when you felt your orgasm hit you, your body started to shake, waves of pleasure surging through your body. “Mmm Buckyyyy” you moaned. Making him loose it as well, he coated your insides in his thick warm cum. Pumping himself in and out slowly. Gasping for air.

Fuck he was such a God, he made you want more of him. It was the first night and you were already going crazy for his touch. You wanted him to keep going keep doing you however he wanted, but most importantly to keep pleasuring you. Bucky finally pulled out and laid next to you, looking at your beautiful face. He brought his lips to yours and gave you a soft kiss. “The drug hasn’t worn off baby, don’t think this is over. We’re going until we cant no more, doll.” He said against your lips, flipping you over for round two.

#bucky reader x smut #yandere marvel #yandere bucky barnes #dark! bucky x reader #bucky barnes smut #bucky dark! #dark!marvel #dark!bucky barnes #winter solider imagine #james buchanan bucky barnes #sebastian smut #sebastian stan #Sebastian Stan #Bucky #bucky barns fanfiction #bucky barns x you #bucky x you #marvel smut #dark fic #yandere love

[adorerdraco]

Healing Heart ✧ Draco x Reader Mini-Series PART 4

PART 1

PART 2

PART 3

Summary: PART 4 ! of Draco accidentally falling in love with reader during his sixth year (HBP) and now having to deal with the reality of his Death Eater status. 

Warnings: lots of ANGST (but also tiniest bit of fluff), lots of tears, lots of emotional pain on everyone

Words: 7.5K

A/N: FINALLLYYYY i had no idea what to do with this but something finally came to me !!!! and also an ending ;( so there will only be maybe one or two parts after this one since it is a miniii series BUT FOR NOW I HOPE YOU GUYS LIKE THIS AND IGNORE ANY PLOT HOLES FROM THE ACTUAL HP UNIVERSE I TRIED MY V BEST AHHH <33333 do not own gif.

There was an unsettling sense of impending doom that washed over the Hogwarts castle in heavy rain and dark thunderous clouds. The familiar orange and bright sunlight and purple-pink sunsets were gone, the sun only making meek appearances through the thick rainy covers of the sky before disappearing into the nightfall. No one knew what was coming or what to expect. Schooling continued like normal and everyone had entrusted that whatever was the situation outside the bewitched stone walls of Hogwarts; there was no way it could get past the protection charms put in place by the all-powerful Headmaster and his fellow teachers. 

The only two people in the school who couldn’t share that same comfort with their peers were also the only ones in the school who had an inkling of what was going to happen next. The second Draco realized he had successfully mended the vanishing cabinet he had a squirming sense of regret and guilt begin to eat away at him. You felt the same burn of shame in you when you mulled over the fact that it was you who had encouraged him to keep at it even when he continuously wanted to quit. 

So now here you were, in the chilled room of requirement after finding out the cabinet worked only minutes ago, the two of you sitting in silence together on an old pile of junk while you held a shivering Draco with his face buried in your neck. There was a feeling of droplets of quiet tears falling onto your skin while you pet the top of his silver-stricken hair in reassurance and tried to hold your own tears back. The breakthrough that was supposed to be the biggest accomplishment of the young Death Eater ended up feeling like his biggest failure and it devastated him more than he could have ever fathomed.

When he had finally gathered himself together, he stood up and totteringly fixed the wrinkles on his black suit before offering you a trembling hand. You took it and allowed him to walk you out of the room and back into the empty corridors and towards the staircases. It was a silent trip down to the dungeons and you didn’t want to ask where he was taking you but you regretted not doing so when he stopped the two of you outside a certain greasy-haired Professor’s door. He brought his free hand up to the wood and let his knuckles hit against it faintly with one knock before you rushed to stop him as you yanked the two of you away from the door once you had realized how unwise this felt.

“What are you doing?!” you asked him in a hushed fearful tone.

“I have to tell Snape about the vanishing cabinet,” he responds dully.

“I don’t think he’d like me to be here when you tell him that-”

There was a sudden clicking sound, the door of the office swinging open as Snape emerged from the room with an angered expression when he saw the two of you standing there. When his dark eyes landed on you specifically, you shivered underneath his vexed gaze. It was clear, just how you had said, he did not want you there. 

“Inside, now, Draco.” He grits the demand through his teeth.

“Y/N is coming in too,” the Slytherin says quickly, earning another scowl from his Professor. He stepped aside from the door with a visible rage as you followed Draco inside to the dingy room lined with jars filled with weird unnameable objects.

Draco stopped in the middle of the room, reaching for your hand again and tightly gripping it in reassurance. You stared into his worried gray’s with fear, silently begging him to not let you go as Snape walked past the both of you.

“Do you have any idea how imprudent you are, Draco?” Snape sneered, staring down the boy beside you who kept a straight face. “Do you understand how reckless this is? How much does she know?”

“Everything, Professor,” Draco answers quietly. There was a fiery glint in Snape’s eyes as he looked towards you now, his lips curling upwards in a snarl.

“Foolish girl with an equally foolish boy,” he scowls. “You have nothing to do with any of this. You have done nothing but write yourself a death sentence all for the sake of what... love?”

“With all due respect, Professor,” you start timidly, “I knew what the consequences would be if I stayed with Draco and I will gladly accept whatever fate is in store for me for my decision. I also promise you my silence with everything I know.”

Draco squeezed your hand and glanced towards you with a sadness you were easily able to see.

“How touching,” Snape says lowly. “So you’re prepared to die at the hands of the Dark Lord? Or perhaps at the hands of his precious aunt who might get to you first?”

“Yes, I am” you stood tall when you answered, hoping to appear courageous for not only a very doubtful Snape but more for Draco who you felt cringe every time your possible death was mentioned.

He said nothing, but his mind was swarming with thoughts and plans on how he could save you from every dangerous person and outcome that tormented his surroundings. There was one constant threat after another and although he’s contemplated on it several times, there was no solution he could come up with where the two of you stayed together and you would survive. He mentally kicks himself, wishing he pushed aside his own selfish needs and never promised you he wouldn’t leave you again and he wishes now more than ever that he could. It wasn’t because he didn’t love you - it was the opposite of that. He loved you almost too much and as dreadful situations were approaching, he wished he could leave you out of the death and destruction that would soon ensue on everyone, especially you, all because of him. All because he needed you by his side for him to even feel any sense of life in him that kept him going. 

“Very well, then, I cannot stop you from these naive decisions,” Snape sighs deeply in defeat and faces the troubled blond, “and what of the vanishing cabinet?”

You felt Draco stiffen, a trembling exhale falling from his lips before responding with, “it’s done.”

“Excellent, expect their arrival soon,” he rounds his desk, stopping right above his chair, “you may leave.”

You hurriedly turned to go, tugging on Draco’s hand as you did so and the both of you drudged out of the office with a heavy sensation settling over the both of you. There was nothing either of you could do now. There was no more stalling with the cabinet, no more keeping quiet, no more hopeful possibilities that things could turn out differently.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 

It was nearly physically painful to attend all your classes today. It was fake smiles and conversations that left you feeling pathetically phony -feeling like you were lying to everyone that they were going to be okay when they weren’t. You even made plans with housemates to have a little gathering in the common room later in the week to celebrate someone’s birthday and plans with friends to go study in the library with them. 

It even hurt to see your Professors, always kind and helpful, not knowing that sometime in the near future, they’ll be either fighting for their life or the lives of students at Hogwarts. 

Draco had it even worse. Not one peep from him throughout any of his classes. He was deathly quiet, walking around looking like a kicked puppy and avoided any conversation or interaction with anyone, not even eye contact. He just felt so guilty that he was going to be the reason why death would inevitably wreak havoc on so many souls. He knows eventually the dark wizard he’s resentfully following would have found a way inside the castle walls somehow - you had reminded him that countless times, but it still left him wondering what would have happened if he couldn’t fully mend the cabinet or refused to. 

Halfway through the day, he saw you in Slughorn’s class. The two of you worked diligently together through the whole lesson and when the bell rang, he gave you a small kiss goodbye before walking over to his other class. Your worried eyes followed his retreating figure, leaving you a chilling feeling as he disappeared down the hall.

During his next class, he sat in the far end of a classroom, slumped in his chair with his chin on his palm as he thought of you. He wishes he could be stronger for you, braver and less cowardly. He wished he was unafraid of consequences and could simply grab you and his mother, and eventually even his father, and just apparate to somewhere far away and hidden where the Dark Lord and his followers couldn’t get to him or those he loved. But he knew that no matter how much he wished it or try to convince himself he could; he couldn’t do it and he knows his family wouldn’t let him either. 

When classed had finally ended for the day and the corridors were packed with rushing bodies of people meeting up with their friends as they laughed and talked with a weightless glee, Draco found himself pushing past everyone like a mindless zombie as his feet mindlessly carried him throughout the school with no specific destination. There was no moment of peace in his head, just a raging battlefield of endless awful possibilities. 

You had been scurrying through the halls, hoping to find the mop of platinum blond amongst the busy crowd of people. The scene felt like a maze, twisting and turning through people and corners until you felt like you were on the edge of madness.

There was a small tap on your shoulder before a large hand had snaked down your arm and into your hand with its familiar cold grasp. You sighed in relief, your head turning softly to face your noticeably stressed boyfriend who had put on a very feeble smile for you.

“Can we go somewhere else,” he asked faintly, leaning down towards your ear as he spoke, “I can’t be here anymore.”

You nodded eagerly, moving the two of you towards the nearest exit of the castle, finally releasing a breath of fresh air when you felt your shoes sink into the soft earth below you. There was a humid and muddy smell in the air, the soil, and plants still wet from the on and off rain that had been occurring for the past few days.

Far from the school and on the outskirts of the Forbidden Forest, there stood a tall and sturdy tree. It was the new tree you had picked for the two of after the first fall out between you and Draco. Its trunk was thick and wide, allowing both of you to hide from anyone who passed by or saw it in the distance. The tresses of leaves nearly showered onto the ground from its long branches that twisted and turned in ways that appeared like it was trying to hug itself. It almost looked like a huge, untrimmed dome, encircling you inside its core while it protected you from unwanted attention. It was perfect.

When you finally reached it, you pushed back some of the leaves so you could walk into the dimly lit and vast space it naturally created and plopped yourself against the trunk with a deep exhale. Draco sat down with you, adjusting himself so that he could lay his head on your lap, humming comfortably when your fingers began their usual work through the soft strands of his hair.

You sat there in silence as the both of you thought, and thought, and thought. It was hard to believe that only this morning you were standing in the room of requirement with him, shocked and distressed that he had finally fixed the vanishing cabinet. Now Snape and the rest of the Death Eaters were aware of the new opening into Hogwarts, preparing to set ablaze the school with pain and some sort of destruction.

You looked down at the boy in your lap, a permanent wrinkle in between his eyebrows as he lied staring straight ahead, a lost look in his gray eyes that you hadn’t seen in so long.

“What are you thinking about?” You asked softly. One of your hands had trailed from his hair and rested gently on his forehead, your pinky gently trying to smooth out the crease between his eyes.

“I should have never fixed the cabinet,” he sighs and sits up to face you. You noticed the glassy look and reddened lash lines, the storming tears ready to come out at any moment.

"Draco, anything that happens next is not your fault,” you tried to reassure but it only made him feel worse.

“No, it’s not only that,” he lets out a shaky breath, letting the first tear fall that he couldn’t hold back. “I have to dedicate myself to my second task now.”

You froze as you remembered the biggest responsibility he had, demanded to him by the Dark Lord himself - the obligation of killing Dumbledore. A mere 16-year-old boy, who was in the middle of a collapsed world and broken judgments, was burdened with the worst trial of them all.

Draco shuddered at the thought, moving to sit beside you against the tree as he sat with his knees pulled to his chest and the waterfall of tears now falling freely down his face.

“I can’t kill him, I don’t want to kill him,” he lamented, “I can’t do it. He’ll kill me first before I can even try.”

You placed a hand on his arm, rubbing soothing circles into it as you let him cry and thought of what you could say. The vanishing cabinet was one thing, but this, this was a life. This was someone who is known to be the most powerful wizard of all time, the only one alive right now who the enemy truly feared. This was someone who everyone needed alive at this time. If Draco went through with this, he would never be able to recover. You know he doesn’t want to do it, at all, and having everyone else in his life nag at him in encouragement is the opposite of what he needs. You truly couldn’t give him any advice on what he can do or why he should.

“I don’t think he would,” you started quietly, trying to find the words to piece together what you wanted to say, “kill you, I mean. I think you’re so used to You-Know-Who, that, you forget Dumbledore isn't evil and is merciful. And maybe, if you stall long enough, someone else can do it? Maybe Bellatrix.”

Draco let out a bitter chuckle, shaking his head at the suggestion, “my dear aunt Bellatrix more than anyone, wants me to do it.”

“I wish there was something I could do to help,” you frowned, letting the back of your head fall against the tree as you stared up at the swinging greenery above you.

“You can help by keeping yourself alive,” he sniffles, his cold hand enveloping itself in yours as he spoke. “If there was one good thing that came out of all of this, it’s you. I think you not being here on this Earth, would feel far, far worse than taking Dumbledore’s life.”

He brought your hand up to his lips, pressing a warm kiss onto the skin before he held it against his chest.

“I wish I could put you in a bubble and send you up above the clouds so you could watch the sky all day and be happy, and most of all safe from everything evil,” he muses, a slight smile on your lips as you listened to his wish. His fingers began twirling around the band on your wrist, the same band he had gifted you the night before when everything seemed to be okay, in a sense.

“Evil will always be here, Dark Wizards present or not,” you remind him gingerly, “just as there will always be good. It’s a balance, one can’t be here without the other.”

“I suppose you’re right,” he sighs. “But I still wish it was possible to send you away in a bubble.”

“If that was possible, you know you would come with me, right?” You turn your head, smiling at him when he met your eyes. You brought up your held hand, wiping away the stray tears that had lingered on his paled cheeks as he kept a firm grasp on your wrist.

“I would love to go with you,” he said tenderly, heart-swelling at how easy you made him feel calm and present. It was wonderous, he felt, how someone had managed to make him feel this way. He never would have thought he’d have someone who genuinely loved him and he loved back, in his love life. Especially not at this time, in this year, where he was facing his worst tribulations and turmoils. 

You leaned your head on his shoulder, both of you now staring up into the darkening grayed sky that peeked through the mess of leaves above. 

“It’s getting dark, we should probably go soon,” you mumble tiredly, noticing how the moon was already starting to make an appearance behind the heavy gray clouds. "And it looks like it's about to rain."

As soon as the words left your mouth, there was a loud cracking of thunder, the tree’s branches surrounding you suddenly shaking at the sound. You shot up to your feet, Draco following closely as the two of you heard a whining sound coming directly from the trunk of the tree. Its leaves began to move wildly in the wind that approached, more booming of thundering filling the air as a storm above began to brew. The branches began to swing carefully and more inwards as if it was alive and closing itself up from any danger that was coming from around or above it. The leaves were falling over one another, covering up any spaces in the tree that the constricting branches couldn’t cover.

“Draco,” you say timidly, reaching for his hand in fear, “is it just me, or is the tree moving?”

The space underneath the tree had shrunken significantly, it was now a small circle going around the trunk that was big enough to walk around but not enough to run through like you once could. Whatever light the outside was able to offer was now gone, the cracking and compressing branches and leaf clumps blocked out everything from the outside, including the rain that you could very loudly hear pattering against the fronds above you.

“I think its closed us in,” Draco mutters, moving you behind his back as he pulled his wand from his pocket and whispered a quick, ‘lumos,’ so that the two of you could see. He held you behind him protectively as he stepped towards the walls of the tree, pushing against the leaves and branches that were now tightly contracted together that allowed no room for escape. “We’re stuck in here - unless you want to blast a hole through it.”

“No!” you exclaim immediately. You moved away from him and walked towards the trunk of the tree, placing a gentle hand on the dry wood that still seemed to be faintly buzzing from its movement. “We’re not going to hurt it.”

“Y/N, we’re stuck in here, no one knows where we are-” he tries to reason more but you shush him quickly.

“And that’s such a bad thing?” you scoff, moving to press your ear against the wood as you tried to examine it more. You heard the same whining from earlier but much weaker now, its bellows fading now as it felt protected from the storm.

“What are you doing?” 

There was confusion written all over the blond’s face as he watched you inspect the tree, curious and concerned with your attentiveness.

