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#whos parents were good to them r always taken more seriously like. if i made a post talking abt relating the 'give me back my girlhood' lin

moofahdrome · 6 days

Note

U have very good taste in ttrpgs !!

U should talk about ur fave character uve played as if u have one!

thank you thanks!!! its GOTTA be Ellen Weaver, alias Alloy, a PC I made for a Masks game that I'd love to use again! I've got a few pieces of her to share here, and I'll paste her bio below the cut :)

art by @beedokart and @paperandpencilsandskips respectively!

and some INCREDIBLE music from @maxknightley !!!

She's just. SO fun to play and explore and be cool and interesting and queer with. I really hope I can play another game where she'll fit! Plus designing her gave me sooooo much gender euphoria and I've started looking a lot more like her irl its wonderfullllll

Here's her bio if you wanna read!

Ellen Weaver is the goddaughter of the hero Stainless, an iron man-style figurehead hero for a major tech and defense company that her actual parents own. Ellen always admired Stainless and wanted to be a hero just like her, though as the eldest son (at the time) of a CEO she wasn't taken very seriously until she genuinely committed herself to the task throughout her adolescence. On her 18th birthday, a year after she came out as a girl, Stainless finally promised to take her on as an apprentice once she turned 20 as long as she constantly trained and studied, and the inheritance of Stainless Corp. was passed down to her younger brother.

One day, while Stainless was taking her on a tour of the company's weapons R&D, they observed the study(torture) of a captured alien creature resembling a long strand of silver. Sensing Ellen's deeply hidden empathy, the symbiote escaped its cage and bonded with her, becoming a living metal tattoo across her skin. This disturbed everyone greatly, but after months of testing, it seemed to not be a threat. The symbiote is sentient but not (yet) capable of human expression, but it gets along with Ellen and wants to help her. As long as it's still connected to her somehow, it can detach from her skin to be used as a weapon or tool akin to a whip, a spear, a rope, or anything it can coil into. This gave her a genuine superpower, when both she and Stainless were only using intelligence, martial training, and gadgets before.

This disturbed Stainless. She encourages or demands her apprentice to keep the symbiote dormant and unused, ostensibly because she doesn't want her protege to rely on an unpredictable power. In truth, though, alien or not, Stainless has a prejudice towards all genuine superhumans, viewing them as priding themselves above humanity and unfairly accomplishing what normal people have to work to create. Stainless was never a truly good mentor or hero, but this soured her further, and she is now much harder on Ellen, who still idolizes her.

Ellen, for her part, took the alias Alloy and officially registered herself as a hero on her twentieth birthday. The process was somewhat perturbing to her, since most heroes undergo various tests and trials to be officially licensed, but Stainless pushed her through the process without telling her and the judges just let her sit with them for a while before parading her out and celebrating her newly 'won' status. Alloy still strives to be a hero that will make her mentor and family proud, but eventually her doubts and fears will take over or she'll be pushed too far. When that day comes, she'll abandon her birthright and privilege and technology, becoming a vigilante entirely dependent on her relationship with herself, her symbiotic partner, and her friends.

#ttrpgs #masks rpg #masks a new generation #ellen weaver #my ocs #superhero oc

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freelancearsonist · 2 years

Text

Scenes From a Divorce

Jonathan Levy x gn!Reader

Rated R for themes of cheating, divorce, moral ambiguity, some non-sexual nudity, some talk of sex, and everyone is the bad guy

5,504 words

A/N: okay so i have to preface this by saying that this basically just piggybacks off the entire plot of the series so MAJOR SPOILER ALERT!!! huge thank you to @aellynera for putting up with me obsessively working on this fic over the five weeks the show ran and betaing each part 🥺 also it feels very important to me that you all know the font i used on the scene dividers is called “jonathan” 🥰

“I mean, she basically just asked if we were fucking other people.”

You’re trying your best to focus on the task at hand, but Jonathan’s dramatic retelling of the awkward interview he experienced with his wife has you shaking with laughter to the point that you have to put your scissors down.

“I mean, I seriously think it was less uncomfortable the first time I met Mira’s parents. And I could tell she was uncomfortable too, which I hate. I hate seeing her like that, like some kind of trapped animal. Almost called it off right then and there.”

He’s so sweet. God, he’s just so sweet that you want to crawl into his lap. Why do all the good ones have to be taken?

“But it was good, right? I mean, it’s important to discuss the different aspects of your relationship. Even when you’ve been together for ten years.”

He hums thoughtfully at your response as you pull the curls above his ears taut—he really is the perfect client; never wiggles or flinches and even warns you if he’s about to sneeze. It’s rather endearing, actually.

You’ve been cutting his hair since you first graduated from beauty school and the salon owner took a chance on you. It was really unusual, as many of your coworkers were keen to tell you—the kindly middle-aged woman who had been in charge of the salon for the fifteen years it had been in business made a habit of hiring only the best veteran hairdressers in the state.

For the first six weeks in the salon you worked as an hourly employee while your boss breathed down your neck and assessed (a bit harshly, in your opinion) every cut and trim you made to your model clienteles’ heads.

And their hair cuts were completely free during your training period, but only select people were allowed to sit as models. You were supposed to invite friends and family to sit for you, but all of your friends and family were thousands of miles away in the small town you’d grown up in before moving to Boston to chase your aspirations.

For that reason it had been a bit difficult to find model clients during your training period—most of them were close personal friends of your boss, and that made the pressure even worse. You knew that they wouldn’t hesitate to tell her if anything was out of place or unsatisfactory, and it kept you on your toes the entirety of what turned out to be the longest six weeks of your life.

The best thing that came out of it—aside from establishing yourself as a worthy stylist in one of the best salons in Boston—was your friendship with Jonathan.

He’d come in late one night—a little breathless and soaked from a trademark Boston thunderstorm—hoping for a walk-in during the last week of your training, and your boss had been confident enough in your abilities to let you loose on his rain-soaked curls.

Jonathan’s always been a big believer in giving students chances, and you’re glad he extended the courtesy to you. He’s become your favorite client over the two years that you’ve been keeping his gorgeous curls under control—although you’d never admit that to anyone.

Having a crush on a married man isn’t exactly something that you’re proud of.

Your favorite thing about him is that he’s an extrovert by nature. You were a little apprehensive about going into a talkative profession because you lean a bit more toward the introvert side, and it’s clients like Jonathan that make you love the conversational side of your job.

He guides the conversation effortlessly, and when there’s a pause it never feels awkward. You could spend hours talking to him without ever feeling exhausted the way you do with some clients.

“So, besides the worst interview in the history of interviews, anything else new since six weeks ago?”

That’s a pretty loaded question, he realizes, and even though he knows you couldn’t possibly know about the pregnancy, it kind of feels like you know that he’s held something back.

He’s never had a very good poker face, after all.

“She—Mira—she’s, uhh…” he squirms a little uncomfortably, but you see it coming and pull your scissors back before he can throw you off. “That night, she told me… she’s pregnant.”

It shouldn’t feel like a dagger, but for some reason it does. A dagger stabbed right in your gut by a man who isn’t yours and you have no right feeling anything for.

“Wow,” you breathe. “I mean, congratulations! That’s so exciting, Jonathan.”

He smiles at you in the mirror, but you can see a sadness in his eyes and you immediately regret saying anything.

“Thanks. I… I mean, I really want to keep it, and she said she did too, but…” he takes a deep breath, and you busy yourself with brushing the short hairs from his neck so you don’t have to look him in the eyes.

“I could just kinda tell, you know? Like she was saying one thing but meant another. So I don’t know what’s going to happen. And I mean, obviously it’s up to her! I don’t want her to go through nine uncomfortable months again if it’s not what she wants. I just… I guess one of us is going to be unhappy no matter what happens.”

“It’ll be okay.” Maybe you’re overstepping, but you can’t help setting your hand on his shoulder and giving it a gentle, reassuring squeeze. “I know you’ll make the right decision.”

His eyes meet yours again through the mirror, and when he reaches up and squeezes your hand it feels more right than anything has in a long time.

He looks so shaken when he comes in, and you’re surprised to see him.

He normally books his six week trim at the end of every appointment—it’s something you’ve come to know about him, that he likes routines and having everything planned out. He’s not very spontaneous, but there’s something endearing about his predictability.

But he cancelled his last appointment last minute, and you don’t see him for another two months since then.

You almost reach out and ask if you did something wrong, but you know he’s been struggling with his marriage lately. Or, more accurately, struggling with his own thoughts since the abortion.

Whatever the reason is, you don’t want to add any unnecessary stress to his life.

And then one day he bursts in right as you’re turning on the “open” sign, no appointment scheduled, eyes wildly searching around the room.

He looks completely unhinged and you’re almost frightened before you remember that you trust him.

Eyes swollen and red, wearing a sweater that doesn’t even remotely match the sweatpants he’s pulled on that are hastily tucked into his sneakers like he stepped into them and ran the entire way here. His hair is sticking up in all different directions like he came here straight out of bed and your heart breaks to see him like this because you’ve only ever seen him composed and neatly put together.

“Jonathan?”

Your voice breaks him out of whatever trance he’s in, and you cast a sideways glance at the other opening stylist to let her know that it’s okay, no need to call the cops on him.

“I didn’t know if you would be here.” His voice breaks—and with it, your heart. “I didn’t… know where else to go.”

“Come here.”

You take his hand and lead him into the back, set him down on the break room couch because he’s shaking so badly you think he might fall over. He declines your offer of coffee, water, tea, knuckles white from the way he grips onto his knees. Even still, with every muscle in his body pulled taut, he’s trembling.

“Jonathan, what’s the matter? Is everything okay?”

“She left,” he coughs, and for a moment your mind starts racing, already planning every step you’ll take if he’s about to have an asthma attack. But he clears his throat and then continues. “She’s seeing another man, she’s in love with him, they knew and they didn’t tell me… she just left. Just like that.”

When you take a seat next to him his entire body crumples, and you eagerly accept him into your arms as his body wracks and shakes with heavy sobs.

Part of you had worried, over the last two months, that you might never see your favorite client again. And now here he is, face pressed into your lap, crumbling into pieces in your arms. Not exactly how you expected your day to start.

“Shhhh, it’s gonna be okay.” You don’t know if you’re overstepping, but it’s not like it’s the first time you’ve touched his hair so you allow your hands to brush through his tangled curls. It’s the least you can do to sooth him, but it seems to be doing the trick.

It’s a long few moments before he composes himself enough to speak, but he keeps his face pressed tightly against you to the point that you worry he might suffocate himself.

“God, I’m so sorry,” he sniffles. “You must think I’m such a fuckin’ weirdo.”

“Maybe a little bit,” you tease with a gentle smile. “But I like that about you.”

He gives you a better explanation this time, with the detached nature of a film critic reciting a movie plot. How she came home late and told him out of the blue that she was in love with another man, how he begged and pleaded for her to have some sense, to take things a little more slowly and see reason, how she refused and walked out the door without looking back. How his friends had known all along that their marriage was going to collapse and kept it from him like it was nothing.

“I know you must think I’m so fuckin’ weird, that you’re the first person I think of after losing everyone else,” he chuckles dryly.

“Hey, I’d like to say that we’re close enough to call ourselves friends. Right?”

“I only ever see you here,” he points out with a humorless smile. “But sure.”

“Well, let’s change that then. I don’t have an appointment for an hour, let’s go get some coffee. Some fresh air will do you good.”

In this moment, being his friend feels like the most important thing that you’ve ever done. He’s never needed someone as badly as he does right now, and for some reason that you can’t explain you’re entirely prepared to take the whole day off just to be there for him in a way that his wife and Peter and Kate were too cowardly for.

Your heart has never ached more for someone than it does as you see the light dying from his eyes, even as he wears a smile and tells you, “Thank you for this, I’m feeling much better.”

It doesn’t scare you, the way you think it should.

At least, until the night of.

And then there’s butterflies swirling in your stomach so violently you think you’re going to puke.

The only thing that really makes it better is when he wraps you up in his arms and tells you, “there’s nothing to worry about, she’s going to love you.”

And you trust him. You trust him more than you trust anyone.

But there’s something to worry about, and it surprises you that he doesn’t realize it. Maybe he’s too encapsulated in this new romance that you have together.

Meeting Ava for the first time is terrifying because you can’t replace Mira. You know that, she knows that, and Mira knows that. Even if Mira doesn’t know of your existence—you haven’t asked Jonathan if he’s told her about you, it doesn’t seem like any of your business—she knows that she could never be replaced.

That’s the upper-hand here, and what you can see from the way that she keeps this marriage dangling by a thread even though she’s the one who left—she wants Jonathan as a back-up plan in case things don’t work out with Poli. And she’s allowed to do so because she will always be his wife, Ava’s mother.

You feel for her. She must be so terrified, so lost, so alone. If she wasn’t hurting Jonathan the way she is, you might even like to be friends with her.

But that’s why this first meeting has so much hinging on it. Because if you appear like you’re attempting to replace Mira—to either Jonathan or Ava—it could be the end.

Of course, Jonathan doesn’t realize that. It’s completely subconscious, but over the last few months together you’ve learned how he works. He’s sensitive and smart and he understands you. But he also understands himself, and what he needs is someone who isn’t another Mira.

You’ve done a remarkable job of that so far, and today could either solidify that or it could ruin you.

When Mira uses your name, it sends a shock of affection through your heart. For Jonathan, of course—for the fact that he cares enough about you to talk about you to his wife.

She pulls you into a hug, which catches you off guard—from everything you’ve heard, you kind of expect her to be a cold and conniving bitch.

But she grins as she looks between you and Jonathan and says, “this is great, I’m really happy for you.”

“Ava, there’s someone really special I want you to meet.”

It warms your heart to see the way Jonathan’s entire face lights up when his daughter walks through the door, clad in a bright pink backpack and tiny sneakers to match.

Ava greets you warmly, although it’s a little apparent that she’s eager to go upstairs and play after a long weekend stuck in her mother’s hotel room.

Mira leaves in a hurry, clearly not keen on sticking around and you don’t blame her. It must hurt, to see Jonathan like this. You can see the regret, the conflict in her eyes. The helplessness.

You wish you would’ve met her under better circumstances.

But it’s a lovely night. Ava seems very excited about the stories you tell of your work, even though the idea of being a hairdresser must be pretty boring to a five-year-old.

But as the evening winds down, you don’t have a single butterfly left in your stomach. They’ve all turned to love and migrated to your heart as you watch Jonathan with his daughter.

“She adores you,” Jonathan tells you after he returns from tucking Ava in for the night. “I was honestly a little worried. Mira said it took a little while for her to warm up to the idea of Poli, so I wasn’t sure how she’d handle meeting you.”

He curls into your side on the couch, rests his head on your chest so you can play with his curls the way you know he loves.

“You really think so? I was really nervous.” You chew your lip as you choose your next words carefully. “Mira seemed… shocked.”

He hums at your words. “She didn’t think it would work out. Which is such bullshit. If she can work with Poli and be happier than she was with me, it shouldn’t be hard to understand that I’m happier with you.”

It makes your breath catch in your throat. You’ve been very careful about not pushing him, not wanting to rush him into anything, and he appreciates your patience. But he doesn’t need it.

He thought it was a little ridiculous, when his therapist told him to start writing three pages first thing in the morning. But he’s grown to love it. It’s a time of introspection, and a time to examine all the change that he’s encountered. And you, by far, are the best part.

Because while he’s conditioned himself to hide a portion of himself away, you let him unload everything on you. Years and years of repressed emotions that he was too scared to give to Mira because she was already dealing with all of her own confusion and depression.

You accept his anxieties and his worries with excitement. Not only because it’s a part of your job—he likes to lovingly refer to you as a “therapist with a razor”—but because you understand. You can relate to so much of what he feels, and you don’t try to pretend when you don’t comprehend something that he’s feeling. Instead, you try to get him to help you understand.

“I love you.”

It’s so quiet that you’re not even sure you really hear it, or if your brain is just giving you what you want.

“Maybe it’s insanity, but I really do,” he continues. “I’ve never felt so much like myself as I do when I’m with you.”

He tilts his head back to look up at you, and you don’t waste a moment to press your lips firmly to his.

“I love you too, Jonathan.”

You scream when you see him.

It makes him jump, but you don’t have the capacity to feel guilty over it because you’re so scared you can’t even breathe.

It was supposed to be ten minutes tops. They would go through everything together and then sign the papers.

You were a little hesitant, when he told you. Because he did tell you about the night that they stayed together, about how they’d almost slept together on the living room floor, but he told you that they hadn’t. That he’d pushed her away.

And maybe part of you was scared, when he mentioned this meeting, that if she propositioned him again he wouldn’t say no. That you’d get a phone call from him saying that they decided to try and work everything out, that you’re not a part of the equation anymore.

But you trust him. He says he loves you, and you believe him.

You’re sobbing into his chest before he even has his coat off, and he’s too stunned to do anything other than stand there and let your tears soak into the fabric of his sweater.

He feels disgusting. You’re crying into the sweater that he fucked his wife in and he just wants to peel all his clothes off and burn them in the backyard.

“What the fuck did she do to you?”

“I deserved it,” he mutters. “I need to get changed.”

“Get in the shower,” you demand softly. He winces a little bit when your hands cup his face to get a better look at the scratches, and all you can do is grimace apologetically. “Jesus, these are deep. Come on, shower. Let me help you clean these up.”

He’s just thankful for any excuse to get out of these fucking clothes.

“What the fuck happened, baby?” It’s gentler when you ask this time—his head tipped back under the stream of the shower so you can wash his hair. It’s not entirely necessary, but you know it brings him comfort. He’s told you it’s his favorite part of sitting in your chair at the salon—when you run your fingers through his hair and wash it with your expert fingers. It’s become his favorite way to unwind after a stressful day.

He takes a deep breath. Then another.

You know everything he’s struggled with in the three years that have passed since Mira left. It’s why this relationship is so special to him—he’s not afraid to tell you every little thing that comes to his mind.

So he knows he has to tell you everything that happened. Even though it’ll break your heart. Because if he keeps it a secret, what’s stopping him from keeping other secrets? And then there’s no transparency, no communication, and suddenly his relationship with you is exactly like his marriage with Mira.

No, he has to tell you. Because like this, there’s at least a chance that you can forgive him. But if he keeps it a secret, he won’t be able to forgive himself for lying to you.

And even worse, if he kept it a secret and you somehow found out?

He doesn’t want to take that chance. He can’t take that chance.

“She was late,” he starts after another deep breath. “Had a meeting with Ackerman. She umm… she got fired. Which she didn’t tell me until later, after we—“

He can’t do it. His tongue goes limp in his mouth and he feels your hands in his hair and he feels like the worst excuse for a human being on the planet.

You’re patient with his retelling of events, giving him a few seconds to continue before you prompt him with a gentle, “After you signed the papers?”

God, how he wishes it was that simple. He wants nothing more than for that to have been all that happened.

“We had sex.”

He’s the smallest man in the world. He’s the size of an ant and he wishes you would step on him and let his corpse wash down the drain.

Your hands rip away from him like his scalp has turned into a hot stove burner.

“What?”

He can’t open his eyes. He can’t bring himself to look at you because he knows that you’re crushed. That your heart is shattering and he won’t be able to live with himself if he sees on your face the hurt that he’s making you feel.

“She was stressed and upset and… it just happened.”

You’re out of the shower in a flash, but not before you turn the water temperature all the way down. Jonathan yelps at the icy water and fumbles for a few seconds before he successfully turns the knob off, and as angry as he wants to be he knows he deserves it.

“It just happened,” you repeat. “Your dick just slid inside her on accident. Fuck you, Jonathan.”

“No, it’s not like that,” he insists, but he knows arguing is futile. He deserves your hatred. “I… I didn’t feel anything.”

You just stare daggers at him, completely dumbfounded.

“I… I know it was wrong. I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry. But… I didn’t feel a thing for her. All of those feelings that I’ve had, that I’ve been trying to get rid of? They just vanished. Like they were never there at all.”

“And that’s… supposed to make it okay,” you state blankly. “You know what? You need to call the movers. Tell them to take your shit somewhere else because it sure as hell isn’t gonna come here.”

Jonathan’s hands shake as he pulls his towel off of the hook on the wall. He knows this is what he deserves. He cheated on you. It doesn’t matter that he’s still technically married to Mira, because he cheated on you. You, the person who helped him through the darkest time of his life. You, who showed him how relationships should be—how love should be. You, who is always so patient and understanding.

But this isn’t something you can understand. Because you trusted him. You trusted him not to cave to his desires, and he failed you. He failed himself.

“No, honey, please just listen to me.”

He knows he doesn’t deserve to make excuses, doesn’t deserve a chance to explain himself after what he’s done. But he can’t stop himself from trying. Because as desperate as he was to keep Mira from leaving, he’s ten times more desperate to keep you.

“Listen to you?” You laugh coldly. “What is there to listen to, Jonathan? Did you even sign the fucking papers or did you just come here to tell me that it’s over?”

“I don’t want her! I want you!”

He’s never raised his voice at you before, and he regrets it the moment it happens.

“Do not yell at me.” Your jaw is set so firmly that you think you might chip your teeth.

You’re seething and he can see it—can practically see the steam rolling from you.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

He knew this would happen. Knew it was the most likely possibility. He doesn’t blame you—in your shoes, he’d be furious too. He’d want to leave.

“We signed the papers,” he whispers. “I told her that I didn’t feel anything for her, that I wanted to be with you. She wouldn’t stop crying, trying to get me to stay. She broke up with Poli again and she wants to come home. But it’s too little too late. Because there’s no home for her anymore. And I know she only wants me again because she’s scared to be alone. It’s the same thing that happened last time. And if I didn’t have you, I would let her come back. I’d let her walk all over me and I’d thank her for it.

“But I have you. I have you and I can’t lose you. I’ve never even really been myself until you and if I lose you I’ll lose my fucking mind. I’ll lose myself. You’re the only person I’ve ever felt safe with and I told her that and she beat the shit out of me when I tried to leave. And God help me, I pushed her back and it finally got her to sign the goddamn papers. And I signed them too. And all I could think about the entire time was coming back here and being with you.”

You’re sobbing and shaking and all Jonathan can feel is relief. Relief because you curl into him, bury your face in his chest and wrap your arms so tightly around him that he can barely breathe. Relief because you’re not storming out the door.

It doesn’t fall apart like you think it will.

That’s a lie, technically, because you really don’t expect it to fall apart at all.

How naive you are.

But you can feel him slipping through your fingers, and at first it scares the shit out of you. It feels like your entire world is ending because there’s no way you can lose him after enduring so much with him. After loving him so much.

But then he’s gone.

He makes excuses, like how it was the wrong time to get into a relationship, that he was probably subconsciously using you as a way to work through the grief—as a way to get back at Mira. And that’s not fair to you, so he needs to leave before he keeps doing it.

They’re just excuses. They’re cardboard boxes disguised as cinderblocks.

It hurts less because you saw it coming months ago. This relationship, this love, has been on a ventilator for more than a season. But that doesn’t make it stop hurting entirely.

Your heart breaks for Ava as you’re packing your things up in boxes. She finally had some stability with you and her father in one home, she was finally starting to feel back to normal, and now she’s losing it again.

You feel as if you’ve failed her.

You’ve all failed her, in a way. You and Jonathan and Mira and Poli.

It’s a few months again before you see him. You move to the other side of town, start a new job at a new salon. It feels right to have a fresh start after losing four years of your life.

And then he walks through the door and the paper walls you’ve built and labeled as your new normal come crashing down.

He says he’s been invited to give a TED Talk. He needs to look completely immaculate and you’re the only person he trusts with his hair.

You want to tell him not to get hit by the door on his way out.

Instead, your mouth tells him to sit down in your chair.

“I’ve missed you,” he hums when your fingers card through his curls, and you want to scream at him. To tell him how unfair it is that he had to show up and destroy every semblance of ordinary you’ve built over the past few months.

“Did you lose my number?” There’s a bit of venom in your words, and you’re sure he hears it, but he’s gracious enough to ignore it.

He clears his throat awkwardly, closing his eyes so he doesn’t have to look at you. “Nope, no, just… didn’t think you’d want to hear from me.”

“I didn’t.” I don’t is what you meant to say, and you repeat over and over in your head that you should correct yourself, but with each passing moment you realize that it’s going to be increasingly more awkward to say so after such a long pause so you don’t say it at all.

“But you do now?” There’s hope in his voice, and you should squish it like a bug while you can.

Instead, your mouth betrays you. “That remains to be seen.”

You want to scream at yourself. Want to tell yourself that this didn’t work the first time and it won’t work now. That he doesn’t really love you, he just loves having support—he loves not being alone.

You’re still screaming at yourself mentally when he takes you out for coffee the next day.

“I think I was too… hasty,” he tells you. “And I… honestly, I’m amazed you’re even sitting across from me right now. I know I have no right to try and explain anything about what happened to you.”

You want to agree, to tell him that he and his explanations can go to hell. Instead, you close your mouth and let him keep talking.

“I’m scared to be in a relationship right now. And I’m scared to be alone. I just… I never knew that at forty-four years old I’d feel so lost. I think I had my life more together when I was in high school.” He chuckles at that, looks up and sees the lack of a smile on your face. He clears his throat before he continues. “I’m scared that… that I’ll lose you the way I lost Mira. And I know that’s not a reason to push you away, that’s a reason to communicate and talk about my feelings with you, but I—“

You silence his rambling by carefully setting your palm over his on top of the table, and it shuts him up immediately. He never thought he’d feel your touch again and it renders him completely speechless.

“If you can’t trust me to talk about what you’re feeling, if you can’t trust me to help you through this… there’s no point in us even being here, Jonathan.” You let out a deep sigh after a few seconds because he’s not saying anything and with each passing second of silence it feels like another inch of your relationship’s grave is being dug. “I just don’t get why you waited so long. Why didn’t you do this years ago?”

“Because I needed you.”

“But you don’t need me now.”

“That’s not what I meant.” He exhales deeply as he runs his hands over his face, and now that you’re pausing to take a good look at him you can see all the exhaustion. All the confusion. It’s bleeding off of him like a bad odor and it breaks your heart.

A part of you doesn’t know if you can handle being swept into his exhaustion and confusion again.

And even worse, a part of you wants to. You want to take his misery and help him carry it because it’s crushing him alive and you want to ease the burden.

But part of you knows that it’s just too heavy and if you try to get under it with him it’ll just crush you too.

So this is the choice you must make: do you watch it consume him and walk away perfectly fine, or do you try to help—knowing that you’ll fail—just so he doesn’t go down alone?

It’s the ultimate moral question. One that he’d find very fascinating if he wasn’t the main part of the equation.

