#your existence is so important and leaving as much evidence of your life as possible is important no matter WHO you are | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ninapi · 7 months

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Premise: The line between being rescued and captured can be very thin, it all depends on who gets to be in charge for the day. Battling against their own feelings, they were only allowed to feel one emotion each, even when they had feelings for the same person, they were really the same demon after all. Could it be possible they fell for a filthy treacherous human? Nah…

Word count: 4337

┊┊┊✧ ⁺ ⁺╚══ Upper Moon Four╝

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Hantengu wasn’t one of the most popular upper moons.

His squeaky cowardly self annoying everyone in the infinity castle to their cores. Though, that didn’t stop Muzan from entrusting him with a very important mission.

Even if in the end, the goal was there for every moon, Hantengu was personally tasked by the man himself to find the blue spider lily, he had to, there was no other choice.

Even if he wasn’t the strongest moon there was, he had an advantage the others didn’t, and that was the reason he was chosen for the task; he wasn’t one, but seven.

While he didn’t like to use his clones unless it was absolutely necessary, he knew he had the option to do so, and that was an advantage during reckoning missions. He could cover five times more land than if he was on his own.

But that wasn’t the case for this mission.

He had a lead, an important one.

The daughter of the local flower merchant had been talking way too much about this rare flower she’s been cultivating secretly, even behind her father’s back. If that wasn’t enough of a clue, she told someone it was a spiderlily, a beautiful one at that.

This had to be it, he was certain of that.

So going in his tiny form, he climbed into her basket full of flowers while she was attending her regular deliveries down town, allowing him to follow her home undetected.

When the basket was settled down though, a loud scream could be heard coming from the owner of the basket, prompting him to get out from his hiding place.

Her house was on fire, there was no structure left standing at this point, just a burning pile of ashes.

Even if you didn’t notice, he did.

About three members of the demon corps fled up into the mountains, while one of them was hiding something.

This had to be it, they figured it out as well and got rid of the evidence of its existence. But they forgot something very important.

If you did it once, you could do it twice.

And he had you in his possession now.

Though Muzan wouldn’t spare his life if he allows the demon corps to be in possession of said flower, he had to do something to stop them, fast.

Invoking his clones, he took two with him and sent the other two to keep you captive.

“Sekido, Karaku, take the girl to someplace safe, as far away from here as possible without driving attention to yourselves. Aizetsu, Urogi, you come with me, we need to stop those pesky rats before they manage to reach their camp.” even if he was trembling with fear at his own instructions, everyone listened and got to it immediately.

You were still stunned by the entire situation, your sickly mother was bed bound, there was no way she got to leave the house before it fell to the ground. Just thinking of the painful death she might have incurred in made you lose your senses to the outer world.

Noticing this, Sekido hit the back of your head with his staff, Karaku quickly reacting and catching you on the spot.

“Jeeze you could have said something before doing that, man…”

“There’s no time for that. Take her.” without further questioning, he cradled you to his chest, following his counter part deep into the forest.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Day 1: Anger

Sekido decided to take on the first watch.

They didn’t know what you were capable of, you were just a weakling, a human with not even one ability besides cultivating flowers, yet he knew you were valuable, having you escape was not an option.

“Karaku, you stay outside, make sure none of those rats followed us and report to me anything out of place.”

Sekido was bossy, everyone knew about this, but it still irked his own clones. Karaku was quite his opposite and not the best match to keep around an angry Sekido, but he’d do his best to not get in his way and enjoy the pleasures a bright full moon could bring, a little bottle of sake making its way out of his pocket as he chose the best rock to sit on and drink to his heart’s content.

They found an abandoned cottage in the middle of the forest, way far in the south. Nobody should even guess they were there, the obvious path to follow being north, or east even, but definitely not south.

The cottage was fully equipped yet clearly abandoned, so Sekido tied you to a chair while he laid on the bed in front of the fire, keeping an eye open at all times.

You’ve been unconscious for hours, but who knew when you’d wake up and try to escape, he couldn’t just rest.

As if on cue, your eyes started to flutter, the light coming from the fire hurting them. “Where am I…” you looked around, this was not your house, nor any you’ve ever visited, though the fire being so up close reminded you of your mother’s demise and how you no longer had a house. “Father…I must find him!” thrashing around on the chair, you realized you were tied and was until that moment you saw the handsome demon staring at you with disgust.

