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hazzasgayvodka · 3 years

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Panty Thief - Harry Styles

So this is kind of a trial run for this fic, I’m inclined to make this a series but I’m not sure how the response to it will be. I have lots of ideas for more parts to this but only if it’s what the people want haha. Here is my belated Valentine’s Day gift to all you lovelies I hope you enjoy this heavy daddy kink/dom harry fic I’ve been working on for ages!

p.s. everyone say thank you Nathan for giving me lots of smut inspiration this is literally based on him sorta

pairing: daddy!harry x oc

warning: sexual content, smut, daddy kink/dom vibes so if you’re not here for that this is not for you

word count: 5k

In which Harry is a new student at Harley’s university and he seems to just keep popping up everywhere. The tension between them is palpable and she can’t get away from him, especially when he happens to knock on her door with a pair of her favorite red lace panties she left in the laundromat dangling from his finger.

I roll my eyes as the lady in front of me in line takes out yet another handful of coupons from her purse at the checkout counter. The cashier looks almost as annoyed as I am, but still sporting a smile despite the absolute exasperation rampant in her eyes. She takes the handful of coupons and starts scanning them begrudgingly as the woman digs around in her purse for anymore and I hardly even notice my foot tapping as my eyes instinctively roll once again. I just came to get toilet roll, ice cream, and a bottle of prosecco and the universe decides today is the day coupon Karen ends up at the checkout line five minutes before I do.

“I like your hair.” A voice speaks up behind me.

I know they must be talking to me, I don’t believe any other boring college blonde in this line warrants a compliment like that but the bright purple curls I sport tend to elicit quite the reaction from bystanders, especially the uninteresting conservatives of Publix.

“How do you uh, get it that color?”

I finally turn my head over my shoulder to face the voice, a tall guy with tousled brown hair and quite the shit eating grin on his face. He’s obviously very pleased with himself finally getting me to turn around but I can’t be bothered to entertain this excited puppy of a man with more than a word.

“Dye.”

I’ve barely even gotten the word out of my mouth before I turn back to face the cashier with an uninterested eyeroll. He scoffs behind me, clearly not giving up that easily.

“Wow,” He chuckles, “At least you’re straightforward.”

I turn back around without thinking to face him once again, “Hair dye, idiot.”

“Oh, well I could have guessed that much.”

I turn away from him again just as coupon lady finally pushes her rattling cart towards the exit doors and the cashier gestures for me to come up to the checkout. I drop my basket on the conveyor belt with a thud and she rings it up quickly, sensing my impatience and clearly wanting to get me the hell out of here as quickly as she can. I pay and grab my bags to head for the door and just before I’m home free the voice is suddenly behind me yet again.

“So, are you really not going to tell me?” He asks, catching up to me outside, “It’s going to keep me up tonight, I’m waiting with bated breath over here.”

“Tell you what exactly?” I huff, finally turning to face him.

“How you get your hair that color, of course.”

I roll my eyes, surely, he’s not keeping this bit up for the sake of hitting on me in the fucking supermarket, “Do you want something from me?”

He chuckles a bit, and I’m glad to see my utter frustration is amusing to him, “I mean,” He starts, rubbing the back of his neck, “Maybe your name would be cool.”

“No thanks.”

“Well, I’m Harry-“

I turn and walk away before he’s barely got the sentence out of his mouth. What was he even in line to buy? He wasn’t carrying any bags.

Mental note: always wear headphones to the grocery store.

***

“You’re late.”

I collapse in the seat next to my friend Danielle with a huff. She gives me a certain look that says something like you’ve been late the past three times too, but honestly at this point she should know to expect it.

“I’m always late,” I groan, attempting to lean back in the incredibly uncomfortable library chair, “So, why are we at the library?”

“We have a math test tomorrow, or did you forget about that?” She asks, scolding me over the top of her math book.

“Of course I remembered,” I say sarcastically, “Math is my absolute favorite subject how could I ever forget we had a test?”

She rolls her eyes, turning her book to the right page to start taking notes and I try my best to follow along, “So do you have a legitimate reason for the lateness or just regular Harley excuses?”

“Actually, I do,” I say matter-of-factly, sitting back up straight in my chair, “There was a freak at the grocery store, dude would not leave me alone.”

“What was he doing?” She asks, suddenly interested.

“Just talking? I guess? He like wanted to have a whole conversation waiting to check out.”

“So, a nice guy just struck up some conversation with you at the store and that’s a bad thing?”

“Yes,” I huff, closing the book once again, “I was just there to get groceries I didn’t need the extra human interaction.”

She opens her mouth to reply but she’s cut off as a group of guys walk in the front door of the library talking at full volume. I can feel almost every person in the room turn in the direction of the loud noise at the front and suddenly my eyes land on him. There’s no fucking way.

“Dani,” I whisper, sliding down in my seat so I can go unseen, “Dani that’s the guy, the guy from earlier.”

“What?” She whispers harshly, trying not to stare as the boys get scolded by the librarian at the front, “You mean grocery store guy?”

“Yes!” I huff, electing to sit in my chair backwards so my back is to him.

“No way Harley, it just looks like him-”

“No Dani, it’s him,” I whisper, “Tall one with the curly hair in the black hoodie.”

“That’s him?” She asks, “You had a problem with that talking to you?”

“Shh!” I huff, “God he’s going to hear you, are they still at the front?”

“They um, yeah,” She stutters, her eyes diverting to her book again, “They’re still up there, at a table now.”

“What’s wrong?” I ask, sensing the discomfort in her voice and turning around myself.

My eyes immediately lock onto his and I look away quickly, shielding my face from him with my hand and turning back towards Danielle.

“He’s staring right at you.” She says, trying not to be too obvious.

“Yep.”

“Are you gonna go over there?”

“Why would I do that exactly?” I ask, my eyebrow raised in disbelief.

“Because a hot boy is staring you down across the fucking library!” She whispers harshly, reaching over to smack me in the arm.

“More like a fucking psychopa-”

“Hey there,” I hear his voice cut in and my whole body cringes in on itself without my volition, “Fancy meeting you here.”

I turn around in my chair, forcing myself to face him while my whole face heats and I’m sure I’m the color of a rather ripe tomato. Something about the way he says hey there in that fucking accent makes my entire body tense up.

“Hey there,” I mimic, “Long time no see.”

I feel Danielle’s eyes on me as the words come out of my mouth, her gaze flickering between the two of us and watching the horrifically awkward exchange play out in front of her.

He laughs, electing to lean on the table, “What are you doing after this?”

“She’s doing absolutely nothing.” Danielle answers for me and I kick her under the table, making her wince.

“Glad to hear it,” He grins, his eyes zeroing in on me once again.

“I’m very busy actually,” I cut in, closing my textbook and throwing it in my bag, “We both are, but um, I’ll see you around.”

Danielle is looking at me with eyes the size of dinner plates as she frantically packs up her stuff, shoving it in her bag to follow suit. I stand up from my chair, slinging my bag over my shoulder and he rounds the table to stand right in front of me, the only thing between me and the front door.

“Can I at least get your name?” He asks, his voice incredibly deep clearly for only me to hear.

“Harley,” I quip, side stepping around him, “See you later uh, Harold is it?”

He gives me a very particular look as I walk away from him, taking steps backward and relishing in the smirk on his face. He knows what I’m doing. I feel Dani’s hand grab my arm and I finally turn around to face the door, walking through it, but even as I’m outside and carrying my feet down the steps I feel his eyes on me, drilling into the back of my head.

“The hell was that?” Danielle asks, “He was so cute and you just, you just blow it like that?”

“Harmless flirting.”

“You call that flirting?”

“Oh Dani,” I sigh, taking out a cigarette and lighting it between my lips, “I call that winning.”

***

I’m woken up with a start when I hear the loud roar of music start from Dani’s room. She always blasts music in the morning while getting ready for class. I look over my shoulder to check the time, at least she waited until 10 to start with the noise. My head is pounding ever so slightly, and I realize why when my eyes land on the empty bottle of pink Moscato on my bedside table.

I drag myself out of bed and into the tiny common space between our two rooms, “Good morning sleeping beauty,” Danielle teases, “I noticed the bottle of wine went missing from the fridge.”

“That’s bizarre,” I joke, “Must be a wine thief in the dorms. I’ll get on that mystery right away.”

She shakes her head at me, rolling her eyes as I grab my basket of laundry from my room. I slide on a pair of slippers electing to go put it in the wash, so I hopefully have a single clean pair of jeans for class tonight. I call to Dani letting her know I’ll be right back and as soon as I open the door to the hall I’m staring at him.

“You have got to be fucking kidding me.” I groan.

He stops dead in his tracks, taking a glance over his shoulder to see me standing in my doorway. He’s dressed in only a towel, holding it closed while it hangs low on his hips. His hair is wet, clearly making his way back to his room from the showers and his chest and arms are rippling with muscles under his damp skin.

God those arms could crush me like a grape.

“Morning neighbor,” He grins, clearly getting a kick out of this, “Someone wake up on the wrong side of the bed today?”

“You’re in this building?”

“You bet, room 7C down the hall.”

“Well, neighbor, for future reference, most people in this building take their clothes to the shower with them.”

“You Americans,” He chuckles, starting to walk away from my doorway, “So prude, have a nice day Harley.”

He disappears down the hall and then behind his door and my mind gets to work on picturing what he looks like without the towel. You can nearly feel the tension between us in the air, it was palpable. I could even feel his eyes on me, looking me up and down and lingering on my lips. I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to clear my head as I take a deep breath and start on my way to the laundry room downstairs.

I put a load in the wash, briefly tuning into the dramatic soap playing on the tiny TV hung on the wall. I decide to head back to my now empty room since Danielle left for class and end up wasting most of my day away on a bad Netflix original movie, only pausing half way through to go move my clothes to the dryer.

I order a pizza for dinner before my night class and go back downstairs to grab my laundry out of the dryer. Just as I’m opening the dryer and emptying my clothes back into my basket I get a text that the pizza guy is downstairs waiting for me.

“Shit, shit, shit.” I huff under my breath, quickly shoving all my clothes in my basket and slamming the dryer shut behind me.

I rush back to my dorm, chucking the basket of clean clothes inside before heading to the stairwell and nearly sprinting down them to get to the ground floor. I meet the rather impatient pizza guy downstairs before bringing the food back up to my room. I’ve just barely finished the first slice half way through a Criminal Minds episode when there’s a knock at the door. I groan, dragging myself from the couch and tossing the blanket off.

I open the door, rolling my eyes, “Dani, you have got to start remembering your key when you-” I’m cut off as I come face to face with him rather than Dani, “Oh, um, hi?”

“Hi,” He repeats, now dressed in a pair of grey joggers and a plain black t-shirt, “I believe you dropped something in the laundry room earlier.”

He reveals his arm from behind his back, holding out his hand with my bright red lacy thong dangling from his pointer finger. I can feel my entire face heat to match the shade of my panties, but I won’t let him get the satisfaction. I go to snatch them from his hand, but he stops me, gripping them in his fist instead and using them as leverage to pull me a bit closer to him.

“Probably want to be a bit more careful where you leave your panties lying around, darling,” He smirks, “Unless you want to leave them on my bedroom floor of course.”

It’s the final straw, those few words spoken in his deliciously deep voice absolutely dripping with that amazing accented tone, on top of the way he’s dressed, every muscle visible beneath the fabric of his t-shirt. I don’t know what I’m doing until I’m pulling him to me by my own grip on the lacy underwear between us, my mouth meeting his and his teeth instantly biting my bottom lip between them.

“Yours or mine?” He breathes out, pulling away from me just long enough to get the words out.

“Where’s your roommate?” I ask breathlessly.

“Vacation,” He says, “Till Wednesday.”

“Yours,” I laugh, pressing my lips back to his, “Definitely yours.”

He walks me backwards down the hall to his dorm room, shoving me up against the wall as he unlocks the door, his lips working down my neck. As soon as the door is open he walks me through it, bending down to grab the backs of my thighs and hoisting me into the air. He kicks the door closed with his foot and I laugh against his mouth as he carries me past his bedroom doorway, slamming that behind us as well.

He lays me out on the bed, nearly tossing me right on top of the mattress, my lacy red underwear still gripped in his hand.

“Any chance you got something this cute under there?” He chuckles, holding them up in both hands to really show them off.

“Why don’t you come find out?” I tease.

He rolls his eyes, finally kneeling onto the edge of the bed and crawling over to me. He starts to lean over me, but I shove his shoulder, forcing him to lay against the mattress before swinging my leg over him. I can feel him underneath me immediately and it makes my legs clench together on either side of him.

“Hi,” I breathe, planting my hands on his chest and meeting his eyes.

“Hi,” He repeats back to me, that bright smile of his making my stomach flip, “You gonna come down here or...?”

“Oh, shut up,” I laugh finally leaning down and connecting our lips once again.

His lips are ridiculously soft against mine while the feeling of his muscles under his t-shirt are quite the opposite. He reaches up to cup my face with both hands, trying to somehow pull me closer as if we aren’t close enough as it is. I can’t figure out exactly where I want to put my hands; his shoulders, his biceps, god, in that amazing curly hair.

My hips start to move against him without my volition and he groans into my mouth, a deliciously deep reverberation that makes me grind my hips into him even more. He grunts against my lips, finally pulling away and resting his forehead against mine instead, breathing heavily.

“You alright there tiger?” I tease him, threading my fingers through his hair, “Need a breather already?”

“Shut your mouth,” He chuckles, grabbing me around the waist and trying to flip us over so he’s on top.

He greatly underestimates the size of his twin dorm bed when he does so, both of us rolling off the edge and tumbling to the shag carpeted floor beneath us. I expect the mood to be ruined, for him to get up and usher me right out the door because how awkward is this, right? I’m beyond surprised when he starts laughing, both of us splayed flat on our backs and heaves out a sigh as he rolls over to face me again.

“That was pretty smooth of me, eh?” He jokes, “Are you okay? Are you hurt?”

I shake my head, chuckling too, “No I’m okay, just gonna have a massive bruise on my ass most likely.”

He laughs again, finally pulling himself to his feet and offering me a hand to help me up. I’m not sure what I expect past that, maybe a hug to send me on my way now that the atmosphere has completely changed but that tension is still between us, the same tension that’s been building since the moment he said a single word in the supermarket.

The second I’m back on my feet he shoves me onto the bed and I can’t even begin to hide the shock in my features. He’s back on top of me in seconds, his lips pressed to mine and I’m sure the surprised whimper that leaves my mouth fuels his ego to the gods.

“You alright there tiger?” He mocks, and I resist the urge to reach up and slap him.

“Careful.” I quip, pulling away from him to meet his eyes.

“Careful?” He asks, quirking up his eyebrow at me, “I’m sorry are you telling me what to do sweetheart?”

I gulp, the smooth but stern voice he’s using making my thighs quiver. He seems to notice, his eyes darting down between us and a small chuckle escaping his lips. He looks back up at me, his eyes dark and brooding, before they flicker to my hands at my sides. He grabs my left wrist roughly, holding it above my head against the mattress before doing the same to my right arm as well. I’m nearly squirming underneath him, my entire body steaming to the touch as his eyes bore into mine.

“Something wrong, love?” He asks, the condescending tone to his voice making my whole body shake.

“Course not,” I pant, my breath coming out heavier than I anticipated, “Just fuckin peachy over here.”

He chuckles a bit, his grip on my wrists growing tighter, “You’re not very patient, you know that?”

I’m not sure what it is that’s making me writhe the way I am; perhaps it’s the countless months I’ve gone without sex since my last messy breakup, or maybe it’s the way in which this all panned out with a stranger over some fucking underwear, or fuck, maybe it’s just him and the way that cocky smirk on his face makes my insides twist.

“Patience is a virtue,” I say carefully, making sure to keep my tone even, “I’m more about vices.”

His left hand releases my wrist and I prepare myself for his hand reaching where I need him most, sucking in a breath between my teeth and letting my eyes flutter closed but it never comes. My eyes peel back open to see his hand hovering over my neck instead. He meets my eyes before his fingers finally grace the skin of my throat, applying just the slightest bit of pressure almost as if to test the waters.

I’m nearly dizzy as he does so, the temperature in this room suddenly a million degrees. He removes his hand again, the pressure around my throat leaving me and I whimper in distaste, making him chuckle again.

“Poor thing,” He chastises, my legs clenching together on either side of him, “I can’t do it all though, if only there was a way I could hold down both your wrists and choke that pretty neck.”

I watch his hand dig into the pocket of his joggers and once again pull out the thin red lacy fabric of my panties, holding them between us.

“Mind if I use these?” He asks, clearly knowing the answer but wanting to get a reaction out of me anyways.

“Yes, god,” I gulp, “Please.”

He grabs my hands, moving them completely above my head before wrapping the panties around them a few times, tying them together. He tugs on them a bit to make sure they’re pretty secure before looking back down at me, his eyes completely blown out in lust, his pupil swallowing his surrounding iris.

His lips are back on mine in seconds, his now free hands roaming my body before one hand rests on my neck, gripping the sides and applying a bit more pressure than the last time. I whimper into this mouth and curse myself for doing so as soon as my eyes flutter open to see that cocky smirk on his face once again.

��Eager, sweetheart?” He teases, and my hand reaches up to smack him before I remember I’m bound in a pair of my own underwear, “Ah, ah, be a good girl and stay still.”

Hearing the words good girl come out of his mouth makes my entire body squirm and he grins again, that lopsided condescending grin and I know he’s getting off on this, making me writhe underneath him. He leans down to kiss my stomach, hiking my shirt up as he goes before working his way down and tugging my pants down my legs. I hold my breath in anticipation but when I look down the bed to meet his eyes he simply kisses the inside of my thighs, ghosting his mouth over the thin fabric of my panties.

“Fucking please,” I beg, my breath coming out in heaves, “Is this some kind of joke to you?”

“Please what, princess?” He asks, my legs threatening to squeeze his head between them, “Tell me what you want, hm?”

“You cocky bastard,” I huff, my mind getting fuzzier by the second the closer he gets to my center, “You know what I want.”

He stops abruptly, sitting back up from his small assault on my inner thighs, “What did you say, love? Care to repeat that? Couldn’t quite here you down here.”

There’s an edge to his voice, like glass, it cuts right through me and makes my thighs quiver, “N-no,” I stutter, “Didn’t say anything.”

“That’s what I thought,” He grins, leaning back down between my legs, “Now be a good girl and tell me what you want me to do to you.”

I suck in a breath sharply, but I won’t let him know how his words affect me, “Oh daddy,” I mock, rolling my eyes, “Need you so bad.”

He grabs me by the ankles, flipping me onto my stomach and sends an echoing smack to my ass, the stinging sensation that radiates afterwards making my toes curl. He flips me back onto my back, his dangerously dark eyes meeting mine as he spreads my legs apart once again, holding my thighs down against the mattress.

“Want to try that again, princess?”

“Fuck,” I gasp, the edge to his voice making the whispered swear fall from my mouth involuntarily, “Um, yes.”

“Yes what?” He growls, leaning down to hold my jaw in his hand, his eyes drilling into mine waiting for a response.

“Yes daddy.”

“Now you’re getting it, good girl,” He grins, his hand that was gripping my jaw moving to tuck a piece of hair behind my ear, “Now open up,” I oblige, slowly opening my mouth and he pushes his middle and ring finger past my lips. It catches me a bit off guard, but he only nods his head, “Get them nice and wet for me love, don’t want to hurt you.”

He pulls them from my mouth, a small string of saliva connecting them to my lips. He chuckles a bit, clearly getting a kick out of how worked up I am for him before finally pushing my panties to the side and pressing his fingers into me. I instantly turn my head to the side, muffling the moan that escapes my mouth into my pillow. As soon as he realizes what I’m doing he grabs me by the hair, holding my head straight.

“None of that,” He says sternly, “Wanna hear your pretty sounds, babygirl.”

I’m dangerously close to the edge just from the words pouring from his mouth in that accented tone that makes my entire body shiver. That condescending smirk finds its way back to his lips and I know that he can tell I’m close, just teetering on the edge already.

“Needy little thing, are we?” He teases, “Already gonna cum and daddy’s barely touched you yet.”

His words are almost just enough to push me over the edge, but I hold off as much as I can, straining away from his touch as much as I can with my hands bound above my head and his weight on top of me. I feel the particular twist in my stomach, that burning sensation in the very pit of my abdomen just as my eyes squeeze shut and my vision goes white. His fingers work me through it, his mouth finally hovering over where I need him most, sucking my sensitive bud into his mouth and making me shake.

I feel his fingers withdraw from me and suddenly he’s pushing them past my lips once again, but this time I taste myself on them, swirling my tongue around each one to suck them clean. I meet his eyes as he pulls them from my mouth and my hips involuntarily buck up to meet the bulge prominent in his pants.

“Still needy, are we?” He chuckles.

“Please shut up and take your pants off already.” I beg, my hips bucking up to meet him again.

“You see I would but,” He starts, sitting back on his heels, “It seems I don’t have a condom, would you happen to have one?”

“Would I, no, you have got to be fucking kidding me,” I stutter breathlessly, my blood starting to boil in disbelief, “What kind of guy doesn’t keep a pack of rubbers around you idiot?”

“Careful,” He warns, his voice dropping into that deep calculated tone that makes me shiver, “And perhaps a guy that just moved in this week and hasn’t necessarily had buying rubbers on the mind,” He says, “That is until he met a spunky purple haired girl in the supermarket.”

His words make my stomach do a few somersaults, but I don’t let it extinguish the pissed off fire burning in my stomach knowing that I won’t be getting the relief I desperately need right now.

“You’re serious?” I ask, “You don’t have any?”

“Serious, darling,” He chuckles, “But instead of moping about it, you’re going to take what I give you and say thank you daddy when I’m done, understand?”

I nod my head vigorously, despite wanting to do the exact opposite. What kind of hold does that goddamn accent have on me?

“Good,” He smiles, clearly pleased with my response, “And maybe if you’re a good girl next time daddy will remember to hit the store.”

“Next time?” I ask, not filtering the shock from my voice.

He laughs a bit, reaching up to finally untie my hands, “Yes, next time, did you want this to just be a one-time thing, princess?”

I can’t form the words I want to say as I sit up a bit, rubbing my wrists only slightly from the rough fabric of the lace wrapped around them, “I um, I don’t-”

“That’s what I thought,” He smirks, standing from the bed and holding out a hand to me, “Now come on, didn’t you get pizza?”

I smile, taking his hand and starting to stand to my feet, my legs a bit wobbly and I’m thankful for the stability of his arm to lean on.

“Do you have anything to uh,” I start, cringing when I feel the wetness in between my thighs, “Clean up with?”

“Nope,” He says cheerfully, “You keep that pretty mess I made between those thighs, babygirl.”

My knees nearly buckle, and I’m cursing him for his lack of condoms and the ache between my legs as I pull my pants back on, following him to the door to the hall. He stops abruptly just inside the doorway, turning back to meet my eyes.

“What’s my name?” He asks cheekily.

“Harry,” I say confidently, “Why? Are you worried I forgot already?”

He grabs my ass in his hand tightly, squeezing the skin, his voice calculated, “I said, what’s my name?”

I gulp, leaning into his grip on me a bit more as my knees wobble, “Daddy.”

He releases his grip on my ass, giving it a quick smack, “’Atta girl, let’s get some pizza in you so you’re ready for round two,” He grins, throwing his arm around my shoulder and tucking me into his side as we walk down the hall to my room instead, “Maybe after we can hit the store, I seemed to have forgotten to pick something up last time I went.”

#harry styles #harry #harry styles smut #one direction #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles blurb #harry styles writing #one direction smut #harry smut #harry styles oneshot #daddy!harry #dom!harry #sub!y/n

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amazingphanisnotonfire-imagines · 3 years

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Maeve//i don't belong, and my beloved, neither do you

Request: Could you please do something else with Maeve? Perhaps something where reader works with Maeve on an English project and she's surprised that they have so much in common. She realizes she has feelings for her somehow after that? Sorry that's sort of rubbish, have a swell day/night.

hey! what’s up everybody! i hope everyone is well, and i hope you like this!! title is from ‘the lakes’ by taylor swift!

- English projects are never fun

- I mean, who finds constant stress and a deadline that’s always far too close fun?

- Nobody

- That’s who

- Well apart from Mrs Jones

- Your year 9 English teacher who made every minute of her classes a living hell

- And who mysteriously went missing half way through the year after having a screaming match with a fellow English teacher

- When she was supposed to be teaching you Romeo & Juliet.

- One day she was accusing Miss Newman of being a terrible teacher and purposefully bumping up students grades so she looked better

- And the next day both her and Miss Newman were gone

- And you only got a replacement teacher when you moved into year 10

- Right now though

- Its seems Miss Sands is going through some stuff

- Because not only did she give you an assignment on Friday with a deadline of Monday

- She also chose your partners instead of letting you choose your own

- Which is why you’re stood outside of Maeve’s in the pouring rain

- On a frankly miserable Saturday morning

- It seems the weather knew exactly what sort of weekend you were facing

- And decided to make it even worse.

- By the third knock

- You’re about to give up

- The curtains are still drawn

- And you’ve seen more movement in a graveyard

- Plus

- You kind of already assumed you would be doing the project alone

- Maeve Wiley was known for being very...

- ...independant

- And group projects are no different

- You actually think she may be more independent during group projects

- So as soon as Miss Sands paired you together

- You knew

- You were 99% sure that

- You’d do your thing

- She’d do hers

- And then five minutes before the presentation

- You would figure out a way to connect the two.

- Anywayyyy

- While daydreaming about a time when you won’t have any assignments

- And making awkward, accidental eye contact with Maeve’s neighbours

- The door in front of you opens

- Simultaneously giving you a fright and almost knocking you out

- She yawns and scratches the top of her head

- ‘what are you doing here?’

- She sounds both tired and annoyed and you blink at her a few times before answering

- ‘er - i - the project. for english.’

- It takes her a few seconds to process what you’ve said

- But when she does

- She looks even more miserable than she did five seconds ago

- And you brace yourself for a long weekend

- She sighs and rolls her eyes

- Before slowly opening the door properly and letting you in

- You feel slightly nervous as you walk in

- But you really have no idea why

- It’s not like she’s a complete stranger

- But then again

- She’s not exactly a friend

- ‘don’t worry, i’ve hidden the drugs. i don’t really like to share anyway.’