But the horrible, ugly truth is that you love him. You love him and even if he doesn’t love you, if he’s incapable of feeling anything towards you, there’s no way you can be an innocent bystander while he’s crushed alive. You don’t care if you’d be better off parting ways and wishing him luck. It’ll eat you alive if you don’t at least try for him.

Falling asleep in the same bed again feels like a death sentence.

It also feels like the first time you’ve truly been alive since you left.

THE END

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minshookie · 3 years

Text

High Ransom.

Pairing |Mafia!BTS x innocent!reader

Genre | smut, angst, dark themed, mafia AU.

Summary | “They all knew your mothers word was good for nothing, she’d never pay it back. So they settled for a painful compromise.”

!warnings! Please read this before reading the fic| 18+ mature language, perverse actions, virginity loss, violent sex, anal sex, oral fem and male receiving, financial struggle, parent death, strict and neglecting mother, cum eating, darcyphilia, urolagnia,slight hate-fuck,reader insert is of age, extremely naive & innocent insert. I do not agree or support any actions depicted in this fictional work,rape. !!NON-CON!! !!non-con!!

| this is not in anyway shape or form a true depiction or representation of BTS, this is a work of fiction and is not to be taken seriously. For entertainment purposes only.|

(this is my work, please don’t repost or steal)

Requested [open for request] words: 4k.

A/N: 200 Follwers?! Hi, I love y’all sm 🤧. But on a serious note, this is the filthiest thing I’ve ever written, I warned y’all. Also the longest one of written yet. I hope it isn’t too much :’) please excuse any mistakes or grammatical errors.

Could they be running late? Shivering you sat in the windowsill towel wrapped around you keeping a sharp eye for their large dark SUV you loved so dearly. They were supposed to be here today, right? Getting up you stretch your legs going to look at your heavily decorated calendar,‘Friends Day!!’ In bright pink informed you, yes indeed they were to be here today.

A smile crept on your face, the confirmation made you feel giddy, the thought of seeing them again made you excited beyond belief. “Y/n I just know you’re dressed and not dripping all over the carpet!” Your mother teased from the living room. You swore she had cameras on you, unraveling yourself you chose one of the few outfits she had put together for you for guest appearances. Closing the curtains, making them look as casual as you could. You then sat on the bed waiting for her to come inspect, counting her footsteps along the creaking wood floors. She crept into your room, a stern expression on her face, you could tell she was stressed with nothing positive to say she mumbled “Stop pulling that face you look exactly like your father.”

You stood from the drab mattress choosing not to respond, “wet spot on the floor?! What’d I tell you to do?!” You hung your head, why must she always scold you. “You told me to get dressed Momma.” She sighed, “and you chose to come in here and prance around, flood the floors and dilly dally instead!” You studied the minuscule dark spots on the carpet, “they’ll dry momma.” You whispered under your breath hoping she wouldn’t decipher your response.

“Excuse me?” She griped your cheek in a pinch making you pull your head up to face her. She took a step back releasing your face, she sucked her teeth in disapproval. “Y/n you’ll have stay in here, that dress has gotten too short on you.” She knew her words hurt you, seeing the boys was the only thing you looked forward to every month. Their attention sometimes felt like your only reason to go forward, to avoid conflict with your mother, their presence being a type of reward. She turned to go and your vision began to blur, tears warmly cascade your plumped cheek.

Leaving you alone in the room, you resume your position in the windowsill moving the curtains just enough to peak. Still no sign of them, maybe they’d given up on the money, left you for good and you couldn’t blame them. If you could leave you would too. At that moment all hopes were given up, no longer keeping an eye out you began to daydream... at least Momma would be happier no longer having to worry about the escalating debt.

Sulking in loneliness you barely noticed a white SUV pulling into their usual cut....whose this? You opened the curtains repositioning,hands in the glass knees on the jagged wood of the windowsill bench. Couldn’t be, oh but it was! You bounced like a hyperactive child, Hoseok climbed from the drivers seat handsomely waving directly at you. They all followed offering you waves and air kisses making both your stomach and heart do flips. Tumbling from the bench you run to your door eccentric to get your fix of attention, affection, friendship.

“Get back y/n, what did I say?” She was waiting for you to break her command, she knew you’d forget. “To stay in my ro-” “so why don’t you do as told for once?” You fought the bitter tears as they knocked on the door, You shuffled back into your cage of room like a kicked puppy. Shutting the door you sat on the floor compressing your ear along the hard wood.

“Ah, welcome! Come in take a seat can I get you a drink or a meal? Anything really.” She spoke with a quiver, she had nothing to pay them back with absolute zilch. “Where’s y/n?” You smiled warmly, that voice had to be Taehyung. “She’s in bed sick.” “Sick, she looked alright from the window.” Hoseok you idiot. “I’m sorry... you saw her through the window?”

“Ah Ah, we didn’t come to talk about the build of y/n’s room you know what he want.” Jin was all serous business, the room was silent. “Next month for sure.” She lied right through her teeth and they all knew it. “You said that last month, and the month before, and the month before that.” You held your breath, you hated it when they bickered she honestly didn’t have the money you two only lived in this house because it was your father’s property, and everything you got just by luck and the skin of your teeth. She simply couldn’t afford to borrow anymore, as the boys began to add impossible interest.

“Listen, we’ve let you off the hook because of your circumstances,we had a soft spot, we held you at a respect for your strength...but now the well is drying up on patience and your debt is growing into a monstrosity.” Namjoon gave his spiel

“Your husband may be dead, but honey you’re next if this money doesn’t turn up...and the plans they have for y/n aren’t cute, if you had any decency you’d get your ass off that insurance money and pay up, don’t forget you pay for protection and soon you’re going to start getting what you pay for.” Yoongi was rude whenever he came to collect, almost never staying for the excuses once ‘no’ or ‘later’ was uttered he’d head for the door, but today he decided to do otherwise.

The room fell quiet, and though your mother was cold and not much of a mother at all to you it pained you to hear her sobs and sniffing. You could tell the words being thrown at her stung her deeply. Curious to what was going on behind your door you decided to have a peak, and apparently you weren’t too good at sneaking. Your door cracked ajar, as if he knew it would happen you made direct eye contact with Taehyung.

“Boys I-I don’t know what you want from me you know the money isn’t in my possession right n-” “y/n! Come out from hiding kitten!” Opening the door you stood reading the room, your mothers face glistening, you know better than to disobey on purpose. “It’s ok y/n c’mon we want to see you.” Joon’s smile is so captivating his voice so relaxing, but your mothers gaze killed its power. “C’mon tell her she can come out.” Jin orders and your mother complies by giving you a nod of permission, sniffing over her concealed cries. It ached your but you were too excited to comfort her as you quickly escaped your confines.

“Ohh look at your pretty dress, come sit.” Taehyung pulled you onto his lap, “isn’t it pretty boys?” He pulled the fringes that decorated the bottom, barely reaching you mid thigh. “Everything’s beautiful on our y/n.” Jimin agrees, greeting you with a flirtatious wink. Making you smile into Taehyung’s chest. “Bashful girl.” His large hand rubbed your back soothingly.

“This delicate little thing around all those men with no one to help her, tsk could you imagine.” He glided his hand along your exposed thigh “that tickles.” Whispering into him you feel you face warm up. He hums in response, “want me to stop?” “No, I’ve missed you, I’ve missed all of you!” You turned catching all of their gazes, “same to you princess.” Jin chuckled, giving you a cheek kiss.

“Please let her-r go ba-ck now.” Their smiles faded, and you’d hate to admit it but yours as well. You’d usually never go against your mother but she just didn’t want to see you happy, ever. And you hated it. “Momma...I don’t wanna go back right now, can I be with my friends?” Her eyes stretched in shock and anger, the boys found your rebellion comedic letting a chuckle escape. “Y/n get back to your room now you have no clue what you’re playing with!” Her tone made you wince, no longer feeling bold you were about to comply. Taehyung griped your waist holding you back on top of him.

“And who are you to order someone around when you can’t follow orders yourself?” She sat speechless, “Taehyung, Namjoon, Jin...next month.” Her pleads were pathetic, even you knew it wouldn’t work this time. “No. Pay up today, or we’ll be taking some sweet sweet collateral.”At the moment you didn’t fully understand or care what exactly Taehyung was threatening, the only thing your brain could focus on being his rough palm griping and rubbing your inner thigh. The sensation caused a tingle within you, you couldn’t help but fidget in his lap. “Still tickling baby?” You nodded, a bit too flustered to speak.

“I-I I have a hundred or two I can give.” His hand ceased its motions, making you whine for more of the foreign feeling. He lifted a brow in suspect “You take us as a joke don’t you?” She shook her head frantically. “You just offered us not even a fraction of a year's worth of debt...you think we’re idiots, you think we won’t do what we say we will do you?” The tension made you uncomfortable as everyone glared at your mother for her response, you gripped Taehyung’s dark suit. “Hmph, okay Y/n, show us your pretty room Love.”

A simple request made your mother stand in protests, “going to get the rest of the money?” Yoongi asked knowingly, your mother trembled. Why was she so afraid, they only asked to see your room...maybe she was still upset over the wet spots. “No? Well I suggest you sit the fuck down.” Everyone left from their seat, “go on show us Petal.” He smiled in encouragement. You pulled Taehyung by his hand showing all of them into your seemingly empty room, nothing to embellish the space besides your curtains, calendar and bed.

“Very cute, very cute, right boys?” They hummed nodding while looking at the four bland walls around them. “Jungkook won’t you close the door please.” He demands the youngest, and he does as told, letting your catch a two second glance if your sniveling mother before your fate was sealed. “Lock it will you?” “Uhm it doesn’t lock.” You confessed plopping down on your plush mattress kicking your feet over the edge. “Ahh, Jungkook...make it lock.” He went to work and you watched curiously until your attention was taken by Taehyung climbing in bed next to you. “Very comfy.” He complemented.

“Oh, oh please take your shoes off.” You recited rules that were practically engraved in your memory. He laughed complying, “you heard her, shoes off.” They did as told, making your laugh at their unison actions. You turned to him with a smile still on your face, “want to see my closet?” “No, but I do want you to lay down.” You gave him an inquisitive look, you weren’t sick and you definitely weren’t tired. “It’s ok, I just wanted to play a game, a friends game.”

Oh how excited you were! A game with your friends! You laid down beside him your head rested on your pillow. “Ready?” You nodded eagerly, the rest of them watched closely. “Ok beautiful, I’m going to ask you some things and all you have to do is tell me if you’ve done it before...” he looked around at his men, they looked back with anticipation. “We’ll all play.” You nodded, beyond excited for this new experience.

“We’ll start easy, have you ever kissed someone?” Your face grew a dopey grin, “don’t be shy.” You nodded quickly, “oh? Show me how.” Sitting up a bit, you took his jaw, turning him to the side pecking his warmed cheek quickly. He smiled widely, “innocent little thing, here let’s try this.” He took your jaw in his fingers, coming in and ravishing your lips. Unknowingly you lay motionless as he took over the kiss, maneuvering you as he pleased. Pulling your slack chin he parted your lips, his tongue intruded sharing his taste. A tingle ran through you, you’ve never seen something like this let alone feel it. Taehyung pulled back trailing slobber as he lifted, “m-more more kissing!” He shook his head, laughing at your greed. “No no, there’s more to the game.”

Smirking he snuck his hand under your quaint dress, “ever let Somebody like me see your cute little panties?” You shook your head no, “let us see?” You eagerly pulled your dress up, “pretty in pink...wet your panties hmm?” Sheepishly you shut your legs, “sorry.” He rubbed your exposed tummy, “no don’t be sorry kitten, that’s great, so good.” He dragged his fingers along your pelvic area. “Yoongi, your turn?” Taehyung continued to brush your skin.

Yoongi stood from his seat on the floor in speciation. He brought his finger between your legs using his other hand to push your legs apart. “Ever felt something like this?” He ran his fingers up and down your middle, pausing along the top giving you an oddly familiar feeling that you loved. “Mm.” You moved a bit closer to the pleasure. “Yoongi stop, answer him y/n.” Nodding you yearned for yoongi’s fingers. “Don’t lie...show us.”

Rolling over you pulled a pillow from behind you positioning it between your legs as you lay on your side. “Go on.” Yoongi nudged you and you began to rub yourself, pushing the pillow firmer into your core whimpering as the pressure increased, “it feels so good!” “Naughty naughty y/n.” You continued to pleasure yourself, “mm I know, please don’t tell anybody.” Taehyung took the pillow rubbing his finger along the wet spot you left behind. “You ever cum sweetheart?” You squeeze your legs together hoping for pleasureful friction. “What’s that?”

“You’ve been rubbing yourself raw with no release?” He had a glint of pitty in his tone. “ I-I guess.” Yoongi had began his adventurous handy work once again and you couldn’t get enough. He sat beside you, looking into your eyes intently. “How’s it feel?” “Good, please don’t stop!” Taehyung pulled his partners hand away, “don’t give her too much Hyung.”

You pout squirming, itching with pent up sexual frustrations. “You both play like she’s a doll, she’s a woman, you know what she wants even if she doesn’t.” Jin came from his spot leaned against the corner, he came close stalking over your figure, “take these off.” He pulled your panties roughly you could hear the weak fabric give way as he stripped you.

“Careful.” You felt self conscious as they eyed your nude private area, Jin took over where Yoongi was removed, the direct contact could make you scream in joy, “close your eyes.” Jin ordered, and who are you to say no to the pleasure. A strange warmth took over your core making your hips jump uncontrollably “mhhm please.” “Hold her down Hoseok.” Even that simple second of neglect made you upset. Your hips were restrained and Jin continued his work, “sorry.” You opened your eyes to meet Taehyung’s gaze and a smile was plastered on his features, looking down at Jin who was kissing your privates, so strange but so amazing.

“Oh please!” You couldn’t control your moans, closing your eyes, “too good princess?” “Mm too good.” Jin removed his lips from you “you're a savage Kim.” Jungkook comments eyes glued to your core, as if he couldn’t resist the view. “Some hair shows she is healthy n’ pure , but you wouldn’t know anything about that, you like your women whorish” He comments lewdly wiping his plump lips. They stood in speculation as you pressed your thighs together desperately. “Oh please! Jin please more!” You earned a hand over your mouth. In attempts to shut your pathetic whines. “Please don’t hurt her!” Your mother beat the door with concern. “Does she sound hurt, don’t make us do something we don’t want to, now go away!” Taehyung growled, before leaving the bed, he undid his pants the respect in you made you look away. “Ever see this before?” He climbed over you, too cowardly to peak, you kept looking into his dark irises. “Your private?” He laughed in your face, “my cock?” He sat on your legs trapping you. He pulled your dress over your head, fully undressing you with ease.

Taken over my temptation, Jimin groped your clothed chest “don’t touch her.” His command was final, Taehyung had been taken by the monster of greed and lust. “Go on look y/n.” Your eyes slowly traveled down, he had himself in his clutches stroking squeezing at the tip collecting the strange ooze on the tips of his fingers. Reaching he glossed your lips with his juices, “never wear makeup, this is all you need pretty girl.” The smell was strong and musky, curious you took a taste, sweaty and sweet. “Greedy girl...you know where this belongs?” He tapped you with his erect cock.

“I don’t think so.” He nodded, reaching below himself without hesitation he penetrated you with his index. “Ouch Tae!” His eyes stretched in surprise, “that hurts? Oh what fun you’ll be.” His finger stretched you slightly as he explored, thrusting softly, curly at the knuckle. Pulling his finger back, and a thick stripe of cloudy grool connects the two of you. “Shit, would you look at that.” They came looking as you lay victim Yoongi had pulled himself from his pants stroking himself shamelessly. Hoseok unbuttoned his top, his fist buried in his pants, while Jimin palmed himself giving you a warm smile, while Jungkook sat timid away from the action and Jin’s face set stoney, seemingly uninterested. Namjoon being the false comfort he was, he stood close, his bulge in your face as he stroked your hair.

Out of breath, the best you could muster being, “I’m sorry if it’s gross.” Lustfully he used your nectar to stroke himself sensually making violent eye contact in the act.

“Stop apologizing, this is the best cunt I’ve ever seen.” Using his foreign vulgar vocabulary he moved back, using his hands to get a better view of your most personal area. “Oh honey, you’ve never had anything in this sweet pussy of yours huh?” You shook your head, “no never.” You whisper. “Let’s change that yeah? Will you be a big girl?” You nodded body full of utter curiosity, what was coming for you the last thing you could have fathomed.

“Mm, you’re the sweetest thing on Earth y/n” he gazed into you, looking your shivering body up and down as if you two were completely alone. He lowered himself distracting you with another one sided kiss, this time though you attempted to participate.

Little did you know his hidden agenda, he gripped his girthy member, massaging it along your slickening core in search of your small entrance. “Ah Ah Taehyungie!” You squealed against his lips. He’d barely pushed into you and the pain was prominent “shh shh wouldn’t want to make momma upset.” He paused and looked down at your slightly connecting bodies. “Hmm Let’s play another game.” He reached for the pillow you were pleasuring yourself on, he placed it over your face constricting your air in the process, muffling your pathetic whimpers and mewls.

In one violent action...“TEAHYUNG!” Your throat felt as if it would collapse,He forced himself into your constructing entrance ripping your walls you felt yourself struggle to become accustomed his size. His pace inhuman. You gasped for air,the pillow blocking any gasp you could get. “I can’t breathe! I can’t breathe Tae!” He kept his murderous stroke speed pulling the pillow from your face you heaved, sobbing, screaming begging for freedom. “Shut the fuck up!” It could’ve been the tears, or haze of pain, but this wasn’t your friend anymore.

Taehyung’s face as contorted in sick pleasure inconsiderate of your wellbeing he gripped your hips fucking into you aggression never seen before. “T-Tae please we’re friends don’t hurt me!” You cried out for his mercy. “Hold her fucking mouth Min.” He obliged, his hand slick from his own juices. He stood over you griping and jerking his member, keeping his eyes on yours. “Close your damn eyes, your crying is going to make me soft.” That only made you cry more, the treatment you were getting from Taehyung caused an ache you couldn’t help but sob from. “It i-it fucking hurts!” You let the filth spill from your mouth as you groaned with every thrust, your statement muffed by Yoongi’s palm.

“Close. Them. Now.” Stubbornly you kept staring, you won’t obey them, friends aren’t supposed to to hurt you, ever. “Ahh fuck.” Yoongi began to vandalize your face, removing his hand from your mouth pulling your hair to aim for your mouth. “Ah shit shit.” He continued to stroke grumbling heinous names under his breath. “My eyes please help me momma,it hurts momma!” He’d spurted right in your eye and he knew it. “I told you to close them idiotic bitch, you obey us you’ll be alright.” He took your discarded panties wiping your eye.

You didn’t listen to his angered grumblings...She didn’t respond, she left you to suffer, you were being naughty and she could hear and she left you to suffer. The pain in your eye became dull as you became numb to Taehyung’s assault. “She left you, that bitch left you in here to get fucked, and you’re going to take everything we give thanks to mommy dearest...no one is going to rescue you.” Yoongi growled I’m your ear, you turned from him. His seed still rests on your pained features.

Taehyung pushed his thumbs roughly into your abdomen making you cry out. “Your cunt is still so tight, mm fuck stop clenching like that- I’m gonna fucking- oh shit.” He sent his seed deep into you, the sensation was sickening you began to dry heave having nothing in you to throw up. “Throwing up sweetheart?” You ignored his false concern, he gripped your hair. “Think twice before you do, you’ll be cleaning it with that pretty mouth every drop.”

Your face drenched in tears, snot and slobber, and the seed of another, you lay in defeat. He pulled his member for your stinging and burning feeling settled between your legs. “Nice job, you’ve beat her bloody.” Jin grumbled coming near, your entrance oozed a mixture of his cum and blood from your lost innocents. His finger brushed against your puffy injured vulva, “please no no nooo!” You instinctively backed away from the contact.

“My turn princess.” Your eyes closed, you could tell it was Jimin planning his attack. “Please Jimin, you’re still my friend right?” You Sobbed to weakly to even look into his eyes, Jimin had to put an end to it or it wouldn’t end at all. “I treat all my girlfriends this way, hm don’t worry baby it won’t hurt-” you heard him wander closer, “just open up.” You refused, turning your head away from his voice, “Ah y/n don’t be that way.” He slightly scolded pulling you back his way by your jaw, “open your mouth y/n.” You opened your eyes, glaring at him, your right eye blurring and irritated. He rubbed his member along your pursed lips. “No?” He leaned over, his member in his over hand. “Open. The. Fuck! Up.” He slapped your pussy harshly with every word, already sore you cried out, begging for mercy.

He took the opportunity, plunging his cock down your throat, gagging you choked and cried. “Yah stupid Bitch watch your teeth!” He gripped the back of your head, another agonizing ordeal. Your throat was sore from the screaming and now your throat was being rubbed roughly by Jimin’s third leg. “I’m gonna c-cum, and you’re gonna swallow all of it and you’re gonna keep it down.”

You couldn’t protest, you got used just as before you closed your eyes and prayed for it to be over as quick as it started. Hoseok neared you like a predator, “careful she’s sore.” You opened your eyes quickly, he had his pants completely off, his member erect his shirt open his sculpted body on display. You sobbed around jimins member as he took his time fucking himself into you. “I’m not putting my prick I that mess.” He referred to your battered entrance, he placed his clock between your folds, rubbing himself their. Even the subtle pressure gave you discomfort, “hey! Watch those fucking teeth slut!” Jimin beat the back of your head, picking up his pace.

“She sounds so fucking nasty.” Namjoon pulled himself out of his trousers “choking and gagging, fucking whore I wouldn’t fuck you even if your mom offered all the money she owed.” Namjoon insulted, pulling closer, “what an asshole.” Jimin grunted in retaliation. “This is all you’ll get from me.” Namjoon leaned over you, assaulting you relieving himself on your quaking body. “You sick bastard!” They found Namjoon’s action sickly humorous. He moved to your face, you tried to stop breathing in fear of inhaling it. Warmly it dribbled over you. “I bet you fucking enjoyed it.”

Jimin pushed your damp head down on him as he exploded in your mouth, that scene being all he needed to find his high. His seed was salty and less sweet; he tasted repulsive. You gagged as he removed himself, you leaned over the bed in utter pain heaving. “AHT HEY!” Taehyung cupped your mouth, “swallow be a good girl.” He rolled you back, you tried but your body refused, you gagged against his musty palm. Jimin pinched your nose “take it, take it, take it!” Air became scarce, you gulped ingesting his warm seed, the taste blanketed your throat.

They let you breathe, Hoseok found his release on your tummy, scooping it with his agile fingers he force fed you. “Please...n-no...more.” “Shut up, your breath reeks.” Your stomach flipped, you were going to be sick soon. “Roll her over.” Jin instructed, and of course they followed you let them do as they please, not like you could stop them. “Your pussy is beautiful, but I love a nice ass.” He unbuckled his belt, letting his pants fall. Spitting vulgarly, stroking himself. “Bite the pillow.” He pulled you up by your waist. Using his thumb he rimmed you.

Getting positioned he spit on your hole. The room was quiet. “Bite it hard.” He pushed himself mercilessly barely breaking through, “tight little bitch.” Your screeching earsplitting You’d become unconscious soon the pain was excruciating, you knew you were bleeding. “Please! I’ll do anything!Please not this, no more of this!” Finally he bottomed you out, “this is what love feels like, hmph remember that.” Jin growled fucking into you barely able to keep a pace.

Your vision blurred, slurring was your only form of speaking back, covered in piss and cum, tears and snot. Drooling all over yourself like an imbecile, bleeding. They’ve used you out, good for nothing you fell into the void of unconsciousness, sweet relief.

A dull jabbing welcomed you back into the real world, no way was this some sort of twisted dream the disgusting smell registered back into your senses. The smell was you. “Fucking hell Jungkook finish already.” You’d been sick all over the mattress in your sleep, your mouth stale and stiff.

“I’m so sorry y/n I’m so sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry!” Blinking you looked over your shoulder, tears streamed his rounded face. “Ugh so sorry.” He gagged looking at your abused figure covered in bodily grime. “P-please turn around so it can be over.” Pitying you he held his head down shamefully thrusting to unwanted orgasm. He too filled you warmly pulling out quickly, scurrying to the corner losing his breakfast. “H-hy-'' he retched again. “Let’s go please, let’s leave.” He begged holding his stomach, Jungkook is still your friend, right? You could see he didn’t want to hurt you...

They put their clothes back on lazily.

“Be a peach and tell your mother we’ll be back next month on the dot, hopefully you won’t have to cover her tab two visits in a row huh sweetheart?”

“I hate you, all of you.”

“Ah, but we love you, and we always will.”

(Not my photo)

(Please interact like•reblog•reply it helps sm!)