“Stop moving around woman, you won’t escape with me guarding you.” his anger display startled you, making you recoil into the safety of the chair. “W-where am I…?”

“Ugh, somewhere up a mountain, not sure myself. You won’t be going anywhere though, that much I can tell you.”

“But sir, my father, I must tell him what happened to mother and the house!”

“If you’re talking about the gray-haired man selling flowers downtown, I’m pretty sure he’s also been killed, by the demon corps, mind you, not us. Something to do with the flower you were cultivating secretly.” you couldn’t believe what you were hearing. You knew keeping secrets was a bad idea but why would someone be killed for a rare flower? This made no sense at all.

“The lily? Why would my house be burned to the ground and my family killed for a lonely flower sprout in a small pot, sir?”

“People stronger than you wanted it to themselves, you have no idea what you created.”

“I did nothing sir, the flowers cross pollinated on their own, I just separated it from the rest into a spare pot.” Sekido couldn’t care less for the process itself, he knew his main self wanted you to recreate it but that was honestly not his problem, his mission was to make sure you didn’t escape, that was all.

“Don’t talk to me like I was your friend, human. I’m here just to keep you from escaping not to listen to your rambling self.” his voice was gruff, came out as a low growl, a vein popping out of his forehead.

Until that very moment you hadn’t noticed his horns, this fascinating you more than it should. You should probably be nervous, terrified even, he was definitely not human, but he was beautiful, his eyes so alluring, you just couldn’t stop staring.

“What now?”

“N-nothing…was just looking around.” he could see through your bullshit, your lips were wet and trembling, your cheeks looked like a fall sunset, he’s never seen a reaction like that, all humans he’s met want to kill him right away and he wants to kill them just as much, but you had no blood thirst in the slightest, it was like if you were somewhat enjoying this.

You kept quiet for a while, not wanting to infuriate the demon that kept you captive any further, but your eyes kept wondering to his face, his long hair so shiny, probably super soft, his long fingers, the way one of them tapped on the mattress in annoyance each time he caught you staring, even his choice of clothing was entertaining to you, a fascinating subject, you almost wanted to paint him just to be able to remember his every bit, not like you could though, but one can dream.

Even if Sekido would tell you otherwise, each time he caught you staring, he wasn’t able to keep his own eyes away from your figure. The way your shyness battled the boldest side of you, the way you chewed on your lips, how you wiggled uncontrollably on the chair, how your chest raised and fell with your every breath. You were honestly a lovely prisoner, didn’t try to escape, followed commands, weren’t crying all the time, he wouldn’t mind this sort of missions more often, not like he would admit to any of this out loud of course.

“Sir?”

“Sekido.”

“Uhm?”

“Don’t call me sir, is disgusting. Call me Sekido, that’s my name.” you just nodded, smiling shyly his way.

“Sekido-san, can I have some water?” grumbling, he got up from the cot, pressing a water container he was carrying to your lips. The way you looked up at him through your lashes while wrapping your lips around the lid, entranced him like a spell, one he didn’t know the way out from.

Snapping from the dreamlike experience, he shoved some water roughly down your throat, then slammed the empty container against the floor angrily.

“There, now shut up, you’re not camping here, you’re a hostage. Don’t forget that.” without uttering another word he went out of the cottage enraged.

The sun was still far from coming out but he couldn’t handle it any longer, he’s never been this angry before, his hands were shaking, his entire body sweating, he couldn’t concentrate and all he wanted was to smash something, other than your lips with his own.

He needed to get out of there, quickly.

“Karaku, your turn. I must report my findings.” before getting an actual answer from his counterpart he disappeared into the forest, escaping from the surreal experience he didn’t know how to handle.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Day 2: Pleasure

When Karaku finished his sake, he went inside the cottage just to see you had fallen asleep.

It caused him to chuckle seeing your silly drolly face, the alcohol in his blood making everything a little funnier than it really was.

You couldn’t escape if you were asleep, even if you weren’t, you wouldn’t be able to undo Sekido’s knots, so he would just take a nap, sunrise was coming, the birds were out and about already signalizing time for bed had come.

When you woke up from your slumber your body ached tremendously, just like your head. The images of the traumatic experience of the previous night plus the uncertainty of not knowing if your father was still alive or not adding to your distressed tired body. The skin around your wrists was now raw, your back hurt badly and you really needed to pee.

You noticed the handsome demon from the night before was nowhere to be seen and had now been replaced by another that somewhat resembled him but not quite at the same time.