- ‘what?’ you ask confused and she rolls her eyes again

- She huffs and crosses her arms before nodding to the slightly messy living room

- ‘i get it. we’re a bunch of benefit fraud chavs that do nothing but drink and smoke all day.’

- ‘that’s not what i was thinkin-’

- ‘sure it wasn’t.’ she rolls her eyes and you stare down at the floor. ‘i need to get changed so make yourself at home I suppose.’

- She walks into what you assume is her bedroom and slams the door behind her

- Leaving you to stand awkwardly in the middle of the living room

- It’s small and slightly cramped

- And most people would say that all the stuff makes it look busy

- But to you

- It’s wonderful

- It’s filled with stories and memories

- Some self explanatory

- Some slightly more bizarre

- Like the wonky blue and yellow clay swan living on the coffee table

- You really want to know the story behind it

- But decide it might be a little early in your partnership to start asking about her attachment to a half swan, half moth looking ornament

- So instead you pick up a pile of books on the dining table and move them onto the floor

- You can hear Maeve opening and closing drawers while humming a familiar tune

- And you feel yourself relax slightly as you place your laptop and books where the books were previously sat

- Even if it does feel like you’re using all of your braincells to try and figure out where you’ve heard it before

- ‘wow, do you actually trust me around that?’

- ‘what?’ you stop humming and look up at her

- She looks between you and the laptop, staring at you expectantly

- ‘oh no. i mean of course i do.’ you blush and she shakes her head before sitting opposite you

- ‘so what do we know about women in fiction?’

- ‘historically they are written as either a femme fatalle type or some sort of innocent angelic being.’

- ‘they still are’

- ‘true’ you agree and flick through your textbook

- ‘why don’t we write about that then?’

- ‘what? how we’re still depressingly far back in the equality movement, despite being told otherwise?’

- She stares at you for a few seconds

- A mixture of shock and surprise

- Before nodding

- And smiling

- An actual genuine smile

- You didn’t even know she could do that

- Well you did

- Of course you did

- But you just haven’t seen it a lot

- Usually when you see Maeve

- She’s either mad, grumpy or very, very, very angry

- But her smiling

- Puts a smile on your face

- And this was definitely not where you thought this was going

- ‘yeah...that’

- ‘okay.’ you shrug. ‘you can do classic literature because i know you prefer them and i’ll cover modern works.’

- ‘how do you know i prefer classics?’

- ‘the pile of books’ you nod towards the floor and she follows your gaze, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear. ‘they’re all ripped and folded. you either love them or really, really hate them’

- ‘okay’ she eyes you suspiciously as you focus on your laptop

- And you can feel your cheeks heat up under her gaze

- However as quickly as they were there

- They disappear

- And the two of you fall into a surprisingly comfortable silence.

- After about half an hour

- Maeve stops what she’s doing to stretch

- ‘is it okay if i play some music?’

- ‘sure, it’s your place. do what you want...as long as its not awful’

- ‘and what constitutes as awful?’ she asks, a smirk playing on her lips

- ‘well’

- And with that one question

- Your entire day disappears in front of you

- Laptops and books are closed and long forgotten

- And instead you talk about music and movies

- Books and plays

- Characters that you love and hate

- And the fact that her favourite character is the one you hate the most

- She makes you lunch while you debate between movies and books and which adaptations are good

- And which ones should never have been made

- And you clean up and apologise profusely after a stray cushion (possibly thrown by you) ends up knocking the pan over

- Surprisingly

- She finds it quite funny

- And you let out a relieved sigh

- Soon the sun goes down on another day

- And you’ve barely written two paragraphs done between you

- ‘do you want to stay?’ she asks while your putting your jacket on

- If she’d asked you that this morning

- You would have thought she had lost it

- But now it feels almost inevitable

- And you feel genuinely lucky to be asked

- Not many people get to know Maeve

- The real her

- And that last person she told all of this to broke her heart

- Very publicly

- And she told herself she would never let herself be that vulnerable with someone ever again

- But this just feels right

- For some reason you feel right

- She feels safe with you

- And part of her hates herself for it

- But then again

- She hates herself for not getting to know you sooner

- She feels far too attached to you

- And it’s barely been twelve hours

- You of course agree to stay

- Shocking yourself and her

- And while she sorts to sofa out

- You excuse yourself to the bathroom

- Under the pretences of telling your parents where you are

- It takes two seconds to text them

- And the other 28 to ask yourself

- What the fuck are you doing?

- Why are you agreeing to this?

- Why do you feel like this?

- What are you feeling?

- Who knows?

- Not you

- Great

- Now you’ve been in the bathroom for a suspicious amount of time

- Just get it together, Y/n

- It’s just a study sleepover

- Maeve gives you a questioning look as you leave

- ‘you know how mums are. always worrying about where you are and what you’re doing’

- ‘i wouldn’t actually’ she shrugs and your eyes widen

- ‘oh shit, sorry. i’m so sorry. god, i’m an idiot.’

- ‘it’s fine’ she forces a laugh and you wince. ‘i got you an extra duvet and little women is ready to watch so i can show you that the book is better’

- ‘that’s not what i said and you know it’

- ‘i’m sorry. i can’t hear you over the sound of me being 100% right and you being 100% wrong.’

- ‘you may be good at english, but you suck at maths’

- The next day you wake up to the sun shining through the curtains

- And a clump of Maeve’s hair in your mouth

- You splutter and cough and wake her up quickly

- And she jumps away from you and smacks her head of the table

- The two of you ended up moving the blankets to the floor while watching Pride and Prejudice

- And neither of you bothered to move back

- Maeve yawns and scratches her head

- Exposing a small part of her stomach and you feel yourself become a little breathless

- ‘are you okay?’

- ‘ye-yeah’ you nod and she eyes you suspiciously

- ‘whatever’ she shrugs and starts making breakfast

- You watch as she pours to bowls of cereal

- Giving you the last of the milk

- And for a second you’re a little worried as to how she knew you liked it

- But then you remember that she also likes it and you had a whole discussion about the best and worst types of cereal at 2am

- And half way through breakfast

- You remember the original reason you’re here

- And both of you curse loudly

- Before rushing to finish eating

-You get half way through your project

- When Maeve asks if you want to go out for a bit

- And well

- She doesn’t need to ask you twice

- And by the time you come back

- The feeling you had last night returns

- And has settled in your stomach

- For the foreseeable future it seems

- It makes you feel both light and heavy at the same time

- And when you look at her

- You feel dizzy

- So you rush to finish the project

- So you can go home and pretend nothing has changed

- And yeah

- With the need to leave

- You get the rest of the assignment done fairly quickly

- But you end up leaving feeling more confused about Maeve as you did when you started this

- Maybe Miss Sands was right about a weekend project

- Any longer and you would have gone insane trying to figure out whatever the hell this is

- You just have to get through tomorrow and then you’ll be okay

- Everything will go back to normal

- You and Maeve can go back to being neutral to each other

- And you won’t have to deal with all of these confusing feelings that have decided to make an appearance for some reason

- Wellll

- Turns out Miss Sands was wrong

- A weekend is not enough time

- And the first few presentations are awful

- To put it nicely

- So you spend the next week in a permanent confused state

- Confused as to why you start looking for Maeve whenever you enter a room

- Confused as to why your heart skips a beat whenever you hear her laugh

- Confused as to why you never want her stop talking in class

- Even if the bell has rung and it’s lunch

- Confused to why you keep looking for excuses to go over to see her

- Despite your assignment being long done

- And even more confused as to why you feel anxious when you’re waiting for her to answer the door

- The next Monday rolls around both painfully slowly and far too quickly

- And while you wait for Ola and Danny to finish their presentation

- Your hands shake with anxiety while your grip your papers

- Maeve reaches over the table and gives them a reassuring squeeze

- But it just makes them shake more and she slowly pulls back

- Your turn can’t come quick enough

- But then it’s over far too quickly

- And you slump back down in your seat disappointed

- Despite Miss Sands’ praise

- Because it’s over

- You no longer have an excuse to hang out with her

- You never talked before

- So why do you care about after

- But there’s so much about her that you want to know

- Like the weird swan/moth hybrid

- And the ugly plate that sits on top of the bookshelf

- You want to be part of these stories

- You want to be able to point to these things and say

- ‘yeah, i know exactly why that is special to you’

- You want to be the reason to add to this random collection of stuff

- You want her to smile when she looks at them because they’ll remind her of you

- You want her to smile when she looks at you

- ‘y/n? are you okay?’ she asks making you jump

- The classroom is now empty and you didn’t even notice the bell go

- ‘ye-yeah’ you nod and grab your bag

- ‘are you sure?’ she grabs your arm forcing you turn around

- ‘whats the weird swan thing on your coffee table?’ you ask and she furrows her eyebrows at you. ‘it’s just i saw it when i first came over and i really want to know the story behind it’

- ‘oh. aimee went through a pottery phase last year and that was the only thing she made that didn’t have a hole in it.’

- ‘and the plate?’

- ‘birthday present from my neighbours’

- ‘they got you a plate?’

- ‘yeah, they don’t have any kids’

- ‘clearly’

- Silence fills the room and you stare at the peeling posters behind her head

- You can feel Maeve move closer to you and your breath hitches when she stops a few centimetres in front of you

- She grabs your hand and squeezes it again

- And your heartbeat increases

- ‘y/n?’

- ‘yeah?’

- ‘i’m really, really confused right now. like more confused that i have ever been in my life. but what i do know, is that if i watch you walk out of that door without saying anything first, then i’d regret it for the rest of my life. i’ve only ever felt like this about boys before, but now i feel this and more about you and i have no idea where it’s come from or what i need to do, but i do know i need to tell you. because otherwise, it wouldn’t be fair for either of us’ she whispers and you stare at her wide eyed

- ‘can i kiss you?’ she asks and you nod your head quickly

- Slowly she leans in

- Her eye flutter closed and you follow

- Your lips brush over hers

- Her hands wrap around you waist to pull you close

- And then your lips connect

- And you feel everything change

- She kisses you slowly

- And when you pull away you both feel breathless

- Her cheeks are bright red

- And there’s a shy smile playing on her lips as she looks at you bashfully

- And all of a sudden you feel really grateful for Miss Sands and her personal issues

- Although you really hope they are resolved now

- For your sake as well as hers

support my writing! if you want!

#sex education #sex education imagine #maeve wiley #maeve wiley imagine #maeve wiley x reader

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gossip-girl-of-middleearth · 3 years

Text

The Wrong Kind of Stardust (Legolas x Reader)

Synopsis: After taking Legolas, your partner, to visit your “Stardust” addict brother, things get a little chaotic.

A/N: I’ve been thinking about Legolas a lot lately, and one thought that’s recently crossed my mind is “what if Legolas got high on crack?” and my brain ran with the rest. Sometimes you just gotta write about an elf on cocaine.

Warnings: drug abuse, addiction, peer pressure, mentions of sex, a very crazy and over-the-top elf high on Stardust.

Dismounting your respective horses, both you and Legolas dropped to the pine needles below. You had finally arrived at your brother’s secluded cottage in the forest, away from the hustle and bustle of the cities.

“I can’t believe he actually managed to afford a place to live,” you scoffed, thinking of your brother.

He had suffered many years with addiction to “Stardust”—a white powder when once inhaled, made your body react faster and more impulsively than usual.

“Try to be optimistic,” Legolas soothed. He wrapped one arm around your shoulder and kissed your head. “Keep in mind how much you want your older brother at our wedding, and that’ll put things into perspective.”

“Yeah,” you sighed, supposing he was right. “This wouldn’t be the first time Franny lied about ‘being better’, though.”

“No,” Legolas agreed, walking you both forward towards the cottage, arm around your back. “But this is the first time he’s said so upon us getting married in a month.”

The grin he gave you was one brimming in lovesickness, as he studied your eyes.

You arched a brow up at him over his words, knowing exactly how elvish marriages were undertaken, and how you technically already were husband and wife.

Catching your expression, he cleared his throat sheepishly, and responded with, “Well…married formally, at least.”

You rolled your eyes away from him, but couldn’t fight the smile on your face. However, it soon ran away, as you both arrived at the closed front door.

You inhaled tightly, and spoke aloud. “Here we are, I suppose.”

Hearing the premature disappointment in your voice, Legolas looked down his side at you. Grabbing hold of both of your hands, he gazed into your eyes and reassured you.

“Hey,” he lulled, earning your full attention. “It’s all going to be fine, all right? You needn’t worry about your family embarrassing you in front of me, like you mentioned on the road. We’ve talked about this whole ‘prince and commoner’ thing at length. I wouldn’t have…married you if I didn’t know what I was getting myself into.”

Your heart melted and your knees turned to mush, as you smiled up at him—bursting with love.

He returned the look and brought one hand up to cup your cheek. Running a thumb along your cheekbone, he began tilting your head upwards.

Still feeling your stomach flutter after all these years, you eyed him in excitement, before steadily closing your lids.

Right before his lips could brush against yours, however, the door to your brother’s cottage slammed opened.

Jolting away from one another, you both looked at Francis in shock. He looked every bit like you, but taller.

A broad grin was on Francis’ face, as he eyed his sister up.

“Y/n!” he exclaimed, rushing forwards to tackle you into a hug. “I’m so glad you made it! Oh! I haven’t seen you in years! And to think that you’re now getting married! Speaking of which—”

He pulled back from squeezing you blue, to size up Legolas instead. He strutted forwards with a low, manly laugh, and gripped a suddenly rigid and wide-eyed Legolas tight on the shoulders.

“My future brother-in-law!” he exclaimed, quickly pulling the protesting elf into a bear hug. “An elf, AND a prince! I can’t believe how well my sister scored!”

Laughing nervously, Legolas awkwardly wrapped his arms around Francis, patting him on the back. The only person he’d ever truly been skin-to-skin intimate with was you. Everyone else got a closed fist to the chest, or a shoulder clasp.

“It’s wonderful to finally meet you, Francis,” Legolas said, politely.

“Francis?” he exclaimed, pulling back and holding Legolas straight by the shoulders. “Who are you, my mother? Don’t be so formal, your highness! You can just call me ‘Franny’, like Y/n here does!”

He turned to you with a broad grin, and you returned it, though, in a lipped manner. Legolas offered a tight and confused grin back, unsure at the best of times on how to interact with humans. Francis was certainly the most bizarre one he’d met yet.

He almost regretted encouraging you to visit him, but the thought of your nearing wedding day ahead drove him forward, as well as one simple, repetitive thought.

Do it for Y/n.

“Well, don’t be strangers now!” Francis pressed on, ushering you both inside. “Can I get you anything to drink? Water? Tea? Moonshine?”

“Tea is fine, Franny,” you said in an almost scolding tone, knowing he shouldn’t drink at all.

As you stepped inside of the home, you inspected every nook and cranny with your eyes—expecting bags of Stardust to be lying around.

However, to your surprise, there were none.

“Tea coming right up!” Franny declared, whisking away to the kitchen. “Please! Make yourselves at home down at the table!”

Legolas thanked him with a smile, and sat you down in a gentlemanly manner, before taking his seat next to you.

Looking around the room, and pleasantly surprised with your brother, you voiced so aloud.

“Wow, Franny, this place actually looks amazing! I’m quite proud of you—it seems as though you’ve really cleaned up your act this time, as opposed to the last occasion.”

“I’m completely clean, sister!” his voice came from the kitchen. You could also hear the whistling of a kettle and the rattling of drawers.

You smiled up at Legolas with excitement in your eyes, as you truly believed your brother. He returned your smile, and offered a brighter one as you spoke.

“I think he’s really done it…should we invite him now?”

“Absolutely,” he encouraged. “Do you want to go get the invitation out of the saddle-bags?”

Nodding resolutely, you stood to your feet. You placed a peck against his lips, before leaving out the door again.

“Make friends with him,” you said, before leaving with a happy skip in your step.

He waved you goodbye, before Francis’ voice caught his attention.

“Y/n! Hey, do you think—oh, where’d she go?”

Legolas looked over his shoulder to find Francis’ head sticking out of the entranceway into the kitchen, as he looked left and right for his sister.

“She’s just stepped outside for a moment,” Legolas answered, politely.

“Oh, thank fuck,” Francis dropped his act, and his expression.

The change in demeanour chased the smile away from Legolas’ face, as he parted his lips in shock up at the man.

“I beg your pardon?” Legolas asked, already on the “what did you just say about my wife?” boat.

“She can be a real nagger sometimes,” Francis explained. He dropped to his knees and pulled a wooden plank out from the floorboards. Underneath, a brown bag of white powder lay.

He fetched it quickly, and came to sit on the couch next to Legolas, but a few feet away. Francis then began pouring a handful out, where he next went onto inhaling some.

“What are you doing?!” Legolas nearly squealed, jumping to his feet, as if a snake was just placed next to him.

“Elevating myself. What’s it look like, elf?” Francis sassed, quirking a brow up at Legolas.

“Are you insane?” the angry side of Legolas emerged. “Y/n just left to retrieve your wedding invitation, and you’re betraying her trust?”

“Relax, would you?” Francis complained, inhaling more of the dust from his hand. “What she doesn’t know won’t kill her.”

“Uh, I’m standing right here,” Legolas pointed out, gesturing to his body.

Looking his brother-in-law up and down, Francis replied, using a very monotonous voice. “Uh, yeah, I can see that. You’re a real stud of a stallion, so what?”

“No, that’s not what I—” Legolas went to defend himself. However, he bit his tongue and pressed both hands together in a praying motion. He brought said hands up to his face, and rested his forehead against them.

Closing his eyes, Legolas took a deep breath of his own.

“Wow, you look really stressed there, my friend,” Franny pointed out, holding the bag up next. “Would you like to try some?”

Jolted back into his senses, Legolas gaped down at the man for a minute in shock, before anger gave way again. “NO, FRANCIS! I WOULD NOT LIKE SOME OF YOUR DRUGS! Y/n will be devastated when she finds out you’re using again! And I encouraged her to give you another chance—I see why she was so against it now.”

The frown and glare of Legolas only deepened, as Franny rose to his feet, squaring up with the slightly taller elf.

“Hey, pal, you have no idea what I’m all about,” he growled, nodding his head in gesture of the elf. “And besides, who are you to judge? You’ve never even tried Stardust before!”

“Oh,” Legolas scoffed, rolling his eyes, “excuse me for having never done drugs before, what a horribly ignorant elf I am.”

“Don’t knock it until you’ve tried it,” Francis urged, holding up a handful to Legolas’ nose. “C’mon, just a little sniff! You’ll feel a lot calmer soon, I promise!”

“No!” Legolas rejected, swatting his hands. “Get that stuff away from me, Francis!”

“C’mon!” Francis drew out, trying to put it underneath Legolas’ dodging nose. “Just a little bit of Stardust won’t hurt you!”

“No, but it’ll hurt Y/n!” he protested, trying to move away from the adamant man.

“Just a little!” he urged again, chasing Legolas, as the elf was backed into a corner.

“No!”

“Yes!”

“NO!”

“YES!”

“I SAID NO!”

“Okay, you know what?” Francis rolled his eyes, now fully having the elf cornered. “Here!”

With one big puff of air, the entire handful of Stardust blew into Legolas’ face, entering his system almost immediately.

Legolas rapidly blinked his eyes open and shut, as he tried to get rid of the dust. The white powder danced between the man and elf in an equal amount, getting both high very quickly.

As the dust fluttered down to the floor, looking as though a bag of flour had just exploded, Legolas stared at his brother-in-law in shock.

“You…” he attempted to say, before he felt the pumping of his heart increase.

“Oh, yes, my friend,” Francis grinned, nodding his head. “You’re in for a good time…”

Outside, you had finally found the wedding invitation in your saddle-bag, now heading back on over towards the cottage.

You barely had time to announce your presence again, for the first thing you saw upon re-entering was your brother and husband kneeled on the floor, speaking fast and brooming up…flour?

“I feel like everything’s gonna work out, you know? Because I’m like clockwork!” your brother said, all in one go, to Legolas, as they quickly broomed everything up. “Look how fast I’m cleaning this mess up! Clockwork! I’m moving super-fast! Look at me go!”

Legolas nodded vehemently, and raised one finger to speak over the top of your brother, as they both continued vigorously cleaning the floor.

“Y-You know what’s funny? Can I speak? You know what’s funny?” he began, quick as a whip. “I feel like I should be panicking right now, and I am a little bit, but in a very, very good way—like a good kind of panic, because I feel like I want to die right now, but I also feel very, very good—”

“Hey!” you called, staring at them in confusion. “What on earth are you guys doing?”

“Y/n!” Legolas gasped, shooting to his feet.

Jumping over the couch in a way that made your eyes go wide, Legolas was instantly stood before you.

“I feel amazing!” he revealed, grabbing a chunk of blonde hair either side of his head, and pulling outwards. “LOOK HOW LONG MY HAIR IS! It’s growing out of my head right now—can you believe that? Isn’t that sort of disgusting? Ew, I’ve just made myself feel uncomfortable in my own body—”

Legolas gasped brightly, and met your eyes again. This was where you saw how dilated they were.

“CAN I BORROW YOUR BODY INSTEAD?” he asked, suddenly grabbing your waist. “THAT’S A BRILLIANT IDEA! And I know how to go inside, too, so it’ll all feel much better soon—”

“Are you high on…Stardust?!” you exclaimed, removing his hands from your waist.

Legolas blinked down at you rapidly for a few seconds, before slowly answering.

“No…?”

“I can’t believe it,” you seethed. Pushing past Legolas, you glared down at your laughing brother. “You’re absolutely deplorable, Francis! Don’t even THINK about showing up to the wedding!”

You tore up his invitation, and threw it down onto the ground below. You next began shoving a reluctant Legolas out of the house.

Fortunately, once he felt the pine needles on his feet (he was barefoot, for some reason), he gasped loudly and took off running.

“LOOK HOW GREEN IT IS!” he exclaimed. “HAVE YOU EVER NOTICED HOW GREEN IT IS? THE COLOURS ARE BURSTING RIGHT NOW ALL AROUND ME. I feel as though it’s sort of designed in my honour, you know? As in, nature really understands—SQUIRREL—what my name means.”

You rubbed your temples with a grinding of your teeth, as you watched your husband sprint off to climb a tree, where he beckoned you to join.

Growling, you spoke lowly under your breath.

“This is going to be a long ride home…”

Hearing a strangled yelp, you noticed that Legolas had already fallen out of the tree. You sighed, and began walking over—already knowing your words to be true.

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fuyuesu · 3 years

Text

why i (unfortunately) believe the "mikoto has DID" theory

this is going to be a kinda quick, kinda messy writeup on why i personally think that the DID theory for mikoto is the direction that the writers are going for (as much as i don't want it to be) and why that is, because honestly i'm not sure if any other theory seems viable right now to me.

i want to preface this by saying that i think this writing choice is inherently ableist. portraying a character who seems to have DID as having a ~*spooky alter*~ that murders people with no clear motive as of now? not good. not great. i wish this Wasn't the case, but i feel like in avoiding this theory entirely, it's kind of a refusal to acknowledge the mistakes of the milgram writers. i think it's incredibly important to consume milgram critically instead of ignoring the possibility that it just might have ableist writing, because how they've been handling mikoto is... Yeah.

so, while the mv is already a Lot to unpack, i'm going to put all that and the obvious metaphors basically hitting you on the head with a bat within it aside to look at the crucial piece in this dilemma - mikoto's voice drama, john doe.

in it, there's a point where mikoto snaps under stress, "switches", and becomes incredibly aggressive. his voice also changes drastically to the point where it doesn't even sound like the same character. he attempts to kill es, kotoko comes in, they fight, and he gets knocked out. kotoko outright says "mikoto seems to have DID" after the fact, which is so on the nose that it's actually laughable.

now, let's unpack this. i'm going to make my point for why i think that this is a confirmation of the theory rather than a red herring by answering the three most common types of rebuttals i've seen to this theory, because i think that refuting those is the best way i can get my point across.

"hold on, DID doesn't work like it would in mikoto's case at all! it's unrealistic, so it can't be DID!"

yes, you're right! in real life, DID is an INCREDIBLY complex disorder, and mikoto's portrayal in-universe obviously is not accurate. if milgram were real, i would agree. however, milgram is a work of fiction, a murder mystery at that, that's written by people who may not have put in the work to portray the disorder faithfully. you can't make the judgement that "it's unrealistic, so it can't be true" when mikoto isn't real. he's a product of real people making a bunch of writing choices. the inaccuracies are likely because the writers made mistakes, or they chose to overlook those factors for the sake of a more "interesting" story. i also don't think the head writer being a psychologist makes them unable to make writing choices like this.

"mikoto could just be lying and tricking people into thinking he has DID! he's manipulating everyone! his mv shows the crime, so he remembers!"

the songs are extracted from their subconscious, meaning while mikoto may not consciously remember the crime, his subconscious still retains it (not sure if this would make sense at all in real life, but again, do you think the writers particularly care about that?). plus, it's an established fact that prisoners cannot lie in their songs. but, okay, let's say this is the case for a second. let's pretend for a moment that mikoto is a ruthless murderer who kills for the thrill of it, who is manipulating everyone, who tried to kill es for calling him out on it.

what reason would ANYONE have to vote him innocent?

no, really. if mikoto is lying to everyone, what reason is there to vote him as anything but guilty? there's no moral dilemma anymore! it's just "hey, this guy killed people for no reason and also tried to kill es. Do You Think He's Innocent Or Guilty? :)" of course he's not innocent! the lack of moral dilemma would make voting a no-brainer, which is why i think there's no possible way that he's manipulating everyone. there has to be room for innocence.

(and also it's just a boring writing choice honestly. mikoto's whole deal is that he doesn't remember his crime! that's his Thing! if that's a lie, then the initial intrigue of his character is just gone!)

"so if mikoto has DID, why be so obvious about it? they're just trying to throw us for a loop!"

honestly, how obvious they're being about it is straight-up bizarre to the point where it's like the only thing throwing me off. however, i think if this isn't just a massive elaborate red herring for some reason, then it's because this is a setup for the next trials. it's possible that rather than the mystery being "does he really have DID? is he faking it?", the mystery is meant to revolve around mikoto, his alter, the motives for the crime, and just in general the "why"s of it. at least, i hope there's a motive, bc if the ~*spooky evil murder alter*~ is killing for no reason other than like just the thrill of it i'm going to beat the milgram writers over the head with a rock. anyway, i'm guessing that what they're trying to go for is establishing this fact about mikoto early on so they can focus on it and expand on it in later trials.

let me reiterate - this is not because i want this theory to be true. i was so on board with the homicidal sleepwalker theory before MeMe. i hoped that DID wouldn't even come into the equation. however, looking at this objectively, i can't deny that this seems to be the direction that the milgram writers are taking mikoto, and to ignore that entirely feels like avoiding confronting the possibility that milgram probably has ableist writing.

do not take this as me defending the writing choice. do not take this as me wanting the theory to be true. but as a quick explanation as to why i believe it to be the truth, regardless of what i personally want.

thank you for reading my ramblings.