@minshookie

1K notes · View notes

hhhecates · 3 years

Text

Jujutsu Kaisen Second Years Headcanons

• Inumaki can either binge watch YouTube or an entire anime for the entire night and run on 10 minutes of sleep, one carton of strawberry milk and be ready to challenge God on a pokèmon match, or need his 8 hours of beauty sleep and if someone dares to wake him before 10, they're just not coming back alive, sorry;

• On this account, the rest of the second years play rock, paper, scissors every day to decide who's gonna be the victim the one waking inumaki up;

• Side note, the first time it happened, Maki was 100% done already and thought they were just being stupid, she made the grave mistake of just barging into inumaki's room unannounced and girl came back traumatized. From that day on, rock, paper, scissors moments are taken very seriously;

• They all collectively share one braincell, they are super reliable on their own, but put even two of them together and see the braincell disappear. It's also twice as bad if inumaki is involved. Man can turn reliable senpai okkotsu into a menace (and it's megumi's biggest nightmare tbh);

• However, it's three times as bad if it's yuuta and inumaki with maneater!reader, nobody knows how their sense of responsibility all completely vanishes, but it does, and then you get OP children roaming free, and they're not just ready to fight God, but to become him;

• Maki is probably the most responsible one of the bunch (arguably, it would actually be yuuta or reader, but man is too tired and most of the times too soft, and reader just doesn't give a fuck);

• However, the roles quickly reverse when maki isn't taking good care of herself (which is often, cause girl is just that stubborn and focused on training) and then she'll turn into the whiniest baby and yuuta and reader become literally her parents,,, example;

• "Maki, eat your veggies" "Not doing that, they taste like fucking grass, I'm not a cow" "... Alright then, good luck finding your junk food in the cabinet then" cue maki begrudgingly eating her veggies because she knows better than to try yuuta and reader;

• Also girl will literally forget to drink water and even when she does drink, it's always energy drinks or sodas, and it's an unspoken agreement between second years to switch out her water bottles (filled with soda) with one that actually contains water;

• We all know that Panda and Inumaki are a dangerous duo, but have you considered Panda and reader?? The two of them are unarguably the two smartest students at Jujutsu High, and you know what they also are? Completely merciless. They will play mind games on you for fun and laugh at you if you cry;

• Yuuta is reader's bestfriend, and inumaki is a close call too, but if asked reader will always say that maki is their bestfriend because it makes the other two sulk adorably. Maki will then proceed to say that her favourite though is Panda, which will make reader just look at her with the most betrayed and affronted pout on their face, and tbh it's a sight too rare to pass up. Really though, they're all each other's bestfriend, the second years are a super tight group and consider each other family;

• During their first year, reader was the tallest of the bunch (aside from Panda), but after Yuuta comes back from his year overseas, he grew to be almost as tall as Gojo and reader legitimately didn't speak to him for two days cause they were a n g r y. Please, inumaki had so much fun seeing reader so frustrated sksksks. But poor yuuta genuinely thought they were angry at him (don't worry though, they quickly made up, reader couldn't stay away from yuuta if they fucking tried to);

• Now though, reader always walks on their tip toes around him or wears platform shoes and yuuta finds it so fucking precious, but please don't tell reader or he'll get bOnKeD;

• Reader, Inumaki and Panda have anime nights together in toge's room (man has the biggest room out of everyone too) yuuta will come at 3 am to tell them to go to sleep but he ends up joining, maki yells at them but ends up joining too;

• Maki is the most obnoxious cuddler when sleepy or tired (she will deny it tho, so don't bring it up unless you wanna get smackedd) and she will cling onto reader like her life depends on it because reader gives her head scratches and plays with her hair (pliz, maki and reader are so soft for each other);

• Yuuta and reader unconsciously hold pinkies when they are out in a crowd because they both have social anxiety and find lots of comfort in each other;

• Inumaki and reader always go to the convenience store together to get snacks at like 1 am, most of the times they successfully drag along maki too with the promise of junk food, and then they get lost in the ailes having a competition about who finds the weirdest flavour of chips or smth;

• When yuuta is overseas, the rest of the second years videocall him every night (or every week, depending on how long his missions are) it's the most chaotic calls too and it makes yuuta laugh so hard.

I honestly have sooo many more of these,,, I just love the second years too much--

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scarletwidowaf · 3 years

Text

broadway, baby. (part 1)

Florence pugh x female Reader

Summery: reader is a singing waitress in a new York restaurant (like in glee) where many famous people go to, and one night the little women cast are are there and R is their waitress.

Warnings: there's some cursing and harassment. Its not revolve around it but its there.

A\N: im soft for florence pugh and this is a complete shit.

masterlist

Credits: Glee Gif Credit • Florence Gifs Credit

“I'm just a Broadway Baby, walking off my tired feet, Pounding Forty Second Street to be in a show. Broadway Baby, learning how to sing and dance, waiting for that one big chance to be in a show.” - Cast of follies

Life can be hard and some days can be rough, especially in your line of work where people competed for the spotlight on a daily basis. but that's life and that’s the road you chose to walk through. And it's alright, after all, what's life without a spark? A movie without a breaking point? or a shift at Clayton's without drama?

This was one of these days, the kind of days who kept you on an edge as your body and mind both ached for a break.

'Just roll with it. just a few hours for your day off.' You silently said to yourself.

Being a young artist in New York was a challenge you’ve taken on yourself, luckily for you working at "Clayton's" was a good way to start a career. most people who started working there were young talented artist who were determined to make an impression over the industry. The place was always packed with many famous people, from actors to singers and producers. So, in many ways, working in "Clayton's" could be a ticket to Broadway or the music industry. And that was the reason you moved there in the first place.

You tried the traditional way, but after months of trying to get into college and fix your past mistakes, like your high school career, you decided that this path wasn’t for you. no matter what you did or how hard you tried your ADHD still managed to kick your ass. So, that’s how you ended up as a singing waitress in NY. You liked your job, truly. You liked singing and dancing and meeting cool people along the way, but sometimes it was just too much.

"You look like shit" Aaron said from his spot at the bar.

Aaron was a sweet guy and probably the only straight person in your group of friends. He was charming and talented and most importantly; he was the first friend you got in NY.

Aaron pulled his long brown hair into a bun as he chuckled at you. You huffed in frustration in return.

"Thanks" you muttered as he passes you a mug with coffee, hoping to help you get a grip before the restaurant opens.

"You need to rest" he said. "properly"

"that’s overrated" you joked and took a sip.

You felt an hand on your shoulder and you turned around to meet your friend's stern gaze. "You, okay?" she asked

"Always" you answered Mackenzie's question and she raised her eyebrow, knowing full well you were lying.

"we should sing as a warm up!" David, another one of your coworkers and Aaron's twin brother said.

"Let's not" Aaron said as he rolled his eyes at his brother's enthusiasm.

You laughed quietly as the two started bickering. Mack and you glanced at each other knowingly. Both of you already know who will win in the stupid argument.

15 minutes later, after a group warm up and Aaron's dramatic sighs 'Clayton's' was open for business.

It was a nice evening, not too full, not too loud. And most importantly, not too many known faces.

Of course, you liked to have famous people on your shifts, and it could obviously be a game changer for you but it can get intense at times and you want in the mood. Seriously, how can you be the only one who found singing "defying gravity' in font of Idina Menzel as a very stressful experience?? You were terrified by the idea you'll fuck up in front of the original singer- and make a total fool out of yourself.

When 10 pm rolled around, every opinion you had about the evening flew out the window. at this point, the restaurant was full with costumers and some known faces as well, and you found yourself holding every inch of you together as you approach the table who was occupied by the one and only Meryl Streep, and some fellow little women cast members.

*rule number 1 of working at Clayton's: don't make costumers feel uncomfortable. Don't annoy the costumers, don't ask for autographs if they're famous and generally treat them as normal and respectfully as you can. *

"Hello, my name is Y/N and ill be your waitress for tonight" you introduced yourself with a small smile. The women smiled at you brightly.

"How does it work" Meryl held the tablet with a puzzled expression. "Am I that old?" She joked

"Barley" One of the other women, Emma fucking Watson, said.

"I know it looks complicated-" you told them as you took the tablet from Meryl's hand."-But it's pretty simple, actually, I promise. As you can see the top part of the tablet is divided into two sections: The right one who says 'ask for a waiter'- which means that your waiter- which in this case, me, is busy- probably performing at the moment, and you can ask for a different waiter." You said with an ease, knowing the explanation by heart.

"The left section says 'ask for my waiter' which is a pretty simple one to understand... I guess- if you'll need me for whatever reason, you can press it and it'll page me. Feel free to use it." You said with a smile as you scanned their faces, making sure they understand the first part.

"And the bottom section?" Saoirse asked.

"The bottom section is the 'refill' sections. It will get into validation only after ill place your order in my own tablet and send to the kitchen." You explained as you gestured to your own tablet. "It's pretty useful, the point of it is that you can ask for a refill without having to social with me. Its awesome"

You noticed one of them, Florence pugh, scanning the tablet with a small smile- as she listened to your explanation. She was absolutely a sight for sore eyes, that's for sure.

"Thats pretty cool" she said and you nodded in agreement.

"Yeah, I got really excited over it when I started working here" you admitted awkwardly "most importantly- When a section isn't relevant its will be grey instead of in color so you won't get confused. Like, for example - if You haven't ordered anything yet you can't get a refill, for the obvious reason. or if I'm not performing you can't ask for another waiter... which means you're stuck with me for the time being" you finished with a small chuckle.

"I don't think any of us mind that" Florence smiled and the others agreed. The blonde smiled at you again and you blushed slightly. "You're singing, right?" she asked out of the blue, just when you were about to leave and let them look through their menus.

"Yeah, i do. In a few minutes, actually"

"Thats cool! Good luck" she smiled and you wondered if Emma, who set the closest to you, could hear how fast your heart's beating.

"Thank you" you said with a smile and turned around to the stage.

__________________

"you paged? I'm guessing you guys ready to order then" You said as you approached their table after your performance.

"YOU WERE SO GODD!" Florence said excitedly.

"Thank you" you blushed slightly.

What. The. Fuck. Y/N?! You scolded yourself.

The others joined into the conversation with their own compliments and you thought you'd die when Meryl Streep, the legend herself, complimented you.

After another few moments the conversation calmed downed and moved to the next, and most important topic: the food. You tried your best to not blush under Florence's soft gaze and keep your focus on the other members of her table as they consulted you about the dishes, but damn, that was hard. luckily for you it didn’t take long and a few minutes later, their order was sent to the kitchen.

The next hour and a half weren't much different. you sang and placed orders, you smiled to costumers and even pretend to laugh at some old man's joke. And maybe (just maybe) you glanced over to Florence every now and then.

The thing about Clayton's is that apart for the famous people who visit there frequently, it also contains many of the rich and the snobs of New York, so you weren't surprised when you got paged from a table who was occupied by two guys with fancy clothes and their parents credit card.

"Hey" one of them said to you as you approached them.

"hey, welcome to Clayton's! You're David's table, right?" You said and pointed at your friend who started his own performance.

"Yeah, the fag one" the other guy said and your smile fell.

Take a deep breath, Y/N. It's not worth it.

"I see you guys already ordered a few minutes ago" you said as you checked your tablet.

"Yeah" the asshole confirmed.

"Okay, in that case, how can I help you?" You asked politely as you could.

"we would like to get the check." The first guy said politely as he pulled out a few bills from his wallet. "Keep the change" he said as you took it and made sure it was enough.

"Thank you" you smiled politely and made a mental note to give David his well-earned tip.

"my brother want to know if you're single" the asshole said and the nicer guy looked at his with his eyes wide.

Shit.

"I'm sorry, I'm in a relationship" you lied after a moment, hoping the lie will spare both his feeling and any more questions in the subject.

The guy nodded in understanding but on the other hand, the other guy didn’t seem to get the massage.

"I'm sure he won't mind sharing" the asshole said and you felt sorry for the poor guy for being related to this ass.

"What the fuck Chad" the nice guy said as chad smirked at you.

"yeah... that’s not going to happen." You glared at him "have a great weekend tho" you gritted out and turned around to leave.

you were taken by surprise when you felt chad's hand on your ass. Again, what the fuck?!

"What the fuck is wrong with you' asshole" you gritted out and moved away from him.

Don't make a scene. He's not worth it.

"C'mon-" he started to say as he got up. You moved away, knowing you were cornered since the place was full, the lights were deemed and the music was loud.

"Don't touch me" you said and moved away; you're back hitting an empty table who stood nearly.

"Hey what's going on here?" You heard and turned to catch Florence walking to you.

If a look could kill chad would’ve been dead. that’s for sure. It's like the sweet and excited Florence had left and a different, intimidating (and hot) version of her took her space and so help you god, you were glad she was on your side.

"Nothing! we were just leaving, really" Frankie said.

"None of your business" brad said and Florence raised her perfectly shaped eyebrow, daring him to cross her.

"I see" she said "well, I'm sure y/n won't mind my intruding"

'Thank god for Florence Pugh.' You thought.

Before chad could press the subject any further David, who just finished his performance, got there. You were sure he noticed that something was happening.

"what's going on here?" he asked after he scanned the situation quickly.

"nothing as I said to your friend, we were just leaving" Frankie said again.

he didn’t want to draw any negative attention, just like you, and thankfully for the both of you, not many people noticed the situation.

This time chad didn't answer, he just glared at Florence and you while his brother pulled him away from the place.

"so, are you going to tell me what happened?" David asked Florence and you after the two left.

Florence looked at you, waiting for you to answer him.

"Nothing" you lied. "it's okay David, you can go" you promised your friend. David looked at you with his 'I done believe you' expression, but he didn't press it any further. He just nodded before he turned around and left.

Rule number 2: do not make a scene under no circumstances. At Clayton's, everything you do while you're on the clock is practically showcased. You slip? you fall? you sing out of tune? Its under a spotlight, everyone can see that and everyone will have something to say about it. Thats the thing about this place. most people who started there and moved on to bigger things as Broadway or Hollywood were practically trained to keep their best poker face, act on the demand or pretend that everything is okay when it was clearly not.

"You should go back to your table" you said to Florence

she looked at you with an unreadable expression before she went back to her table. You didn't have much time to read into it since a few minutes later you found yourself at her table, printing their check and having a small friendly conversation with the women. You smiled at them as they left before you turned your tablet off and went to cover for Aaron at the bar.

"I thought you guys left" You said with a smile when the blonde approached you a few minutes later.

"Why did you lie?" Florence asked with the same unreadable expression from earlier.

Okay. No smiling then.

"I didn’t" you pulled out two shot glasses and filled them with tequila. The blonde gave you a 'are you kidding me' kind of look and you couldn't help but to chuckle. "I didn't see a reason to make a scene over nothing" you explained and downed one of the shots.

"It wasn't nothing Y/N" she said before taking the other glass.

"its fine. I'm fine. He didn’t do anything " you said as she downed her shot.

"Yeah, because I was there" she argued.

"I can handle guys like him. Seriously, at this point it might as well be a part of my job"

"you're not helping yourself"

"I liked you better smiling" you chuckled as she glared at you.

"I'm sure you did"

"shut up"

"How's your back?" She asked/

The blonde definitely didn't seem convinced about the chad situation but you were just grateful for the change of subject.

"It will be alright"

"Good"

"I appreciate your worry, truly. But I'm fine and I really don't want to hold you back here over it" you said

"Who said I was worried" she smirked at you with a raised eyebrow.

"Uh, you don't?" You played along

"Nope"

"Then why are you still here? Its almost 12 am, don't you have something better to do" you teased her

"no. Do you?" She turned the question and you laughed.

"I guess not - considering the fact I work here and I'm still on clock"

"Oh, please we both know this place is about to close" she argued your logic

"True" you admitted

"So, if you have nothing better to do, and you don't, would you like to go out with me? You kinda owe me after I saved your ass earlier"

"Uh, and here I thought you did that as an act of kindness" you joked. A small smile playing on your lips.

"Ew no" she said and You laughed. "Well?" Florence pressed with a cheeky smile.

"Yeah, why not. It's not like I have something better to do"

"Just what I wanted to hear" she joked.

#florence pugh #florence pugh x reader #florence pigh x female reader #florence pugh x fem!reader

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hpdabbles · 3 years

Text

Secret Sweater Sweetheart

"Who exactly is R. Lupin?" Sirius demanded standing in his brother's doorway. He attempted to imitate Uncle Alphard, when the man was displeased, hoping the wide stance with the cross arms gave the same feeling of guilt.

If there was one thing he learned after his uncle gain guardship over them was that Uncle Alphard could weaponize guilt like no other. Sirius had never felt bad about letting down an authority figure until the man stood before him in the position.

"What?" Regulus's words slur as he tries to blink the sleep out of his eyes. Not a surprise seeing as Sirius made sure to wait until their uncle went to bed before comforting his little brother.

The man just happened to stay up until three in the morning but needs must.

"You heard me. R. Lupin. Who is he?" Sirius grabs the offensive clothing he discovered while his brother had been away earlier that day. It had been pushed under Regulus's bed, towards the wall, next to a potions textbook and a ripped sock. Sirius had seen it when he went about, picking up all the random clothes threw through the mess of a bedroom.

Despite adoring Kreacher in their old home, Regulus had never been tidy and the fact their uncle didn't believe in owning house-elves meant the brothers had to clean up after themselves. Sirius did the house laundry every Wednesday, which just so happen to be the day his little brother went to his muggle violin classes.

"Sirius, did you seriously wake me up to ask about a sweater?" The teen groans. "This is my summer break, the point of it is that I get to sleep!"

"Oh! So now you're worried about sleeping? When you sneak a boy into your room, you don't worry about sleeping then do you!?" He accused giving the hideous striped abominations a few shakes.

Regulus threw him the finger, rolling his eyes. "I didn't sneak Remus-"

"So his name is Remus!"

"-into my room. We were in muggle London, and it got cold. I forgot a coat so he lent me his sweater. That's it." The seventeen-year-old finishes not paying mind to the interruption. "We have the same violin teacher and had a class together since she doubled booked by accident"

"A likely story!" Sirius growled pacing inside the room, feeling like his animagus form that he perfected two years ago. It earned him a top score on his Transfiguration final project at Ilvermorny, enough to make him the best student of his year. A side effect of being a dog animagus was that its protective streak tended to blend into his human side. "If he wasn't a secret boyfriend why was his sweater hidden instead of returned hmm?"

"Because I thought I lost it and bought him a replacement. Hoesntly Sirius, you're making a big deal at of nothing." Regulus grumbled.

"Right, I'm making a big deal out of you calling this Remus by his first name, and keeping his sweater with his name stitched into the tag, am I?" Sirius barked, his words just the bit off of a growl "The person you happen to met once at a violin practice because your teacher double-booked?"

"I never said I met him at practice. I just happen to run into him there."

"Oh! Pardon me, I'm getting that one detail wrong. Where did you meet the secret sweetheart that you've been sneaking into the house behind Uncle's Alphad's back then?"

Regulus rubbed a hand down his face sighing as if this wasn't a valid thing to be worried about. Not only was he too young to bring boys over like this, especially with non the wiser, but if Uncle Alphard found he could become angry.

The man hasn't had a reason to seen them back to their parents yet but what if this was it. What he realized that he had made a mistake in taking in Sirius and Regulus when Sirius had come running to him all those years ago.

Yes, it's been nine years, but Sirius sometimes still wakes in the middle of the night, drenched in a cold sweat and his mother's voice haunting his nightmares screaming Crucio again and again.

His uncle may have felt bad for him then, a sobbing ten-year-old whose rain-drenched body kept shaking from the pain, and he may have taken his parents to court just to raise them both but that didn't mean he couldn't change his mind.

Uncle Alphard is a free spirit, Magic knows he had no idea what to do with kids, so Sirius always feared one day he would grow tired of them and send them back.

He would not survive if he ever went back. The very idea of being around his birth parents or anything connecting to them sends him into such a panic he tended to stop breathing correctly.

He had a meltdown when they bought his first wand because Ollivander made the mistake of telling him it was the perfect kind for a future Slytherin. A Slytherin, just like them.

Hogwarts was not an option for him.

Uncle Alphard had instead arranged for Sirius to study overseas, while Regulus requested to remain in Scotland. He didn't see his brother that much throughout the year but that didn't stop Sirius from fearing for his brother's chastity.

Who cares if he was technically a legal adult? Regulus is sensitive and easy to trick. Sirius knows what kind of boys tend to sniff around someone so innocent.

"Siri, seriously there is nothing going on between Remus and me. I call him by his first name because we went to Hogwarts together and were part of the same study group. I don't see him that often anymore since he graduated."

"How long ago did he graduate?" Sirius barked.

"Two years. Same as you."

"I thought your study group was kids from the Slug Club?" Sirius narrows his eyes when his brother huffs again.

"Remus was in the Slug Club."

"Then why was he studying with people two years younger? Shouldn't he been one of the smartest the school had to offer?"

"Remus was the tutor!"

"A likely story!"

Regulus threw his hands into the air "I can't talk to you when you're like this. It's way too late for you to be barging into my room like some lunatic. Look, if it bothers you that much I'm meeting up with Remus tomorrow at a cafe and you can meet him. Once you do, you'll realize why I wouldn't date the bloke, okay?"

"Oh, you bet I'm going to meet him!"

Sirius had been confident that he would scare that creep so he marched right out of his brother's room. He sleeps for a little while but once he was up at six he prepared to intimate. Grabbing the leather jacket with spikes, the knuckle braces, and the steel boots he gave his reflection a no-good hooligan a smirk, knowing the sweater-wearing violist may have a heart attack when he saw him

Regulus let him know at breakfast he would be meeting Remus at nine so Sirius left before him sending an owl to Remus Lupin, claiming the time charged to eight.

He picked the table least likely to be seen by anyone in the cafe and instructed the waitress to lead the man to him.

The asshole was late by ten minutes which did not make Sirius like him any more than he already did. Who knew you could go further than rock bottom?

"Are you Sirius Black?" A voice asks politely. Sirius turns his murderous glare upwards only to promptly chock on his spite.

A man around his age with soft brown hair, multiple face scars, and a jean jacket raised an eyebrow at him. He was smoking a cigrate, that somehow went nicely with the steel tip boots he was wearing.

His outfit looks raggy and mismatch, as if though the man slept on the street. The fact it was clean let him know it wasn't a homeless approaching him but rather someone who chooses to look like a mess on purpose.

He looked like a hooligan, not the type that Regulus usually goes for, but Sirius certainly did. Too bad his brother already beat him to the punch. Damn.

"Yes, I am. And you are?"

"Remus Lupin. I-"

"Are you fucking my brother?"

The bloke blinks. "No."

"Are you lying?"

Lupin frowns at him in a way that promises pain. Sirius feels a shiver run up his spine that is bother fear and anticipation. "No."

"Alright. Just know I'm on to you, secret sweater sweetheart." Of course the other would lie. Sirius isn't that dumb.

"What did you just call me?" Lupin looked utterly bewildered as the dangerous tone of his voice disappearing in his confusion.

"Sit. We have much to discuss."

It was an hour later when Regulus arrived that Sirius noticed the time went by faster than he thought it would. Somehow, the two ended up talking about themselves instead of Remus' relationship with Regulus, caught up in the pleasant company Remus turn out to be.

Sirius hasn't had this much fun with another person in so long he almost forgot to intimate him. He would just have to see the Gryffindor again it seemed.

#Hpdabbles #Secret Sweater Sweetheart #Wolfstar #Misunderstandings #Sirius is a protective brother #Remus is just confused #Regulus just wants to sleep #Au where Uncle Alphard took in the Black brothers

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knickynoo · 3 years

Note

I loved your recent post about Marty and his ADHD! It was soo spot on. And, I saw in the tags that you mentioned Alex Keaton and how you believe he’s not neurotypical either. Care to elaborate? Do you have any headcanons about neurodivergent™ Alex? I’d love to hear your thoughts! :)

Oh, hey, thank you! Marty having ADHD seems to be one of the most common headcanons in the fandom, so that post was a lot of fun to work on.

As far as Alex goes...yes, I will elaborate, BUT I'm putting it under a cut because ya girl is really going to E L A B O R A T E.

I've mentioned before that I think Alex's overall personality/demeanor comes from a variety of different places. Some parts of who he is are likely caused by all the pressure put on him to be a high achiever, due to being so academically gifted from a young age. Other parts are due to being overly coddled and spoiled by Elyse and Steven. Still, there's probably a part of Alex that genuinely enjoys being difficult and getting a rise out of people. Then, there's the obvious anxiety he struggles with, which even MJF has talked about in some interviews when discussing how he approached playing a guy like Alex.

"Giftedness" & anxiety are already included under the umbrella of neurodiversity but in Alex's case, I actually think there's even more to it than that. Yeah, Alex is a funny character whose actions/words are so often played for laughs. He can also be a really irksome character when he's dishing out the sarcasm and being selfish. But I also can't help but look at Alex and think, This guy is just so not NT and he is struggling, somebody Help Him. And since Alex P. Keaton is one of my favorite characters AND I love to analyze/ do deep dives AND the topic of neurodiversity is a particularly strong interest of mine... well, here you go....

Mans is autistic.

• Difficulty with social cues and "reading the room". Seriously, there are so many instances of everyone around him all being on the same page about something or dealing with something serious, and Alex walks in and just proceeds to miss every single cue people throw his way. Two scenes that pop into my head, in particular, are the Reflective Pajamas one and the Clam Puff one, lol.

• He frequently struggles with putting himself in other people's shoes: Alex is certainly shown to be a compassionate person. He can recognize when people are hurting and will do the right thing, but sometimes he needs some help to get there. It seems that a lot of the time, all he knows is how he feels or thinks about something, and it doesn't occur to him that another person could be experiencing it differently. Then, once Steven, Elyse, Ellen, etc, break the situation down for him and explicitly say things like, Hey, that person's feelings are hurt because... or Here is the exact reason this person is angry... Alex is finally able to connect the dots, which usually leads to him being like, I hadn't ever thought about that/ I didn't mean it. (Of course, there are also times where Alex is just purposely being a jerk, but I'm not focusing on those)

• Specific, intense interests: Politics & economics, obviously. It's made well-known that Alex has been completely fixated on these two areas since he was a toddler. He's prone to enthusiastic, overly detailed discourse on the topics and either doesn't care or can't pick up on when people are growing bored at listening to him.

• Also, can we talk about how it's established that Alex's favorite toy as a little kid was a box? Like, he carried it everywhere, played with it, slept with it, and was devastated when it fell apart. Idk, I know kids can be attached to random objects, but it's just interesting that Alex is noted as having been enamored with a box. I'm just picturing little Alex, ignoring all the toys he has in favor of just sitting and staring at a box, and his parents are like, Yeah, this is normal.

• Highly intelligent, bordering on genius/prodigy (He was doing long-division at like, 3 years old) but has difficulty connecting with peers & making friends: This is most prominently shown in "A, My Name is Alex," where we see glimpses of various events in his childhood. In the scene where Alex meets Greg, we learn that Alex spends recess inside, helping the teacher plan her lessons rather than going out to socialize with his classmates. He's bewildered at Greg's invitation to come play, meaning he likely spent the majority of his childhood on his own due to being considered an outcast by his peers and just generally relating more easily to adults. (He also mentions taking night classes at a local college at age SEVEN. So like. If the long-division story and night class thing are taken to be actual facts of Alex's childhood...we're looking at something similar to hyperlexia/hypernumeracy here. This kid must have been bored out his mind having to sit through elementary school if he was that advanced)

• Very literal at times/ misses sarcasm: Interestingly enough, APK is very fond of being sarcastic but doesn't do so well when he's on the receiving end of it. Someone will make a joke or spin the sarcasm towards him for once, and he'll either just stare blankly like ???? or smile/thank them and they're like, Yeah, that wasn't a compliment, or, I was kidding.

• Black and white/ inflexible thinking: This might be the biggest one. Alex is super concerned with rules and ensuring that everyone is following them correctly. There's right and there's wrong, with no gray areas or middle ground as far as he's concerned. My favorite instance of this is in the episode where the family goes to visit Steven's mother and Rob, Alex's uncle, is telling a story of how Steven got in trouble as a kid for refusing to put his name in the upper right corner of his test papers. Everyone around the table laughs...except for Alex, who is deeply troubled by the information.

Just...Steven's delivery. The way he pauses and stares at Alex before replying with a ridiculous punishment that obviously didn't happen, but Alex shows no signs of being aware of or amused at the joke and is just glad his father faced the consequences of his actions. It's great, and a prime example of Alex's preoccupation with "the rules."