His face was so relaxed, he was completely asleep, mumbling and giggling on his sleep, his hand constantly scratching his belly; he reminded you of a cat taking a nap on a warm sunny day.

Very different to the one from last night, Sekido.

Though, this one was just as handsome and a bit less scary, at least for now.

“Excuse me sir, I need to relieve myself.” he didn’t even budge turning on his other side so you would face his back instead, prioritizing his nap. The sun was still out, were you out of your mind?

“Sir? Please, I really need to….” your shy mumbles caught his attention, you were wiggling and squeaking like a little mouse, interesting.

“Can’t you just do it there? This bed is too comfortable.”

“Sir please, I couldn’t do such thing…it’ll be just a moment I promise not to escape.” to this he just groaned, you wouldn’t let him sleep if he didn’t do something.

“And what’s in it for me? I let you pee, and what do I get for that?” his suggestive tone made you uncomfortable, you didn’t know how to handle men like this, suddenly Sekido felt like a safer option.

“What could I possibly offer in this condition, sir?”

“Oh, I can think of many things you could do while still being tied up like that, maybe use those pretty lips of yours? It wouldn’t be fair if only you got to relieve yourself….” his smirk was honestly terrifying, peeing there was suddenly a better idea.

“I…um…where’s Sekido-San?” your question threw him off, making him go back to the bed, he wouldn’t waste his time with someone so unwilling.

“The hell would I know. He’s not here that’s all you need to know.” he caught a glimpse of your saddened face, and somehow he couldn’t keep to himself, he needed to see more of that face.

If you wouldn’t indulge in his very entertaining practices he had to do something to take care of his needs.

“Why? You miss him? Old meanie Sekido made a friend?” his teasing tone of voice caused a hurt frown to cast over your features, eyes glossier than before.

“I do, if you may know. He was nicer with me.”

“He was what? Wait wait, are we talking about the same demon? How did his staff look like? Maybe we’re talking about a different clone.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, sir.” your trembling lip and saddened eyes were the responsible of the waves crashing insides his gut right now, he wanted to see your tears, wanted to hear you cry. He didn’t know pleasure could take this form, it had always been either carnal or bloody in the past, it confused him.

“Well he’s not here and never will be again, so deal with it. You won’t be alive for long anyways.” that’s all it took for your resolution to crumble, you were tired, in pain, worried, sad, hungry, tears kept coming out of your eyes like little waterfalls decorating your rosy cheeks, the light reflecting on them and turning your beautiful face into an iridescent work of art.

Karaku didn’t know what came over him but he had the need to feel you, his hand coming to wrap around your face, squishing the soft skin of your cheeks in awe. Who would have thought humans could be this pretty when broken? He’s been missing out, maybe toying with food wasn’t so bad after all.

“Stop it, you’re hurting me!” but the only thing leaving his lips at your pained outburst was a sultry low moan, his face turning in delight at the feeling of your tears going down his hand while you wiggled under him, powerless.

Panic filled your insides when someone walked into the cottage. For a second you thought it was Sekido, even if he was scary he would at least keep his distance and treat you accordingly, your current captor being as terrifying as one could be.

“Karaku, your turn to chase the rats away. We killed two, well Sekido did. We are still missing the one with the flower.” this creature was different from the other two, even if they basically had the same face, this one had wings; things were escalating quickly.

Karaku was still in a post bliss high, he didn’t know he could feel so much by doing so little, he wanted more of this, wanted to take you away and hide you someplace else, his main body would know about it, but not the other clones, he could keep you to himself without his other sides knowing.

Oh boy, all the things he could do to you….

But before he could keep dreaming of wonderful things, a gust of wind made him back off from you and out of the cottage.

“Now Karaku, I won’t face Sekido’s rage again, not because of you.” the sly grin on his face and the way he spoke somehow brought a sense of safety, he didn’t seem as intense, didn’t seem interested.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Day 3: Joy

Honestly Urogi preferred hunting the kids in the forest, it was way more fun, he’d get to fly around, play with them for hours, but now that Sekido was supervising the entire thing he wasn’t allowed to do as he wished, and was very much intrigued by his counterpart’s decision of sending him to guard you instead of Karaku.

Sekido had barked his instructions out, even angrier than usual. He was to come and take Karaku out of the cottage, not let him anywhere near the captive human. His instructions were usually more vague but it was clear to him he didn’t want Karaku around you for some reason. Not like he cared, honestly. All he wanted was someone to play with.