“Dray, come here,” you rushed out, motioning towards you so he would hurry over. He let you grab his free hand when he reached you since his wand hand was still casting the only light around you. You placed it against the trunk of the tree with yours, a sudden vibration shooting up his arm at the contact with the wood. “The tree is a sentient. It’s alive and very aware.”

“What, so like the Whomping Willow?”

“Exactly like that, but not aggressive at all,” you nod, beaming up at him. “I think it knows we’re here too.”

For a moment, there was finally a fleeting feeling of glee as both of your worries from the outside left you, allowing reverence and excitement to fill you and spread to Draco.

“You speak tree now?” He snickers, smirking at you when you rolled your eyes.

You leaned your head against the tree, closing your eyes as you quietly thanked it for its protection from the thunder and the rain and its beauty. Draco’s gaze stayed on you, watching you with wonder and fullness in his heart. He began to question himself how someone like you was real, who was so caring with everything you touched, from nature to people. You radiated bravery, loyalty, strong intelligence, and ambition wherever you went and in every situation, you were in. 

How did I get so lucky, he kept thinking.

From the corner of his eye, he noticed a bright glittering blue light, and then a purple one, then a pink, and a white. He fully looked up and inhaled faintly when he saw what they all were. 

Small translucent and thin stringy flowers of all colors that he could think of began to illuminate themselves from the many branches of the tree before floating off, dancing and twirling in the air as they descended towards the two of you. He noticed they looked nearly identical to spider lily’s - all thanks to Professor Sprout when he was forced to learn several different flowers in her class. 

He nudged you gently, pointing up to the air when you opened your eyes and you stepped away from the trunk to look around in awe. There must have been at least a hundred of them spinning and flying, their petals bouncing up and down as they carried themselves around the open area.

You reached up your palm, catching one in your hand as it landed daintily and glowed a bright rose color, its petals still lifting up and down like if it was keeping itself afloat. You turned to bring it carefully towards Draco, almost jumping up and down in excitement that it was on you. He turned off the light of his wand with an easy, ‘nox,’ putting it away now that the area was now fully lit up in beautifully twinkling lights. He smiled down at you, placing both his hands under your one as he helped you hold it up since you were nearly exploding from happiness.

“I’ve never seen anything like this,” you whispered in wonder. “I didn’t even know trees could do this! Our tree!”

“I think this is only because of you, darling,” he whispers back. “You have a way of bringing dull things to life.”

Your gaze flickered up, smiling warmly at him before pushing up gently on the flower, encouraging it to fly away so you could move. You got closer to the Slytherin, his arms encircling around your waist once you were flush against him. One of the green flowers had landed on the top of his hair, settling itself carefully on him. 

“I’ve got one on me, haven’t I?” He chuckles and you nod, a bright smile on your face as you looked between him and the flower.

“It likes you,” you beam. “But, not as much as I do.”

He laughs a real laugh of delight and amusement, squeezing you delicately tighter against him. 

“Obviously.”

You stood on your tip-toes to reach his tall figure, craning your face up and pressing your lips against his in a loving match. You parted your lips and allowed his warmth to wash all over you in comfort, all thoughts being numbed at the feeling. As your lips continued to move against his, you began to feel a tickling all over your hair and whatever skin was exposed to the air. You pulled away from him curiously, gasping softly when you saw that all the flowers had flown down towards the two of you landing and sitting on you both as if they were attracted like magnets.

Draco moved one of his clasped hands from your waist up to your cheek, grinning to himself as you leaned your head into his touch. 

“I’m glad this tree has us trapped in here,” he mutters. “I wouldn't want to be anywhere else with the one I love.”

“I love you more, Draco.”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 

The two of you awoke to the sound of cracking wood and swooshing leaves, a cold breeze following quickly as it encompassed you. You gradually opened your eyes, seeing that the tree was expanding and moving back to its original state and appearing back to normal. Carefully sitting up, you realized the flowers were gone, there was no sight of them anywhere. If it wasn’t for Draco being there with you, you would’ve thought you imagined the whole thing.

Speaking of the said boy, he groaned beneath you, balled fists going up to his closed eyes as he began to rub his sleep away. The early morning light had streamed through weakly through the clouds and through the leaves onto you. 

“I wonder if anyone looked for us,” you yawned carelessly, standing up and flattening down the wrinkles on your clothes. You outstretched your hands and back, deeply exhaling at the feeling of relief from the ground below you.

“Probably,” Draco answered sleepily, standing himself up and wiping himself off of all dirt and grime. “We should go back now before it locks s in again.”

You skipped over to the trunk of the tree, placing your hand on it once again and whispering to it a tender, “thank you.”

You could’ve sworn it whined something back, but you brushed it off at your drowsiness and continued towards the castle with Draco.

The two of you walked quietly hand in hand to your common room, stopping outside of it with a sigh as you read a clock on a far-away wall.

7:42 AM

“How long have we been out?” You question fearfully.

“No idea,” he yawns. “Must have been a very long time though.”

Draco freezes in his spot, feeling his body crawl with what felt like tiny spiders when he saw who was standing at the end of one of the nearby corridors, a scowl on his face when they made eye contact.

“Go inside and get yourself cleaned up and ready for the day, love,” he rushed out, placing a quick kiss on your forehead and parted lips as he nudged you towards the entrance. “I’ll see you later, yeah?”

You tiredly nodded, giving the required password to the common room before sneakily stepping inside and tip-toeing towards your room.

When the doors finally closed and you were gone, Draco turned down the corridor and started towards a furious Snape down the way. The raven-haired man stayed glued where he stood, patiently waiting for the young Death Eater to approach him so he could swiftly unleash hell on him.

“I have been searching for you all night,” Snape snapped lowly. “Where did the two of you run off to?”

“We got stuck somewhere, but I’m here now,” Draco answers, staring into the accusatory eyes in front of him. 

“You better hope you kissed her your final goodbye,” he snarls. “They’re coming tonight, and you must carry out your last duty - tonight.”

“Tonight?” Draco echoes emptily, feeling like whatever happiness he had left in his body from last night was slowly trickling down his body and out into the floor like a sad, melted popsicle.

“Yes, and after tonight you will no longer be a student here,” Snape reminds with a hushed tone. “Miss Y/L/N cannot follow you. I hope you understand that. it would be incredibly dangerous for you and her.”

“No,” Draco begins to shake his head in refusal, his heart dropping to his stomach as the realities began to set in. “I don’t want to leave her, I don’t know how.”

“I think it’s time you start figuring out how,” his Professor suggests inconsiderately. “Room of requirement at nightfall, you’re opening up the cabinet for them so they’re able to transport. Come alone and prepared to leave the school.”

Before Draco could try to argue, Snape brushed past him and disappeared down the corridor and past a corner, leaving behind a pain-stricken boy who was stupidly in love with someone he couldn’t find in him to let go.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 

Something was off and unsettling, you noticed. You weren’t sure where it came from, but you felt it eat away at you even though nothing had happened to you. You came home feeling wonderful from an impromptu dreamy night with Draco, completely love-struck and ditzy and halfway through your shower was when it was all washed away and replaced with dread.

You wondered if this is somehow how Draco was feeling before deciding against your gut.

I’m not a mind reader, you thought repeatedly.

It was odd how you saw him nowhere around the school, even more, odd when you hadn’t seen him in your shared Potions class that left you partnering up with your friend who didn’t mind the on and off switching. She asked you eagerly about your disappearance, expecting juicy details but was immediately bored when you gave her a watered-down story of what had happened.

“Oh, we were just watching the stars and accidentally fell asleep outside,” you lied, trying to force excitement in your voice to make the story more believable.

“That’s it?” she deadpanned. “You guys are so boring. Also, what if something attacked you guys? The Forbidden Forest is right there.”

You rolled your eyes, secretly wishing the two of you really were a simple boring couple and not facing the most life-threatening and scariest adversities. 

“I’m sure one of us would’ve woken up if we heard something,” you shrug and she sighs, shaking her head.

There was still no sign of him after this class. And there was still no sign of him after the rest of the schooling day had ended.

You sat with your friends in the bumbling busy courtyard, listening to them quietly as they chatted happily. You were worried out of your mind, the pit in your stomach growing wider when you saw Draco’s familiar group of Slytherins gathered together in the distance, not a single platinum head in sight.

As the day continued into the evening and people were making their trip over to the Great Hall, you made up a quick excuse to your friends and broke off from them to scourge the school in its emptiness. It was quickly getting dark, you finally decided to follow your instincts and let yourself bound down the stoned staircase towards the even darker lit dungeons. It was empty and cold, a dooming atmosphere for no apparent reason.

As you were about to turn around, you heard the door to the Slytherin common room open and relief flooded you when you saw Draco emerge from the exit with a new black suit on, perfectly styled and gelled hair, and a somber expression on his face. He looked paler than usual, almost gray, the way he looked when you had found him that day in Moaning Myrtle’s bathroom with a curse ravaging his body.

“Draco!” You called out to him excitedly, running towards him and wrapping your arms around him tightly when you reached him. He felt rigid underneath your touch, a distant look in his eyes as he looked down at you quickly. “Where have you been all day?”

“I’ve had to take care of some stuff,” he murmurs in response.

“Are you okay?” You ask carefully as you observed him. He was cold, emotionally, and physically. He resembled his house’s ghost, the Bloody Baron, cold and angry with hidden despair - just without all the blood. 

“I’m fine.”

You stepped away from him at his answer, peering up at him in confusion at his sudden aloofness. 

“I need to tell you something,” he ends up breathing out after a moment of awkward tension. His hand wraps around your forearm instead of his usual spot in your hand, nearly dragging you towards an empty classroom that was a few feet away from where you both stood.

He closed the door warily behind him once the two of you were inside, the dingy lamps in the room automatically lighting up when they sensed a presence so you wouldn’t be left in the dark.

“So, what do you need to tell me?” You begin to wring your hands in distress, not feeling hopeful under his miserable gaze.

“We need to end this, here, right now,” he spits out quickly, a troubled expression taking over his features as soon as the words left his lips.

There was a thick silence that fell over the room, a heavy tension that grew with every passing second was bursting at the seams of the walls. You couldn’t think straight, your heart feeling like it had fallen into your back and your stomach bubbling dangerously with bile you desperately wanted to release.

“What do you mean,” you ask stupidly. The tiniest piece of you was desperately hoping that he had meant something completely different than your relationship.

“You and me,” he pointed between the two of you brokenly. “I have to kill Dumbledore tonight, and then I have to leave.”

“I’ll go with you,” you promptly offer, nodding in agreement with yourself.

“You can’t,” he asserts sadly, walking up to you and placing both hands on either side of your biceps, gripping you tightly in place as if you were toppling over. “Y/N, this is the one time you can’t help me. If you come with me tonight, someone will hurt you.”

You stared up at him in dread, relentless tears streaming down your face as he stared back at you with the same look. He was breaking apart, his insides shriveling up in agony while he spoke and continued to hurt you.

“But when will I see you again?” you cry out hoarsely, letting your head fall against his chest as he moves to hug you tightly.

“I don’t know,” he whispers out. 

“Draco, please let me come with you,” you begin to plead into the jacket of his suit. “I’ll hide, transfigure me into a goblet, anything! Just please don’t leave again. You promised!”

“I can’t,” he shakes his head. You felt his hot tears land onto the top of your hair, adding more fuel to your anguish. “You have to stay here, in this room, until I’m gone.”

“Are you that dense?” you cry wildly, pushing yourself away from him as you gave him a look of pure anger. “You expect to let me wait here like a sitting duck while I could be out there helping you somehow.”

Draco watched you with remorse, his hand reaching into his suit pocket before drawing his wand out on you with a vigorous trembling hand. You gasped, quick to reach for your own with the same shakiness before it was thrown out of your grasp the second you pointed it at him.

“Expelliarmus,” he said quickly, voice matching his hand. He looked at you painfully again before sputtering out, “locomotor mortis.”

Your legs locked together from beneath you, sending you tumbling backward into an empty desk beside you. You caught yourself on the edges of the desk, staring agape at a shuddering Draco a few feet away.

“I’m sorry,” he cried hard, “I’m so sorry, but I have to keep you safe.”

“Draco, I swear,” you wailed out in despair, “if you leave me here, I will never forgive you.”

Draco halted, contemplating his next move for only a minute. His heart thudding fast against his chest, yearning to give into you as he weighed out his options. He swallowed thickly and turned on his heel towards the door. When his hand landed on the brass handle, he turned back one more time to look at you and felt his world completely and irreversibly shatter.

You were in hysterics, legs stuck together and your hands barely being able to hold yourself up on the desk. You had a despondency about you now, weeping strongly in heartbreak that was caused by him.

He speedily opened the door and threw himself out, shutting it tightly once again and placing his wand against the handle.

“Colloportus,” the lock chimed with a magnifying and powerful click.

He let his head quietly fall against the door, tormenting himself further when he heard your continued cries and now yelling out a pained, “you promised!”

Nothing was holding him together now as he ripped himself away from the door and began his walk to the room of requirement. There was no more hope, no more tranquility, no more comfort. He couldn’t run back to you at the end of the night and let you heal him with soft reassurances and tender kisses. He couldn’t feel your hug anymore or the way you’d lull him to sleep after a rough day with your hands in his hair. It was all gone, all of it. Including you.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 

You don’t know how long you cried or when you had fallen to the floor and accidentally fallen asleep in your hopelessness.

When you finally woke up, the room was especially dark now, the lights having been dimmed to nothing as the room had thought you were gone. All you could feel was grief and dejection, everything you knew and loved had been torn away from you; because it was.

When you subsequently felt some of your energy return, you rolled yourself around the floor, extending your arm to grab onto something sturdy so you could hoist yourself up and begin looking for your wand. Luckily, the lights lit up again when they sensed your figure begin to hop around the room, allowing you to search much more easily.

You hopped down each row of scattered desks, searching high and low for where your wand might have been thrown when you were disarmed. You mentally cursed Draco again for the thousandth time that night, the throbbing in your body growing stronger while you thought of how he had left.

You found yourself regretting the bluff you threw at him, feeling stupid now that he was gone with the idea that you might hate him. You regretted letting your rage and sadness get to you, yelling at him things you didn’t mean all because you were angry he was trying to do to protect you.

Stuck in your head and mindlessly hopping towards the front of the room where Draco had hit you with both spells, you didn’t see your wand under your shoe until it had rolled out from underneath you, sending you falling into a set of desks that were lined up behind you. 

The impact of the fall barely phased you, weakly shifting yourself upright and bending over and outstretching a hand towards your wand. When you finally felt it between your fingers, you dragged it towards you and into your grasp before hurriedly pointing it towards your legs and muttering the counter-curse to unbind yourself. Once you felt the feeling back in your legs, you jumped up and ran towards the door only to slam against it, unknowing to you that Draco had also spelled the door before he left.

“Arse,” you mutter, touching your wand against the lock and speaking out a clear, “alohomora.”

When you stepped out into the gloomy freezing corridor of the dungeons, you knew something was wrong. It was clear in the air that something awful had just happened, every feeling of sadness seeping deep into the stone of the castle.

You flew up the stairs, running as fast as you could towards the Quad where everyone was gathered like zombies. Your legs continued carrying you out, looking up at the sky to see a huge Dark Mark painted in the grayed clouds above. Your gut was screaming at you the reason why, but you didn’t want to believe it until you had seen the evidence of your thoughts lying on the ground not far from you.

It was Dumbledore, motionless, and gone.

Harry was sitting above him, Ginny hugging him tightly as he cried quietly. You felt your tears prick your eyes, feeling guilty that you had known all along what was going to happen, guilty that you couldn’t do anything to stop it, guilty that there was no one to challenge against the evil that doomed the wizarding world, guilty that you couldn’t help Draco against it.

You kept telling yourself he couldn’t have done it, he couldn’t have, but it was clear as day - the scene in front of you. You swallowed the lump in your throat, allowing yourself to cry with your school in grief, crying even more while the second loss you experienced tonight had begun to work itself back into your tears.

And when everyone had cleared out, and it was just Harry and a few others, including some Professors, you begrudgingly made yourself walk up to the group. It was hard, seeing Harry and his friends stare at you with a look you couldn’t quite place. A look between pity and something unidentifiable.

“I’m sorry,” you let out hoarsely to Harry as you finally neared them. “I know this must be hard for you.”

“Yeah, thanks,” he answered awkwardly. “I saw it happen, you know.”

“Oh,” you frown, rubbing your sweaty palms against your jeans as you waited for him to curse you out, to yell at you for Draco’s wrongdoings and murderous feat. But he didn’t. He only stared at you sadly.

