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#so anyway this is canonically how riddle tells them apart
egophiliac · 2 years
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the tweel's parents being a part of the mafia is actually brought up again in his starsending wish! he talks about how his dad told him to get the best shoes possible and that he should always pay attention to details and then idia is like. So what Does your dad do. and he's like well and then idia literally says that he feels like if he asks he'll be "sleeping with the fishes" i love this game it is So Stupid
ooh right, I forgot about that! thanks! :D man, I super want to see their parents...I'm hoping we get more of those events that are basically, like, "let's go to a character's hometown and meet a relative!" -- I guess we've already seen the Coral Sea, but it would be a fun place to revisit, and my god just IMAGINE THE CARDS that would go with an event set there. although if we can only get one relative per location I think I'd actually go with Azul's mom (if I remember right the birthday card trivia there is that his stepdad was his mom's divorce attorney, which is an absolute power move and I desperately want to meet this woman).
uhhh I feel weird just making a bunch of text posts without any art so while I'm on the topic my other favorite octatrio factoid is -- and this isn't a story spoiler but it is said in episode 6 so possible spoilers? -- that Floyd keeps forgetting to take his Stay Human meds so he'll sometimes just...randomly start popping out fins and laughing about it, like
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kalims · 2 years
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‎˃ ᵕ ˂ . . "it's high-school and it feels like i have a freaking harem."
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high school otome au,
parts. one , two , three , remake
characters. epel, ace, deuce, jamil, leona, riddle, malleus, jade, floyd, silver, neige, ???.
cw. set in another universe, some things are canon to the original twst timeline but not all, gender neutral reader, pretend we are smart.
note. usually I don't go past 8 characters for twst but this will be an exception. anyways what the fuck am I doing in my life LOL
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✦ you — the new transfer student whose on a scholarship personally assigned by crowley himself. your presence alone strikes great curiosity to students. but when you're clearly surrounded by many guys full of different, colorful reputations they don't suppose they have a chance to become your freind. or another?
✦ riddle rosehearts — the student council president who seems to terrify every other student. he's strict, he's an honor student, he has authority, he's riddle rosehearts. the one student that gets classrooms running to fix themselves and since you were new you weren't spared the mercy when he caught you snacking on a pair of tarts in the middle of a class, promptly demanding you come with him as the class sends you mental prayers. you learn he's quite lonely when you see him sit by himself in lunch, his other friend named trey seemed to be absent. he looks suprised when you sit next to him and offer him a tart. the conversation goes smoothly, people stare when he butters up. and now you're given more passes to some rule breaches compared to other students.
✦ epel felmier — your childhood sweetheart. you've known epel ever since you were in diapers, both your mothers are great friends and teases you both about marriage to each other. it became more clear and embarrassing the more you grow up. it's a nice thought really but with all your studies going on, you don't suppose you have the time to date. one day epel starts complaining about how his new upperclassmen moaned about beauty and his 'soft face' you merely laugh and tell him that you'd always be glad to see him as 'your man' (did you miss his red face, or his hopeful eyes?)
✦ jamil viper — a junior whose a regular on the basketball team. you officially meet jamil when trein had him volunteer into tutoring you, you die a little on the inside when you see the look on his face. it's stoic, and relaxes but you can't can't but see that there's a rageful storm behind his eyes. he doesn't talk much, but when he does his voice was so beautiful that you can't help but blurt out that it is. he looks scandalized, and shocked. as if no one ever told him so. he closes his eyes and hopes you don't hear his heart beating loudly. for once he hopes that the gods will give him a chance to have this one thing. (if you ask he'll never introduce you to kalim)
✦ ace trapolla — your roommate, he's apart of the basketball team. crowley had graciously given you an apartment to stay in. it's rather old, definitely dusty compared to the other dorms but it definitely works. you're only slightly upset when he tells you that you're to dorm with two other people. it's dead in the night when the door abruptly slams open, you grab a broom to defend yourself in case it's am intruder and shove it forward when you hear a creak. it hits a boy with a sweaty forehead and the familiar basketball uniform. you apologize profusely when he mumbles about you being the new roommate.
✦ deuce spade — your other roommate. other than ace he's apparently striving to be an honor student like the council president. you learn that he has a mother than he so dearly loves that he'd be easily labeled as 'mommy's boy' and his aggressive, delinquent side comes out when a bunch of jocks bumps into the both of you coming from a trip to the local store for some eggs. the collision makes them fall and break, when the jocks laugh deuce starts clenching his fist so hard that you can see me veins behind it... aaand he socks one of them in the face. (too bad he looks even more upset when he learns they weren't fertilized.)
✦ leona kingscholar — a player who ever rarely appears in class, you only actually see him whenever there's soccer tournaments held. he's unsurprisingly arrogant, a trait you knew to expect when it comes to athletes. he told you he'd take your teeth if you didn't apologize after accidentally trampling his sandwich. for the next following weeks he makes you run around as his errand runner and you've no choice but to comply lest he actually takes a tooth. now you're basically a few months after meeting him he just starts approaching you in the middle of a game and asks "well? did I do good?" the crowd watches in amazement when he doesn't leave immediately (to probably go nap back at his dormitory as he usually does.)
✦ malleus draconia — a mysterious man you meet in the park you tend to relax in. it's abandoned, rather eery but all the well comforting. apparently you're not the only one who found it. malleus is a tall guy, he's easy to spot in broad daylight, and hard to discern when it's in the middle of the night. he blends in with the shadows easily but it's like he's meant to thrive in the sunlight. you both eventually end up sitting on a bench together, not saying anything. the silence is enough to comfort both of you. you're pleasantly suprised when you see him in school the very next day, confused when everyone scatters when you walk in the hallways. half aware of the tall guy following closely behind you with a happy smile.
✦ jade leech — the guy whom you believed to be your one true love, you never really approached him. only casting aside fleeting looks. he's tall, a gentleman, knows how to cook, and a beautiful face. well you've only come to know that he's apparently sadistic when he's led you on many times before treating you horribly. you witnessed him dump you without any regard and leave you heartbroken. you're not happy when he displays a sudden interest in you once again. does he really think a bunch of flowers (your favorite) is gonna make you all good again?
✦ floyd leech — the brother of your ex-boyfriend. he knows of your feelings and uses it for his own entertainment, usually like threatening to expose your feelings whenever he feels like it. he's hands down one of the most terrifying guys on the campus, his tendency to have moods makes him greatly feared. there's more and more menacing rumors about him but it's strange because you never really see him angry anymore. (the students itch to tell you that floyd responds positively to your presence and any trces leading to his angry mood completely disappears.)
✦ silver — a junior whose on the horse riding club. you muse that he resembles somewhat a disney princess, he's beautiful, the animals come scurrying to him whenever he sleeps, and everything he does is like the forces of nature itself shift to make himself look more ethereal than he already is. he's quiet, a little intimidating on the front since he looks quite strong. but you realize it's not really true when you see him shyly present you a flower as you both laid on the grass side by side. the moment is interrupted by a green haired boy who starts screaming about club activities.
✦ neige leblanche — a flowery boy from the rivaling school full of honorary, righteous students. neige is a celebrity, you never really expected to meet him not befreind him at all. true to the rumors, he really is a good natured, pure hearted boy who wishes nothing but the best for others. including you, but you're once again. still unkownst to the fact that he believes that there is nothing that might ever reach your greatness. he thinks that no one could ever be good enough to have you.. but alas, he can't really say that when he hasn't met everyone. the least he can think of is himself..
✦ ??? — he witnesses. he was always the second choice, you already have a best freind, epel. so he can't assume the position of yours when you already have one. he's witnessed and witnessed, boys falling for you left and right when you're so oblivious to some of their feelings. you're so lovely, so charming, so beautiful. you're so perfect that he wants to make sure that you're nothing less. he wonders when you'll finally notice him when everyone else never intentionally, or unintentionally ignored his presence. they're full of envy, admiration and lots of else but you have no idea who he is, and he will make sure you do, he will make sure you know what he is capable of, what lengths he's going to do for you, and what he will do with you.
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thatmooncake · 1 year
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What is your opinion on the books hinting that Moon shouldn't have existed but the Faz-pads most expensive menu items is moon themed? And the posters, plushies, and the infamous sphere? I loved your other 'rant' (for lack of a better term in my sleep deprived mind) and it got me thinking...
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I’m guessing you mean the Moon that appears in The Bobbiedots who was originally built to be the “dark side” of Sun and once worked as a theatre animatronic?
Okay spoilers for The Bobbiedots, Somniphobia and Security Breach and some rambling thoughts ahead:
In short, I think the books’ canon (even from one book to another like say Bobbiedots and Somniphobia) and the games’ canon are more like AUs of each other than anything else, so basically different explanations will be given in different stories to fit that book or game in particular. So, Bobbiedots Moon wasn’t meant to exist in the daycare, but it looks like Security Breach Moon was. That said, I LOVE exploring the different versions of Moon and how he’s used in different stories, so if anyone wants to take the long scenic route with me, here we go!
Bobbiedots Moon
Theatre kid extraordinaire. A little too committed to the bit. Bobbiedots Moon doesn’t fit in his world - not in the daycare anyway. In The Bobbiedots, they’re busy dealing with an evil apartment. They don’t have time for poor Moon, no matter how badly he wants them to sleep.
Bobbiedots Moon feels like a bit of a throwback to the animatronics in Sister Location who had all these “interesting” design choices, like a stomach hatch for storing children (which totally wasn’t going to be used for evil, come on guys …).
In Moon’s case, he’s so good at being a pantomime villain (which is what he was made for from what we can tell - who bets he got booed because the kids wanted the sun to come back up and when the lights went out they’d fake snore and he’d go hunting down the naughty ones who couldn’t help but laugh?) that he’s no good in the daycare (personally I think the staff just weren’t imaginative enough in that universe to do naptime, or to appreciate the charm of a weird clown telling off wobbling toys for not sleeping when his recognition sensors inevitably failed him because they couldn’t be bothered to fix their broken animatronics). And he’s easy to exploit because he’s so committed to his role.
I don’t think Moon was evil by default when he worked at the theatre - at least not beyond his villainous role. He had an audience of probably more people than he could grab, and I’m guessing Freddy’s wanted repeat performances so their customers would keep coming back. Did he kidnap a child or two when the lights went out and everyone was confused? Maybe, if he was virus-riddled enough. Did he become a lot more unstable when he and Sun were moved to the daycare? Probably, but it’s not his fault he was an afterthought in a cheapo organisation that seems to think using precariously-placed backup generators is a better solution to their problems.
Security Breach Moon
Meanwhile, the Security Breach version of Moon has a TON of merch, a dish at the restaurant (Masa-Moondrop curry, yum! 💖 By the way, I totally recommend checking out this recipe ), and even his own little candy adverts. He’s on a statue, balloons, plushies, and even on the daycare pass right next to Sun. It would take a LOT of accidental advertising to put Moon all over the place if he wasn’t supposed to exist in Security Breach.
I think that, unlike the Bobbiedots Moon, Security Breach Moon was supposed to exist. Like you said, he’s got merch everywhere. It’s a big deal. And Moon’s merch matches all of Sun’s merch, so to me it makes sense that in the backstory of the game’s universe they both had a friendly role to play (I can’t imagine why they’d make a Moon plush with no one to hug him. The thought makes me sad. It also seems like a bad business move on their part so I’m opting to believe he was originally meant to be a friend to the kids).
But it looks like things took a turn at some point (as they so often do in the FNAF universe), as Security Breach also has the cheapo lighting in place, and Sun is pretty adamant that we don’t wake up Moon. And in this case it’s pretty clear that Moon has been infected by the Afton virus. He sounds like a bot with just one thing on his mind: putting you to bed at all costs.
Moon is a major player as far as the evil Afton operation goes in the game too. They picked a perfect bot to do their dirty work. He’s super strong - he knocked out Freddy and dragged him away with no problems. He’s also super agile - he can navigate all the tight twists and turns in the Daycare with relative ease (I pointedly ignore the version in my game while I make this statement as he seemed to spend most of his time getting stuck in the tunnels and slides kekeke). And he always seems to know where you are - the Glamrocks wander until they have you in their sights, but Moon makes a beeline for you the moment he can get his hands on you even if you’re inside Freddy’s stomach compartment. He works in the dark when no one can see him coming. He’s basically the perfect replacement for the night staff and makes it a million times easier to capture wayward kids.
There are also a lot of hints in the game that suggest that Security Breach Moon might have actually been reprogrammed to respond this way, and/or that he was used to reprogram the others.
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The back areas with the endos are FULL of Moon merch, advertising, and so on. There are also a lot of posters teaching the animatronic endos how to behave, as well as a little room that looks a LOT like a little replica of the daycare play area. I’m pretty sure that this is where the animatronics (or at least the virus-riddled endos) were reprogrammed to capture children - maybe including Moon.
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(There are a million things I could say about this poster and how it bears a strong resemblance to a bunch of things from earlier games but that’s for another time and another ramble …)
Somniphobia Moon
Meanwhile, over in Somniphobia, we have Moondrop’s dream sphere, where Moon ponders his orb, or perhaps his new friends who are now trapped inside it forever since it seems like he’s been stealing more than a few souls over there.
The dream sphere is not mentioned in The Bobbiedots or seen in Security Breach as far as I can tell. Whether it exists or not in those universes is open to interpretation, but it serves a clever purpose in Somniphobia. In this book, our favourite uncanny night jester spends his time luring unsuspecting victims into the dreamscape slowly without them realising. The protagonist actually has a few opportunities to escape the pull of the orb, but he just can’t put the dream sphere down because it takes him back to his favourite memories with his (now dead) father, and it makes their time together feel so real.
The dream sphere is advertised as a study guide, and it’s popular with older kids and teens. (Moon has the range). Our regular chase-you-down-and-force-you-to-sleep Moon is nowhere to be found in Somniphobia (whether he exists at the plex in the daycare or anywhere else in that universe is anybody’s guess) and instead we have sweet little Moondrop from the dream sphere who doesn’t speak but will let you see your wildest dreams. At the cost of your mind, which is now going to live in a sphere I guess or be harvested.
Can you befriend the little Moondrop from the dream sphere? Does he know he’s part of a creepy soul-stealing operation? The book doesn’t really say, but if he’s anything like most of the other animatronic/AI characters in the FNAF universe, I’d be willing to wager he’s just doing his job (showing people what they want to see) and being used as a prop for more nefarious soul-snatching schemes. (Curse you Fazbear Entertainment for giving us this funny little guy in a magic snowglobe and making him steal our souls along with our hearts!)
Conclusion
Essentially, I think Moon is being used in basically all the universes he appears in because he’s so perfectly built for capturing and retrieving wayward souls, but the way he’s being used differs a little between universes. In some universes it’s just not as convenient to have him showing up in front of a large audience thanks to his programming, but when the lights inevitably go out he has a tendency to show up nonetheless!
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Can you just imagine how painful it must be for Vador to utter the word "Senator"...
i did… and then my hand slipped…
note: this kind of assumes Vader didn’t know Obi-Wan was still alive, but I wrote this on a whim and what even is canon anyway.
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It was the breathing that did it.
There were many terrifying factors to Darth Vader’s appearance, but it was the distinct mechanical hiss of his life-giving ventilator that scattered Keshian crew and nobles alike out of his way as he strode inexorably towards the bridge. A child stared in horror up at him from a side door before its mother pulled it away into the room. Metal creaked and bent before him as he pulled the bridge doors apart, stepping through the now-empty space like it was no big feat. The crew of the ship flurried around in a flustered rush, but at the middle one woman stood still, and there was something familiar about her as she turned towards him-
“Okay, what’s Jabba the Hutt’s middle name?” Hardcase grinned as the rest all shrugged. “The!” 
Jesse and Fives groaned, but Ahsoka raised an eyebrow as Feli let out a soft laugh. “Where do you get all these jokes?”
“From the Darth Maul,” Hardcase said cheekily. “What do you get when you cross a bounty hunter with a tropical fruit? Mango Fett!” By then, Rex was facedown on the table, covering his ears, and even Padmé seemed to be over it. Feli was the only one who seemed to appreciate the riddles, and seeing her laugh was so different to Anakin than how she usually was, calm, composed and-
It was her. 
The steadfast senator of Mochi (that idyllic Outer Rim planet that Padmé had dreamed of retiring to) was the very same woman who stood in front of Vader now. Feli Dashone. One of Padmé’s trusted allies, Hardcase’s one true love, the woman who hadn’t smiled since they’d gotten back from Umbara. 
He should say something. ‘Feli’ hurt too much to say, so he went with the better option. Not that it didn’t hurt, just that it hurt less. “Senator,” he rumbled. “Or should I say traitor?”
“Lord Vader.” She was as cool and collected as ever, meeting his emotionless black mask with no trace of the fear that normally dogged his adversaries. “I see you and the Empire’s cronies have decided to… inspect our vessel. There’s no need. We’re on a diplomatic mission to-”
Vader had heard it all before. “You are aiding the Rebellion.”
“I am delivering food to refugees on Alderaan. Surely that is not a Rebel act.”
“It is when you also smuggled weapons, Imperial blueprints, and supplies to insurgents on Lothal on your way there.” He took a step closer; his large build cast a sharp grey shadow over her slight frame, but she did not flinch. “We found the manifest of your ship. Did you think your actions would not be discovered? You cannot hide from the might of the Empire.” He clenched one black-clad fist.
To his surprise, she actually took two steps closer, looking right through his tinted red lenses. “Tell me, Lord Vader. Are you so cold and bitter inside that the suffering of peoples in your jurisdiction matters nothing to you? Don’t you care about the thousands and thousands of beings, couples, families, children, who are dying all over the galaxy?” Her voice had taken on a soft, glowing fury, and she seemed to catch herself, leaning back and straightening her posture. “If the Empire won’t help them, I will. All I am doing is honouring the wishes of an old friend.” 
He pretended nothing else she’d said had even reached his ears. “Then you know of other dissenters in the Senate.”
“Now? No. But many years ago, as I’m sure you’re aware, Senator Padmé Amidala passed away.” Padmé. There was a faint tugging in his heart, as if her memory, the mere mention of her name summoned longing of some sort inside him, and he did his best to dredge up all the anger and hate he could to squash it away. “Her last message in a hologram to me was to protect the people.” Among other things, Vader deduced, observing the way she seemed to be purposefully omitting something else that Padmé had said. “Surely you would not stand in the way of friendship. Surely you would not disgrace Padmé’s memory in this way…
“Anakin.” 
It was only due to extreme effort that he didn’t jerk violently away from her. How-
“Master Kenobi paid me a visit on Coruscant the day the Republic fell,” she said, eyes glittering with savage satisfaction. “How could you. How could you betray everything you’ve ever known, everything you fought for? The Republic, the 501st, your family. Obi-Wan, the Jedi Order, Hardcase, Padmé.” She took a step closer, and he felt the temperature in the room — or just in his suit, maybe — plummeting as her voice dropped to a sharp whisper. 
“Padmé would be ashamed if she saw what you’ve become.” 
His fist tightened, something invisible crushing down around him, and as he clenched it closed, she dropped to the floor, motionless. Blinking away the red haze, he gestured to the stormtroopers standing awkwardly at the door. “Take her away.” One of them knelt, then seemed to freeze. 