Another good example (& one that crosses into the empathy category as well) is "Big Brother is Watching", where Alex exposes a cheating scandal at school (that involves Mallory) and then can't wrap his mind around why everyone is angry at him when he gets the students who were involved suspended. He spends half the episode saying things like, But cheating is wrong. It's wrong and I told the truth about it. I did what's right. You (Steven) told me to always tell the truth, which I did. WHY PEOPLE ANGRY???

And so Steven has to basically spell it out and be like, You got those students suspended, Alex. They are upset with you because of this. They were exposed publically, which embarrassed them, and people tend to not like being embarrassed.

And Alex is like, Oh.

• Repetitive behavior/movements: Most often seen when Alex is distressed or scared, his mannerisms definitely stand out in many scenes. He paces, taps his foot/bounces his leg, rubs his hands together or over his lap, rocks back and forth, and avoids eye contact. I made a post about this a short while back because it really is interesting (and a testament to how well the character was played). There are moments where Alex is completely confident and "calm", and you can see that reflected in the way he carries himself. But whenever he's upset or anxious, you'll start to notice a variety of the things listed above.

So. Yeah. All these things considered...I headcanon Alex as possibly being autistic?? Which is not a take I've ever seen anyone else mention (and I seriously doubt anyone working on the show had this angle in mind at all) but watching through the series, my radar just goes off when it comes to APK.

I have no idea how this will be received. (If anyone even reads it because wow, this got away from me).

Thanks for the ask. As you may be able to tell, I enjoyed being able to spew out my thoughts.

#family ties #alex p keaton #apk #asks #do you see why it takes me so long to answer asks sometimes?#I'm out here writing an essay #I guess it's good that so few people I actually know watch/are fans of FT #because they would not have the option to keep scrolling and ignore me in situations like this #BUT! I was recently watching FT with someone who is new to the show #and I had said nothing about anything relating to this post or my thoughts here #after enough eps that they were able to get the full picture of Alex #they said ''You know...Alex could be autistic''#and I was like !!!!!!!! YOU SEE IT TOO

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missdawnandherdusk · 4 years

Text

The Year of O.W.L.s

(Hufflepuff*)!Reader x Draco

Down there

I know there's tons of burdens I must bear

But from up here

The world looks so small

And suddenly life seems so clear

Fourth Year The First Summer

Summary: The events of the first semester of your fifth year unfold at Hogwarts and more than your fair share of obstacles head your way.

A/n: Hello my darlings! So this is from September to December 21st, or the end of the first term at Hogwarts. Don’t dismay at the short time span: This part is over 13k words. I’ve been trying to finish this chapter in lue of what’s happening to offer some escape, so the last bit (thousand words or so) isn’t fine tuned, but I doubt you’ll notice. I love you all so much. Please stay safe and stay creative and always keep fighting. (P.S. some of the canon of the book is changed obviously)

Two people knew what I was doing in the beginning. Then four. Then those four and the rest of my teachers. Then the Head girl for Hufflepuff. The latter knew I would be silent for a month. It had started in the middle of July and would go to the middle of September. It was important that I didn’t say a word. There was something much greater at stake. Something that would take practice and a lot of patience. The latter didn’t know why.

The only one who didn’t know anything, the one that I was doing it for, was Draco. And those that did know, swore secrecy, so Draco would never know. Not unless I decided to tell him.

I barely avoided complete failure twice.

The first time, I almost slipped up the day I had gotten my prefect badge. In my excitement, I had forgotten the task at hand until my mother reminded me and I had to calm myself once more. It was great for my anxiety, this task I took on. It kept my thoughts occupied for the moment and something to focus on.

The second, was when I saw Draco at the train station. Under his father’s gaze, he said nothing to me, and hardly looked my way, confirming my suspicions about his summer silence. Yet, we were both prefects, and as such we were forced together in a small train compartment. Ernie Macmillan, the other Hufflepuff prefect, said hello. I smiled and nodded. Draco didn’t say anything as the Head boys and girls from the different houses took turns explaining what was expected of us all.

“Y/n,” Draco’s voice was quiet and soft as he lingered behind.

I paused, taking a deep breath in, remembering my trial. He couldn’t be the reason that I erred. I grit my teeth in hopes that it would help.

“You have every reason to be mad,” He began softly, his voice barely audible. “I was an arse, and I know it. But you have to understand—”

I raised an eyebrow at him. The first week he didn’t write back was crushing, the second week, I was furious, the third, I started my task. It gave me time to think, and to find my own reasons of why he treated me the way he did, and more time to choose to believe in the good ones.

“Will you say something!?” He demanded, stalking towards me.

And I started to. But, with my eyes squeezed shut, despair washing over me, I fled, back to the train compartment that held Abby and my other friends. Tears slipped down my cheeks as I watched the rain patter against the train window.

“You need to tell him Y/n,” Abby chided.

She wasn’t quite taken with my defense of Draco dropping off the face of the earth for the past month, but she stood by my side and somehow still supported my decision. Abby knew why I was silent; she was one of the first two to know.

I gave her an exasperated look and leaned my head back against the compartment wall with a soft thud, closing my eyes.

______________________________

Draco knew you’d be mad, but at least he thought you’d talk to him. More likely yell at him, but your silence was deafening. Then he found out from Pansy, that you weren’t talking to anyone. At all. In class, teachers never called on you, and you never said hello to anyone in the halls. You didn’t even speak to Abby. It wasn’t dismissive, just not natural.

He didn’t want you to have to vow silence because he broke your trust in him. He wanted you to be mad at him and that was all. He still wanted you to be you. He needed that, even if he had let you go to keep you safe.

“Answer me, you foolish girl,” The grating voice of Umbridge caught his attention.

He looked up and saw that you were staring at her in horror, refusing to speak. Umbridge was towering over you—barely as she had an inch on you—her wand shoved under your chin.

Abby quickly rushed over and Draco stood, spilling his bottle of ink over his transfiguration notes, taking a step toward you before remembering that you were mad at him and probably didn’t want him swooping in and playing hero.

“Ma’am, with all due respect, Y/n can’t talk, I’m sure you got her mother’s letter?” Abby defended.

“I don’t care what her mother says or what the Headmaster says. There is no excuse for her not to answer a simple question.” The witch in pink dismissed Abby and turned her beady glare back to you.

There were tears in your eyes, utter brokenness on your face. He knew that you would give in and speak out of pure fear, throwing away whatever you had been working toward, even if you wouldn’t tell him what it was.

And Merlin damn him if he was going to let that happen. You could be mad at him fine, but he wasn’t going to see you get hurt when he could do something.

“Is there a problem here Professor?” Draco walked up to you and Umbridge, taking a step between the two of you inconspicuously, allowing space for you. His heart leapt as he left your hand softly on his back, clinging to his robe.

“Mr. Malfoy,” Umbridge pressed her lips into a tight line. “I hope you are not preventing me from reprimanding a student.”

“He is not,” Another voice came floating down the hall. “But i am.”

Draco caught sight of stark blue eyes and a stern face and never in his life was he happier to see Professor McGonagall. Professor Sprout and Abby flanked her, all looking quite intimidating as they flowed down the hall.

“I wasn’t aware that you had jurisdiction over her, she is not of your house after all,” Umbridge seethed, taking a step away.

“She is of mine however,” Professor Sprout took a step forward, extending her hand to you. You quickly rushed over and cowered behind her. “And you will respect her wishes as well as the wishes of her mother and of the Headmaster,”

Umbridge, seeing that she was clearly cornered, tutted and turned dramatically, her heels clicking down the hall as she receded.

“Are you alright my child?” Sprout asked you softly.

A gentle nod came from you.

“She didn’t jeopardize it, did she?” McGonagall asked.

You shook your head. Your hand rose to your mouth, three fingers touched your lips and then you extended your arm down. It was an odd gesture he thought.

“You’re quite welcome,” McGonagall smiled. “Come to me when the week is done,”

You nodded again and Abby grabbed your arm, ushering you out of the study room and down the hall. He stared, not sure what he just witnessed. McGonagall caught his stare and raised an eyebrow at him.

“She will tell you when she is ready,” Was all she said then turned to leave, Sprout next to her.

Draco stood there, dumbfounded, before heading back to his seat and trying to salvage his notes what had a pool of black ink in the middle of them. He stole glances at you, and he could see again, you were using your hands in weird motions, and Abby was responding. Not a word left you lips but still you two were in an argument.

He caught your gaze from across the room, and you looked at him. Sadness filled your eyes and your fist came to your chest and made a circular motion before you turned back to Abby.

It was a few days later when he saw you again. It happened at dinner in the Great Hall with his friends, a commonality for the Slytherin house to eat together by year level.

“So how was your summer?” Draco asked Pansy offhandedly.

“You know, travelling in Paris again.” She sighed, getting a mischievous glint in her eyes. “What about you lover boy?”

“Lover boy?” Crabbe snickered. “You got yourself someone to fancy Malfoy?”

Draco scoffed and fought the urge to snap and defend you blatantly. He had to do this right.

“It was nothing major,” Draco played coy.

“We know you Draco, tell me how far did you get with her?” Goyle grinned, nudging his side.

“Honestly, show some decorum you two,” Draco muttered. “It wasn’t like that,” He scoffed.

“So, she put up a fight then?” Pansy smirked at him.

“No, of course not.” Draco folded his arms. “Seriously, get your heads out of the gutters you three.” Then he grinned mischievously, stealing a glance your way. “But she was good, if you know what I mean,”

Everyone listening into their conversation started cheering him on and he gave a bemused smirk, satisfied.

“Weren’t your parents away all month too?” Pansy drawled, catching his game. Draco gave a small nod and a wicked grin, laughing when Crabbe and Goyle nearly lost it.

“So, what happened?”

“Well, the summer ended.” Draco shrugged nonchalantly. “I told her we could still be friends,”

His eyes met yours from across the hall. There was a deep blush on your cheeks and almost a sheepish smile as you looked at him. He noticed that you were talking again, and he was quite relieved that you were getting back to normal, and maybe you didn’t hate him completely.

__________________________________

Meanwhile...

“You’re talking!” Abby exclaimed. “Is it done?” Her tone lowered.

“For now,” I smiled, sitting at the Hufflepuff table in the great hall, still signing the words.

“So, what did you do this summer?” Ernie, my fellow prefect, asked, sitting with us as well as a few other Hufflepuffs. “Now that you’re talking again,”

“Well, my summer couldn’t have been as interesting as Y/n’s,” Abby grinned evilly. “She got herself a summer love,”

My face went red as everyone looked to me. Ernie was skeptical, but the other girls—Hannah, Janis, Taylor, and Emme—we’re all hopeful.

“Well... he was sweet,” I stammered, my eyes darting to Draco sitting across the Hall. “It all happened so fast,” I signed a word here and there before pressing my hands into my lap.

“We need details! Y/n!” Emme squealed, grinning. “Was it love at first sight?”

Abby and I both laughed as I shook my head.

“Goodness no,” I chuckled. “I don’t know what to say. We spent the afternoons together for a month at his place. I read to him and he showed me the grounds... and well,”

“How much did he spend on you?” Hannah piped up, looking awestruck.

“Nothing,” I insisted, smiling to myself. “He was charming. Very different from what I expected, but sweet,”

“Look, she’s blushing,” Emme teased. “Awe, you really like him,”

“So, what happened?” Ernie asked, slightly more invested.

“Well,” I looked down, gnawing on my lip. “It ended, I guess. School started and...” I shrugged softly, my eyes landing on familiar blue ones.

“Does he go here?” Hannah wondered aloud.

My eyes snapped up, wide in panic.

“No!” Abby and I both said together then started to giggle.

“We’re going to figure out who it is,” Emme threatened. “Might as well tell us now,”

“I bet it’s Malfoy,” Ernie muttered under his breath.

I looked at him, my cheeks turning a darker red, biting my lip.

“No!” They all gasped as if it were a scandal.

“He’s actually really sweet guys,” I argued softly. “You saw him last year, at the Year End Feast...” I muttered sheepishly.

“But he’s a Slytherin!” Hannah was aghast.

“Not over the summer! I don’t know, Houses didn’t really interfere... we just were,” I leaned my elbows on the table.

“Awe, I want one,” Emme sighed wistfully.

The table broke out into laughter as the conversation shifted, my eyes stealing glances to the Slytherin table more than once.

.......................................

The Night You Started Talking Again....

Professor McGonagall with the aid of Professor Sprout both aided me that night of the full moon. They vowed to keep my phial safe until the next storm and I was grateful. It was hidden in a cabinet in the forbidden part of the greenhouses.

It took a week for the next storm to roll through. Glad to be rid of my morning and evening daily incantation, I rushed down to the Greenhouses where Sprout and McGonagall waited.

“My child, you must do this part alone I am afraid,” Sprout placed a hand on my shoulder. “Remember, do not be afraid and remember the reason you do this. We will be right here when you return,”

I nodded and hugged her and McGonagall before finding a blood red potion in my phial as I hurried into the rain. I took out my wand and pressed it over where my heart was in my chest.

“Amato Animo Animato Animagus” I whispered.

Downing the potion, I felt a liquid fire in my veins as I cried out. I knew what to expect, I just never thought that it would cause this much agony. My heartbeat thundered in my ears, but it was off. There were four beats and the sound of rustling wings.

Before me, preening itself in the grass was a white barn owl, staring at me curiously.

“You must show no fear. It is too late now, to escape the change you have willed” The owl spoke.

“I am not afraid,” I gasped out.

My senses became sharpened and the rain that chilled my skin bounced off of white and bronze feathers. Disoriented, I stretched my arms—wings out and gave one gentle flap and soon I was off the ground, flying through the rain.

I let out a yell of victory, but all that came was a screech. I could see and hear everything around me. The patter of the mice in the fields below, the voices coming from the school, the thunder that rumbled in the distance.

It took a few tries, but I eventually ended up at the Hufflepuff tower, chirping at my window. Well, I was really calling for Abby, but it came out as chirps. The window opened and I fluttered in, knocking over s few things on my desk in my landing.

“Merlin, it’s you isn’t it?” Abby realized, grinning. “An owl!? Oh, my stars, Y/n!” I chirped excitedly, preening a few feathers, it had the same feeling as brushing my hair. “You have to tell him,” Abby sat at my desk. “He’s going to love this,”

I narrowed my eyes at her. I couldn’t tell Draco. Not yet. I had to get better at it. I had to practice. Then I could tell him.

“Well, go on, I need Y/n back, we have homework,” Abby shooed me out the window and I chirped at her, flying back to where I hid my wand.

The shift back took away the warmth and waterproofing of my Animagus, so I was soaked to the bone when I came back to Sprout and McGonagall. They looked to me expectantly.

“It worked,” I grinned, pushing my hair out of my face. “Thank you,”

“Well?” They both pressed.

“An owl,” I beamed. “I can fly,” It was euphoric.

“An owl,” Professor Sprout was delighted. “Oh, you’ve done very well my dear.”

“Very well indeed.” McGonagall smiled. “Now, off to bed. It’s almost curfew.”

I bid them both a goodnight and headed up to my dorm, where Abby and I freaked out a bit then settled down to work through homework. I sent a letter to my mother right away letting her know what happened. I debated on sending one to Draco, but hesitated. I’d rather tell him in person, or at least show him. But that would have to wait.

It took about two weeks of constant practice in the tree under the lake in the dead of night for me to get the transition smooth enough that I no longer needed the incantation before morphing.

As I was transformed into my owl, of which Abby named Pinnae, a familiar blond-haired boy made the trek down to the tree I was perched in. I watched as Draco sighed and sat down under the tree, a foot away from my wand. I rustled my feathers in dismay, flapping them anxiously.

Draco didn’t notice my semi frantic state. He just stared onto the moonlit lake. I knew that I couldn’t abandon my wand, but I also knew that I couldn’t just randomly show up where Draco was. Preening a few feathers, I nestled onto the branch and decided to wait him out.

“Where did I go wrong,” He asked the water lapping at the bank. “I thought I was protecting her...”

I tilted my head, fluttering to a lower branch.

“It was stupid to even think. Of course, she would hate me. Of course, she would leave,” He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “Maybe my father was right,”

I chirped, outraged. It still didn’t catch his attention. How was he supposed to be the Slytherin Seeker if he was missing the obvious? He leaned back, his fingers brushing the tips of my wand, and he finally noticed. Taking it into his hold, he inspected it.

“Y/n?” He whispered softly. “Y/n!?” He rose immediately, looking around frantically. “Y/n!? Where are you!?” Taking out his own wand he called a Wand-Lighting Charm.

I squinted at the bright light and moved a few branched away from it.

“No, no, no.” He paced. “No! This... I did everything right! I left her so she would be safe! She has to be safe!” Despair was written across his face.

My heart soared at his words, knowing I had been right all along, as I glided to the ground, behind the tree out of Draco’s view, morphing out of Pinnae. Steadying myself on the tree, I rounded it, grabbing Draco’s hand, pulling him close and not letting him get a word in as I pressed my lips to his.

He pushed me away gently, looking me over frantically.

“Y/n?” He gasped.

I rolled my eyes and wrapped my arms around his neck pulling him back into a kiss. As my fingers ran through the ends of his hair, he seemed to relax, wrapping his arms around my back, clutching me to his chest as he pressed his lips to mine harshly.

It was a violent kiss that relieved the past months frustration and anger and sadness, until there was nothing left but affection and need. His breath was hot on mine as his tongue slipped past my lips, making me weak at my knees. My fingers knotted themselves in his hair as he slowly backed me into the tree. Soft sounds escaped my lips and were met with low one from his.

His lips migrated from my lips to my jaw and down my neck.

“Draco,” I panted out. He hummed into my skin, not stopping. “Draco,” I chided a bit more harshly.

He pulled up, cupping my face.

“Don’t ever do that to me again,” His voice was desperate and commanding. “I thought... Merlin I thought they got you Y/n,”

I pulled him into a tight hug, burying my face in his shoulder. His arms coiled around me as he pressed me close. Tears slipped from my eyes as I inhaled deeply, not comprehending how much I really missed him. I was so focused on becoming an Animagus, that the sorrow and pain of his absence had no time to register until that moment.

“Please forgive me, Y/n,” He begged. “I thought I was keeping you safe. I did it to keep you safe,” His voice was shaky as he pleaded to me.

“I’m here,” I consoled, petting his hair softly. “I’m right here Draco,”

“I had to keep you safe from him. From them. It’s all coming Y/n,” He cried into my shoulder. “It’s coming and I can’t stop it,”

“It’s okay,” I whispered. “It’s okay Draco,”

“How is any of this okay?” He asked miserably,

“Because you’ve got me, and I’ve got you,” I pulled away softly and stroked his cheek softly. “Yeah?”

He nodded.

“I still don’t know how to keep you safe,” He mumbled hopelessly. “Because I can’t keep ignoring you like this. It’s driving me mad.”

“Draco, honey, for someone as smart as you, you are incredibly dense,” I laughed softly.

“What?” He backtracked. “Why?”

“Just... don’t freak out?” I slowly let him go, taking a few steps back.

“Why?” He was growing more concerned. “Y/n? What did you do?”

I closed my eyes and pictured Pinnae in my mind, letting my heart beat with hers as I felt myself morph into my Animagus. Fluttering my wings, I looked up at him and chirped.

___________________________

“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me,” Draco gaped at you—well, the small white and bronze barn owl that was in your place. “That’s why you didn’t speak for a month! I thought you were mad at me!”

The owl—you chittered at him and fluttered up to his shoulder where you pecked softly at his ear. Uncertain, he reached up and stroked the feathers upon your head. You nuzzled into his hand.

“You did this for me?” He whispered softly.

You chirped and he took it as a yes.

He had to admit, it was brilliant. As an Animagus, you could be with him and easily hide when needed. And someone had to be on his side in the stars because your Animagus could also fly. He sat, carefully since you were still perched on his shoulder, under the tree, feeling quite different from when he had first gone out.

“Can I have my Y/n back please?” He asked the owl on his shoulder.

You hopped to the ground and he watched you morph back into a human, sitting beside him. He had never seen an Animagus so up close before. He finally noticed that since you had taken on the new form, your features shifted slightly. Your eyes were larger and more round, your pupils taking a darker hue, and your skin had lost some of its tan, favoring for a paler color.

You hugged your knees and watched the water of the lake, your face pensive. “I did apologize right?” He mused softly.

The smile he was looking for stretched across your face as your eyes landed on his.

“Yes,” The word was warm. “I never lost faith in you Dray, and I missed you too,”

He smiled for the first time in two months and you rested your head on his shoulder watching the moonlight on the lake water. He knew it was getting late, but he didn’t want to lose this, and he didn’t want to lose you. It was mad torture taking himself away from you. It got to a point where Pansy started to ask him if he was okay. And right now, he was.

Sensing the late hour like him, you stood, offering your hand, and it was so familiar and comforting to him, this gesture. He followed you back to the castle, not protesting, as you crept down the hallways.

“Ms. Y/l/n,”

Draco stiffened and you froze beside him, closing your eyes and inhaling sharply.

Slowly you both turned, finding yourselves face to face with Dolores Umbridge in her awful pink robes, grinning wickedly. Draco took a small step in front of you protectively.

“I suppose you two have a reason for being out of bed at this hour?” She tutted, raising an eyebrow. “Miss Y/l/n, I believe I am speaking to you,”

You opened your mouth, and Draco could see that you were struggling to find the right words and not have a panic attack, which gave him an idea.

“It’s my fault Professor,” Draco spoke softly. “I made her come out. She has anxiety you see, and she’s supposed to get a potion from Madam Pomfrey, but she forgot tonight, and though she wanted to ignore it, I told her that it she shouldn’t and made her come with me to get it.”

“I see,” Umbridge narrowed her eyes and pursed her lips. “Well it is still past curfew, and students are not allowed out of the dormitories.”

“We’re prefects ma’am,” Draco smiled wickedly sweet. “We are allowed to patrol the school after hours to make sure no one else breaks curfew, and if you speak to my Head of House, I assure you it is my night to patrol,”

Umbridge tutted and spun on her heel, heading the way she came from. You sagged in relief beside him, rubbing your face.

“Are you alright?” He asked, worried.

A nod from you and his worry lessened. He paused, wanting to hug you, but not sure about the display of affection in public. So instead, he pulled you toward the hospital wing to actually get you a sleeping potion, and perhaps one for himself. You followed wordlessly.

You paused outside of your common room portrait, the small vial in your hands.

“You know I already have these in my room,” You muttered softly.

“I know,” He reached and tilted your chin up, your eyes meeting his.

There were a thousand things that he wanted to say to you but didn’t. There were so many questions to answer and things to figure out and tomorrow to face, and he didn’t know how to right then.

So, he leaned down and softly pressed his lips to your forehead.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Your words from the summer were now a promise on his lips.

You smiled and nodded, reaching up to stroke his cheek gently before disappearing behind your common room portrait.

____________________________________

“You’re back early,” Abby commented.

“I was right,” I muttered softly, curling up in my bed. “All this time, I was right,”

“Right about what?’ Abby looked up from her (my) book.

“He did it to protect me. That’s why he stayed away,” The words were a soft relief on my lips.

“You told him! You talked to him! Y/n!” Abby grew very excited, tossing the book aside. “What happened!?”

“Well... I was Pinnae, and he came down to the tree, and well he freaked out when he saw my wand and not me, and then I transformed back, and we kissed, and then yell at each other a bit, and...” I smiled at the memory and shrugged.

“Does this mean I can talk to Pansy again?” Abby asked hopeful.

I laughed and threw a pillow at her.

“You can talk to whoever you want,” I pointed out. “It’s not my fault you’re a chicken,”

Abby’s face became very red as she scoffed, rolling her eyes.

“Wait, hang on, does this mean you two are together again?” Abby exclaimed.

“No? Yes? We were never together to begin with, and honestly, Draco’s right, this is dangerous.” My eyes looked out upon the stars hanging in the sky.

“You’re talking about You-Know-Who,” She realized softly.

I nodded and hugged a pillow. “I’m scared Abby. I don’t want to lose Draco over this. I’ve already lost too much,”

“You’re not going to,” Abby comforted. “Because you’re not alone, and you’re not the only one afraid,”

She looked around the room suspiciously and casted a few Silencing Charms, turning off the light before whispering to me:

“Harry Potter is teaching a Defense Against the Dark Arts class secretly here since that toad Umbridge wouldn’t know a Death Eater if it bit her on the nose,”

“What!?” I exclaimed to her shushing.

“We’re meeting in the Hog’s Head for a brief meeting and to see what’s going on,” She informed me.

“Who’s ‘we’?” I asked.

“Everyone who believes that You-Know-Who is back,”

I nodded and hugged a pillow.

“You want to tell him, don’t you?” Abby chimed in.

“He would know more than anyone what we were up against,” I confessed into the darkness of the night. “I know I haven’t told you because I wasn’t sure how I felt about it, but... his father is working for You-Know-Who.”

“What!?” It was my turn to shush her.

“That’s why they’ve been gone so much, his parents I mean,” I looked over to her. “Please don’t take it the wrong way Abby. Draco isn’t a part of it.”

“But his father is!” She insisted.

I gave her a pleading look and she took a sharp breath in.

“Please Abby,” Tears pricked my eyes. “I can’t be alone. I need you with me,”

She nodded and sighed, smiling at me, rolling her eyes.

“Anything else?” She mused.

“He... he knew something was going to happen, the night Cedric... he didn’t know what. It’s why he asked me to go with him. He wanted to protect me from whatever it was,” I explained, tensing for her backlash.

“He didn’t tell anyone!?” She hissed.

“What was he supposed to say? ‘Hey, my dad’s a Death Eater and he and his buddies are going to do something on the night of the third task, but I don’t know what or where, but hey good luck’?” I gestured, vaguely imitating Draco’s mannerisms.

“Okay, you have a point,”

“It’s bigger than all of us Abby. You heard the Sorting Hat, we have to stick together,”

“I hate it when you’re right,” She muttered, flopping back on her bed. “Of course, I’m with you Y/n. Through thick and thin. Always,”

“Thank you, Abby,” I took a deep breath and smiled at her, before nesting into my covers, the ghost of Draco’s arms holding me pulling me through the night as a filled vial sat on my desk.

Dawn filtered in through the windows and I heard Abby get up, dressing for Quidditch practice. I left her to it and rolled over, going back to sleep. Since I had taken on my Animagus it was hard to fight my nocturnal instincts. Abby came back in some hours later, opening the curtains in an attempt to wake me again as she headed to the showers.

Blinking and squinting at the light, I groaned in defeat, starting my morning routine. Dressed and presentable, my bag over my shoulder and robes in my arms, Abby and I made out way to breakfast then to Double Potions with Snape.