“If you wanted to know,” he began, shoving his hands into the pockets of his hoodie as he spoke, “Malfoy didn’t do it, he couldn’t.”

There was a solace that ran deep within you at the revelation. A shaky exhale quietly falling from your lips while you tried to hide your relief. You silently thanked the stars for sparing Draco, knowing now that there was still hope he could be saved.

“So then who did it?” You ask timidly.

“Snape,” he shook his head glumly, “it was Snape.”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 

There was a loud snapping sound ringing throughout the Malfoy Manor as Draco apparated inside the living room with his mother, clutching tightly onto her as he stumbled over his feet, feeling sick to his stomach and distraught at everything he had to live through that night. 

He fell to his knees, backing himself up against a wall as he began clutching at his chest, gasping desperately for air as his panic attack had started to tear away at him. He was breathing erratically, tears falling from his eyes in rivers as he tried to remove the suit jacket that felt too tight against him.

Narcissa Malfoy looked down at her son, fear and sorrow suddenly undertaking her as she bent down to sit in front of him. She was momentarily glad she felt the need to meet the others near the outskirts of the school’s failing barrier, instantly grabbing Draco from the group when everyone was planning on staying longer for further destruction. One broken look on his face was all she needed to whirl the two of them out of there and back into their large empty house.

“Breathe, Draco,” she said softly, placing a warm hand on his wet cheek as he continued to sob. “Breathe.”

“I left her,” he choked out through his tears, “mother, I left her!”

“Who?” Narcissa asked, puzzled. “Who did you leave?”

But he didn’t answer her. He only cried harder and it didn’t stop even though his mother was holding him reassuringly in her embrace. She swiftly realized that there was more than he was letting on, and she knew that these weren’t only tears from what had happened with his failed task, she knew his tears mostly came from an ache deep within his heart, from an anguishing love.

“I left her there!” He cried loudly in her arms, clutching onto her tightly as he continued to struggle for his breath and sanity. She felt her own heart begin to break, wishing so deeply she could remove all hurt that stabbed at him.

“Draco, my love,” she tried again gently, “who did you leave?”

“Y/N,” he croaked out, “I left Y/N.”

PART 5

TAGLIST:

@viirgobbyy​ @bluesunflowersz​ @dreamyvcid​ @goddessofgames @natt-nih​ @cheesecakes-randomshitz​ @supersouthy​ @rebellionsarebuiltonhopee​ @peter-parka​ @thefandomplace​ @angelofslytherin​ @blueleonor​ @karentheugly​

(I’m sorry if I forgot anyone, I <3 all of you and everyone who read this)

#draco malfoy #draco lucius malfoy #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy imagine #draco malfoy x y/n #draco malfoy x you #draco malfoy x hufflepuff!reader #draco malfoy x ravenclaw!reader #draco malfoy x gryffindor #draco malfoy x slytherin #draco malfoy fic #draco malfoy series #draco x reader #draco x y/n #draco x you #draco malfoy angst #draco malfoy fluff #draco malfoy fanfiction #harry potter writing #harry potter imagine #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter fandom #harry potter

[astro-pioneer]

I can't stop thinking about knight!Dain only protecting one person of royalty that he loved and they both get cursed-

yeah, wrute it ❗😃

Your Sword and Shield 『Dainsleif』

The royals were the highest priority - "Protect the heir above everyone else" was his only direct order as the Twilight Sword. But yet, when the gods descended and destroyed Khaenri'ah while he did as ordered, both got punished. And now, both search the world for the other. | We Will Be Reunited spoilers | Angst to fluff (somewhat)

Oh lordy anon I just- ugh. This has been marinating in my thoughts ever since it was revealed all because I thought of ball dancing with him. Plus Dain is a beauty of a man who would treat you right and no one can tell me otherwise. This went a different way then how I thought of it but that's just because I can't properly write my thoughts lmao. Yikes I got tired of this for some reason lmao I'll do a part two that focuses more on (Y/N) travelling with Aether after the whole shebang happened so stay tuned for that (:

The Twilight Sword's job was to protect the nation and population of Khaenri'ah. But, at the same time, it was also to put the heir of the royal family first, as he was a royal guard first and foremost. It was so conflicting and, no matter which choice was made, there would always be a negative aftermath. Dainsleif was aware of that and told himself that he'd never allow his personal feelings influence his actions.

He lied to himself.

Soft music travelled through the big, barren room. Only two people were in there. They didn't perform any exaggerated movements like someone normally would doing a dance, but instead bathed in each other's company. "Darling, I feel as though there will be war in the near future with the gods and us. When that time comes, please put the citizens before me." If only the couple knew how near that future would be. Maybe he wouldn't have lied to his lover, too.

That following night, the blond watched as the curse bestowed upon him just moments ago spread from their back and up their neck. Just to spite Dainsleif even more, the gods made it spread down their left arm, the opposite of where it went on him. The pained screams of the other filled their heads, echoing whenever a moment of silence comes onto them.

Looking back at it while waiting for Aether to meet back with him from talking to Boreas, he realized just how twisted the incident was. He did his job as a royal guard; he protected the royal he was assigned to. After all, orders given by superiors always overruled the ones you originally had. And yet here Dainsleif was, donning a cursed arm and no luck in finding his lost eternal companion.

(Y/N) was somewhere in Teyvat - somewhere in Mondstadt, and the archons be damned if they don't expect him to tear apart this nation to find them. But, before all that, he has to accompany the outlander and his child companion to inhibit another one of the Abyss Order's plans.

"The first Field Tiller," a person donning clothes similar to those Dainsleif wears whispered to themselves, "forced to sit and face the reason it's origin was destroyed." They, too, turned to where the machinery was facing, gazing up to the floating island. "Celestia..."

The breeze erupting from the still harsh wind barriers of the ruins hit their face, causing them to close their eyes and enjoy the moment for a while. "Your creation was the topic of multiple people's conversation for a long time, Tiller, my family being no exception. I remember watching you in action; you flattened an area the size of these ruins with no damage. But, when mass produced after your success, the other machines were much weaker and less efficient. Perhaps that's why we fell under the threat of the gods." They spat out the title like it was venom. "If only they took more time with the future models and made it more like you, we would've been able to set them all loose into the battlefield.

"And yet here I stand in front of you, talking about all the 'what if's instead of a 'what now?' and acting like I can go back and change what happened to us. There are two other people from Khaenri'ah in this nation, but one wants to stop what has become of my people and the other is conflicted on the original orders given by someone I do not know of. While I do not know what to do. My darling is fighting the Abyss Order, and perhaps that is the rightful path. After all, this world has changed, and only a small few are not dependant on the Seven. That rules out trying to recreate Khaenri'ah. Besides, no one would react orderly to a nation without a god, and the citizens of that nation would refuse to work with the land ruled by the Seven. A war would break out all over again. Besides, my people have gone so far down into whatever madness they fell in that they probably do not remember what it originally was."

They knew nothing would be near to listen to their vocal thoughts, but yet they stopped in favour of silently reminiscing. The scent of despair, corruption, and bloodshed was nearing, and yet they didn't move. "Perhaps I've prolonged our reunion for far too long..." A smile that showed the pain of 500 years of torture appeared on their face.

Paimon held her hands to her face as the trio got closer to the Field Tiller, "Oh, Paimon's got a bad feeling about this..." And yet, they still went in, stopping at the Statue of the Seven before Paimon stopped them again. "Wait! Who's that person?" She gasped then, "Are they a part of the Abyss? Are they here for the eye?"

With one look, Dainsleif knew who it was. "I can assure you, that person is one of the last people you can expect to be a part of it." He tore his eyes off of them, turning to look at the concerned face of Aether and scared Paimon. "Well then, let us go check." To believe he allowed his front to drop just enough for Aether to catch. He clicked his tongue before leading the way up.

(E/C) eyes with primogem-shaped pupils revealed themselves to the world once again. The same as those of Dainsleif, Aether connected. "(Y/N)..." The taller blond breathed, forcing himself to not go over immediately. Who knows how much they changed in the 500 years they were separated?

"Hello, darling. I wish we could've reunited under less life-altering events, but..." The rest went unspoken but the two knew what they meant. "I do not know if the eye is still in here, but this is indeed the Field Tiller."

Paimon gasped, pointing a finger. "How'd you know what we were looking for?!" (Y/N) arched an eyebrow at the floating companion.

"An abyss mage left behind a talisman which was presumably meant for one of his superiors. It spoke of the Guardian of the Vortex and a "Defiled Statue" as well as the Field Tiller's eye. But yet, despite being reassured I'm not a threat, you still assume until given proof. That's good."

"'His'? I've never heard of someone use those pronouns for abyss mages. Or any, now that I really think about it." The smile was melancholic and filled with sorrow Aether only saw in the reminiscent ones of Venti and Zhongli. Paimon understood to drop the subject. "Anyway, use elemental sight to see if the eye is in there!"

Dainsleif's and (Y/N)'s capes waved in the breeze as Aether couldn't find the eye. It was on there, however. When it was extracted, (Y/N) couldn't help but analyze and compare it to the other tillers they themselves looked inside of. However, they didn't dare touch it or disagree with the decision to leave it with their significant other. A gem gleamed in the sunlight.

"Would you like to go with us (Y/N)?" For the first time Aether talked to them. "We're going to the place with the Defiled Statue if you were interested."

And just like how Dainsleif agreed to join Aether for any commissions with the Abyss, they looked into his eyes, "Sure." It was when they started the trek from the waypoint to the cavern that the two finally interacted fully. "I'm glad to see you're safe," their voice was the same tone they held when they spoke of the war of Khaenri'ah, going miles while their words only spoke of their feelings. Corrupted hands interlaced together for the first time.

#✩ neptune #✎ expedition #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #dainsleif x reader

[stellocchia]

So, the encounter between c!Dream and c!Tommy in the prison was really interesting and I wanted to delve a bit deeper into it

So, we know Tommy is the first person to visit Dream (this is confirmed by both Dream and Sam, so I'd say it's accurate), which means Dream spent around a day alone in the cell, which is quite a bit.

Immediately when starting the conversation Tommy asks him if he missed him specifically, to which he immediately answers no, which contradicts something he said later on, when he listed Tommy among the people he missed when answering a more general question. Why is this important? Because Dream has been characterized as someone who mostly lacks empathy, he sees everyone as a pawn or a plaything, they aren't people to him, that said being in the prison is clearly a hindrance and the only person who visited him is Tommy. To convince Tommy to help him get out he needs to convince him he changed and regrets his actions, but he doesn't. He doesn't even know specifically which actions he's supposed to regret or what he's supposed to miss, which is why he does just fine when he can answer vaguely, but either his answers result unsympathetic or he gets upset when asked more specific questions.

Of course another thing we can understand from the first interaction is the tone this conversation will have: Tommy is trying to prod and provoke Dream and he's doing it because he needs to prove to himself that Dream doesn't have any more power over him, while Dream in response is trying to manipulate Tommy into believing he's a changed person so that he may be released in the near future.

They then have some general conversation and talk about the spawn trap mechanism that's keeping Dream trapped, but it's of little importance. Then Dream at one point says "Well I'm in prison now, so there's no reason for them to hate me anyway" which is quite important to, once again, showcase his lack of empathy. Because of course everyone has every reason to hate him after what he did to them, especially Tommy and Tubbo, but everyone else as well! Him getting a just punishment for his actions doesn't mean he's owed forgiveness by anyone. Dream though doesn't understand this because he can't empathize with the people he's hurt, he can't understand them.

Then it's Tommy's turn to say exactly why he's there: "Turns out I've had all the power over you all along, I just didn't know it" this is what he's trying to convince himself of. This, confirming this belief is the reason why he's here in the first place. It's the reason why he's taunting Dream and trying to annoy him to see if he'll retaliate, to see if Tommy really is free and in control now. But Dream of course doesn't concede, not once. Tommy went in with the idea of getting control back over his life, but now he has to go back again because Dream never once gave in.

Also one thing to notice is that multiple times during their interactions Tommy does sympathize with Dream. He has to remind himself out loud not to feel bad for him (with things like: "deserved... you deserve it") because Dream fully intended to do this to him after murdering his best friend in front of him just the day before. To further compare the two of them Tommy goes on a whole tirade repeating what Dream used to tell him in exile, clearly trying to get an emotional reaction, maybe an apology now that his abuser is in such a similar situation to what he was into, but Dream only repeats multiple times that he wants Tommy to visit him and ends it almost like an order: "Just visit me!". Once again Tommy is the one pushing and trying to make him empathize, but Dream doesn't, he has no empathy.

And now it's Dream's turn to reveal his intentions: "Maybe I'll be better and you'll let me out". Dream, for all his faults, tends to always be quite direct with Tommy when it comes to his intentions, though he does cover them up with layers of manipulation, he still does have a tendency to tell him out loud at the start. He did this during the exile as well. Everything he does in this meeting, especially from here on out, is in function of his objective. Tommy answers no at first but then, as soon as Dream insists a bit, he's suddenly confused, there is quite a bit of hesitation before he changes subject without responding. And Dream knows then that there is a possibility, he knows Tommy still cares and he can use it in his favour, because, to Tommy, their relationship is still incredibly confusing. Probably he still cares about Dream to some extent, which is perfectly fine and normal, it's actually very common for abuse victims to miss their abusers in some regards, but that's the reason why he really shouldn't be left alone with Dream.

We can see Dream immediately making use of this confusion he noticed as he doesn't loose a bit and apologizes right after that. And Tommy at first believes him, he utters the softest "really?" ever... but then he actually do a very smart thing and asks Dream to be specific, because if he really was sorry he could find at least one example of something he's sorry for. And here Dream falters, he gives the most general answer possible "I'm sorry for everything I did to you"... which means nothing and Tommy immediately starts to realize that, he actually fully realize it after he starts saying: "yeah but you could have said that last..." and realizes that it was just the night prior that Dream wanted to kill Tubbo and imprison him. This time Dream's manipulation doesn't work because Tommy realizes what he's doing.

"I can only help but not forgive you completely" the fact that Tommy still feels like he should help Dream really speaks volume about what kind of character he is. He's done some bad stuff in the past but he's most definitely one of the most empathetic and forgiving characters in the story, and, of course, there is the down side to that that he doesn't feel like he can completely abandon Dream, even after everything he's done to him. I mean, he said he wouldn't visit him every day because it took almost 50 mins just to get in, but he still planned to go in again 3 days after. Where Dream is incapable of empathy, Tommy has definitely too much of it.

Then there is the small bit with the books that Tommy says will help him forgive Dream, but, at this point, it's obvious he's just taunting him. Though it's very light hearted and Tommy can't bring himself to be too mean to Dream even in this situation. He does however realize that Dream is the one who needs to fix himself before anyone even starts thinking of forgiving him, so it's pretty good that he realizes that he doesn't have to forgive him immediately (he's not really under any obligation to ever forgive him, but Tommy tends to want to give people second chances).

And here we have the part with the biggest contradictions. Tommy offers Dream help (again, I don't think it's a good idea for them to be alone together) and he asks Dream how he's feeling, and Dream immediately starts contradicting some previous statements. At the beginning Tommy asked him if he was feeling sad, to which Dream answers no. Now, when the question is repeated, he immediately says he's feeling sad. He now has an objective and knows what he wants from Tommy and he's appealing at Tommy's extremely emphatic nature. Immediately after that he contradicts himself again by listing Tommy among the people he misses, contradicting his earlier statement. Also, once more, he's very vague in his answers (listing his friends, his things and the server as what he's lost, without being specific in any of the categories) the only thing he's specific about is Tommy who, coincidentally, just so happens to be the person he viewed as the key to get power. He doesn't care about any of the categories, he spent almost half the stream from yesterday explaining how he got rid of all his attachments, of course nothing changed in 24 hours! And we can see immediately that he doesn't really care as soon as Tommy asks a more specific question again: "Who do you miss the most?". Dream can't answer that question and he actually forces Tommy to leave after asking that. He can't answer because he doesn't miss anyone, he doesn't care about anyone. It's actually quite interesting that he has so much trouble with any of the specific questions, you'd think he'd know how to lie his way out of them, but no, he just finds himself with nothing to say, even when Tommy tries to give him an easy way out by mentioning Sapnap and George, Dream still doesn't know what to answer, because he doesn't care about them! He hasn't cared about either Sapnap or George in a very long time!

And just to remind Tommy that indeed he still isn't free of Dream's control, the last thing Dream does is telling Tommy to "get in the hole" knowing perfectly well that that will trigger the trauma he's caused him. If there was ever any doubt that he, in fact, doesn't actually regret anything, this clears it. Dream still has power over Tommy to a certain extent, be can still hurt him, he knows what his triggers are and knows how to use them and he's still trying to manipulate him. And if you're wondering if the phrasing was deliberate: yes, yes it was, he could have simply said "get in the water" like Sam did, but he didn't, because he's an ass.