#milgram #milgram theory #mikoto kayano #mikoto kayano theory #despots rambles #god. i hate that this is the writing choice they seem to be making #but by god am i not just going to ignore it when they're plainly spelling it out #i like to consider the meta viewpoint when making theories #this is a messy post ngl but i just kinda had to get my thoughts out #like its not that i want it to be true #its just that i have no faith in the writers

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pumpkinpaix · 4 years

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Hi! Loving your meta on suibian :)) Just wondering what were your frustrations with cql, especially considered you've watched this in multiple mediums? (I've only watched cql)

Hi anon! thank you so much!

Oh boy, you’ve unlocked a boatload of hidden dialogue, are you ready?? :D (buckle up it’s oof. Extremely Long)

@hunxi-guilai please consider this my official pitch for why I think the novel is worth reading, if only so you can enjoy the audio drama more fully. ;)

a few things before I get into it:

I don’t want to make this a 100% negative post because I really do love CQL so much! So I’m going to make it two parts: the changes that frustrated me the most and the changes I loved the most re: CQL vs novel. (again, don’t really know anything about donghua or manhua sorry!!) Sound good? :D

this will contain spoilers for the entirety of CQL and the novel. just like. All of it.

talking about the value of changes in CQL is difficult because I personally don’t know what changes were made for creative reasons and what changes were made for censorship reasons. I don’t think it’s entirely fair to evaluate the narrative worth of certain changes when I don’t know what their limitations were. It’s not just a matter of “gay content was censored”; China also has certain censorship restrictions on the portrayal of the undead, among other things. I, unfortunately, am not familiar enough with the ins and outs of Chinese censorship to be able to tell anyone with certainty what was and wasn’t changed for what reason. So I guess just, take whatever my opinions are with a grain of salt! I will largely avoid addressing issues related to how explicitly romantic wangxian is, for obvious reasons.

OKAY. In order to impose some kind of control on how much time I spend on this, I’m going to limit myself to four explicated points in each category, best/worst. Please remember that I change my opinions constantly, so these are just like. the top contenders at this specific point in my life. Starting with the worst so we can end on a positive note!

Henceforth, the novel is MDZS, CQL is CQL.

CQL’s worst crimes, according to cyan:

1. Polarizing Wei Wuxian and Jin Guangyao on the moral spectrum

I’ve heard rumors that this was a censorship issue, but I have never been able to confirm or deny it, so. Again, grain of salt.

The way that CQL reframed Wei Wuxian and Jin Guangyao’s character arcs drives me up the wall because I think it does a huge disservice to both of them and the overarching themes of the story. Jin Guangyao is shown to be responsible for pretty much all the tragedy post-Sunshot, which absolves Wei Wuxian of all possible wrongdoing and flattens Jin Guangyao into a much less interesting villain.

What I find so interesting about MDZS is how much it emphasizes the role of external forces and situations in determining a person’s fate: that being “good” or “righteous” at heart is simply not enough. You can do everything with all the best intentions and still do harm, still fail, still lose everything. Even “right” choices can have terrible consequences. Everyone starts out innocent. “In this world, everyone starts without grievances, but there is always someone who takes the first blow.”

It matters that Wei Wuxian is the one who loses control and kills Jin Zixuan, that his choices (no matter how impossible and terrible the situation) had consequences because the whole point is that even good people can be forced into corners where they do terrible things. Being good isn’t enough. You can do everything right, make every impossible choice, and fail. You can do the right thing and be punished for it. Maybe you did the right thing, but others suffer for your actions. Is that still the right thing? Is it your fault? Is it? By absolving Wei Wuxian of any conceivable blame, it really changes the narrative conclusion. In MDZS, even the best people can do incomprehensible harm when backed into corners, and the audience is asked to evaluate those actions with nuance. Is a criminal fully culpable for the harm they do when their external circumstances forced them into situations where they felt like they had no good choices left?

Personally, I feel like the novel asks you to forgive Wei Wuxian his wrongs, and, in paralleling him with Jin Guangyao, shows how easily they could have been one another. Both of them are extraordinarily talented sons of commoners; the difference lies in what opportunities they were given as they were growing up and how they choose to react to grievances. Wei Wuxian is adopted early on into the head family of a prominent sect and treated (more or less—not going to get into it) like a son. Jin Guangyao begs, borrows, steals, kills for every scrap of prestige and honor he gets and understands that his position in life is, at all points, extraordinarily unstable. Wei Wuxian doesn’t take his grievances to heart, but Jin Guangyao does.

To be clear, I don’t think the novel places a moral value on holding grudges, if that makes sense. I think MDZS only indicates that acts of vengeance always lead to more bloodshed—that the only escape is to lay down your arms, no matter how bitter the taste. Wei Wuxian was horribly wronged in many ways, and I don’t think I would fault him for wanting revenge or holding onto his anger—but I do think it’s clear that if he did, it would destroy him. It destroys Jin Guangyao, after all.

(It also destroys Xue Yang, and I think the parallel actually also extends to him. Yi City, to me, is a very interesting microcosm of a lot of broader themes in MDZS, and I have a lot of Thoughts on Xue Yang and equivalent justice, etc. etc. but. Thoughts for another time.)

Wei Wuxian is granted a happy ending not because he is Good, but because public opinion has changed, because there’s a new scapegoat, because he is protected by someone in power, because he lets go of the past, and because the children see him for who he is. I really do think that the reason MDZS and CQL have a hopeful ending as opposed to a bleak one hinges on the juniors. We are shown very clearly throughout the story how easily and quickly the tide of public opinion turns. The reason we don’t fear that it’s going to happen to Wei Wuxian again (or any other surviving character we love) is, I think, because the juniors, who don’t lose their childhoods to war, have the capacity to see past their parents’ prejudices and evaluate the actions of the people in front of them without having their opinions clouded by intense trauma and fear. They are forged out of love, not fire.

In CQL however, it emphasizes that Wei Wuxian is Fundamentally Good and did No Wrong Ever, so he deserves his happy ending, while Jin Guangyao is Fundamentally Bad and Responsible For Everything, so he got what was coming to him (even if we feel bad for him maybe). That’s not nearly as interesting or meaningful.  

(One specific change to Jin Guangyao’s timeline of evil that I find particularly vexing, not including the one I will discuss in point 2, is changing when Jin Rusong was conceived. In the novel, Qin Su is supposedly already pregnant by the time they get married, and that matters a WHOLE LOT when evaluating Jin Guangyao’s actions, I think.)

2. Wen POWs used as target obstacles at Baifeng Mountain

I know the first point was “here’s an overarching plot change that I think deeply impacts the narrative themes” and this second one is “I despise this one specific scene detail so much”, but HEAR ME OUT. It’s related to the first point! (tbh, most things are related to the first point)

Personally, I think this one detail character assassinates like. almost everyone in attendance, but most egregiously in no particular order: Jin Guangyao, Jin Zixuan (and by extension, Jiang Yanli), Wei Wuxian, Lan Wangji and Lan Xichen.

First, I think it’s a cheap plot device that’s obviously meant to enhance Jin Guangyao’s ~villainy while emphasizing Wei Wuxian’s growing righteous anger, but it fails so spectacularly, god, I literally hate this detail so much lmao. I’ll go by character.

Jin Guangyao: I get that CQL is invested in him being a ~bad person~ or whatever, but this is such a transparently like, cartoon villain move that lacks subtlety and elegance. Jin Guangyao is very dedicated to being highly diplomatic, appeasing, and non-threatening in his bid for power. He manipulates behind the scenes, does his father’s dirty work, etc. but he always shows a gentle, smiling face. This display tips his hand pretty obviously, and even if it were at the behest of his father, there’s literally no reason for him to be so “ohohoho I’m so evil~” about it—if anything, this would only serve to drive his sympathizers away. It’s a stupid move for him politically, and really undercuts his supposed intelligence and cleverness, in my personal opinion.

Jin Zixuan: yes, he is arrogant and vain and likes to show off! But putting his ego above the safety of innocent people? Like, not necessarily OOC, but it sure makes him much less sympathetic in my eyes. I find it hard to believe that Jiang Yanli would find this laudable or acceptable, but she’s given a few shots where she smiles with some kind of pride and it’s like. No! Do not do my queen dirty like this. She wouldn’t!

Wei Wuxian: where do I start! WHERE DO I START. Wei Wuxian is shown to be “righteously angry” about this, but steps down mutinously when Jiang Cheng motions him back. He looks shocked and outraged at Jin Zixuan for showing off with no concern for the safety of the Wen POWs, only to like, two seconds later, do the exact same thing, but worse! And at the provocation of Jin Zixun, no less! *screams into hands* The tonal shift is bizarre! We’re in this really tense ~moral quandary~, but then he flirts with Lan Wangji for a second (tense music still kinda playing?? it’s awful. I hate it), and then does his trickshot. You know! Putting all these people he’s supposedly so concerned about at risk! To one-up Jin Zixuan! It’s nonsensical. It’s such a conflict of priorities. This is supposed to make him seem honorable and cool, I guess? But it mostly just makes him look like a performative hypocrite. :///

Lan Wangji: I cannot believe that Lan Wangji saw this and did not immediately walk out in protest.

Lan Xichen: this is just one part of a larger problem with Lan Xichen’s arc in CQL vs MDZS, where his character development was an unwitting casualty of both wangxian censorship and CQL’s quest to demonize Jin Guangyao. One of the prevailing criticisms I see of Lan Xichen’s character is that he is a “centrist”, that he “allows bad things to happen through his inaction and desire to avoid conflict”, and that he is “stupid and willfully blind to Jin Guangyao’s faults”, when I don’t think any of this is supported by evidence in the novel whatsoever. Jin Guangyao is a subtle villain! He is a talented manipulator and liar! Even Wei Wuxian says it in the novel!

(forgive my rough translations /o\)

Chapter 49, as Wei Wuxian (through Empathy with Nie Mingjue’s head) listens to Lan Xichen defend Meng Yao immediately following Wen Ruohan’s assassination:

魏无羡心中摇头：“泽芜君这个人还是……太纯善了。”可再一想，他是因为已知金光瑶的种种嫌疑才能如此防备，可在蓝曦臣面前的孟瑶，却是一个忍辱负重，身不由己，孤身犯险的卧底，二人视角不同，感受又如何能相提并论？

Wei Wuxian shook his head to himself: “This Zewu-jun is still…… too pure and kind.” But then he thought again—he could only be so guarded because he already knew of all of Jin Guangyao’s suspicious behavior, but the Meng Yao before Lan Xichen was someone who had had no choice but to suffer in silence for his mission, who placed himself in grave danger, alone, undercover. The two of them had different perspectives, so how could their feelings be compared?

Chapter 63, after Wei Wuxian wakes up in the Cloud Recesses, having been brought there by Lan Wangji:

他不是不能理解蓝曦臣。他从聂明玦的视角看金光瑶，将其奸诈狡猾与野心勃勃尽收眼底，然而，如果金光瑶多年来在蓝曦臣面前一直以伪装相示，没理由要他不去相信自己的结义兄弟，却去相信一个臭名昭著腥风血雨之人。

It wasn’t that he couldn’t understand Lan Xichen. He had seen Jin Guangyao from Nie Mingjue’s perspective, and so had seen all of his treacherous and cunning obsession with ambition. However, if Jin Guangyao had for all these years only shown Lan Xichen a disguise, there was no reason for [Lan Xichen] to believe a famously violent person [Wei Wuxian] over his own sworn brother.

Lan Xichen, throughout the story, is being actively lied to and manipulated by Jin Guangyao. His only “mistake” was being kind and trying to give Meng Yao, someone who came from a place of great disadvantage, the benefit of the doubt instead of immediately dismissing him as worthless due to his birth or his station in life. Lan Xichen sees Meng Yao as someone who was forced to make impossible choices in impossible situations—you know, the way that we, the audience, are led to perceive Wei Wuxian. The only difference is that the story that we’re given about Wei Wuxian is true, while the story that Lan Xichen is given about Meng Yao is… not. But how would have have known?

The instant he is presented with a shred of evidence to the contrary, he revokes Jin Guangyao’s access to the Cloud Recesses, pursues that evidence to the last, and is horrified to discover that his trust was misplaced.

Lan Xichen’s willingness to consider different points of view is integral to Wei Wuxian’s survival and eventual happiness. Without Lan Xichen’s kindness, there is no way that Wei Wuxian would have ever been able to clear his name. Everyone else was calling for his blood, but Lan Wangji took him home, and Lan Xichen not only allowed it, he listened to and helped them. To the characters of the book who are not granted omniscient knowledge of Wei Wuxian’s actions and circumstances, there is literally no difference between Wei Wuxian and Jin Guangyao. Lan Xichen is being incredibly fair when he asks in chapter 63:

蓝曦臣笑了，道：“忘机，你又是如何判定，一个人究竟可信不可信？”

他看着魏无羡，道：“你相信魏公子，可我，相信金光瑶。大哥的头在他手上，这件事我们都没有亲眼目睹，都是凭着我们自己对另一个人的了解，相信那个人的说辞。

“你认为自己了解魏无羡，所以信任他；而我也认为自己了解金光瑶，所以我也信任他。你相信自己的判断，那么难道我就不能相信自己的判断吗？”

Lan Xichen laughed and said, “Wangji, how can you determine exactly who should and should not be believed?”

He looked at Wei Wuxian and said, “You believe Wei-gongzi, but I believe Jin Guangyao. Neither of us saw with our own eyes whether Da-ge’s head was in his possession. We base our opinions on our own understandings of someone else, our belief in their testimony.

“You think you understand Wei Wuxian, and so you trust him; I also think I understand Jin Guangyao, so I trust him. You trust your own judgment, so can’t I trust my own judgment as well?”

But he hears them out, examines the proof, and acts immediately.

I really do feel like this aspect of Lan Xichen kind of… became collateral damage in CQL. Because Jin Guangyao is so much more publicly malicious, Lan Xichen’s alleged “lack of action” feels much less understandable or acceptable.

It is wild to me that in this scene, Lan Xichen reacts with discomfort to the proceedings, but has nothing to say to Jin Guangyao about it afterwards and also applauds Wei Wuxian’s archery. (I could talk about Nie Mingjue here as well, but I would say Nie Mingjue and Lan Xichen have very different perspectives on morality, so this moment isn’t necessarily OOC for NMJ, but I do think is very OOC for LXC.) This scene (among a few others that have Jin Guangyao being more openly “evil”) makes Lan Xichen look like a willfully blind bystander by the end of the story, but having him react with any action would have been inconvenient for the plot. Thus, he behaves exactly as he did in the book, but under very different circumstances. It reads inconsistently with the rest of his character (since a lot of the beats in the novel still happen in the show), and weakens the narrative surrounding his person.

None of these overt displays of cruelty or immorality happen in the book, so it makes perfect sense that he doesn’t do or suspect anything! Jin Guangyao is, as stated, perfectly disguised towards Lan Xichen. You can’t blame him for “failing to act” when someone was purposefully keeping him in the dark and, from his perspective, there was nothing to act upon.

This scene specifically is almost purely lighthearted in the novel! If you take out the Wen POWs, this just becomes a fun scene where Wei Wuxian shows off, flirts with Lan Wangji, gets into a pissing match with Jin Zixuan, and is overall kind of a brat! It’s great! I love this scene! The blindfolded shot is ridiculous and over-the-top and very cute!

I know this is a lot of extrapolation, but the whole scene is soured for me due to you know. *gestures upwards* Which is really a shame because it’s one of my favorite silly scenes in the book! Alas! @ CQL why! ;A;

3. Lan Xichen already being an adult and sect leader at the start of the show

This is rapidly becoming a, “Lan Xichen was Wronged and I Have the Receipts” essay (oh no), but you know what, that’s fine I guess! I never said I was impartial!

CQL makes Lan Xichen seem much older and more experienced than he is in the novel, though we’re not given his specific age. In the novel, he is not sect leader yet when Wei Wuxian and co. arrive at the Cloud Recesses for lectures. His father, Qingheng-jun, is in seclusion, and his uncle is the de facto leader of the sect. Lan Xichen does not become sect leader until his father dies at the burning of the Cloud Recesses. Moreover, my understanding of the text is that he is at most 19 years old when this happens. Wen Ruohan remarks that Lan Xichen is still a junior at the beginning of the Sunshot Campaign in chapter 61. (If someone has a different interpretation of the term 小辈, please correct me.) In any case! Lan Xichen is young.

Lan Xichen ascends to power under horrific circumstances: he is not an adult, his father has just been murdered, his uncle seriously injured, his brother kidnapped, and his home burnt to the ground. He is on the run, alone! Carrying the sacred texts of his family and trying to stay alive so his sect is not completely wiped out on the eve of war! He is terrified, inexperienced, and unprepared!

You know, just like Jiang Cheng, a few months later!

I see a lot of people lambasting Lan Xichen for not stepping up to protect the Wen remnants post-Sunshot, but I’m always flummoxed by the accusations because I don’t see criticisms of Jiang Cheng with remotely the same vitriol, even though their political positions are nearly identical:

they are both extraordinarily young sect leaders who came to power before they expected to through incredible violence done to their families

because of this, they are in very weak political positions: they have very little experience to offer as evidence of their competence and right to respect. if they are considered adults, they have only very recently come of age.

Jin Guangshan, who is rapidly and greedily taking the place of the Wen clan in the vacuum of power, is shown to be more than willing to mow people down to get what he wants—and he has the power to do so.

both Yunmeng Jiang and Gusu Lan were crippled by the Wen clan prior to Sunshot. And they just fought a war that lasted two and a half years. they are hugely weakened and in desperate need of time to rebuild, mourn, etc. both Jiang Cheng and Lan Xichen are responsible for the well-being of all of these people who are now relying upon them.

I think it’s very obvious that Jiang Cheng is in an impossible situation because he wears his fears and insecurities on his face and people in power (cough Jin Guangshan) prey upon that, while we, as the audience, have a front row seat for that whole tragedy. We understand his choices, even if they hurt us.

Why shouldn’t Lan Xichen be afforded the same consideration?

I really do think that because he’s presented as someone who’s much more composed and confident in his own abilities than Jiang Cheng is, we tend to forget exactly what pressures he was facing at the same time. We just assume, oh yes, of course Lan Xichen has the power to do something! He’s Lan Xichen! The First Jade! Isn’t he supposed to be Perfectly Good? Why isn’t he doing The Right Thing?

I think this is exacerbated by CQL’s decision to make him an established sect leader at the start of the show with several years of experience under his belt. We don’t know his age, but he is assumed to be an Adult. This gives him more power and stability, and so it seems more unacceptable that he does not make moves to protect the Wen remnants, even if in essence, he and Jiang Cheng’s political positions are still quite similar. He doesn’t really have any more power to save the Wen remnants without placing his whole clan in danger of being wiped out again, but CQL implies that he does, even if it isn’t the intention of the change.

It does make me really sad that this change also drives a further thematic divide between Lan Xichen and the rest of his generation. Almost everyone in that generation came of age through a war, which I think informs the way their tragedies play out, and how those tragedies exist in contrast to the juniors’ behavior and futures. Making Lan Xichen an experienced adult aligns him with the generation prior to him, which, as we’re shown consistently, is the generation whose adherence to absolutism and fear ruined the lives of their children. But Lan Xichen is just as much a victim of this as his peers.

(the exception being maybe Nie Mingjue, but it’s complicated. I think Nie Mingjue occupies a very interesting position in the narrative, but like. That’s. For another time! this is. already so far out of hand. oh my god this is point three out of eight oh nO)

(yet another aside because I can’t help myself: can you believe we were robbed of paralleling scenes of Jiang Cheng and Lan Xichen’s coronations? the visual drama of that. the poetic cinema. it’s not in the book, but can you IMAGINE. thank u @paledreamsblackmoths for putting this image into my head so that I can suffer forever knowing that I’ll never get it.)

I said I wasn’t going to talk at length about any changes surrounding Wangxian’s explicit romance for obvious reasons, but I will at least lament here that because a large percentage of Lan Xichen’s actions and character beats are directly in relation to Lan Wangji’s love for Wei Wuxian, he loses a lot of both minor and major moments to the censors as well. Many of the instances when he encourages Lan Wangji to talk to Wei Wuxian, when he indulges in their relationship etc. are understandably gone. But the most significant moment that was cut for censorship reasons I think is when he loses his temper with Wei Wuxian at the Guanyin temple and lays into him with all the fury and terror he felt for his brother’s broken heart for the last thirteen years.

Lan Xichen is only shown to express true anger twice in the whole story, both times at the Guanyin temple: first against Wei Wuxian for what he perceives as gross disregard for his little brother’s convictions, and second against Jin Guangyao for his massive betrayal of trust. And you know, murdering his best friend. Among other things.

I’m genuinely so sad that we don’t get to see Lan Xichen tear Wei Wuxian to shreds for what he did to Lan Wangji because I think one of the most important aspects to Lan Xichen’s character is how much he loves, cares for and fears for his little brother. The reveal about Lan Wangji’s punishment in episode 43 is a sad and sober conversation, but it’s not nearly as impactful, especially because Wei Wuxian asks about it of his own volition. I understand that this isn’t CQL’s fault! But. I can still mourn it right? ahahaha. :’)

I’ll stop before I descend further into nothing but Lan Xichen meta because that’s. Dangerous. (I have a lot of Feelings about how there are three characters who are held up as paragons of virtue in MDZS, how they all suffered in spite of their goodness, and how that all ties directly into the whole, “it is not enough to be good, but kindness is never wrong” theme. Anyways, they’re Xiao Xingchen, Jiang Yanli, and Lan Xichen, but NOT NOW. NOT TODAY.)

So yes, I’m a Lan Xichen apologist on main, and yes, I understand my feelings are incredibly personally motivated and influenced by my subjective emotions, but no I do not take concrit on this point, thank you very much.

4. all of the Wen remnants turning themselves in alongside Wen Qing and Wen Ning

Okay, back to plot changes. This change I would be willing to bet money was at least partially due to censorship, but it hurts me so deeply hahaha. It makes literally no sense for any of the characters and it completely janks the timeline of events post Qiongqi Dao 2.0 through Wei Wuxian’s death.

It’s not ALL bad—this change makes it easier for the Peak Wangxian moment at the Bloodbath at Nightless City (You know. Hands. Cliff. etc.) to happen, which I did very much enjoy. It’s pretty on-brand for CQL to sacrifice plot for character beats that they want to emphasize, so like. I get it! This moment is a huge gift! I Understand This. CQL collapses the Bloodbath at Nightless City and the First Siege of the Mass Graves into one event for I think a few reasons. One, Wangxian moment without being explicitly Wangxian, which is excellent. Two, it circumvents the Blood Corpse scene, which I do not think would have made it past censorship.

I’ll get to the Blood Corpse scene in a minute, but despite being able to understand why so much might have been sacrificed for the impact of the cliff scene, I still wish it had been done differently (and I feel like it could have been!), if only for my peace of mind because the plot holes it creates are pretty gaping.

The entire point of Wen Qing and Wen Ning turning themselves in is specifically to save their family members and Wei Wuxian from coming to further harm. That’s explicit, even in the show. Jin Guangshan demands that the Wen brother and sister stand for their crimes and claims that the blood debt will be paid. The Wen remnants understand that Wei Wuxian has given up so much for their sakes, that he has lost his family, his home, his respectability, his health, all in the name of sheltering them. To throw all of that away would be the greatest disrespect to his sacrifices. Wen Qing and Wen Ning decide that if their lives can pay for the safety of their loved ones and ensure that Wei Wuxian’s sacrifices matter, they are willing to go together and give themselves up.

So. Why did they. All go?? For… moral support???? D: Wen Qing says that Wei Wuxian will wake up in three days and that she’s given Fourth Uncle and the others instructions for his care–but then Fourth Uncle and the others all go with them!! To die!! There’s also very clearly a shot of Granny Wen taking A’Yuan with them, which like. Obviously didn’t really happen.

Wen Qing, who loves her family more than anything in the world, agrees that they should all go to Lanling and sacrifice themselves to…. protect Wei Wuxian? Wen Qing, pragmatic queen of my heart, agrees to this absurdly bad exchange?? Leaves Wei Wuxian to wake up, alone, with the knowledge that he had not only killed his brother-in-law but also effectively gotten everyone he had left killed also??

I can’t imagine Wen Qing doing that to Wei Wuxian. Save his life? For what? This takes away everything he has left to live for. You think Wen Qing doesn’t intimately understand how cruel that would be?

(Yes, I’m complaining about all of this, but I’m still about to cry because I rewatched the scene to make sure I didn’t say anything untrue, and g o d it manages to hit hard despite all of that, so who’s the real clown here!!)

Anyways. So that’s all just like. Frustratingly incoherent. It’s one of several wrongs I think CQL committed against Wen Qing’s character, but my feelings about Wen Qing in CQL are pretty complicated (I love her so much, and I love that we got more Wen Qing content, but that content sure is a mixed bag of stuff I really enjoyed and stuff I desperately wish didn’t exist) and I decided I wasn’t going to get into it in this post. (is anyone even still reading god)

This change also muddles Lan Wangji’s choices and punishment in ways that I think diminishes the severity of the situation to the detriment of both his characterization and his family’s characterization. The punishment scene is extremely moving and you should read this post about the language used in it but. sldfjsljslkf.

okay well, several things. In the context of CQL, which really pushes the “righteousness” angle of Wei Wuxian (see point 1), I think this scene makes a lot of sense in isolation: both Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian are painted as martyrs for doing the right thing. “Who’s right and who’s wrong?” The audience is asked to see the punishment as “unjust”. That’s perfectly fine and coherent in the context of CQL, but I don’t think it’s nearly as interesting as what happens in MDZS.