“Hey Feathers,” I heard a familiar voice as I walked down the hall.

Turning I saw Draco’s smiling face as he left his little posse and came up beside me. Abby lingered and walked beside Pansy just behind us. His hand found mine almost timidly as we walked along.

“Are you really gonna call me that?” I feigned dismay.

“To annoy you, probably,” He grinned.

“So, are we doing this?” I gestured to our hands. “Like, really doing this?” He faltered, his face clouding with fear and second thoughts.

“Do you not want to?” Hurt colored his voice.

“No, I do! I do,” I appeased with a smile. “I just... well, I don’t know, you don’t seem like the kinda guy to...” I trialed off and shrugged.

“The way I see it,” He started, gesturing with his free hand. “Is that I’ve gone nearly mad trying to stay away from you,” — “He has! It’s pathetic,” Pansy chimed in from behind us, — “And well, my father can’t exactly get to either of us as long as we’re here, so... if you want to...”

I tried not to laugh as he stammered through his words, looking quite lost. His air of confidence had fled him completely. I might have failed a bit at not laughing because he started to sulk.

“Draco,” I chuckled, catching up to him as he surged ahead of me. “Of course, I want to go out with you,”

“Really?” He stopped short.

I rolled my eyes and nodded, taking his hand again.

“Finally,” Pansy and Abby muttered from behind us.

All week eyes were on Draco and me. Some were glaring and muttering, others—mainly from Hufflepuff—were grinning. It left Draco and I both various shades of red through the days. Trying to find a quiet moment together was another matter. It always seemed as if Umbridge stalked wherever we were, like she had it out for me. And if it wasn’t Umbridge, Draco had Quidditch practice, or class, or we had prefect duty—never on the same night.

“We have got to find a way to sneak you into the Slytherin common room,” He huffed one night, sitting beside me at dinner.

Our friend group now had a weird mix of Slytherin and Hufflepuff: Vincent, Gregory, Pansy, and Blaise from Slytherin; Abby, Ernie, Emme, and Taylor from Hufflepuff. No one really snapped at another. It all seemed to be set aside for the sake of letting Draco and I spend some time together. I had a sneaking suspicion that Abby and Pansy had dealt a bit of threats in the beginning, but now it was almost unnaturally natural.

“Gee,” Abby drawled. “It’s too bad. You should send him owls instead,” Her flat look made me realize that Draco and I were quite stupid.

“Oh,” I giggled. “Yeah. I guess that would work,”

Draco rolled his eyes and shook his head in dismay. I cuddled his arm and went back to eat, the conversation shifting to the Hogsmeade trip coming up in a few days. I threw Abby a look, and she gave me one back.

Tell, she signed, pointing to Draco.

Know, I signed back. Tonight,

“What are you two doing?” Vincent asked Abby and me.

“Y/n and Abby learned sign language while Y/n couldn’t talk so they could still communicate,” Pansy rolled her eyes as if it were obvious.

I raised an eyebrow at Abby, wondering just how much time she had spent with Pansy.

Changed into pajamas, I reminded Abby to leave the window open as I transformed into Pinnae and flew into the cloudless night. I circled the castle a few times, more or less patrolling, before swooping down and landing onto the windowsill of a blond haired Slytherin.

“Hello there, Feathers,” Draco smiled, stroking the feathers on top of my head; I chirped and nipped playfully at his fingertips. “The room is empty and locked. You’re safe.”

I fluttered onto his bed and stretched my wings, transforming back into my human from, blinking away the disorienting feelings of my senses changing. His bed was made properly, something that mine never was. My bed had become more of a nest since my change and I didn’t really change it. I absentmindedly began to rearrange his pillows, nesting.

_______________________________

Smiling to himself, Draco stood, closing the window, leaning against a bedpost, watching you reposition his pillows leaving chaos in your wake.

“So, I’m assuming there’s something you need to tell me? That you and Abby were signing about today?” He mused, not without noticing that your wardrobe was similar to his own: an old t-shirt and house themed sweats.

“Yes, and I need you to not freak out,” Your voice was timid as you held a pillow in your lap.

“When have I ever—” A look from you and he decided to not finish that thought.

“Can you cast Silencing Charms, please?” Your eyes darted around the room.

“Why would I—”

“Draco,” You chided, closing your eyes and taking a deep breath.

It dawned on him that you were trying very hard to keep your anxiety under wraps, so he placed the charms without further protest and sat on the end of his bed, looking to you expectantly. A minute passed before you spoke. Your eyes didn’t leave the green duvet under your fingers.

“Harry Potter is going to teach a Defense Against the Dark Arts class secretly.” You paused, gauging his reaction but he gave nothing away. “There’s a recruitment meeting during the Hogsmeade trip. Abby’s going,”

A beat of silence.

“And you’re going,” He pieced together.

You confirmed with a small nod, still not looking up.

Draco stood and paced away from the bed, deep in thought. His mind recoiled around Harry Potter with a deep-seated hatred and betrayal. It was outrageous that Potter thought he could pull this off. But when he looked to you, the worried look on your face, it spun a new narrative.

Harry had gone against the Dark Lord last year and had a lot of experience—more than the rest—with dealing with dark magic. Though the papers spun ridiculous narratives about Harry and Dumbledore and denied the Dark Lord’s return, Draco knew better. He also knew that Umbridge’s lessons were to pacify the threat of an uprising at Hogwarts.

Then of course, there was you. His sweet, kind Y/n. The notion of you going against any Death Eater had him furious. Voldemort could take the world and he wouldn’t care, as long as you were safe. But he also knew the fire in you to do what was right. Not that it was a Hufflepuff thing. It was a you thing. Factoring in the death of your father and Cedric, he knew exactly why you wanted to do this. And to be honest, it made him feel better that you would train to be able to protect yourself of Merlin forbid, you do go against a Death Eater.

“Okay,” Draco nodded.

“Okay?” You squeaked.

Coming to you and sitting beside you, gathering you into his arms he pressed a kiss to the top of your head. He wasn’t nervous to be around you when you were alone with him. He had spent months overcoming that fear while wishing for you. It brought back the happy memories of the summer and all the days he never had with you to do this. His mother was never very affectionate and his father even less, so when you subtly approved of his attempt at physical affection with your own, a few more fears and hurts were left behind.

“Though I cannot stand Potter,” Draco gritted. “If anyone can teach you, it’s him. And I want you to be able to protect yourself,”

You looked up through your eyelashes at him, not smiling, but pensive again.

“Why do you hate him so much?” The question was soft.

Draco inhaled sharply and your gaze fell.

“Or not, you don’t have to tell me,” It wasn’t guilt striking, but understanding.

“I grew up hearing of Harry Potter, as I’m sure you did,” You nodded, verifying. “And as a kid with...” He scowled, trying to find the right words. “I always thought that he’d be my best friend... and then he chose Weasley and that mud—” You hit his arm. “—Granger,” He amended, his father screaming blood traitor in his head. “Eleven years of waiting for someone to be cast aside,” Draco shook his head. “And now he gets every easy way out.”

“I can’t pretend to know how that feels,” You whispered softly, rubbing his arm, “But... you were sort of a prick back then. Not that I’m defending him!” You clarified quickly. “But...”

“But maybe I wasn’t worthy to be his friend,” He divulged softly. “Or anyone’s friend for that matter,”

“Well, you’re a pretty great friend now,” Your tone was warm as you smiled up at him. “Or at least you’re working on it,”

He rolled his eyes and playfully pushed you into the pillow mound you had made. A laugh escaped your lips as you whacked him with the pillow in your lap. He took the pillow from your hands easily, and you threw your hands up in surrender, giggled bubbling from your lips. Throwing the pillow onto your pile he laughed and tackled you, wrestling you until you were pinned beneath him.

Panting beneath him, you went doe eyed as you wiggled under his grip. Your tongue darted between your lips, taunting him to come and follow. So, he did.

His lips met yours as he leaned down. It was better than his memory served him. Soft, warm, and inviting. Your hands struggled against his, and he released them. Immediately they found their home in his damp hair. It drove him insane as you’d knot your fingers into his hair, pulling him deeper into the kiss.

Desire burned in his chest, knowing that you were his right now, willingly inviting him. Soft sounds left your mouth as his won the victory of dominance. He longed to kiss every inch of your skin, and now, the only thing that could stop him was you. And you weren’t raising a complaint.

His lips trailed your jaw as it did before, his ears drinking in your soft pants, your hands slipping down the collar of his shirt. Draco shed it without a second thought. Your eyes lingered on his form, your hands trailing down his chest, featherlight. It made him shudder.

“Y/n,” He warned softly, taking your hand, pressing kisses to every inch of your skin, trailing down your wrist.

“I know,” You murmured softly.

There was nothing more he wanted than to keep pushing his luck. He wanted to see how far you’d let him go, but a small voice in his head stopped him. He wanted to do this right and he knew that neither of you were ready.

Leaning down and pressing a kiss to your forehead, he moved from his position on top of you to laying beside you. You turned your head and faced him, your hand trailing down his face, jaw, neck, and chest, leaving goosebumps in your wake.

“This is new, huh?” You pondered softly. “I’ve never...”

“Neither have I,” He clarified. “But I will do this right,” he pressed a kiss to your inner wrist.

“Always the gentleman,”

Draco chuckled and pulled the covers over you and himself. You curled up on his chest without a second thought, your fingers tracing random patterns on his skin. His wand within reach, he undid the lock on the door and the charms, pulling two of the three curtains closed on his bed.

“Are you going to stay all night?” He asked softly.

Your eyes were closed, a soft smile on your face. They peeked open, however, at his question.

“Do you want me to stay?”

It took everything in him not to snark at you. You settled back onto his chest, making the decision. You stretched out on his bed—and he was grateful that it was bigger than the hospital wing bed—as you intertwined your legs with him, yawning.

He reached into his bedside table drawer and handed you a recognizable vial. Draco may or may not have spent a few weeks perfecting the Sleeping Potion so that he’d always be able to have it on hand for you. His Anxiety and Thoughts Potions weren’t quite up to par however, so those would have to wait.

Watching you sleep in his arms he felt like he was in a different world. One where Dark Lords and Death Eaters didn’t loom over him. It was a safe haven. He could still scent the shampoo in your hair mixed with the woodsy air that had dried it as you flew over.

Maybe fairytales weren’t so stupid after all.

_________________________________

I grumbled when my pillow started to move. Squinting into the morning, I saw Draco sitting up on the edge of the bed, rubbing his face. It had to be early because dawn was barely peeking through the widows. Wordlessly, I reached out, my fingers barely brushing his warm skin. He jumped and turned. His panic settled when he caught sight of me.

“Morning,” He whispered softly. “Quidditch,” He answered the question written on my face.

I yawned and stretched, sitting up. It should have been a crime, being up this early for any reason on a Saturday.

“You need to get back before you get into trouble, Feathers,” He murmured softly, leaning over to press a kiss to my forehead.

“Don’t call me that,” I grumbled, staggering on my way to standing.

He laughed softly and ensnared me in his arms.

“Stay safe out there,” I murmured softly, my words slurring slightly. “The weather’s changing,”

“Have you ever morphed when you’re tired like this?” Concern was written in his features. “Or flown?”

I shook my head, leaning against him, the bed behind him looking more inviting by the second.

“You’re not going to fly then,” He instructed. “It’s too dangerous,”

“M’fine,” I mumbled.

“Y/n,” He chided. “Come on, I’ll walk you back to your dorm then head to practice.”

“People will talk,” I laid my head on his shoulder knowing that the sleeping potion was not worn off completely as it tried to drag me back under.

“They always talk Y/n. My number one priority is keeping you safe,” He set me on the bed and walked to his armoire.

I laid back on his bed and closed my eyes, yawning. When I opened my eyes again, Draco was dressed in his Quidditch robes—looking rather handsome—his school robe hanging over his shoulder.

“Come on sunshine,” He chuckled, pulling me up. “We need to go before I’m late,”

“You look hot in your Quidditch robes,” I mumbled into his shoulder as I rested against him for support.

I left his laugh shake through his frame and Draco was laughing, shaking his head, still looking quite dashing.

“Merlin, you’re cute when you’re tired,” He draped his school robe around my shoulders as he led me quietly through the Slytherin common room.

“I’ll meet you later and we can head to Hogsmeade,” He promised softly, standing outside of my common room portrait.

I nodded and we parted ways. I stumbled up to my room, in an attempt to catch another hour or two of sleep that came quite easily. I didn’t curl under the covers, instead Draco’s school robes were large enough and comforting enough to draw me back to sleep.

I stood with Abby in line to get cleared by Filch on our way to Hogsmeade. The caretaker eyed my suspiciously and nodded, letting me through. Abby found Draco before I did, well, she found Pansy, that was. And Draco was beside Pansy.

“How was practice?” I asked, shifting my bag from one shoulder to the other. “Alright, how was sleeping?” He teased lightly, taking my hand.

“Yeah how was sleeping?” Abby asked pointedly. “I thought you said you’d only be gone for like an hour,”

“Well...”

“We...”

“I...”

“Um...”

Abby and Pansy both burst out laughing. Draco and I turned red as we made our way to Hogsmeade. I could feel it in the air—maybe it was Pinnae—that the weather was changing. Fall was coming quickly, and the winter held something dangerous. The hair on my arms stood on end, ready for something that couldn’t be seen.

“Be safe,” Draco murmured softly as we paused at the break off in the road that lead towards the Hog Head—the meeting place.

I nodded and sighed softly, pressing up on my ties, leaving a kiss on his cheek before Abby and I headed down the trail together. I thought I caught the same gentle goodbye between Pansy and Abby, but I couldn’t be too sure. Ernie called out to us and we saw a small group of other students heading our way. Though they cast side glances at Draco and Pansy, they said nothing. As a pack we headed to the dodgy bar.

The Hog’s Head bar comprised one small, dingy, and very dirty room that smelled strongly of something that might have been goats. The bay windows were so encrusted with grime that very little daylight could permeate the room, which was lit instead with the stubs of candles sitting on rough wooden tables. The floor seemed at first glance to be earthy, though as I stepped onto it, I realized that there was stone beneath what seemed to be the accumulated filth of centuries.

It made my skin crawl and my senses tell me to run and leave the place as soon as possible. I gritted my teeth and clung to the strap of my bag.

The lot of us—Ron, Hermione, and Harry, Fred and George Weasley, Neville with Dean and Lavender, Parvati and Padma Patil, Cho and one of her friends, sweet Luna Lovegood; then five more clad in Gryffindor colors that I didn’t quite know the names of; Ernie, Justin, Hannah, along with Abby and I; three Ravenclaw’s I didn’t know either; Ginny Weasley, followed by Zachariah of the our Quidditch team, and bringing up the rear—all sat around a dingy table and one of the twins (Fred I think) ordered butterbeers for the lot. I politely declined mine knowing it would only make me more anxious to have caffeine.

I listened to Hermione as she explained the reasoning for starting this group and nodded silently in agreement. Then Zachariah—in his normal stuck up fashion that I loathed—protested against Voldemort being back and an argument broke out. I clenched my fists and Abby’s hand covered mine, in comfort or as a reminder to not lash out.

“—I saw him. But Dumbledore told the whole school what happened last year, and if you didn’t believe him, you don’t believe me, and I’m not wasting an afternoon trying to convince anyone.” Harry snapped.

I flinched when Zach said Cedric’s name in an argument against Harry, gritting my teeth and soon Abby really would have to stop me from lash out against him.

“I believe him,” I snapped at Zach, sneering. “So, get off your high horse Zach or leave,”

Everyone stared at me, most looking impressed. Zach grumbled something that sounded like “Slytherin lover,” but I ignored it and the focus shifted back to Harry, who stammered out a thanks and continued.

“Is it true,” Abby interrupted Harry as he fumbled for words, “that you can produce a Patronus?”

There was a murmur of interest around the group at this.

“Yeah,” said Harry slightly defensively.

“A corporeal Patronus?” Abby pressed.

“Er — you don’t know Madam Bones, do you?” he asked.

Abby smiled. “She’s my auntie,” she said. “I’m Abby Bones. She told me about your hearing. So — is it really true? You make a stag Patronus?”

“Yes,” said Harry.

There were many exchanges of surprise and all around the group was impressed. I knew that Harry would be a good teacher because creating a corporeal Patronus was no easy feat. I remember my mother telling me that one day I would find my own and it would watch over me as my father did.

When I tuned back into the conversation, Fred and George were threatening Zach again. I threw a glare his way and again he backed down. Soon it was discussed on what night and the topic of Quidditch practice circled around—of course when we met would have to coincide with those. Then there was the matter of the actual Defense Against the Dark Arts class and Umbridge.

“We think the reason Umbridge doesn’t want us trained in Defense Against the Dark Arts,” said Hermione, “is that she’s got some . . . some mad idea that Dumbledore could use the students in the school as a kind of private army. She thinks he’d mobilize us against the Ministry.”

The words struck familiar because Draco said something similar the night before about an uprising, it was true in a sense. The lot of us were going to rise against the evils of the wizarding world, whether they were a part of the Ministry or Death Eaters.

The conversation shifted again, and Hermione began to pass around a paper to sign, promising we wouldn’t tell anyone about what was going on. I let myself slip to the back of the crowd as others signed, knowing that I couldn’t. My hands started to shake softly as I was trapped between a rock and a hard place. I knew I couldn’t keep this from Draco.

As people began to leave after signing, Hermione, Ron, Harry, Abby and I were the only ones left. Anxiety gripped my chest as my palms became clammy and my breathing hitched. It was ridiculous to get a panic attack about this, but I knew I couldn’t sign that paper.

Hermione caught my eye and something odd passed between us. Maybe she saw the fear in my eyes or Abby’s glare. Maybe she knew that I was with Draco. Maybe she was judging me because she knew that the reason, I didn’t want to sign was because of him.

“Ron, Harry, go on ahead. I need to talk with Y/n,” Hermione said with no room for argument.

“Make sure she signs, I don’t want her blathering to Malfoy,” Harry glared me down. “I don’t know if I even want her here,”

I clenched my fists and shook slightly, a thousand replies at my lips. None of them were nice, so I held them in my mouth, not to be let loose. Abby was ready to fight but with a seldom shake of my head she stormed out of the bar.

“Go,” Hermione snapped. “And stop being such a git,”

Harry grumbled and sulked out of the bar—an action that was almost reminiscent of something that Draco would do.

“Hermione,” I began.

“I know,” She stopped me. “But you have to understand how vital this is,”

“I know that,” I breathed out. “Please Hermione, you have to trust me, and I know I really shouldn’t ask this, but trust him too?” I pursed my lips trying to find the right argument. “He said if anyone could teach me how to defend myself, Harry could,”

“He said that?” Hermione gasped, whatever argument she had lined up fell. I nodded and pressed on.

“I know he’s not your favorite person. It took us almost two years to get where we are now, and even then...” I shook my head and shrugged. “They deserve a chance too Hermione. And we both know a Slytherin can’t just walk into one of these meetings without...”

“Without being accused of sabotage,” Hermione supplied, and I bobbed my head. “Alright,” She sighed. “You don’t have to sign the paper, but I need to know what you tell Draco. Every word.”

I sagged in relief, rubbing my face. A thanks left my lips as my chest slowly unwound itself from the knot of agitation.

“You think there’s a chance?” Her question was soft and quiet. “For any of them to...”

“I didn’t before, but now... now there just might be,” I replied as we both exited the Hog’s Head.

Draco met me in the same spot where we parted ways, but he had a few bags from around the village in his hands. He gave me a questioning look, and his eyes flitted to Hermione beside me.

“Hermione,” He greeted politely.

A smile touched my lips as I took his hand.

“Draco,” She stammered before hurrying off to where Harry and Ron were waiting.

“How’d it go?” He asked, taking me through the small village.

“Pretty okay,” I smiled. “I’ll tell you about it later,”

He nodded and the topic slipped form conversation completely as he went more in depth to how Quidditch practice went at my request. I stopped into a few shops—Honeyduke’s to restock my sweets stash, taking care into what I purchased, then to Scrivenshaft’s for a few new quills and ink. Now that OWLs were coming up, I took greater care into rewriting my notes and drawing diagrams and I needed finer tipped quills and more No-Run No-Mess ink.

Draco hovered or stood close by all the while. We didn’t speak much of anything other than light conversation. I learned a lot about him in those hours: like I missed his birthday this year even though we were “together” more or less. It was a few days before the third task, and he didn’t think to mention it. I rolled my eyes and vowed that next year we would do something. He pointed out that he also missed mine and he talked to me the day of—February 23rd, the day before the second task.

“Well, then obviously you owe me,” I grinned.

“Don’t you owe me then?” He mused, raising an eyebrow.

“I dunno, you don’t seem to be holding it against me,” I smirked, swinging his hand playfully as we walked along.

“There are a lot of things I’d like to hold you against,” He purred softly in my ear making me flush bright red.

He laughed victoriously and I huffed, taking my hand from his and folding my arms defiantly— all of my shopping bags were in his other hand at his insisting. He caught my waist still laughing.

“You’re really going to pout about that?” He snickered.

Rolling my eyes, I let him off easier than I probably should have and we enjoyed the rest of the afternoon together: meeting Abby and Pansy for lunch then heading back to the castle to spend the clear skied day out in the sun under what seemed to be our tree now.

After dinner I was exhausted and dragging my feet. Draco took notice and ordered me to bed.

“We have to talk about today,” I protested. “Don’t you want to know?”

“I do,” He confirmed and placed his hands on my shoulders. “But I stand by what I said this morning, I don’t want you flying when you’re tired. It’s too dangerous for you.” My face must have given away my annoyance. “Not that I don’t believe in your ability and I love that you did it for me, but there’s no need to get into any unnecessary danger, yes?”

I sighed and nodded.

“Now off to bed with you,” A smile returned to his face. “Go read some of your book and go to bed. I’ll see you tomorrow,”

It touched me how well he knew my nightly routine. It was the small and soft moments that reaffirmed that he could change and care about someone other than himself.

“Goodnight Draco,” I whispered softly.

“Goodnight Feathers,” He grinned softly and pressed a chaste kiss to my lips.

_________________________________

It wasn’t until Monday night that you finally explained what happened at the meeting at the Hog’s Head. You told him of the deal you made with Hermione as well and he agreed. He wanted to gain trust and he knew he had to start small—he learned that from you.

Draco also may or may not have completely flipped out when he heard of Potter’s owl being attacked. He was very close to banning you from flying but refrained. You weren’t exactly his to control, and he already told you that you weren’t allowed to fly when you were tired. He didn’t want to overdo it and lose you. You weren’t one to be reined in and trapped.

He anxiously awaited your return Wednesday night when you told him there was a meeting. He had Quidditch practice that night. He spent the entire time worrying about you and almost got a Bludger to the face a few times. Pansy told him to shape up and focus or she’d ground him. So, he shoved you out of his head and played better.

It was nine thirty before he got an owl from you—not you as an owl. You promised you wouldn’t fly for a few days after seeing his distress.

Dray,

I’m back safely. Stop pacing the common room and go to bed. There wasn’t any trouble. Abby and I studied disarming spells tonight. It was sort of fun despite the looming OWLs coming.

I’m sending a copy of this to Hermione as well, she agreed to help me study and wants updates to what I’ve accomplished.

Goodnight,

Feathers

Draco smiled at how cunning you were disguising the events of your night in a letter. He knew that if it had been intercepted at all, no one could track you down for doing anything against Umbridge’s ridiculous rules.

You had meetings almost once a week, and always when he had Quidditch practice it turned out. Draco knew it was smart to have the D.A. meetings when the Slytherins were at the pitch, but it

wasn’t very good for his skills. He was panicky and not as focused as he should have been. But a comfort to him, you sent a letter every night afterward in the same cryptic remarks that you had done the first time.

“The meetings are stopping for a while,” You informed him, perched on his windowsill—that nearly gave him a heart attack, but you looked well at home—as he walked in after Quidditch practice.

“Oh?” He asked, starting to take off his gear.

You smiled and hopped down, closing the window behind you.

“Angela is going crazy with Quidditch practice... some big match coming up against a certain team...” You feigned ignorance as you sat on his bed, leaning against a post.

“Yeah?” He smirked. “She worried then,” That was a vote of confidence.

“Well I would be,” You purred. “Seeing how incredibly tantalizing the opponents look. It’s quite distracting I must say, having to look at your face and focus.” A grin stretched across your face.

He rolled his eyes at your antics but couldn’t stop the ego boost you had given him, nor the blush that rose in his cheeks as he shed the rest of his robes and heading to the showers, not without pressing a kiss to your lips first.

The week prior to the match, tensions were high between Gryffindor and Slytherin, and Draco unbeknownst to you, gave in a time or two, mocking Weasley when he could. In his defense, the youngest Weasley was an awful player—too anxious to stay on form. Sort of what he imagined if you wanted to play Quidditch. The thought stopped him in his tracks and maybe he wasn’t so patronizing to Ron any longer.

Along with the match, snow settled onto Hogwarts, forcing him to pull out his winter gear earlier than usual. He remembered you mentioned something about the weather off hand on your trip to Hogsmeade. He also almost had a heart attack when he saw you walking down the halls without a sweater or scarf when the rest of the student body was shying away from the cold weather.

“You’re going to give yourself away Feathers,” He hissed, quickly wrapping his scarf around you. “I know you might not be cold because of Pinnae, but Y/n,”

“Sorry,” You rushed out, readjusting his scarf so it hung correctly. “I didn’t think, and I was late this morning...”

Draco sighed and pulled you under his arm and walked you to your next class as you’d been accustomed to. He never did get that scarf back.

The morning of the match he caught sight of you in the Great Hall at breakfast—in a Slytherin robe and scarf. His heart skipped a beat before he recovered. He really needed to remember to get his stuff back from you. He soon decided that it didn’t matter when you lit up upon seeing him and waved. Your friend group was dressed in various shades of green—Abby also had a green and silver scarf on that he knew belonged to Pansy.

“You’re coming then?” He asked.

“I thought I’d try. And I asked Madam Pomfrey for extra Anxiety Potion. I really should just take it every morning but...” You shrugged and he could see the distress in your features still.

“Win or lose, I’m glad you’ll be there,” He pressed a kiss to your temple, wrapping and arm around your waist and pulling you close.

Up in the air, he spotted you in the crowd of students below him. You waved happily and gave him a thumbs up letting him know that you were alright. He nodded and kept his eyes out for the snitch. He watched as Harry bolted down and chased after him.

The Snitch skirted the foot of one of the goal hoops and scooted off toward the other side of the stands; its change of direction suited Draco. Harry must have pulled his Firebolt around, because he and Potter were now neck and neck...