So, in conclusion, neither Tommy nor Dream got what they wanted out of this encounter. Because, like Dream never gave Tommy control of the situation, Tommy didn't actually fall for Dream's manipulation. He didn't believe nor forgive him. Dream however did get Tommy to go to visit him again which is a partial win, maybe he'll be more ready for those specific questions next time.

Also can I just say I'm very happy that Tommy called out the clowns in chat who where sympathizing with Dream? You go child!

#dream smp #tommyinnit #dreamwastaken #pandora's vault #/rp #spoilers #analysis #character analysis #is it a character analysis or a relationship analysis? #I don't know #a bit of both I guess #tw manipulation #tw abuse mention #my post #long post #I really gotta learn how to make the continue under the cut thing

[mundane127]

nct127 as ideal summer holiday destinations and what it says about them.

taeil : jeju, south korea. taeil appreciates familiarity and finds comfort in travelling alone where he is able to move at his own pace. he doesn't need to plan out and follow a strict itinerary and need not worry about not being able to communicate. the kind to ditch conventional drives and impulsively ride a bike to enjoy the sea view. loves to self-indulge when he is alone - booking a beautiful suite near the beach and taste the freshest seafood. and yes, since music = taeil, watch him explore the hipster and rustic music stores where he has the luxury to spend as much time as he wish in his personal bubble away from the world.

taeyong : lisbon, portugal. a man of art - taeyong really enjoys that mix of rustic building and the rich culture. he is like a burst of colors, eccentric and expressive. might pop a dance move or two in the middle of the streets and loves to maybe just lay back and have a cup of coffee as he people watch. enjoys the preparation process of holidays, reads up and learns a few lines to communicate with locals. i can just see him with his tinted sunglasses, map in hand and a new friend he met a few minutes ago that finds him really friendly despite a language barrier behind the camera helping him snap pictures. taeyong lives in the moment.

johnny : mallorca, spain. music, beach and chill screams johnny. not getting drunk or going to clubs for five days straight kinda rave but more of enjoying the night scene to the fullest, basking in the local nightlife, unafraid to try interesting concoctions, vibe and free from the shackles of the world at the music festivals and meeting new people from around the world through wine-tasting and paddle surfing. won't hesitate to spend on trying local food and there's always a snack in one of his hand as he walk around. doesn't like plans too, very spontaneous and focuses on making memories even if he ends up at a dead end where he least expects it.

yuta : okinawa, japan. also enjoys domestic travels because he doesn't like the hassle or being bound to a tour guide in somewhere he isn't familiar with. besides, okinawa is a combination of so many other famous summer hotspots! slightly more on the adrenaline side, can dive and snorkle for many days if he enjoys it, researches on the top local food to eat and makes sure to structure a schedule to visit all of them. spends his final day on the beach sun-tanning, no thoughts and no worries at all and taking the opportunity to recharge fully to start afresh after the holiday. not exactly a big fan of shopping.

doyoung : amorgos, greece. apparently, the only way to get to this island in greece is by ferry and can take up to eight hours but the result at the end of it is exactly why doyoung started on this journey anyway. he is not only competitive, but very very tenacious and determined and believes that at the end of a long painful journey, he gets to savour the beautiful view. obsessed with being away from people, loves his alone time and probably carries a diary with him to document his holiday. may have chosen not to buy roaming so he can truly unwind. plans his finances well and stays in a hostel / guesthouse where he can find like-minded travelers.

jaehyun : istanbul, turkey. loves shopping and admiring the cultural elements of this modern yet rustic city. jaehyun gives off an energy where he likes trying everything but not exactly the kind that find importance in meeting new people. also another avid photographer, but rather than pictures of himself, he takes pictures of cats by the streets or locals going about their day. our boy may be a little shy and reserved contrary to what people often see and he is a 'feeler' so he remembers the moments in their scents, sounds and the energy it gives him. a quiet and peaceful traveller, don't want too much attention and emphasizes on blending in.

jungwoo : gold coast, australia. rubs off me as someone who really loves to spend his entire trip high on adrenaline and the capital of amusement parks is where jungwoo will be. has lots of fun even if he takes scary rollercoasters alone. an introvert with extrovert tendencies where he'll unknowingly crack jokes and naturally become the life of the party. his long day ends with him just taking nice long showers in his hotel bathtub with some good music to recharge from all the human interaction. not a detailed planner but likes having a rough idea of what to expect at the next amusement park he is about to conquer. always checks his documents.

mark : san diego, usa. we've seen how he blends in so well with the local asking whether they know that song. lonely travels are exciting because he gets to geek out without anyone else's opinion. honestly prefers nights over days because of human traffic, likes therapeutic activities like watching fireworks and star-gazing or cinemas under the stars. loves to just stand among many and enjoy music. may or may not take part in hot-dog eating competitions because of the sudden burst of energy. in a place where mark doesn't feel out of place and matches his energy, it is where his true self is unleashed.

haechan : bangkok, thailand. bold is the only word to describe haechan. crazy nightlife, food and shopping that he just cannot resist. wants to try everything and doesn't give two shit about anything else. so spontaneous and his only worry is about not having enough fun. haechan is youthful and i can only see him being so even in future. never plans and may lose his passport but doesn't sweat a single bit, he is street-savvy and he is definitely a master at thinking on his feet. probably someone who is actually very realistic and understands that everyone is living on borrowed time and why not make the best of it while he can.

#nct scenarios #nct scenario #nct reactions #taeil scenarios #taeyong scenarios #johnny scenarios #yuta scenarios #jaehyun scenarios #jungwoo scenarios #mark scenarios #haechan scenarios

[nonbinaryeye]

Mutual Curiosity is Foundation of Every Lasting Partnership

Written for @lonelyeyesweek

Day 5 - Gertrude Era

Peter Lukas is a really interesting person for a servant of the Lonely and James Wright would love to get to know him a bit better. Unfortunately his Archivist is there to interrupt their meeting a bit with very unreasonable complaints...

Read on AO3

…

“Mr Lukas, you are late.”

“I told you last time to feel free to start without me, Mr Wright.”

“I have. And I am done. All it needs is your signature. Unless you want to read through it of course…”

“Wonderful. At least I can be done here quickly.”

Even though at this point Peter Lukas could just scribble his signature and turn around he decides to sit on the chair opposite the current Head of the Magnus Institute: James Wright.

It is far from the first time James met Peter. They have been dealing together quite a lot. Rest of the Lukas family has probably realized Peter can tolerate James’ presence and so they have decided to use that fully. Surprisingly Peter does not seem to mind too much. Sure he complains about having to stop in London so often and about how uncomfortable he feels in the Institute or how hard it is to find office of the Head of the Institute but rarely about James himself which is… interesting.

James has dealt with lots of different Lukases during his lives and would dare to say he has always been able to pinpoint what they think about his current incarnation quite easily. Albeit it usually was ‘get rid of him as quickly as possible’ but that is not the point.

With Peter though, he has no idea what goes in his head during their interaction. He would love to just look and see for himself but with servant of the Lonely it is hard sometimes to see in their minds. And unfortunately for James even though Peter is still relatively young, he already has quite a strong bond with the Forsaken. Overall on a first look he speaks and appears as every other Lukas, doing his best to appear as distant as possible but his actions do not always match as sometimes it is Peter initiating further conversation instead of doing his best to avoid it.

“I am surprised you have a normal pen. From the look of this place I would expect I will have to sign it with a quill.”

“I am glad you appreciate the well preserved historical artefacts around the Institute. Do you know there really were only minor changes made in the office since the first founder Jonah Magnus?  It really is as if his presence was still there…”

“Are you just trying to suggest you need more money for the renovations, James?” As always, a subtle hint seems to go right over Peter’s head.

“I was not but when you are mentioning it… there are a few changes I would love to make given I would have enough finances for that.”

“Did we not agree on raising the budget on our last meeting?”

“We did? I cannot really recall…” Caught up in their conversation, James would almost not notice he is about to have another visitor quite soon. And she looks quite angry. “Hold that thought. As much as I would love to continue in our discussion I think you would probably prefer to disappear right now,” James, feeling merciful today, decides to warn his guest who looks at him confused.

“Why-…” Peter starts but then he hears clapping of heels quickly approaching the office and freezes in terror. He regains his senses and disappears to the Lonely just in time, right before Gertrude Robinson barges in.

“James,” Gertrude greets him coldly.

“Gertrude, pleasure to see you. What brings you to my office?” Head of the institute smiles at his Archivist.

 “Elias Bouchard.”

Of course. Of course it is him again… James tries not to sigh and keep his best helpful smile intact.

“What about him?”

“He was distracting one of my assistants again-…”

“Maybe he was just trying to help him?”

“And because he thought I was not there he decided it is alright to smoke there. Now the whole Archives smell like weed.”

“Well… at least he was mindful towards you? As you said – he would not do it in your presence...”

“And documentation on Michael Shelley’s desk caught on fire from his joint. I don’t think files for case 9790916 are salvageable” Gertrude’s voice remains cold but there is a sign of malice. Of course there is. She knows how important case files – the real ones – are for him. She raises her eyebrows waiting to see if James will come up with an excuse for this one too but honestly he is at a loss here.

“How… unfortunate.” The smile remains on the face of the Head of the Institute but he is clenching his fists under the table. He would start planning Elias’ murder by now if it was not planned already.

“I want to see some real consequences for him, James.” The fate of Elias Bouchard will be cruel enough but it all needs its time and James still needs at least a year to prepare everything.

“I’ll talk to him.”

“I want him fired.”

“Ah, isn’t it a bit rushed? Everyone can make a mistake sometimes…”

“Do I need to remind you of all the ‘mistakes’ he has done till now? I’ve actually made a list if you want to look over them,” Archivist offers because of course she has.

“No need to. I will make sure further incidents will not happen,” Head of the Institute says. Tone of his voice implies he is done with this discussion. Gertrude probably does not notice.

“I have my doubts.”

“I am sorry to hear that.”

Gertrude glances at him coldly. James reciprocates the stare. They stay like that for a couple of seconds, both of them refusing to be the first one to cut off the eye contact. This silly match could easily last minutes as it has happened in the past but this time they are all interrupted rather early into their unspoken fight by a couple of books falling on their side. As if something – or someone – bumped into the shelf the books are on…

They both turn towards the noise at the same time. James, knowing what exactly caused the mysterious event, focuses his attention back on Gertrude. She is staring right in the Peter’s direction, frowning. She doesn’t say anything but this is still quite interesting… as it is not exactly easy even for him to see through the thick fog of the Lonely.

“Anyhow do you need anything else?” As interesting it would be to test his Archivist’s abilities, he already has different plans with Peter today.

“Yes actually,” Gertrude turns back to him and hands him a file James has not even noticed till now, preoccupied worrying about the Archives. “When I had to climb all the way up here I also brought you a suggested budget for my research trip to India.”

“I will look over it and we can further discuss it tomorrow?”

“I have quite a mess in the Archives because of your assistant. I don’t think I will have time. Maybe you should just approve it as it is,” for the first time since she has entered the room Gertrude smiles at him. James is already worried about what all she wants.

“I will see. Now is that all?”

“Yes that is all.”

“Have a good day then,” James waves his hand towards the door hoping this really is the end of their discussion and the Archivist seems to finally be satisfied as well. She gives him a nod instead of words of goodbye and finally decides to leave him alone. Well, alone till Peter re-emerges from the Lonely. It takes him a few minutes as he probably wants to be really sure Gertrude is nowhere near.

“I don’t like your Archivist.”

“Why I wonder…” James opens the file with Gertrude’s requests. No TNT, no gun powder, no heavy weaponry. That is almost suspicious. Though it still looks like quite an expensive business trip due to travel and accommodation expenses… There surely must be some other hotels than four star ones.

“Though at least you seem to have troubles with her as well…” Peter lurks over his shoulder on the very list of her requests regarding her next work trip. James quickly closes it as he does not want Peter to think he just lets his Archivist just demand and do whatever she wants.

“That is none of your business, Peter.”

“I think it is since it will be money from my family covering her vacation.”

“We will negotiate about it further.” He is sure he can persuade her to degrade her first class seat to a business class seat at least… Yes, Gertrude is hard to deal with sometimes but so far his longest surviving Archivist. She is very effective in what she does and unfortunately she knows it.

James wonders whether Peter will become just another one victim on Gertrude's rampage to stop every ritual. He told him nothing concrete of course but it seems like it will take at least a few more years before he attempts to do something to bring The One Alone here. Maybe he will be smart enough to disappear in time, he hates any kind of social interactions after all… On the other hand Gertrude is Gertrude…

“What was actually your assistant even doing in the Archives?” his Lonely guest interrupts his chain of thoughts with a question.

“I was afraid he would mess up my system here… so I sent him to help there. Apparently I will really have to find him some work he cannot mess up too badly…”

Peter raises an eyebrow but stops himself from inquiring further.

“I have my reasons why I keep him employed. Do you want to hear them?”

“No. Not really,” Peter shrugs as he probably already used up the entire curiosity limit Lonely allows. Which works just fine for James. He plans to switch bodies in only a year or two and he would hate to spoil the surprise for Peter. It will be much more fun if Peter does not know anything.  James is quite fond of the man. And how else can he find out for sure that the servant of the Lonely cares for him at least than to see how he will react to his death.

Ah well no matter what the future will bring why not rather enjoy the present for a bit. And talking about enjoying the present…

 “Now weren’t you mentioning something about lunch before we were so rudely interrupted?”

“No I don’t actually think so.”

“Maybe you were about to invite me to go have one with you?”

“Still doesn’t ring a bell.” Peter might try to look clueless but twitching of the corners of his mouth gives him away.

“Peter!”

“Alright, alright, you are always so demanding... Do you know some place which is not very crowded?”

“Of course I do. If the price is not an issue…”

Peter only sighs and hands James his coat. He has been so far really quite entertaining company for someone dedicated to Forsaken. Also he is handsome and that is something James can appreciate in a man. He can really see some long term partnership between them. He really hopes Gertrude spares him when the time comes.

#It's almost more Gertrude and James argueing than lonelyeyes #Minor og Elias Bouchard / Michael Shelley reference #tma #tma fanfic #magnus archives fanfic #james wright #peter lukas #gertrude robinson #gertrude era archives #lonelyeyes #peterjames #lonelyeyesweek #lonelyeyesweek2021 #mEye fanfic #mEye post

[bonjour-rainycity]

Double Heart | Chapter Seventeen ~ Split

|previous part|

Pairing: Haldir x OFC

Rating: PG-13

Word count: 1482

Warnings: None

A/n Hello hello! I know it’s not one of my normal update days, but this one is short, so enjoy this angsty bonus chapter!

Cosima

Weeks pass in routine. In the mornings I research with Alex or study Sindarin alone, sometimes venturing into the garden or library to occupy my time. The lunch hours are typically spent in the company of friends, and Lavandil and I have been passing many of our afternoons together in her shop. As the summer continues, business only grows, and I can see why she asked for the help. Her art is quite popular! She tried to teach me how to weave and, unsurprisingly, I’m terrible. So I mainly help clean and work with the customers.

Three nights a week, Alex, Baranor and I meet in the library and continue our lessons. On that, I actually am making progress. It’s allowed me to converse with Lavandil’s customers in their own language. It’s also helped me feel much more self-sufficient here. No longer must I have to rely on Lavandil or Rumil to translate when we go out. Ellyn I speak with still have to slow their words and repeat things several times, and sometimes I must ask for clarification, but the progress really is liberating.

Two days a week, right after breakfast, Alex and I meet Elrond in his study.

Lord Elrond insists on using the power in his fæ to attempt to aid us in recovering our memories. I hate to admit it, but his efforts are wasted and, on my part, not really wanted. Besides the memory of Mara and Nonna, I don’t remember anything, and at this point, I’m not sure I want to. I’m already too attached to the people here, and I’ve seen where that’s gotten me. I don’t want to remember people from home — love them, miss them, and then realize I can never return to them.

I don’t make much progress, anyway. Most days, Alex and I have nothing but headaches and exhaustion to show for our work. Every now and then, one of us will remember something small — a passing event or an aquauntaince from childhood — but nothing of real interest. Elrond agrees that the headaches and exhaustion are signs that we are not yet healed from whatever ordeal resulted in us arriving in Arda. He’s been keeping an eye on our fæs — apparently they are somehow injured — and says that the original wounds are all but healed.