“So you’re the human girl Sekido is protecting. I see.”

“Protecting? Am I not a prisoner?”

“Oh you are, darling. But I was sent out to protect you from Karaku. Seems like I arrived just in time am I right?” he was smiling at you from his seat, his wings flapping behind him in a playful manner, it made your tears dry out on their own, a smile mirroring his own coming your way.

“You did. Thank you.” this caused the winged demon to flush uncomfortably, he isn’t used to others thanking him for anything, it was fun though, a wholesome experience, made his grin grow wider.

“Did he feed you? Sekido told me you hadn’t eaten when he left.” you shook your head, a loud noise coming from your stomach at the mention of food making Urogi burst out laughing.

“Karaku is such an idiot, I caught this fish on my way here.” he held a very much dead sweet water fish by its tail, pulling it out of his pants pocket as if it was the most normal thing to do in the world, making you chuckle. “Will you be cooking it or do you need some help?”

Your sweet laugh was invigorating, felt similar to when he’s roaming the skies freely, he thinks he can understand now the way Sekido and even Karaku was acting around you, you weren’t like the other humans who feared them, you weren’t food, but someone entertaining to have around, even for the grumpiest of them.

“Can you cook? I’ve always wanted a woman cooking for me, but I always end up eating them first.” he chuckled reaching behind your back to untie the intricate knot.

“Thank goodness I taste awfully then.” you laughed together for what felt like hours, the fish turning out great as you cooked it over an improvised bonfire with sticks as your only tools, the stars above you being the only witness of the odd pairing nightly adventure.

This one was fun, you learned his name was Urogi and he even showed you his tongue so you could see the kanji on it closely and stop staring, the act was more intimate than both of you had anticipated though and ended up in a cuddling session of sorts. More like he pulled you over to his chest while you both laid on the grass enjoying the beautiful starry sky above.

It didn’t feel like you were a prisoner anymore, he even made you forget about the awful couple of days you’ve had, though it was an odd feeling and you couldn’t keep it away from your gut.

You could escape if you wanted to, but being with Urogi was better than affronting a painful reality and that’s all what’s left for you back home.

Another night went by, another demon by your side, a tender one this time, but a demon indeed, his wings and horns being a constant reminder that you were in danger and probably wouldn’t live for long.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Day 4: Sorrow

Spending such a long time with demons made you get used to sleeping throughout the day, sunset being your new sunrise.

Urogi was happily humming a silly tune while skinning a small forest animal for breakfast when a very agitated Aizetsu came running in his direction.

“Where’s the human?”

“Ugh, inside why?” he thought he’d be the one in charge of taking care of you, that’s what Sekido had said the day before, why was Aizetsu there now?

“I will take her, you go cause a distraction.”

“Aizetsu what the fuck is going on, use your words properly.” groaning, he got up from the log he was sitting on, discarding your breakfast in annoyance.

“The flower, we found it. It wasn’t blue. She must be eliminated.”

Panic surged through Urogi’s veins, he thought you’d be staying with them for the long run, if Douma had human slaves they could certainly have one, right? They all liked her, he was sure Muzan-sama would allow it, all they had to do was convince Hantengu.

“What? Why? Even if it wasn’t blue, she knows how to make this weird color flowers, she might be able to get it done!” a defensive arm and wing came to block the entrance of the cottage, now afraid of his own counterpart.

A sad long sigh came out of Aizetsu’s lips, gently removing his other half’s arm out of the way, “I’m not trying to kill her, Urogi. I was sent here by Sekido to help her escape.”

Nodding in understanding, he moved out of the way calling for you, “(Y/N) darling, he’s Aizetsu, one of us. He’s going to help you get away safely, ok?” one of his hands cradled your face as if it was made of glass, his eyes roaming over your beautiful features to remember them properly.

“What about you? And Sekido-san? He’s still not back.” it filled his heart with warmth and joy how you didn’t want to leave them, how you worried about them, he was so full of happiness that it hurt.

“I’ll buy you some time, be safe.” he kissed the tip of your nose before flying out of the cottage, Aizetsu carrying your weeping self out of the back and into a darker side of the forest.

He ran silently for a good couple of hours until he felt it was safe enough to put you down, remembering he had cut your breakfast short with his appearance.

Kicking a tree, he caught an apple placing it on your hand as he sat quietly on the opposite direction.