Feet from the ground, Draco lifted his right hand from his broom, stretching toward the Snitch... to his right, Potter’s arm extended too, reaching...

It was over in two breathless, desperate, windswept seconds —Harry’s fingers closed around the tiny, struggling ball—Draco’s fingers scathed the back of Harry’s hand hopelessly—Harry pulled his broom upward, holding the struggling ball in his hand and the Gryffindor spectators screamed their approval.

Draco let out an aggravated scream and surged up to the sky barely noticing that Harry had been pelted with a Bludger. That made him feel slightly better.

Panting and still irritated, you appeared right beside him after pushing through the crowd under the stands.

“Are you okay?” Your voice was soft.

“Ask Potter,” He snapped, regretting it when your eyebrows furrowed slightly. “Sorry,” He mumbled miserably.

The Gryffindor team was hugging and cheering Harry on as the golden boy’s eyes landed on you, something in his eyes that he didn’t quite like.

“What’s that about?” He seethed.

“Nothing,” You answered a bit quickly. “Just Harry being Harry,” It sounded worn on your lips, like you had to keep reminding yourself of it.

“He’s been putting you through hell because of me, hasn’t he?” Draco demanded and you shrunk back, nodding to the ground. “Potter!” He roared, making his way toward Potter.

“Draco!” You ran after him, but he paid you no mind.

Harry could hate him all he wanted. Fine. Whatever. But he crossed the line when he started to take it out on you.

His Quidditch team quickly flanked him, Pansy on his right, as he faced down Potter and his team. Anger surged through his blood as he glowered at green eyes.

“Sore loser Malfoy?” Harry mocked, the Gryffindor laughing around him.

“This isn’t about Quidditch.” Draco spat. “You leave Y/n alone or you have something worse than a Bludger coming to you!”

“She is more than capable to protect herself,” Harry smirked. “But you wouldn’t know anything about that would you?” A few Gryffindors—he suspected the ones in DA—snickered.

Draco growled as Harry used his outcast status against him. Harry knew he wasn’t allowed to the DA meetings and pressed his advantage. What enraged him more was that it was a few hours a week that Harry had alone with you where Draco couldn’t protect you. In that moment, Draco became aware that he never wanted to be friends with someone like Harry.

“Draco,” Your voice was a soft beacon. “Please, it’s not worth it,” The brokenness in your voice shattered him.

Draco looked down and saw that your hand was on his shoulder, gently pulling him back, your eyes not meeting his. Draco’s eyes flashed up and met Pansy’s and Abby’s. There was one thing that Slytherins and Hufflepuffs had in common: loyalty.

“Hey Potter!” Pansy called. “It’s really bold of you to take all your anger out on Y/n because you can’t get ahead of Draco. Pathetic behavior,” Her words were sharp and calculated, and a grin curled across Draco’s face.

“It’s just as pathetic for you to hide behind a little Hufflepuff.” Harry spat. “You don’t fool me for a second Malfoy. You’ll always be just like your father,”

It was like a slap to the face.

“You wanna start talking about fathers, Potter?” Your voice was seething behind him as you emerged from behind him. “You know everyone looks up to you, and everything you’ve done, and maybe I did too, but now...” You shook your head, your face ridden with disgust. “Come on Dray, let’s go.”

And he did. He turned and started to walk away.

Until Harry yanked back the wrong Slytherin robe.

You were on the ground—looking quite shocked, fear and tears in your eyes as you met his.

Harry was dumbfounded.

Draco lunged.

_________________________________

When Harry was hit with a Stunning Spell and fell away from Draco in a fight that I couldn’t stomach to watch, I knelt beside Draco, who held his bleeding nose. Someone tried to come near the two of us, but I growled, a low throated sound I wasn’t aware I was capable of, and whoever it was backed off.

“Are you okay?” I asked, my hands brushing through his hair, allowing me to see more of his face.

“No,” He grunted, sitting up. “It’s fine, I can fix it.”

“You’re going to Pomfrey,” I demanded, leaving no room for argument.

“Just get me to Snape.” He muttered, trying to stand.

I rose before him, helping him up. Every eye was on the two of us, but I paid them no mind. There wasn’t time or energy. His arm slung around my shoulder; we made our way into the castle towards Snape’s office.

“Miss Y/l/n,” Snape pursed his lips looking down his nose. “I am to assume you didn’t do this to him?” Something lingered behind the professors black eyes.

“It was Potter,” Draco muttered darkly.

In that moment I wondered if Snape knew about Draco’s relationship with his father...

“Potter,” Snape sneered, grabbing a vial from his desk drawer. “I’m assuming you’d like one as well Miss Y/n?” Snape asked, looking to me.

“Me?” I asked, frowning.

“Your hand is sliced as well as your arm,” He raised an eyebrow.

A curse slipped through my lips as I looked at my right arm. Sure enough blood was soaking through Draco’s robes and my white button-up.

“These are yours too,” I complained, taking the vial from Snape and downing it, the now noticeable stinging pain from my arm fading.

“That’s what you’re worried about?” Draco chuckled, looking better by the second. A smile touched my lips.

“Thank you, Professor,” I glanced to Snape. “For every time,” My hand rested on Draco’s shoulder.

Something passed between Snape and I, and it was almost odd, the sort of understanding we had.

“Very well,” He muttered. “Now out you two, I have work to do,”

The walk back to our dorms was quiet. Since I was still in Slytherin gear the portrait didn’t comment as I walked through with Draco, nearly clinging to him. Without a word he took me up to his room and locked the door.

He shed his bloody gear quickly and then came to me, taking my—his—robe off and throwing it in with the pile. Pushing my sleeve back he examined my arm where it had been sliced on the rocks. Nothing was left but faded pink scars.

“I’ll kill that Potter,” He vowed.

“I’m fine,” It was a weak lie.

Right now, I was just exhausted. Over the weeks I had taken snide remarks from Harry at DA and brushed them off for the greater good, but after today I didn’t know if I could stomach another meeting, or even being in the same room as Harry.

Pursing his lips and pressing gentle kisses to my scars, Draco handed me one of his green hours sweaters and headed to the showers. I changed quickly, my fingers curling in the oversized

sweater’s soft fabric. Again, I began to nest in his bed and cocooned myself in pillows and blankets.

He came back out, his hair sleeked back and damp, in sweats and a t-shirt. I didn’t lift my head; my eyes merely followed his form as he laid beside me in bed pulling me close. I reveled in his warmth and scent, my fingers mussing his hair like I had so long ago in the summer.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” His question was soft against my skin.

“I can handle a few comments,” I replied defeated. “I’m a Hufflepuff remember? If it’s not one thing it’s another,” I closed my eyes. “Abby, Ernie, and Hermione always stuck up for me,”

“Y/n. I don’t know if—” He started.

“I’m not going to another meeting, don’t worry,” My voice broke as tears finally started to fall.

“All I do is worry about you,” I could hear the smile in his voice as his fingers carded through my hair. “I’m so sorry,” A gentle kiss was pressed to my hairline.

“It was going to happen eventually,” My tone was glum.

Draco sighed and didn’t comment further. Whatever was in the vial that Snape had given us must have been parted with a Sleeping Potion because I found soft comforting slumber within Draco’s arms.

........................

“This is just getting ridiculous,” I heard a faint voice.

“Imagine if Umbridge knew,” Pansy snickered. “Her golden boy breaking about every rule she’s set,”

“Bugger off,” Draco grumbled groggily, his arms tightening around me.

“They are too precious,” Abby sighed. “Sun and moon they are,”

“Such a sap aren’t you Abby?” Pansy teased. “Though no one could tell with you next to Maria von Trapp over here,”

I frowned and squinted into the morning light.

“When did you see the Sound of Music?” I asked Pansy, “And why didn’t you tell me you were watching it?” I looked to Abby.

“You were occupied,” Abby grinned, looking over to Draco.

“What’s the Music Sound?” Draco asked sitting up, running a hair through his disaster of a hairstyle.

“The Sound of Music,” I corrected. “One of my favorite movies,” I accused Abby with my tone.

“Muggle stuff?” Draco mumbled into my shoulder still not completely awake.

“Yes dear,” I smiled and rolled my eyes.

“Like Narnia?” He pressed further.

“Something like that,”

Abby and Pansy both snickered and left Draco’s room. I laid back in bed, pulling Draco onto my chest, petting his hair softly. It was a soft morning filled with lazy kisses and gentle touches. It being Sunday there was no real reason to get up other than food.

The day was spent in desperate hopes to forget the day before. Abby dropped off clothes for me when she came and I silently thanked her, heading to Draco’s bathroom, taking a quick shower and dressing. Snow still covered the grounds, so I slipped Draco’s sweater back over my head as we headed to the Great Hall.

All eyes were on us as we entered. It wasn’t a new occurrence; I was just afraid to meet familiar green eyes. To my comfort, I didn’t. Draco and I ate in peace surrounded by my friends and his. In fact, they formed a makeshift protective bubble around us unknowingly. Any Gryffindor coming near the two of us would get a cold glare from someone in green or yellow. I didn’t like the animosity, but the quietness was nice for once.

November passed like the snow that fell. I didn’t go to another Quidditch match, even though the next one was Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw. Abby understood, muttering something about shoving a broomstick and Harry, but I didn’t ask her to repeat it. I didn’t go to another DA meeting either. I watched the dates change on the charmed Galleon, sighed and slipped it back into my pocket.

“I still want you to be able to protect yourself,” Draco said one night as we studied in the library.

“I’m not going back there,” I snapped stubbornly and sighed. “I can’t... It makes me anxious just thinking about it Dray, and I have midterms and OWLs... and Pinnae has been driving me insane because I haven’t let her out,”

“Okay,” Was all he said with a soft smile. “How about we go let her out now?”

“Now?” It was the middle of a Saturday the afternoon in mid-December.

Draco shrugged. “As riveting as Niffler Knacks is, I think we need a break,” He closed the book and stood.

In the quiet of my room I morphed into Pinnae and fluttered out the window, flying to the tree beside the frozen lake where I promised to meet Draco. Landing on his shoulder with practiced ease, he pet my head softly and watched as I soared into the sky again. Draco was right, I needed this. The brisk wind in my feathers and the beautiful snow-covered mountains nestling the frozen lake... it took my mind off of everything below me.

On the ground below I had burdens to bear and the world looked so small. There were no doubts or fears from up here. Floating on the wind, I glided through the clouds. From up here everything was mine, every mountain and frozen meadow and there was no reason to cry or fear anything. I let out a victorious screech.

Soaring, I dove back towards the earth, banking left hard, circling around Draco and our tree. Abby and Pansy had joined him, holding hands. Abby waved and cheered me on. Pansy looked confused and Draco just beamed at me.

I flapped against the wind, slowing down and coming to a stop, chirping at my friends.

“Hey there Feathers,” Abby beamed. “You wanna tell her?” She gestured to Pansy.

I chirped and fluttered to Draco’s shoulder, nuzzling his face before flying up to a low hanging bare tree branch.

“Tell me what?” Pansy asked. “Whose owl is that? Is it Y/n’s?”

I morphed out of Pinnae and watched shock fill her features.

“Actually,” I grinned, swinging my legs, perched on the tree branch. “It is me,”

“Will you get down from there?” Draco scolded.

“Wait, but—that means... and— wait.” Pansy stuttered.

Abby laughed and so did I dropping easily to the ground with a soft thud, cuddling into Draco’s warmth.

“But—” Pansy looked around. “How? No wait—you didn’t talk for a month! That’s why! Has anyone told you that you’re absolutely brilliant!?” Pansy laughed.

“Draco might have mentioned that,” I grinned, looking up at him.

“What’s it like?” She asked. “Have you picked up owl traits? How often do you fly? Can you understand other owls? Other animals?”

“Pansy,” Draco snapped, I merely laughed.

“It’s amazing, yes, this is the first time in a month, not that I know of for the last two,” I answered with ease.

We all walked back to the castle coupled off and huddling from the cold—well, I was huddling into Draco’s comfort, the cold didn’t bother me anymore.

Christmas was all abuzz in the halls of Hogwarts and not even Umbridge could dampen the student body’s spirits. With a few days left of the term, we could all taste the freedom, the past months events all but forgotten in my mind since the day out with Draco, Pansy, and Abby. I found out that Abby and Pansy had gotten together after the fight in November—something about defending each other against other Gryffindors then kissing each other?

For the first time in my life, I looked forward to the holidays.

Epilogue:

“My mother invited you and your parents over for Christmas Eve,” I told him the last day of term, handing him a sealed letter. “I know it’s a long shot but...” a shrug left my shoulders.

“My mother might accompany me, my father...” Draco trailed off.

I righted his school robe, readjusting his scarf so that it hung correctly.

“Don’t stress about it Draco. Let me know if you need Pinnae.” I looked up at him through my eyelashes and watched his mask melt back off since I mentioned his father.

“I will,” He smiled and pressed a soft kiss to my lips.

Chapter 4

End Note: Please let me know what you think! Your words and reblogs are so important to me always! Don’t be afraid to reblog and comment! I’m nice I swear!

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elvendara · 3 years

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Sugar and Spice Day 3

July 14th

Rock concert (Rockstar/Fan)

“Five minutes till curtains up!” the man ran backstage shouting over the din. Saeran expected a knock on his door shortly and sure enough, it came. Without waiting for an answer, the man opened the door to let him know the time limit. Saeran locked eyes with him through the mirror and nodded.

Once the door was again closed, he stared at himself. He’d long ago bleached his hair white to differentiate himself from his twin. Saeyoung worked in the shadows, it wouldn’t do to have a famous brother who looked exactly like him. He also utilized colored lenses. It served two purposes, he didn’t need to wear glasses, in fact, his fans didn’t even know he needed them, and the mint green was a stark contrast to his regular, amber-colored eyes. The pink tips were a more recent addition, but he liked them.

Black eyeliner was expertly applied, years of practice making it almost effortless. He took a sponge and smudged it, giving himself that perfect edgy look. The earrings were already in, silver crosses dangling on each side of his face. Ironic really, considering he didn’t believe in God. The thick black silver studded collar was snuggly around his neck as was the matching cuff around his right wrist. He stood and grabbed his leather jacket, sliding it on and glancing into the full-length mirror he had been given in his dressing room. He was comfortable in this persona. The music had been a way for him to deal with his life. Writing down his anger, confusion, and loneliness was a way to get it out of him. It became bigger than him pretty quickly and he found that hiding behind rock stardom meant he didn’t have to answer any real questions about his true self. It worked. Except it kept him lonely and alone. He’d come to terms with spending the rest of his life that way. It was easier than imagining being real with someone. Who could ever love the real him anyway?

He smirked at his reflection as he laced up his biker boots. Time to bring the house down!

He was soaked in sweat but didn’t feel tired. In fact, he felt invigorated, like every time he finished a concert. Feeding off the audience was one of the biggest perks to his career. Someone handed him a towel and he wiped his face with it.

“Great show Saeran!” one of the concert coordinators told him. She held a tablet to her chest and had a handful of fans behind her. Five doe eyed girls and one shy looking boy. Well, now that he looked closer, he was definitely a man, close to his own age. He looked sheepish being with the teenaged groupies. “These are the VIP’s for tonight’s afterparty. Thought I’d introduce you before you change.”

“Nice! Great to meet you, I’m glad we’ll be hanging out tonight. Hope you have a good time. Congrats on winning the backstage passes.” He regurgitated. There wasn’t always an afterparty but there were some special guests, rich, who had paid for the whole thing, so he’d been pressed to oblige them with an appearance. He hated the politics of being famous, but he did love his fans. It was because of them that he could enjoy what he did. If it was up to him, he’d fill the party with fans and not rich entitled groupies. He knew he would spend the night fending off offers to ‘get to know each other better’ all night.

“Oh my GOD! It’s really you!”

“Wow! You’re so HOT!”

“Ahhh, my friends are never gonna believe this!”

The girls were just cookie cutter versions of every other girl he’d seen. He couldn’t blame them; it’s how they sold his image. The man looked embarrassed; he wouldn’t even look him in the eye. He took the chance to check him out. He appeared to be a tad shorter than himself, with blond hair and pink clips holding back his bangs. He wore one of his concert shirts and tight-fitting skinny jeans. His nails were painted alternating pink and black with the black ones having his band’s logo on it, a mint green eye. So he really was a fan. Cute too.

“Uh, well, like the lady said, I have to go get changed for the party, I’ll see you all there. And be sure to grab your swag bags before you leave, don’t let them rip you off there! There’s a CD with a snippet of some of our new songs.” He winked and walked off. There was a lot of oohing and ahhing as he left.

He took a quick shower and dressed in a ripped black T-shirt, black jeans and his biker boots, putting all his accessories back on and reapplying his eyeliner. Taking a deep breath, he turned and walked out to the convention center next to the arena. Of course he wasn’t alone, he had security that surrounded him and paparazzi snapping pics as he made his way to the party. They screamed questions at him that he didn’t answer, he smirked, the signature look the media had come to know him by. Surrounded by so many yet feeling so alone. Making it next door took longer than it should have because of the circus around him, but make it he did.

Once he was inside he was taken by the arm by the coordinator who had introduced him to the fans, he couldn’t remember her name but she seemed nice enough. At least she didn’t flirt with him like other women did and took her job seriously.

“You’re here, great, first you should go say hi to the Han family, they’re the ones footing the bill for this afterparty, then you can have a few minutes with the fans before talking to some reporters…”

“Whoah.” He stopped in his tracks and could swear she left skid marks with her heels she’d been going so fast. “I want more than just a few minutes with those fans, and who are all these people anyway?” He saw his bandmates and some of the roadies, but everyone else was a stranger.

“Nobody you need to worry about, uh, I’ll see what I can do with the schedule.” She seemed frazzled but clicked away on her tablet while heading off again. He assumed he should follow, so he did.

“Mr. Han, I appreciate you taking the time and effort for this function.” Saeran greeted the elderly man.

“Ah, of course of course, anything for my new bride!” he had his arm around a young woman who was clearly less than half his age. The rumors about C&R’s head were obviously true. Standing on his other side was a tall and elegant man who appeared to wish he was anywhere but here. He’d seen that face plastered on magazines of all sorts. The heir apparent, Director of C&R, Jumin Han. They nodded respectfully at each other, Saeran feeling sorry for the man and having to deal with his father’s escapades, but the old man seemed like a descent sort. After a few minutes of his ‘wife’ fawning all over him, making him feel uncomfortable, the coordinator pulled him away. He was thankful to her for saving him.

She escorted him towards a section in the back, past all the dancing and the loud music, that was closed off. The music was still loud but at least he could hear himself think. In the section the fans sat, eating and drinking snacks on the coffee table. They all stood up and rushed him. Well, the girls did, touching him and giggling. Where were their parents? They didn’t look old enough to be out. They sat him down and pressed against him. The blond man sat to the side in a chair and continued to sip his cola and eat the snacks, sneaking a look now and then. He wished he could just be alone with him and have a conversation. At least he wouldn’t try to crawl on his lap like these girls seemed to want to do. Well, maybe he wouldn’t mind if the blond tried that.

After about 30 minutes, which felt like a lifetime, the coordinator gathered up the girls and took them out. It was past midnight and he guessed he had been right about their age, couldn’t have minors out at all hours of the night. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. It felt like they had leached some of his life force out and he was drained.

“I guess that happens all the time to you huh?”

Saeran sat up abruptly, how could he have forgotten about the blond?

“Sorry, I’ll go if you want to be alone.” He stood and Saeran panicked.

“NO!” he stood, banging his knee on the coffee table, sending him on his ass back on the sofa. He grabbed at the knee, eyes scrunched, “Ow ow ow…”

“Let me see.” Suddenly there was a presence by him as the blond sat beside him, his fingers touching his knee. Because of the ripped jeans, it was easy to see his skin in that area. “Doesn’t look so bad, at least you didn’t break the skin. You’ll have a hell of a bruise though.” The blond raised his gaze to Saeran and he finally got to see the full view. Wow, those eyes knocked him out, was that color even natural? Maybe he was wearing amethyst-colored lenses like what he himself wore. His face was kind, a soft pink flush growing across his cheeks and bridge of his nose. It was adorable.

“Ah, that was really stupid of me. But…I’m glad you didn’t leave. We didn’t even get a chance to chat.” Saeran tried to regain his coolness but found he couldn’t seem to be bothered to try and act in front of this man. “Uh, what’s your name?”

“Yoosung. Don’t have to ask yours I guess.” He smiled, lighting up the entire room.

“Yoosung…I like it.”

“Thanks. I…uh…like you. I mean…I…your music…I…I…like your music…and…uh…I”

Saeran laughed and waved off Yoosung’s explanation.

“So you’re a fan huh? And what…a doctor?” he asked, placing his foot on the ground gently, still rubbing his knee.

“Not quite. But I am going to medical school. And yes, a BIG fan!” his eyes got large, as did his smile. “Your songs spoke to me when I was at a really low point. I don’t know, it felt like you knew what I was going through and understood my pain.” The smile faltered as his thoughts went back to those days. Saeran reached out and placed his hand on Yoosung’s, yes, he knew what it was like to be in pain, he could see it in his eyes.

Their eyes met, an understanding passing between them.

#my posts #fic #Yooran #Yoosung Kim #Saeran Choi #mysme #mystic messenger #Sugar and Spice #Day 3 #July 14th #OK #I know these are supposed to be Saeran as Spice #but damn if he isn't the sweetest baby boi!#He just wants to be loved!

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ninjakasuga · 3 years

Text

Sonally Celebration Week, Year 3, Day 2: Mystery

Day two has come for the celebration of one of the best furry OTP’s ever~. @gojira007 ‘s celebration blog @boundforfreedomsonsal of Sonic and Sally continues and here’s my second entry. Enjoy all~

Sonsally Week, Year Three!!

Day 02: Mystery

Foreword: This episode is still set in the Archie-Verse depicted in my fics of last year and day one’s story. This one is set some years after the fall of Eggman, when peaceful times finally settled on Mobius for the first time in ages. Of course, peace doesn’t always equate to ‘easy’, especially when babysitting two spirited scamps.

“Sonia, Manic- WHERE THE FREAKING BLEEP ARE YOU?!!” Shouted an irate, and clearly frustrated blue hedgehog as his right eye twitched something horribly. Standing in the town-square of the rebuilt Knothole Village, his gaze shifting back and forth from the trees, and the various huts of the quiet village. While mostly destroyed during one of Dr. Eggman’s devastating attacks; the entire village was rebuilt as it was during the war era of fighting the original Robotnik. With a few Eggman era buildings kept, and one or two new additions. Knothole was mainly a tribute to the village that sheltered the survivors of the fall of the original Mobotropolis, and became home of the resistance that would become the Freedom Fighters. Mostly a standing all-may-come museum to pay homage to the place that started as a Royal Retreat/shelter, but became so much more. A few of the huts were still livable, home away from home for certain members of the Freedom Fighters who occasionally would return to Knothole with their families to celebrate and remember those days.

Today, it was host to a game of hide and seek, giving the two instigators of the game a plethora of hiding places. One that was driving the elder brother of Sonia and Manic Hedgehog, one Sonic the Hedgehog, former hero of Mobius, crazy!

After tapping his foot rapidly for a scant few seconds, Sonic cupped his hands together again and shouted as loudly as he could manage. “MANIC! SONIA! FOR BLEEPING FRACK’S SAKE YOU BETTER GET YOUR BUTTS OUT WHERE I CAN SEE EM’! AIN’T FUNNY NO MORE!” It really wasn’t, Sonic nor his lovely wife, had agreed to hide and seek, but his two younger siblings opted to begin a game without anyone’s consent.

A voice soon called to him, followed by familiar footsteps. “Is there a reason you’re using frack and bleep? Is that a new sibling code of some sort Sonic?”

Speaking of lovely wife’s, there she was. Turning to face his wife, Sonic shrugged with a sheepish expression. “It was censor myself or risk using words I don’t think Mom nor Dad would care for two nine-year-olds to repeat.”

“That is probably for the best.” Agreed Sally, with a tired sigh as a hand went to her rounded stomach. She wasn’t far enough along in her own pregnancy; her movements were not hampered; but the extra weight of the two passengers in her belly was sapping her energy. “Whew, I’ve just been walking but I feel ready to kick back.”

Concerned, Sonic walked over and touched her shoulder. “All the more reason I’m not too happy they started this ‘game’ when I made it clear you can’t be as play-happy as usual because you’re pregnant.”

Shaking her head, Sally reached over to place her hand over his, giving an assuring squeeze as she managed a smile. “They’re just kids, it’s alright Sonic. They probably just want to get some last playtime with us before I’m truly an invalid.”

Sonic had to admit she had a point but his ire was not fully dissolved. “Maybe, but this is still too much. Even Mom n’ Dad told em’ to not get carried away.”

Smirking, Sally lifted an eyebrow as she glanced at her husband. “Sonic, they’re ‘your’ siblings. The apple doesn't fall far from the tree. There seems to be an innate sass-o-meter in your family. Pushing buttons seems to be something of a religious doctrine.”

Opening his mouth to counter, Sonic slowly shut it, frowning deeply. “... Fair nuff, but I still say you’ve rubbed off on them if we’re going for sass influence.”

“ME?!” Sputtered Sally, an incredulous frown, forming over her face. Beautiful blue, eyes narrowing almost dangerously. “How pray tell, do I count as a bad influence toward Manic or Sonia?”

Smirking widely as he got her goat, Sonic yanked the chain more, counting off with his fingers. “Well again, you’re the Queen of Sass and not just the Kingdom. When you gotta be right, you will argue til’ the cows come home. Plus you’re good at being playful when you want something, Manny’s baby-of-the-family routine is killer thanks to watching you. N’ Sonia’s all about emulating her Sis-in-law’s fancy mannerisms, and silver tongue. Just the other day she was in trouble and convinced Mom to let her off the hook light with a buncha big words she got from you.”

Almost mirroring Sonic, Sally opened her mouth, then closed it as she thought better of it. “...Touche’, but that doesn’t excuse the bad habits you’ve given them love-of-my-life.”

Laughing, Sonic gave her a big, if careful hug. Letting her have that one as, one it was true, and two, he knew jerking her around too much with hormones a-flame was a bad idea. “Of course, of course, but they also picked up on my coolness factor.”

“Truly…” Replied Sally in a dull, drawl that spoke volumes of how little she believed that. “I just hope our own bundles give us something of a break compared to these two. I can see why your parents are all-too-eager for us to babysit when we can.”

“Knowing us, they’ll drive us insane cuz they’ll be just like us in ways, but we’ll love em’ anyway.” Sonic mused, placing a hand to her belly and leaning in to kiss her gently. Sighing in a content manner, Sally melted into the kiss and hug, feeling a bit of the weight of impending motherhood ease off her shoulders to a degree.