Alex’s progress is less encouraging. His old wounds are healing, but nearly every time Elrond or Baranor checks, there’s a new injury. They don’t know what’s causing it, but privately, I have a theory. While Alex says he’s accepted this world, knowing him, there’s a part that’s still hanging on to our homeworld. Maybe that’s causing too much stress to allow him to heal. Because I’m healing, and I’ve fully accepted this world for what it is — impossible, different, but real.

And then at night time, training continues with Haldir.

I am careful to keep distance between us except when absolutely necessary. By the way he does the same, he’s recognized the urgent precariousness of our situation. As much as I want to confess the feelings I keep so tightly bottled up inside, to fall into his arms and ask him to love me forever, I cannot.

Because my forever is abysmally different than his.

So I keep my distance.

My effort to avoid excessive contact or time with him is helped by the fact that, not long after our first training session, he became incredibly busy. Though relations between him and Glorfindel are still tense, the two work tirelessly to train the newer guard. Often, by the time I make my way down to breakfast, Haldir is long gone, off to lead drills.

The distance between us hasn’t helped my internal predicament.

Too often, I catch myself following the line of his jaw, remembering the feeling of his arms wrapped around me, wanting to return to that excitement of just the two of us under the stars.

I don’t act on these thoughts, nor communicate them to anyone, though Lavandil certainly tries to break that resolve. She’s adamant that, even with my lifespan to consider, it is better to spend the time we have together in happiness rather than holding ourselves back from something that could be great.

I forcefully disagree.

I’d rather cause myself a little pain now than put Haldir in a position where he could be broken later.

Surprisingly, Rumil, once my tormentor, has become my closest ally. Any time someone attempts to bring up the subject of me and Haldir, Rumil promptly shuts it down, usually changing the subject to something outlandish enough to properly distract everyone. He kindly occupies my newfound free time and we go riding together at least once a week. Since Rumil has Roch, Haldir allows me to take Faervel out, and, where the horse used to be indifferent towards me at best, he now whinnies in greeting the second I set foot in the stables.

My life in Imladris is nice. It’s peaceful. It’s filled with wonderful friends and so much to discover. And I’m happy, there’s no doubt about that…even if something is missing. I caught my feelings early and took preventative action by distancing myself from Haldir, which is good…but it’s…unfulfilling, in a way, to stay far from him. I miss eating meals together and talking about our days before training sessions. I miss constantly having him around. I miss him teasing me and moments where it’s just us.

I miss him.

But I won’t lose my resolve.

If my sadness can save Haldir pain, then I will bear it.

{***}

Haldir

Summer in Imladris passes quickly. My days revolve around training the newer guard, and they show promising progress. Lothlórien’s borders are much more extensive than that of Imladris’, and I am confident adopting some of the techniques I use with my wardens at home to fit Elrond’s guard will help them be more prepared when the orcs attack again. My brothers have been indispensable, kindly offering their help and allowing me to use them as examples for the other soldiers. Orophin, of course, plans his schedule around Lavandil’s, but I have him with us about three days a week. Rumil joins nearly every day, only disappearing on Saturday mornings to take the horses out with Cosima.

Cosima.

My mind has been consumed by her for weeks.

If I am being honest, it’s been consumed with her long before then, probably up to the moment she arrived in this world. I now understand that my desire to keep her near me after the attack, and every moment after, was not only a preventative measure to make her feel better — it was my need to keep her close. To keep her safe. To have that reassurance that she is alright, and, if we were to be attacked again, I could defend her myself.

I really do owe Rumil an apology.

Turns out my brother knows me better than I know myself.

But despite the startling realization that I want to be with a human woman—not just any human woman, Cosima—the days continue.

Not of small concern is Cosima’s health which, mercifully, is improving. Her sessions with Elrond to attempt to regain her memories must be helping — though her memories have not returned, the scars on her fæ are nearly completely healed.

Aside from my monitoring of her health through Elrond and Baranor, my busy schedule prevents me from seeking her out. We continue to train together three times a week — she is making vast improvements — but our interactions are hesitant, a little awkward. I worry I overstepped my bounds that first night, or perhaps, even before that — maybe the night under the stars — for she certainly keeps her distance now. No longer do we eat together or talk in our free time. It’s a strange feeling, but it causes me stress not to see her during the day. Even a quick interaction would be enough, just to catch a glimpse of her smile or hear the approval of her laugh, but those are few and far between.

But, as much as it pains me, it is for the best.

I hate to think of it this way, but Cosima’s life is short and her future uncertain. Were she an elleth, there would be no issue — I could tell her of my feelings and she could return them and we could spend the rest of our never-ending lives together.

But Cosima is human. Even if she does choose to stay in Arda forever, her forever and mine are vastly different. If I give in, do as I so desperately want to and build a life with her…

She does not know it, but she has the power to break me.

And, while I still hold a sliver of the ability to keep that from happening, I must seize on it.

A/n Thanks for reading, and happy weekend! Likes, comments, and reblogs make my day! See you Monday with a new chapter :)

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Tolkien tag list: @anangelwhodidntfall @eru-vande

Haldir tag list: @tolkien-apologist

Double Heart tag list: @lainphotography @themerriweathermage @thophil2941btw @kenobiguacamole @wishingtobeinadifferentuniverse @from-patroclus-with-love @boywivlove @ordinarymom1 @my-darling-haldir @sweet-bea-blossom @moony-artnstuff @sleepyamygdala 

#haldir #haldir x ofc #haldir x oc #haldir fanfic #haldir fanfiction

[vickyvicarious]

how would you write a fic where: Nana meets Parker and Eliot

well, I wrote one possible version of Nana meeting Eliot in my fic 'Food Is', so there's that, but it wasn't really the focus of the story. But there's a ton of ways to go with this one, it's really hard to choose one method.

I think if it's something I would write then I'd leave off all my ideas about possible heist-related meetings where the team has to help Nana simply because the cons intimidate me too much to write in any detail. So, the first one to come to mind is something like:

Hardison has been uncharacteristically dragging his feet on introducing them to Nana. Parker brought it up, like, the once, and Eliot never has - they both don't have anywhere near the kind of family background where they'd feel comfortable on insisting. And it's not that Hardison doesn't want them to meet her, but he hasn't really taken the initiative to make it happen, and they certainly won't, so it just... hasn't. They all lead busy lives after all.

(Hardison talks them up to Nana all the time over the phone and whatnot. But it's. It's different, he wants her to love them as much as he does and he's kinda afraid she wouldn't. She knows what he does, knows what they as a team do... but the messy reality of it might put her off. Seeing the three of them in a romantic relationship might be something she objects to when it's in her face. What if she tells embarrassing stories about his childhood and they never let it go? What if Parker or Eliot don't like her? Her health isn't super great and he doesn't want to stress her out! She always polices his orange soda intake and he'd need that to handle the stress of such a meeting! He's never really been in love before, never had to do the whole 'introduction to your parents' thing and he wants it to be PERFECT when it happens. He knows most of his fears aren't realistic at all, but they're still making him super nervous and it's just easier to plan that he'll make it happen at some point in the future.)

But Nana gets impatient. She takes things into her own hands. By which I mean, she just shows up one day.

Of course, the crew is in the middle of a con at the time. Like, fully in the middle, on a timeline, can't stop what they're doing now. This means that despite all his best efforts to manage the entire meeting, Hardison physically isn't able to be there half the time. Nana's weekend visit or whatever involves her sitting in on strategy meetings, cooking with Eliot, talking knots and knits with Parker, playing video games with Hardison, just various snatched bits of time with all of them in between them running out to do things for the con. At one point she absolutely grabs the phone and plays the role of FBI handler or whatever. Maybe she plays a key role at the end of the con. She's definitely interested in what they do.

Hardison is all freaked out and overprotective, Eliot is terrified and trying to be very nonthreatening since he has no idea what's been said about him, Parker is openly and deeply curious about every single detail of this woman's life but also nervous about interacting with her. Nana meanwhile is trying to assess these people her son loves so much, and also have some fun while away from home. Since the focus is mainly on her POV/moments with the crew, I wouldn't have to write in a full con, just maybe snippets of what the others are up to at any given moment (sort of like in the Broken Wing Job).

Anyway, it obviously ends with her giving her approval and bonding with them all. She talks to Hardison about his lifestyle (in all senses) really being okay with her in practice, not just theory, and maybe gently scolds him for even unreasonably fearing otherwise. (Would she have preferred something safer? Yes. But he has people who will take care of him, he loves what he does and it uses his big brain to the fullest, and he is helping people. Of course she isn't disappointed. And, what. The two people thing? Maybe she hasn't been telling him enough stories about her wild youth if he thinks that's gonna phase her.) She teaches Eliot some family recipes and also definitely some funny Alec stories. She 'lets Parker talk her into' trying out a climbing rig (Nana's a little bit of an adrenaline junkie, Hardison is way more concerned for her health than she is) and essentially adopts her and says she already considers her family and she has an open invite whenever she wants to come by. She kicks everyone's butts in any variety of videogame (Hardison wins there but it's decently close) or board game. She is openly affectionate and loving and everyone loves her deeply.

FLUFF FLUFF FLUFF

There's a family dinner, and then she goes home. The fic ends with her arriving home, talking a bit to Breanna maybe, etc. etc. ...and then she goes up to bed or something and finds a stuffed animal on her bed, with a little note from Parker. She must've left like right after Nana did, beat her home somehow, broke in and gave her a little gift. Something to show she loves Nana too, and wants to be in her family as well.

Nana's heart is full and warm and she is so so happy for her baby boy that he has found a place to belong and people to do so with. She sends him a picture of the bear. Picks it up to move it, and notices it's weirdly heavy. Opens it up. Finds the inside is full of gems or something, and there's one more note saying 'just in case'. Nana laughs out loud.

#leverage #thiefsome #nana hardison #inbox games #my fic #how would i write this fic #(also. my own grandma before she died used to take in foster children for most of her adult life. adopted one of them. but anyway her house #was FULL of pictures of them all. she had this row circling through the whole kitchen and down the hall and so on. and i hc that for Nana #dunno if hardison and breanna were the only ones she raised fully to adulthood but she definitely fostered a whole bunch of kids and #very proudly displays their photos/award/etc. everywhere. certainly a scene of her bragging on them all)

[mxgilray]

I... have some thoughts on the Loki finale. It was not what I was expecting, but I'm still hopeful for season 2.

This felt like a meh finale, like how a lot of season finales felt in Spring 2020 when they unexpectedly quit filming and had to cut things short by a couple episodes thanks to the pandemic. Only this was the planned out finale, they should've given a bit more oomph. I'm quite a fan of exposition and character development usually, but all the dialog was centered on He Who Remains, so it felt like our main characters were just side pieces.

Plus, the final "cliffhanger" of Mobius not knowing Loki and the statue of HWR replacing the Time Keeper statues felt quite lackluster. Not sure how they could've made it hit harder, but it didn't deliver the "oh shit" vibes they intended, but maybe that's cuz Mobius not remembering Loki has been an expected plot line on tumblr for half the season so it wasn't a blindside.

I get the point of the Sylki kiss. From what I've seen on tumblr so far I feel like the nuance of Sylvies actions was lost to most people (both Sylki fans and antis just Didn't Get It). It wasn't a big declaration of love like the fans are grasping onto it as, and it wasn't shoving selfcest into the canon to keep the heternormativity like antis are accusing it of being; it was Sylvie using Loki's attachment to her to trick him. She needed Loki out of her way, and she knew the only way to get past him and get He Who Remains' tempad was through emotional distraction. She used his love against him and betrayed him, a kiss was simply the most efficient way to do it. I did a whole post last week about Sylvie's feelings towards Loki, but to sum up I firmly believe that while Loki harbors some romantic feelings for Sylvie, she feels strictly platonic towards him, but is very aware of his attraction. She took advantage of his care for her to get the upper hand during their fight. Heck she even foreshadowed it herself in ep 5. "There are more important things than friends" "like taking down the TVA" she told Loki that taking down whoever is behind the TVA comes before everything; it's priority #1 in her book, above friendship or love or trust. Loki proved that his priority now is the greater good of the universe not her revenge, so Sylvie has no use for him anymore (partners only when it's convenient, because she is a Loki and that's how emotionally stunted Lokis behave).

I would like to point out the irony of her being worried about Loki betraying her, only to turn around and betray him. It's in the realm of "people who cheat assuming their partner is cheating" / "not using a turn signal when changing planes to avoid being cut off because when you see someone else use their signal you tend to cut them off", it's assuming other people will behave like you do. Sylvie feared in ep 5 that Loki would betray her in the end because she knew if it came down to it she'd betray him. But the thing is, he's actually grown past that. Loki is finally thinking about how his actions can damage others, not just his own wants and needs. Sylvie saw this moral change in Loki, realized there was no chance of getting him back on the blind revenge boat, and decided to exploit his newfound selflessness and emotional attachment to get him out of her path.

This whole season Loki has been maturing emotionally and growing into the best, most heroic version of himself. Sylvie, on the other hand, still has that deceptive, selfish, can't trust anyone persona that every Loki develops to combat insecurity. She hasn't had the emotional growth needed to see the bigger picture, she's still trapped in her own self centered mindset. As such, she disregards the impact her betrayal will have on Loki, the impact killing HWR will have on the universe. She doesn't even take a beat to consider whether revenge is still the right path cuz she doesn't practice self reflection yet; revenge has always been the goal and she refuses to give herself a chance of changing her mind. I hope in season 2 she'll get some character growth, now that her 1 goal has been accomplished.

Now on to Mobius. I enjoyed his scenes, I wish we'd been shown more of what he did to reveal the truth to the rest of the TVA. Again, I feel like too much time was given to HWR's monologing and not enough was spent on the other characters so Mobius and B-15 got very little screen time to display their plan. I am happy Mobius got the opportunity to throw Ranslayers betrayal back in her face, and his attemp at attacking her...my boy you work a desk job you ain't no fighter, she used to work in the field collecting variants, you had no chance. Also, where the F did she go??? I kept expecting her to show up at the end of time but she didn't. Where did Miss Minutes send her??

I'm sad Mobius doesn't know Loki anymore, but I can't say I'm surprised. I've got a few different thoughts on what the heck is going on with him and the TVA:

Sylvie accidentally sent Loki way back to a time early on in the TVA before HWR created the Time Keepers for anonymity. As such, this is a past Mobius who has yet to meet Loki or even learn of Loki's existence. If this is the case, then I think Loki and Past!Mobius's interaction at the end of ep 6 will be the catalyst for him becoming a Loki expert. The 63 branching timelines Mobius and B-15 are discussing before Loki interrupts are from some currently unknown disaster that'll be a plot line in s2. (This is my least favorite theory, but nevertheless a possibility)

HWR was correct when he said that if Sylvie kills him and destroys the TVA then another variant of him will just start it all up again. This variant didn't care to remain anonymous, hence the big statue of him, but kept all the memory wiped variants working there. Because time is a chaotic bitch, the changeover from one HWR variant to another may have been near seamless at the TVA and just involved a quick memory wipe of anything relating to the Time Keepers, Loki and Sylvie, or knowledge that the TVA are all variants. The 63 branches may be thanks to something Renslayer is doing like killing all the HWR variants in existence in order to negate the need for the TVA. The branching could also be from Sylvie's revenge still, we have no idea how much time has passed between her killing HWR and a new HWR taking over so the branching she caused could still be an issue.