You smiled at his kind selfless action, enjoying the sweet treat while admiring your not so captor anymore and more like savior. “Thank you for helping me, you’re very kind.”

“I’m no such thing, I’m a demon. Just following orders. It was very sad seeing Sekido so desperate. We share the same core after all.”

“Does that mean you all feel the same thing at the same time?” that intrigued you, they all looked the same but were so different from each other.

“Not really. We can only feel an emotion each, that’s kind of our thing.”

“So you’re always sad…?” he just nodded, his fingers playing with the straps of his shoes.

“And Sekido-san is always angry…Urogi-kun happy….how about that Karaku guy? he was…difficult to read….” your declaration made Aizetsu laugh just a tiny bit, it was a refreshing sight, “pleasure….”

“Oh…makes sense….” your face was as red as a tomato, even in the darkness of the dense forest he could see it.

It was immensely sad being able to understand his other parts, he knew just by spending some hours with you why they wanted to protect you, why they wanted you for themselves, but their actual form wanted you dead, unable to fight against his lordship’s wishes.

“Where are we going by the way?” the sun wasn’t too far away from coming and you were still pretty exposed, you knew he need to find shelter soon or he’d be in troubles.

“We aren’t going anywhere, just you. This is where we go in different directions to distract our main body, he thinks you’re with me, so he’ll follow me while you reach a safe place.”

“But the sun is almost up…can’t you come with me…? I was told the sun hurts you....” it clouded his heart to see how you were so concerned for his well-being, gut wrenching, tears were pooling on the side of his eyes, life was just so beautifully sad…

“I’ll be fine. You need to go now, he’s getting closer. Find a safe place to hide and don’t come out of there for a week. Never go back to your old house…or you’ll get yourself killed…”

He got up, dusting his pants as he got ready to leave when he felt your tiny hand clutching at his wrist, “But what about you guys? How do I get to find you…?” your eyes reflected his, sadness had never been a shared feeling among those who surrounded him, they were always angry or scared, this was the first time he felt understood, a stray tear leaving one of his beautiful eyes as he removed your hand gently away from him. “It’s very unlikely we’ll ever see each other again, and that’s for the best; otherwise we’d have to kill you next time.”

Leaving someone behind had never been this hard, being one split into different bodies had never been this heavy.

Once Hantengu absorbed them all back a flood of feelings kept pouring deep into his shaky terrified heart.

He would get killed if his lordship ever finds out that his clones had all fallen in love with a human rat…a lovely…beautiful human rat at that.

Being a demon, had never felt this lonely before.

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yahoodarling · 27 days

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Diluc X GN Guardian Angel Reader (Snipbit)

Diluc X guardian reader whos a little late on the whole ‘helping out’ part. Expect some good ol angst from both parties, enthusiastic reader and Diluc in denial. Reader gives off ‘dad thats been absent for your developing years and shows up in your 20s’ vibe.

Word count: 3k (full fic around 10k)

Warnings: none in this extract but warnings will be added in the final fic

You are holy. You are divine. You are perfection incarnate. You have a duty.

In your hands held the fate of a mortal, someone desperate and in need of your guidance and as an official of Celestia it is both an honor to guide them and an honor bestowed, to be favored and seen by the gods for their struggles and in turn given the gift that is yourself. Admittedly you filled the application for this position a little late but surely your mortal is just fine as they are, you were just… a little preoccupied is all. You smile as you think of the future journey ahead, a new start of healing and recovery for a poor soul. Your… your new mortal…

Mondstadt, you haven't been here for a while but the smell of fresh brew in the air and tugging of the wind in your hair will always welcome you. You set off to find your dear human, your existence tied to his the moment you fulfilled the proper application of acceptance. He's in the city, a short distance away. The night was crisp, winter is around the corner but with your light you shall guide this mortal through and reach the warmth he so desperately needs. You open the door to a tavern, a further welcome of cheer and joy from its patrons and there standing in such joyous potential is your dear! Crimson hair bundled high, gaze focused and frown evident, such ache surely lies within him.

“Greetings Diluc of Mondstadt! Its a pleasure to finally meet you!” you speed walk up to the counter and lay on your finest smile, first impressions are important if you'll be spending the rest of his life together.

He didn't seem pleased with your manner, perhaps you were too much? Either way he sighed, “Right, and what would you like this evening?”

“You~☆”

His frown further lowered and brow crinkled, lines all too familiar with this exchange.