“Um, she’s dead, sir.”
Anakin.
Let her go!
It seems, in your anger, you killed her. 
He pushed away the memories as the overhead lights sparked and flickered. “Then dispose of her. And burn this ship to the ground.” As we soon will destroy the Rebellion. 
But first, he had one thing to take care of. 
Master Kenobi paid me a visit the day the Republic fell. 
Obi-Wan was still alive. That meant Vader had one last loose end to tie off. 
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yeah so I don’t know how to write Vader but I hope you liked my random little snippet sjdbjdbdjd
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Hey! I love your meta’s, a little while ago you talked about The Order of the Phoenix as an organization could you talk about the Death Eaters?
The post anon is referencing.
TL;DR the Order is incompetently hilarious and Dumbledore is a man who trusts no one.
Oh, the Death Eaters, what to say about the Death Eaters...
In a World Without Voldemort, They'd Probably Be Arsonists
One of the things JKR implies in the series, and something fandom seems to take for granted, is that Tom Riddle is the ultimate corrupting influence.
Were it not for him, the Wizarding World would be a much better place, and people like Bellatrix LeStrange would be productive members of society.
As soon as he is killed, even, by Harry, the good guys win, their problems all presumably solved, and Harry tells his son Albus Severus that it's totally fine if he's put into Slytherin.
I don't believe that though.
To me, it's not so much that Tom Riddle corrupted these people, but that he gave them an organized cause. The people themselves, oh, they were itching for a fight.
In a world without Tom I think they'd be a loosely, poorly organized, group (probably with Bellatrix as the ring leader) where they commit acts of domestic terrorism probably involving burning offensive shops to the ground or attacking muggleborns, halfbloods, and blood traitors.
Voldemort, to me, is designed to pander to them (and not the other way around).
The Death Eaters' Beginnings
So, first off, I think Tom's goals are not what he says they are. What he represents to his followers is exactly what they want to hear, wrapped in a grandiose theatric bow that they just love.
But how did this all start?
First, I don't believe in the Knights of Walpurgis. Instead I think Tom came relatively out of nowhere in the 70's uses parseltongue to prove his heritage as the Heir of Slytherin and thus of purer blood than any of them.
He throws these exciting rallies/parties that the rebellious, angsty, teenage heirs all go to. There he says everything they wanted to hear in the most eloquent manner they've ever heard, promises them the action that their fathers have never delivered, promises them a role in the glorious revolution and a place in history, and probably offers them mounds of cocaine.
All the Death Eaters we see, or the core of them, appear to be in this age range where they'd be in Hogwarts or just out of it when Voldemort came knocking. I can imagine they're all whipped up with excitement, YEAH LET'S BLOW UP THE MUDBLOODS and for some that's great, for others... things don't go the way they expected.
October 31, 1981: It All Falls Apart
Regulus famously steals Tom's horcrux. I imagine it wasn't so much that he learned the error of his ways but that he saw what Tom Riddle was really after: the destruction of his very society.
Lucius is riding high until October 31, 1981 and he sees the complete destruction of the entire Black family. Lucius' priorities greatly shift and as he grows older he prays Voldemort never returns. Unfortunately, Tom does, and he charges interest.
Bellatrix absolutely loses her mind, refuses to accept reality, and tries to torture the Longbottoms for information they do not possess. She is imprisoned in Azkaban and never truly recovers from this.
Snape ends up the cause of death for Lily Evans and must forever live with the guilt and be tied to her prophesied son. He also becomes Dumbledore's lackey forever, which ultimately gets him killed.
Point being, no one's having a good time. Some because they figure out being a Death Eater wasn't all it was cracked up to be, and others because they had the Voldemort rug pulled out from under their feet when Tom Riddle disappears.
Pettigrew flees and lives as the Weasley rat for nearly fifteen years.
They're left making a mad scramble as they try to pick up the pieces of their lives.
Canon Catches Up
More than ten years go by and then suddenly, in a muggle graveyard, the surviving Death Eaters discover that they are bound to Voldemort for the rest of their lives.
Death cannot stop this man and he has branded them: there's no escape.
Some are still enthusiastic supporters of the cause: Bellatrix is vindicated that her lord has returned, he rescues her from hell on earth, and everything's finally coming up Bella. Barty is similar in actively working for Voldemort's resurrection.
Lucius, meanwhile, lives in constant terror. Karkaroff desperately flees the country and hopes Tom will not find him. Snape, is in fact, Dumbledore's agent. Pettigrew only returned in utter desperation and has now cut off his own hand.
They're not the young men they were, some of them have families, to some of the past ten years have been utterly miserable. They have to watch as their children make the same damn mistakes they did, be sucked into this same hell hole, and there's nothing they can do about it.
There is a notable reluctance for the cause, and yet, they have to try with the same vigor or this madman will kill them all.
And it's all worthless anyway: come 1998, Voldemort dies again (perhaps for real this time, who knows, Harry Potter seems to think so for whatever reason) and then they are imprisoned for their acts as Death Eaters.
And they just laugh, because how badly Lucius wishes he could go back in time and tell his eighteen-year-old self, "YOU DUMB FUCK, LEAVE NOW!"
But Do They Learn Anything?
No.
Just because we see some of them regret being Death Eaters doesn't mean they regret their beliefs. Their beliefs were fine, even blowing up people here and there, a bit gauche but fine.
But maybe following Voldemort blindly was a bad idea.
Are They More Competent Than the Order?
No.
Tom Riddle is terrifyingly competent in that he infiltrates the government with ease, has spies everywhere, and all but proclaims himself minister one day and nobody blinks.
He gains the full support of most of the wizarding world's wealthiest and prestigious families.
But he doesn't actually give these people anything to do. Because there's nothing for them to do, with them, Tom's won. He owns the Wizengamot, the Ministry, everything.
There's no need to fight. It's over, there never was a war. Society is primed to accept Tom Riddle as their ruler.
However, the likes of Bellatrix LeStrange thinks there's a glorious war on, so "uh, go out and blow up a few muggles, have fun." And the young Death Eaters (and the older ones), think they've committed this great, daring, brave, and very important act.
Tom only seems to hand out real assignments when in desperate straits or else when being particularly vindictive.
Lucius, after messing up with the diary, is told to retrieve a prophecy he is not allowed to touch in a department of the ministry he should have no access to. If he fails: Tom kills his entire family. When Lucius does fail, Tom assigns his son to assassinate an already dying Dumbledore. These aren't real tasks, though they do have the appearance of one, and consequences for failure.
Barty, Tom is forced to rely on, as he is trapped in this dying infant's body. And better Barty, someone who is truly loyal and seems fairly clever, than Peter Pettigrew who is a miserable scum bag who'd sell his grandmother for a bar of soap.
Barty, of course, fucks this up. Rather than just kidnap Harry Potter at any of the many easy points this could be done (Hogsmeade trip, lure Harry out to Hogsmeade with super secret serial information about Voldemort/Snape being a Death Eater, etc.), Barty is determined to make use of the Triwizard Tournament to destroy his father's legacy.
This means rather than a few weeks, it takes months to kidnap Harry, and even then they bring along an extra boy who then gets killed and provides some evidence that Tom Riddle has in fact returned. (Somebody murdered Cedric). It takes months and Barty actively ensuring Harry makes it through the tournament and does well, leaving open the possibility that he might get caught helping Harry cheat at any moment. And of course, Barty has to pretend to be Madeye Moody for months, keeping his man locked and drugged in his trunk.
Thankfully, Moody's such a paranoid wreck, no one even notices.
Quirrell, Tom is forced to rely on. Quirrell fucks up, though admittedly not as badly as Barty. Quirrell fails to steal the stone when it's in transit/in Gringotts. He fails to murder Harry Potter, an eleven year old boy in the world's most dangerous school. He rouses Snape's suspicion almost immediately. Then of course he doesn't get the stone. He at least gets to the room with the stone and nearly overpowers Harry and gets it had he not been mysteriously lit on fire by the power of love/Lily Evans.
The only one Tom ever really relies on by choice is Snape. Snape is charged with spying on Dumbledore and later running Hogwarts (which he fucks up).
There is only one competent man in Britain: Severus Snape. Which is, of course, why he's a double agent that Dumbledore and Tom both extensively rely on despite his being a double agent.
There's no one else.
Tom Riddle doesn't make use of the Death Eaters but given they prove themselves enthusiastically incompetent at every turn I don't blame him. Just pretend to give them something to do and hope it makes them feel important.
That's all I've got in general, you want anything else you'll have to ask for something more specific.
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winterscaptain · 3 years
Text
balancing out.
Aaron Hotchner x Fem!Reader a joyful future fic
a/n: thank you all for your patience this week! i hope you enjoy this one - a few of you have been asking for mom’s route 66 moment. here it is! i’ve got some really fun graphics comin out this weekend, so keep an eye out!
words: 3k warnings: canon typical mentions of injury and death, language
summary: “accept the things to which fate binds you, and love the people with whom fate brings you together, but do so with all your heart.” ― marcus aurelius, meditations. au!january 2021
masterlist | a joyful future masterlist | ajf faq | requests closed!
Haley’s sitting next to you when you snap to, sitting on a bench in a park. The same park, in fact, down the block from the apartment where you first lived with Aaron and Jack in 2012. 
This is the park where Jack learned to play soccer…
You have a feeling that something terrible has happened, that something isn’t right. 
“Don’t worry about that, right now,” Haley says, startling you a little. “You’re safe.” 
You look at her, finding her surprisingly aged in the time since you last saw her. “Haley? It really is you, isn’t it?”
She smiles at you. “Glad you can still recognize an angel when you see one.” There’s something behind her voice, the glints of her offbeat sense of humor you love so much. 
“Don’t be ridiculous,” you snort. “You’re not an angel.” 
She shrugs with a wry smile. “Maybe not, but then again, maybe none of us are.” 
You take a moment to look around, finding the park exactly the same as you left it. Except, you note, you’re the only people there. The playground rests empty of children, curious dogs are absent from the grounds, couples lounging in the grass are nowhere to be found.
Why here? Why now?
All at once, the memory rushes over you. 
“Aaron,” you say, struggling for breath. You cough, and something wet crawls up your throat, making you cough again. Something dark lands in spatters across Aaron’s face and the collar of his shirt. You feel the compulsion to brush it away, but one of your arms feels leaden, trapped. 
He’s crying. And talking. 
“Hang on, baby. Hang on. I’m here.”
All you can say is his name, over and over, as you reach for him with the arm . There’s blood on your hands and part of you realizes you’re dying, probably. 
“What happened?” You hear yourself sputter. 
Aaron shushes you, brushing a shaky hand over your forehead. “It’s okay. You’re fine. You’re going to be okay. I love you. I’m here. You’re gonna be just fine.”
It sounds more like he’s trying to convince himself rather than you. You don’t mind. 
Everything goes dark. 
“Haley…” You look over at her again and she grabs your arm, stemming your panic. 
She shushes you once, short. “You’re fine.” 
Tears pool in your eyes before falling down your cheeks. “I don’t want to die. I’m not ready to go. Aaron, the kids, they - ” 
“You’re not going to die,” she assures you, standing and holding her hand out to you. “You’re just spending some time with me for a little while. Is that okay?” 
Her small, concerned frown warms you, and you know she’s actually asking. There’s a kind of understanding that she’ll just go away and you’ll be left in the darkness if that’s what you want. 
It’s not. 
“Yeah,” you reply. “That’s okay.” 
“Good.” Her face brightens and you stand. She tucks your hand into the crook of her arm and the two of you begin to walk, the landscape transforming around you. 
It doesn't make a lot of sense. You seem to walk through the park, then the apartment where you lived when Isaac was a baby, then the new house in Woodbridge with the twins, then the bullpen, all the way down the block to a house you recognize as Aaron and Haley’s - the big house they bought when they moved to D.C. in ‘98. 
The house where she died. 
“I have a couple people who really want to see you,” she says, by way of explanation. “I figured it would be easiest to meet here.” 
You step up to the porch and into the house, removing your shoes out of habit. There’s no trace of the blood or broken glass from the Foyet altercation. Everything seems in place, right down to Jack’s army men neatly arranged on the living room coffee table. 
It even smells the same - the light, floral smell of Haley’s perfume and something you can only describe as Aaron winds through the house, making it feel more lived-in than any time you’d been inside it after the divorce. 
“Momma!” A little girl with dark hair streaks across the room and throws herself into your arms. 
You catch her and bring her close. She’s probably six years old, maybe a little younger. When she leans back to look at you, you’re met with Aaron’s eyes. 
The recognition is immediate and you grin at her. “Hi, baby girl.” 
She smiles back at you, a mirror image. “Auntie Haley told me you’d come to visit.” 
“Did she?” You look over at Haley, whose fondness for your daughter is open and obvious. 
It’s only fair - my fondness for her son knows no bounds. 
“Yep. Gramma’s here, too.” 
You look around, your baby girl tucking into your chest as best she can given her size. Evelyn steps in from the back porch, closes the sliding door behind her, a glass of wine in her hand just like it would be in life, and smiles at you. 
“Good afternoon, sweetheart,” she says, crossing the room to embrace you and press a kiss to your cheek. She and Haley look about the same age, maybe forty or forty-five. Her resemblance to Sean is more obvious in her youth, but Aaron’s still her own personal carbon copy. 
You relax into her arms, your daughter squished between your bodies. “Hi, Mom.” On the first inhale, the smell of her detergent washes over you and tears spring into your eyes again. “I miss you.” 
She laughs, leaning back to place one hand on your cheek and the other on your daughter’s shoulder. “I miss you, too. How are those girls? And my sweet boys?”
The thought of your family makes you smile and you attempt to push away the fear of leaving them…
Of leaving Aaron a widower again…
Stop. 
“They’re perfect.” 
Haley huffs from beside you. “Ev, can you please tell someone stubborn that dying isn’t an option here? At least, not right now?”
Evelyn smiles at you. “You’re not going to die, sweetheart. This is just a stopover point so you’re not alone. Aaron had one too, when he was in surgery a few years ago.” 
“He told me,” you say, feeling a little more confident. “He told me he talked to Haley.”
“Yeah and I reminded him it’s a good idea to pull his head out of his ass every once in a while.” 
You look over at her. “Thanks for that.” 
She snorts. “I thought he’d never ask you. It was the least I could do.” 
+++
Eventually, you end up on the back porch, sitting in the lawn chairs with the other Hotchner women. Time seems to move differently here, the golden light of the evening hours stretches far beyond what you’re used to, but it's nice. It’s not cold, not too warm, just comfortable. 
You hear the gate open and a familiar voice calls, “I thought I might find you here.” 
Standing, still keeping your little girl on your hip, you embrace Jenny with your free arm. 
Her smile is just as bright and warm as the first day you met her. Your daughter wiggles out of your grip and latches onto Jenny’s slacks. 
“Auntie Jenny, did you bring Aunt Shannon with you?” 
She shakes her head. “Not today, sweetie. Today is for your momma.” 
You take a seat on the arm of Haley’s chair and she snags her finger into your belt loop and says, “It’s almost time to go back.” 
You look back at her, a kind of forlorn feeling creeping up in your chest. “Can you come with me?” 
With a rueful little smile, she shakes her head. “No. But, I can show you something.” 
A screen sort of comes from nowhere, propped like a drive-in movie on the other side of the yard. Foyet’s there, manning the projector. You squint at him and he shoots you a salute and blows Haley a kiss. She catches it with a smile and a fond shake of her head.
By way of explanation, Haley says, “Things are a little different here. If they weren’t different here, they’d be different there.” She points at the screen and you redirect your attention. 
Time moves a little differently, but you learn that you’re watching your life unfold as if Haley hadn’t died, as if the most pivotal moment in your life with Aaron hadn’t happened at all.
You see years pass by on the screen - Foyet is eventually caught and killed (by Derek - a surprise). Haley and Jack come home. 
Aaron and Haley come to an understanding, and you make up the tripod in their odd little fitful family unit. Aaron moves back into the big house on the river - he’s never there anyways and he sleeps in the room that used to be his office when he is home. 
Emily actually dies. That one is another, rather more unpleasant, surprise. 
When you look at Haley, she tells you, “Where there is death, there will always be death, eventually. It balances out, one way or another.”
With Haley in the picture, Aaron isn’t as fearless in love as he learned to be with you, doesn’t have as much perspective. He’s riddled with self-doubt and addled with fears of disappointing her, of disappointing you.
You and Aaron dance around each other for years and years and years - it’s almost 2015 before he kisses you for the first time, almost another two years before he finally asks you out, another one before you get married, another one before you have your first child. 
Upon seeing him, you can tell he’s not Isaac. He’s a different boy, one that looks more like Aaron than you, who’s remarkably neurotypical, loud, and much scrappier than Isaac. 
Jack doesn’t call you ‘Mom’ and you’re not as close. 
Things are...wrong. 
Well, maybe not wrong, but they aren’t the same. Even with the added joy of having Haley in your lives after the fear and uncertainty, you’re acutely aware that this is the timeline that was warped in some way or another. Everything feels delayed or just off. 
You never have the twins or move into the Woodbridge house. Aaron doesn’t close the gap with Sean, who overdoses after a tumultuous battle with his addictions and demons. 
There’s a kind of smallness to that life that you don’t have in yours.
The images fade, leaving the blank screen, after what seems like an eternity spent experiencing an alternate reality that you might have wished for if you didn’t know any better. 
Haley tugs on your belt loop. “See? Couldn’t stay, can’t go back. The life you have is the best one that exists. And,” she adds with another little wry smile, “the only one you’ve got.” 
Jenny places her hand on your shoulder, your daughter still stuck to her leg like glue. “You’re not done yet.” 
“And,” Haley adds, “you have another surprise coming next year - around August.” 
At your squint, she continues with a little smile. 
“I’m not going to tell you, so you’ll have to stick around and find out.” She winks. “Thank me later.” 
When she stands, you follow Haley to the front porch. The rest follow behind you like a little band of ducklings. Even Foyet, who could be an unwelcome interloper, seems like a member of the family. Evelyn passes him a glass of iced tea when she settles in the doorway. 
It’s kind of funny, if you’re honest. 
“Aaron and Jack will be there when you wake up. Jessica has the little ones at home.” Haley holds your hands as she speaks, swinging them back and forth a little. “You’re…” She sighs, “really hurt. Like, really really hurt. You’re gonna be out of work for a little while, and your lung capacity will be pretty fucked...forever. You’ll be able to do everything, but you’ll need to take more breaks than you’re used to.” 
Your lower lip disappears into your mouth. “How’s Aaron?”
“Terrified.” 
+++
Aaron sits by your bedside holding your hand, watches the way your chest mechanically rises and falls with the ventilator. They intubated you right away to give your lung the space it needed to heal, but all he wanted was to hear your voice before they put you under, just one more time. 
It’s been a wretched three days. Your surgery seemed to stretch on forever, digging the bullet out of your chest, repairing the gunshot wound that shattered four ribs and perforated your left lung in six places. 
After surgery, you coded after your lung collapsed again due to a pulmonary embolism. That little incident sent you right back to surgery and Aaron’s blood pressure to the stratosphere. 