Because CQL collapses both the First Siege and the Bloodbath into one event, Lan Wangji’s crimes are sort of unclearly defined. In episode 43, when Lan Xichen is explaining the situation, we see a flashback to when Su She says something along the lines of, “We could set aside the fact that you defended Wei Ying at Nightless City, but now you won’t even let us search his den?” (of course, this gives us the really excellent “you are not qualified to talk to me” line which. delicious. extremely vindicating and satisfying. petty king lan wangji.) Lan Xichen goes on to say something like, “Wangji alone caused several disturbances at the Mass Graves. Uncle was greatly angered, and [decreed his punishment]”. (Sorry, I’m too lazy to type out the full lines with translations, just. trust me on this one.)

Lan Wangji’s actions are shown to be motivated by a righteous love. Wei Wuxian is portrayed as someone innocent who stood up for the right thing against popular opinion and was scapegoated and destroyed for it, having done no wrong. (See, point 1 again.)

In MDZS, Lan Wangji’s crimes are very specific. It isn’t just that he caused some “disturbances” (this is just Lan XIchen’s vague phrasing in CQL—we don’t really know what he did). He steals Wei Wuxian away from the Bloodbath at Nightless City, after Wei Wuxian killed thousands of people, and hides him away in a cave, feeding him spiritual energy to save his life. When Lan Wangji’s family comes to find him, demand that he hand over Wei Wuxian (who is, remember, a mass murderer at this point! we can argue about how culpable he is for those actions all day—that’s the whole point, but the people are still dead), Lan Wangji not only refuses, but raises his hands against his family. He seriously injures thirty-three Lan elders to protect Wei Wuxian.

I don’t know how to emphasize how serious that crime is? Culturally, this is like. Unthinkable. To raise your hand against members of your own family, your elders who loved and raised you, in defense of an outsider, a man who, by all accounts, is horrifically evil and just murdered thousands of people, including other members of your own family, is like. That’s a serious betrayal. Oh my god. Lan Wangji, what have you done?

Lan Xichen explains in chapter 99:

我去看他的时候对他说，魏公子已铸成大错，你何苦错上加错了。他却说……他无法断言你所作所为对错如何，但无论对错，他愿意与你一起承担所有后果。

When I went to see him, I said, “Wei-gongzi’s great wrongs are already set in stone, why take the pains to add wrongs upon wrongs?” But he said…… he had no way to ascertain the rights and wrongs of your actions, but regardless of right or wrong, he was willing to bear all the consequences with you.

I think this is very different than what’s going on in CQL, though the differences appear subtle on the surface. In CQL, Lan Wangji demands of his uncle, “Dare I ask Uncle, who is righteous and who is wicked, who is wrong and who is right?” but the very act of asking in this way implies that Lan Wangji has an opinion on the matter (though perhaps not a simple one).

Lan Wangji in MDZS specifically says that he doesn’t know how to evaluate the morality of Wei Wuxian’s actions, but that regardless, he is willing to bear the consequences of his choices and his actions. He understands that his actions while sheltering Wei Wuxian are not clearly morally defensible. He did it anyways because he loved Wei Wuxian, because he thought that Wei Wuxian was worth saving, that there was still something good in him, despite the things he had done under mitigating circumstances. Lan Wangji did not save Wei Wuxian because he thought it was the right thing to do. He saved him because he loved him.

He is given thirty-three lashes with the discipline whip, one for each elder he maimed, and this leaves him bedridden for three years. Is this punishment horrifyingly severe? Yes! But is it unjustly given? I think that’s a much harder question to answer in the context of the story.

Personally, I think that question underscores the broader questions of morality contained within MDZS. I think it’s a much more interesting take on Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji as individuals. This asks, what can be pardoned? The righteous martyr angle is uncomplicated because moral certainty is easy. I think the situation in MDZS is far more uncomfortable if you examine its implications. And personally, I think that’s more meaningful!

(Not even going to touch on the whole, 300 strokes with a giant rod, but he has whip scars? And they were also sentenced to 300 strokes as kids for drinking alcohol…? CQL is not. consistent. on that front. ahaha.)

God, every point so far in this meta is just like “here’s one change that has cascading effects upon the rest of the show” dear god, okay, I’m getting to the Blood Corpse scene.

So in MDZS, the Wen remnants (besides Wen Ning and Wen Qing) do not go to Lanling. After the Bloodbath at Nightless City, Lan Wangji returns Wei Wuxian to the Mass Graves. Wei Wuxian lives with the Wen remnants for another three months before the First Siege, where he dies and the rest of the Wens are killed (except A’Yuan).

(Sidenote that I won’t get into: I love the dead spaces of time that MDZS creates. There’s very clear gaps in the narrative that we just never get the details on, most notably: Wei Wuxian’s three months in the Mass Graves post core transfer, and Wei Wuxian’s three months in the Mass Graves post Jiang Yanli’s death. They’re both extremely terrible times, but the audence is asked to imagine it instead of ever learning what really happened, what it was like. There’s something really cool about that narratively, I think.)

The Wen remnants are not cremated along with the rest of the dead. Their bodies are thrown into the blood pool.

At the Second Siege, when Wei Wuxian draws a Yin Summoning Flag on his clothes to turn himself into bait for the corpses in order to allow everyone else to escape to safety while he and Lan Wangji fight them off, there’s a moment when it gets really, truly dangerous—even with the help of the juniors and a few of the adults, they probably would have been killed. But then a wave of blood-soaked corpses come crawling out of the blood pool of their own accord and tear their attackers apart.

At the end of it, the blood corpses, the Wen remnants, gather before Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian and Wen Ning. Wei Wuxian thanks them, they exchange bows, and the blood corpses collapse into dust. Wen Ning scrambles to gather their ashes, but runs out of space in his clothing. Several juniors, seeing this, offer up their bags to him and try to help.

It’s just. This scene is so important to me. Obviously, it couldn’t be included in CQL because of the whole undead thing, but it’s such a shame because I maintain that the Blood Corpse scene is one of the most powerful scenes in the whole goddamn book. It ties together so many things that I care about! It’s the moment when the narrative says, “kindness is not a waste”. Wei Wuxian failed to save them, but that doesn’t mean that his actions were done in vain. What he did matters. The year of life he bought them matters. The time they spent together matters.

This is also the moment when the juniors finally see Wen Ning for who he is—not the terrifying Ghost General, but a gentle man who has just lost his family for a second time. This is the moment when they reach out with kindness to the monster that their parents told them about at night. It matters that the juniors are able to do that! That they see this man suffering and are moved to compassion instead of righteous satisfaction.

(Except Jin Ling, for very understandable reasons, but Jin Ling’s moment comes later.)

It’s also the moment that we’re starkly reminded that many of the adults in attendance were present at the First Siege and directly responsible for the murders of the Wen remnants, including Ouyang Zizhen’s father. We’re reminded that he’s not just a comically annoying man with bad takes—he also participated in the murder of innocent people and then disrespected their corpses. But what retribution should be taken against him and the others? What retribution could be taken that wouldn’t lead to more tragedy?

There’s someone in the crowd in this scene named Fang Mengchen who refuses to be swayed by Wei Wuxian’s actions. “He killed my parents,” he says. “What about them? How can I let that go?”

“What more do you want from me?” Wei Wuxian asks. “I have already died once. You do not have to forgive me, but what more should I do?”

That is the ultimate question, isn’t it? What is the only way out of tragedy? You don’t have to forgive, but you cannot continue to take your retribution. It is not fair, but it’s all you have.

okay. so. those were my four Big Points of Contention with CQL, as I am currently experiencing them.

Honorable mentions go to: Wen Qing’s arc (both excellent and awful in different ways), making 13/16 years of Inquiry canon (I think this is untrue to Lan Wangji’s character, though I can understand why it was done), Mianmian’s departure from the Lanling Jin sect being shortened and having the sexism cut out (there’s something really visceral about the accusations against Mianmian being explicitly about her womanhood that I desperately wish had been retained in the show), cutting the scene where Jin Ling cries in mourning for Jin Guangyao and is scolded for it by Sect Leader Yao (my heart for that scene because it also matters so much)

but now!! onto the fun part, where I talk effusively about how much I love CQL!! this will probably be shorter (*prays*) because a lot of my frustrations with CQL are related to spiraling thematic consequences while the things I love are like. Simpler to pinpoint? If that makes sense? we’ll see.

CQL’s greatest virtues, also according to cyan:

1. this:

[ID: Wei Wuxian, trembling in fear, screaming “shijie!” as Jiang Cheng threatens him with Fairy in episode 34 of The Untamed drama. /end ID]

I understand that this is like, a very minor, specific detail change, but oh my GOD, it is like. Unparalleled. Every time I think about this change, I get so emotional and disappointed that it’s not in the novel, because I think it strengthens this scene tenfold. In the novel, Wei Wuxian calls out for Lan Zhan, which like, I get it. The story at this point is focused on the development of his romantic feelings for Lan Wangji, so the point of the scene is that the first person he thinks of in a moment of extreme fear is Lan Zhan, which surprises him. That’s fine. Like, it’s fine! But I think it doesn’t have nearly the same weight as Wei Wuxian calling for his sister to save him from his brother.

Having Wei Wuxian call out for his sister drives home the loss that the two of them have suffered, and highlights the relationship they all once had. Jiang Yanli is much more relevant to shuangjie’s narrative than Lan Wangji ever was, and this highlights exactly how deeply the fracturing of their familial relationship cuts. Wangxian gets so much time and focus throughout the rest of the novel. I love that this moment in the show is just about the Yunmeng siblings because that relationship is no less important, you know?

Calling out for Jiang Yanli in the show draws a much cleaner line through the dialogue. “You dare bring her up before me?” to “Don’t you remember what you said to Jin Ling?” It unifies the scene and twists the knife. It also gives us more insight into how fiercely Wei Wuxian was once beloved and protected by his siblings. Jiang Cheng promised to chase all the dogs away from Wei Wuxian when they were children. It’s clear that Jiang Yanli did as well.

Once upon a time, Wei Wuxian’s siblings defended him from his fears, and now one of them is dead and the other is using that fear to hurt him where he’s weakest. The reversal is so painfully juxtaposed, and it’s done with just that one flashback of Wei Wuxian as a child leaping into Jiang Yanli’s arms and calling out her name. Extremely good, economical storytelling. The conversation between shuangjie is much more focused on their own stories independent from Lan Wangji, which I very much appreciate. Wangxian, you’re wonderful, but this ain’t about you, and I don’t think it should be.

2. Extended Jiang Yanli content (and by extension, Jin Zixuan and Mianmian content)

Speaking of absolute goddess Jiang Yanli, I really loved what CQL did with her (unlike my more mixed feelings about Wen Qing). Having her in so many more scenes makes her importance to Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian a lot clearer, and we get to experience her as a person rather than an ideal.

On a purely aesthetic level, Jiang Yanli’s styling and character design is so stellar in CQL. The more prevalent design for her is kind of childish in the styling, which I don’t love (I think it’s the donghua influence?). And even I, someone who’s audio drama on main 24/7, personally prefer her CQL voice actor. There’s only a few characters in CQL that I look at and go “ah yes, that’s [character] 100%” and Jiang Yanli is one of them. I was blessed. I would lay down my life for her.

I’m really glad that CQL showed her illness more explicitly and gave her a sword, even if she never uses it! Her weak constitution is only mentioned once in the novel in chapter 69 in like two lines that I blew past initially because I was reading at breakneck speed and was only reminded of when my therapist who I conned into reading mdzs after 8 months of never shutting up oof brought it to my attention like two weeks ago. /o\

We never read about Jiang Yanli carrying a sword in the novel, though we are told that her cultivation is “mediocre”, so we know that she at least does cultivate, even if not very well. Highlighting her poor health in CQL makes her situation more clear, I think, and explains a little more about the way she’s perceived throughout the cultivation world as someone “not worthy of Jin Zixuan”. The novel tells us that Jiang Yanli is not an extraordinary beauty, not very good at cultivation, sort of bland in her expressions, and, very briefly, that she’s in poor health. I really love that description of Jiang Yanli, because it emphasizes that her worth has nothing at all to do with her talents, her health, her cultivation, her physical strength, or her beauty. She is the best person in the whole world, her brothers adore her, and the audience loves and respects her for reasons wholly unrelated to those value judgments. We love her because she is kind, because she is loyal, because she loves so deeply. Tbh, her only imperfection is falling for someone so tragically undeserving of her. (JK, I love you Jin Zixuan, and you do deserve her because you are an excellent boy who grows and changes and learns!! I can’t even be mean to characters as a joke god.)

Anyways, I just think the detail about her health is compelling and informs her character’s position in the world in a very specific way. I’m happy that CQL brought it to the forefront when it was kind of an easily-missed throwaway in the novel. It does mean something to me that Jiang Yanli, despite her poor physical health, is never once seen or treated as a burden by her brothers.

Something partially related that really hit hard was this:

[ID: two gifs. Jiang Yanli peeling lotus pods, looking up uncomfortably as her mother loses her temper about the Wen indoctrination at the table from episode 11 of The Untamed drama. /end ID]

D8 AAAAHHH this was VISCERAL. The novel is quite sparse in a lot of its descriptions and lets the audience fill in the missing details, so Jiang Yanli’s expression and reactions are not described when, after Jiang Cheng quickly volunteers to go to Qishan, Madam Yu accuses her of continuing to “happily peel lotus seeds” in such a dire situation.

“Of course you’ll go,” she snaps to Jiang Cheng. “Or else do you think we should let your sister go?”

This scene triggered me so bad lmfao, so I guess it’s kind of weird that I love it so much, but I felt Seen. Something about the way her nail slips in the second gif as she breaks open the pod is like. Oh, that’s a sense memory! Of me, as a child, witnessing uncomfortable conflict between people I cared about. I know this is an extremely personal bias, but hey, so is this whole meta. Because Jiang Yanli is often silent and quiet, it’s more her behavior and expressions that convey her character. It’s why the moment she lets loose on Jin Zixun is so powerful. We don’t get to see a lot of it in the novel, but because CQL is a visual medium, her character is a lot easier to pin down as a human as opposed to an abstract concept.

Anyways, in this moment, which I also think is a tangential reference to her weak constitution (it doesn’t feel like, “your sister can’t go because she’s a girl”; it feels like, “your sister can’t go because she couldn’t handle it”), we get to see Jiang Yanli’s own reaction to her perceived inadequacy. We see it in other places too—like how upset she is when Jin Zixuan dismisses her in several scenes, but this is the one that hits me the hardest because it’s about how her weakness is going to put her little brother in grave danger.

Last Yunmeng siblings with focus on Jiang Yanli scene that isn’t in the novel that I’m just absolutely wrecked over: the dream sequence in episode 28, when Jiang Yanli dreams about Wei Wuxian sailing away from her, but no matter how she shouts, or how she begs Jiang Cheng to help her, she can’t bring him back home.

I’m not going to gif it because I literally just like, fast-forwarded through it and started sobbing uncontrollably in front of my laptop, dear god.

I don’t know where the CQL writers found the backdoor directly into my brain’s nightmare center, but?? they sure did! IDK, I can see how this might be kind of heavy-handed, but it just. The sensation of being in a dream where something is going terribly wrong, but you’re the only one who seems to see it happening? But there’s nothing you can do? I feel like it’s a very fitting nightmare to give Jiang Yanli, who is acutely aware and constantly reminded of how little power she has in the world: not good enough for the boy she likes, not healthy enough to cultivate well, not strong enough to keep her family together.

The whole, elder siblings trying and failing to protect their younger siblings pattern is A Lot in the story, but there’s something particularly painful about seeing it happen to Jiang Yanli because of that awareness. All the other elder siblings are exceptionally talented or powerful in obvious ways. All Jiang Yanli has is the force of her will and the force of her love, and she knows it isn’t enough.

I care a lot about the Yunmeng siblings, okay! And I think CQL did right by them!

I’m only going to spend two seconds talking about Jin Zixuan and Mianmian, but I DO want to mention them.

Anyways, because we get more Jiang Yanli content, we ALSO get more soft xuanli, which is Very Good. Literally my kingdom for disaster het Jin Zixuan treating my girl right!! CQL said het rights, and I’m not even mad about it! I’m really happy that we get to see a little more of how their relationship plays out, and how hard Jin Zixuan works to change his behavior and apologize to her for his mistakes. The novel is from Wei Wuxian’s POV, so we miss the details, alas. Jin Zixuan covered in mud, planting lotuses? Blessed.

I think part of making Mianmian a larger speaking role is for convenience’s sake, but oh boy do I love that choice. Especially the Jin Zixuan & Mianmian relationship. Like, they’re so clearly platonic, and Mianmian is never once portrayed as a threat to Jiang Yanli. They just care about and respect each other a lot? Jin Zixuan’s distress when she defects from the Jin sect gets me in the heart, because it’s just like. God. I think there’s a lot of interesting potential there for her own thoughts re: Wei Wuxian. After all, she leaves her sect in defense of him, but he later kills a friend that she respects and loves. The moments shared between her and Jin Zixuan are minor, but they hint at a deeper relationship that I’m really glad was in the show.

3. To curb the strong, defend the weak: lantern scene (gusu) + rain scene (qiongqi dao 1.0)

I think I basically already explained why I love this so much in this post (just consider that post and this point to be the same haha), but just. Okay. A short addendum.

As much as I love novel wangxian, I really think that including this scene early on emphasizes why Lan Wangji loves Wei Wuxian so deeply. Of course he thinks Wei Wuxian is attractive, but this is the moment when he realizes, oh, this is who I love. Having that moment to reflect upon throughout Wei Wuxian’s descent is so excellent. I have enumerated all of my issues with the “perfectly righteous Wei Wuxian” arc that CQL crafted, but having this narrative throughline in conjunction with the novel arc would be like. My favored supercanon ahaha. (It would need some tweaking, but I think it would work.) It shows us exactly who it is that Lan Wangji sees and is trying to save, who he thinks is still there, underneath all the carnage and despair and violence and grief. This is the Wei Wuxian Lan Wangji loves and is unwilling to let go. This is the Wei Wuxian that Lan Wangji would kill for, that Lan Wangji would stand beside, that Lan Wangji would live for.

4. Meeting Songxiao

As much as I love the unnameable ache of Wei Wuxian never meeting Xiao Xingchen and learning only about his story through secondhand sources in the novel (and the really cool parallel to that where Xiao Xingchen tells A’Qing the story of Baoshan-sanren’s ill-fated disciples: both Xiao Xingchen and Wei Wuxian learn of each other only through the eyes of others, and that is Very Neat), I think the reversal that this meeting in episode 10 sets up wins out just slightly.

I said once in the tags on one of my posts that “songxiao is the tragic parallel of wangxian” and like. Yeah. Basically! If we take songxiao as romantic, the arc of their relationship happens inversely to wangxian, and that parallel is so much clearer and stronger when we have wangxian meeting songxiao in their youth.

The scene of their meeting really does have that Mood™ of uncertain youth seeing happy and secure adults living out the dreams that they’re afraid to name. Wei Wuxian’s eager little, “oh! just like me and Lan Zhan!! Right, Lan Zhan??” when songxiao talk about cultivating together through shared ideals and not blood is. Well, it’s Something.

When they meet again at Yi City, there’s a greater heaviness to it. So this is what happened to the people you once dreamed of becoming! Wangxian have already come to a point where they have an unspoken understanding of their relationship, but Songxiao have lost everything they once had. When Song Lan looks at wangxian, it’s like looking at a mirror of his past, and everyone in attendance knows it.

To me, that unspoken parallel is really emotionally and thematically valuable. All that good, and here is the tragedy that came of it.

okay, look! I managed to keep it shorter!! here are my honorable mentions: that scene where Jin Guangyao tries to hold Jin Ling and Jin Guangshan refuses to let him (it’s hating Jin Guangshan hours all day every day in this household), the grass butterfly leitmotif for Sizhui (im literally crying right now about it shut up), the Jiang Cheng/Wen Qing sideplot (look I know it’s wild that I actually liked that given that I headcanon JC as aspec, but I actually really like how it played out, specifically because Wen Qing and Wei Wuxian are NOT romantic—it sets up an unexpected and interesting comparison)

um. Anyways. I uh. really care about this story. And have a lot of thoughts, which I’m sure will continue to evolve. Maybe in 8 months I’ll return to this and go well, literally none of this applies anymore, but who knows! It’s how I feel right now. I cried literally three times while writing this because MDZS/CQL reached into my chest and yanked my heart right out of my body, but I had fun! *finger guns*

and like, I know I had a LOT to say about what frustrated me about CQL, but I really really hope it’s clear that I adore the show despite all of that. I talk a lot because I care a lot, and my brain only has one setting.

anon, this was like 1000% more than you bargained for, I’m SURE, (and I’m still exercising some restraint, if you can. believe that.) but I hope that you or someone out there got something out of it! if you made it all the way to the end of this meta, wow!! consider me surprised and grateful!!

time to crawl back into my hovel so I can write Lan Xichen fic and cry

(ko-fi? ;A;)

#the untamed #the untamed meta #mdzs #mdzs meme #mo dao zu shi #mine #mymeta #asks and replies #Anonymous #HOOOOOO BOY GUYS #we are just shy of 10k on this #*buries face in hands*#cyan writes #cyan gets too deep in the weeds #i will be shocked if more than like ten people read this #by the end it was just like well i guess this is just for me now lmfao #anyways. i will now. leave the internet for a while. thanks

3K notes · View notes

plant-flwrs · 3 years

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Hiii, i love your writing. I was wondering if you could do a remus lupin imagine. Were its mutual pinnin but they dont know the other like them. And sirus gets tired of it and takes pollyjuice to look like remus and get you to confess🥺

under the mistletoe // remus lupin

masterlist!

a/n: oh my god i’ve been non-stop reading atyd and it is my new obsession. it’s completely canon to me now. ty for ur request! i used they/them pronouns because you didn’t specify, so i hope that’s alright <3 oh! also! im gonna try this new thing w my fics to see if they flow better that way; instead of just jumping in time i’ll put a little indicator (-). wanted to try it out, dunno if i’ll keep using it. i’m so excited for christmas and this put me in an even more christmasy mood omg

summary: Staying at Hogwarts for the holidays seemed like the best way to avoid distractions, but with the Marauders there, distractions were guaranteed. Especially when your crush on Remus proves to be incredibly distracting.

cw: underage drinking (hangover vomiting), swearing (harmless, classic Sirius things)

(8k) (haven’t written this much in so long wow i forgot i could)

----------

The Gryffindor common room was your most favorite place in Hogwarts. It was warm and comforting, and you had some of your best memories there. With just a glance around the room you could feel your entire school career in just one room.

Though, now that you were in your sixth year, it wasn’t the leisurely place it used to be.

All around you, books touched any bare surface there was. N.E.W.T.’s were sooner than you’d like, sooner than anyone liked, and you were filled with anxiety. You knew your strenuous studying was a bit soon, but you felt like you had the weight of the world on your shoulders.

You felt so stressed, in fact, that not even Lily Evans could convince you to go home for the holidays that Christmas.

“Exams are months away, Y/n!” she sighed as you fell down onto the couch beside her, narrowly returning before curfew from the library, “You ought to enjoy Christmas.”

“I will enjoy it. Here,” you said, rolling your head back and closing your eyes.

You felt sore, as if you had run a marathon, but you had been locked away in the library all day.

Part of you, the smallest part, blamed Remus Lupin for this newfound obsession. Your fellow Gryffindor, the most studious boy in your year, was the initial reason for your new studying habits. You had started going to the library in an attempt to steal glances at him, an innocent crush that you most definitely let overcome you.

Remus had always gone to the library, you knew that, but ever since your O.W.L.’s he seemed to take extra pride in his work. You couldn’t blame him for secluding himself in the library, for that was the only place on campus that it seemed his rowdy friends did not go.

“You can’t enjoy Christmas alone,” Lily tutted, pulling the massive textbook off your lap and putting it on the table in front of you.

“You’re staying for the holidays, too?”

Sirius had just bounded down the stairs from the boys dormitories, his usual mischievous smirk on his face.

“Yes, they are,” Lily answered for you, turning to look at Sirius as he hovered behind you near the stairs.

“Well, that’s lucky,” he said, acting as if he had a secret he took pride in no one else knowing.

“Why is that, Sirius?” Lily sighed, becoming annoyed.

“Remus, James, Peter, and I are staying, too,” he said, smirk turning into a boyish smile.

“You are?” you opened your eyes and turned to face him, finally.

He met your gaze and nodded excitedly, seeming to already have the Christmas spirit in him.

“So you won’t be alone!” Lily said excitedly, then turned towards Sirius with a more dull tone, “Not the best company, but at least not alone.”

Sirius scoffed in mock offence, scrunching his face up with imaginary tears as he stomped back up the stairs.

“God, that lot is so bizarre,” she groaned, turning back to you on the couch to see you dozing off.

(-)

Snow fell on the grounds of Hogwarts, and you gazed at it from a fogged up window in the library.

Lily had gone, Mary had gone, Marlene had gone, just about everyone had gone. You had never stayed at Hogwarts for the holidays before, and you knew not many people did, but you expected more than there were.

No Slytherins had stayed, which was a welcomed absence from those who did. You knew the two Hufflepuffs that remained, but only because you had classes with them in your fourth year. The Ravenclaws that stayed, there couldn’t have been more than five of them, were often holed up the in the library with you. There were the most Gryffindors, five, including you and the marauders.

You were almost surprised that James had gone through with staying; Remus had mentioned wonderful things about the Potters and the Christmases they hosted. Still, he was here, cheerful as ever.

As your eyes blurred with tiredness and the window became nearly too fogged to see through, you sighed in frustration.

You missed your family, you missed home, and you really regretted staying at school. You decided to give yourself the day off from studying. With a glance down at your watch, you saw it was nearly lunch time anyways. You had slept in and missed breakfast, coming straight to the library, and your stomach felt empty.

You made your way to the common room, wanting to drop off the heavy books you had accumulated. Mumbling the password to the portrait, you stumbled through without noticing the rowdy conversation coming towards you.

You ran right into James’ chest, stumbling back and already mumbling an apology.

“Y/n?” he asked happily, as if he had been looking for you.

“Hey, guys,” you sighed, forcing a polite smile when all you really wanted to do was collapse on the couch and sleep for days.

“Sirius told us you were staying, but I’d thought you’d changed your mind. Haven’t seen you since the holiday started!” James’s booming and joyful voice made you want to cringe away, but you couldn’t manage anything less than a small smile at his kindness.

“I’ve been in the library,” you explained, chuckling at the horrified look on three of the four faces.

“You’re worse than I’d thought,” Sirius started, cut off by a sharp elbow to the ribcage by Remus, which only seemed to encourage him.