Almost as if on cue, a duo of childish voices are heard uttering, “Eeeew gross!”

Instantly, both Sally and Sonic broke the kiss, angled their heads upward, and pointed as they both cried out in triumphant unison. “AH-HA! THERE YOU TWO SCAMPS ARE!”

“Aw crude!” Muttered Manic, as he and his sister clung to one of the large tree branches, quite a ways up that was connected to one of the tree house type huts.

“Well we gave them the ghost for a good twenty-minutes I’d say we won.” Stated Sonia in a rather faux-haughty manner. The more purple-blue of the two, whipped back her-pink hair? Wait, Sonia was blonde! Plus some of her fur looked more magenta-purple now?

In fact, why was Manic’s fur and quills more of a green-ish tinge than the light-blue they should be? Not to mention that punk-esque quill style... Eyes narrowing, Sonic let go of Sally, zipped into the hollowed out large tree with a hut built around the base. With the same speed, he charged up the ladder within the hollowed out tree, allowing him to come out at the point where the tree-house hut was, and lean out where the landing gave way to a natural, thick tree branch.

“Oh no, you two did not!”

Putting on the best coy, innocent face he could, Manic twiddled his fingers together in a playful manner. “What’re you talking about Big-Bro?”

“Seriously Sonic, you need to use clear, concise words.” Snickered Sonia.

“You both dyed your hair and fur!” Sonic pointed between each sibling. “Mom’s gonna have kittens!” Growled their elder brother as his mind swam with images of a none-too-pleased Bernadette Hedgehog glaring at her son and daughter-in-law.

Arms crossed, Sally tapped her foot, in a manner not unlike her husband. “You two sneaks lost us to go and do the dye-jobs yourself didn’t you?”

“Maaaaaaaaaaaaaybe.” Both twins chorused.

Sighing Sally frowned more. “Manic, Sonia, you do realize your Mother and Father are going to tan the crap out of your hides. They both told you, neither of you could have such radical dye jobs until you were fifteen, thirteen at the earliest if you both proved responsible enough! Plus, Manic, sweetie, why are you intent on making yourself look like Scourge?!”

“Hey!” Manic cried indignantly, a pout forming on his lips. “I just like the color, it’s not my fault Sonic’s scrub of a doppelganger had the same color-job! It screams ‘me’! Plus I don’t have sharp teeth or those evil eyes like he does, plus my quills are cooler lookin!”

“I’ll give you that li’ bro, on the being cooler looking thing, but dam-er dang it!” Sonic grabbed his own head-quills, mussing them up some in frustration. “Urgh Mom n’ Dad ain’t gonna let us watch you two ever again if you pull crap like this again!”

“He’s right.” Sighed Sally, rather dramatically. “We’ll be seen as so irresponsible they will forbid us from ever seeing you again!” She put a hand to her heart, and the other against her head. Truly, piling on the dramatic flair. “They may even question if we’re fit to be parents ourselves and have our babies taken from us.”

While Sonia rolled her eyes, Manic’s went wide as panic took over his earlier nonchalant attitude. “R-really?! We don’t want that!”

“Manny, bro she’s trying to guilt us!”

“Well it’s working! I didn’t wanna get them in that deep of trouble!”

“Manic she’s the QUEEN!! Mom and Dad can’t do jack to her!” His (slighty) older twin argued, seeing her partner-in-crime was about to fold.

“Wanna bet?” Sonic crossed his arms, smirking fully as he saw the sliver of doubt in the two’s eyes. “Mom can be scary when she wants and Dad, Dad is aaaaaaaaaall about the ‘subtle, quiet big stick’ kind of approach.”

Now even Sonia was doubting if they’d gone too far, especially as it pertained to how much trouble this might land her and Manic. Maybe she underestimated her ability to talk her way out of trouble. “M-Maaaybe we got a little carried away?”

“You sure did you two scamps, now if you come with me down the tree, we might ‘might’ convince Mom and Dad to let you both stay the night, and we can wash out the dyes and treat your fur so they never notice.”

Nodding as they both climbed fast, but still safely across the branch to Sonic. The two younger hedgehogs cling onto his legs. “We give, we give!!”

“Smart choice!” Laughed Sally from the ground, smiling at the won tag-team victory of talking the kids into doing their bidding. “If you two behave onward, there might be my special ice cream sundaes after supper.”

“Really?!”

Maybe handling kids wouldn’t be so hard after all? Sally thought before speaking aloud to them. “Cross my heart!”

“N’ you know Sal’s promises are good as gold.” Quipped Sonic as he guided the two once they stood up towards the ladder down to ground level. “Also, expect to help do some chores as further punishment for this stunt.”

“What?! Oh come on big brother-!”

“Nope, nada, don’t even try to talk me down Sonia!” Sonic cut her off as he coaxed first Manic, then Sonia to climb down the ladder. “Sal’s gotta take it easy and I need help doing this and that.”

“But you guys got a staff at the castle to do stuff!” Pipped Manic, his voice echoing through the hollow tree.

“It keeps us honest to do our own chores.” Quipped Sonic, watching them both get halfway before he started down the ladder himself. “Plus if you want us to keep quiet about the dye-thing-.”

“Oh fine!” Both younger hedgehogs huffed, giving up arguing.

“Being a big brother has its perks.” Chuckled Sonic to himself as he made his way down. Maybe in a few years, Sally and he could return the favor and foist their own kids on Manic and Sonia to babysit. Oh the payback will be sweet!

#boundforfreedom #Sonic the Hedgehog #Sally Acorn #Sonally #Sonsal #Archie-Sonic #Manic Hedgehog #Sonia Hedgehog

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miraculouscontent · 3 years

Text

“Didn’t Need Burrow” Masterpost (February)

Anonymous said:

Don't need Burrow: Finally, it will be revealed that Adrien is the main character and that Marinette was merely the narrator of his story (or history of their love).

The thing that we already know and won’t be a surprise.

Adrien didn’t have enough attention already but they were tired of using Marinette as their camera to his story.

Anonymous said:

Didn’t need burrow: Kagami wil decide to stay in Japan at the end of the Tokyo special. Prompting Chat Noir to start pursuing Ladybug again.

I doubt they’d make the specials official canon but I also don’t doubt Kagami getting sidelined so easily.

Anonymous said:

Alternative didn’t need burrow: Kagami won’t even be in the Japan special and all cultural knowledge will be explained by Adrien

Oh my gooooood.

*flashes back to Adrien and Gabriel greeting Kagami and Tomoe in Japanese*

Anonymous said:

Don't need Burrow: It will be revealed that Chloe is actually an innocent and naive little girl who acted like a malicious bully because she was manipulated and intimidated by Sabrina all the time. And it was Sabrina who made her bully the rest of the class and act as if everything had to revolve around her. And it will be retcon that Chloe did not abuse everyone to impress Audrey, but because Sabrina made her do it. (Note: I'm Anon that joked about Sabrina being more dangerous than Chloe)

fdjkhgjdfgfd welcome back, for sure.

I wasn’t ready for the Sabrina part since I was taking it 100% seriously up until then.

In before they say that Sabrina is just indulging Chloe and Chloe is how she is because Sabrina won’t do anything about it.

Anonymous said:

Didn't Need Burrow to know that if there is finally a white little kid gets introduced to the show, he or she(though let's be honest, most often a he) will be a sweet little angel of sunshine who's always on their best behavior and never does anything wrong, unlike all those rowdy black children(barf). Bonus if the kid has blonde hair and blue/green/grey eyes. Double bonus if someone(say, Marinette or Nadja) says to one of the other kids "See, why can't you behave like they do?" Rolling my eyes.

OMG SOMEONE ELSE SAID IT. BLESS YOU.

I always feel so awkward hating on all the kid characters for that reason but it really does come down to they’re kids and I don’t like kids. Most of them are just written as “kid” and nothing else.

Friendly piece of advice to people writing children and are afraid of doing what this show does where the personality is just “stereotypical child”...

Write characters as if they’re teenagers first, and then “age them down.” It’s the difference between writing Mylene (for example) with the personality of “child,” and writing Mylene as a younger version of herself.

It also will make it less jarring if the character happens to grow up and become a teen at some point in the story, where their personality is better established; they’ll come off as a developed person rather than someone with a completely different personality from when they were little.

(If you’re having trouble imagining said child character as a teenager/adult, there’s definitely a step missing.)

Anonymous said:

Don't Need Burrow to know that when all the kids in Marinette and Adrien's class inevitably get Miraculouses of their own, only the girls will get theirs taken from them for one reason or another, either because someone else figured out their identity or they do something stupid and risk people knowing(or people actually do know), while the boys get to keep theirs permanently and Ladybug becomes the token Smurfette on her superhero team. Rena Rouge might be the exception to this.

G I R L P O W E R

+ I mean, for Rena, Marinette’s already regretted giving her the miraculous at least once, so yeah.

Anonymous said:

Don't Need Burrow to know that when Marinette and Adrien inevitably discover each others' identities, defeat Hawk Moth and Mayura(the only good thing about this whole scenario), and gEt ToGeThEr, it(the latter, at least) will only be in the last episode of the last season, and we will get no time to see their development from "who dis?" to friends, to lovers. Love=ma^2 shippers will punch the nearest wall, while me and everyone else will sip our salty tea and ask what the fuck they expected.

If Season 4 decides the split between Lukanette and Adrimi, that means Season 5 is just going to be a love square shipping fuel fest of absolute and complete obnoxiousness with angst that’ll lead to reverse love square at best and then nothing more.

The tea will, however, be delicious.

Anonymous said:

Don't Need Burrow to know that Adrien will continue to steadfastly insist that Marinette is "just a friend"(such as saying so when Alya or Nino confronts him on it, or saying romantic sounding things to Marinette herself that are just intended as shipper-fanservice-bait, before adding something anticlimatic like "you're a really good FRIEND")...up until the moment when the plot decides to push them together and he'll magically change his tune and say that she was always more than just a friend.

How convenient~

Yeah, the plot has this habit of just changing things so immediately that it gives you whiplash, because they’ve never built anything up. I remember that it did that for me with the Miracle Box opening in “Sapotis” to reveal all the zodiacs.

Anonymous said:

Didn't Need Burrow to know that Alya(and possibly the rest of the girl squad, but lets face it, most likely Alya so that she can be the Black Best Friend) will be used solely as a plot device to get Adrien and Marinette together(against Marinette's protests, if I may add), and Marinette will get almost no chances to make a move on Adrien on her own. I know you salt on Alya a lot but you gotta admit it kinda feels bad to potentially have her pushed aside to only support the love square.

No no, I totally agree! I don’t like Alya but I obviously feel bad that her and Nino have just become love square/plot pushers. Add in Rena Rouge and eugh, no thanks.

Anonymous said:

Didn’t Need Burrow to know when Marinette finally tells Adrien she’s in love with him, he’ll reject her, and when Marinette gets over him and gets together with Luka, then he’ll probably get akumatised because of it, and it’s all Marinettes fault for getting over him(EVEN THO HE MADE IT CLEAR HE WASNT INTERESTED!!!) and entering a healthy relationship.

This one sent me through a whirlwind of emotions.

Also, inevitable "only notice the girl who’s wanted you forever because now she has a boyfriend,” because yay.

Anonymous said:

Didn't need Burrow: Ms Bustiers pregnancy is going to be handled one of two ways, but they'll both lead to the same outcome: either

1) her pregnancy will be ignored and she'll look the same as she always has until the one episode where it's plot relevant, and she'll suddenly look nine months pregnant, or

2) she'll go from looking the way she does in the New York Special to looking nine months pregnant in the first episode of S4, possibly with the addition of cringy pregnancy jokes peppered in throughout the season until the episode where her being pregnant is plot relevant.

The inevitable outcome of this whole 'pregnant teacher' subplot will be an episode where Ms Bustier goes into labor during an Akuma attack that she (and possibly the entire class) are caught in the middle of for whatever reason, she'll give birth either during or right after said Akuma attack. LB will have to juggle both fighting the Akuma and delivering the baby, Chat will be useless during the pregnancy subplot (50/50 that he won't be much help during the Akuma attack), and there will be a moment where the two heroes are both cooing over the baby, and someone will make a remark about how they'll be such good parents one day.

I know this is probably too specific to actually pan out, but I'm confident that at least part of this will line up with what happens in the show

dfkhgjdfkgdfg oh my god, Ladybug helping deliver a baby, please kill me.

The “good parents” line absolutely made me cringe because they’d totally do that.

The thing about how Bustier will look is also 150% accurate and it pains me to say so. Her looking pregnant is the most “fleshing out” that we’ll ever get from her.

I could also see her getting a substitute instead (I originally was going to shorten it to “sub” but then I just imagined Miss Bustier eating a sub sandwich) and then coming back at some point like “oh I already had the baby, here he/she is,” and that’s how they avoid making a model for her being pregnant.

Anonymous said:

Don't Need Burrow: A character will have a bad day and get increasingly mad whenever things continue to go bad for them/when other people annoy them, but he or she will still manage to keep it cool. Only when MARINETTE does something wrong will that person finally SNAP and get akumatized, and of course, Marinette will be blamed for it despite everything already going bad for the character to begin with. It's like the writers try so hard to make things her fault when she's barely a part of it.

oh my god

This is also totally Santa Claws/Bother Christmas but with Marinette instead of Ladybug. Gotta get both sides in there, you know?

#Didn't Need Burrow

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thetomorrowshow · 3 years

Text

Slower Than Words Ch. 23

First - Previous - Next

Hey..... a member of my household just tested positive for Covid-19, and I am displaying symptoms sooooooo hopefully that won’t affect posting but it has made this chapter a little shorter than I had wanted. Basically if the next chapter isn’t out on time that’s why.

cw: b a d parenting, references to trauma

Remus chewed on the end of his pen. Riley, Alberts, Robertson, Robinson, Richards, Allison, Reese, Arlowe . . . something that started with an 'A' or an 'R'. But what? Why couldn't he remember his own last name?

Logan was always saying something about brainwashing and trauma, but Logan knew his own last name! Stupid Logan Sanders and his calm explanations for everything in Remus's life. He didn't want someone telling him how he felt or why, he wanted to move on. He wanted to figure himself out for himself. He wanted out.

The trip to the library a couple weeks ago had been even worse than expected. Logan hadn't even let go of Patton, despite how uncomfy the kid looked. It had to suck to be twenty-something and have your dad drag you around by the shoulders everywhere you go.

Patton had only wanted one book, for some reason. There were so many books in that building, and Logan had pulled like a hundred from the shelves just to show him. He'd signed so quickly about the book that Remus couldn't keep up, but Logan had frowned and talked to the librarian for a few minutes, before eventually presenting Patton with a book—which was probably the one he'd been asking for. His face looked weird after receiving it, happy, but also seriously depressed. It looked pretty old, Remus had no idea why he'd wanted that book.

Rivers, Albright, Abbott, Ramsey, Russell, Reed, Rowell, Austen. . . . Nothing. Not even a smidge of anything. Well, if he couldn't remember his last name, what about the name of where he used to live?

The city came to him almost instantly.

Sharon.

Remus snorted. That was a stupid name for a city. Actually, he could remember joking about it with his brother, about how their mom shared it.

Energy flooded to his limbs with a suddenness, and when the bell rang from the door opening beside him he literally fell out of his seat.

“W-welcome to Chevron,” he said, straightening up. The customer nodded barely at him, making a beeline for the refrigerators in the back. Remus quickly wrote on the scrap of paper he'd been doodling circles onto so far: 'sharon – town and ma'.

Now he just had to figure out which state sounded the most familiar, and if Sharon was a city there. He'd spent days just driving around town with friends, he probably still knew his way around.

The customer paid for a few jugs of Gatorade, then left, dust puffing up behind his truck as he pulled out of the parking lot. Remus sat back down, scratching his mustache with his pen. He could google the city when he got home, then. . . .

Then he'd figure out how to tell Patton and Logan he was leaving.

Patton sighed, flipping through the first half of the book again. Summer, it was called. This copy looked almost identical to the other one. He closed his eyes and ran his fingers along the slightly indented title, like Virgil would. He'd had it for almost two months now, asking Father to renew the book instead of allowing it to be returned. He really wanted to finish it, after all.

Not that he could ever get himself to read past around the middle.

Patton's notebook was almost full now, but he couldn't ask Remus for another. Not after how much Remus was already doing for him. The pages were filled with studying mouth movements, bad jokes, and journal entries that mostly were about Virgil and what they'd do when they were together again. In tiny, cramped handwriting was a detailed recollection of everything Patton could remember that Virgil told him about where he lived—which wasn't much. It was hard to hold on to any memories from there. His therapist said it had to do with trauma memories being stored incorrectly, and said he might have flashbacks about it. So far, none had happened, but sometimes he wished one would—just so he could see Virgil again.

He wasn't good at drawing, but here and there in his notebook were vague sketches of Virgil. Some days, Patton woke up not sure what he looked like. He couldn't forget him. Patton would never forgive himself if he forgot the lovely mistiness of Virgil's eyes, the way his hair fell into his mouth and made him sputter, the stark paleness of his face against his black hoodie. . . .

Patton wrapped the hoodie around himself. He needed to think about something else, or else he'd start crying again. Crying made his head and ears hurt, which his doctor said would probably always be the case. So he mostly did his best to not cry, ever.

Patton cast his mind around for something new to think about, and landed on the trip to the library several weeks ago. The trip wasn't . . . optimal?

No. The trip sucked.

Father wouldn't let go of him, which just made him feel like a toddler having to be guided around. It was bright, and had a lot of people, and was a little startling, but Patton was sure he could have handled it. Why didn't Father trust him?

It wasn't just that. Father made him go to bed at a specific time every night, wouldn't let him have any say in what he ate, wouldn't even let him pick what to watch on the TV. It was . . . it was stupid! It was awful, it was embarrassing, it was demeaning! It made Patton feel worthless, like he wasn't even a proper member of society! He wasn't a boy anymore, he had even had a job back at the Haven, he wasn't helpless!

Maybe soon, with all that he'd been learning, he could prove to Father that he was capable. And if Father wouldn't believe him, well . . . Patton would have to make him.

Again, that anger was right at the surface, ready to spill out into the air. At least he had the book.

Somehow, Logan had let Remus convince him that he didn't need to go to every therapy appointment with Patton, so Logan was at home alone. For the first time in months. He was exhausted, but he did not have time to sleep.

Patton was hiding something. Logan was undeniably certain of it. And when Patton hid something, he hid it under his bed.

Logan didn't get up immediately. This was a matter of privacy, after all. He understood that he was likely being a little too restricting with his son, but who could blame him? He'd almost lost him. So if Patton was hiding something, it was likely best to know what it was. Patton didn't seem to realize the amount of danger he was in. It wasn't his fault, he was just a child. Children weren't supposed to worry about this sort of thing, it was their parents' jobs to care for them. So, naturally, he had to make sure that whatever Patton was hiding wasn't going to bring harm in some way. If it was, he could gently confront him about it, and explain why it was not acceptable.

With that plan in mind, Logan stood from his desk and made his way to Patton's room. His door was always open, even when he was inside—it made sense, all things considered.

The room still had almost precisely the same setup as Logan had put together, down to the making of the bed. He'd told Patton that he was allowed to customize his room and ask for personal items, but so far he had done neither of those things. The only difference was that the small closet now had a few more pieces of clothing in it.

Logan bent to his hands and knees beside the bed and peered beneath. Sure enough, there were items underneath the boy's bed: a battered blue notebook, the singular book that he had wanted from the library last month, the jacket that had belonged to the other other prisoner. Logan reached for the notebook, grunting when his back popped.

He pulled himself onto Patton's bed to open it. It was confusing, at first, some jokes in his son's handwriting, rather poor sketches of an unfamiliar face. Then. . . .

Oh.

That—that was bad.

Logan took a few deep breaths, then flipped another page, then another. More of the same. This wasn't good. This was not good at all.

These diagrams and instructions, clearly for lip-reading? These would get Patton taken away from him. These would hurt him. These would make Patton want to leave the safety of home.

These were dangerous.

Taglist: @enragedbees @gotta-love-alejandra @bunny222 @basiic-emo @patt0n-sanders @rosiepupper @fangirlgeekandfreak @dn-fan21 @that2000skid @remy-the-lemon-berry @itsadastraperaspera @xionbean @sanderssides-angst @hell-yea-we-gay-tonight @maybedefinitely404 @broken-pencils @thewhimsicallibrarytech @doomllily @hereissananxiousmess @judyismydog @arodynamic-enby @at-that-one-nerd @therapysides @awkwardandanxiousfander @thekitchenpan @im-an-anxious-wreck @larkiaquail

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kumeko · 3 years

Photo

A/N: For the Butterfly Estate Zine! Spoilers for later events in the manga, for anime-onlys.

…

Shinobu pressed her fingers against the coin, feeling the imprint of the hard edges on her skin. Even in the warm, spring sunlight, the metal felt cold. “Kanae gave this to you, right?” she asked, idly turning it over on her palm.

Standing next to her, Kanao nodded her head slowly. “To help me decide,” she explained, a fond smile on her face. There was a hint of sorrow in her expression, something Shinobu saw in the mirror whenever she thought of her sister. It was less than it was yesterday, less than it was a year ago, and while it would be ever present, the pain had eased.

Shinobu glanced at her younger sister. A chill breeze blew through, ruffling her hair and the butterfly clasp keeping her locks together. Would she wear a second one, when Shinobu died? A memento from both sisters? Swallowing down the lump in her throat, Shinobu closed her hand around the coin. “Despite how she acted, she always knew what to do.”

Kanao clasped her hands in front of her, nodding. “She did.” Peeking up, she added shyly, “And so do you.”

“Do I?” Shinobu questioned, looking up at the Wisteria trees that bordered her estate. Their sickly-sweet scent lingered in the air, the purple blooms fluttering in the wind, and even after all this time, Shinobu couldn’t get used to their scent. She felt small and impermanent in comparison to the eternally blooming giants. The problem she faced was bigger than her, almost as old as the trees themselves.

A part of her feared it would continue long after she was gone.

A soft touch brought her out of her thoughts and she looked down to find Kanao’s hand wrapped around hers. In front of her, her sister uttered simply, “Yes.”

For once, Kanao looked self-assured, no doubt colouring her voice. Shinobu swallowed. It was wrong of her to lean on Kanao so much, to need this confidence. Despite herself, she raised her other hand, sandwiching Kanao’s between hers. “I guess you’re right,” she finally said, keeping her voice from cracking.

This settled it. Any reservations she had about her idea, Shinobu let go. Her time was limited. It had always been the case, ever since she’d picked up her sister’s sword. No, even before that, when her parents had died, when she’d taken the Master’s hand, her body trembling from fear. It was just more so now; she knew her expiration date better than most.

Only, this wasn’t just revenge. It couldn’t be. Not when Kanao was standing in front of her, love and belief shining through her eyes.

No, this was about protecting. About keeping her family, however small it was now, safe.

“Thanks.” Shinobu pulled her hand free. The coin was still on her hand, heavy as ever.

“Do you need to make a decision?” Kanao asked, her eyes flickering from the coin to Shinobu.

“I guess. Heads, I’ll do it.” Shinobu flipped the coin, watching the bronze gleam in the sunlight. She already knew what side it’d land.

Tomorrow, she’d talk to the Master about the Wisteria poison.

-x-

“AHHHH!” Tanjirou roared, his sword high in the air as he charged forward. Shinobu could almost see the rush of an incoming wave, the clash against the rocks when he struck. If Giyuu’s technique had the tranquility of a pond, Tanjirou’s was the aggressive stream coursing ever forward.

And she was the water spider, gliding above it all. She jumped, flipping through the air and landing behind him. Unable to change his course or stop his momentum, Tanjirou crashed into one of the trees surrounding the training grounds. He rolled backwards, falling flat on his back.

“Good effort,” she praised, tucking a lock behind her ear as she bent over him.

“T-thanks,” he wheezed. He lay there and tried to catch his breath.

“You’re getting better.” Shinobu lifted her right arm and inspected her uniform. Poking her finger through the hole he made, she chuckled. All this from a boy who just learned to keep his breathing constant. “You’re a quick learner.”

Tanjirou’s eyes lit up and he sat up quickly. “Really?”

“Really,” she nodded, humming her agreement.

“G-great.” He’d moved too quickly, and his body struggled to keep him upright before giving up entirely. Falling flat on his back, he closed his eyes and sighed happily. “I can try again in a minute.”

There was something utterly refreshing about his earnestness and honesty. It reminded her a little of Rengoku. Maybe she should have them meet properly after this. Sitting next to him on the cool, wet grass, she leaned back and enjoyed the cool breeze. “It’s fine, take your time.”

“Thanks.” His breathing had yet to even out.

Glancing over to her right, she observed their audience on the veranda. Hidden in the shade, Nezuko was watching them curiously, her pink eyes bright despite the gloom. Kiyo was sitting behind her, braiding her hair, while Sumi and Naho neatly folded their laundry. At first, they’d run away at the sight of her, but now, they looked almost too relaxed next to her.

Nezuko. A demon that didn’t hunger. Shinobu’s eyes flicked back to the panting Tanjirou. “You’re going to kill Muzan for her,” she asked without thinking.

Tanjirou’s eyes flew open and he stared at her in surprise. “How…”

She chuckled. “It’s not like you hide it.” Or, even if he tried, could hide it well. Tanjirou was far too frank for deception.

“R-right.” Tanjirou gave a sheepish smile, his cheeks colouring a light red. No doubt he was remembering past declarations of Muzan’s death. He sat up slowly and waved to Nezuko. “It’s the only way to save her.”

Shinobu imagined her expression was the same whenever she looked at Kanae—tender, soft, a little sad. Picking a strand of grass, she methodically tore it to pieces. “You could die.”

“I won’t,” he replied immediately, filled with the confidence of youth. For a moment, she believed him. There was something in Tanjirou that she hadn’t seen in ages, a hopeful belief in the future mixed with a tragic understanding of the present.

Perhaps Muzan could be defeated in her lifetime.

Still, wishes didn’t make things so, and Shinobu tossed the grass pieces at him. “You could die,” she repeated firmly.

Tanjirou looked at her now. Recognizing the seriousness of the question, he frowned, crossing his arms as he considered it. “I…” He lowered his eyes, taking a deep breath before offering a sad smile. “That doesn’t matter. Nezuko’s family; I have to try, no matter what.” Once more, he looked at his sister. “She’d do the same for me.”