Since then, you’ve been stable, quiet, and, in the doctor’s words, “lucky to be alive.” 
He can still feel the blood you coughed up running over his fingers and landing on his face, the shallow heaving of your breath under his hands. 
Images of Haley and Kate and Emily flashed before his eyes as he tried to hold you together - horrible, horrible reminders. 
Would he lose you in the field, like Emily? 
Would he lose you in surgery, like Kate?
Would he be too late, like Haley? 
Selfishly, the thought of playing the part of a single parent to four young children scared the hell out of him. The twins were hardly two and a half, Isaac almost five. Jack…
He really hoped he wouldn’t have to hold Jack’s hand as he delivered another eulogy for another person he called ‘Mom.’
If he was a single parent again, he would be tasked with raising three more children who wouldn’t know their mother - wouldn’t remember you after some time. 
Just like Jack with Haley. 
He was terrified of becoming a shell of a man without you, leaving his children practically orphaned overnight. 
Sitting in the waiting room during your first surgery, he decided that he’d quit. He’d take whatever the bureau offered and quit for the sake of his children, for the sake of Jack and Isaac and Caroline and Sophia. He wouldn’t let them lose another parent to the field, to the relentless pursuit of evil. 
Now, beside you, he holds your hand and talks to you as much as he can, knowing all the while you can’t hear him. 
+++
“I love him, Haley.” 
She grins at you while Foyet rolls his eyes. “I know you do.” Pausing as if to think for a moment, she adds, “When you wake up, don’t panic. You’re intubated. It’s...” Her head wavers back and forth a little as she searches for words. “...Unnerving. And uncomfortable. But you’re tough.”  
She kisses your cheek, Evelyn and Jenny give you a hug, and Foyet kisses your hand. 
“Say hi to big man Aaron for me, will ya?” He asks. 
You snort and shake your head. “Gimme a break.”
He shrugs. “Worth a shot.” 
+++
Your eyes snap open and you see the ceiling before anything else. Remembering what Haley said, you try to ignore the deeply uncomfortable pressure in your throat, chest, and mouth as you squeeze Aaron’s hand. Jack’s asleep, his long legs curled up like a little spider in the little corner chair.
Aaron meets your eyes and immediately reaches for the call button, assuring you, “You’re alright. You’re intubated, honey. Don’t try to talk. Just a second, I promise.” 
The nurse arrives and takes care of your ventilator. You take it like a champ, mostly to avoid scaring Aaron any further. Your voice is raspy and worn when you speak. 
“Hey.” 
He takes a shaky breath. “You scared the hell out of me.” 
A little chuckle leaves you and you cough once. It hurts. “Did you think you could get rid of me that easily?”
“That easily,” he scoffs, reaching for a lidded cup of water with a straw. “Your left lung practically exploded. You think that’s easy?”
You take the cup of water, pulling small sips. It instantly soothes your throat and you latently realize you have a feeding tube winding its way up your nose and down your throat. 
That’s a problem for another time. 
“Easy enough. You were stabbed multiple times - I hardly think one-upmanship is useful here.” 
Your humor has the intended effect. His shoulders relax and he leans over, pressing a kiss to your forehead. 
“Before you ask,” you tell him, “I feel like hell.”
“Yeah I bet.” There’s a little laugh in it. 
“I saw Haley, though. And our little girl. She’s almost six now.” 
Aaron perches on the edge of your bed, still holding your hand. “Tell me about her.” 
You do, as best you can remember. Things are disappearing from your memory, but you cling to the important bits. You tell him what you saw, how life would be different if Haley had lived, the way you two talked about him, the way his daughter fits seamlessly into the lives of those they’ve lost. 
“So she’s alright.” 
You nod. “She’s perfect. Haley’s taking excellent care of her, of course.” 
“Only fair,” he says. 
“My thoughts exactly.” 
+++
You’re in and out of sleep, but eventually, they remove the feeding tube and let you sit up to eat some bland pasta with some juice. It’s the best meal you’ve had in what feels like years. 
Jack sits on your good side, tucked under your arm and drinking all your cranberry juice and showing you the new games Dave got him on his Nintendo DS. The girls sit at your feet, playing with some blocks Aaron brought them. They’re attempting to stack them on your shins to no avail. 
Isaac’s sleeping against your chest. It hurts to breathe with him there, but you don’t want him anywhere else. 
It’s Aaron’s turn to sleep. He’s got untouched files on the little table beside the chair, just as he usually does. Maybe one day he’ll give up trying to pretend to do work with one of the team hospitalized. 
Haley’s right. This is the life you’re supposed to have. 
+++
tagging: @quillvine @stxrryspencer @hurricanejjareau @ughitsbaby @rousethemouse @criminalsmarts @genevievedarcygranger @ssaic-jareau @hotchsflower @hotchslatte @risenfox @mrs-dr-reid @captain-christopher-pike @pan-pride-12 @sunshine-em @jdougl-love @dreila03 @forgottenword @aaronhotchnerr @ssa-morgan @tegggeeee @abschaffer2 @ssacandice-ray @ellyhotchner @lotties-journey-abroad @mrs-joel-pimentel-23-25 @mooneylupinblack @ssareidbby @qvid-pro-qvo @mandylove1000 @jeor @roses-and-grasses @word-scribbless @bwbatta @capricorngf @missdowntonabbey @averyhotchner @joanofarkansass @popped-weasels @evee87 @nuvoleincielo @ssahotchnerr @this-broken-band-girl @winqhster @reidtomestyles @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @the-falling-in-the-danger @crazyshannonigans @softbibxtch @iconicc @mangoberry43 @andreasworlsboring101 @kerrswriting @mac99martin @itsalwaysb33nyou @baumarvel @kerrswriting @messyhairday-me @ssworldofsw @deagibs @moonshinerbynight @jhiddles03 @teamhappyme @mendesmelodies @starsandasteroids @unicorn-bitch @ambicaos
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lunarfly · 3 years
Text
Ok so I decided to finally post the promised: defending Romione (🥺💗💕💖💞💘) against Dr*mione (ಠಿ_ಠ) shippers.
So I've read a few posts about Dr*mione shippers, talking about why their ship is amazing (which had nothing to do with canon btw) and bashing Ron (for no reason) and I'm literally shaking out of anger.
Here are my thoughts:
1. "Ron is too dumb for hermione"
Stop- Just-
Stop.
RON IS NOT DUMB.
Yes, he might not be very interested in school subjects, but 👏 that 👏 doesn't 👏 mean 👏 he 👏 is 👏 dumb 👏.
He is actually very smart! He beat McGonagall's chess game, he is logical and quick-thinking. There's MANY examples of this that I won't name right now, but it's a canonical fact. Ron. Is. Not. Dumb.
And consider he was dumb. So? Would that stop Romione from happening? NO! Hermione didn't mind Ron not being smart. She was just upset that Ron was lazy and wouldn't study anything until the last minute. She wanted to get both Harry and Ron to study according to a schedule.
Is it clear? Intelligence doesn't determine love.
**And this is something that confuses me. This doesn't have anything to do with the point, but why does nobody realize that Harry isn't much smarter than Ron? Yes, he was better at DADA but that requires TALENT, not intelligence. And I'm pretty sure we all know that Ron is talented as well (hopefully everyone realizes that). Nobody uses the fact that Harry wasn't intelligent against Harmione, but everyone uses the fact that Ron wasn't intelligent against Romione. The double standards tear apart the fandom.
2. "Ron bought hermione perfume and Draco could get her something better."
Soooo, you're saying that just because Ron didn't have the money that Draco had means that Hermione didn't deserve Ron?
Wow, this just says a lot about you dr*mione shippers. You only care about the money that Draco has, not his personality. You don't like Ron because he's poor (and I know how FanFics give the "kind Draco" Ron's canon personality so the only "problem" with Ron is his looks and lack of money). And you don't see Hermione nor Ron the way they are. This "point" of yours is literally stating that Hermione should be a gold-digger and get Draco because he can get her the expensive presents that she deserves. Yikes.
3. "Draco can understand the emotional side of Hermione while Ron can't."
Wait
What?
WHERE DO YOU GET THIS IDEA FROM-
Draco is only EVER concerned about his own self, he is a NARCISSIST. He would NEVER care for someone (let alone Hermione) as purely and truly as he cared about himself. He didn't even care about Crabbe, Goyle, Pansy Parkinson etc. He was selfish. The only reason he could express his emotions was because he had to go through a lot since he realized that killing Dumbledore wasn't as easy as bullying Hermione. This would never ever work.
And even if Ron didn't understand her as much, he STILL comforted her. Take the beginning chapters of The Deathly Hallows as an example. You'll see.
4. "Ron is too immature."
I need help.
Of course Ron was immature when he was 11!! Yes, he acted immaturely many times, yes, he made many mistakes, but guess what? He changed! He changed for Hermione!! Draco didn't change at all, not for Hermione, nor for anyone else. He remained the same bratty bully.
If you could reread the books and read prisoner of azkaban vs deathly hallows, you will definitely see how much Ron has matured. He doesn't argue with Hermione anymore, he comforts her, he's there for her. Yes, he made a mistake but he was manipulated by the horcrux! We don't blame Ginny for what tom riddle's diary made her do, do we? So stop blaming Ron!
Anyways, I think if dr*mione shippers have read the books, they'll know what I'm talking about when I say Ron changed for Hermione. I honestly don't know how you could miss Ron's character arc.
5. "Ron would be jealous of the brilliant Hermione."
What?
If I remember correctly, the reason Draco bullied the trio was because he was jealous of them. His jealousy turned into a 7 year torture for the trio and now you're saying that Ron is the jealous one? Please.
But anyways, Ron has been jealous of Harry and has made a few mistakes. But there are reasons behind them and I can defend him for each of these with arguments other than "everyone makes mistakes" (cough cough* Draco stans* cough cough).
First of all, Ron has admitted being jealous of Harry's fame because he lives with 5 older brothers who outshine him. But that's not really a mistake because he never let it get in his way. There were only 2 situations in 7 years when he left Harry out of jealousy but I think these have different explainations.
No1 Ron left in goblet of fire. I think the real reason that Ron let his jealousy get in his way this time, was not only because Harry got to participate in the tournament which could bring him eternal glory, but more likely because he was disappointed that his own best friend didn't even tell him that he was entering and didn't even help him participate (which wasn't true, but Ron thought so back then).
No2 Ron left in deathly hallows. This one was 100% because of the horcrux and I think we should all accept this by now and stop hating on Ron for being affected by dark magic.
And just like that, Ron never let his jealousy get in his way of friendships. I can't think of a situation where Ron is jealous of the brilliant Hermione so if you remember, please let me know so I can argue against it. <3
6. "Ron and Hermione would break up and remain friends, it's easy to imagine because they didn't have a strong relationship."
This was actually said, someone actually said this-
I'm just going to say that Ron and Hermione are happily married to this day (which definitely proves that their relationship is strong) and give the dr*mione community a moment of silence.
7. "Ron didn't do anything for Hermione and was just a jerk."
Coming from a person who has read and reread the books multiple times, I can assure you that Ron did many things for Hermione.
Of course, he was immature at first, he was mean to her, but slowly he started seeing more of the good in Hermione and started changing for her.
And even when he was immature, he still cared about Hermione and would protect her no matter what.
Let's remember how many times rubbish Ron stood up for Hermione against the brilliant bully Draco. 🥰
Let's remember how cowardly Ronald faced his fears of spiders to help Hermione (and the rest of the school, just how jerkier can he get?). 🥰
Let's remember how ridiculous Ronniekins stood up for Hermione against sensational Snape and got himself into detention (oh yes, this is the book version of the movie moment where Ron agrees with Snape about Hermione being an 'insufferable know-it-all'). 🥰
Let's remember how rotten Ronny comforted Hermione when she was worried about Hagrid and Buckbeak (and he even let her hug him and cry on his shoulder, how rude). 🥰
Let's remember how revolting Ronald sacrificed himself to save Harry and Hermione in the chess game. 🥰
Let's remember how horrendous Ron attempted to hex Draco when he used a slur that was meant to offend Hermione. 🥰
Keep in mind that all of these were done when Ron was still immature and still argued a lot with Hermione.
And these aren't even all.
8. "Ron and Hermione have a loveless marriage."
What the-
I'm sorry, I'm trying to be respectful here but this is crap. And the fact that the person said they also had "proof" from the c*rsed ch*ld but didn't want to spoil it-
As much as I hate the c*rsed ch*ld, I can tell you that it did its job portraying Ron and Hermione's unconditional love. Even in alternative realities, where they didn't get married, they were still in love.
And why would you even think that Ron and Hermione would marry and have kids if they didn't love each other? I need explainations.
Next.
9. "Ron never listens to Hermione."
I'm sorry, what? I'm genuinely confused??
What do you even mean by this? Yeah, they used to argue a lot, and? Ron thinks Hermione is brilliant and wonderful and he follows her advice. I can't recall a moment where Ron won't listen to Hermione, doesn't agree with her and ruins her plans. Anyone else?
Since this one is a big mess and a confusion, I'll move on to the next one until someone explains the points and arguments.
10. "Draco could make Hermione laugh while Ron couldn't."
....
Do I really need to say anything for this one?
Ron was the funniest one from the trio, that's why Harry enjoyed his company so much! Don't you remember the line in goblet of fire where Harry thinks about how much he misses having Ron as his best friend, because without him there's less fun and less laughs? I do.
But what I don't remember is finding Draco's sense of humor funny. I'm sorry but his intellectual level is almost as low as Crabbe and Goyle's. His insults are none other than Potty and Weaselbee, he only got 3 O.W.L.s and all of his jokes were stupid and dumb and their only purpose was insulting people he was jealous of.
These fanfics have rotten people's brains...😬
Anyways, I'm going to stop here. I've delayed this post for very long and I'm so excited to finally post it!
I read a book on wattpad by a dr*mione shipper and it was nothing but a giant headache. That's where I got all of these statements from. Most of the garbage in the book revolved around Draco and Hermione being inseparable and getting over all obstacles (wth) and other stupid stuff like that which really annoyed me. The book was called "why we love dr*mione" and it was by Bittenwizard. You can read and enjoy! Trust me, you'll have lots of content to post about after that 🤠👍
*I always try to be respectful to all ships, but sometimes some of them really anger me because the ships are either toxic or the arguments are plain trash. I'm sorry if I offend anyone.
Thank you for reading this. If you're a dr*mione shipper, I hope I've convinced you to give up the ship or come up with better arguments for it.
If you're an anti-dramione I hope you enjoyed the post. I'll delight you with more anti-toxic-ships content. :)
Thank you once again! <3
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sk1fanfiction · 3 years
Text
the many faces of tom riddle, part 1
-no hate (this is merely my humble opinion) but i strongly dislike tom hughes as tom riddle, and here’s why-
FULL DISCLAIMER THAT THIS IS JUST MY OPINION OF A CHARACTER WHO DOESN’T HAVE THE STRONGEST CANON CHARACTERIZATION, AND THUS ALL THIS IS BASED ON MY CONCEPTUALIZATION.
Just personally, this fancast induces a lot of cognitive dissonance for me, but this is the first time I’ve been able to sit down and articulate properly why it always throws me for a loop.
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Now, does he fit the visual/aesthetic archetype?
Yes. I understand completely why people like this fancast. We know that he is studious, intellectual, and (at the time people generally fancast him for) involved in the criminal underground, and he more-or-less fits the physical description.
And, to be clear, it’s not that I don’t think Tom Hughes could play Tom Riddle, it’s that I don’t think the character he plays in the fancasts is a close enough approximation of Tom Riddle.
For me, herein lies the issue.
Tom Riddle’s character is all about the emotions bubbling under the surface. He’s a disaster waiting to happen -- he’s angry, he’s lonely, he wants revenge, he feels empty and hopeless and desperate, he’s irrational...
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Not sure what movie/show the Tom Hughes clips come from, but the character he plays isn’t that at all. the character he plays is very self-possessed, poised, self-aware. Reflective. Remorseful (there are clips of him crying when/after he shoots someone). Introspective. 
That, to me, is not Tom Riddle at all. 
Yes, he does deal with moral conflict, but it’s never at the forefront of his mind. It’s not something he’s constantly grappling with. He doesn’t really... brood in this Hamlet-esque way.
Tom doesn’t think. Sure, he plans, he ruminates, he rationalizes a posteriori. But he’s very unaware of himself (in fact, it’s one of his fatal flaws). It’s not that he doesn’t have emotions; just that his internal state is a mystery most of the time.
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He doesn’t connect with his own emotions; he is completely estranged from them. Tom cannot tell you whether he is happy or sad (not just because of his pride). He keeps his emotions and moral compass (which are highly uncomfortable things), in a locked little box, swallows the key, and disregards them. And yet, this character connects so deeply with his emotions that even the audience can see exactly what he’s going through. 
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(There’s an openness -- an ease of vulnerability -- that Tom Riddle doesn’t have)
The thing about Tom, is that he hates himself just as much as he hates everyone around him. Creating Horcruxes to save himself from death is not an act of self-love, or even narcissism to the extreme; instead, forcibly ripping your own soul seven times is the most literally and metaphorically self-destructive thing a person could possibly do.
"Of the Horcrux, wickedest of magical inventions, we shall not speak nor give direction —"
If we go all the way back to Book 1, Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone, you’ll remember that the eponymous material (first described in the Epic of Gilgamesh) is capable of producing the Elixir of Life, a magical substance that makes its drinker immortal, as long as you have a steady supply. Not only that, but according to the beliefs of historical alchemists (such as Nicholas Flamel), it was capable of curing any disease. In the alchemical tradition, it symbolized perfection, enlightenment, and heavenly bliss.
If all Tom Riddle was concerned about was prolonging his life, this is the obvious (and better) option.
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Here’s the alchemical symbol of the Philosopher’s Stone. Looks kind of like the Deathly Hallows symbol, right? It represents the interplay of the (at the time, believed) four elements of matter -- a sort of periodic table, if you will.
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The mature Philosopher’s Stone was believed to be a red stone (for making gold), and the immature one a white stone (for making silver). Rubeus Hagrid and Albus Dumbledore, anyone??
"So he's made himself impossible to kill by murdering other people?" said Harry. "Why couldn't he make a Sorcerer's Stone, or steal one, if he was so interested in immortality?"
And Dumbledore responds:
"But there are several reasons why, I think, a Sorcerer's Stone would appeal less than Horcruxes to Lord Voldemort.”
"While the Elixir of Life does indeed extend life, it must be drunk regularly, for all eternity, if the drinker is to maintain the immortality. Therefore, Voldemort would be entirely dependent on the Elixir, and if it ran out, or was contaminated, or if the Stone was stolen, he would die just like any other man. Voldemort likes to operate alone, remember. I believe that he would have found the thought of being dependent, even on the Elixir, intolerable...”
And while, yes, he did try to steal it rather than make it, I am sure that in the time it took Tom to make all of his Horcruxes, he could have learned enough alchemy to produce it for himself (or wheedled the information out of Nicholas Flamel). While Dumbledore hypothesizes that it’s because Tom hates feeling dependent, this must be irony, because he spends the first book as a literal parasite, the next three as a virtually helpless creature, and the remainder still reliant on his Horcruxes.