“We can’t have that,” James finished for him, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes.

“Oi,” Remus started, casting a sympathetic smile at you as he tried to stop his friends from potentially insulting you.

“Why don’t you come have lunch with us?” Peter squeaked from behind James as he glanced at the two dark-headed boys for some sort of approval, “We were just on our way down.”

“What a great idea, Wormtail!” Sirius boomed, earning himself another elbow to the side from Remus.

You glanced nervously at the boys in front of you, trying to discern if they were setting you up for a joke or teasing you.

“You don’t have to-” Remus blurted out, his cheeks pink, “-I mean, if you’re busy with your studies. I know how hard your working-”

“Nonsense, Moony!” James smiled, levitating your bag off your shoulder and easily landing it on the floor somewhere behind him, “they have to eat!”

You chuckled, ducking your head down as James slung his arm around your shoulder and escorted you back through the portrait hole.

You felt lighter immediately. Whether it was the absence of your heavy bag, or the way the boys’ easy conversation and laughter felt so inviting and warm, you did not know.

The self-pity you had been feeling only a moment ago seemed to go, too. James kept his brotherly arm around your shoulder all the way to the Great Hall, where he split his path and sat across from you. Sirius followed you down the isle, continuing his teasing conversation with Peter. James sat between Remus and Peter, his smile never faltering. He acted as if eating lunch with his mates and their tag-along was the best thing he had ever done.

Remus was quiet, almost shy, but you knew that. You had known him your entire time at Hogwarts, and the crush you had on him seemed to last that whole time. You had seen him come out of his shell as the years went on, but he didn’t seem nearly as comfortable as when he was with his friends.

You stifled your laughter with the back of your hand, blushing slightly at Sirius’s rude joke as he bumped his shoulder into yours. You looked down at your plate, pushing around the mashed potatoes that had grown cold.

“Sirius!” Peter yelped, his eyes wide in shock as he nervously glanced to you.

Sirius had made a crude joke, you knew that, but you hadn’t heard it. You and Remus had been meeting in short bursts of eye contact and the small action alone was making your spine shiver.

You looked up from your potatoes, seeing the boys fading with laughter and delve back into their food. That was something you never understood about boys; they sat down, ate and ate until they were done, and then got to talking. You, Lily, Marlene, and Mary could talk for hours while you ate, but the boys seemed unable to do more than one thing at once.

The thought brought a fond smile to your face, and you felt something bump against your shin. Looking up from your plate, you met Remus’s eyes again.

“What’s got you smiling?” he asked, his voice kind with a teasing nature behind it.

James looked up from his plate in the middle of shoving what had to be an entire chicken breast in his mouth, and began cooing at you as your cheeks flushed.

“’M just happy you lot stayed,” you blushed, refusing to meet Remus’s eyes, “would have been dreadful without your company.”

Sirius, without missing a beat, threw his arm around your shoulders and drew you into his chest. His large hand went to your head, ruffling up your hair. You cringed away, giggling and attempting to lay your hair smooth.

Everyone’s cheers in agreeance died down, and James roped Sirius into a heated discussion about Quidditch as Peter hung onto his every word.

“‘M happy you stayed, too,” Remus mumbled from across the table, his head ducked down as a blush was creeping up the back of his neck.

You fought the urge to break the eye contact, giving him a smile so wide that your cheeks burned.

You all returned to the common room with full stomachs and wide smiles, courtesy of James, who had just announced his newest plan at getting Lily’s attention. You just finished listing off all the reasons she would hate it, and he clambered through the portrait hole with a dazed smile that a lovesick puppy would have.

You trailed behind the boys, watching them all fall onto comfortable couches and armchairs. You looked at your limp backpack indignantly, choosing instead to follow them.

You curled up in an armchair that was across a large couch occupied by James and Sirius and to the left of another armchair occupied by Peter. Peter leaned forwards to rest his elbows on his knees, setting up a new chess game for him and Remus to play. Remus sat on the ground, eyelevel with the board. He noticed you looking at him and gave you a kind smile that made you look away, blushing.

The night was spent in leisure. You had barely wanted to get up for dinner, even Sirius suggested making Peter go down to the kitchens so they wouldn’t all have to go to the hall. In the end, you all went, having just as much of a good time as you did at lunch.

You wished them a goodnight after you fell asleep watching Sirius and Remus levitating the most valuable things they could find in the room, sending Peter into anxious fits every time they pretended to loose their balance. You groggily walked up the stairs to the dormitories, leaving your homework downstairs with a satisfied sigh.

For a few moments before you fell asleep again, Remus’s brilliant and bright smile was burned behind your eyes.

(-)

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Sirius groaned, throwing himself dramatically onto the couch with a huff.

“Shud up,” Remus groaned, falling into the armchair you had been sitting in. He could smell you on the chair, your scent floating into his nose like it was intoxicating.

“Really botched that one, mate,” James said with a chuckle, picking up a few of his Quidditch magazines off of the floor and putting them back on the coffee table, where Peter had accidentally knocked them off.

“Romance is confusing! How was I supposed to know?!” Remus groaned, lifting his head from his hands with a desperate look.

James gave him a knowing smirk, and Sirius groaned again.

“It was obvious! You always offer to walk a romantic interest home,” Sirius said, twirling his wand in his hand.

“They were just going upstairs,” Peter mumbled, seeming to agree with Remus.

“It’s alright, Moony,” James said, standing from the couch with a look of determination, “you’ve got all week to seduce them.”

“Shud up,” Remus groaned, repeating his request from earlier.

His eyes fell to the stairs you had climbed moments ago, remembering the peaceful look on your face as you slept, the adorable stretch you did once you woke up, the tired way you climbed the stairs, and that beautiful smile you gave them when you said goodnight.

Remus decided to stay in the common room for a bit longer once his friends had went upstairs, trying to force every second from the time you spent together that day into his memory permanently.

(-)

You woke up feeling more rested than you had in weeks. The sun was barely in the sky when you opened the curtains, your unusually empty room flooded with orange light. You dressed quickly, donning muggle clothes that you found incredibly comfortable.

You went down to the common room, seeing that the mess the boys had made last night was either cleaned by them or house elves. There was no sign of life in the Gryffindor tower, besides yourself, so you assumed the four were still soundly asleep upstairs.

You found your backpack, overflowing with loose papers, and shrugged it onto your shoulders. You had decided to get some work done today, seeing as your day off the day before was not scheduled.

You ate a quick breakfast in the empty hall, finding it odd and strangely discomforting to be in such a large room by yourself. It felt as if you were out past curfew.

The library was the same case. Madam Pince was not even at her desk yet, and you settled into a table by the window. You opened it a sliver, enjoying the cold winter air that seeped into the room. The sunlight warmed you, and the wind was gentle enough to not rustle your papers.

You dove into your work, feeling considerably better than yesterday, or the past month. Your muscles were loose, and the pressure you had been putting on yourself was no longer there. One night of fun proved to be harmless, and so did the marauders.

You smiled at the thought of it, at the thought of your little day with Remus. He had been so kind to you, so funny and charming. You had never liked someone as much as you liked Remus.

You found your gaze drifting out the window, looking past the castle and Hagrid’s hut and out into the Forbidden Forest. You couldn’t think of anything but the curly headed, dirty blonde boy. The way his eyes nervously darted to yours, his sheepish smile. The way he could easily make James, Sirius, and Peter fall into doubled-over laughter, almost as if good-naturedness came to him as easily as walking did.

The sun rose in the sky, and it was almost time for lunch. Even with your mind distracted, you had gotten done more work than you had expected. You decided that if the boys asked you to have lunch with them again, you wouldn’t decline.

It was as if your thoughts were read, because just as you were organizing your papers to put them away, Remus walked into the library. You fumbled a bit, realizing you smudged some fresh ink on your newly written Potions notes. You didn’t care, though, smiling widely and waving Remus over.

“Alright?” he asked groggily, rubbing his eyes as if he had just woken up.

“Yeah, you?” you couldn’t help but stare at him. His voice was deep and thick with sleep, and he pulled the sleeves of his sweater over his slender hands. He had a muggle novel tucked under his arm, and he put it on the table as he sat down across from you.

“Eh,” he started, looking at you with slight amusement, “James woke up at the crack of dawn to go to the pitch, and he woke up Sirius when he did. Sirius is a git if he gets woken up before noon.”

“That’s not a surprising piece of information,” you chuckled, setting down your papers and getting comfortable in your seat again.

“Yeah, best to stay out of the dorm when Sirius is in a mood. Peter went to ask for some extension on a paper he forgot to do,” Remus smiled fondly at his friends flaws, opening his book and propping it on his knee, “so I figured I’d come find you.”

“You found me,” you opened your ink bottle and dipped your quill into it, going over your Potions notes and fixing the smudged ink.

You were a bit disappointed by Remus’s reasons for coming to see you. Part of you had hoped he missed you, or enjoyed your presence. But the truth was that you were his only other option for company. Your chest deflated slightly as you stole a glance at him only to find him deeply invested in his book. Many conversation starters bubbled in your throat but you couldn’t bring yourself to voice any of them.

It was about an hour of silence in the library before Remus suggested lunch. He helped you pack up your things, humming under his breath as he led the way out of the library.

Lunch was soup, which you didn’t mind too much. Sirius was already at the table with James when you arrived. Remus sat next to you, across from his friends.

Sirius had his head propped up in his hand, lazily bringing soup to his mouth before dropping the spoon into the bowl with a clatter as his eyes fluttered shut. James rolled his eyes, shoving the bowl of soup away from him and wiping up the splattered mess from the table.

James eagerly dove into a cheery conversation about his solo Quidditch practice, and Remus reluctantly listened. You felt as exhausted as Sirius looked, even though you had a wonderful nights sleep. You hadn’t felt so tired until your upsetting thoughts about Remus, but now you could barely keep your eyes open. You hadn’t been sitting for more than ten minutes, your soup was barely eaten, but you just wanted to curl up in your dorm.

Peter came into the hall, filing down the row where you had Remus were sitting. He was getting close, and you stood.

“Here, Peter, have my seat,” you said, slowly standing as James’ face contorted with confusion. You could see him working out pleas for you to stay, and your heart warmed a bit.

“I’m gonna have a lay down,” you excused, not waiting for Sirius’s head to lift from his hand or for James to suggest all of you walking back together.

As you walked away, you heard Peter begin to chat about his essay extension.

(-)

Remus knew he had done something wrong. He knew it.

You had seemed happy to see him, you smiled at him, you were friendly, but at some point he said something to make you close off. He was looking forward to spending the morning in the library with you. He had made up the excuse of getting out of the dorm, knowing that with Pete and James gone and Sirius out cold, it would be fairly peaceful. Remus, however, wanted to see you.

You looked heavenly dressed in casual muggle clothes with the morning sun lighting your face. He was happy to sit with you, but you didn’t seem happy to sit with him.

He wondered if you were bothered by him and his friends. If yesterday hadn’t been as fun as he thought it was, and if you just wanted to be left alone. He felt a surge of annoyance with James for being so forward, but quickly drowned that out. It wasn’t James’s fault.

Remus stared into his bowl of soup, not listening to Pete as he complained about the essay he had to write.

James indulged Pete, listening to his complaints with sympathy as he dipped his bread into his soup. Sirius, however, could not be bothered.

He had come to attention when you left the table, watching your hunched shoulders and nervous hands pushing your hair off your face. He had even caught your sad glance over you shoulder at Remus before you finally turned to go upstairs. Sirius was thinking, he was thinking hard. He could read you and Remus like an open book. He had known you liked Remus since you started showing up to the library whenever Remus did, no matter how subtle you thought you were being.

Sirius looked at his friend, confusion knitted in his eyebrows as he hunched over his food. He gasped silently, catching James’s attention, as his eyes lit up with an idea.

(-)

For the next couple of days, it was not hard to avoid your fellow housemates. James and Sirius seemed to be sneaking off as often as they could, clutching their cloaks close to them as if they had something underneath them.

You avoided Remus, who presumably only had Pete to keep him company now, by staying in your dorm. The library wasn’t the only place you could study, and you spread your books all across Lily’s bed. You had begun to enjoy studying in your dorm, it was private and quiet, with no Madam Pince staring you down from her desk.

It wasn’t that you disliked the marauders’ company, because you didn’t. You really liked hanging out with the boys. You had just wanted to prevent any more heartache when hanging out with Remus. You had obsessed over your last interaction in the library, convincing yourself it would be best to stay away from the boy as to not attach yourself any further.

It was nearing the weekend, Christmas on the upcoming Saturday. You didn’t want to be in solitude on Christmas, but your pride prevented you from asking to hang out with the boys. You didn’t know what Sirius and James were up to, and you didn’t want to know. You didn’t feel like hanging out with Peter, because being in his presence alone made you just as anxious as he was. And Remus, Remus was an entirely different story. Just seeing Remus made your heart race unnervingly.

On Thursday night, you crept down the dormitory stairs and into the common room. You stopped and waited to hear for Peter and Remus, but it seemed they were still in their room. You were going down for an early dinner, hoping to eat quickly before everyone else came down.

You seemed to be successful, your plate was nearly cleared and there was no sign of anyone else. You were serving yourself pudding, your favorite pudding, when someone sat across from you.

You looked up. Your throat closed involuntarily, and your spoon froze on it’s way to your mouth. You straightened your back, eyes widening at the sight of him, and wiped your mouth nervously with your napkin.

“Hey, Remus,” you said, smiling politely at him as he began to dish himself food, “where are the rest of the boys?”

“Just me,” he said, his voice sounding a little higher than usual.

“Are you alright?” you watched him carefully as you noticed his posture was straighter than usual.

“Yeah,” he chuckled, looking at you now.

You looked at him, squinting your eyes. He seemed off, but you figured he could be nervous without his friends around.

“Okay,” you trailed off, returning to your pudding.

“Haven’t seen you much, recently,” he said confidently, the usual softness in his voice absent.

“I’ve just been up in my dorm,” you said, still gazing at him cautiously.

“Don’t want to spend time with Sirius, James, and I?”

You bit your lip, looking at him with a serious expression. Remus never excluded Peter when he was talking about his friends, but Sirius often did. You noted it, unsure what that could mean. Had Remus asked Sirius on advice at how to talk to you? The thought made you suppress nervous giggles.

“No, it’s not that,” you felt your cheeks warm under his blatant stare, “you know how crazy I am about the N.E.W.T.’s.”

Remus chuckled under his breath, slowly eating his pudding. This was also weird, because Remus usually devoured any food in front of him as if he was a starving animal.

“Remus, are you sure your alright?” you squinted at him, dropping your spoon and propping your chin up with your hand.

“Yes, I’m fine,” he said nonchalantly, squinting back at you.

He had remarkably less patience and ease than usual.

“Okay, well, I’m done eating. I think I’ll go back to the tower now,” you stood slowly, watching his face contort with urgency.

“Wait!” he called, standing too, “wait, come sit for a second.”

You joined him again, clearly suspicious. You wondered if he was distracting you while the boys set up a prank.

“I need to ask you something,” he whispered seriously, leaning closer to you over the table.

“What?”

“Do you fancy me?” he smirked at you, mischief in his eyes.

At first you wanted to shrink away, blush madly and sputter out lies to conceal your true feelings. But you didn’t. You kept his stare, a blank face looking into his daring one. You decided to make a guess.

“Sirius?” you said confidently, so it didn’t sound like a wild guess. You knew it was crazy. Surely, Sirius would never transfigure into his best friend to eat dinner alone with you and ask him about your feelings for him. Surely.

“How did you know!?” he asked, his voice now completely Sirius’s instead of his weird imitation of Remus’s voice.

“What!?” you questioned back, surprised that you were right, “It’s actually you, Sirius?”

Sirius’s face, well, still Remus’s face, dropped with disappointment, upset that he gave himself away.

“Yes,” he mumbled, moving his hand to tuck his hair behind his ear, only to remember Remus’s hair wasn’t that long.

“What are you playing at? How did you do this?” you motioned your hands at him, sounding more amazed than angry.

“Polyjuice Potion,” he said mischievously, his eyes meeting yours at the tone of your voice.

“That’s really advance stuff, Sirius,” you said, slightly impressed as you leaned back and crossed your arms.

“I had some help,” he said sneakily, and suddenly what he and James had been sneaking off for made sense.

“Are you two planning something? Testing out the costume on me?” you said excitedly, hoping the boys would let you in on whatever prank they had planned.

“Well, about that,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck, “you sort of were the plan.”

You looked at him, confused. It felt weird to be talking so casually with Remus, and you fought the urge to blush every time he looked at you, knowing it was actually Sirius.

“I know you fancy Remus,” Sirius said, sounding a bit guilty.

This time, you could not resist shrinking away and blushing. You looked down at your lap, feeling incredibly embarrassed.

“But,” Sirius started again, his voice oddly comforting and kind, “I know Remus likes you, too.”

Your eyes shot up to meet Sirius’s, your face becoming somehow even more flushed.

“You were trying to get me to admit it to you? That I like him?” you asked him, heart racing.

“I just wanted you to confirm it,” he said, sounding even more guilty, “I didn’t want to try and set you two up if you didn’t like him back-”

“Set us up?!” you interrupted, eyes wide.

“Yeah,” he said casually.

“How do you plan on doing that, then?” You tried to sound annoyed in an attempt to hide just how excited you were.

Sirius had waved over James immediately, who has hiding behind a pillar in the courtyard looking in on you and Sirius. The two began talking almost as animatedly as two schoolgirls stricken with an exciting prospect of romance.

You watched, lazily propping your chin on your hand as they rambled on about the ways they thought you should confront Remus.

James had been quite keen on them influencing Remus to confront you, and Sirius reckoned you ought to “grow a pair” and kiss him yourself. James was nearly affronted by the idea, insisting on a classic and romantic gesture from Remus’s behalf.

Either way, you couldn’t fight an embarrassed blush that seemed permanently glued onto your cheeks. You swallowed heavily at any mention of kissing, which was being discussed at length. You had half a mind to stop the hopeful ramblings, but James and Sirius were Remus’s best friends, they had to be somewhat right about his feelings for you.

The conversation got remarkably easier, too, once the potion had warn off and it was Sirius in front of you instead of a fake Remus.

You looked into the courtyard, enjoying the cold air lofting into the room through the open doors, when you noticed Remus and Peter entering the room. The cold air had been helping in cooling your cheeks, but at the sight of Remus’s wide and carefree smile, they warmed immediately.

“Shut up!” you mumbled harshly to the still ranting dark-haired boys in front of you, kicking them each in the shin for good measure.

They looked offended, but Sirius caught your eye and smirked once he realized why they were silenced.

“Have you guys eaten already?” Peter asked, sounding disappointed as he sat next to you and saw your empty bowl of pudding.

“Just had an early lunch,” James said merrily, moving to scoop himself another bowl of pudding after he had eaten an entire lunch while he and Sirius were talking, “but we’ll stay while you guys eat.”

You swallowed hard, looking at James with wide eyes as he quirked an eyebrow at you. You were planning on leaving the second Remus sat between James and Sirius, right across from you, but now you couldn’t be so obvious.

“Haven’t seen you in a while, Y/n,” Peter mumbled from beside you, stuffing his face with a large heaping of peas.

You looked to Remus almost automatically, only to see him looking questioningly at you. You couldn’t resist the small smile that flirted on your lips as he averted your gaze quickly.

“I can’t get much work done with you lot around,” you teased, clearing the table in front of you and resting your elbows there, “I’ve been in my dorm, most days.”

“What about for Christmas?” Peter pried curiously, “Will you leave your dorm for Christmas?”

“Of course they will!” James boomed from across the table, causing a few tired looking Ravenclaws who were just coming in to glare at him apprehensively, “Starting Christmas Eve, they won’t be able to get rid of us.”

“Oh,” you looked to him, eyebrows raised in entertainment, “I won’t?”

Remus looked between you and James with an excited smile.

“Of course not,” Sirius said for James, picking a carrot off of Peter’s plate from across the table.

“For a limited time,” James said mysteriously, “you will have the honor of becoming a temporary Marauder.”

“They what?” Peter said from his goblet of pumpkin juice, causing some to splash back in his face.

“Peter!” Sirius groaned, annoyed with the boy, “Get in the holiday spirit!”

“Don’t worry Pete, just for a limited time. The holidays are a season of extending great charity to others,” James said, talking with humor in his tone.

“Charity?” you repeated, an amused smile on your face.

“We don’t let in just anyone,” Remus said, looking only at you.

When your eyes met his, you felt all the air leave your lungs. Your jaw clenched in an attempt to gather some sort of consciousness, but all you could do was look back at Remus.

“That’s true, ‘tis a great honor,” Sirius had raised his goblet in some sort of toast, and you had barely noticed until Remus was raising his glass.

You broke the contact, finally, and sputtered for a moment before you could find your goblet on the table. You rose it, hoping to lower it quickly as you noticed a slight tremble in your hand. Remus connected his goblet with yours gently, looking at you again while you were intent on avoiding his eyes. He had some sort of knowing smile on his face, and you felt very exposed to him. It felt like he was reaching in your chest and squeezing your heart for his own pleasure, and it scared you to know you could not tell him to stop.

(-)

Christmas Eve was very celebrated amongst the boys.

So celebrated, in fact, that Sirius insisted Christmas morning was a day for hangovers.

He had brought out the firewhisky fairly early into the afternoon. James had looked at him with nervousness, but nonetheless took a heaping sip when offered a glass. You sipped casually, not feeling all too comfortable with the chaos that seemed to lurk in Sirius’s eyes.

By the time the sun was beneath the horizon, Sirius and James were dancing some sort of Irish jig on a table, and Peter was very angrily talking to himself in a mirror. You and Remus, neither of you having very much to drink, sat comfortably on a couch, watching the night unfold.

“Why aren’t you drinking with them?” you asked Remus, glancing at his full cup and tensed shoulders.

He glanced down at you, nervously biting his lip and running a hand through his hair. Oh, how you wanted to touch his hair.

“I don’t really feel like being hungover on Christmas,” he said, noticing your full cup as well, “what about you?”

“I don’t think Lily would ever forgive me if she found out I got drunk with you lot on Christmas Eve,” you teased, smiling to yourself at the fond thought of your friend.

“I miss Lily,” Remus remarked simply, bringing his cup to his lips and taking a large gulp.

“Me too,” you sighed, doing the same and hoping it would ease your nerves, “she wrote to me yesterday. She’s having a lovely Christmas. Her sister is being awful, but that’s per usual.”

You and Remus shared a knowing smile, both thinking of the complaints you had heard from Lily about her sister.

“Have you written back yet?”

“No, not yet. I was going to wait until after Christmas,” you were waiting to write Lily back so you could thank her first for the undoubtedly wonderful present she got you. You didn’t know how, but Lily Evans always gave the most thoughtful presents.

“When you do, tell her we miss her,” Remus said softly, his cheeks beginning to flush pink as he watched with a smile his friends dancing.

You nodded, ducking your head to hide a smile.

“Oi!” James yelled, stopping his dance suddenly.

You and Remus froze as he looked at the pair of you, each wearing an entertained smile. James hopped off the table with ease, as if he was not drunk out of his mind and as if the table wasn’t a good four feet off the ground.

“Come dance,” James said once he finally reached the both of you, though, only offering you his hand.

He waved his wand at a muggle radio they had in the corner, and the volume increased. Sirius smiled widely, refreshing his drink with the dwindling amount of firewhisky left. You cautiously took James’s hand, letting him spin you as you giggled.

James caught Remus’s eye, the blonde boy watching you with adoration. James pulled you close, resting one hand on your shoulder as the other held your hand, and leaned in close to your ear.

“Moony is watching you,” he slurred, sounding excited, “I reckon he’ll make a move tonight if Sirius doesn’t finish all the liquor for himself!”

James pulled away, giggling once again like a schoolgirl. You could not help his infectious laughter, your forehead falling onto his shoulder as you laughed loudly. As if on que, Remus stood and walked with determination to Sirius. He took Sirius’s goblet and downed it, smiling widely and accomplishedly afterwards. He climbed on the table with Sirius, who had long forgotten about his stolen alcohol, and began awkwardly moving his lanky body in a way that could be called dancing in the most generous of terms. This made you laugh even more, and James had to nearly fully support your weight as your knees buckled with your hard laughter.

It was shaping up to be a lovely Christmas Eve.

(-)

Christmas, as Sirius had predicted, was a morning for hangovers. You had barely glanced at your mounds of presents at the foot of your bed, instead throwing on your warmest sweater and going immediately to breakfast.

It had been decorated, as it had all week, with great care. Today, however, the tree had been alit with wonderful and delicate decorations, sparkling under the enchanted ceiling. The entire room somehow smelled of pine, and the warm feeling of a fireplace shot down your spine when you sat down.

You cradled a cup of tea, hunching over and fighting the urge to fall back asleep at the table. You couldn’t bear to look at food yet, regretting the glasses you drank once Sirius had found that second bottle of firewhisky.

There was no sign of life in the castle, besides the lovely decorations, and you found yourself grateful.

It was as if, however, that you cursed yourself the second you thought this.

“Merry Christmas, Y/n!” James shouted from the entry way of the castle, his loud voice assaulting your ears even from such a distance. Beside him, Peter, Sirius, and Remus cringed away in pain, shrinking down and walking past him into the hall.

“Bloody. Fucking. Hell,” Sirius groaned once he sat down next to you, his head hitting the table as soon as he was still.

Remus sat on the other side of you, going at once for heaping servings of the hot food. You swallowed the vomit in your throat at the sight of so much food, forcing your eyes deep into your tea. James happily sat down next to Peter on the other side of the table, patting his friend merrily on the back. Peter winced audibly, a pained look on his face.

“How are you not hungover?” you whispered once you were sure you would not vomit.

“He never gets hungover,” Remus groaned from beside you, his mouth full of beans.

“Never?” you repeated, wincing as you reached for more tea.

“Never!” James said happily, obviously enjoying his wonderful, wonderful gift.

“Oi!” Sirius groaned, his head still buried in his arms.

James smiled.

“Eating helps, really,” Remus said from beside you, glancing an earnest look at you as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

“Mmmmm,” you groaned in response, ducking your head down as Sirius was doing to avoid vomiting.

“What a lovely Christmas this will be!” James said, earning a unanimous groan in response.

(-)

Getting back to the tower was a slow and painful process that included many bathroom breaks and headaches. You and Sirius had both ducked into the loo twice each to vomit, and James supposed it had something to do with climbing the stairs. Peter was limping for some reason, though you could not remember him hurting either of his legs the night before. Remus was nearly as recovered as James, just looking a bit tired.