There have actually been multiple TVAs running simultaneously, each in their own multiverse. Each one employs memory wiped variants, each one is in charge of a certain subset of timelines, and all work under the one HWR. Sylvie used HWR's tempad to eject Loki back to the TVA, but she accidentally sent him to the TVA of a different multiverse not realizing that's a Thing. The 63 branching timelines Mobius and B-15 are discussing are indeed from Sylvie killing HWR, but there's only 63 as opposed to the countless we saw diverging from Sylvie's perspective because this TVA only sees branches on timelines within their own multiverse. Mobius doesn't know Loki because he isn't our Mobius and in the multiverse he works in maybe Loki's aren't as much of an issue because none of them ever escaped the TVA like Sylvie did (or none of them have Tom's face so he doesn't recognize him as a Loki). If this is the case, then Loki is gonna have to find his way back to his own multiverse in order to be reunited with his Mobius, and that could end up happening thanks to Renslayer. Miss Minutes gave her a file that I suspect only HWR should have access to. Maybe it was tempad coordinates for other multiverses? It took til the 31st century for the multiverses to be connected despite Tony figuring out time travel in the 21st century because travel between universes is much harder, maybe HWR is still the only one who knows how to do that. (If this theory is correct then all the time travel done during Endgame was through timelines within one multiverse) Also just thought of this but what if the reason there are so many extreme variations of loki that grew to adulthood is because the criteria of "sacred timeline" is different in each multiverse. Classic Loki and maybe President Loki and Kid Loki are from the same universe as MCU Loki, but red haired Loki, Croki, Boastful Loki, etc are all from other universes. Think about it, Classic Loki, 2012 Loki, and MCU Loki all have an exact identical path up until their nexus event (or death in MCU Loki's case). I think other than identifying as female, Sylvie's childhood was identical as well and that her nexus event was coming to terms with her adoption as a child, which erased the catalyst of 2011 Thor's plot and would've changed everything for her future path. Had her adoption remained a secret and she grew up on asgard, I believe her story would mirror MCU Loki's. It mildly hit me weird that there would be such wild variation amongst Lokis, even with him being a shapeshifter, because there's a rigid sacred timeline (that supposedly the MCU movies have all adhered to) and they all felt like too big of a divergence to have been left unchecked so long. If boastful Loki was telling the truth about getting all 6 infinity stones then he should've triggered a nexus event as soon as he got more than the 3 he is "supposed to" interact with, unless in his multiverse the sacred timeline criteria is different. Another theory: the agents employed in each TVA are from multiverses other than the one they're working in. It would make sense, keep them from running into their own past by fully detaching each agent from their home timeline/universe. So the Principal!Renslayer that B-15 found will never in any future become the TVA judge we know. The one we know maybe came from the universe Loki got sent to, and that's how the two of them will end up crossing paths again.

#loki series #loki spoilers #loki #lokius #sylki #sylvie laufeydottir #mobius m mobius #tva loki #time variance authority #loki meta #mcu #marvel

[kissinginkitchens]

You Bring Me Home—Chapter Three: Chasing Waterfalls

a/n: Welcome back!! Another huge thank you for the sweet words and love you have shown to part 2! I'm so glad to hear from those of you who are enjoying the story so far :') Things are starting to get interesting, so I hope you'll stay tuned! As always, my inbox is open, so feel free to come chat with me after you have finished reading! Much love, Mel <3

Pairing: Hawai'i!Harry x Original Character

Warnings: swearing, drug/alcohol mention

Word Count: 5.3k

catch up on parts one and two

Alani watches the stream of salt descend gracefully into the salt-shaker like a mini waterfall, her mind still replaying the events of the past couple of weeks. It has been fourteen days, 336 hours, and 20,160 minutes since the last time she saw Harry, not that she was counting. The image of him getting smaller in her rearview mirror as she drove away from the recording studio is still fresh in her mind. Two weeks and all she has to show for it is three sentences in her notebook, most of which is material she had already known prior to the interview. Alani supposes that this fact should trouble her more than it does, with her future at Rolling Stone depending on much more than the smoothie preferences of Harry Styles; but all she can dwell on at the moment is the serene image of them standing side by side, pinkies nearly touching, making a wish on the most vibrant rainbow she had ever seen. What does concern her, however, are the events that immediately followed their arrival back at Napua.

“Maybe next time we should do this in a neutral location,” Harry had offered, stepping out of the Range Rover. “Less distractions,”

Alani’s brows shot up at the words, not quite believing that she had heard him right. “Next time?”

“You can’t possibly have gotten everything you needed from that,” he scoffed, leaning against the passenger door. Alani had fully prepared to butter him up in order to extend their time beyond the initial one interview agreement, but she hadn’t expected it to be this easy, especially after his dismissal of her attempted humor and begrudging lunch invitation.

“Well, no, but I thought-”

“Okay, so we’ll do this again,” he shrugged, “No biggie,”

Alani felt a wave of relief, and a twinge of excitement, rush over her at the prospect of securing another interview with Harry. Offering him a grateful smile, she nodded and agreed.

“Yeah, okay. Thank you, again, for agreeing to this,”

Harry’s furrowed brow didn’t budge, nor did his set jaw and pouted lips. He simply offered a small bow of his head and a ringed finger through his dark locks.

“Sure. Wouldn’t wanna be the reason you fail,”

“Thanks,” she replied through a forced laugh.

Alani had almost forgotten about the cover she devised to get Harry to agree to the exclusive. A part of her wondered how willing he would have been to participate had he known her true intentions of submitting the final piece to Rolling Stone, but the better part of her judgement knew there was too much at stake to fold her cards now. Besides, Harry had to have known that any work linked to his name would get some sort of public attention, regardless of the original intentions. At least, that was what Alani planned to say if things went south.

“So you can just... text me, I guess,” she proposed cautiously. “When you’re free?”

“Will do,” Harry nodded. “But I think that requires us to exchange phone numbers first,”

“Right,”

Alani pulled her phone from the back pocket of her shorts and opened the contacts app before holding it out to Harry. Carefully, he punched his digits and handed it back, smirking when he was greeted by the image of irresistible watery eyes and floppy ears beneath the time.

“Cute dog,” he remarked while Alani finished typing her own number into his phone.

A soft smile spread across her lips as the image of her furry companion drifted into her mind.

“Oh, thanks. His name’s Freddie,”

“D’you name all your belongings after 70s rock stars?” Harry teased, flashing a dimpled grin.

“As a matter of fact,” Alani played along. “I’m about to go take a sip from Mick Jagger in my car,”

Immediately, Alani regretted her choice of words, though the bright ringing of Harry’s laughter soothed some of the embarrassment.

She winced, nose scrunched. “I guess there’s no taking that one back, huh?”

“Not a chance,”

Clutching her bag closer and sliding her sunglasses back onto the bridge of her nose, Alani took a step back and sighed.

“And with that, I bid you adieu.”

“Au revoir.”

Two weeks and still radio silence from Harry. Alani had begun to wonder whether she had input her phone number correctly in the first place, or if her penchant for embarrassing herself had ruined all chances of Harry making good on his promises.

“I’m sorry, sir, but if you want salted fries you’re gonna have to wait for your turn at the salt mound, just like everyone else,” the voice of Alani’s sister breaks through her thoughts. Somewhere between reliving her last interaction with Harry and anticipating their impending reunion, Alani’s hand had drifted slightly off course of the salt shaker, resulting in a rather impressive mountain of salt forming on the countertop.

“Why didn’t you stop me?” Alani retorts, annoyed at the mess she’ll have to clean up.

“Seemed like you were in the zone, or possibly sleepwalking—and you know what they say about disturbing sleepwalkers,” Pua says simply, unaffected by her sister’s irritation. “Plus, I thought it would be funny, and I was right,”

Alani sweeps the salt into a garbage can below, her mind already drifting back to her afternoon with Harry, when her sister speaks up again.

“He hasn’t called yet?”

This catches Alani’s attention, but she only shakes her head dejectedly in response.

“I thought your date went well,” Pua muses, thinking back to the way her sister had practically floated through the house upon her return.

“It wasn’t a date,” Alani corrects firmly, perhaps trying to convince herself, as well.

Pua scoffs, lifting herself to sit on the countertop. “So you made me cover a four hour shift for nothing?”

“It’s strictly professional and he’s busy,” Alani sighs. “That’s just how these things go,”

“Did he let you listen to his new music?” the younger sister asks, eyes widening.

Alani rolls her eyes and resumes twisting the caps back onto the filled salt shakers. “No,”

“Did you ask him why he left One Direction?”

“No,”

“Is he single?”

“I don’t know,” Alani huffs, turning to face her smug little sister. “Why don’t you ask him?”

“Ask him what?” a familiar accented voice cuts in behind her.

Alani whips around to face Harry, a familiar dent between his brows and dark sunglasses shielding her from the intensity of his stare.

��Ask my dad if I can go to the..movies—tonight,” Pua chimes in. “With my friends. I have those,”

Harry smirks, lifting his sunglasses up to address her. “S’that so?”

“Yup,” she confirms, popping the “p” and crossing her arms. “Hey, can I ask you something?”

“Curiosity runs in the family, I see,” he remarks with amusement. “Shoot,”

“Is your phone working?”

“Why don’t you go call dad and ask him about the movies? I’ll cover the register,” Alani interrupts, shooting a glare over her shoulder as her sister saunters into the kitchen with a satisfied grin on her round face.

“Ignore her, she’s fifteen,”

“The most honest age in my experience,” Harry observes with a twinge of guilt settling in the pit of his stomach.

Alani pushes any thoughts about Harry, beyond the fact that he’s standing in front of her, to the side and puts on her best customer service voice. “What can I get started for you today?”

“A green smoothie, please,” he says, searching for her eyes that are occupied with the register buttons. “And the rest of your afternoon, if you’re free,”

Alani pauses and allows her gaze to meet his. She senses a hint of apology behind his emerald eyes, a welcome change to the storminess that often clouds them.

“I don’t know,” she starts slowly, despite the fact that every bone in her body is screaming at her to go. “I gotta finish up here,”

“What time are you off?”

Alani mulls his question over, silently deciding whether to tell the truth or not. Ultimately, retribution for her bruised ego is the only reason she can come up with for lying. She knows that it isn’t logical to be upset with him due to the fact that their relationship is strictly professional. Harry owes her nothing; in fact, him agreeing to meet with her the first time was, as she pointed out on several occasions, entirely a favor on his end. Despite this fact, Alani couldn’t help the disappointment she had felt the very next day when he hadn’t even texted his name to make sure that he had the right number. And she can’t help how she feels now, two weeks later, looking into his big, dumb eyes that are begging for her forgiveness. She missed him. Against her better judgment, and for reasons she can’t explain, Alani misses Harry, so she chooses honesty.

“Four,”

“Great,” he perks up, victoriously. “Then I’ll have the green smoothie, and keep ‘em coming,”

“You’re gonna stay here that long?” Alani asks, eyes darting to the 1:11 displayed on her watch.

Harry holds up a teal paperback with cassette tapes stacked on the cover. “Got some reading material to keep me company,”

“Love is a Mix Tape,” she reads the yellow cursive looped at the bottom of the cover aloud with a nod.

“Ever read it?” he questions, flipping through the pages.

“Can’t say that I have,”

“Well then you can borrow it sometime.” Harry says finally, turning on his heel in the direction of a table near the window.

Alani half expects him to leave and come back closer to their allotted time, but he simply sits near the window with the book in front of him and the straw of his drink resting against his pouted bottom lip. Customers come and go, tables are cleared, and the sunlight spills into different corners of the room, but Harry remains perfectly unchanged as if he were a fixture of the room itself. His presence is both comforting and unnerving to Alani, who glides around the room taking orders and serving food. Meanwhile, Harry does his very best to focus on the words in front of him, but the letters jumble together like alphabet soup amidst his wandering thoughts. Out of the corner of his eye, he follows Alani as she gracefully moves from one table to the next, flashing a warm smile at each guest who enters. He notices the tapping of her pen to whatever Beach Boys song plays over the stereo and the way she bites the inside of her cheek when making change at the register. The more details he stores in his mind, the deeper the sinking feeling burrows into his stomach. It had taken every ounce of willpower and over twenty unsent text messages to stay away, but Harry needed to put space between them for both of their sakes. He didn’t dare flatter himself with the thought of her having feelings for him, but he didn’t mind her company and that hadn’t done him much good these days. Harry knew that eventually he would have to bite the bullet and keep his word, and he decided that a temporary writer’s block was as good a time as any to do so.

“What ever happened to that girl?” Jeff had asked the evening prior, responding to an email from the recording label.

Harry feigned ignorance and continued to doodle something in his notebook, though he knew exactly who his manager was referring to. “What girl?”

“Dark hair, pretty, made you blush like a 12 year old,”

“I did not,'' Harry defended, scribbling a little more harshly. “‘S nothing. Was just helpin’ her out,”

Jeff snorted with an accusational brow raised.

“How romantic,”

“Jesus, not like that!”

“All I’m saying,” Jeff conceded. “Is that you seem a little uptight these days, and the music shows,”

Harry pondered this for a minute, his pen stilling to look over the lyrics, or lack thereof, on the page.

“You should be having a little fun, that’s literally what we came here for,” Jeff continued. “Get out of this fuckin’ studio and be a normal 22 year-old. You deserve it.”

So Harry had decided to go out, telling himself that he was merely listening to a friend’s advice for the sake of his music and sanity. But a part of him also desperately wanted to see Alani, even if he didn’t really know why.

As the clock strikes four, Alani sucks in a deep breath and turns to her sister slicing bananas in the kitchen.

“I’m going out,”

“Figured,” Pua responds, unphased. “I’ll cover for you,”

“I owe you.”

“Get me tickets to his next concert and we’ll call it even.”

Alani rolls her eyes, amused, and presses a chaste kiss to her sister’s temple before grabbing her bag off the hook and heading out. When she emerges in the dining area, Harry is already waiting at the counter with his broad shoulders turned away from her. She taps him gently and feels dizzy when he turns to her with a faint dimpled smile.

“Ready to roll?” he asks.

“Ready.”

When the two are comfortably situated in the Range Rover, Harry scans the parking lot and pulls away onto Mamalahoa Highway.

“Where’s Stevie?” he questions, his lower lip pinched between his index finger and thumb in concentration.

“Oh I walk to the restaurant,” Alani explains. “Don’t live too far,”

“Explains why you ditched your sister,”

“I did not ditch her!” Alani defends with a light laugh.

“Kinda did,”

She shakes her head in mock offense as the corners of Harry’s lips turn up. “My dad will pick her up after work, she’ll be fine,”

“Not to accuse you of nepotism,” he hesitates. “But I thought maybe your dad worked at the café. Family business?”

“He owns it, yeah, but he also works as the head chef at Honu. It’s a resort,” Alani continues. “But I’ll have you know that my waitressing skills are highly qualified, regardless of the nepotism,”

“And your mum?”

“She’s a doctor—pediatric surgeon,”

“That’s amazing,” Harry comments, glancing down at the GPS.

“Yeah, she is,” Alani agrees, her own eyes darting to the screen before attempting to analyze her surroundings. “Hey, where are we going?”

The rings on Harry’s right hand tap gently on the steering wheel as he responds carefully, withholding any hints.

“To the best interview spot I could think of. Go there sometimes to work on the album,”

“So there is an album,” Alani wiggles her brows.

“Off the record,” he clarifies. “But.. potentially,”

She scoffs at his insistence to maintain secrecy.

“Really?”

“We’re almost there.” Harry consoles, referring primarily to their destination, but perhaps speaking personally, as well. Alani doesn’t miss the double meaning and chooses to nod silently in acceptance.

The next few minutes of their drive are filled by humming along to whatever song drifts through the stereo, most notably Paul McCartney and George Harrison, which inspires a lively back and forth about the ranking of ex-Beatles members.

“It goes Paul, George, Ringo, and John,” Alani states matter-of-factly. “There’s no other answer,”

Harry shoots her an incredulous look before responding. “Are you seriously putting Ringo Starr before John Lennon?”

“John Lennon was an abusive asshole,” Alani defends. “Plus he wrote, like, one good song-”

“More than one song—”

“I said a good song. ‘Good’ being the keyword,”

Harry can’t hold back his endearment at her reasoning, so he shakes his head with a wide grin plastered on his face and decides to take one last swing at the hornet’s nest.“He’s still a legend,”

“Isn’t it weird,” Alani muses with a far-away look in her eyes. “That someday, someone’s gonna have this conversation about you?”

Harry doesn’t respond right away, weighing her words and how they settle in his bones. It doesn’t offend him in the slightest, he’s heard far worse, but there is still something strange about comparing himself to musicians he considers to be his icons. Despite all the hard work and sacrifices he’s made over the past five years, he still sees himself as the lucky little kid from Holmes Chapel underneath it all.

“I’m sorry,” Alani speaks up when Harry doesn’t respond. “I didn’t mean—”

“Oh, no it’s okay,” He reassures her. “I was just thinking... ‘bout what you said. I guess I don’t really think about it like that,”

“Oh,” is all she says, still waiting for him to elaborate. After a beat, Harry begins again in his characteristically slow way of speaking that Alani finds charming.

“It’s just that,” he begins, tugging on his lower lip. “Obviously I can’t ignore, you know, the impact that all of it had. But to me it was just… I don’t know. In my head it’s not really on the same level,”

Alani nods, though she can’t say it’s with complete understanding. In this moment, she truly feels the weight of their completely different worlds and how she may never be able to fully sympathize with that part of Harry’s life. She certainly hadn’t been under any impression that she would, but she still feels a bit embarrassed for the closeness she had begun to feel to him in their moments spent together. A sinking feeling settles into Alani’s stomach at the thought that maybe she was making a mistake, despite the constant self-reminders that everything they were doing was completely professional. Don’t get too close, she writes on a mental post-it note, sticking it to the forefront of her mind.