"Well, you must understand that the soul is supposed to remain intact and whole. Splitting it is an act of violation, it is against nature."
But, like me, Dumbledore is making guesses at Tom Riddle’s internal state, and in this case, I think, he’s made an oversight. Horcruxes make him equally as dependent as the Philosopher’s Stone would have. It’s been established in canon that you cannot make yourself immortal without help; either you rely on the continued existence of your Horcruxes or your supply of the Elixir.
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And while the Elixir represents the positive aspects of eternal life, like renewal, rebirth, and the cyclical nature of the universe (see above the ouroboros of Cleopatra the Alchemist, one of the four women who knew how to make the philosopher's stone), a Horcrux is antithetical to life. It represents disorder, and once the creator of Horcruxes dies, they are unable to move on from Limbo -- shut out of the cycle. Harry describes Tom’s mangled soul as looking like a flayed and mutilated baby -- permanently immature and stagnant.
This theme of destruction is furthered by the Golden Trio’s discussion on how to reverse the process:
Ron: "Isn't there any way of putting yourself back together?"
Hermione: "Yes, but it would be excruciatingly painful."
Harry: "Why? How do you do it?"
Hermione: "Remorse. You've got to really feel what you've done. There’s a footnote. Apparently the pain of it can destroy you. I can’t see Voldemort attempting it somehow, can you?"
With this in mind, we can surmise that Tom is either (a) impatient, which we know he is not (b) there was some deeper reason for favouring Horcruxes -- so, yes, I believe that either metaphorically or literally, this was self-harming behaviour.
He takes on the name of Lord Voldemort because he hates himself, Tom Marvolo Riddle. He hates the Muggle part of himself so much that he’s willing to tear apart his entire being. 
"Voldemort, is my past, present, and future, Harry Potter..."
If that isn’t renouncement of himself, I don’t know what is. He was clearly not born Voldemort.
While of course, this does NOT excuse ANY of his actions, I find it vastly implausible that the likes of Malfoy, Mulciber, Carrow, etc... would have been welcoming in any way, shape or form to an assumed ‘Mudblood’ in scruffy secondhand robes from a London orphanage, and as such, indoctrinated him into his fanatic belief in blood-purity via antagonizing him. 
(Imagine Hermione, but poor and without parents, in the 1930s/40s. She would not have been treated well in Slytherin, either.)
Children are more vicious than you think. And while Tom probably gave as good as he got at Wool’s Orphanage (and was possibly an active aggressor himself), Hogwarts wouldn’t have been a level playing-field. (I’ll talk a bit about this and the significance of the Gaunt Ring in Part 2).
In other terms, I think Tom was bullied for having dubious origins. That’s often the swiftest way to radicalize someone, and would have left Tom with a crippling sense of self-hatred that I don’t think he would have even picked up from the orphanage.
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(And it’s possibly this early experience with relational aggression that results in his constant need to be on the offensive/defensive, distrust of others, and fear of vulnerability. To me, this is an archetypal response of someone who was a past victim of bullying.)
Why else would an extremely powerful half-blood subscribe so strongly to those beliefs? (Rather than discriminating via amount of raw power or something -- because what Tom is immensely proud of when Dumbledore meets him is his ability, not his parentage). But I digress.
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Now, Tom Riddle is never, ever quietly menacing like this. The mask is either completely on or completely off. We never see this character angry. Tom Riddle, when the mask slips off, is fury incarnate. Anger is the one emotion he doesn’t find weak; the one emotion he’s completely and utterly honest with.
Besides, that brings me to my next point. Tom’s not quite so austere. In fact, he’s quite witty, and often quite pleased with himself.
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Just look at the difference in their body language. Tom has much more fluidity (he’s circling Harry, the head-tilt, the eyebrows move and he smiles a bit) than the other character, who has so much tension. Yes, they’re both menacing, but in completely different ways. Tom is comfortable with his actions, no matter how shitty they are. This other guy doesn’t like doing what he’s doing, but he’s going to do it, anyway.
Contrasted with the above, Tom’s unawareness of himself is such that we end up with a character who has a bizarre mix of extreme self-hatred and high self-esteem -- he always believes he is in the right -- in this case, doing Salazar Slytherin’s noble work -- while going to extreme, self-destructive lengths, such as tearing himself in half at the mere age of sixteen.
So, sorry... I kind of get the appeal, but... I don’t like the fancast. 
(More unpopular opinions coming at 5:30 PM EDT tomorrow!)
123 notes · View notes
boys-wonder · 3 years
Text
make me feel something
Pairing: Tim Drake/Jason Todd
Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Dominant Jason Todd, Top Jason Todd, Submissive Tim Drake, Bottom Tim Drake, D/s undertones, Anal Fingering, Oral Fixation, Frotting, Anal Sex, Emotional Sex, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, I think?, Biting
Desc:   "Everything is just so.. empty. I can't feel anything anymore, Jay, not since.." he trails off, but resists the urge to look away. Jason's eyes are dark and unreadable, boring into his and he couldn't look away if he tried. But he doesn't want to, he wants, no, needs Jason to know. Jason doesn't flinch at the mention of his death, just keeps staring expectantly. Tim looks up at him from under those thick lashes, parting his mouth further to let Jason map his tongue with a gloved finger. It's intimate and erotic and controlling in a way that Tim knows he needs, he knows that only Jason can give him this. "Make me feel something, Jay."
Word Count: 4138
Ao3 Link: Here
- - -
The cold night air whips around him, the chill cutting into his skin with the sharpness of a knife, tousling his hair forcefully as he drives. But he couldn’t bring himself to care. By all points, Tim should be buzzing with anxiety right now. He hasn't seen Jason since… that night. He grits his teeth at the memory and revs the engine, hoping to leave the morbid thoughts on the empty highway behind him. Of course, it doesn't work; Tim still has nightmares about it. He's never spoken about that night to anyone. In fact, he's actually not sure that the others even know he was there. But everyone knows how Tim feels about Jason.
It was after an unfortunate series of long, difficult missions that Tim finally decided to see Jason for the first time since the newly-declared outlaw made his way back to Gotham after his resurrection. Tim had been waiting, hoping that Jason would come see him, or even Bruce. Just some sort of arrival, anything to let them know he's alive. But it's still been nearly a year - 10 months and two weeks, not that Tim's counting - and this week has been so fucking hard. 
So he changes into civvies, not even bothering to wash off the grime and blood from the mission he just got back from, and tells Alfred he's going out. The butler nods knowingly, but the sympathy in his eyes makes Tim's face burn hot with - anger? shame? He's not sure. But he avoids Alfred's gaze, dipping past him to get his bike from the garage and make his way into Gotham.
Jason met Tim many years ago, when he was still working under Bruce's tutelage as Robin. The two had connected instantly; Tim's inappropriate fascination (or maybe a more fitting word would be devotion) with Jason (and Dick, and Bruce) which manifested in a bit of stalking, along with Jason's need to have something stable in his life. To have something normal and just his to ground him, and having someone look at him like that- look at him, not Dick, not Bruce, but him. They collided with explosive force, orbiting one another like twin stars, pulling each other along by sheer force of gravity. 
Until Jay’s star blinked out. 
Tim takes a hand off the handlebar and hits himself in the thigh a few times. The dull ache brought him back to focus on reality and clearing out the unpleasant memories. 
It takes no time at all to break into Jay's flat - seriously, was he even trying? - and he flips the lights on, shutting the door behind him with a soft click. There's really no need to be stealthy; he wants Jay to know he's here.
He pads into the living room, looking around. Tim was expecting… he's not sure, maybe more like his safehouse when he was on the streets? But no, Jay had got himself a pretty decent place. There's a simple brown sofa, resting against the wall, and on either side are expensive looking speakers, which Tim now sees are plugged into an old record player. Tim smiles faintly; it's good to see something about Jason was still the same.
Tim sets the needle down on the record with familiar ease, relaxing visibly as the record begins to play. 
With the music thrumming through him, he lets himself explore more of Jason's apartment, though he's not quite brave enough to go into the bedroom. He admires the few pieces of artwork that are strewn around the place, their presence in Jay's life bringing him a comfort he didn't realize he needed. 
The lock in the door clicks, and it swings open slowly. Tim doesn't turn around, just rubs the petals of a baby succulent that he found sitting on the windowsill. His heart should be pounding in his chest, but it's not. He feels a complete calm wash over him. He feels Jason's eyes on him, but he's not in any hurry to break the silence. Jay waited almost a year to say anything to any of them. Tim may be in love, but he's also stubborn. He's not going to give Jason an easy out.
Jason takes his time to acknowledge Tim - that is to say he doesn't - he just walks past him to pull a bottle out of the liquor cabinet - which he keeps well stocked, Tim notes - and pours himself a glass. Tim makes a soft noise of surprise when he sees Jay set out a second glass, and pours a fifth of whiskey into that as well. Tim thinks maybe he imagines the way Jason's fingers tighten around the glass before picking it up, but it makes his pulse kick up anyway. 
Now it's Jason's turn to be observed. Tim doesn't bother hiding the way he looks over every inch of the man in front of him, from the scuffed combat boots to the knife holstered at his hip to the way his jacket is bunched up around his elbows, exposing well built forearms. They're riddled with scars, Tim notices, and he looks each one over carefully, trying to map each one like pages in a book he hasn't been able to read in decades. 
If Jason is bothered by Tim's discerning stare, he doesn't say anything, but then considering how they met… it's not something Tim expects Jason is ever going to complain about. He roves his eyes over those broad shoulders, making note of how they got even broader in their time apart, how it makes his jacket cling to him in ways it didn't before. 
Tim's eyes lift to the back of Jay's neck now, and if he wants to let himself think he sees Jay stand up a little straighter, then well, he thinks he's entitled to that. The nape of his neck is scarred too, and his hair is buzzed short at the bottom, fading into a shaggy mop of black hair that manages somehow to also look so inviting it's unfair.
Jason keeps his back to Tim as he downs his shot of whiskey, and god, Tim can't help the scramble of heat that unfurls in his gut when he hears Jay rumble out a low, satisfied noise that seemed to charge the very air around them. Tim's been hard since the older man walked in the room, if he's being honest, and he has a suspicion it's the same for Jason.
Jay grabs the second glass, agile, scarred fingers rubbing around the lip of it like a caress and, oh - he's turning around and before Tim even knows it, their eyes are locked. Jason's eyes are dark, appraising him and Tim just can't breathe, god - there's a tinge of bright green around the pupils, that wasn't there before. But even further than that, Tim sees the heat in them, and it has him snatching the glass out of Jason's hand and tossing it back, the warmth chasing down his throat all the way to his core, where it ignites the already smoldering embers there, creating a quickly spreading wildfire.
Tim swallows, pinned in place with the intensity of Jason's gaze, and then those dark eyes dip down and back up, a smirk playing on the outlaw's lips as he clocks the motion. The younger man almost forgets himself, opening his mouth to speak, but he shuts it and just stares. He's drinking in every inch of Jason's face, the small lump on his nose from where it was recently broken in a fight, the J that still looks fresh as the day it was given to him, some scars across his cheeks and another that cut into the corner of his mouth. Years of pent up devotion, of adoration, of fierce and unyielding love covered Tim's entire expression, his entire being, and for a minute, Tim could convince himself that everything was perfectly normal, like Jay had never left. 
But then something shifts, the tension between them driving up again as Jason takes a single gloved finger and uses it to tilt Tim's chin up. His eyes are still dark, the heat still there, but tenderness too and Tim inhales sharply, allowing himself to be moved. Jay looks at him intently for several long moments, and Tim's heart is thudding in his chest. 
"You look tired, Timmy," Jason says, his voice soft and low and just a little bit sensual, and that has Tim's stomach twisting in knots. 
"I am tired, Jay," Tim replies, leaning his cheek ever so slightly into Jason's grip, and his breath catches again when the finger on his chin is replaced with a hand framing his jaw, thumb brushing against his lower lip. It's intimate and tender in a way that Tim isn't sure Jason had learned how to be, before, and it makes his cheeks warm despite himself. 
"What are you doing here, Tim?"
If anyone else had asked him that, in this situation, he'd punch them. But he knows Jay. He's asking what happened to bring him here tonight, when he's been back for 10 months and their paths haven't crossed yet. 
He parts his lips to speak, and Jason brushes the pad of his gloved thumb over the tip of Tim's tongue, and well, sue him if he makes a soft, needy noise at that.
"Everything is just so.. empty. I can't feel anything anymore, Jay, not since.." he trails off, but resists the urge to look away. Jason's eyes are dark and unreadable, boring into his and he couldn't look away if he tried. But he doesn't want to, he wants, no, needs Jason to know. Jason doesn't flinch at the mention of his death, just keeps staring expectantly. Tim looks up at him from under those thick lashes, parting his mouth further to let Jason map his tongue with a gloved finger. It's intimate and erotic and controlling in a way that Tim knows he needs, he knows that only Jason can give him this. "Make me feel something, Jay." 
"I'm not the same as I was before, Tim," Jason says, still rubbing his thumb over Tim's tongue. If Tim didn't know Jason the way he does, he would have taken that as a rejection, but he can tell Jason is mulling it over. 
"I know, Jay. Neither am I." 
Jason grips Tim's chin firmly at that, searching intensely for something in Tim's eyes. Tim isn't sure what, but after several long seconds, he nods. Tim's heart leaps into his throat, but before he has time to even think, Jay's fingers are in his mouth, mapping his tongue, his teeth, and god, Tim just groans. 
Jason makes an appreciative noise and presses further, pressing his fingers down into Tim's throat, and the younger man's cock throbs as he gags around them. There's something unspeakably intimate about sucking Jason's fingers through the gloves, Tim thinks as he wraps his lips around leather-clad fingers, eyes never wavering from Jason's dark gaze. He can taste the sweat and dirt and just a little bit of blood and the thrill of it rushes through him with force, causing him to shudder as Jason's fingers brush against the back of his throat and his cock throbs painfully, leaking steadily into his underwear. 
"Good boy," Jason purrs, and it's everything Tim has been waiting to hear again since that night, and somehow Jason knows and god, Tim's head is just spinning as Jason presses a third finger into his mouth alongside the other two, stretching his throat in a way that would be uncomfortable if Tim didn't need it so fucking bad.
A whine rattles out of Tim's chest as Jason grips him by the throat, fingers still stuffed in his mouth, and pulls him down with him to settle on the sofa, with Tim perched in his lap like a prize. 
They don't talk for long minutes that seem to drag into hours, Jason's fingers fucking slowly into Tim's mouth while he uses his free hand to rock their hips together slowly.
"That's right, babybird, just let me take care of you," Jason murmurs into Tim's ear, and he isn't sure how the older man can make something like that sound dangerous, but fuck, he does, and Tim whines again, hips jerking up roughly against Jason's. It earns him a quiet groan, and his whole body feels like it's on fire just from that, but then - oh, god - Jason's fingers aren't in his mouth anymore, they're pressing against his entrance and - oh shit - he's not even sure how Jay got his hand into his pants, but he doesn't bother contemplating because then Jay slides two fingers in and holy fuck.
It burns, fuck, but it's exactly what Tim needs and he sags into Jason, whining in his ear while those fingers press slowly deeper, stretching him open and oh my god it's good.  Jason's fingers are so fucking deep inside him, thrusting slowly but still not gently, and the friction and the burn is making Tim more than a little incoherent. 
Jason mouths at his neck, and Tim keens, baring his throat in a gesture of submission that comes so naturally it would be startling if it wasn't Jay. He's rewarded with a deep groan pulled from somewhere deep in Jason's chest, and then Tim is crying out sharply, jerking his hips back into the older man's fingers as his teeth sink into Tim's slender neck.
"Oh god, Jay," Tim whines, clenching around the fingers inside him as Jason's teeth meet briefly between the flesh in his mouth, and Tim knows he hasn't broken the skin but god he needs him to, he needs it. Almost like Jay can sense his thoughts, he growls around the mouthful of Tim's neck and bites down harder, teeth penetrating skin as he fucks his fingers into the younger boy at a faster, rougher pace that has Tim screaming.
"Fuck, baby," Jason groans, dragging his tongue around the circumference of the bite, and oh god it aches in exactly the right way, and the combination of the filthiness of the action with the endearment on Jay's lips, the one Tim never thought he would be able to hear again, sends him hurtling over the edge so alarmingly fast he forgets how to breathe. 
His spine goes taut, he's arched into Jason like a bow and his thighs are quivering so badly that Jay puts a hand on one to steady him as he spills into his pants, screaming Jason's name. Jason coaxes him through that orgasm and right into another one, fingers pressing hard and fast into that spot deep inside him that makes every nerve in his body light up like a forest fire. This time Tim comes so hard he can't even scream, he just gasps wetly into Jason's chest as he digs his fingers into the supple leather of the older man's jacket and yanks, just trying to steady himself. 
Tim lays like that on Jason's chest for a long time, muscles trembling as Jay rubs his back with the most gentleness he's shown Tim that night. Jay presses soft kisses into Tim's hair, and the younger man nuzzles back into the affection. 
When he finally feels capable of speech, he pulls back and gives Jay his signature troublemaker smirk and says, "What, is that all?"
Jason laughs and shakes his head, carefully pulling his fingers free and he strips his gloves before picking Tim up, carrying him bridal-style into the bedroom. 
"Not by a long shot, princess, don't you worry."
Tim could literally care less about checking out Jay's bedroom, because the second he's placed on the bed Jason is on him, pinning his delicate little wrists over his head with one hand while he slots himself between Tim's legs and grinds. It's absolutely filthy, and even though he just came, Tim can feel himself getting hard again. His head falls back onto the mattress and he whines, trying to tug his arms free to wrap them around Jay's neck before he realizes, and - oh - white hot need has him arching off the bed and pressing into Jason's body.
"Fuck, baby, look at you," Jason breathes, voice rough and Tim's eyes flutter open to meet his gaze, his mouth falling open in a soft 'o' as he sees that piercing blue and green have been completely obliterated by black lust. "You look so fucking beautiful like this, Timmy." 
Tim whines again and Jason's there, licking into his mouth and it's everything he needs and not nearly enough all at once, and god somehow Jason knows that too because his hand is around Tim's throat, squeezing as he sucks on the younger man's tongue. It's their first kiss since before, and it's fucking filthy and it's fucking perfect. 
Jason's hips are grinding roughly into Tim's and it almost hurts because he's oversensitive from coming but he thinks he might actually die if Jason stops. Just then, Jason does stop, and Tim lets out a pitiful keen. 
"Hey hey, patience babybird, I gotta get you undressed," Jason laughs as he climbs to his knees, pulling Tim roughly down the bed with him with a hand on each ankle. The sudden movement makes Tim yelp in surprise, and he would have laughed if Jason hadn't already removed his sweatpants and wasn't already digging his teeth into Tim's ankle. 
"Oh, fuck, Jay," Tim pants out, looking up with heavy-lidded eyes as Jason sucks a dark bruise onto the inner divot of his ankle. "Jay please, fuck, I need you inside me right now."
Jason swears, movements stilling for just a heartbeat before he reaches down and pulls Tim's boxers off. There's no time for Tim to get embarrassed about being so exposed, not that he's ever really been shy about nudity, because Jason is slinging Tim's legs over his shoulders and pushing in - when did he even get his dick out of his pants? - and Tim loses the ability to breathe. 