After you were sure you had emptied your stomach of the tea you drank for breakfast, you were feeling a bit better. Your legs felt a little wobbly, and Remus must have noticed, because he offered his arm for you to steady yourself on as you walked along. Your mind was so foggy you almost had not noticed, but his strong arm beneath your fingers was enough to clear you up a little. You held him close to you, hoping the hangover was excuse enough. James gave you and encouraging smile, nodding enthusiastically. You were sure Sirius would be giving you a smirk if he wasn’t basically crawling down the halls.

Once you reached the common room, Remus had not retracted his arm. In fact, he had interlocked his hand with yours, still with your arms looped, and led you over to a couch. He sat very close to you and still did not remove himself from your grasp even as you were sitting. You felt so comfortable and warm next to him, you could not help but close your eyes and let your head fall on his shoulder.

(-)

James retreated upstairs with Peter. Peter had wanted a quick and undisturbed nap, and James returned downstairs a few moments later with his practice Quidditch robes on. Sirius had collapsed on an armchair the second he crawled into the room, and showed no indication of life as he fell into a deep sleep. James gave Remus an encouraging smile and two thumbs up, but did not dare to speak in case you weren’t asleep. Remus rolled his eyes, but was truly quite happy with the position he had found himself in.

Your arms were looped, hands intertwined, and your head rested delicately on his shoulder. He leaned his head against yours, breathing in the smell of your shampoo.

He had wanted to stay there forever.

(-)

When they all awoke, James was out of his Quidditch robes and in a thick wool sweater. He was polishing his broom with what looked like a new polishing set, perched on the armrest of a couch across from you and Remus. You had woken up when Sirius did, his loud yawns and stretches filling the room. When you lifted your head, you bumped into Remus’s head, and he woke up. Your cheek felt sore from pressing into his strong shoulder, and you looked down at you hands to see them still interlocked. You were sweaty and tired, but Remus looked down at you sleepily with complete happiness.

“Happy Christmas, you lazy bones,” James tutted like a mother would, putting down his broom and standing.

“Happy Christmas,” Remus said, smiling widely.

You sat up, removing yourself from Remus. He untangled your arms, removing his hand from yours. You felt sad at the absence, looking down at your lonely hand. Remus was looking too, and when you met his eyes he bit his bottom lip. With some slight hesitation, he wrapped his arm around your shoulder and pulled you in for a side hug. You lingered, and he made no move to pull away, so you stayed there, tucked under his arm.

“I never looked at my presents this morning,” Sirius said, standing from his chair and motioning for James to follow him.

“Neither did I,” you said to Remus only, hearing the other two retreating upstairs.

“Want me to walk you up to your dorm?” he offered, adjusting his body so he could see your face.

You uncurled from him, nodding excitedly.

You stood from the couch, walking over to the stairs. You waited for Remus, watching as he slowly stood and stretched. You leaned against the door frame, supporting yourself on your hands behind you. Remus came over to you, walking slowly with a sleepy and dazed look on his face.

“Happy Christmas,” he repeated, only to you this time.

“Happy Christmas,” you said, smiling at him as he leaned against the door frame opposite of you.

It was a narrow space, and there were only a few inches between you two, but neither of you made any movement. You wanted to go upstairs and see what your family had sent, what Lily had given you, what all your friends had given you, but you couldn’t tear yourself from the handsome boy in front of you.

Your eyes danced all over his face, admiring his curly and unkempt hair that fell into his dark and kind eyes, his sharp jaw that you wanted to run your fingers across, his soft lips.

You were both so entrance in each other, that neither of you had noticed the greenery sprouting from the door frame above you. It was mistletoe, sprouting from the wooden door frame between you and Remus. Remus noticed, his eyes darting up at it. He looked down at you, seeing you had not noticed it, and chuckled.

This seemed to snap you out of it, and you stood upright, coming closer to Remus. You looked up at the growing plant, eyes widening when you saw the red berry forming before your eyes.

“Mistletoe?” Remus chuckled, entertained as he reached up and brushed it delicately with his slender fingers.

“Is it?” you managed to say, watching his hand.

“It is,” he said, retracting his hand and bringing it to rest on your cheek.

He gently cupped your face, pulling you close to him until your chests met and neither of your backs were touching the door frame. You closed the distance, meeting his lips with urgency and desperation. You didn’t care if James thought Remus ought to kiss you, you wanted nothing more than to kiss Remus. And Remus wanted nothing more than to kiss you. His other hand came to your waist, pulling you flush against him as his hand on your cheek moved to the side of your neck. You reached up and slid your hands from his shoulders to this neck and into his hair, feeling the soft curls between your fingers as you had wanted to for so long.

Remus pulled you impossibly close to him, as if he wanted nothing to come between you, until his force was moving you to lean against the door frame. The feeling of the wood was unexpected, and you gasped into Remus’s mouth when you felt it. Remus took this as an invitation to deepen the kiss, and you allowed him, sighing softly as his tongue explored your mouth.

“Mistletoe?!”

You and Remus broke apart, his hands still on you even though your bodies were no longer touching. You both looked up the stairs, seeing James, Sirius, and Peter looking down at you.

Sirius had the most mischievous smirk you had ever seen, sure that it would make Lily’s skin crawl if she saw it. James seemed so content that you’d think he’d just been kissed and Peter anxiously twirled his fingers as he averted your eyes, obviously feeling bad for interrupting.

“Mistletoe,” Remus said, his voice husk and his lips wet. It took a lot of will power to not sigh at the sight of him, or pull him in by his collar and kiss him again. Instead, you looked up at the boys like a deer caught in headlights.

“You owe me ten galleons,” James said to Sirius, causing Sirius to groan.

“How do you know he kissed them?!” Sirius complained, digging in his robe pockets for the money.

“He didn’t, I kissed him,” you said, looking up at Remus and licking your lips nervously.

“Hah! Hand it over, James,” Sirius gloated, removing his hand from his pocket and holding it out to James.

James groaned, still a smile on his lips, and handed Sirius the money.

“You didn’t think I’d kiss them first?” Remus asked Sirius, pulling you into his chest in a loving and protective way.

“Sorry, mate,” Sirius said with no remorse in his voice, climbing down the stairs and pushing past you and Remus.

James and Peter followed him, all fiddling with some new gift they had gotten. You looked up at Remus, deciding your Christmas presents could wait until Boxing Day, and pulled him out of the door way. You fell onto the couch, Remus following you, and you fell easily into conversation with the boys. Remus wrapped an arm around you, pulling you into his chest.

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diaryofabeautyfiend · 3 years

Text

This is two parts because I got carried away. I wrote this on my phone and proof read as much as I could.

Warnings: cheating, male masturbation, m/f sex, minor spoilers for “Defending Jacob”.

——————————————————————————————

Plain Gold Ring

“Plain gold ring on his finger he wore

It was where everyone could see

He belonged to someone, but not me

On his hand was a plain gold ring”

-Nina Simone

When the Barbers moved to your building every old bitty in the place was buzzing with excitement. You had loosely followed Jacob Barber’s case as it played out on the evening news. The whole thing was bizarrely too neat and tidy for your liking. You tried to stay out of idle gossip as much as possible. But, when you heard Andy Barber was interviewing for a senior position at your firm, you had questions.

Andy was brought in to interview for a position that you were also interested in. You requested a meeting with your boss and you went in guns blazing. Your poor boss was not ready for all the excitement.

“Am I still being considered for junior partner?”

“Y/n, calm down.” When he saw you winding yourself up, he popped an antacid an a few ibuprofen.

“Calm down? Calm down he says. I’ve been with this firm since I clerked for you in Law school, Stan. I’m the best fit for this role and you know it.”

“I know you are, kid. I’ve been out voted.”

It’s common knowledge that the partners don’t want too many women gunning for their jobs. They already have one token female partner. They didn’t feel the need to add another. You were infuriated. You stomped back to your office and slammed the door.

All of the work you put in. All of the late nights. You don’t have time to even date. And all for what? You had to calm down now because you were starting to cry out of sheer frustration. You took a deep breath and started going through your to do list. With a relatively light schedule you decided to leave for the day. You mumbled something to your assistant about a doctors appointment and headed for the elevator.

You saw some of the senior partners headed your way shaking hands with Andy. You pressed the elevator button furiously trying to avoid them. Could you make it down seventeen flights of stairs in your stilettos? The elevator dinged and you jumped on just as Robert called your name.

As soon as you put your car in gear, your assistant called. You sent her to voicemail. She called again. Declined. Finally she texted call me back ASAP. Emergency. Fuck.

“Caitlan I said I had an appointment. What’s the emergency?”

“Sorry. Mr. Cramer insisted I call. He’s standing by my desk” she whispered. “They want you to have lunch with them today. Maybe it’s about the job.”

“Did you see guy shaking hands with them? That’s the new junior partner. They are asking me to lunch to reject me. Fuck! Where?” You rested your head against the steering wheel.

“Commander’s at 1:00.”

“Fine.” you groaned.

You went home to freshen up and send out your updated resume. You made sure to include “Willing to relocate” at the end to broaden your prospects. You had a friend in Chicago who worked for a very high profile firm. They were always looking for new blood. You shot her a text to let her know you were looking then emailed your resume. The prospect of starting over completely made you nauseous. You would have to go through the ranks and probably waist another five years to get exactly where you were right now.

When you arrived at the restaurant the maître d brought you to the table where Stan, several other senior partners and Andy were waiting. Andy stood up to pull out your chair.

“Gentleman. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Sit down, Y/N. We wanted to introduce you to Andrew Barber.”

“Andy. Please call me Andy. It’s very nice to meet you, Y/N. These guys haven’t stopped talking about you all morning.”

“All good things I hope.” The men laughed and ordered a round of martinis. Good thing you ate a big lunch at home. No one likes a sloppy drunk girl.

“Yes. Well, Y/N, as you may not know Andy has accepted the junior partner position. We would love if you brought him up to speed on anything you’re working on and show him the ropes.”

You were seething. “Of course Mr. Cramer. Happy to.”

“Oh. Good. Let’s order huh? I’m starving.”

You were silent for the rest of lunch ordering two more martinis very dry and a salad. Dressing on the side of course. The men spoke loudly and never even tried to include you in the conversation. You excused yourself to use the restroom. Andy, ever the gentleman, stood up at the same time.

You didn’t go back. Not that it would have mattered. You ordered an Uber and checked your email. You didn’t notice Andy at the valet stand.

“I’m headed back to the office. Need a ride?” he called to you.

“No. I’m good. Thanks though.”

“Are you sure? I don’t mind.” He watched you pace back and forth reading a message almost out loud.

You didn’t look up from your phone. “Shit.” You scowled looking at the screen. You dialed Caitlan’s extension. “Caitlan, Sloan Treadaway’s deposition was moved to today. I need it pushed to Monday.”

“Oh. I’m sorry. I figured you would be coming back so I told them it was ok to push it up. I can call them back.”

“No. Don’t bother. I’m on my way back.”

“Looks like you can use a ride after all.” Andy was grinning from ear to ear.

He held the door and rushed around to the other side. You pulled a small bag out of your purse. You freshened your hair, popped some breath mints, lotioned and spritzed away the smell of booze. Andy thought this must be commonplace for you. It’s not easy trying to run with the guys. He could walk into this deposition piss drunk and most people wouldn’t care. You had to be perfect. He always hated that aspect of working in a big firm like this.

“Sorry. I’ll pay to have your car cleaned.” It smelled like you now. Expensive perfume and minty breath. Sweet but not sickly so. He inhaled letting his nostrils flair breathing you in. “Don’t want your wife to be pissed.”

“Lori? Don’t worry about her. She’ll understand.”

“How is she doing with her job search?”

“Doing ok. Thanks for asking. She’s interviewed with a few places.”

“She worked for a non profit right?” When he looked at you quizzically, you quickly explained yourself. “I hear things. Anyway. I know the director of a non profit organization that might be a great fit for her. I’ll pass along her information.”

“Thank you, Y/N. I really appreciate it. Stan told me you were the front runner for this position. I know how hard it is for women in this industry. I want to say how sorry I am…”

“Let me stop you there. First of all, don’t be sorry. You’re high profile and a damn good litigator. They would be stupid not to offer you the moon. You’re over qualified for this job. You didn’t come here gunning for me. I’ll be fine. Besides, a few of these old bags have one foot in the grave. It won’t be long for me.”

Andy smiled at you but still kind of felt like shit at the way the firm treated you. When you pulled into the garage you offered a quick thanks and rushed into the building to prepare.

Andy stayed behind for a bit. He spent a few precious moments breathing in your scent, letting it linger and wash over him. He hoped his clothes would smell a little like you. Stan said you were a “fire cracker”. Andy always hated that analogy. He knew by the way the group of men talked about you that he would like you. Your quick banter in the car confirmed it. Throughout the rest of the day you would invade his thoughts. He and Lori were still married but their relationship was long over. You had excited him more in a couple of hours than she had in years. When he got home he didn’t eat dinner or speak to anyone. He went right to his room where he replayed your exchange over and over. The ghost of your perfume lingered on his shirt. Both of your scents mixed together gave him a raging hard on. He kept your shirt over his face while he fisted his cock.

——————————————————————

The next morning you decided to face the day with a fresher attitude. Sometime yesterday you heard from your friend. She was thrilled that you reached out to her. She has been trying to get you out there for a while. Knowing that you had a solid backup plan was giving your hair volume and clearing your skin.

You thought you were early but Andy was already in your office waiting for you.

“Morning, Mr. Barber.” God he loved how you said that.

He scoffed, “Andy. Please. I brought you a coffee. I hope it’s ok. I got your order from Caitlan. I thought we’d order in lunch today. We have a lot of ground to cover. You should probably let your family know you’ll be missing dinner.”

“I don’t think my dead ficus will worry too much.” Your tone was dry.

“I apologize for the assumption.”

“Not necessary. Though my mother and my therapist would both be pleased to know that I look like someone who could have a family.”

You were funny. You seemed to say whatever thought popped into your head. You had one hell of a poker face though. He didn’t know if you were trying to be funny or if this was just you. When you didn’t look up from your computer screen he didn’t laugh.

As the day wore on you warmed up to him a little. You filled him in on the three big cases you were working on. You were actually going to trial on a very important case soon. He insisted you rehearse your opening statement a hundred times.

During the third run through Andy’s phone was blowing up. He finally turned it off and told you to keep going. He watched you pace around the room and coached you on your stance. “Stand with authority not arrogance.” He chided. He showed you himself then, asked if he could touch your shoulders. “Round them out like this. Good. Back straight. See?” he pointed to your reflection in the window, “It’s not menacing or arrogant. But you look like you’re in charge. You look perfect.” Hell. Was he flirting with you? By the time you looked at the clock it was 9:30.

“Fuck is that the time?” he said with a boisterous yawn.

“Shit. We should pick this up tomorrow.”

“Let’s go get a drink. I’m buying.”

You quirked your eyebrow, “I’m sure your wife and kiddo are dying to see you.”

He stacked some folders neatly on your desk and looked up at you through his lashes, “I’ll be sure to tell my therapist that I look like a guy who has a happy marriage and a good relationship with his kid.”

Your cheeks heated. The way he was looking at you made you sad but it also warmed your insides. “I’m sorry.” you mumbled.

“Don’t worry about it. We said we would stay together until Jacob went away to school. He pretends to ignore the fact that we have separate bedrooms. We put on happy faces everyday. We’re a typical American family.”

You laughed at his admission. His whole story was so fucked up. You wanted to know everything about him. “You know, I think I will let you buy me a drink.”

“Good girl.” he said in a low voice that went strait to your core. The whole way to the car you repeated a mantra in your head reminding you not to get involved with a married man. It didn’t matter how unhappy they were. But you wanted him. Every time he touched you, your insides would quake.

The bar was packed with regulars from the DA’s office and other firms. You introduced Andy around. The guy was a legitimate pro. He was so smooth working the room. The whole time he kept finding small ways to touch you. The brush of his fingers on your arm his breath against your ear when he asked if wanted another drink. Your heart nearly stopped. You stuck with him for a while until your feet couldn’t stand anymore. Every time he caught your eye from across the room he winked at you.

For the first time in a long time Andy was enjoying himself. Your friends were fun and not at all stuffy like he thought this crowd would be. You were adorable. Your laugh was cute. The way you brushed against him on purpose was cute. You were openly flirting with him the more you drank. He had a massive crush on you. What grown man has a crush these days. He thought maybe if he fucked you and got it out of his system he’d get over it.

Your friend Liz sat down at your table trying to talk to you for a solid minute before you noticed. “Sorry. I was distracted. What were you saying?” She threw her head back laughing at you.

“I said you two would make a gorgeous couple.”

“Stop. He’s married.”

“Happily?”

“That doesn’t matter. Married is married.”

“So that’s a no. He’s been eye fucking you all night. Shoot your shot, darling. We get so few in this life.” The light hit his wedding ring just right making you feel horrible for even entertaining the thought. Do not get involved. You kept chanting it in your head over and over until Andy slid in the booth next to you. He leaned over so he could talk over the din of the crowd.

“Hey, you. Wanna get out of here?”

“You don’t need to bring me home, Andy. I can catch an Uber.” That was such a ridiculous statement since you lived in the same building.

“That’s not what I asked. I said do you wanna get out of here?” His eyes were fixed on your mouth. A salacious grin splayed across his lips just knowing you’d give in.

“Andy. I….” You stuttered over your words. Your brain stopped working when you felt his warm breath on the shell of your ear. “Let’s get out of here.” Your breath hitched in your chest when he touched the small of your back. He payed his tab and lead you out of the bar.

You held hands in the car. His thumb rhythmically traced patterns on your knuckles. Every touch sent bolts of arousal to your aching cunt. It felt electric. You were ready to crawl into his lap by the time you made it into the garage. He parked in his spot and followed behind you to the elevator. You lived two floors below him. You glanced back at Lori’s sensible suv next to his car and felt embarrassed. He caught you looking and stopped you in your tracks. He took your chin in between his thumb and index finger forcing you to look at him.

“I understand if you don’t want to invite me in. I’m asking a lot of you. But I really like you, Y/N. You are funny and intimidatingly smart. And, fuck me, you are fucking stunning. I can go to work tomorrow like nothing happened. Don’t worry about Lori. Worry about what this means working together. Can you handle this?”

Your brain was no longer working and deferred to your pussy for any and all further decisions. You had not had even mediocre sex in six months. You just knew Andy was going to blow your mind. All day you have been working together so well. You challenged each other and he encouraged you when you faltered. Would this change the dynamic at work? Absolutely. Could you handle it? You’re damn right you could.

“I can handle it.”

“Good girl.” You all but sprinted to the elevator. He wouldn’t touch you until you actually got inside of your apartment and closed the door. When you did, he pushed against you and covered your lips with his.

You tasted the golden flavor of beer on his tongue as it probed your mouth. He unbuttoned your blouse and pushed it over your shoulders letting it hit the floor. He kissed his way down the column of your neck to the swell of your breasts. You panted underneath him raking your nails through his hair.

“God you smell incredible. At any point if you don’t want this….”

“Andy, shut up and fuck me.” He growled low in his throat before he picked you up and carried you to your bedroom. You could see how hard he was through his impeccably tailored slacks. You unzipped his fly and took the whole throbbing appendage in your mouth.

“Fuck, baby yes.” he hissed. You relaxed your throat muscles and swallowed him deeper. “You look so pretty with my cock in your mouth.” He moaned your name over and over soaking your panties. “Stop, honey. Let me see that pretty pussy.”

He eased you down onto the bed and undressed you painfully slow. It had been so long since he was intimate with someone, he wanted to take his time. He started with your feet removing your heels and massaging your insteps. His hands ran up the length of your legs to your skirt. He took off your panties first letting the skirt material pool around your waist. “So wet for me. So beautiful.” He slipped two fingers in between your folds hitting everywhere but your clit. He built up a tortuous rhythm that had you begging for relief. He smiled down at you watching completely fall apart. When he dipped his fingers inside of you, you were done. Your orgasm spilled out in one glorious cry. Before you could catch your breath he pulled off your skirt and unhooked your bra. His cock was weeping at the sight of you. A large hand held the back of your neck holding your head in place so you could look at him. Your eyes locked as he buried himself inside of you. There were no more words as he moved inside of you. Only breathless moans and sighs would escape your lips. He increased his pace and your orgasm started building again.

“Fuck. Andy, I’m….fuck!”

“I’m with you, honey. Come with me.” His words were your undoing. You latched your whole body onto him. He held you tight whispering praises in your ear. He kissed you slow and deep easing you back down to Earth. “You ok?”

“I think so.” You both laughed at the sight of yourselves. Sweat glistening off of your skin, lips puffy and kiss swollen. He eased off of you and rubbed your thighs to relax you. You thought he would get dressed and rush out but he crawled under the covers instead.

“Can I stay for a while?” Big arms pulled you down to his chest. He stroked your back softly to help you drift off to sleep.

“I’d like it if you did.” He pressed a kiss onto the top of your head and let his eyes flutter closed.

When dawn found you a few hours later, you were still tangled with each other. You jolted awake panicking because Andy was still in your bed. “Andy, wake up. You stayed all night.”

“I know. What time is it?”

“6:45.”

“Then we have time. Go back to sleep.”

“But Lori…”

“I told you not to worry about her. Get back on this pillow and let me hold you. Please.” The poor guy was so touch starved you guessed. Andy Barber was not a man who did well being single. He loved being in love. He longed for a connection. For passion. He knew those things would sometimes fizzle out of a marriage. But, with you, he couldn’t see that. Your fire matched his fire and Lori was the wet blanket that always snuffed him out.

He supposed that wasn’t really fair. Two people were in their marriage. He worked long hours and spent very little time doing anything but being an ADA and being a dad. He didn’t give the same dedication to being Lori’s partner. The stress of this past year pushed them further apart. He felt obligated to be with her. It was his idea to stay together for Jacob’s sake. He regretted pushing for it.

He pulled you close to his body and wrapped an arm around your waist. He nuzzled your hair and fell back to sleep. You did too.

#andy barber #andy barber x y/n #andy barber smut #defending jacob

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yandere-society · 4 years

Text

Moonlight

Pairing: Taehyung x Female Reader

Synopsis: Taehyung was a man of many things: handsome, young, rich, the reigning lord of the Kim manor. He was a man adored, a man respected. But beneath the studly exterior, he held a dark, demonic secret that floated towards the surface once every full moon. It was this secret that would unknowingly entangle you in his claws until there was no way out.

Word Count: 7.2k

Warnings: Yandere themes, Possessive Tae, Werewolves, Kidnapping mention, Sexual assault, Murder, Death, also it’s unedited cause I hate myself

Headline: Beast Of The Night Strikes Again! 2 Dead, Several Injured

Admin: @roses-ruby

The town suffers through another full moon of terror as the one described as the ‘dog beast’ struck again late last night. Lawmen are baffled at the carnage, describing the victims torn limbs and missing hearts as an act- “most definitely inhumane.” Townsfolk have stated that they heard the creature growl and moan for hours on end until it seemingly disappeared near the Kim manor. As for the owner of the manor, Kim Taehyung - an attractive bachelor who inherited his great grandfather’s land - refused to comment and dismissed the claims of such a being as “ludicrous and delusional.” Whatsoever it may be, the fact of the matter is that there is someone or something raging with bloodlust every time the moon shines its brightest and it might just be out for your heart next.

“It is truly incredible how some of the most credible news sources have begun to sound so half-witted these days… ‘attractive bachelor?’ Seems like you’re up for auction in the middle of this tragic incident…”

“It is a small town with unusually large tales…they’ll do anything to sell their trashy story…” He runs his fingers through his long black locks, a small huff of irritation leaving his lips.

“A story that will keep children up past midnight I’m sure…” The older gentleman places today’s paper back on the table and walks up to where the younger stood, matching his distant stare out the window. “The flowers were exceptionally beautiful in this year’s bloom. Such a shame they’ll be dead soon.”

It was a passive observation, one he didn’t have to respond to; however, it was his nature to always hold a firm stance on even the slightest of interactions. He hums in agreement, gazing out towards the colorfully green garden that his study overlooked. But rather than admiring the beauty of the large field, his eyes were instead hooked on a small figure bustling about the grounds in a long black dress.

“Master,” A calm voice interrupted him from his trance, “Shall I adjust your schedule in case you were to head into town today?”

His long-time butler, Seung, bowed quietly in his direction.

“No need.” He replies mindlessly.

“Now, now,” His uncle next him chuckled, the wrinkles around his eyes deepening, “It would do you good to show your handsome bust among the public. Your presence as Lord might provide some comfort…”

As if he should be the one comforting weeping mothers and terrified children.

He was about to decline the smiling face of this man who bore him nothing but animosity, but he was interrupted by his uncle’s careless gaze suddenly modifying into something additionally sinister.

“Or is it that you’re too tired for such a simple task? You look as if you have not slept in ages. Are you doing alright, perhaps?”

Other than the shiver that ran down Taehyung’s spine at his foxiness, he was unfazed by the weighty question. Usually, his feigned concern would make him chuckle, if he wasn’t so emotionally exhausted from last night’s events.

“I’m fine.” He turns to Seung without missing a beat, “Uncle is right. Get the carriage ready, I will be heading into town today.”

“Yes, Master.” Seung bows, but before he could quietly leave the room, Taehyung calls for him again. “And get my Uncle’s carriage ready for departure as well. I am sure at his age he would love nothing more than to be resting at home this very moment.”

There was a small confrontational silence between the senior and him after his loaded remark. But it vanished the very next second when his Uncle began to chuckle loudly, as if there was nothing but mirth between the two of them.

“You are right on the mark, young lad. As sharp as ever I see.” He spins around, walking back to the table he once sat at “I shall be out of your hair soon.”

Taehyung watches him as he picks up the paper he had been scrutinizing before he commences his departure from the chamber.

“Are you perhaps interested in the dog beast?”

“Why, not at all,” He responds calmly, turning to the younger with the same somber expression as before, “I just need some entertainment for the road. Surely, you don’t mind?”

He did not. For now, he desired his uncle’s departure the most. It was not as if he could see his own forthcoming demise stained in the ink of that paper.

Autumn’s cool breeze surrounds your body as you tend to the large grounds of the Kim manor, trimming off uneven stems from a massive rose bush.