“That, I can understand.” Even now, she could smell the Wisteria, hear the click of her nail flipping the coin. Kanae’s blood had been so warm, her body so cold. There were things you did for family, no matter the cost, and she found herself looking for Kanao even though she wouldn’t be here. “There are some things more important than your life.”

“Yeah.” Tanjirou nodded.

Shinobu turned to him, sizing him up. He’d survived grief, managed to stand even when sorrow threatened to swallow him whole. Kanao would need someone like that when she died. Selfishly, she asked, “Would you be friends with Kanao?”

His eager nod eased the load on her shoulders ever so slightly.

-x-

Sitting on the porch, Shinobu gently swirled the sake in her cup. It was a rare night she got to relax, to just sit here and admire the night sky. The moon hung low in the heavens, full and heavy, and the gentlest of breezes rustled through the grass.

Behind her, quiet footsteps approached her and she smiled. “I thought you didn’t like drinking,” she teased, glancing over her shoulder as Giyuu stepped out into the moonlight.

“I don’t,” he stated, slowly sitting down next to her. As usual, his blank expression and dry tone gave away nothing.

“Could have fooled me,” she muttered, taking a sip. She wasn’t quite sure when this had started, this almost-habit of late-night drinking. At some point, he’d started joining her when she relaxed and watched the moon. At some point, she’d stopped minding it.

“I don’t think anyone could fool you,” he answered bluntly, his eyes on the moon.

She chuckled. For a man who didn’t know how to joke, he was constantly unintentionally funny. “No, I suppose not.” Her wits were the only thing that made up for her stature. Leaning forward, she smiled teasingly. “So did you miss my company or the view while you were away?”

Giyuu’s brow furrowed, the only indication that he was frowning. He fell silent, more so than usual, and she hadn’t expected him to consider her question so seriously.

Perhaps she should let him off easy this time. It had been a while since they’d last sat together like this and despite her attitude, she did enjoy his company. Somehow. It wouldn’t do to scare him away. “You don’t—”

“Both,” Giyuu finally admitted.

“—have to…” Shinobu trailed off, blinking as she processed his answer. Staring at him, she tried not to gape. “Both?”

He merely nodded. Nothing about his straight back, the profile of his blank face, or even his hands, neatly tucked into the opposite arm’s sleeves, gave away his emotions.

Both. Shinobu bit her lip, stopping herself from asking what exactly he meant by that. Did he like this quiet hour together too? Did he just miss the calm of it all? And would it be worth the frustrating hours of trying to pull the words from his lips?

No, definitely not. Still, in a rare moment of honesty, she smiled into her cup. “Me too.”

He glanced at her when she said that but still said nothing.

She swirled her sake once more. The moon’s reflection rippled in the clear liquid. Butterflies danced in the nearby wisteria trees and even when she died, that scent would follow her to her grave. Taking advantage of the atmosphere, she asked, “Why did you spare Tanjirou and Nezuko?”

From the corner of her eyes, she watched as he bit his lip, his frown growing deeper as he grappled with an answer. After a long silence punctuated only by the soft chirp of the cicadas, he finally answered, “She protected him.”

“That was unusual for a demon,” she agreed. His expression was dark and she wondered if that reminded him of some incident in his past, some haunting memory he hadn’t finished wrestling with. For all her talk about becoming friends with demons, she would have killed Nezuko on the spot. Almost had, in fact, if not for the Master’s intervention.

And now this unusual demon and her brother could be the very key to ending centuries worth of conflict. She set down her sake, no longer thirsty. “They’re going to come for her soon.” Shinobu could almost feel it. The new training, the Master’s changed tactics, everything was coming to a head.

Her days were numbered. A year’s worth of poison had to be enough to bring the demon down. Tomorrow, or maybe the day after, she’d have to tell Kanao. She wasn’t looking forward to that conversation.

“Yeah.” Giyuu nodded, finally looking at her. “We’ll be ready.”

Shinobu raised a brow. “That’s surprisingly hopeful of you.” He didn’t say anything but she had a feeling it was Tanjirou’s influence.

Something started changing after Tanjirou had arrived, and it wasn’t just the demons who’d transformed. She heard the quiet clink of a coin, saw gold flipping against the bright blue sky. The coin would land, the die set, and there was no time to say it but now. Fiddling with her sleeves, Shinobu asked quietly, “Could you take care of Kanao?” Impassive eyes stared at her and she smiled, giving nothing away. “If something happens,” she clarified.

“No,” he answered just as bluntly as he normally did.

“How cruel.” Shinobu sighed.

“She has you,” Giyuu continued, as steady as a river, and for all the deaths they’d experienced, it seemed hers had never crossed his mind.

Shinobu took pride in the compliment. She hoped it wouldn’t hurt him too much when he found out he was wrong. “She does.”

There was a small gap between them, a space that had shrunk in the past years. She wondered if it would have disappeared in the coming months, if their fingers would have overlapped and thighs brushed one another.

A question she’d never know the answer to. She felt sadder at that than she’d thought.

-x-

The demon’s strikes were harder than she’d expected. Shinobu lay on the wooden platform, gasping as she tried to breathe. Her ribs were cracked, a trickle of blood escaping her lips, and she barely had the energy to open her eyes, let alone grab her sword.

No wonder he was an upper moon. He was far too strong, and she couldn’t kill him with her weapon.

She’d hoped and hoped, but it seemed there was no wiggling out of her fate.

Shinobu, Kanae stood by her head, her expression sad. You know what to do.

Shinobu closed her eyes. Somewhere, a coin glinted in the sun, flipping through the air. Somewhere, the wisteria trees perfumed the air with their sticky, sweet scent. If she were honest, she’d made her decision long before that. The second she’d picked up her sister’s abandoned sword, rage swirling in her petite body, she’d known one way or another this was her destiny.

Grabbing her sword, Shinobu took a deep breath. Maybe she should have closed that gap, reached over and grabbed Giyuu’s hand. Or prepared Kanao better, there were so many things she’d wanted to teach her.

Damn it all, she thought she’d prepared herself for this, but there were so many things she wanted to do, to say. Her sister stared down at her and Shinobu hoped she wasn’t disappointed that she was going to die the same way she had.

“Is that all?” Doma sighed, his voice grating her ears.

“No,” she gritted out, forcing herself to stand.

It was too late for regrets.

The coin had landed heavily, the symbol digging into her skin. Heads, she had declared, her heart heavy with resignation. I guess I’ll do it.

Shinobu raised her sword and charged.

#shinobu kochō #tomioka giyuu #kanao tsuyuri #kamado tanjirou #kimetsu no yaiba #kny #fanfic #giyushino #if you squint

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bloodraven55 · 4 years

Text

“But Bumbleby was rushed/forced to pander to the gays—”

There are a number of glaring flaws in this argument, most of all the fact that no straight relationship is ever called “forced” or “pandering” even if people don’t like it, let alone “rushed” when it’s only on the verge of officially happening seven seasons into the show, but I want to break down all of the many levels on which it’s wrong in order to hopefully kill it once and for all.

“It came out of nowhere—”

Jaune was crushing on Weiss the second he saw her, Sun was crushing on Blake the moment he saw her, Pyrrha developed feelings for Jaune in just one Volume and showed some interest from the moment she saw him, and Blake goes from being consistently annoyed at Sun throughout Volumes 1 and 2 to suddenly having a crush on him in Volume 3.

If Bumbleby supposedly “came out of nowhere,” then so did W/hite Knight, A/rkos, and B/lacksun. But no one ever has an issue with the speed at which those characters started having romantic interest in each other. And I’m not even saying they should—they’re all very valid ships and whether they came out of nowhere or not isn’t the point of this—but there’s a clear double standard applied to same sex ships as opposed to heterosexual ships here and it invalidates this point right out of the gate.

“It was rushed—”

Blake and Yang are only just now close to becoming an official couple after more than six whole Volumes of knowing each other. There is no possible universe where this would qualify as “rushed.” Again, W/hite Knight and B/lacksun albeit both one-sided at least to begin with both became obvious things within literal episodes of the characters meeting, and Jaune and Pyrrha were showing blatant romantic interest in each other by Volume 2 before kissing in Volume 3.

In the last case you can argue that it went at a faster pace because Pyrrha was going to die, but that doesn't change the fact that no one complained that it went too quickly—or about the other two ships I mentioned which were both initially based solely on one (1) instance of a guy showing interest in a girl—and yet people say it’s too soon for Blake and Yang to get together when they’ve had over twice as long for their relationship to develop.

“The shippers forced it into the show—”

I don’t think I even need to add any more here when the words of CRWBY speak for themselves.

“Toxic shippers think everything is gay—”

I mean, I’m gay and I only truly ship a handful of the possible same sex pairings in the show—certainly far from the majority of them—and I also ship a number of straight ships, but go off I guess.

I already made a post on this here, but it’s insanely dismissive and ridiculous for heterosexual people i.e. the ones who usually use this “argument” to assume that they know better than actual LGBT+ people what is or isn’t good LGBT+ representation, and for them to assume that just because they missed build up that it therefore isn’t there.

I can’t take someone seriously when they go into a discussion determined to believe that they’re already right and don’t listen to a word you say to prove otherwise, especially when they’re debating on a topic which doesn’t directly affect them and which they don’t have the same level of firsthand knowledge of.

“The wasps only care about Blake and Yang getting in each other’s pants—”

Actually, it’s the people who are most aggressively against Blake and Yang being a couple that tend to reduce their relationship to being entirely about sex even though they haven’t had a single remotely sexual interaction in the show, but if this were true then surely Bumbleby shippers would be very unhappy with the show because Blake and Yang have still not “got in each other’s pants,” or “swapped clit juice” as I once saw someone tastefully describe it?

But that isn’t right. Because in general us Bee shippers are currently exceedingly happy with everything that’s happening in the show to do with Blake and Yang’s relationship. So how can that be if all we care about is whether they fuck or not?

The answer is of course that we don’t only care about whether they fuck or not—in fact most of us couldn’t care less whether it’s ever so much as hinted that they have sex, both because the show almost certainly won’t ever go there and because that isn’t our priority—we’re just enjoying watching them fall in love.

Honestly this argument is one of the most lazy because one look at RWBY will tell you that none of the romances are at all sexual thus far so any shippers who truly only care about that aspect wouldn’t stick around very long when they’ll just end up disappointed. And of course the way that these people inherently view same sex relationships as sexual is homophobic and disgusting too.

“CRWBY rushed it to give the rabid shippers what they want—”

Like the last two points, this is a “criticism” that I’ve only ever seen levelled at same sex ships and never straight ships, so it’s yet another example of double standards and hypocrisy, but that’s only the start of what’s wrong with it.

The most galling thing about this is that these people insist that all LGBT+ people because as I’ve already mentioned that is always the group which statements like this are aimed at just want to see two characters of the same gender make out as soon as possible, which is simply not true.

No one would ever claim that straight people just want to see a man and a woman get it on as soon as possible and dismiss the worth of a straight relationship because of it. So it’s ridiculous to try and force that logic onto shippers of same sex ships, who are primarily LGBT+ people themselves.

If anything, we care even more about the quality of our ships—how healthy they are, whether they’re well built up or not, etc.—because we hardly have any to begin with in comparison. If one straight ship is rushed or poorly written, then there are plenty of well-handled ones to choose from instead, but the same isn’t the case for same sex ships.

We want to be represented well, which means that we want healthy relationships with plenty of development where the characters actually have chemistry and complement each other. We might still support rushed or badly-written same sex ships sometimes because it’s still representation which we are overall sorely lacking, but we don’t want them.

“But they ship baited with Blake and Sun—”

First off, straight ships can’t be baited the same way that same sex ships can. It’s simply not a comparable situation. But of course B/lacksun shippers are entitled to feel disappointed that their ship didn’t become canon. That’s utterly valid and understandable. However, that doesn’t mean that the writers or the show in any way misled viewers regarding what was happening.

“But Sun winked at Blake—”

And Yang also winked at Blake in Volume 2 while asking her to the dance, just like Sun winked at Blake in Volume 1 and then asked Blake to the dance. And Blake turned Sun down when he asked initially, specifically told him that they were only “technically” going together when she ran into him outside, and told him definitively that she had chosen to give her first dance to Yang.

“But Blake blushed at Sun—”

And now she’s also blushed at Yang, in a far more intimate scene at that. Next point.

“But Sun met Blake’s parents—”

And? Simply meeting someone’s parents doesn’t on any level automatically imply romance. Ghira didn’t even like Sun, and while a lot of people like to claim that Kali “ships it” which would be extremely flimsy evidence to base the canonicity of a ship on anyway, she’s someone who would do the same with anyone Blake brought home so it means nothing. If Blake had actually chosen to take Sun home with her herself then this would be a valid point, but she didn’t, so it has no weight whatsoever overall.

“But Blake kissed Sun on the cheek—”

And I kiss my mother on the cheek the exact same way every time I say goodbye to her. If you think that type of kiss on the cheek has to be romantic then quite frankly I’m not sure what world you’re living in. If the camera had been close up, if there had been any shots at all of their reactions, any blushing or lingering looks, a more private setting— literally anything to give it some actual weight and make it feel significant, then this might mean something, but it’s framed as a totally platonic goodbye with zero romantic coding.

And that’s without even mentioning the fact that right after that moment Sun flat out states that his time with Blake was “never about [romance],” which sort of kills the idea that anything about that scene was supposed to be taken as romantic. There was no reason to include that line except to make it clear to the audience that Sun and Blake parted ways as friends who now have no intention of ever becoming anything more.

Seriously, if they wanted us to think that there was still something there, then Blake would have been shown to be thinking about or missing Sun even one since they separated, but he hasn’t been brought up for even a second. If they wanted to set up a continuation of anything romantic for them when the group reach Vacuo, say, then they would have started doing it by now.

Plus the reverse argument that Blake and Sun have never hugged or held hands—both of which Blake and Yang have done multiple times—works just as well, perhaps even better since handholding is a well-established romantic cue in the show already thanks to A/rkos, R/enora, and O/zma and Salem.

“But why was Sun even there in Volumes 4 and 5 then—”

Because Blake needed a friend who she could exposition to about her thought processes and personal problems so that the audience could understand what she was going through, and she wasn’t as likely to open up to her parents about that stuff right away when she was convinced they’d hate her for leaving.

Sun was there to support Blake as she developed and to tell her that running away hurt the very people she was trying to protect. That was his narrative role in that arc. There was nothing to indicate that a romance was being built in those more than twenty episodes they spent together and if it was going to happen that would have been the time to do it.

On the other hand Blake and Yang’s shared arc together is built on the fact that Blake’s romantic ex, who Blake had already directly contrasted with Yang and whose Semblance was already a foil to Yang’s, maimed Yang specifically because Blake loves her. The basis of that arc has romantic weight, which is what makes the difference here. Though the scene at the end of Volume 3 where Adam takes Yang’s arm isn’t romantic in and of itself, I should clarify, it just has romantic significance in that it makes it clear that Blake and Yang’s feelings go beyond mere friendship.

In short, the summary of this whole section pretty much boils down to: two characters spending time together doesn't inherently equal romantic development, and it isn’t in any way “baiting” if those two characters don’t then get together.

The characters’ feelings follow a fairly logical progression over the course of the show, with Blake showing interest in both Sun and Yang in V1-V3, then ceasing to show interest in Sun after that as their relationship becomes totally platonic by Volume 5/the beginning of Volume 6 at the very latest, while the events of the Fall of Beacon only solidified how strong her feelings for Yang were and once she reunites with Yang their relationship begins to head towards romance.

It’s a pretty realistic depiction of how human feelings work, and a far less messy situation than in a lot of other shows where there isn’t the same massive level of hatred and vitriol towards the “victorious” pairing, because this was never even really presented as a love triangle or rivalry.

To conclude, I just want to list some of the contradictions that I’ve seen within the arguments made against Bumbleby, because I think it’s very telling that the people who are against it can’t even settle on one coherent narrative on why it’s bad.

“Bumbleby has no development, but also the show focusses too much on Bumbleby.”

“Monty wouldn’t have wanted Bumbleby—it goes against his vision—even though I didn’t know him and have no idea what his vision actually was, and he explicitly stated that he wanted LGBT+ characters in the show who might already be in the main cast and that he wanted Blake and Yang to have a shared arc together, as well as being responsible for the set up of that arc with Blake and Yang being introduced as Beauty and the Beast while Adam canonically represents Gaston.”

“The Bumbleby shippers have so much influence that they forced the writers to make the ship canon, but they’re also just a vocal minority who don’t matter.”

“Blake and Yang hardly interact—they’re barely even friends—but they also interact too much and it’s making Bumbleby take over the show.”

“Arryn is a victim of the toxic wasps who harrassed her and sent her death threats for saying that the song Bmblb doesn't automatically make the ship canon, which there is zero evidence of, but Arryn is also an unprofessional cunt for expressing her support of Bumbleby.”

“None of Blake and Yang’s scenes together are romantic so Bumbleby is forced, but even when they have undeniably romantic interactions I’ll ignore them or deny that they mean anything so I can still pretend it has no build up.”

“Bumbleby is bad because Team RWBY are a sisterhood, but all of the other straight relationships within teams—even those who’ve flat out called each other ”family”—are fine, and I’ll just pretend that there aren’t other definitions of the word sisterhood which have nothing to do with actual sisters and are the ones that actually apply in this case.”

“Blake and Yang’s relationship could be seen as romantic or platonic, but I personally think they’re just friends so Bumbleby is bad and came out of nowhere.”

I’ve seen all of these countless times with my own two eyes and it’s absolutely hilarious to be honest. Anyway that’s it. I have yet to see a single logical argument as to why Bumbleby is bad that isn’t made in bad faith, fallacious, or just doesn’t hold up when you actually look at the show. It’s about to be canon, and at this point to be honest anyone who doesn't like that can simply accept it or go and watch something else that will pander to their specific tastes instead.

#rwby #rwde #bumbleby #blake belladonna #yang xiao long #raven is salty about stuff

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fanfics4all · 4 years

Text

New Family

Request: Yes / No Hi, May I request a Maggie Greene x Male Reader smut &fluff? Reader is a single father and always has been since the birth of his daughter and death of his wife. She’s a teen and reader has taught her self defense and how to fend off walkers with guns and melee weapons. R and her come across Maggie and they help her. Reader and her hit it off and they stay together ever since. Reader daughter really likes her and sees they’re clearly into each other. (1/2) One day, the readers daughter asks to take care of Maggie kid so the reader and Maggie can have some time for they’re selves and cause she wants to see the reader and her happy.Reader and Maggie are enjoying each other and bond over things but they had enough and eventually start making out since they’ve long for one another and then they have sex and it’s very intimate and passionate. Months later Maggie is pregnant and couple months later they have their kid and have a nice small family. (2/2) Anon

Don’t be shy, request things! <3 Have a nice day/night

Maggie Greene x Male!Reader

Word count: 1712

Warnings: Talk about people dying and Smut!

Y/N: Your Name

PLEASE DO NOT STEAL MY WORK, I WORK HARD ON MY FICS AND IT’S NOT COOL TO STEAL SOMEONE ELSE’S WORK!

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Masterlist

(Not my photo, credit to whoever made it!)

When the world ended I gathered my family up and we ran. Two years in and my wife got separated from us and I found her as a walker a few days later. It was hard on my daughter since she was so young, but she was strong. I realized she needed to grow up too soon. I taught her how to defend herself and she knew how to use a gun, all at the age of ten. She was so strong, just like her Mother. Over the years we were alone, just the two of us. But we had met this man who called himself Jesus and he brought us to his group. They were a little wary of us at first, since they had gone through some serious shit in the past, but their leader, a woman named Maggie, took a chance on us. I think it was because she’s also a parent, but I can’t be sure.

I had taken a liking to Maggie and my daughter could clearly see that. She was always trying to push us to get to know each other better and I was shocked that she was wanting me to move on from her Mother.

“Dad seriously I think she likes you too!” Payton, my daughter, said as we sat at the table for dinner.

“I don’t know honey…” I sighed.

“Come on, Mom would want you to be happy!” She said.

“You’re really okay with seeing me with another woman?” I asked and she smiled.

“Of course! You’ve been so worried about me for years, now we’re safe so it’s my turn to take care of you.” She answered.

“So you taking care of me is setting me up?” I asked with a smirk.

“If it’ll make you happy, then yeah.” She said and I shook my head with a smile.

“Fine, after dinner I’ll see if she wants one of your apple pastries.” I said and she smiled.

“Perfect! She really fall for you then.” She said and I shook my head.

“Whatever you say Honey.” I said.

We finished dinner and as promised I took one of Payton’s pastries and headed over to Maggie’s. I knocked on the door and she answered with little Hershel on her hip.

“Y/N!” She said with a surprised tone.

“Sorry, am I bothering you?” I asked and she shook her head with a smile.

“Not at all, just about to put him to bed, come in.” She said, letting me inside.

“I’ll be right back, make yourself at home.” She said and walked upstairs. I looked around at the pictures and music she had, it was really impressive. She returned a bit later and I smiled at her.

“Sorry about that, how can I help you?” She asked.

“Nothing actually, Payton made these and we were wondering if you would like one.” I said offering her the pastry.

“Well thank you.” She smiled and took it from me.

“So how are you today?” I asked as she sat down.

“I’m good, what about you?” She asked.

“Good, Payton’s been settling in great, it’s really nice to see her smile again.” I answered, also taking a seat.

“She’s a really great kid.” She said.

“Yeah, she’s so much like her Mother…” I said with a sigh.

“What happened to her?” She asked.

“When Payton was ten we got separated from her Mother, a week or so later I found her and she was a walker. It was so hard on both of us, but that’s when I realized I really needed to teach her how to defend herself. She grew up too soon, but I supposed that was for the best.” I answered.

“I know what that’s like… My husband, Hershal’s Daddy, he was killed before Hershal was born. He was killed right in front of me and it hurt because there was nothing I could do to save him…” She said looking down at her ring.

“I’m so sorry.” I said and grabbed her hand to comfort her.

“I have Hershal to remind me of him and I’m so happy with him.” She said and I gave her a small smile.

“I feel the same way about Payton.” I said and she smiled. We spent a few more hours talking and it was really nice. When I got back home Payton was asleep on the couch, no doubt trying to wait up for me. I grabbed a blanket and put it over her then kissed her head.

Over the next few weeks Maggie and I admitted that we both had feelings for each other and we’ve been together since then. Payton was so happy when we told her and she was excited that she pretty much had a baby brother now. Today Maggie didn’t really have too much responsibilities to deal with and neither did I. We were talking about having a night to ourselves, but with Hershal and Payton around we weren’t sure if that would happen.

“We could always ask someone to watch Hershal and I’m sure Payton will find something to do.” I said and she sighed.

“Yeah, but everyone’s already so busy. Maybe we could just try again tomorrow?” She asked.

“Try what again tomorrow?” Payton asked, walking into the room.

“Nothing honey.” I answered.

“Come on Dad, just tell me.” She said and I looked at Maggie.

“We were planning on having a date night tonight, but we don’t have anyone to watch Hershal.” I said and she smirked.

“Oh I get it, I’ll watch him.” She said walking over to his playpen.

“Are you sure? Don’t you have plans with some friends tonight?” Maggie asked.

“Not really, besides, I love spending time with little H.” She said picking him up. She kissed his cheek then started blowing on his stomach, causing him to giggle.

“You guys hardly get to spend time alone, so I’m not taking no for an answer.” She said and grabbed his bag.

“We’ll be back at ten!” She said and left the house.

“That was unexpected.” Maggie said.

“I can’t say I’m shocked.” I laughed. Maggie gave me a smile and I walked over to her.

“Since we’re alone…” I said trailing my fingers down her spine. She shuddered at the touch and I smirked.

“How about we go to the bedroom?” I asked and she nodded. We quickly went to the bedroom and I pulled Maggie to me. I kissed her deeply and gently grabbed her ass. She started undoing the buttons on my shirt and pushed it off my body. I kissed my way down to her neck and she moaned. I nibbled softly at her skin, making her moan more. She pulled away and we quickly got undressed. Maggie gently pushed me onto the bed and she straddled me. She kissed down my chest and to my dick. She slowly took my in her mouth and I moaned at the feeling. She bobbed her head up and down gently and it felt so good. After a bit I pulled her off me and laid her down. I kissed her lips and kissed my way to her ear.

“I love you.” I whispered and gently tugged at her ear with my teeth. She moaned and pulled me back for a kiss.

“I love you too.” She said. I lined myself up with her entrance and looked at her for confirmation, before I pushed my way inside. She moaned and pulled me down for a kiss. I started my pace off slow at first, but she begged me to go fast, so I did. I pumped in and out of her, moaning in her ear at how good she felt around me. She also moaned in my ear.

“Oh Y/N! Yes!” She moaned and I felt her cum. I could feel myself getting close as well, but I didn’t want this moment to end. I slowed down my pace a little, but she wanted it faster. I obliged her and as she came the second time, I let go as well.

“Maggie!” I moaned.

“Y/N!” She moaned as we finished together. I laid down beside her and pulled her close to me.

“I really love you, Maggie.” I said and she smiled.

“And I really love you, Y/N.” She said and kissed me.

A few weeks later and Maggie was feeling sick in the mornings. We both knew what that could mean and so I went out on a run to try and find a pregnancy test. Luckily I found one and Maggie took it. Payton was watching Hershal again and we were waiting for the test to be ready. After the few minutes we looked and she was pregnant.

“How do you feel about this?” We both asked at the same time. We chuckled, but then went back to worrying.

“I’m… I’m happy.” She said and I smiled.

“So am I, and I can tell you right now that Payton will be too.” I said and she laughed.

“I’m sure she will.” She said and I pulled her in for a hug.

“We’re having a baby.” She whispered and I kissed the top of her head.

Sure enough when we told Payton she was so excited to have another sibling. She was a huge help during Maggie’s pregnancy too, not just with Hershal. When the day finally came for Maggie to give birth I was freaking out. Payton calmed me down and we helped Maggie to the medical bay. Enid and Siddiq were ready to help. Payton went back to the house to get Hershal and I stayed with Maggie the whole time. Lucky for us we had a healthy baby girl.

“What are you gonna name her?” Enid asked.

“What about Gwen?” Maggie suggested and I felt tears come to my eyes. Payton walked over, also with tears in her eyes.

“M-My Mom’s name?” Payton asked.

“If it’s okay with you two.” She said and I looked at Payton and she nodded.

“Gwen it is.” I said and held my daughter to me. I kissed her head, then leaned down to kiss Maggie. Our family was perfect. Even at the end of the world, good things can happen.

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#The Walking Dead #the walking dead imagine #maggie greene #maggie greene x reader #maggie greene x male!reader #maggie x reader #maggie x male!reader #fanfic #request #walking dead season 9 #the walking dead season 9

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