The last time they did this, they were both still awkward teenagers, not quite fitting into their bodies, still having growing to do. Now, Jason's cock is so thick as it presses its way inside him that tears start to form at the corners of Tim's eyes. 
"Holy shit, baby," Jason grunts, kissing Tim's other ankle and Tim whines in response, not able to think about anything else except for the way he can feel Jason's cock stretching him out with each centimeter as it buries itself inside him. By the time Jay is fully seated, they're both trembling, and Jay's forehead is wrinkled with effort - presumably from holding back.
"Jay," Tim whines, rolling his hips up, and oh fuck it burns so much that he chokes out a gasp. 
"Timmy, baby," Jason says in response, and starts moving. 
"Oh," Tim says, his mouth falling open, and Jason brushes his thumb across the younger man's lower lip. 
"Yeah, princess, just like that, open up for me baby," Jay groans, thrusting his hips a little harder and Tim whines so loudly that Jason wraps a hand around his throat. "Shh, baby, it's okay. Just let me take care of you like you need." 
Jason sets a rough but slow rhythm, leaving open mouthed kisses across Tim's ankles as he fucks Tim open with almost brutal precision. Each thrust hits the same spot, going further and deeper, and it's driving Tim crazy in all the right ways. Every time Jason slams into him, he screams, the sound muffled by the hand wrapped around his throat and squeezing. Tim's head is fuzzy, and he feels like he's both less and more aware of the rough stretch of Jason's cock inside him around the heavy press of Jason's fingers pinching his arteries. 
Tim is staring up slack-jawed at Jason, just watching him in awe. He takes the time now to memorize every expression, every sound, because now he knows that any time might be the last time, and he doesn't know what this means for them but he knows that Jason wouldn't do this without meaning it, not with him. 
Jason's eyes flick up to his from where they were fixated on his cock disappearing inside of Tim, and he smirks at him. Tim is just about to try and slap his arm when Jason changes the angle again and holy shit - 
"Oh yeah, babybird? Right there?"
Tim makes a strangled noise that's somewhere between a sob and a scream as Jason starts drilling into him, right into that spot over and over and he's not sure when he started crying but the tears won't stop streaming down his face and he really can't find it in him to care because he needs it, he needs Jason to see him bare like this, to know all of the pain and hurt and loss and to see how much he still needs him. 
Jason is between his thighs pounding into him like he's never needed to do anything else more in his life, and still it's not enough. He's still got his fucking mask on - not the red one, no - he's still keeping a part of himself secret from Tim. 
"Jason," Tim croaks out, and those dark eyes are boring into his again and it's closer, but not enough, not nearly enough. "Let me see you," he says, twining their fingers together. "Please."
Jason freezes for a moment, realizing he's been caught, and Tim can see the internal struggle play over his face like a teleprompter. He licks his lips and waits, and then he sees it. The shift is almost imperceptible at first but then it's more and more clear as Jason lets the mask fall away, stops pretending. 
He can see now, why Jason was keeping the mask up. And god, he loves him. He sees into the heart of Jason now, and it's ugly and terrifying and it's the most beautiful thing Tim's ever seen, and he chokes out a pleading, "Jason," needing everything Jay had been holding back.
"Tim," Jay groans, only it's almost a growl, and he puts his full weight on Tim's body and starts rutting into him like it's the last time he's ever going to get to do this, - or maybe it's the first - and his thrusts are so rough that they occasionally scoot Tim up the bed a couple of inches, but neither of them care. Tim is clinging to him, crying and rambling and Jason has his face buried in Tim's neck, growling and grunting and murmuring sweet nothings right in between angry ramblings, and finally - oh god - it's finally exactly what Tim needed, what they both needed all along and Tim is coming, his toes curling as his heels dig into the bed. 
He tightens around Jason's cock and comes between them, making Jason's shirt sticky but who fucking cares, who cares because Jason is drilling into him and oh, my god, he's coming inside. Jason groans low and deep, riding out the orgasm as he humps between Tim's legs and Tim just whines and stutters out his name over and over, so high on Jason that his eyes are glassy, his whole world narrowed to this, to him.
Jason finally slows to a stop and buries his face in Tim's neck, pressing soft open mouthed kisses there that Tim would try to return if he could move. 
"I'm sorry," Jason says, his voice quiet with grief and regret, and Tim knows he's not talking about what just happened, but about that night. He kisses the shell of Tim's ear and whispers, "I'm sorry," and this one Tim knows is for ten months and two weeks. But he doesn't need an apology. He knows now, he understands why Jason stayed away so long. 
"I'll never stop loving you, no matter how ugly or twisted you get. You're still Jason. You're my Jason." 
Tim feels Jason relax at that, sagging into him with such fierce relief that tears prick the corners of his eyes again.  
"Love you so much, Timmy," Jason mumbles into Tim's hair, and rolls them onto their sides, half-heartedly covering them with a bedsheet before wrapping an arm - when did his arms get so big? - around Tim's middle, pulling the younger man firmly into his chest. "So much," he mumbles, and Tim laughs quietly as he realizes that Jason is falling asleep around him. But, he's not much better off; between the mission just hours before, the tension between them, and the emotional catharsis of.. well, everything that just happened, his eyes were getting too heavy to keep open. 
He nuzzles into Jason's arm and lets himself be dragged into sleep, knowing that finally, finally he wouldn't have to wake up without Jason again.
- - -
Thanks so much for reading! If you liked this work, please reblog, and if you’re feeling generous, please go to ao3 and leave a comment, or drop one off in my inbox here!
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firelord-boomerang · 4 years
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Canon Divergence JetKo AU because you know Jet and Zuko are disasters but i love them:
Zuko finds out what the Dai Li are doing to prisoners in Lake Logai and decides to save Jet from their clutches because even though he tried to kill him, no one deserved brainwashing and torture. 
Zuko suits up as the Blue Spirit and decides to infiltrate the prison. 
Jet is surprised and kind of not so lucid when Zuko finds him. He is confused when a stranger tries to bust him out.
On the way to out from Jet’s cell, Zuko also finds and frees Appa in the process as a side quest because why not. He doesn’t have time to think about why Appa was there and the Avatar because he literally has a very injured Jet on his back who won’t stop trying to tug his mask off.
Anyway, Zuko carries Jet, who is struggling the whole way because who is this guy in a mysterious mask helping me escape? Is this a trap? hey fuck you, guy! also, if you’re a good guy thank you and I owe you my life. wanna kiss later if we survive?
Along the way, Zuko’s mask gets knocked off and Jet sees a glimpse of Zuko’s face and then passes out because he can’t really deal with everything right now, brain shutting off. bye.
Zuko brings Jet back home and Uncle Iroh says “this isn’t exactly what I expected when i told you you can bring people around the apartment”
So, Iroh and Zuko try to tend to a wounded Jet making tea and keeping him comfortable. Only for Zuko to fall into his own angst coma because he realized he let Appa go in favor of saving a guy who tried to kill him so that’s nice.
Jet wakes up and is understandably freaked out because did that shit really happen? holy fuck? he can’t trust the Earth Kingdom and the a fire bender just saved his life? This ordeal is doing a lot of damage to poor Jet’s mental well being.
He sees Zuko all laid up and is suddenly guilty because oh shit what did I do to him? and then angry at himself because why does he feel sorry for a fire bender? then confused because that fire bender saved his life? then angry again because that fire bender was the reason he got locked up in the process? then self-anger because they weren’t really doing anything wrong and his weeks of stalking proved that. then, finally, acceptance that this Lee or whatever his name is, is a good person.
Uncle Iroh is on the sidelines super relieved that he doesn’t have two angst riddled teenagers anymore and can focus on the one he signed up for.
Jet is shy about helping at first then becomes really protective when a day goes by and Zuko still hasn’t woken up.
Zuko wakes up to Jet poking his face and telling him to “hey get over it, wake up. dont make me feel even sorrier for you and mad at myself, hey, hey Lee, or whoever you are, hey”
He yells a little because who likes being woken up through poking and taunts? They have a screaming match which the neighbors just attribute to teenagers being dramatic and oh how passionate young love is.
Uncle Iroh interrupts with some nice calming tea and tells them to sit down and make nice.
They do and they reach a truce. Jet asks Zuko his real name and in exchange Jet tells him his story. Zuko also tells Jet how he got his scar and they’re opening up to each other. They reach an understanding and slowly develop a friendship.
Iroh is so happy his nephew made a friend and elated that the friend is no longer trying to get them killed.
Zuko and Jet develop a friendship which then develops into a romance while they try to make new lives in the Earth Kingdom.
Jet takes Zuko out on dates because fun and also awkward Zuko is so freaking cute ! And Zuko secretly keeps gifting Jet items he definitely did not steal and Jet doesn’t know what to do with himself because awww.
Everything goes the same, Zuko gets captured by Azula and the Dai Li. But instead of just asking the gang, Jet goes off and finds Zuko on his own.
Cue awkward reunion of Jet and Katara plus Zuko (Katara’s ex-enemy and Jet’s new boyfriend). Can meeting the exes get weirder? Yes, it can!
The Avatar busts in and everything goes to shit because Azula suddenly comes up.
Aang fights off the Dai Li and the usual chaos ensues. Azula tries to persuade Zuko to join her side but Jet springs into action and attacks.
Aang still gets injured and Iroh sacrifices himself so that the rest of them can escape.
Then, everything that happen in the Western Air Temple but like with a lot of Jet and Zuko moments in between. The end.
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lara635kookie · 3 years
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Ranking the best The 39 Clues books(First season because the other ones just aren't canon in my mind).
SPOILER ALERT!
If you're a Clue Hunter and is reading this post, when you finish it reblog it and do your ranking of The First Season books(please I need to know I'm not alone on this fandom)(Please someone tell me I didn't get to this fandom too late). Also this is only my opinion. If you think different feel free to share your thoughts(respectly). So let's go:
My Personal Favorites:
10-Beyond The Grave(Book Four written by Jude Watson):
Honestly this book is overall good and I really wanted to go Egypt but that's only in this place because Ian and Natalie don't show up in person, they're only mentioned by Amy and Dan sometimes. It may seem like a stupid reason but Ian and Natalie were the biggest enemies of Amy and Dan, arch-enemies since the two understand themselves by person and their appearances have always been so iconic, the chases, the talks, the fights, the teasing so the fact they weren't in this book just didn't feel right. The Cahills and the Kabras have a lot of chemistry, both as enemies and as much something more(if you get me, lovers cough cough), and the Kabras have been sorely missed in this book(at least by me).
9-The Emperor's Code(Book Eight written by Gordon Korman):
I don't know compared to the other ones, this one just look kinda forgettable. Maybe because Amy and Dan spend a good part of this book apart. But of course the story has its good moments which are when Dan gives an autograph for a girl (D. Cahill is priceless), when Dan tells the Wizards that he is a Madrigal (as we say in Brazil: Iconic, Memorable and Timeless) (Dan was very amazing in this book, if you disagree, disagree in silence) and when Amy saves Ian(aka Love of her life) from falling off Mount Everest.
8-The Viper's Nest(Book Seven written by Peter Lerangis):
I love that one but the other ones are just better. I like the ending with Isabel(and everyone) thinking that the Clue was Diamond and It wasn't. I also like the scenes with Kurt because I wanted Ian to meet him and Kurt make Ian jealous of Amy(don't judge my dreams). Another thing that I really like is the history. I really like studying history and I learnt so much about Shaka Zulu. And was also with that book that I realized that Isabel had arrived to stay and that she would be the Main Villain in the end somehow. Maybe That's another reason why I don't like much The Emperor's Code:Isabel didn't show up and I thought she would appear in all the other books after In Too Deep. Natalie on Storm Warning said that Isabel didn't trust Ian and her to handle the Hunt without Isabel anymore since Russia so that just doesn't make sense. Maybe she didn't appearead to give Cora Wizard the spotlight but anyway let's continue.
7-The Black Circle(Book Five written by Patrick Carman):
I love this one so much. Probably because in this book we see that Ian is also in love with Amy. On Book three he seemed to like her but then he and Natalie let Amy, Dan and Alistair locked on the cave and we only see Amy Side of this story. Her sadness. But we didn't know if Ian was sorry, if he regreted his actions. And when they come back on this book we see Ian still likes Amy and the fandom goes crazy. I mean even if you are a Jamy/Carian shipper or shipps another shipp you probably shipped Amyan before because they were the only promising couple on the series(at least on series one). Back to the book I Love The Holts defeating the Kabras and Amy and Dan doing an Alliance with Hamilton(Dan envying Hamilton for driving a Kamaz will be Forever iconic). Also this book was when I realized Irina wasn't bad. I didn't like her in the other books and I didn't notice much of her but everything changed on this book and I started to love her. * sad sigh * Moving on!
6-The Maze of Bones(Book One written by Rick Riordan):
Uncle Rick(we call him like that on Brazil, in portuguese is Tio Rick) did a really great job on this one. For a series that has several authors writing, the beginning is very important and it is a great responsibility for the first author because those who will write later have to understand what you wanted to convey in the beginning to make a coherent continuation. Rick Riordan did it flawlessly. We can identify ourselves in the characters and we get really connected to the plot, the history, the riddles about Benjamin Franklin and after finishing the book we wanna know more about what happens next. So Rick Riordan absolutely slayed this introduction and no one can tell me otherwise.
5-One False Note(Book Two written by Gordon Korman):
This book is just unforgivable. I love this with all my soul. Probably because It talks about Mozart and his history and I really love arts. Also because the writing of this book is so satisfactory and so well done. I mean I really thought Fidelio Racco was a real person. What I also love about that book is the fact that every character get to shine. Amy and Dan are the Main characters but the appearences of all the other characters are really remarkable so yeah That's it. Deserves this spot on the Top 5 for sure.
4-In Too Deep(Book Six written by Jude Watson):
Going now to the four horsemen of the apocalypse from the best books of The 39 Clues. In Too Deep It's just something so perfect It's inexplicable. Something I don't like much about In Too Deep is that when Isabel was fighting to Irina and Ian and Natalie were watching Natalie was like:Irina is going to get Shoot on the head, That's gonna be so good. Like she wanted Isabel to do this, like she would be disappointed if she didn't, like she was used to seeing this type of thing. Then, In Storm Warning she was soft like:Not blood. It's so repulsive(several authors series problem but the series is good anyway). About that book I love the start, I love the middle, I love the apex and If It wasn't for Irina's death in the end this would probably be even higher than already is. Why Irina, Jude? Also:Why Pony? Why Erasmus? Why McIntyre? Why Alistair? Why Lester? Why Natalie? Why Evan? Why everyone? Why not Jake or Cara? Back to the story Jude Watson is Just a genius for transforming a dream(or a nightmare) in Isabel Kabra and adding her to the book. I don't wanna cry today so I'm just going for the next one.
3-The Sword Thief(Book Three written by Peter Lerangis):
If this book was a part The Plastics of Mean Girls, The Sword Thief would be Karen Smith of The 39 Clues, because let's face it:Amy and Dan were really dumb of accepting an alliance with Alistair and the Kabras. Principally with the Kabras. I mean they already were kinda used to temporary alliances with Alistair but not Ian and Natalie but they should have expected that It would have been bad on the end. I mean yes they needed Ian's coin to open the cave to find the clue but they look so surprised when Ian and Natalie leaves them on the cave and they shouldn't because that was obvious that they were going to betray them in the final. So they should have accepted the alliance but being more distant to the Kabras and preparing themselves in case they try something(which was obvious they would). But at the same time, I'm glad they didn't because AMYAN IS JUST MY ENTIRE LIFE(And even a little bit of Danatalie this book is Just a masterpiece). Just like In Too Deep, I love everything about that book, except the end. And I am a Kpop fan(not the cringe obssessed type) and I really like to study about North and South Korea and their history but South Korea's caves just left me depressed. I'm gonna cry so let's change the subject.
2-Storm Warning(Book Nine written by Linda Sue Park):
I love everything about this book. Literally everything. The start, the middle, the apex and the end. I love this book mainly because Natalie got the spotlight that she deserved. I don't know why I like Natalie so much since the start. Maybe because when I started Reading the books I was eleven, just like her. And Maybe because she was pretty, rich, savage and sassy wich I always wanted to be. But there is something more that I don't know how to explain that is really relatable about Natalie even with my reality being too different from hers and this book was the confirmation I needed that Natalie would be my favorite character Forever. I Also like it because it happened on Bahamas and Jamaica(two places I really want to go in the future) and It got a lot of revelations and twists in the end(wich I love more than everything on a book). If Storm Warning was a person and slapped my face I would probably say:Thanks, Could you do that again?
1-Into The Gauntlet(Book Ten written by Margaret Peterson Haddix):
I usually don't like the endings of books because I'm sad that it's over and as all the other books were good I usually demand a lot from the endings, even more than the beginnings (for me the final impression is the one that stays, not the first). I generally like the endings but I've never looked at a ending book and said: This one overcomes all the other books. I normally like more the start or the middle books. But man Into The Gauntlet caught me off guard. DoD is already a trash ending, comparing to Into The Gauntlet, DoD(fanfiction-forced-canon) seems even worse(if That's even possible). Everything about that book It's just top-notch, high quality, god tier, flawlessly perfect. Stan Haddix. We believe in Into The Gauntlet Supremacy.
It's going to have a part 2. Bye.
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literary-spirit · 3 years
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Bonnie Bennett believed she'd finally discovered her good enough ending. Yet, like most things in her life good enough goes left and leaves her with another ending. Or, perhaps a fire beginning...Journey with everyone's favorite Bennett Witch to the Viking Era for much needed lessons in devotion, courtesy the Lothbrok brothers.
Disclaimer: Unfortunately, none of these characters belong to me. And to add unfairness to poetic injustice, neither does the shows or the books. However, I still intend to pull the characters' strings and make them dance, all while having a ball upsetting canon plot lines!
AN: Alright Bennett Fandom this one here is a bit different from what you're used to. Okay this one here is a bit different than I'm used to. Francesca has recently rediscovered Vikings and with it the sons of Ragnar. And don't you know she wouldn't rest until she brought our favorite Bennett Witch into their mess! As if our girl didn't already have her own problems. SMFH! So thanks to my lovely muse, here we are with a whole lot of trifling savagery that I'm just not so sure about. But as always I'll let you be the judge if this WIP lives to see another update. Flame it or acclaim it in comments.
“You know as much as I’ve savored the joy of tormenting you over the years-,” Klaus began.
“No,” Bonnie shook her head. She’d tried to go along with his final request. Really she did, but how could she? When in the end all he’d be was gone. “I’m sorry, bae. We’re not doing this.”
Rebekah’s eyes rolled. She released a drawn out exhale that hadn’t been necessary for her since wood ash and pointed stick tattoos were a thing. “Bonnie, don’t ruin this for him! Permit him whatever comfort he demands. He shoulders a burden you’d never be able to fathom. Can you not allow him to experience but one moment of grace? A moment Hope will undoubtedly cling to after he’s gone.”