“We’re here,” Harry pipes up.

Too wrapped up in her own thoughts, Alani hadn’t noticed when they pulled into the parking lot at ‘Akaka Falls and it took her a moment to adjust.

“This is the place?” she questions hesitantly.

“Yeah,”

“This is where you come to write?”

“I didn’t realize I was supposed to stay chained to the studio,” Harry teases with his hands raised in mock surrender.

“No,” Alani breathes out a light laugh, rolling her eyes. “I just mean… I don’t know what I expected.”

“That was the point.” he explains with a devious smile that makes her let out a proper laugh.

************

“Did you know,” Alani starts, the tips of her fingers reaching out to stroke the petal of an especially vibrant red flower. “That Georgia O'Keeffe had a show in New York City during the 40s with twenty paintings of different flowers that she observed right in this very park?”

“I didn’t,” Harry admits. “Who needs a tour guide when we’ve got you?”

“I have a copy of the waterfall one she did in my room,” Alani continues. “But I’d love to see the real thing some day,”

Harry scans the landscape, eyes settling over the winding stairs that lead them further to the falls and the rest area where he frequently hides away. “Is it still on display?”

“Last I checked, yes,” she nods. “At the New York Botanical Garden,”

“How are you not even a bit winded?” he chuckles, hands on his hips as he pauses and takes a moment to breathe.

Alani stops in her tracks and turns back to face Harry with a teasing glint already present in her deep brown eyes.

“I thought you came here all the time to write,” she says with a raised brow.

“And I thought it was against the journalist code to berate your subjects,” he shoots back. “But here we are,”

“Touché,” Alani concedes. “But I’m not a journalist yet so I guess the rules don’t apply to me,”

Harry thanks his lucky stars that she turns on her heel back down the steps before she can witness the fond grin tugging at the corners of his lips. He savors the image of the greenery that complements her olive skin and how the gentle breeze dances through her curls before following behind.

Alani takes a deep breath once they reach the lookout and soaks in the familiar view. No matter how many times she visits the national park, the first sight of the 442 feet of cascading water always leaves her eyes a little misty.

“What brings you here?” she asks, turning to Harry whose sunglasses are perched at the crown of his head to leave the view unobstructed.

His jaw clenches and his Adam’s apple bobs, but he doesn’t respond right away. Instead, he turns his head to Alani and searches her face with a crease between his brows.

“That,” he responds, pointing to the glossy sheen over her eyes. “That feeling. Felt it the first time I came here, still do,”

He turns back to face the roaring water before them and Alani takes this moment to study the sharp angles of his profile. She takes note of the sunlight peering through his sea glass irises and waits patiently for him to continue.

“Makes you feel lucky to be alive,” Harry says finally. “And a little small, but in a good way. Like everything bad that ever happened to you doesn’t matter because none of it’s real, is it? But this… this is real,”

Alani feels like the air has been sucked from her chest and her eyes burn a hole straight through Harry’s temple. He doesn’t budge, despite the overwhelming urge to face her again, because he knows that if he does, he’ll lose his nerve.

“Damn,” is all Alani croaks out when she finally catches her breath.

Harry’s stony expression falters as he cracks a small, relenting smile. “D’reckon that’s what TLC were on about when they wrote that song?”

“I think you’re on the right track, yeah,” Alani agrees with a light laugh. “Though I think they were talking a little bit more about drugs, but I like your thing too,”

“Thanks,” Harry smirks. “Now you see why I come here to write,”

“Yeah, I’ll give you that one,” she concedes.

“Speaking of writing,” he starts, walking away from the lookout and over to a rest area with a few tables and benches. “I think we were here to help you write,”

Alani follows and takes a seat on the bench across from him, the setting sun beating against her back and outlining her in golden light that Harry feels couldn’t be more poetic.

She retrieves a notebook, her phone, and a pen from her bag and sprawls them out across the table top. Harry notices that each item is colored a varying shade of pink, but he decides to keep that detail filed at the back of his mind instead of investigating further.

“Same deal as last time, voice notes for quotational accuracy,” Alani reminds him. She looks over her list of questions to pick a starting point, but suddenly none of them seem relevant, so she takes a moment to collect her thoughts and says the first thing that comes to mind.

“Earlier when I said this wasn’t what I was expecting,” she begins. “You said ‘that was the point’. Why?”

Harry turns this question over in his mind, caught off guard by the seemingly trivial detail. “I dunno. I guess.. Maybe I just like the surprise,”

“To be surprised, or to surprise others?”

“Both,”

“Why do you like to surprise others?”

He ponders this for a second and takes a deep breath. “I think it’s because it doesn’t happen that often,”

“What do you mean?” Alani prys.

“Well,” Harry begins carefully, sifting through his brain for the right words. “Ever since the whole band thing blew up, I’ve had this strange feeling that everyone knows everything about me, like there’s nothing left to discover,”

Alani watches as he twirls the ring around his wedding finger, a silver rose that has always caught her eye.

“Maybe that sounds self absorbed,” he simpers.

“It’s not,” Alani reassures him.

Harry meets her eyes appreciatively before resuming. “I still remember the first time someone recognized me,”

“What was that like?”

“Bizarre,” he chuckles to himself. “She was very nice, but the entire time I couldn’t stop thinking about how strange it all was. It’s like, you know when someone you met once or twice comes up to you and you don’t remember their name at all? S’bit awkward ‘cos you feel like you should know something about them, too— level the playing field. ‘Cept no matter how hard you wrack your brain, the information’s never gonna come, even though they know everything about you,”

“But they don’t,” Alani cuts in. “Not really,”

“Yeah,” Harry agrees, his eyes narrowed. “But sometimes they feel like they do, which might be worse,”

Alani taps her pen against her bottom lip and nods, a gentle hum leaving her throat as she registers his words.

“Didn’t think about it like that,”

“S’not so much about the fans,” Harry continues. “Because I feel like there’s lots of things I wanna share with them through the music. It’s… everyone else, I guess,”

“I don’t think it’s abnormal to want your privacy,” Alani comments. “To want to share things on your own terms. It’s human,”

“But isn’t that what it means to be loved?” he asks, chin resting in his palm. “To be known?”

Alani picks up on a glimmer of challenge behind Harry’s eyes, as if he is the one conducting the interview and trying to extract information from her.

“There’s a difference between knowing something about someone,” she argues. “And knowing someone,”

“It’s like Prince,” Harry says suddenly, an excited fire behind his emerald eyes. “Who knows anything about Prince besides the fact that he’s a fuckin’ great musician? I sure as hell don’t, but all you wanna do is know more, and that’s what makes him so magical. It’s mysterious… I like that,”

Alani snorts and looks up from her notes scrawled on the page. “Did you just describe Prince like your manic-pixie dream girl?”

“No,” Harry defends with an amused laugh. “Well, not intentionally anyway,”

“I’m sorry,” she apologizes with a wave of her hand. “No, I know what you mean. It’s like keeping the rock-star persona separate from your real life, makes it all more alluring,”

Harry nods, running a hand through his hair and shaking it out before securing his sunglasses back at the top of his head. “Yeah,”

“But earlier you also said you wanted to share some things with the fans,” Alani begins again, going back to her chicken scratch notes. “What kinds of things were you referring to?”

“Real life stuff,” he offers. “Mostly the not-so-great things. ‘Cos I mean no one wants to hear me sing about going to bars and how great everything is. The champagne popping,”

Harry trails off as his fingers smooth over the cross pendant hanging around his neck.

“I mean, I don’t wanna hear my favorite musicians talk about that, at least. I wanna know ‘how did you feel when you were alone in that hotel room, because you chose to be alone?’”

The wind begins to pick up more noticeably and the pages of Alani’s notebook flutter wildly, threatening to escape. Too wrapped up in their conversation, the pair hadn’t noticed the dwindling tourists or the cumulonimbus clouds hovering above. Harry squints up at the darkening sky and it peers back at him with equal contempt . He springs to his feet, quickly gathering some of Alani’s things for her.

“We gotta go,”

They quickly scurry and the sound of thunder rumbling in the distance quickens their pace up the steps. The adrenaline coursing through Alani’s veins masks the burning in her quads and calves, but Harry’s steady panting gives away his exertion. They’re almost halfway up the long trail of steps when another thunderclap pierces through the sky above them and sends a jolt through their bodies. One speckle of rain hits the pavement in front of Alani’s quick feet, and then another, and another, until the sky opens up and they are caught in the downpour. Alani shrieks and the sound makes Harry belly laugh, a hand instinctively reaching out to the middle of her back to brace her.

“Careful,” He calls out above the deafening rain. “Watch your step!”

Somehow over the sound of the rain and her own heavy breathing, Alani still manages to come up with a witty remark.

“Imagine the headlines!” she shouts over her shoulder. “‘Popstar Lures Innocent Civilian to Her Untimely Demise’,”

Alani doesn’t say anything about his palm still pressed securely against the small of her back, but the warmth of it spreads through her fingers and toes. They continue up the steps, each breathing a sigh of relief when the top is in sight. Harry reaches out for her hand when they make it to the landing, and she accepts it gladly, before they bolt to the parking lot where the lone Range Rover is parked. Once inside, a fit of laughter erupts from the both of them.

“What a cliché,” Harry comments. “Getting caught in the rain,”

Alani sighs. “Too bad we don’t have piña coladas,”

“We could maybe do something about that,” he shrugs.

Alani reaches for her phone and queues up the next song, which brings a cheshire grin to Harry’s face when he hears the familiar drums.

“Wasn’t what I meant, but okay,” he rolls his eyes, turning up the car’s heater before heading back out onto the highway.

“This song’s kinda fucked up when you think about it,” Alani muses, swaying in her seat. “But the chorus is fun,”

“S’all that matters when you’re sloshed,”

“Sorry about your seats, they’re gonna be soaked,” Alani apologizes as her wet socks squelch around in her shoes.

“Don’t worry about it,” he waves the concern away. “Occupational hazard.”

The drive to Alani’s house from ‘Akaka Falls is only 25 minutes and the two of them spend most of the time lost in their own thoughts, letting the car heater soothe their chilly bones. Alani watches the rain droplets race down the window pane and turns over some of Harry’s words in her mind. His comment about the waterfalls sticks out like a shell emerging from the sand. She begins to think that it perfectly captures this time in his life as he searches for something real amidst the chaos of fame. It’s an angle she’s keen to run with once she has the time to sort through her notes and write, but her thoughts also drift towards the waterfalls in her own life that she’s been chasing. Naturally, she thinks about Rolling Stone and what she hopes New York City will bring her. Adventure, she thinks at first, digging deeper when that doesn’t quite suffice. Success, getting warmer. Purpose, bingo. Alani sinks into her seat with a contented sigh.

“Piña coladas,” Harry hums once they’ve pulled up to Alani’s driveway. “Next time, we’re definitely getting piña coladas,”

Alani isn’t as surprised by his suggestion of meeting up for a third time, though it still sends her heartbeat through the roof. She tries not to think too hard about the implications.

“On you,” she teases.

“Of course,”

“Thanks again,” Alani says, turning to face him. “We covered a lot of material today,”

Harry flashes a shy smile in response. “Sorry ‘bout...your clothes. I should’ve checked the weather,”

“Occupational hazard,” she shrugs, mirroring his words from earlier. “So I guess I’ll just see you around then?”

“Yeah,” he swallows, suddenly aware of her proximity. “I mean are we still doing this—the interviews?”

Alani stops smoothing out her damp waves, feeling as if she had overstepped. “If that’s okay. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have assumed—”

“No, it’s okay,” Harry reassures her. “I’m available—I mean for your writing I’m—”

He stumbles over his words and Alani eases the slightest bit knowing that he’s nervous, too.

“Just let me know, whenever.” he says finally, regaining his composure.

“Will do.” she nods slowly.

Alani’s eyes dart to Harry’s lips briefly, lingering just long enough that Harry notices, but too quick for him to justify closing the gap. Before he knows it, he’s missed his chance and she’s slipping out of the car, closing the door with a sense of finality that makes his stomach drop.

Alani makes her way up to the house, gravel crunching under her feet and head pounding.

Don’t get too close, she reminds herself. Don’t go chasing waterfalls.

Next Chapter

#harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles writing #solo harry #harry styles fluff #harry styles x oc #one direction #harry styles fic #harry fic #ybmh #it's getting real smirk emoji

[odos-bucket]

So to continue my thoughts on Clark and Bruce adopting Jason together (begun here)

They go back to crime alley the next day. Bruce brings a copy of The Scarlet Pimpernel for Jason, who seems vaguely surprised to see them again. He isn’t as wary as he had been when they’d met in the middle of the night, and even sits beside Clark when they get onto the bus (though both end up giving their places up to other passengers before they can reach their destination).

At this point Clark and Bruce are focused on the idea of getting Jason enrolled in school, so the intention with this get together is to familiarize him with some potential institutions. Bruce was up all the previous night researching Gotham boarding schools, and reaching out to faculty members.

Despite all the preparation, the whole thing goes terribly.

Jason seems fine on the bus, but is tense and anxious during the actual school visits. He’s engaged by the classes and lectures he sits in on, but overall feels out of place, and is distrustful of pretty much everyone he ends up interacting with. He’s feeling conflicted, because he loves school, and he knows he’ll be pissed at himself forever if he really has this opportunity and ends up letting it slip by. But on the other hand he’s justifiably paranoid about perceived kindness from strangers (and yeah maybe it’s a little easier to trust Superman than it would be just anybody, but he still doesn’t really know the guy). And even if there isn’t some hidden catch to the offer, he’s not sure he can get on board with living somewhere where there’s a curfew, where his activities would be monitored. The idea of ceding any amount of control in his life at this point makes his skin crawl. He figures he owes it to himself to at least see if this is something that could work out, but goddamn if everything about it isn’t overwhelming and kind of horrifying.

And that’s all before other people start making themselves problems. Everywhere they end up going there’s bullshit to deal with from students, teachers, and administration.

Because of course the people running facilities designed to cater to Gotham socialites don’t treat Jason right. Even with freakin’ Batman and Superman with him he gets suspicious glares and withering looks.

None of that is any less than he expected. What really gets Jason is how put off everyone seems to be by his questions. He comes into every office with a list of things he’s curious about (Batman isn’t the only one who stayed up the previous night to prepare). He wants to know what percentage of the student bodies are there on scholarship, how the meal plans work, what the curfews are, how tightly regulated students’ time is outside of classes, what his life would be like if he put it into their hands.

The administrators don’t like the ‘interrogation’. Which is absolutely insane, because really they should expect any prospective student to have questions. And they should be prepared to answer them. That should be a part of their job, right??

But there’s this attitude of, “We don’t need to explain ourselves to the likes of you,” of, “Just be grateful you have a place here at all.” And that’s what puts Jason over the edge, has him realizing that this isn’t something he’s going to be able to deal with.

It’s after he gets more or less the same reception at the third place they’ve visited, that he finally just has to leave. He can’t take it, he can’t stand it, he has to get out of the office before he bites somebody’s head off.

He gets outside as quickly as he can, and feels some relief breathing in the fresh air (fresh by Gotham standards at least). He feels so stupid for believing he could have this. Really he should have known better. And he hates feeling stupid more than anything.

Superman trails out after him. And Jason can’t figure out what he’s still doing here. And he’s embarrassed to be upset in front of him. And he’s angry that he feels embarrassed when he doesn’t have any good reason to be. And-

“Jason.”

His name ends up cutting through the disorientation he hadn’t quite realized he was experiencing.

Superman is in front of him, just far enough away that he can’t reach out and touch him. Jason stares at him.

“This is shit,” he says, trying to keep his voice casual.

“What happened?”

They had offered to go in with him to meet the dean of the first school. Jason had turned them down, and they hadn’t offered any of the subsequent times. He hadn’t exactly been keeping them apprized of what was going on either, even though questioning him wasn’t something they had given up on after it had failed to yield anything the first time.

“The same thing that always happens,” Jason says. “No one really want someone like me at their fancy school.”

Superman’s eyes narrow.

“What happened?” He asks again. “What did he say?”

“Doesn’t matter… Look, this has been fun and all, but I kinda just want to go home. So if you don’t mind-“

Batman appears with them as quickly as he’s able to disappear. Neither see where he comes from. He’s just suddenly walking toward them, meeting them, and continuing on without slowing down.