“___,” A frantic voice suddenly calls your name, capturing your attention as your gaze falls down onto a petite figure dressed in a similar maid’s uniform running towards you, “___! Did you hear?”

“About?”

“Today’s paper!” Seulgi spoke out of breath, like it was the most obvious thing, “Those men…aren’t they the same lads who-”

“SSHHH!” You hiss, blocking her loudmouth with your palm. Her whines against your hand were similar to that of an adolescent as you whirled your head around the garden, making sure no one was near your vicinity. “I told you not to speak a word of that!”

Seulgi successfully tugs you off of her, “I know! But is it not bizarre? That beast attacked those men!”

“There is no beast!” You growled, “Everyone in town was aware that Wan and his men were good-for-nothing hooligans! They probably wandered into the forest late at night, drunk and belligerent, and attracted a bear!”

“Hmm, perhaps…” Seulgi pouts, “But what about the articles? All those farmers who lost their cattle the same exact way… with their hearts missin-”

“I’m sure those are nothing but carnivorous rodents.” You huff in irritation, picking up the sheers to return to your work. The girl besides you threw a tantrum using her feet, and you wonder when exactly it was that you befriended such a child. “Are you even done with your station or will I have to do that for you again after the Housekeeper is done scolding you?”

This manages to scare her off, and you watch her retreating figure in slight humor before turning back to the rosebush. As you snap another set of leaves, you manage to take a glance at the window of the lord’s study, apprehensively watching his back disappear further into his room.

All you’ve wanted from this manor and its lords was a chance to toil quietly – in peace. Your simple servant status does not offend you, rather it provides you security in relations with the world. You were not interested in meddling with anyone’s affair, especially with those who lived in powerful and dangerous realities. So, it does not matter.

What you saw last night, near the clearing behind the manor does not matter. It had nothing to do with you, and you were planning on keeping it that way.

Lord Kim was annoyed.

Really though, when was he not? As the carriage decelerates into the gates of his estate, his exhaustion only multiplies. Faking a straight face and an empty gaze took its toll on him, even if he had been playing theater his whole life. It was hard enough to keep up with this perfect charade as the lord of the manor, but it had just gotten worse with time…and with the incidents.

He was reluctant to head into town, leer over dismembered bodies and chat with the commissioner, but did so anyway thanks to his uncle’s instigation. It wasn’t like he had much of a choice - any sign of weakness would invite his extended family to sink their teeth and claws into him, wringing him dry within a matter of minutes. His father died too early and Taehyung did not bear a successor yet, so whoever would be the first to either exhaust, kill or seduce him would eventually take his place as lord. After being unfortunate enough to witness countless amounts of cruelty from them since age eight, he knew he had to keep his farce strong.

Common folk would think he was protecting his blessed birthright. But in a deep, hidden corner of his mind, the reality loomed that neither this life nor this manor was blessed in the slightest.

“We’re home, my lord.” His thoughts are interrupted as the carriage stops, the door opening to reveal a flawlessly still Seung waiting for him to disembark.

As he exited his carriage, his shoulders drooping and head spinning, his eyes managed to fall on you in the distance. You stood far away, underneath the stone canopy of the servant’s quarters, next to that bumbling friend of yours with your head bowed as the housekeeper shouted herself silly at the both you. It seems that you have once again found trouble thanks to the petite nitwit by your side.

Yet still, even with your gaze downcast, he could sense the poise in your stance. An aura of composure and self-confidence that has never left your being no matter where you stood, or who stood over you. At first, he just happened to relate to you and the notion of keeping together a tough act. But over time, he came to realize that you weren’t acting at all – that you, a mere servant, were as perfectly assured as you seemed.

It made him envious.

“Master?” Seung pulled him back to reality.

He turned away, scuffing his expensive shoes amongst the gravel to head into the direction of his manor. Yet still, after the small sight of you, he couldn’t help but smile to himself for the first time that night.

“Dinner is served.”

A tray was lifted to reveal a large pot of thick, saucy white soup. He had wanted something light ever since the previous night, and the chef had delivered quite nicely. Taehyung sits patiently, waiting to be served as the maidservants walk into the room with the housekeeper. His eyes immediately land on you out if habit, and he wonders if you were to tend to him tonight. But to his surprise, it’s your friend who comes up to the table to oblige him his dinner instead. She takes a ladle and dips it into the soup – just a minute, she forgot to pick up his soup bowl?

Realizing she forgot the bowl; she looks startled for a bit before she hovers a hand underneath the ladle and walks closer to his direction. He has to try really hard not to burst out into a fit of laughter as he witnesses you shake in fear at her antics. Seems like he was not the only one distracted because the very next second your friend trips over her own foot on the way to his bowl and loses her grip on the soup-filled ladle, which flies towards him.

And in an instant, his whole head was wet and runny with his dinner. It was quiet for the first minute – which appeared to have stretched out into hours for the servants – until many different voices began shouting at once.

“Y-young Master! T-Towel- I shall fetch a towel!”

“MY LORD!”

“My lord! I-I-I apologize I-!”

He glanced at you out of the corner of his eye. Your face was stiff in horror as you watched the creamy soup drip off his hair. Seung ran back into the room with a towel in his arm as the housekeeper bellowed at your friend.

Before Seung could wipe his hair, Taehyung held his wrist and took the towel into his own hands. Then he stood up, surprising the whole room, even the shrieking housekeeper, shut. He lightly wiped the edges of his bangs for a minute in silence, feeling the wet soup drool into his shirt before he turned towards your friend.

“Well, what a mess…” He stated absentmindedly, watching the girl shrink under his gaze until she became as small as a pebble. She seemed to be trying her utter best not to cry.

“Lord…” A soft, but confident voice interrupted the dead silence of the room. You stepped up next to your friend, your head down as you cleared your throat, “It…It is my fault actually…”

Your friend turns to you in shock. Everyone in the room was now glancing at you; the servants with petrified eyes and Taehyung with amused ones.

“Explain yourself.”

“Th-that…I spoke about the dog beast who was in today’s paper to miss Kang and…and I seem to have frightened her which is why she’s been a bit distracted…b-but it is my fault, so I deserve the punishment.”

“N-no!” You friend suddenly cries in a strained voice and you elbow her to keep shut. She opens and closes her mouth like a fish, before complying to your implication with her eyes squeezed shut tight. The servants all held their breath, waiting for the lord’s next move. They all seem to flinch when he sighs,

“…I see…” Taehyung holds in a chuckle, “You’re right miss ___, this indeed seems to be your fault…”

Seulgi quietly whines in her throat and you wish she could for once read your mind and jam her loud trap.

“…Well then,” Taehyung’s deep voice captures your full attention, “Meet me in my room an hour before midnight. I shall decide on your punishment by then.”

No one said anything further, but they all seemed to be thinking of the exact same thing. Even Seung appeared disturbed. But…it just couldn’t be… The lord has never even taken an interest in women much less bed with one. You, too astonished to remember your place, straightened your posture and stared at him straight in the eye for the very first time. There wasn’t any hint of jest or error, which left you further baffled at the Lord’s request.

No, perhaps it was just you who misunderstood.

“Y-yes Lord.” You manage to spit out.

At your approval the lord smiles, which startles you out of your insolence. You return to your humble position as the Lord begins to walk away from the room.

“Seung, prepare my bath.” Taehyung calls out in glee.

“…Yes, master…”

You sigh, standing in front of the thick wooden door of your Lord’s master chamber.

“Well, there goes the goal of keeping from trouble…” You whisper to yourself in defeat. And thanks to that gigantic fool Seulgi, you were late to your own punishment trial. She would not stop crying and apologizing, even though you told her it was now your problem, so she has nothing to be sorry about.

Still, the main dilemma for you in this moment was not her, but your current circumstances. Why were you called out to the Lord’s chamber an hour before midnight? The sensitive time frame would provide anyone the wrong impression, not just you. If he really were to ask you to…bed with him…what then?

You quickly shake your head no. It was not healthy for you to have such thoughts about your Lord. Since adolescence, you had been a reasonable girl who was guided by logic. There was no rationality in this idea and you’re sure Lord Kim had a good excuse for calling you out so late – an excuse that has nothing to do with...whatever you were just thinking. After pulling yourself together with a deep breath, you knock on the wood three times.

“Come in.” You immediately hear, which allows you to nervously turn the handle and push open the door.

There stood Lord Kim, by the end of the bed, in his sleepwear. His hair was a mess of slight, drooping curls, possibly the aftermath of his bath, and his stare was a lot more lax than normal. You gulped quietly under his gaze, stepping into the room and letting the door shut behind you.

“You’re late, miss ___.” His voice was deep, but soft. It felt as if he was trying to jester you.

“I-I apologize, my Lord. I was held up by the housekeeper…”

It was a lie and you did feel guilty, but it would also be immensely satisfying to witness that old witch being chided.

“My, my, it seems like she is always after you and that friend of yours,” You could hear what sounded like mischief in his tone, “Which reminds me, she came to speak to me.”

“The housekeeper?”

“No, your friend. She told me you lied for her.”

That was the last straw. You were going to kill that idiot.

“I…I…S…” What were you to say now? Should you apologize for your dishonesty?

“I think it’s commendable.” You were interrupted from your thoughts by your Lord’s words. When you meet his eyes, you see him smiling gently in your direction. “You tried to protect your friend. It takes a good heart for that.”

“Thank you, sire…” You weren’t sure how to adequately respond - if he really was complimenting you. Your uncertainty stemmed from your upbringing; rather than a trait to compensate, behaving and caring for your younger siblings was regarded as your duty. It was also why maid work came so easily to you. And Seulgi, with her childish nature yet endearing personality, reminded you of those you tended to back home, so you considered looking after her a mere responsibility.

“I do like that nature of yours.” He proceeds casually, making you blush. “But I still have to punish you for your dishonesty.”

You nod your head, eyes falling to the floor. Even without gaping at him, you were aware of how strong his gaze was. It was only natural to get disciplined as a servant, but for it to come from Lord Kim himself made you fearful.

“Miss ___, sleep with me.”

Your head whirls up to meet his stare, shock painting your face.

“W-”

“Please don’t misunderstand me.” He sighs, running a hand through his hair, “Although you’re quite beautiful, I only desire your lap.”

…

What?

“I-” Your Lord stutters, facing away from you and crossing arms in embarrassment, “I just…these days I have been having some trouble sleeping. Many peers have remarked on my dark circles and laxing attitude. This won’t do! As the Lord of the Kim manor, I have to appear fully rested and in the best condition at all times or else.”

He turns back to your direction,

“W…when I was a young lad…I would sleep on my mother’s lap. It was the most comforting of places to me and sleep was never a cause for concern back then. Which is why…I wanted to seek that same comfort once more…so that I may be able to rest heartedly and prepare myself to face the world of politics tomorrow. I just…I was wondering if I could borrow your lap for a few nights?”

It was quiet after his explanation. Your mind gradually processing all the information in his tale. He appeared to be immensely nervous, as if waiting for you to decline. You had to hide your amusement.

“I am ready for my punishment, my Lord.”

The young Lord smiles, which has your heart racing. Surely, he was a beautiful man.

“Thank you. Please sit on the bed, near my headboard.” He orders bashfully.

You swung another sheet over the clothing line.

Days had passed since your initial ‘punishment,’ and today would mark the first whole month of you lending your lap to your Lord. Your nightly time with the Lord had become an occurrence you cherished. There was so much you managed to learn about the man who rested on you – like how he scrunches his nose when he encounters a nightmare or how he moans only when he is in his deepest of slumbers. He was different than how you originally imagined; his cold exterior was nothing but a farce. In reality, he was so childlike and so innocent.

So different from other men.

Yes, that’s right, he was nothing like Wan. Remembering that scoundrel had you shivering in your legs from disgust. You usually didn’t have the most pleasant encounters with the men in town, but Wan had been a special case. Although you did not wish to think ill of the dead, there was nothing ever good about that man, and frankly you’re not very upset that he’s gone.

You remember the day much too clearly; it was a week before he would meet his demise. The housekeeper had sent you and Seulgi into town on a shopping errand – she wanted you to pick up meat and vegetables for dinner. It wouldn’t be the first time you went into town for a chore, but it would certainly be the most unpleasant.

As you and Seulgi stepped out of the farmer’s store carrying a load of groceries in a paper bag you held with both arms, you spotted Wan and his friends walking towards you from the opposite direction. They were cackling loudly, drunk in the middle of the day and out of their minds. You paid them no attention, ready to head back to the manor but your unwitty friend stared straight at them until Wan eventually made eye contact with her.

“Well, well, well,” He slurred in your direction, catching your gaze, “If it isn’t the whores of Kim manor!”

Because of his brash nature, everyone’s regard fell on the two of you. You tried to look unfazed by his disgusting behavior, taking Seulgi by the hand and leading her around the men. But Wan interjected your path as his friends laughed on.

“We need to get back. Leave us alone.” You stated calmly

“Why, we won’t keep you for long,” He grinned, and you recoiled from the alcohol in his breath, “Besides, they won’t miss you- them rich folk. Isn’t that right, fellas?”

His friends began to shout and woo, enclosing in on you almost completely, and you could feel Seulgi shaking behind you.

“We need…to get back.” You say once again, cursing at yourself when your voice cracks. Wan throws his head back and laughs as hard as he could while the townsfolk just observe the show. Anger begins to well up alongside the fear and you purse your lips, picking up your feet and tugging Seulgi along.

It didn’t matter if you had to bulldoze through him, you were going to get back to Kim manor no matter what. So you step close, ready to collide into him before he suddenly sidesteps. Thinking he was distracted; you weren’t prepared for his swift movement and you certainly weren’t prepared to feel a hard thwack on your backside. A breath of surprise leaves your throat and the feeling in your arms disappear, which lets the paper bag fall out of your grasp, spilling its contents along the street. You stare at the ground, paralyzed by shock as Seulgi meekly cries out your name.

“Wan, you mad lad!” Someone from his group yells, clasping their hand into his in jest while they all express their amusement at your humiliation. The group aggressively howls, making perverse remarks before eventually continuing down the road, fully disregarding your presence. They left, without any consequences. As if they didn’t just horribly disgrace you.

“___...” Seulgi steps up to your side, crying her eyes out in worry. If this was another time you would console her – scold her for being a crybaby – but at the moment you could think of nothing. You had been a maidservant for almost a decade now and even then, you had never been treated so awfully. What’s worse is that they all saw…they all saw and said nothing.

Not wanting to waste a minute further, you fall to your knees and start gathering the vegetables that fell about. Seulgi calls your name again but you focus on your task. You have to stay composed, you have to stay composed – you repeat it to yourself like mantra. But that sensation of emptiness returns, and you freeze. Before you knew it, you were trembling on the floor with tears streaming down your face and everyone still watched on.

“___.” Seulgi wrapped herself around you tightly. For a moment your fortitude was shattered as you cried in her arms on that dirty street.

Wan was most definitely scum, you conclude with a huff as you finish straightening the laundered bedsheet. But still, you halt, dying the way he did…it’s something you wouldn’t wish on anyone. Your mind wanders back to that paper, torn limbs and missing hearts. Could it possibly be related to what you saw that night on the previous full moon? With a frown, you stare up at the sky, watching the whiffs of white clouds swirl through the blue fabric.

“___!” You hear the familiar shouts of your name and turn to see Seulgi running towards you. “___, there you are!”

“What is it this time?” You sigh as she encloses in on you

“___, is it true that you are consummating with the Lord?”

Dropping the sheet out of your hands, you spin towards the loudmouthed idiot, “W-w-w-where did you hear that?”

“The other maidservants were whispering on it,” She replies with an innocent grin, “Is he as good as the rumors say?”

“A-a-a-as the w-what? What rumors- what- consummate- a-are you out of your mind?” You were blushing from head to toe.

Seulgi looks dejected at your response, “So it isn’t true?”

“Of course not!”

“Ohh,” She groans sullenly, “But I guess it would be impossible for a lord to take interest in maidservants like us.”

Your bashfulness vanishes in an instant. She was correct, there is absolutely no reason for you to find yourself special. Lord Kim had made it clear that he has no interest in you, he just requires a lap and is too proud to ask someone close. This was originally a punishment for you and nothing more – you shouldn’t become too attached.

“___?” Seulgi’s voice was low, “Are you alright? You seem down…”

“…I’m fine.” You mutter, composing yourself, “But more importantly…why are you here to ask me about baseless gossip? Are you done with your station? Remember you have to use the right tools- just scrubbing vigorously doesn’t work-”

“Oh my god- yes, yes, yes!” She responds by childishly covering her ears, “I have to use the coil sponge not the foam one, I get it!”

You begin to scold her as she laughs, prancing around the grass without a care. But soon the humor dies down and it was time to return to work. Before she leaves for her station, she makes a passive comment.

“Tonight’s another full moon. In the night of Samhain.” There was something dim about her tone as she gazes up towards the sky. You join her, wondering if she somehow had the same bad premonition as you did.

While you were chatting with your friend, Taehyung was having tea with a man he’d rather throw into a river.

“What brings you here?”

“My, do you sound cold.” His uncle chuckles, taking another sip of his tea, “Am I not allowed to visit my nephew out of fondness?”

“Well, after twenty-so years, consider me surprised.” Taehyung deadpans, which only further humors the elder.

“Perhaps I do have a motive.” He grins for a moment before all signs of amusement vanish from his expression. “I could not help but toil my mind over that paper from before. The townsfolk swore they heard the dog beast growl late into the night before fading behind Kim manor.”

“I thought we agreed the paper was nothing more than gossip fodder.”

“And perhaps that’s all it is.” His uncle’s smile was innocent but held such contempt. “However, as a gentleman who resides in the city, I find myself quite inclined by the mysteries of small towns such as this.”

“What nonsense,” Taehyung scoffs, “Are you saying you wish to investigate this supernatural rubbish the townsfolks gripe about?

“Indeed! The dog beast is nothing but rubbish!” The elder’s laughter was hearty, “But then, there is the question of who killed those men?”

The room was silent, drowning in the animosity the two men felt for one another. Neither one spoke – his Uncle because he had nothing more to say and Taehyung because he felt his throat clogging. He wanted to decline, desperate to splurge words of refusal, but then the fact that he had something to hide becomes too apparent.

“Surely, you won’t mind me staying? Just for one night?”

“Stay as you wish, uncle.”

You were already situated on his bed when your Lord swung the door open.

The sound made you jump, and you immediately rose to your feet to show respect. He began walking towards you in a fast, heavy pace with his feet striking the wood. His face had you unnerved – anger in his frown as well as what you could only describe as dismay in his eyes. Before you could open your mouth to react, you were taken into his arms in a sudden and swift motion.

It left your mind blank.

He squeezed himself onto you, his chest colliding with yours as his scent surrounded your senses. Your arms were hovering his back while your fingers curled into themselves, unsure of your position at the moment. Lord Kim hugged you tight, as if he was afraid.

“M-my Lo-”

“Tonight.” He interjected, muffling into neck as he laid his head on your shoulder, “Do not let me go tonight, whatever you do. Hold onto me as tight as you possibly can, do you hear me? Do not let me wander, I beg you.”

His tone broke your heart. He sounded so frightened – so desperate and you had no clue on how to help him. The Lord has always been the strength of this household. No one had ever witnessed him so distressed, not even at the previous Lord’s funeral. Hesitantly, you placed your fingers against his vertebrate and sat back on the mattress, guiding him gently down with you.

“I won’t let you go, my Lord.” You didn’t know what else to say.

He placed his head on your lap, arms still clinging onto you like a child. His mind seemed to be in the middle of a warzone against himself. The memory of a young man sitting in front of his father’s casket, immobile and silent as a rock, was still so vivid to you. You had only been at Kim Manor for a few months back then, and you remember being disturbed by his attitude – wondering if he had any feelings at all. But after learning about how often his extended family plotted against him, to the point of kidnapping him as an eight-year-old, you began to view that tearless boy with pity.

Watching him tremble in your lap has you reaching out to him. Your digits tread into his soft hair and you slowly move them about to calm his tremors. He seems to respond; his quivers coming to a slight halt at your touch.

You don’t know for how long you rubbed his head, listening to him breath.

You don’t know when you fell asleep.

His whole body was aching as he walked towards the grass, trying to ease the sharp pain in his head.

He had been taught that the best place to alter was out in an open, murky environment. Somewhere you could feel the air on your skin as the patches of hair slit through your pores like needles through fabric. Yet still, somewhere impenetrable through the naked eye. There was an area like so behind Kim manor – a clearing that was connected to a large acre of uninhabited woods. And among those acres laid several swamps and bogs, which formed a thick layer of fog around the grounds of the manor – most prominent on the night of the full moon.

It was the perfect place for him, who had been poisoned with this modification.

With his mind as cloudy as the fog, he thinks back to the first time he witnessed his father alter. He was far too young, a month away from ten, when he was brought out to this clearing and visually counseled on his dreadful future. More than anything he wanted to look away, he did not wish to see his beloved father become this monster, but Seung held his hand tight and told him to hold witness for his very own sake. And he witnessed – witnessed his father thrash about as if he wanted to claw his own brains out and he cried.

He cried along with his father. But there was never any other option for him than to tolerate the dread from his place as heir to Kim manor.

It was always painful, every moment his heart pumped blood into his body, he moaned in agony. While the night raged on, he noticed his panting grew deeper by the second – tone sinking to a gruff growl which rips through his chest. His eyes and sense of smell grew keener, large nails grotesquely rip through his skin and his teeth began to enlarge. The image of the moonlight basking on his skin was the only thing offering him refuge.

If he had a choice, he would have chosen to stay inside with the warm you, stare enchantedly at your resting face like the many instants he’s done before. But his changes weren’t just physical. In this state he was bigger, louder, hairier, teethier – more aggressive. His desire for blood was intense but ever since he met you, so was this raw lust. As a rational man with a sense of morals, this perverse craving ashamed him, yet the beast inside did not care for his customs. It wanted to possess you, every ounce of you, thoroughly. To mate with you in a way that wasn’t meant for humans. Being around you in this condition would break the mental leash he chains this deviant with.

Although every time he alters, he feels it loosening. There was something wrong with him – his father and grandfather were able to restrain the beast from rampaging throughout town. But he, on the other hand, had been consuming the town as his sole hunting grounds for some months now. Which is why the “dog beast,” once a mere legend mentioned every decade, was printed in previous months paper.

It is as if the creature wishes to mock him and the slipping control.

Drenched in sweat and agony, he knew the transformation was almost complete when he suddenly heard a small noise. He immediately spun around and met the petrified eyes of his uncle.

Neither of the men spoke – both gaping at each other with pure, unfiltered fear. The chill of the night establishes its presence in the worst moment possible. Taehyung was afraid for reasons too many, none he could not lucidly list. He recalls what occurred the last time the beast was enraged by someone and he desperately wishes not to hurt anyone ever again in this form.

Opposite from him stood his uncle, wondering just one thought out of an infinite. How does a normal man, one untouched by the knowledge of this being, react in this situation?

A normal man would run. A normal man would cower in fear. A normal man would beg for his life. But he, the rightful heir to the manor, declined to let this young bastard trample him in such a way. It wasn’t that his uncle was a man without fear. And it wasn’t that he held great courage either, but rather, the very oxygen that burned through him was fueled purely by his stubbornness. He has spent the majority of his life trying to crush first his brother and now his nephew, so when this chance has presented itself so deliciously, he refuses to let it slip through his fingers.

“Y…” His voice was hoarse, throat achingly dry, “What are you?”

Taehyung stands there quietly, unresponsive to the question. Although he was the larger one, he felt so scared and so small. No one had ever spoken to him in this form which is why he was unsure of what to do. He had been a fool, he thought if he could sleep in your arms and you held him tight, he would be able to stop himself from altering tonight.

But now he understood, there was nothing that could.

“You killed those men.” His uncle continues, all on his own. As if he’s suddenly reached enlightenment.

“You do not…understand…” Taehyung shakes his head like a child about to be punished. He didn’t mean to kill anyone. He’s never hurt someone in his whole life. That night, on the previous full moon, it all occurred without any of his own authority.

Taehyung was a despicable man. Wan had hurt you, and he saw it. But rather than step in and intervene – rather than protect you from that scum – he instead just stood by and watched it transpire. No matter how many times he thinks back to it, no matter how often he racks his brain for an answer, he still does not understand why he did nothing. Perhaps he was paralyzed from his own traumas and forced himself to retain his composure – however the beast did not care for his pathetic reasons. It taunted him the whole week leading up to the full moon. Hurt him with insults he knew he merited.

“You’re weak.” It growled, “Weak and puny. I shall protect her myself.”

And then, for the very first time, Taehyung took the life of another human being without any cognizance. What’s worse is that he enjoyed it. That thought alone petrifies him.

“No, I do not understand you. And I do not wish to.”

“Please…” Taehyung begged as he held out his deformed hand to plead with the elder. Did this man think Taehyung desired this life? Did he think he desired this hundred year old curse - originating from a place long before his time - that was forced upon him and on any man who dared to reign over Kim manor. Perhaps despicable, but Taehyung was still softhearted. The reason why he tried so hard to keep his title as Lord was so that no one else would further suffer this abomination, even if it concerned his bastard uncle.

And it’s also the reason he made peace with dying alone, without a bride and without children. He was meant to stand alone. That is...until he met you.

“How dare you. How dare you grovel to me, you servant of the devil.” The disgust and venom in his uncle’s tone made him recoil.

“No-” It was only a matter of time before the beast consumed him whole and he was certain, like before, it would not spare any mercy. The adversity is something Taehyung direly yearns not to repeat.

“I shall bring the priest and the commissioner. I shall tell them what you did. You shall be brought to justice for what you did to those men. You shall suffer in hell when they burn you at the stake!”

“Please- uncle- please listen TO ME-” He clasped his claws against his mouth when his voice became utterly inhumane. The beast was crawling out of his throat and his sanity was slipping. No longer was he able to see what was in front of him and once again he began to fade, like he did all those times before.

“Run!”

Taehyung with the last of his conscious tried his hardest to warn the man and take a dash for the woods but it was far too late.

The last thing he heard was his uncle’s shrill scream, and then all silence for him.

You woke up to a thump.

Or at least you were certain that was what you heard as you sit up on the bed. Your vision was groggy, mind still half asleep as you look in the direction of the sound’s origin. For a minute it was soundless, and then there was another thump. You weren’t sure what it was, but you stood up nonetheless, slowly walking towards the door. Still unaware of your surroundings, you stop in front of the wood, distracted by your own dizziness.