“No, Rebekah! I’m not about to listen as the man I love gives us all a corny goodbye and pretend to be okay with it. And why the hell should Hope have a moment to cling to when she could have her father?” She gave her head another firm shake. “No, this is not okay with me,” her voice rose as she drilled visual holes through each of them. Klaus tried to shut her down with an arm around the shoulders but she curved him with a shrug, all while committing ocular homicide on him in the process. “So why the hell is it okay with you, Hybrid?” Her scorn riddled gaze darted from him back to his so called family. “Or any of you?”
“You must’ve been down on Bourbon sipping on that Absinthe again if you believe any of this shit is okay with us,” Marcel waved her off barely sparing her a glance. “We all just know Klaus is gonna do whatever Klaus wants no matter how any of us feels about it. The most dangerous place you can be when his mind’s made up is in his way. So I suggest you step out of it.”
Her neck snapped back as if she’d taken a two piece to the chin. “You think I’m afraid of the big bad wolf? I wasn’t at seventeen and if I thought for a second it would save him, I’d put his ass back in the dirt again. I take care of my own, Marcel. No matter the dangers or consequences,” she jabbed a thumb at her hybrid, “And make no mistake, that Original pain in the ass over there is mine.”
“Cute.” Marcel laughed as he rubbed at the corners of his mouth. “Bonnie, we’re his family. Each of us have known, feared, hated, respected, and loved him long before even your parents’ parents became an idea. Hell, even after everything he’s dragged me through, there’s not a drop of blood I wouldn’t bleed for him.”
“Then stand behind those words and do something, Marcel,” she pleaded, because at this point she wasn’t above begging for the only bright spot remaining in the dim bleakness that had become her life seven years before.
“What would you have us do, Bonnie?” Elijah questioned in a barely engaged tone.
Bonnie turned to consider him. A perpetual moroseness now cloaked the one she’d once believed to be noble. His arrogance hadn’t been quite the same since the restoration of his memories. More and more he’d begun to remind her of Finn. She squared her shoulders and straightened her spine. Since discovering what Klaus planned to do, she’d toyed with an idea she’d vowed never to indulge. Yet, under the weight of impossible desperation such vows could not stand.
“The eternal witch spell should be evoked,” she said.
“By whom?” Kol questioned. His chocolate browns moved from Freya to Hope. When both appeared to know less than him his disbelieving gawk returned to her. “You?!” Laughter burst from his mouth. “Oh Darling, I’ve witnessed that spell make a supernatural mess of the most talented witches to ever recite a chant. There’s only one destined to master the eternal witch incantation and her sorcery is said to be unmatched.” His knowing gaze drifted to Hope, and then back to her. “There’s no way you’re powerful enough to undertake the task. You’re not even the strongest witch on this block.”
Bonnie flinched. Damn it, if Kol hadn’t DOA’ed her pride. When the hell did he jump on the Bennett hate train? To hear how far his opinion of her plummeted sort of burned.
She nodded. “Okay, if not me why not Davina. You tend to enjoy blowing her horn. If she’s all you claim her to be, get her here. I’ll happily bow down if her being greater than me will save him.” She jerked her head in Klaus’ direction.
“No!” Marcel barked.
“Leave my wife out of this.” Kol zipped across the distance separating them to tower over her. His original face no longer concealed by his human deception.
Klaus rocketed forward to place himself between she and Kol. “Step away from my fiancé, baby brother. For if you harm her then you’ll be joining me in the afterlife. To hell with your bloody dagger and box.”
Ignoring Kol’s and Klaus’ dagger and the box bit, her distressed stare collided with Freya’s. “What about you? Will you help me save your brother?”
“Bonnie, that spell is much too dangerous. Even for me.” The blondes eyes offered her a thousand apologies but not one solution. “I’m sorry, but I can’t risk it…not now.”
Her desperation bottomed out to despair as her gaze took a hail Mary launch to the supposedly most powerful witch in the room. “Hope?”
The room erupted. You’d think she’d offered the girl a crack pipe. When she was Hope’s age she was taking down well…her dad.
“Bonnie!” Elijah yelled.
“This is madness,” Rebekah growled, taking a step in their direction. “Nik tell her!”
“We’ve already talked about this, Bekah.” Marcel shook his head and tugged Rebekah back to his side. “That doesn’t concern us.” Bonnie heard Marcel mutter.
Klaus spun away from Kol to regard her. He grabbed her face and cradled her cheeks in his palms. “Everything’s going to be alright, Love.” He whispered, before brushing his lips against hers. Liquid pain disturbed the stillness of his crystal blue stare and contradicted the hell out of his reassurance.
“How?” She tugged herself free of his grasp. “How’s everything going to be alright? You’ll be dead and then what? Life goes on? Fuck that! I’m not about to stand here and mourn a defeat I haven’t loss yet!” She whirled away and marched from the gathering. Her decision made.
Once out of sight, she hurried towards their bedroom. Inside, she closed the door and locked it. The barrier wouldn’t hold her hybrid, but the fraction of time it would provide may be all she needed to complete the spell. She fell to her knees next to the mattress. Carefully, she tugged the blanket from underneath the bed. The already prepared altar and ingredients slid out. She stared down at the athamae and exhaled. Second thoughts plagued her mental, but she shook them away. She’d come this far already. The time to bitch up and forget about it had come and gone. Now was the time to do and die, literally.
She picked up the dagger and called forth every ounce of mystical energy which bled through her veins. A swell of Bennett sorcery overwhelmed the room. Pictures rattled on the walls. The balcony doors blew open and the glass shattered. Furniture not nailed down whipped about the room like she’d caught a ride in a tornado. Steeling her nerves, she continued. She called forth her psychic energy, her huntress energy. Any and everything supernatural about her she offered to the Goddess of all in exchange for an eternity of knowledge and the fated eternal mate destined to help her defeat the Hollow.
After relinquishing her all to the Creator she sliced open her palm. Blood gushed from the wound and saturated the ingredients. A searing light illuminated the room. The bargain was struck and accepted. Now the sacrifice. She swallowed and raised the blade. Aiming it at the center of her chest, she closed her eyes.
“Bonnie, no!” Klaus’ voice penetrated the white noise blaring throughout the room. “Love, don’t do this. You won’t survive.”
She opened her eyes. He stood just beyond the enchantment circle, attempting to force his way into the barrier. “Neither will you if I don’t. Besides, if it doesn’t work I’d rather be in the ground anyway than breathe without you, Klaus.”
“Bonnie, please,” he pled as he dropped to his knees. He slammed his fist against the barrier. “Please, don’t do this. We’ll find another way. You have my word, Love!”
A sad smile flirted with her lips. “You’re lying, Klaus. If there was another way then it would already be the plan.” She plunged the blade into the cradle of her breasts. A piercing burn penetrated her chest.
“No!” Klaus’ bellow seared layers from her punctured heart. The storm of mystical energy whipping about ceased.
Her knees buckled. Klaus caught her before the ground could and cuddled her close. She attempted to talk, but a wheeze whistled pass her lips instead.
“No, Love, don’t speak.” He bit into his wrist and placed the bleeding extremity to her mouth. His blood might as well had been battery acid because she’d bet dollars to air it burned the same. Hacking coughs damn near shook her frame apart by the joints. “Why the sodding hell isn’t this working?”
“I-It’s the s-spell,” she managed to utter. “M-my death is the p-price of a-admission.”
Tears trickled from his eyes onto her face. “Why did I have to go and love you, Little Witch?” He demanded, looking beyond confused.
“B-Because its what we b-both needed at the time and no m-matter how this turns out I’ll always be indebted to you for giving me a reason. L-Love you, Hybrid…always and f-forever.” His face faded until nothing but darkness surrounded her.
Chapter 1
Disclaimer: Unfortunately, none of these characters belong to me. And to add unfairness to poetic injustice, neither does the shows or the books. However, I still intend to pull the characters' strings and make them dance, all while having a ball upsetting canon plot lines!
The abyss gave way to blinding lights. Bonnie squeezed her eyes shut. A cacophony of sounds battered her auditory senses. The eardrum rupturing racket nearly distracted her from the violent rocking motion. A violent rocking motion which would no doubt wrought absolute fuckery on her cyclic vomiting syndrome. Right along with the tang of salt-water, unwashed bodies, and rotten fish. The potpourri of funk came close to singeing the lining of her nostrils.
A familiar acrid burn tickled the back of her throat. On cue her belly spun a series of gold medal winning somersaults. Oh this was going to happen. Her lack of sight heightened her senses and made her that much more sensitive to all the upchuck factors swirling about her. Unable to continue to live in the darkest part of her denial and remain vomit free, she opened her eyes. The brightest day she'd ever had to tolerate greeted her light discriminating gaze. She closed her eyes once more. What in the extreme fuck? Was this some kind of hell dimension? Is that why she was only a five minute drive away from the damn sun? Oh Goddess no!
"Cade?!" She growled.
The acrid burn that flirted with the back of her throat developed a sour chunky consistency. Once again she forced her eyes open...and blinked. She was on a vessel that appeared to have hailed straight out of Vikings. Damning the unnecessary brightness and her afterlife in general, she turned and tossed up the entire contents of her stomach over the boats edge. The seafood gumbo from Rousseau's she loved nearly as much as Klaus shot from her mouth and floated one way while the wind and Hades' cruiser sailed her in another.
As gravity took her down exhaustion fucked her over. She rested her cheek on the boat's wooden ledge. Drops of putrid salt water splashed her face. Yet, her fucks to give was at a negative zero low. Not only was she dead, but more than likely so was Klaus. She'd failed him...she'd failed them. Not even eternity would be long enough to make that shit okay.
Bonnie's vision blurred. Her chest throbbed. She clawed at the pounding ache between her breasts. Goddess, it's a wonder her chest didn't have a gaping hole in it after everything her heart had lost. Shaking her latest failure from her thoughts, she turned to slouch back to the boat's floor. She then lifted her gaze to assess her surroundings. Various shades of irises gawked back at her. She froze. Oh damn! Just her luck the water was sacred. She opened her mouth to offer an apology, but snapped it closed. Wait...why the hell did everyone look like extras from the Last Kingdom?
Slowly, her gaze dropped from the filthy hairy men towering over her to what she wore. The burlap sack dress she donned stopped her ever ticking clock. And based on the breeze cooling her cakes, her La Perla's had opted to skip the journey to the other side. Her back teeth clenched. In what kind of after life had she been dropped? Was this some kind of Viking hell? Had she somehow been granted eternity with Klaus in his hereafter?
The shifting of bodies snaked her attention from Kanye's spring wear to the now parting beefy men. A sight which had her questioning her sanity emerged. Bjorn Lothbrok or at any rate the actor who portrayed him in Vikings. Was he dead and stuck on the Otherside also? Wait, was Alexander Ludwig even supernatural?
"You're not one of the slaves who was captured during the raid. One of your hue, I would've remembered." The head Viking in charge edge that resonated in Bjorn's or Alexander's voice snatched her from her contemplations. "How've you come to be upon this ship?" When she opened her mouth to speak the cold sharpened point of a sword pierced the hollow of her throat. "Speak to me of canards or sagas and I shall open your gullet."
She hesitated for a moment. What could she say? The truth would definitely get her neck split wide. "I-I'm not sure. Before...when I closed my eyes, I was somewhere else and now that I've opened them, I'm..." she glanced from the horror frozen faces of the crewmen to the beyond frightened slaves. The poor shackled souls huddled away from her in the ship crevices and corners on either side of her. She swallowed and allowed her gaze to return to Bjorn. "I'm here."
"Oh my god," she heard one of the slaves mutter in a tone that, to her surprise, sounded annoyed?
His scoff sliced the disbelief inspired silence in half. He withdrew the biting tip of his sword from her throat and sheathed it in the scabbard at his side. "Bind her hands to her feet and toss her over."
The ship erupted in a flurry of movement. Two overfed red-haired and even redder faced Viking men moved to grab her. She nearly projectile vomited her heart from her mouth.
"I know what I'm saying sounds apeshit, but I swear on everything I love, Alexander," she said slowly uttering the name and searching his face for a flare of recognition. When nothing sparked in his expression she stammered on, "I-I'm telling the truth. Please, you have to believe me, Bjorn!" A flicker of curiosity narrowed his glare. Bingo! "You can't let them kill me! Please, I don't wanna die again!"
"Halt!" He bellowed, raising a hand to stop the men from advancing, "How've you come to know of my name?"
Shit! She pressed her lips together as her mind flipped through a too short list of plausible explanations that wouldn't get her burned at a stake for witchcraft. "I-I've dreamt of you a-and of this moment." There, that didn't sound too bad. One thing she'd learned from Klaus, watching Vikings, and Google, is ancient Northman actually revered oracles and seers.
"You've dreamt of me?" He knelt before her, arresting her stare with a penetratingly incandescent blue gaze. At a deliberate methodical pace, his eyes crept over her face. Her lungs threatened to collapse under the thorough scrutiny. "Of this moment?" Unable to look anywhere other than in the irises that burned brighter than the now blazing sun, her head bobbed. A smile enticed the corners of his mouth. "Then why fear what you know will follow? Have you not prepared well to meet your fate?"
"Not if my fate resides at the bottom of the ocean," she said with a firm shake of the head, "That's an introduction I'd like to cur—avoid indefinitely."
His head tilted just so as he continued to regard her. "Name yourself."
"Bonnie Bennett," she answered.
A golden brow lifted. "Bonnie Bennett of where?"
"New-M-Mystic Falls...Bonnie Bennett of Mystic Falls."
"I have never heard of a land with such a name," he huddled a bit closer to her, "in which direction does your homeland lie?"
Before she could answer, thick gun metal gray clouds rolled across the azure sky and swallowed the glaring sun. A sonic boom exploded somewhere in the distance, while blue streaks of lightening zigzagged its way through the stodgy swirls of gloom. And if the situation wasn't already atom splitting serious, fat drops of rain and hail the size of golf balls began to pelt them.
"This storm is unnatural!" A seaman yelled.
"What in the name of Odin will become of us? None of us shall discover the gates of Valhalla at the bottom of the sea!" A ruddy face old man with a scraggly beard roared at anyone who appeared to be listening.
Another much younger seaman, maybe a little older than herself, turned an anxious stare on Bjorn. "Do you believe the All Father has forsaken us, Ironside?"
Bjorn opened his mouth to answer but was cut off by a blonde slave girl who pointed a finger in her direction, "It's her! Her very presence displeases the gods. You should heave her over and pray the sacrifice appeases them."
"You sound dumb as hell! It's no wonder you're in chains," Bonnie snapped, regretting her words as soon as they left her lips. Stupidity had nothing to do with forced captivity. Yet, that bitch had some damn nerve.
"No one will be heaving anyone over," Bjorn said, while standing from his crouch, "Raise the sails and provide the slaves with pails so they may began dumping water from the ship's floor."
A surge of magic thickened the air. The foreign sorcery incited something within her. Something unfamiliar. A bucket was pushed in her face. She took the wooden pail without looking away from the sea. The very stench of alien witchery agitated her own strange mystical energy. The fiery heat of her somehow altered super charged power practically scorched the inner lining of her veins as it raced through her vessels. Who would dare interrupt the supernatural and natural balance on this scale without justification? It was like using a heat seeking missile to take out a mosquito. Un-fucking-called for!
Instead of allowing the now aggressive powers within her the retribution it sought, she settled just to keep the occupants on the ship safe. So, while she dumped water from the boat's floor, she chanted under her breath. Soon, a protective shield formed around them in an elusive form of the previous sunny day. The Vikings and slaves alike erupted in praises to Odin.
"Yep," Bonnie forced a smile. "Praise Odin!"
"Come, Mystical One," Bjorn stood over her, his shadow casting her much needed shade.
Distrust and her impromptu guest starring role on a show which highlighted the fact that Vikings had no problems raping captives, raised her guards. Though realms out of her element, she was far from ignorant.
Her gaze moved over him in an attempt to size him up. "Where?"
"To the prow," He gestured towards the front of the ship before snatching the pail from her hands, and then tossing it aside. "I wish to learn more about you and this numinous land named Mystic Falls." When she took too long to follow he locked his hands behind his back and considered her. "If I wanted to lie with you then all I need do is have you. Do you believe anyone here would be minded to protect you?"
She lifted her chin as she glanced about the ship to see not one person watching them for concern purposes. Every eye she caught on them looked to be pre-historic Shade Room and TMZ reporters. If they had tea kettles back then they'd no doubt be ready to spill the damn things. No, Bjorn spoke the truth. No one on that confoundingly long boat would lift a calloused palm to help her.
"Alright." Exhaling, she stood and leveled him with a glare even a PMS'ing demon would be incapable of exacting. "But fair warning, no one on this ship can protect me better than me. And make no mistake, I'm not above defending my own honor."
He reached out and took her hand in his. "That is a certainty about you of which I'll never be mistaken, Bonnie Bennett of Mystic Falls."
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please tell us more about co-archivists au 👉👈 i am very excited to hear your essay
BLESS UR HEART ANON I was NOT expecting anyone to actually read my tags <3
ANYWAY, thanks so much for asking and here are my vaguely comprehensive ideas for co-archivist AU here we go (it’s gonna get pretty long so I’m putting it under a cut lol)
Seasons 1+2 would probably go pretty much the same - Elias still chooses Jon alone as archivist and canon proceeds as is up until Infestation. Sasha still gets Not-Them’d but she doesn’t cease to exist, instead ending up trapped in some liminal space. She was already strongly tied to Beholding  and so is able to be claimed by the Eye to escape the Stranger (think Mike Crew getting claimed by the Vast to escape the Spiral) which allows her to break out of the clutches of the Not-Them. Meanwhile, in the tunnels, Leitner tries to trap the Not-Them with the Buried book and instead the thing is psychically ripped apart from the inside out, the memories of Real Sasha are instantly airdropped back into everyone’s brains, Sasha wakes up in a pile of broken table fragments, and gets the hell out of there.
From there, the start of s3 is pretty much the same for Jon (he and Leitner decide that the book had some sort of unforeseen adverse affect on the Not-Them that exploded it somehow) - he flees the institute after finding Leitner’s body, hides out with Georgie, and so on. Everyone assumes Sasha’s dead, except for Elias, obviously, who Knows not only is she alive, but she’s well on her way to becoming an Archivist. (He’s not going to do anything about it - sure, it’s more moving parts than he was counting on, but a backup Archivist could prove useful if something were to happen to Jon. Plus he’s already got a bet going with Peter over which of them will make it to the end.)
Sasha, consumed by the beholding-typical hunger for information, seeks out The Distortion - Michael helped her that one time, after all. She gets hints of usefulness from him (though he insists on using 80-word-long names for all the entities) but mostly he speaks in riddles and is generally frustrating. I’m also gonna say they have a Jude Perry handshake moment except instead of boiling wax it’s knife hands because I love parallels.
She leaves the Spiral with a vague understanding that entities are a thing and starts basically throwing herself into situations fitting their various motifs and hoping for an encounter. One of them seems related to heights? Guess she’s going skydiving. (I stand by my headcanon that Sasha is at least as if not more impulsive than Jon. In s1 while he was like “well I guess I’ll keep an eye out for more statements about Prentiss and hopefully get more information” she went straight to “I personally am gonna hunt down this nightmare worm monster! How dangerous can she be she’s only killed like 5 people that we know of + I’m too curious to leave it alone!” I mean seriously.) While this is a great way to accumulate a lot of Marks for herself, it’s not a great way to find out anything useful. Plus she’s nearly gotten herself killed a bunch of times, so clearly she needs a new approach.