“We’re leaving,” he grunts.

Jason hesitates briefly, confused. But then his thoughts catch up to him enough to realize that leaving is exactly what he wants to be doing, and he hurries after Batman.

The heroes are deeply engrossed in their own conversation as they make their way off the grounds. It’s soft, and urgent, and Jason assumes it has something to do with the fate of the world, which he’s vaguely interested in. But he doesn’t think they’d appreciate him asking questions about things that don’t directly concern him. So he says nothing.

As they get closer to the street he realizes he’s not sure what happens next. He’s feeling tired, and frustrated, and he both really wants to be alone, and doesn’t want them to leave him. Mostly- at least so he tells himself- he wants to make sure that they don’t leave him without bus fare. He’s pretty sure they’ll give it to him if he asks, but he’s also hoping that he doesn’t need to ask.

Once they’re off the property, Batman turns around to face him.

“Jason, I’m so sorry. I don’t know exactly what Dean Sterlins said to you, but if it was anything like what he was saying while I was in there, it was way way out of line.” He starts off sounding tired, and ends up sounding angry.

Angry grownups are something that Jason generally tries to avoid, but Batman’s anger doesn’t feel particularly dangerous, and as he goes on it shifts into something more like urgency.

“Please believe, we never would have knowingly put you in that situation. I- Were the others the same?” There’s a hint of resignation in his tone that suggests he already knows the answer to that, so Jason doesn’t feel the need to do more than shrug.

Batman sighs, and it comes out as such an unexpectedly sad sound that he almost snorts out a laugh.

“Why didn’t you say something before?” Superman asks gently.

Because he had been holding out a stupid hope that if he stuck with this long enough he might find something worthwhile. Because he didn’t want to give them a reason to believe he’s more trouble than he’s worth. Because it didn’t occur to him that they might genuinely want to know until literally just now.

He shrugs. The heroes exchange a look.

Jason’s grip on the book Batman gave him tightens slightly, and he clears his throat.

“Look, uh, I’m sure there’s somewhere else you guys need to be. I appreciate you taking the time to…” He gestures around. “You know.”

“There’s no where else we need to be today,” Superman says.

“Oh… Okay?”

“There’s one more place we’d like to take you,” he continues. “If it’s all right with you. It’ll be the last one.”

Jason wrinkles his nose. He kind of just wants to go home at this point. The optimistic ‘maybe the next place will be different’ feeling he’d had at the beginning of the day has long since shriveled. And curling up with his new book sounds pretty nice right now.

But at the same time, the last three visits have all included opportunities for free food. It stands to reason that this next one will as well. That should make it worth it even if he already knows with near certainty that they can’t be heading somewhere where he might actually have a future. Plus, Superman has this dumb, hopeful look on his face that it’s hard to say no to.

So he takes the bus with them to a fourth location. The ride’s a little less than half an hour long, and the building they arrive at looks different from the campuses they’d been to earlier. It’s not huge. The architecture is pretty simple by Gotham standards. It’s more immediately recognizable as a school.

They go inside, and Batman stops to exchange a few brief words with a woman in the front office.

“There’s a seventh grade English class starting in about ten minutes,” he informs Jason afterwards. “Would you like to sit in on it? We can meet back here afterwards.”

Jason agrees eagerly. This was the part of the last three trips that he’d actually liked. Maybe he can get in and out without needing to sit down with any deans or headmasters.

He attends a class where the students aren’t wearing uniforms, where he gets a few curious glances, but no lingering glares. He gives a note from the woman at the front desk to the teacher, and a few kids offer him greeting nods or smiles before the lecture begins.

The class is more than halfway done, and he’s been deeply engrossed in a discussion about The Giver- which he has never read, but now fully intends to- when all the observations he’s been making about this place click together.

The class ends, and he meets his chaperones back in the hall- where Superman is entertaining a group of ten year olds- to inform them of his realization.

“This isn’t a boarding school,” he says, once the rest of the kids have shuffled on to their next classes.

“No it is not,” Batman agrees.

Jason scowls.

“I stopped going to regular school for a reason,” he reminds them. “I can’t do this. As in literally can’t. I tried!” He’s trying not to sound upset, but it feels like they’re teasing him with this one.

“School’s a lot to manage without a stable living situation.” Batman says.

Jason huffs out a low agreement.

“So we were thinking…” He looks around, as if confirming the hall’s emptiness, before stepping into Jason’s line of sight. “We were thinking you could come and stay with us, and we could bring you to school here.”

Jason’s mind doesn’t process the offer fast enough for him to react immediately. Even once he’s sure of what he’s heard he thinks he must be misunderstanding. He looks up and at each of them try to draw clues from their expressions, their body language. It’s nearly impossible to do with Batman. Superman looks open, honest, and… hopeful. But that’s how he always looks, so does it really even mean anything?

Unable to make any useful interpretations, he asks the only question his mind has been able to form.

“What?”

“Would you like to come and live with us?” Superman says clearly.

Jason continues to stare for several seconds.

“Both of you?” He asks, because that’s interesting, and far easier to comprehend than the idea that someone might want him.

Batman clears his throat, and Superman-

-Superman blushes, which is enough to distract Jason from all the bizarre turns this day has taken.

“And, um, and our son,” he adds. “We have a son. He’s about five years older than you.”

The gears in Jason’s brain turn and click together.

“Robin,” he says quietly.

The vigilantes exchange uncertain looks, like they’ve been doing all day.

“Nightwing now,” Batman says, barely loud enough to be a whisper.

Jason just nods, because this is insane, and despite being born and raised in Gotham, he doesn’t always have a prepared response to insanity. A long moment passes, and all three of them stare at each other.

“Y- you want to foster me?” He says the words so so carefully, like he could chase the reality of them out of existence if he misspeaks, like he’s sure he hasn’t understood them properly.

“We do,” Superman says, quickly enough that the breath that had caught in Jason’s throat as soon as he’d gotten the question out can escape before it gets the chance to make him light headed. “We really do.”

Jason can’t imagine how this will work. He’s pretty sure it’s not a process that can be undergone with fake identities. Does that mean they’re willing to let him know who they are? Or maybe there’s some kind of exception for super heroes. He understands the procedure well enough to know that it’s bound to be a bureaucratic nightmare.

“Yeah,” he finds himself saying before he’s done thinking it through.

Today has been weird, and exhausting. But he likes this place. And he’s pretty sure he likes these people. And really, he would be crazy to say no, wouldn’t he.

“Let’s try it.”

#batfam #batfamily #superbat #bruce wayne #clark kent #jason todd #dc #my writing #batman #superman #batman and robin

[queenofimagines]

It’s Happened Before

Request: “heyy can you do one where y/n normally plays hard to get around guys but when she’s really drunk one guy won’t leave her alone and jj saves her. When he takes her home he’s super sweet and y/n is all over him, he likes it because he has a huge crush on her but then he feels bad bc he doesn’t want to take advantage. At some point y/n thinks that he will take advantage of her in her drunk mind and she says it’s happened before. ((Also love ur writing sm))💜” by @maybebanks

Warnings: Mentions of sexual assault

Notes: I’ve never written a fic with sexual assault before so I apologize if it’s inaccurate or insensitive in any way, I promise that is not my intention. If any of you find any discrepancies in my writing of it or find anything offending please let me know so I can fix it and so I can pay attention to it in the future. Thank you!

Also, this ended up being really long... sorry not sorry :)

You loved playing hard to get, and JJ loved that you never made it easy for him. He fell for your spit-fire attitude right away and since then had never stopped trying to make you his. If you were being honest, though, you liked this little game of cat and mouse that you and JJ had started when you met. You liked how he followed you around like a lost puppy, but you also took pride in the fact that you got the JJ Maybank, notorious for only ever having one night stands, to want you and only you.

Everyone knew of your little game, many already thinking of you as JJ’s girl and referring to you as such because of how inevitable it was that you two would end up together. You hoped they were right, and that you and JJ would end up in an actual relationship. You were young, you knew that you still needed to figure out exactly what you wanted out of life and where you wanted it to go, but to you, one thing was for certain: no matter what happened or where you went, you wanted JJ Maybank to be there. But you were scared, scared that he’d get bored of you, scared that he only liked you for the chase. You were by no means a thrill-seeker, often opting to go with the safer options when John B presented you guys with whatever adventurous scheme he had come up with. JJ, on the other hand, liked to run headfirst into danger without even so much as a plan, something that made you uneasy. You were sure that when the chase was over you’d have a few weeks of bliss before the realization that you weren’t actually what JJ wanted would hit him like a sucker punch and that he’d leave you like so many others had. What you didn’t know, though, was that JJ was by no means in it for the thrill of the chase.

JJ saw right through you. He knew that your quick wit was a way for you to cover up your fear and your pain. He knew that fear and pain caused you to lead him on this chase in the first place. And sure, he liked it when you played hard to get, but that wasn’t what drew him in. JJ fell in love with the way you cared about him and the other Pogues. He fell for the way you always seemed to have just enough time in your busy schedule to help Kiara clean up the litter that so many had carelessly left behind at keggers, how you always seemed to have just enough time to cook for John B when he wasn’t taking care of himself like he should have, how you always seemed to know exactly what to say to calm down Pope when he got anxious, how you always kept him out late enough so that he would just have to spend the night with you instead of going home, and how, when it was necessary for him to go home, you always seemed to “accidentally” leave your blankets in his room during winter when you knew it would be freezing. JJ fell in love with you because you cared about him in a way no one else had before, the chase you led him on was just part of the fun, but even without it JJ still would have stared at you as if you had hung the moon just for him.

It was the beginning of summer, and high time for you and the Pogues to throw yet another kegger to kick it off. You, for one, were more than happy to get uninhibitedly drunk to drown out the insecurities you had when it came to your maybe-relationship with JJ. You were on your fourth cup of beer by now, the party only having started less than an hour ago, and to say you were plastered was an understatement. You didn’t have a particularly high tolerance, you and the rest of the Pogues were very aware of that, but you didn’t care, you just wanted to get wasted and have fun. JJ knew something was up with you when you chugged your first beer right away as you weren’t the chugging type. All of the Pogues noticed your strange behavior too. They knew that you were the kind of person to sip your beer until you were buzzed and keep yourself in that state but never surpass it. JJ knew something was wrong and assured Kiara, John B, and Pope that he would keep an eye on you when they brought up that one of them should stay sober enough to make sure you didn’t do anything stupid. He reasoned with them, stating that since he was the only one of the four who hadn’t had at least three beers by this point that he would be the best bet to stay sober. The Pogues were confused, knowing JJ to be the first of them to get completely hammered, but they didn’t question him, instead agreeing and turning back to the party. What he neglected to tell them was that he had already made up his mind to stay sober and watch over you at the beginning of the party and that his decision to have only one beer, although it was more like half a beer since he was trying to be as completely sober as possible without it looking too suspicious, was purposely made before anyone else had even noticed how off you were acting.

You were unaware of the lingering eyes on you, you were also unaware that the eyes staring at your figure weren’t just JJ’s. A boy around your age, a Touron you guessed based on his sweatshirt which sported some college that you just knew wasn’t from anywhere near the Outer Banks, had seen you dancing with some old acquaintances of yours and decided it was time to approach you. You didn’t notice him coming up behind you, but JJ did, he didn’t dare make a move though, knowing you hated that macho bullshit and were perfectly capable of handling yourself, but he was still on edge when the boy placed his hands on your hips.

You thought the boy was JJ, really you did. But the second you pressed your back into him you knew you were sorely mistaken. You quickly turned around, eyeing the boy who had put his hands on you not mere seconds before, telling him to go away. You didn’t want him, you wanted JJ, and even your drunk self knew that you would never want to be dancing with anybody else.

“Come on, baby, let’s just have some fun,” the boy said, grabbing your hips again. But you resisted, pushing him away and beginning to walk away in the hopes that you could find said blondie.

“Hey! Don’t walk away from me,” the boy said, tightly grabbing onto your bicep. “Didn’t your parents ever teach you that it’s rude to ignore someone who’s talking to you?”

“Didn’t anyone ever teach you that you shouldn’t be grabbing girls like that?” JJ responded, having seen the interaction from where he stood near the keg and immediately making his way over to you.

“Listen, buddy, I wasn’t talking to you.” The boy stepped closer to JJ, pushing you out of the way and causing you to trip and fall onto the sand. That did it for JJ, who began throwing punches at the Touron who dared lay a hand on you. The Touron didn’t stand a chance against JJ and you quickly realized that you would have to stop him from killing the boy.

“JJ,” you said meekly, hoping that your voice was loud enough to hear. You didn’t want to talk much louder, your head already pounding from the sudden shift of your body when you fell. But he couldn’t hear you, not over the sound of the crowd egging on the fight.

“JJ!” You yelled, already regretting the decision when you felt the throbbing in your head get worse. JJ stopped, looking over at you with furrowed eyebrows. “Can we just go, please?”

JJ slowly nodded, letting go of the Touron and carefully picking you up to take you back to the Chateau. He sat you down on the couch, beginning to move away to turn the lights on, but your grip on his hand was vice-like.

“Y/N, let me turn on the lights, alright sweetheart?”

“No, stay.” JJ couldn’t fight you when you looked so sleepy and utterly adorable. He made his way next to you on the couch where you proceeded to practically fall into his lap. JJ moved so that you were lying comfortably against him, sure that you would probably just fall right asleep. But instead of hearing your soft snores, he felt your hand reach up into his hair and your lips gently trail across his neck. His heart rate sped up, loving the soft attention he was receiving and pulling you closer, running his hands along your sides, only stopping when he heard your breath hitch and felt your body tense.

“Sweetheart, what’s wrong?” He asked.

“N-nothing,” you responded.

“We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.” He said quickly, afraid that you thought he only wanted to have sex with you and feeling like he was taking advantage of your state of mind by not stopping you from delivering the physical affection he craved. You quickly sat up, staring at him with watery eyes full of disbelief.

“You-you’re not going to...?” You trailed off, not wanting to say it.

“Sweetheart, I’d never take advantage of you like that. Even if you wanted to I wouldn’t let you, you’re not in your right mind right now and I need you to be fully aware if we do this.” He said, thinking that the tears in your eyes and the look on your face were caused by disappointment. Before he knew it you had launched yourself at him, tightly hugging him to you while you sobbed into his shoulder. JJ was beyond confused at this point but he knew that he just needed to be here for you right now. He slowly wrapped his hands around you so as not to startle you.

“Thank you,” you whispered.

“For what?”

“For not taking advantage of me.”

“You don’t have to thank me for that, sweetheart, I’d never do that to you.” You sniffled, mumbling a response. He dearly hoped you didn’t say what he thought you said, but the waver in your voice at the words you spoke was unmistakable.

“It’s not like it hasn’t happened before.” JJ’s heart broke. Someone had taken advantage of you? He quickly pulled you away from him in order to look at you.

“Who?” He questioned. He was beyond angry, ready to fight the person who had made you feel like you needed to thank him for being a decent fucking human being. You shook your head.

“Some Touron a couple of months ago.” A couple of months ago? How did he not know? How could he have let that happen to you?

“We snuck away from the party, I thought he just wanted to talk but I was just being stupid. He was older and made me feel special so I followed along when he suggested we go somewhere else. H-he started touching me, I didn’t want him to. I told him to stop but he didn’t. He started kissing me and then we heard a gunshot. He bolted as soon as he heard it and I tried to come and find you guys.” You were sobbing at this point, not wanting to remember the moment having not fully processed the situation. JJ began crying too, angry that he didn’t protect you and angry that you had been struggling with this alone.

“No, no, no, that’s not your fault. You weren’t being stupid, okay? I’m sorry, sweetheart, I’m so sorry.” He didn’t know what else to say, what could he have said? What happened to you wasn’t okay and he wasn’t sure how to handle it either, so he pulled you close to him, letting you cry into his chest despite the pain it caused him to hear your broken sobs. Soon you fell asleep, the rest of the Pogues having come back to the Chateau not too long after, quietly asking JJ if you were alright. JJ shook his head, silently telling them that they’d have that conversation tomorrow. They all nodded, John B heading to his room and Pope and Kie heading to the spare room to give you guys some space.

As JJ lay in the dark, calmed by your steady breathing, he stroked his hand through your hair and promised you that he would protect you, no matter what.

#obx #obx x reader #obx imagine #obx one shot #obx oneshot #outer banks #outer banks imagine #outer banks x reader #outer banks one shot #outer banks oneshot #jj maybank #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank one shot #jj maybank oneshot #rudy pankow #rudy pankow imagine