In the tranquility of the room, you caught a noise so faint, you thought perhaps you were still in your nightmare from before. It was immensely faint, but you heard it. The rapid breathing behind the door. Unhurdled by emotions such as caution and reasoning for once, you swung the door open in confusion. And as soon as you did, your own awareness came back to you at full force.

A clothless man stood before you, covered from head to toe in blood and gore. Your breath was stuck in your throat, eyes widening into saucers once you saw the length of his fangs. It took you a full minute realize that it was Lord Kim.

“W…what…” You step back in horror. Perhaps you were still dreaming.

The fear had snuck up around your waist and grabbed you by the throat, leaving you without the ability to move. He gazed at you with eyes that were a bright yellow, yet darker than any man’s you have ever looked into. Your orbs travel down his body as you absorb in his abnormal height, his ripping muscles, his long fingernails and…and his hand.

There was a heart. In his hand, he gripped a fleshy and large organ and you knew it was a heart.

Missing hearts.

“Nooo…please.” You quiver, crying without him ever speaking a word. All signs of alarm were raised in your mind and you don’t even remember what it was for that you came here. Only Seulgi’s words about the dog beast reigned in your ear. The world was spinning as your Lord…as he began to walk towards you. Your life started to flash by your eyes, and you closed them shut tight, so you would no longer have to witness this terror.

“Shhh.” You heard a deep growl before you felt cold and abnormally large fingers on your face. A gasp escapes your throat as he caresses your cheek.

The next thing you knew, you were floating. Your eyes flew open and you saw yourself being carried by him. There was no moment for you to react, as you were subsequently placed upright onto the bed. No longer restrained by his arms, you shifted about in a frenzy.

“Ah…uh…”

“You are mine.” He states as if it was a fact.

Then he comes over you – wrapping his enormous, dirtied limbs around you as you squeak. He lays his head in your lap and you feel the tears leave your eyes as he yet again resembles your Lord. What you had thought of as just a hallucination from the fog was actually reality. That night, on the previous full moon, you woke up and strolled the grounds to clear your head of Wan. It was then that you saw the most horrid of things – you saw a giant dog shrink into a small human who resembled the Lord.

And you had told yourself lies. Told yourself it wasn’t true and told yourself to forget. But all logic was failing you now as a creature from hell winds down on your very own body. You muffle your cries and fear – too afraid to awaken the beast.

Taehyung laid peacefully in your arms; his mind detached from every other thing that did not concern you. The heart he held in his hand had stopped beating a long time ago, but he could still feel it slipping through his fingers. He is not sure, even as a beast, as to why he takes the hearts of victims. Perhaps it has something to do with how it’s his heart that hurts more than anything else each time he alters.

Well, it did not matter now, he thinks as his perception starts to drift. Nothing mattered at the moment – not the heart, nor his uncle’s body, not even your reaction. For this moment, more than anything, he just wants to rest.

To sleep, in your lap, under this cold, beautiful moonlight.

________

A/N: Okay so I really hate this I apologize. I had intended for it to be longer but well :) October has officially been 2020′s busiest month for me...but I hope you enjoy this garbage lmk what you thought!

#bts #kim taehyung #yandere bts #yandere taehyung #bts fluff #bts angst #taehyung fluff #taehyung angst #bts x reader #taehyung x reader

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myketheartista · 3 years

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The Masquerade: How They Came To Be

This is a small headcanon type of thing that I thought of the morning after the stream, so I’m obviously obsessed with these two so much to the point where I made lore for how Sir Billiam and his butler met. To make things easier on myself, I just called the butler Ranboo since I didn’t want to mess too much with canon by giving him a new name.

***Warnings: Light violence, mentions of killing/death, manipulation (from the egg, but just thought I’d include it just in case)***

**Please remember that this is not canon. I took some liberties and assumed a few things based on prior knowledge. Oh, and don’t take things out of context. This is NOT shipping, and I’m putting this here because I know some people will question the way I write them interacting. I don’t condone any shipping with Ranboo or Techno, and that goes for any and all characters they play.

Please enjoy! And leave your thoughts if you’d like :)

Billiam finds the egg. Builds the mansion around it to keep it safe and hidden because it seems like something bizarre enough that could earn him a good sum of money. Sell pieces of it, get rich, live a long, good life swimming in wealth.

He wants to see what it does too, but the more time he spends with it, the more corrupts his mind becomes. Soft whispers that scratch at the walls of his head, telling him to give-- give himself, give others, just give to the egg. And in the beginning stages, it isn’t so bad. He just sees the egg as something valuable. Value slowly transitions into a sort of obsession. He must protect it, feed it, take care of it so no one else will hurt it. If he helps the egg, it’ll help him.

So when he finds a young boy wandering through the endless sea of trees surrounding his estate, he grows a bit defensive. It’s just some random kid, an inch or two shorter than Billiam with messy chocolate brown hair and a dazed look in his eyes (Oh, and he’s definitely lower than a commoner, just look at the mess he is!). Tattered clothes, no shoes, patches of dirt dusting his face and hands; he’s an awful sight. But a peculiar one at best with the notable pointed ears and extra set of canines fitted snug next to the original pair. Whatever he is, Billiam knows that he isn’t a threat, and he can recognize that much through the fog clouding his brain telling him to get rid of this unwelcomed stranger. More than anything, he pities him, and a frown crosses his lips when he tries to get some answers out of the kid, but he’s met with a confused tilt of the head and awkward silence. Well, by observing his overall condition, Billiam concludes that he has no where to go.

So...he takes him in. Not because he cares! He really shouldn’t and doesn’t care for someone of such low status, but seeing Ranboo scarf down a whole plate of whatever Billiam could find along with some cake and a few glasses of water makes him feel a bit uneasy...about- about how much food he can eat, yes, of course. If he’s going to be staying here, he can’t go around eating everything they have. He’ll have to set some ground rules for this new guest. Such as throwing out those old clothes and giving him one of his own dress shirts and a well-made vest he never ended up wearing. Ranboo asks him for help with his tie much too often, and that’s something that should aggravate him, (inability to do anything on his own, how annoying) but he finds himself walking Ranboo through the process each time he’s called for. All the while, as he helps this kid learn the ropes and shows him around, those harsh whispers demand he stop. Get rid of him. He stares at Ranboo, the boy who can’t even speak the language of this planet, can’t remember where he came from, hates eye contact and taking showers, doesn’t even know what he is, and he wonders how the egg could even tell him to kill someone as innocent as him.

Billiam decides he’ll be his butler. Ranboo doesn’t protest since he doesn’t even know what a butler is, but he agrees without complaint. Some conversation over dinner that turned into a fake contract that neither of them signed, but Billiam made the deal that Ranboo can stay if he does his part which was simply obeying him when he asked for the butler. This...quickly got out of hand. Whenever there’s a party and a handful of guests crowd through the front doors, Billiam makes it known that he has a butler, and a very bad one at that. Calls him in that sing-song voice and requests he fetch their new arrivals some wine only to degrade him and claim he’s going a week without food afterwards. Ranboo really doesn’t mind, partially because he can’t even refuse or talk back due to the limitations of his knowledge of the unfamiliar language of this place, but he’s also become a bit dedicated to serving Billiam. The man practically saved his life and gave him everything he could want. When he is allowed to speak, he’s always asking how many words since that’ll guide him towards forming a more accurate sentence with letters and syllables he’s not used to. More often than not, he sticks to humming his responses to make it easier on himself. Even then, there’s not much to worry about. He’s bad with social interaction and the guests rarely pay attention to him, so he often hides in the corner as they all participate in their games and conversations regarding the economy. The more he excludes himself, the more he misses the frequent disappearances of the guests. He never questions Billiam where they went, why they left so early into the evening, why the mansion has terrible lighting problems, (they should get that fixed, it’s quite troublesome) he just enjoys the eventual peace and quiet that fills their home once everyone is gone.

The parties increase throughout the months that Ranboo resides there. It’s exhausting being a butler when all he’s required to do is follow people’s orders-- how does Billiam do it? He’s the one who hosts them, greets everyone, plans the festivities and everything. He should ask him about that sometime. Instead of pestering him, he finds himself watching from the stairs as Billiam catches up with yet another group of friends. Hm...why doesn’t he just invite the same people over? Being rich must make you a lot of friends. But these people seem snobby and annoying. Ranboo doesn’t like them very much. He prefers to stay the way he is, and if that means he remains a “commoner”, then so be it. Billiam, on the other hand, doesn’t mind stepping into a new character every time he hosts one of these masquerades. The weird airy sound to his voice makes him appear friendlier, more trustworthy, but it always makes Ranboo put a fist to his mouth to stifle his laughter. It’s utterly ridiculous and almost childish, but it’s entertaining nonetheless.

He enjoys the soft conversations they share in their far too big of a home when things are back to normal (And when did he start calling it their home?). They usually pass the time by Ranboo asking questions and Billiam responding to the best of his ability which makes him seem smarter than he probably is. But for someone who can’t seem to remember where they came from or how to communicate, Ranboo is grateful for anything Billiam can give him.

So one night, when he thinks they’ve grown close enough to where Ranboo can consider them friends, he wanders the mansion to find Billiam-- wants to ask him something, but he’s nowhere to be found. It’s been months since he’s lived here, and he thinks he knows every nook and cranny of the mansion but…the longer he stares at that duplicate of a spider painting Billiam apparently commissioned someone to make despite the same painting hanging just a few feet over, he starts to feel an itch in the back of his mind. And when he finds the courage to move it aside, finds a secret entrance to a room he’s never seen before, he’s honestly baffled. The atmosphere of the room makes him feel off, and that itch starts to grow, manifests into a voice trying to peel through his thoughts and gain control. It makes him feel...uncomfortable…wrong. And when he sees Billiam standing at the end of the room, back facing him while he stares at a large red mass with vines trailing off of it, up the walls and across the floor tangling around Billiam’s feet, that discomfort shifts to something a little colder. He wanders into the room with light feet and a dry mouth, struggling to get his voice to work.

“Sir?”

The word doesn’t feel as foreign as other words do since it’s the one thing he’s gotten the hang of saying. He sees the visible tension build in Billiam’s shoulders and watches him turn around slowly to look at him, a chill trickling down his spine when he spots the sword in his hand. He gets no response, just a rather lifeless stare from Billiam. He speaks up again.

“Sir, what are you doing?”

It’s as if he was stuck in some sort of trance cause in an instant, a soft smile breaks out onto Billiam’s face and he gestures at Ranboo.

“What wonderful timing! Come closer, I’d like to show you something.”

Ranboo feels strange, but he pushes down the crippling sensation of dread pooling in his stomach and walks up to settle next to Billiam. He feels the light touch of a hand on his back, tensing up as he stares at the oddly shaped...something before them.

“What is this?”

Billiam looks so giddy when he hears the question.

“It’s the egg.”

And Ranboo breaks away from the “egg” to stare at Billiam.

“Pardon?”

Billiam looks at him, and it’s now that Ranboo notices the glint in his eye, the way his once brown irises swirl with red, and the look he gives him reminds him of the expression he wore when they first met.

Pity.

“My dear butler, it’s the egg! It’s a truly magnificent thing, is it not?”

And Ranboo can only stare awkwardly between the egg and the man who he’s lived with all of his life because what the hell is he going on about?

“I, uh,... I don’t seem to understand.”

Billiam’s expression softens, still holding that little ounce of pity that Ranboo has begun to dislike.

“You’ll understand soon enough. Come.”

And the hand on his back gently pushes him forward, guiding him as they walk, and Ranboo feels his heels involuntarily drag against the stone floor, putting up some resistance. That pool of dread begins to manifest into something else. An icy, prickling puddle of fear. Billiam is putting himself behind him as Ranboo draws closer to the egg, and the whispering only grows louder, clawing at his brain and sending a jolt of pain to his skull as it screams at him. It’s becoming too much, it hurts, but Billiam’s hand seems to latch onto the back of his vest, twisting and pushing him downwards just inches from the egg to where he’s on his knees and his hands are planted on the cold concrete below him. He realizes, as goosebumps trail up his arms and his eyes begin to sting, that he’s never quite felt fear before up until now. He doesn’t like it too much. All he can do is stare at the red in front of him, watch as the little vines underneath his hands sprout up from the cracks of the floor and curl around his fingers. The grip on his vest tightens, and he’s painfully reminded who’s doing this to him.

“Do you hear it?”

He just nods, exhaling shakily and struggling to take in any air as the panic settles inside of his chest.

“It’s loud.” He voice wavers as it comes out weak and afraid, and he hears Billiam hum, pleased with the answer.

“What’s it saying?”

And he can’t respond because he doesn’t know, it’s speaking a language he’s never heard, he can’t translate it. He feels the urge to hurt, to kill, to follow, to obey, feels fingers digging into his brain and pulling him forward as if he understands what it’s saying after all, but it all seems like gibberish to him. He feels nothing but everything at once. The grip on his vest tugs lightly, and he swallows thickly.

“I...I don’t know.”

He can practically feel the disappointment radiating off of Billiam when he gives the answer, and he suddenly regrets saying anything at all. He hears Billiam shift and the grip loosens by just a hair.

“Is he not worthy?” Billiam mutters to himself, but…it sounds like it’s directed to someone. Some thing. Ranboo doesn’t know, but it’s said so quietly and sounds…sad. After a few seconds of silence and Ranboo watching those tiny red vines curiously curl even more around his fingers and onto his hand in an attempt to travel up his wrist, he feels the hand leave his back. A sigh escapes him, and he goes to push himself off of the ground to sit on his knees, but a sharp pain quickly replaces the hand, breaking through the layers of fabric and grazing the skin of his back. A strangled noise crawls out of his throat and he ducks his head, trying to arch his back away from the tip of the sword angled towards him.

“Sir?” He sounds so pathetic, so desperate, he doesn’t want to jump to conclusions but he feels like he’s about to be killed by the man who took him in and that’s certainly not settling well in his stomach. Billiam remains silent and that’s what scares him because silence doesn’t seem like a good thing, especially in a situation such as this. The silence lasts for what seems like minutes, but he hears a frustrated huff come from behind him and the sword disappears from his back right when he thinks it’ll slip through him.

“Stand up.”

Ranboo is quick to obey, ignoring the trembling in his legs and wringing his hands together to calm the light shaking that’s taken over them. He hesitantly turns to look at Billiam who’s staring back at him with those red eyes that seem a bit duller this time around. He wants to back away when Billiam moves towards him, but his feet refuse to move and a hand comes down on his shoulder, gentle and somewhat comforting despite the situation.

“You don’t feel anything?”

It seems like he’s desperate now, looking for an answer that will settle the uncertainty bubbling in the pit of his stomach. Brows furrowed, lips pressed into a thin line, and red eyes beginning to lose their glow. Somewhat back to normal. Ranboo pauses for a long moment, hesitant, terrified, legs shaking and throat closing up at the thought of what Billiam will do if he receives an answer he isn’t particularly fond of.

“...No.”

It takes his entire body to force the word out because even though he was on his knees moments ago, pleading that he’d wake up, that this was just a very intense dream where everything felt too real for his liking, somewhere deep down he believes Billiam won’t be mad and kill him right where he stands. That expression only reassures him because it’s coming from the only person he knows to trust.

Billiam sighs again and looks down, a bit defeated, maybe even confused because what is he to do now? He can’t even go through with sacrificing this kid he’s grown a damn attachment to and that’s a problem. If he isn’t the one to admit it, the egg is there to remind him. His hand slides down Ranboo’s arm, hanging limply by his side as his voice grows quiet.

“Do you trust me?”

And Ranboo doesn’t have anything else to say but the immediate “Yes.” that follows. Billiam looks up at him, a bit surprised but gaze a tad softer than it was before.

“What was your name again?”

Ranboo’s hands wring together some more, and he mindlessly picks at the vines that have embedded themselves into his skin. He goes to speak, but his tongue falls differently against the roof of his mouth and clicks against his teeth in a way that Billiam won’t understand. And even though that ends up being true, Billiam still smiles at him and a trickle of warmth spreads throughout Ranboo’s chest.

“Just do as I say, and you’ll be fine.”

Ranboo can’t find it in him to defy what Billiam says.

So when he gives him the sword and tells him to kill the guests that enter their home, he does so without question. He follows his commands as gentle as they are, and he listens to the garbled whispering brushing the edges of his mind. And if his eyes appear a bit redder when he goes to look in the mirror, he doesn’t bring it up to Billiam. He still picks at those little red vines that have melded into his skin as he watches the larger vines of the egg curl around the bodies he’s dragged to this secret room, hidden away from any curious eyes. And throughout the ruthless killings and Ranboo’s slow descent into madness, Billiam continues to treat him the same way, apologizing later on for the small scar on his back. He simply shrugs the apology off and gives him a smile, dragging…what was his name again? James? The name rings a bell, but he disregards the vague feeling of guilt crawling its way into his chest and continues to drag him away by the legs.

Even when he goes back to get Karl and sees the edges of his body disintegrating into little white speckles of what looks like dust, he doesn’t question it or show Billiam. Delivers his body to the egg regardless of whatever strange deterioration Karl’s body was undergoing. Another party, another meal for the egg. As long as Billiam is happy, so is his loyal butler.

#headcanon machine goes brr #dsmp drabbles #dream smp #tales from the smp #sir billiam #ranbutler #technoblade #ranboo #mcyt #dsmp #dream smp fanfic #fanfic #long post #dream smp fic #tftsmp #AND THERE WE GO #took me a few days to edit it and make it pretty but #i just thought of this the morning after the stream and i just #LOST my mind #i just enjoy soft billiam taking this kid in and making him a butler #them being goofy and having almost a mentor and apprentice typa thing goin on #and i do think ranboo isnt as effected by the egg at first because i like the whole desire thing #ranboo doesnt have any immediate desires since he never knew WHAT to desire but #after ranboo discovers billiam with the egg i think his desire becomes to serve billiam to the best of his ability #so he begins that slow descent into madness as i said above #but yeah! i like the headcanon that ranboo is still part enderman in this period of time but #more human than anything #still six feet like irl ranboo bc billiam is pretty tall for bein piglin and all but #the only traits he really has are extra pointy teeth and pointed ears #his height is barely effected

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missdawnandherdusk · 4 years

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Ravenclaw Extensive Dating a Malfoy Headcanons:

Okay, so other than Ravenclaw and Slytherin I have two series with Draco and the other houses but they don’t always get the little moments so here I am adding them in as well as beginning the remaining houses. (Of course you all know how I feel about sorting but for the sake of Draco Malfoy being happy I’ll set that aside). Yes this has been done before but come on, you’re gonna read it anyway. I’ll do one for each house promise.

So being ravenclaw comes with the name calling “nerd” “four eyes” “freak” “weirdo” ya know real high brow stuff

Mostly it comes from Draco and his Slytherin classmates they feel threatened, you’re smart, go figure

It’s not that you’re “smart” it’s that you want to learn especially if you’re Muggle born because WHAT DO YOU MEAN MAGIC EXISTS

So you get good. Very good. At everything. Which infuriates Draco because you surpass him in Potions

He fails a Transfiguration quiz and McGonagall asks you to help him because you’re probably the only one who won’t punch him a-la-muggle

You protest but it’s no use, and McGonagall said she’ll give you extra credit and house points so, ya know what bring it

He hates it of course, sulking the entire time, muttering about “if my father knew about this” which just makes you smile because good lord he’s ridiculous

Your tutoring sessions give you time with Draco alone and though the first few times you’re terrified and stumble over your words, you get more comfortable with him and he’s less snappy at you

He has an ambition for knowledge, you have the means to give it to him

Soon he’ll start sitting next to you in class because you’re notes make more sense to him than the professor’s do

You come to realize that “oh my stars Draco might be dyslexic like you” you don’t mention it to him because you know he’d just shut down and get aggressive but it explains why he likes your notes so much: he can actually read them

People still make fun of your for your brains and knowledge, but it starts to fade over time and unbeknownst to you, Draco began to threaten anyone who bullied you; which accidentally put you on edge because you’re waiting for the other shoe to drop

You’re reading up on the American Revolution and Wizards involvement in the war when Draco comes to you, grinning

You look up at him, nervous and expecting

He hands you his latest Charms exam

He got full marks

You’re so excited you forget yourself and hug him which leads to blushing and awkward “good job” and “thanks”

One day Harry is being Harry with Draco and “she’s only helping you because she’s getting extra credit and house points” Draco knew that but hearing it from Harry is different

You go straight to McGonagall and tell her you don’t want the credit or points anymore you don’t tell draco this, because well... you don’t know

Your study session become less laughter filled and fun... Draco seems almost too distracted to focus on anything he’s moping

You reach over one time in class and draw a smiley face on his notes while he’s sulking. When he glares at you, you offer a smile and maybe he smiles back

“Are you okay?” You write under the smiley face. “Fine.” He scrawls. “I don’t believe you”

He stares at you like you have two heads. No ones ever pressed past his “I’m fine” charade before

That night you’re studying and he comes to you and starts to talk. It starts with school but it goes on to how his family is doing and the looming war and then he finally admits that he’s not as put together as he looks and that the only friend he has is being “paid” to be with him

“Draco, I stopped getting extra credit months ago,” You finally explain what you did after what Harry said that one day and he’s just dumbfounded so maybe his only friend wasn’t being paid to be with him

You introduce him to Muggle Coffee Monsters for late night studying and occasional all nighters theyre “really really really really good” he’s practically bouncing in his seat. You wonder if he’s ever had caffeine before...

You fail a potions test. Badly. Not that you meant to but you don’t know what happened. You try everything to hold back tears because you’ve never failed before. Draco gets perfect marks and you’re just dying inside and so ashamed because you’re supposed to be smart

Draco finds out even though you try to keep it from him and he chases after you in the hall not before pleading with Snape to have you redo the exam. Snape allows it

“Just leave me alone Draco,” you snap. “Just wait!” He calls. “Leave me alone!” You pull out your wand against him and he just freezes. You realize what you’ve done and run, tears streaming down your face

You don’t talk to him in class because you’re just so confused and ashamed and sorry. He slides a note over. “You’re more than a grade,” is written in his careful script. There’s a smiley face too.

You finally peek over at him and he offers you a smile now you’re really confused

You keep that note and whenever you’re stressed or get a grade less than you wanted you read it until the paper is faded and worn from its wear.

You retake the exam you take after Draco spends the week beforehand making sure you know exactly what you’re doing

“You can do this,” He insists. “No I can’t,” you groan, hopeless. “You’re being ridiculous, come on wise girl, if I can do it so can you.” The nickname started as a taunt but now it was something that only Draco was allowed to call you

You get full marks on your retake and run to find Draco and hug him in the middle of the Great Hall with everyone watching and maybe you kiss him because he believed in you when he leads to awkward blushing and stammering apologies before he pulls you back and really kisses you

There’s a chorus of “finally”s from the surrounding students and a few cheers the whole school shipped you two and it was just frustrated to watch you two pine for another

Draco leads you to a quiet corner of the castle, your exam still in your hand as he really asks you if you want this—to be with him. He knows he’s not the best person and goes on listing why he’s a bad person and yadda yadda yadda

You tell him if you’re more than a grade he’s more than a Slytherin

You start dating

Cue blushing and nervous Draco because “I’ve never had a girlfriend what am I supposed to do? Flowers? Chocolate? Dates? Handholding?” The poor boy is a mess

“Draco, sweetheart. Calm down you’re doing fine,” you laugh one afternoon as he fumbles over asking you to hogsmeade with him. “It’s just me,” he just feels so pressured to be perfect you constantly remind him that he doesn’t have to be, not for you

You still study together but sometimes you just end up cuddling. Except on the nights you have an exam the next day or an essay due “Draco I will hex you to next week if you don’t focus”

You both aren’t sure how to be affectionate towards another. Sure you’ve read books and he’s seen other do it but you two are so bad at just talking without stammering or blushing

So you start writing down how you feel and what you want to do and what you’re comfortable with, and he’ll respond and you two actually get somewhere because you’re communicating it’s not “the norm” but at least you’re communicating

Reading books under trees; late nights in the library; sitting together in class; holding hands in the halls; “wise girl” and “pretty boy”

Your friends are happy to see that your happy and can appreciate Dracos ambition for knowledge and that you both are a bit competitive when it comes to grades

His friends are a bit cold and distant and snappy sometimes, but you don’t mind much, you know it’s not a commonality for Slytherin to date outside of House

Draco spoils you at every turn. “You looked at this book in the shop so I got it signed by the author for you” / “you said you wanted this quill once... so here” / “I will never understand Muggle stores but I picked up more Oreos and Monsters” / “I saw this necklace and it reminded me of you so I bought it” / “you lost your other scarf so I got you this new one. It’s unicorn silk” / “here, this bag is enchanted so you can carry all of the books you want and not have to carry the weight”

You love him a little more with each thing he gets you because they’re the most bizarre things that you didn’t know you wanted but somehow he did. He’s like a bird “I saw this shiny rock and wanted you to have it”

Your parents adore him. They were a bit wary about you dating a Malfoy/Slytherin but he spends one afternoon and dinner with your family and they’re completely smitten and tell him to come back any time especially when they hear about getting you that retake exam

His parents are a bit more reserved towards you. Until Narcissa sees Draco smiling at you as you talk about the history of something he really couldn’t care less about but you’re so excited he can’t help but stare and she sees your wisdom and ambition and wonders if the Sorting Hat made the right call about you

Lucius doesn’t talk down to you not that he talked much at all to you but when you ask him more about his job at the ministry/his peacock/family history/possible Veela descent he’s absolutely taken with you because you remind him of a young Narcissa especially when you snip right back at Draco. Lucius chokes on his drink when he hears you call Draco “pretty boy” and Narcissa grins at him because that’s her nickname for him

When Draco takes the Dark Mark you can bet your Galleons your spending every night looking into Dark Magic and how it works to truly understand what’s happening. You feel less panicked when you know what’s going on good or bad and you help Draco understand too

Which means you’re talking to Snape a bit more. Not to use the magic, but you want to know. You don’t want Draco to feel like he’s alone in all of it. You find spells that make the Mark burn less and affect his thoughts/mood less

When Draco starts to slip behind on grades again during Sixth Year, you go back to tutoring him, with gentle encouraging words and soft promises that he can do it

After the war you encourage him to come back to school and finish and though he’s terrified to face anyone his ambition for knowledge is still there and you’ve become a lot more terrifying since learning dark magic that people back off when they see you

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