She goes to find Michael again but instead finds Helen, who’s much more inclined to be helpful. She fills Sasha in about how Jon’s also going Archivist, and gives her a door to find him. Sasha steps through the door and emerges in a clearing in the woods where Daisy’s just about to slit Jon’s throat.
Suffice it to say, when a yellow door appears from nothing in the middle of the woods and dead-for-a-year Sasha James steps out of it, Daisy is very surprised. The resulting altercation leaves Sasha marked by the Hunt but the situation calms down after the arrival of Basira who points out that, when facing Elias, surely two avatars are better than one.
Events of s3 from there on play out basically like they do in canon except this time the archivist’s not alone, which helps with the whole “turning into an avatar” identity crisis. Don’t get me wrong, they’re both still freaking out, but they’re freaking out TOGETHER so it’s not as bad. It’s nice to have someone to talk to about weird Beholding stuff, especially when they literally share your brainwaves. (I’d imagine there are a lot of moments when everyone’s just sitting around resolutely doing no work when both Sasha and Jon abruptly stand up, point to each other, and yell some random thing that means absolutely nothing to anyone else but them because Beholding just airdropped them some knowledge. Also since the archivist power is split between the two of them, when they go into Statement mode they end up speaking in unison, Sasha’s right eye and Jon’s left both glowing. It’s very creepy for anyone watching.)
Then comes the Unknowing, and Tim blows up, but instead of dying like in canon, he gets pulled back into the realm of the Stranger along with the rest of the Unknowing and trapped there. When Jon and Sasha wake up from their twin comas, Basira tells them he’s dead, but Sasha realizes that somehow she Knows he’s not. With Jon’s help she uses Beholding (all-seeing) to break into the realm of the Stranger (concealment) and pull him out, and later Jon does the same for Martin in the Lonely.
And in the end, yes, they both end up marked by all the entities, and the world still ends, and things are still pretty bad. But at least they have all four of them (the og archive team) to deal with it. And at least, when Jon needs to info dump about cursed beholding information, he can talk to Sasha. And at least, when Martin would really like some company that isn’t someone possessed by an omnipotent eyeball god, he can talk to Tim. Which I think would help with morale if nothing else. 
(Thanks for sticking to the end of all that lol - I meant it when i said i had a lot of thoughts) 
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Describe what would happen if Lily (from "Lily and the Art of Being Sisyphus") suddenly found herself in cannon Harry Potter world in the middle of his fifth year? Oh, and she can't bullshit herself out of this one for some reason, instead she stays there for a month or two while Rabbit, Lenin, and Trotsky somehow join forces and try to find a way to bring her back. Bonus points if Lily crashes a DA meeting and kicks some peoples butts anticlimactically.
Oh boy, that I’m sure would go so well for all involved. In the middle, you say? Alright, let’s do this thing. For my sanity I’m going to pretend this taking place in an up to date version of “Lily and the Art of Being Sisyphus” as of chapter 7-whatever we’re on right now.
So, there’s a couple of different ways that Lily can arrive. There’s a few obvious ones that stick out to me.
First, it just somehow happens. Reality’s falling apart in Lily’s own dimension and two seconds away from collapse. Rabbit’s floating around as these things called dementors, eating Umbridge, speaking English all the time, shit’s going down. It’s not all that out of the realm of possibility that Lily accidentally falls into a wormhole which deposits her in canon land.
Second, someone summons Lily. Now, this could either be team good (hooray) or team bad (boo hiss). Lily, being a being of unspeakable power but fairly neutral alignment, could easily be summoned by both. That said, I’m not really sure who to blame the summoning on.
The obvious choice is Harry, because Harry is stupid enough to summon a god to the mortal realm to slay Voldemort and Hermione’s smart enough to figure out how to do that for him. Go omnipotent creature, kill that evil snake man! However, we’re inserting Lily into canon directly, which means no short cuts of Harry having the dumbest idea he’s never had. Otherwise it’s not so much that the Order’s smart enough to know this is a bad idea but that such an idea would never actually occur to them. It says a lot that Dumbledore only ever gives tasks of any importance to Snape, the Order is kind of just... Harry’s glorified babysitters and taxi service.
So Harry and or the Order isn’t summoning Lily to solve all their problems for them. Good on them, smart choice.
Now, what about the Death Eaters and Voldemort?
With the Death Eaters we have a similar problem as the Order. Such an idea would never occur to them or if it would then they’re smart enough to say “NOOOOOOOOOO”. That said, if it ever did, oh Bellatrix would be so down. But only if the being worshipped at the altar of Voldemort’s wonderful... Voldemortness. Whatever it is she sees in him. 
Voldemort it depends where you lean on his characterization. We don’t actually see that much of him in canon, barely even hear from him, and we mostly hear about him from a variety of dubious sources (either people who have no idea what they’re even talking about or else Dumbledore who tells Harry this information while actively grooming Harry to kill himself). I’ve seen people characterize canon Voldemort as having once been brilliant but currently mad, as being mad and yet also brilliant despite his many failures, as not mad at all and his schemes are just so intelligent, so brilliant, that none of us can follow them and they all seem to end in failure, and there’s always what I think which we won’t discuss because I look bonkers enough on the internet.
Insane Voldemort might think it’s a great idea to summon some unknown god to stomp all over his enemies. I’m not exactly partial to cookoo bannanas Voldemort but honestly, it’s either him, Lily stumbling through a wormhole, or random kids chanting Bloody Mary in a mirror three times and out comes Lily.
Right, I wasted a lot of paragraphs on that.
Anyways, in the greatest scheme known to man, while Lucius is trying and failing to get that prophecy, Voldemort unearths some ancient text to summon an unknown god. A power that is unknown to mankind. So, I imagine Lily is summoned into canon much like that scene in Ghostbusters where the Sumerian god descends from the heavens. Glowing gate out of nothingness, fog machines, maybe a little less glitter and spandex, and instead Lily having no idea what the hell is even happening.
Lily, realizes she’s in deep shit as she notices Bellatrix prostrated on the ground in worship (of Voldemort of course, not Lily, Lily is just a deity and is nothing compared to the magnificence of the dark lord) as well as the various other Death Eaters all either looking terrified or in mindless awe of their lord’s amazing power. Lily feels like she’s entered Twin Peaks as she eventually is able to put together that the lisping snake man is supposed to be Wizard Lenin/Tom Riddle.  Lily and Voldemort probably have tea or something, but as he’s crazy bananas in this version per my own convenience and he looks like something that eats children, it doesn’t go well and Lily gets increasingly weirded out and convinced she’s in some sort of parallel hell reality that comes about when Rabbit eats the entire goddamn universe. So much like someone in a surreal horror movie, Lily flees into the night and goes to Hogwarts to see what madness is there. At first, she’s confused, as Hogwarts looks... mostly Hogwartsy. There are some differences. Umbridge is still alive and apparently torturing all the children as opposed to just Lily. The dementors are gone and apparently Black has now been on the run for years. Default doesn’t exist, instead Hermione Granger is still happily in Gryffindor with Luna Lovegood sorted into Ravenclaw. The biggest marker that everything has changed is that Ellie Potter appears to have been replaced by Harry Potter: A boy who looks oddly like Uncle Death. Now, Lily knows that Death is an alternate reality’s version of her, but this guy doesn’t act anything like him or sound anything like him. Not even a much younger, amnesiac, version. Death... plays quidditch. What is this? Lily tries to return home but is blocked, realizing this means that the Rabbit explanation is more likely, and in Hogwarts decides to see if she can resurrect something of the world she knows out of this monstrosity or at least see where Wizard Lenin ended up. Rabbit, missing in action, should certainly be hunted down.
Lily decides that her best bet is to tail this Harry Potter, who might be the result of whatever happens when Ellie Potter (the persona) is digested. So, Lily cons her way into being a student, joins Gryffindor, and tries and fails to get into Harry’s friend group. First, though she’s older than the thirteen-year-old she’s pretending to be in her original story thanks to time travel, she doesn’t look fifteen yet either. Second, no one just injects themselves into the Golden Trio.
Still, Lily tries and while Ron thinks she’s damn weird and Hermione finds her suspicious, Lily earns herself a billion bonus points by figuring out that all she has to say is, “Oh gee, Harry, I believe you that this bloke named Cedric Diggory was murdered and Voldemort is back from the dead. It’s so awful the Prophet is calling you a liar now have you happened to see a fellow with white hair, black eyes, might be a rabbit? No? Well, do let me know when you do, because he’s late for a very important date.”
Unfortunately, even being close to Harry, there’s no sign of Rabbit but Lily starts getting pulled into Harry’s woes. She hears about his detention with Umbridge (laughs awkwardly as she remembers what happened to Umbridge in her world), hears about quidditch being cancelled (Lily could care less but pretends to be sympathetic, yes Rabbit-eaten Ellie, it is awful that quidditch is cancelled), hears about Dumbledore ghosting Harry (Lily unimpressed as this is what Dumbledore does), and hears about Voldemort’s mysterious actions of mystery involving glowing orbs.
Lily drops that she doesn’t exactly think Lord Voldemort’s a man with a plan here but that’s not what the gang wants to hear so reluctantly, and unprompted, Lily promises to look into it. 
In the meantime Lily attends one DA session, turns it into horrifying dodgeball where the children are traumatized forever (because the patronus, Harry, really? That the grand self defense method against dark wizards we’re going to teach these people. No, no, we have to teach ‘duck or die’. You duck, or you die!) and is politely kicked out by Hermione who reminds Harry that he’s the one who should be teaching self defense and not terrifying transfer students who appear out of nowhere.
So Lily goes to fetch the prophecy instead. Having bullshit abilities and being secretly Harry Potter, in a way, herself she’s able to collect it and hears the thing. She remembers hearing this from her own dimension but decides to give it some more thought, then some more thought, then even more thought. She probably spends half a day trying to decide if this means Lily is secretly a zombie or Harry is the manifestation of her being secretly a zombie because ‘neither can live while the other survives’. Like all of us, Lily eventually decides prophecies are stupid, heads back home, and delivers the thing to Harry who is even less able to understand it than she is. Lily tells him that it probably means he’s a zombie, congratulations buddy, glad that’s been working out for you.
Meanwhile, as Lucius no doubt flips shit that the prophecy is simply gone, Voldemort starts taking action. He sends “I know where you live” letters to Lily at Hogwarts which promise doom and destruction and even more doom. Lily finds the idea of doom squared alarming. So, Lily decides to do what she does best, she sics one Tom Riddle on another Tom Riddle. What could go wrong? Lily asks Harry if he’s ever seen a diary with the name “Tom M. Riddle” on the inside cover. Harry flips shit and Lily has to talk fast to get him out of believing she’s the devil. When he tells her that Trotsky was murdered in perhaps the most hilarious manner possible in this world (a very true Rabbity end for him) she nearly gives up when impossibly she catches another hint of Tom Riddle in the air. She follows it to the source, the old Default Common room, and finds a very pretty tiara that Tom Riddle stuffed himself into.
Lily wakes him up in a very jarring manner, tells him that the other Tom Riddle is out there being Voldemort while he’s stuck here in a sad little crown, and tells him that it’s clearly his right to go beat the shit out of Voldemort to take what’s his and never bother Lily again. Tom is very, very, very confused. Instead of doing that he decides he’s going to stick around Hogwarts. That was not in Lily’s plan.
Forced, to hide his identity, Lily introduces him with the good old Albanian refugee trick. Only, without the excuse of A.L.F or Quirrell getting mauled by vampires that just sounds weirder than usual. Lily then backtracks and announces that Voldemort burned down his rural Welsh village (That’s right Umbridge, Voldemort is alive and burning down villages! I will take that detention, thank you!) Mot Elddir here is a true hero for surviving such an awful event and should be placed in Gryffindor now.
Harry is dumb enough though that meeting Tom Riddle face to face, even with blonde hair, Harry can’t quite recognize him though there’s something familiar with this chap. Dumbledore is not that stupid and starts gagging in horror at the staff table and has his suspicions of this Lily girl being a Death Eater/Voldemort himself confirmed. Dumbledore confronts Lily, Lily plays hilariously dumb, “What Death Eaters, people who eat death? Never heard of it, sounds contagious.” Dumbledore confronts Mot Elddir who just finds this all hilarious and has decided that Lily is his new favorite thing that he’s kidnapping as soon as he discovers what he wants to do with his life. He tells Dumbledore this is the best thing since Christmas, and yes he has many many evil schemes involving all the children (he has none).  Voldemort instructs Snape to poison Lily, and while Snape feels a pang of conscience at murdering children, Dumbledore gives the go ahead in that they’ll send Lily to the hospital wing where perhaps they can then give her veritiserum and get some answers about what the hell Voldemort is up to. Well, Lily gets poisoned and realizes that she has so many enemies now that she honestly can’t tell if it’s Dumbledore (who is her enemy for her having blatantly released Tom Riddle) or Voldemort (who is her enemy because... she’s not actually sure why for that just that she maybe didn’t burn down London). Being Lily, she doesn’t die or is sent to the hospital wing, and just kills herself to wash the poison out. Snape is horrified and astounded that the girl appears perfectly fine. He’s even more horrified as he hears news of what he missed out on while at Hogwarts, Voldemort summoned some great power into this world and rumor has it that it’s loose at Hogwarts.
Lily talks to her newest Tom friend and tells him that if he’s going to stick around he should help her find out who just murdered her and all that. She doesn’t like being murdered, while dying’s alright, somehow being murdered makes it all that much more unpleasant. New Tom is not very sympathetic and notes that he’s here for his entertainment, not preventing her from being murdered. He just spent the past several decades as a crown, give him a break.
Dumbledore decides that time’s up, time to put Harry to the test. Unfortunately, Harry takes this as a moment to go “Welly well well, look who finally has time for Harry Potter? Finally has time to tell him a prophecy HE COULD HAVE TOLD HIM ABOUT YEARS AGO!” So, Harry destroys his office. After Harry has his Tommy Wiseau temper tantrum (I can’t imagine it any other way), Dumbledore tries to tell Harry that his new friend (who was so kind to fetch him that prophecy, impossibly, from the department of mysteries) is likely some eldritch abomination summoned by Voldemort from another world. Harry alone can defeat her.
Harry at first is angry and disbelieving. Dumbledore notes that Harry must have noticed that dear Mot is really just Tom Riddle going blonde. Harry is speechless, but it’s all true, and he desperately points out that Tom could have done something to Lily. Dumbledore notes that Lily was weird before Tom showed up, hasn’t Harry wondered why Lily doesn’t ever seem to need a wand? Ever? 
Harry is horrified and leaves in a daze. On returning to Gryffindor he confronts Lily and asks her some of what Dumbledore asks him. Lily badly tries to pretend she had no idea Mot was evil incarnate, “Tom Riddle? What? No. No! There’s no way that Dear Mot could possibly be Tom” but has no excuses for why she’s so unbelievably talented. Lily decides to just go for it and explains to Harry that this world isn’t even real, it’s a cheap reflection of what reality used to be, that an extradimensional creature other than her has devoured them all and this thing is the result. Lily’s not sure she can fix it, but she can at least try to find the thing that did this to them.
This is enough confirmation for Harry and, fueled by betrayal, he demands a duel with her. Lily notes she doesn’t want to duel but Harry insists. Rather than do it, she runs away, grabs Tom and notes they’re leaving Hogwarts now. Only, outside of Hogwarts protection, she and Tom are easily tracked down and picked up by Death Eaters.
Tom is vaguely embarrassed by the whole get up, as Lily points out how and why it’s ridiculous, while Voldemort probably circles the pair of them and gives some very menacing lisping speech of evil. Lily points out that this is not her fault, Voldemort’s just weird and Lily kind of likes London, she feels no need to stomp on it. 
Before Lily’s forced to kill Voldemort, Rabbit finally shows up, notes that Lily’s the one who’s late, and pulls her into a wormhole. 
The other Tom Riddle is left behind in dumb horror, realizing as the seconds tick by, that apparently Lily is not coming back for him.
The end.
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His Little Witch~~Part 9
MASTERLIST
Part 8
Main Pairing: Tom Riddle x Reader
Background Pairings: Harry Potter x Ginny Weasley, Ron Weasley x Hermione Granger, Luna Lovegood x Neville Longbottom, James Potter x Lily Potter, Draco Malfoy x Pansy Parkinson
Tags: Swearing, Controlling!Tom Riddle, Controlling Relationship, Canon-Typical Violence, Possessive Tom Riddle, Soulmates, AU, CANON DIVERGENCE, Minister of Magic Tom Riddle, Out of Character Tom Riddle, nice Tom Riddle, Dumbledore and Tom get along, sane Tom Riddle
Taglist: @chewymoustachio, @peachsnyder138, @marvelous-glims, @ingeniouscollectionthing, @thedarkshiningknight
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“Little Witch! Are you ready yet?” Tom calls from his study.
“In a minute babe!” You call back, peeking your head out of your bedroom.
“Love, we need to get going, it’s the first task of the Triwizard Tournament. The Minister of Magic cannot be late.” He repeats for what had to be the tenth time that morning as he walks back into your bedroom, where you’re finishing getting ready.
“Tommy relax. They aren’t going to start without you. And anyway it’s not even 10:30 yet, the task doesn’t start until noon.” You remind him gently. He was already stressed out about baby Grindelwald and it was the morning of the first task of a tournament that hadn’t been held in 20 years. 
But to be honest you think that he is more worried about you being out in public with Grindelwald on the loose. You hadn’t left the house in a week and you were going stir crazy. You had to beg Tom to let you go with to the first task and he finally relented after your incessant teasing last night. 
“You’re right, sorry, I’m just nervous.” He apologizes, pacing back and forth in front of the bed, running his hands down his face.
“It’s all going to be fine babe,” you say softly standing up and stepping in front of him, taking his hands in yours.
“You don’t know that. A million things could go wrong a student could be injured, Grindelwald could show up, you could be hurt-“ he started rambling.
“Babe, it’s going to be ok. Just breathe,” you try to soothe him but you know it’s hopeless. No matter what you say or do he will still be a bundle of nerves. 
“You’re right love, of course, you’re right,” he says after taking a deep breath, he forces a small smile trying to ease your concern for him. But you know it’s fake, Tom is still panicking no matter how much he tries to hide it from you.
“Hey, I love you, Riddle,” you whisper, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. He reciprocates, finally letting his shields down a little.
“I love you too my Little Witch,” he replies after you break apart. “Are you ready yet?” He asks, causing you to chuckle.
“Yes my love, we can go now, though we are going to be incredibly early.” You tease taking his hand in yours as the two of you walk to his study. 
“Better to be early than late. I am the Minister of Magic, after all, I do have a reputation to uphold,” he says as the two of you step into the fireplace together and Tom grabs a handful of Floo powder before shouting, “Dumbledore’s office!”
The fire flares up around you and sucks the two of you in before quickly depositing you in Dumbledore’s fireplace. The headmaster glances up from his position behind the desk, and a small smile creeping upon his face.
“Ahhh, Tom, Ms. Y/l/n, lovely to see the two of you again. Excited for the first task?” Dumbledore asks as the two of you step out of the fireplace and dust off your robes.
“Very! I am so excited to see Harry compete today! Though not as much as James and Sirius I’m sure.” You reply, your smile stretching from ear to ear. There was a small part of you that was worried about Harry’s safety but you knew that with Tom, Sirius, James, and Dumbledore there he wasn’t in any real danger. 
“Yes, I’m sure James and Sirius are thrilled about Harry competing. And you Tom? Are you excited?” Dumbledore asks carefully, his eyes twinkling with concern.
“Oh yes, I’m so thrilled that we are hosting a deadly tournament with barely legal wizards competing in. It’s not like this isn’t an international incident waiting to happen or anything,” he replied, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
“Don’t mind him, Professor. He’s just a worrier, deep down I’m sure he’s excited.” You cut in, shooting Tom a look that says behave. 
“I completely understand Ms. Y/l/n, Tom has always been one to worry. Mr. Crouch and Mr. Bagman shall be arriving shortly and then we can discuss final details about the tournament and the tasks.” Dumbledore says and you take that as your cue to leave. But of course, Tom refuses to relinquish his hold on you. His arm stays firmly in place around your shoulders and he shoots you a confused look.
“Where do you think you’re going Little Witch?” He asks, worry clouding his features.
“I was going to give you all some privacy to discuss tournament matters and find my friends. I wanted to wish Harry good luck.” You explained, patiently. You should have known he would question you. Tom was ridiculously overprotective and he hated not having you by his side.
“Alright, but I want James and Sirius to escort you. Albus, could you send them a message?” He asks, still keeping you tucked into his side.
“Of course Tom,” Dumbledore replied indulgently. He quickly summons his patronus and asks it to find James and Sirius and tell them to come to his office. While the three of you are waiting Dumbledore makes up some phony excuse about needing to check up on Fawkes, in order to give you and Tom some privacy. Dumbledore quickly shuffles off into his private chambers, just off of his office, as soon as the door closes Tom crushes you against him in a bone-crushing hug.
“Tom, it’s only for a little while, I’ll see you at the task.” You try to reassure him, though you know it’s pointless.
“I know love, but with Grindelwald out there I’m on high alert. This is the perfect opportunity for him to attack and I can’t have you caught in the crossfire. Promise me you will stay with James and Sirius until I come and collect you for the tournament?” 
“Ohh, I get to sit with the Minister of Magic?” You tease and he just glares at you waiting for you to answer his question.
“Of course love,” you promise knowing there is no point in arguing. Especially considering all the begging you had to do to even be allowed to come today.
“Thank you Little Witch,” he replies before capturing your mouth in a hard, possessive kiss. Only a few moments later however you are interrupted by a knock on the door that causes the two of you to pull apart. Sirius and James walk in with big smirks on their faces, Merlin will those two ever grow up?
“Hope we weren’t interrupting anything,” Sirius teases with a giant smirk on his face. 
“Sod off Black,” Tom growls in response.
“Touchy, touchy,” James tutts.
“Do you two want to be unemployed?” Tom hisses, his face turning slightly pink at their teasing. 
“Let’s go guys before you get yourselves fired.” You say, giving Tom’s hand a quick squeeze before heading for the door.
“You two keep her safe,” Tom commands as the three of you walk towards the door.
“Yes Minister,” they both reply, any tone of teasing gone from their voices. 
The three of you walk down in relative silence, feeling slightly awkward due to the lack of conversation you ask the one question that’s been on your mind all morning.
“How’s Lily doing?”
“She’s ready to lock Harry in a tower and throw away the key,” James replies, scratching the back of his neck nervously.
“I can’t believe she hasn’t done it yet,” Sirius says.
“What about you two?” You asked you knew that no matter how crazy and chill these two might appear, they were secretly just as overprotective as Tom.
“I’m excited for him, but part of me just wants to put my foot down and tell him he can’t compete. I know it’s important to him but this tournament...it’s so dangerous.” James answers, his face hardening at the thought of his son in danger.
“Yeah, I know he’s a great wizard but to me, he’s still just a chubby, clumsy baby.” Sirius jokes, but you can see the tension behind his forced smile.
“He’s gonna do great guys,” you try to reassure them, they both offer you smiles but you can tell they are still freaking out on the inside.
Once you reach the Quidditch Pitch which had been altered to accommodate a dragon’s nest, you rush over to Harry and the others. James and Sirius stay back to give you guys some time on your own, though they stay close enough to keep an eye on you and to protect you if the need should arise.
“Hey, guys!” You greet them with a smile and pull Harry into a big hug. “Good luck out there Harry. You’re gonna do great.” 
Once you break away from Harry you take in the looks on everyone’s faces. Harry looks slightly nervous but mostly excited, Ginny looks like she’s going to be sick, Ron looks enthusiastic yet slightly jealous, and Hermione looks disgusted at the prospect of students fighting dragons. 
“Thanks, Y/n/n,” he says with a soft smile. He puts an arm around Ginny who was shaking like a leaf to try and steady her. 
“It’s gonna be fine Gin,” he whispers, pressing a kiss to her temple.
“Champions to the tent please!” McGonagall’s voice announces over the loudspeakers. Harry gives you all one last wave before heading over to the champions’ tent.
“He’s gonna be alright Ginny,” you try to reassure her as you place an arm around her shoulders.
“Yeah, Harry’s a great wizard sis, he’ll be fine.” Ron agrees, trying to quell his sister’s worries.
“Y/n, I think someone is looking for you,” Hermione remarks, pointing over to where Tom is searching the crowd with a concerned expression.
“Oh, thanks ‘Mione. I’ll see you guys later,” you say before rushing over to his side.
“There you are Little Witch,” he greets you and you can see the tension fade from his face. Damn this man needs some calming drought, you think to yourself. He gives James and Sirius a nod, dismissing them from babysitting duty, at least for now.
“Hi Tom, how was the meeting?” You ask curiously. He wraps his arm around you and the two of you walk over to the teacher’s box. 
“Boring, it was just tying up some loose ends and making sure the French and Bulgarian Ministries were part of the task development process. We need to cover our bases and ensure a fair competition.” He explains as the two of you enter the teacher’s box and he guides you to your seats. You were sitting in the front row next to Dumbledore and the other headmasters. It was a little awkward being with all the teachers, instead of the other students. But you were just going to have to get used to it, being the Minister’s mate and all.
The task was incredibly high pace and very interesting to watch. Though it was also slightly terrifying to see your fellow students go up against a dragon and try to capture their egg. Harry ended up scoring the highest and getting to his egg the fastest, which placed him in the lead. He made sure to use his natural skills to his advantage, summoning his broomstick and then getting the dragon to fly after him in order to get it away from the egg so he could then swoop in and grab it. 
“I’m gonna go congratulate Harry,” you whisper to Tom right as he was being bombarded by reporters, all asking questions about the tournament. You knew he would be furious at you for wandering off on your own but you would deal with that later.
“Congratulations Harry!” You shouted giving him a big hug. His mom and Ginny were smiling but you could see the terror in their eyes. Sirius and James were off collecting money from their bets and Remus had his arm wrapped around Lily’s shoulder stabilizing her. Ron was going on and on about how incredible Harry was and Hermione was ranting to anyone who would listen about how absolutely barbaric the tournament was.
“Hey, guys party in the common room after dinner!” Seamus shouted, he and Dean both had faces full of Gryffindor colored face paint.
“Sweet!” Ron exclaims, he was always ready to party.
“Are you coming Y/n?” Hermione asks quietly.
“I wish, there is no way Tom will let me go without him and I don’t think it would be a ton of fun with the Minister of Magic chaperoning us.” You grumble slightly annoyed. You loved Tom but sometimes it sucked not being able to just hang out or party with your friends.
“There you are Little Witch,” Tom growled, looking absolutely furious with your little disappearing act.
“Hey babe,” you greet shyly, nervous for his reaction. 
“Ready to go home?” He phrases it like a question but you know better. Fuck, you were in so much trouble when you got home.
“Sure, bye guys!” You call over your shoulder as Tom leads you back to the castle. The entire trip back to Dumbledore’s office is silent and you decide it’s best to keep it that way until you get home. Once you are in Dumbledore’s office the two of you walk straight to the fireplace and Tom grabs a handful of Floo powder before shouting, “Riddle Manor!” The fire swirls around the two of you again before depositing you both in the fireplace in Tom’s study. Tom marches you towards your room before he slams the door closed and turns to give you his signature glare.
“Care to explain Little Witch?” He asks, the fury practically dripping from his voice.
Fuck, you were in trouble now.
————————————————————————
Part 10
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i. devour ✤ helmi x jestiny
full cult au + “i’ve dreamt about this” requested by @adelaidedrubman
word count: 1.9k
warnings: canon-typical drug use, cults run amok, dubious consent because of the drug use (but it is safe i promise), lots of allusions to cannibalistic imagery, excessive use of the word "want" and "hungry" (sorry), hints of helmi/jestiny/kajsa if you squint, canon-typical descriptions of gore and violence : ^ ) obviously this is elaborating on some themes of emotional manipulation (as cults do) so please do not read if you are uncomfy!
Helmi has always been a completionist.
It’s not that she’s a particularly competitive woman; she’s just efficient. There’s no task set out ahead of her that she cannot get done, large or small. A problem is presented, and Helmi solves it. Sometimes it’s an easy solution. Sometimes it requires brute force. This part, she always plays by ear.
Jestiny is no different.
She would almost be frustrated by the existence of the other woman were she not so interested. There’s weeks of back and forth. She can’t afford to lose track of what the true task is: wrench, slice, gut. Empty them out onto the snow. Paint it red, red, red. But if there’s something that drives her away from her duty—heart, heart, that’s what you are, pumping blood out of our last dying breath, spill it onto the earth for our Mother to feel—it’s the incessant, obnoxious chattering in the radios from the deputy. She cannot stand to have her work undone, and yet: there is an undoing, in human shape, burning in the back of her mind until her molars are grinding together.
It is frustrating to have her attention so raptly caught, so fiercely entrenched in a net of thorns she cannot possibly pull it away without causing irreparable damage, and especially for Kajsa to notice.
She can still remember the first time she had come back to the others, radiating irritation because as much as she likes the cat and mouse, she wants contact. Fingers and teeth to meet in the flesh. And she hadn’t been sure how to reconcile this feeling with the knowledge that one day, the Father of Many Faces may ask her—through Kajsa—to rip her ribs open and clean her out.
And as though she can read her mind (perhaps she can, you know, she always seems to See Us), Kajsa had looked at her and said, “Do you want her?”
Helmi knows her expression had crumpled. Twisted up, mouth downturned viciously, quickly directing her eyes elsewhere so that Kajsa cannot see the ache in her.
“It’s not my job to want,” had been her reply.
“Do not be foolish.” Kajsa had cut a piece of her apple, pushing the piece departed from the apple’s body into Helmi’s hand. “Get her.”
Her heart had felt sticky. Hot, jumping up in her throat. It had been a long time since she had wanted. “Kajsa—”
“Now it is your job, no?” And Kajsa waved her knife, wet with apple, dismissively. “And maybe I want her. Get her.” And then, planting the flat edge of the blade against Helmi’s lower lip to quiet the oncoming protest: “For me.”
Of course, she could not have refused, even if she wanted to. Even if the cool metal of the blade had not reminded her of who it was she answered to, even if the sticky-wet of Kajsa’s voice did not tell her there was no arguing to be had.
So she does: get her.
It takes a long time. Longer than, normally, Helmi would like. It’s impossible not to rush where the redhead is considered, anyway; Jestiny pushes all of her buttons, goads her, coaxes and shoves and bites and kicks her way through every interaction (sometimes, literally). But each time Helmi leaves their coincidental run-in with a bite-bloodied lip, she’s hungrier.
Wanting.
She spends their time apart wondering how sweet she will be when she finally acquiesces. There’s no lack of Jestiny spitting out fuck yous and get the hell outs, but one day—Helmi knows this—it won’t be so much vitriol. She doesn’t want it gone, just...redirected. Used more intentionally. And she thinks about what it will be like to grab a fistful of that red hair and tilt her head back and have all that skin just for herself.
Well, herself and Kajsa.
It’s so frequent that the moments in time permeate her sleeping hours, too. She dreams about it; dreams of the submission, acquiescence, of the redhead tilting her chin to give her more skin to kiss, digging her nails in and saying more, Hel, give me more, I’ll take more, of kissing her. Gods, does Helmi just want to kiss her.
But when it takes a little too long, when the days are dragging by with no deputy swaddled up in their family, Kajsa says, “Enough playing, Helmi.”
She’s halfway to the truck when the woman speaks, stopping with her hand on the handle and the keys dangling from her fingers. Helmi looks back at her black-haired paramour.
“I’m not,” she says.
“I know you,” Kajsa replies. “You play with your food.”
Yes, Helmi thinks, willing her expression still. I do.
“Make a meal of her if you are going to,” Kajsa continues, “but I am tired of waiting, Helmi.” Her head tilts, slate-gray eyes dark sharp. “Tonight.”
And that is how Helmi finds herself in a room filled with the overwhelming scent of lavender and smoke, rich, wet earth pummeling her senses. She had wanted to bring Jessie around without it, but what Kajsa wants, Kajsa gets—so here she is, standing in the doorway of a room filling with smoke, vents stuffed with wet herbs and radiating the fetid smell throughout the house.
It’s clear that Jestiny has had very little exposure to it, despite their frequent run-ins. Her eyes are a little glassy, hands curling into fists at her sides. She looks pissed.
“What—” Just that one word is already slurring. “What the fuck did you—are you doing to me?”
Helmi takes in a slow, measured breath. It’s potent, even to her, even when she’s been dosed on it in exponentially larger amounts to build up her tolerance. “Opening you,” she replies after a moment.
“Fuck you,” the redhead spits. “No-fuckin’-vacancy. We’re closed. Closed the-fuck-up, compadre—”
She’s rambling already, too. Helmi rolls her eyes. “To the influence,” she clarifies, as though she doesn't also want to open up Jestiny for her, taking a few steps forward. The sound of her feet hitting the floor bounce in light waves around her, even as her heart rate stays slow against the drug. She can taste it coating the inside of her mouth, it’s so wet; and when she gets within touching range, Jestiny blinks, flinching and recoiling, like she hadn’t seen her coming even though their eyes had not once left each other.
She rasps, “Get out.”
Helmi’s eyes narrow. Normally, she would have obliged. For the game. “No.”
“Get—” Jestiny sucks in a sharp breath. “Get the f-fuck—”
“Aren’t you tired of playing this game?” Helmi demands, channeling what of Kajsa still roots itself in her mind. “You don’t belong with them. The Resistance, the Seeds—they don’t want you. You can see it now, can’t you? Now that all of that garbage is pushed out of the way, all of those pesky walls pushed down, you can see that they’re using you. You’re nothing more than a checker piece in their fucking backgammon game.”
“Shut up—”
“They don’t want you,” she repeats, and the room is so hot, so fucking hot it’s sweltering and she wishes she’d shucked at least some of her layers before coming, if only for temperature control. Oh, well. Too late. “Not in the way you deserve.”
She reaches up, hand landing on the juncture between Jessie’s shoulder and neck. She had foregone the gloves, at least, but that had been for selfish reasons; because she wanted to feel. All that skin.
The skin-to-skin contact had a strange, wild little sound crawling up Jestiny’s throat. She sounds upset. Distressed.
“They don’t want you,” Helmi says again, pitching her voice lower, so close so close so mine, “the way that I do.”
She imagines it must be scary. The first time being opened always is. But vulnerability is scary; openness, seeing, is scary. The drugs allow for true sight, but it’s not always what the person wants to see, just what they need to see. And Helmi can tell that Jestiny is panicking, does not like seeing the truth in Helmi’s words, because she makes a sound like choking.
Helmi kisses her.
The woman stills, freezing ramrod-straight. She doesn’t return the gesture, not right away; instead, she stands there and just lets Helmi kiss her. It’s not until she starts to pull back that the redhead finally reacts, reaching up and grabbing the wrist closest to her neck, digging her nails in again. Helmi only pulls back far enough to leave breath between their mouths, but Jestiny is gripping her like she’s going away forever. For good.
“Again,” Jessie manages out, hoarsely. “S-Say—Say it—”
“I want you,” Helmi says when she realizes what it is Jestiny is asking for. And she is asking, which she has never done before; it’s always only demanding, ordering, commanding. So Helmi glides her hand up the woman’s neck and threads her fingers through her hair and says, against her mouth, “I want you, little snake.”
That strange little sound comes out of the redhead again—but it’s clearer this time; a moan, agonized and distressed, like she wants and wishes she didn't.
The air is thick between them, wet and humid and riddled with the overwhelming darkness of the earth. She watches the woman’s bubblegum-pink tongue dart out, wetting her lips, and Helmi feels that emotion gnawing at her insides again:
Hunger.
She has spent years stifling her appetite; she’s tired of it. She wants to hunger, to be caught wanting, and she doesn’t mind—Kajsa had said she could. Had ordered her. It was her job to want, and to be hungry, and she feels it now more than ever. Absently, Helmi twists a lock of copper hair around her finger, watching it coil tight and then slip loose again, falling from her fingers; embers embers embers, in the dying light, and she can’t look away. She’s always had a thing for fire, anyway.
“You won’t believe me,” she murmurs, lifting her eyes to meet amber ones, the corners of her mouth ticking upwards, “but I’ll say it anyway.”
Hel dips her head down, guides her mouth across warm skin; hungry, wanting, but she doesn’t care to be seen like this—prefers it, actually—so she says, “I’ve dreamt about this.”
“Shut up,” Jestiny manages out, her voice breaking a little. “Sound so f-fucking stupid.”
Hel tightens her grip on the copper hair again and tugs. “Brat.”
A most unbecoming squeak comes out of Jessie, her brows furrowing in irritation and face flushing a gorgeous high-colour. “Feel like shit,” Jestiny slurs. “You made me feel like shit.”
“I know,” Helmi whispers back, the closest she will get to apologizing for making her see the truth. “But you belong with me.”
She knows the way the Resistance and the Seeds talk about Jestiny. It’s always belong to, not belong with, but she’ll show Jestiny that it’s different now. They’re different.
She’s different.
And there’s nothing quite like kissing her, Helmi decides, as sweet as she imagined that it would be in her dreams, because now Jestiny is kissing her back—parting her lips and fisting the dark fabric of Helmi’s sweater, rambling something against her mouth that Helmi can’t quite make out over the sound of her blood rushing through her head.
Later, she will dream about it. Later, she will roll over in her makeshift bed, and pull the then-sleeping redhead against her, to assure herself that she’s there, and every bone in her body will sing at last, at last, we’ve got you at last. Later, she will bury her face into the crook of the redhead's neck and indulge herself in warm skin, hers for the taking. Later, she will trace every single dip and curve with her fingers. It will be as sweet as kissing.
But nothing will be quite so sweet as the way it feels when Kasja turns to see them coming from the truck, hand-in-hand, a smile curving her mouth as she watches them and says:
“Welcome home.”
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