“Order a drink or get out, i am not accepting courting attempts”

“Courtship? Oh no no no! Haha you're mine in a different way! I'm here to give you a surprise alright?” You stood up straight, opened your arms out wide to him, beamed a smile as welcoming as possible and with as much joy and enthusiasm as possible declared,

“Diluc of Mondstadt I am your official Guardian Angel! Tremble no longer! Fret no fear for I as one of Celestians chosen have come to bring you peace in your times of need!”

…

He looked at you with blank tired eyes, not the ones of enlightened hope you were expecting

“Right well i think this joke has played its course. I'll ask you either leave or buy something.”

Huh? That's not what you were expecting. Shouldn't he be enamored? Shouldn't he be fulfilled with hope and respond in such a manner befitting of a life changing event? What's different here? What have you done wrong? You've done what you usually do, introduce yourself, have a good first impression, positive attitude, state your position as an official of Celestia, your previous mortals were overjoyed when you first met but this one is different, he doesn't look happy or relieved he just looks… tired.

Perhaps it's because the situation isn't right. In the past when you met your previous mortals it was in an immediate sense of danger whilst here he's just at his job but would something like that really affect his response? He still needs you after all, why isn't he overjoyed?

“Haha, there is no humor here other than the joyful future we are to embark on! Umm- haha, ah, you aren't in awe or anything right? This is the start to a new life for you! No more suffering or pain, you have I, your benevolent guardian, to guide and support you! Haha- um, you don't look all that greatful haha, i'm not usually this uncomposed it's just you don't seem very grateful and, yeah…” he's really throwing you off here, its like you don't even exist with the way he looks at you.

“Diluc! We need another round of 8 ales for the second floor!”

“Coming up Charles.”

He turned away and got on preparing the drinks. How awkward. You stand unmoving, simply blinking along and watching your mortal- Diluc, right, Master Diluc of Mondstadt, get glasses and fill them. Eventually your legs felt a little odd having to stand, you sit down on an available stool and continue to watch the men prepare drinks.

Is this really the reception you get for being a little late? Nothing serious could have happened in the time so why is everything so different now compared to how it's meant to be.

Your mortal finished his task and returned to his position, when his gaze laid on you he had to sigh but still approached.

“Will you order something now?”

“Oh no, i need not drink.”

“Right then what are you doing here other than to play this prank of yours?”

“Prank? Oh I'm serious about my position, Diluc of Mondstadt i am serviced to guide you.”

“I don't need any ‘guiding’ but if you are indeed of any i can help guide you out the door if we are done here.”

You can't help but laugh, he's being rather silly, of course you don't need help walking out the door but maybe he's confused or doesn't believe that someone could be blessed an angelic guardian.

“Diluc of Mondstadt-”

“‘Master Diluc’ is just fine, thank you.”

Oh? Weird, you could have sworn you read that he introduced himself as ‘Diluc of Mondstadt’, it's his title right?

“Right! So Master Diluc, going forward i will be joining you in you daily-”

“No you will not.” oh how blunt! You cringe a little inside, being treated like this is so odd, your previous mortals were never like this.

“ahaha- um yes i will, its my job. Worry not! I do not have to be physically present like i currently am, i just figured our first introduction would be best if i took a mortal form, you lot find great comfort in those you can identify yourself with and i will respect that! See!” you lift your arms out and display your form as if he hadn't taken a good look of it, you were rather proud of your visage, you always received praise from your fellow guardians when it comes to your human designs. “See, I put quite a bit of effort into this one! Haha but again, I can take on a spiritual form in the times you need to be ‘alone’. Not alone alone, you'll never be alone! But rather when you need other humans to perceive you are alone. I can do my duties both in and out of form! There is more to guidance than just protection after all! I am here as your new voice to lead you down your-”

“Okay that's enough.”

Please! Dear mortal, stop interrupting me! This is important! you shut your eyes and release an unseen tear, this hurts.

Diluc of Mondstadts’ frustration seemed to grow, his appearance did not change, his eyes still narrow and frown rested easily on his cheeks like before but you could easily sense his annoyance. How. HURTFUL!

“I'm done with your ‘guardian of celestia’ nonsense. Please leave my tavern before I have to escort you out, and I will so do not take this statement lightly.”

“Oh you couldn't even if you tried haha, different phases of mass and all that. I know it may seem ‘annoying’ to you for whatever reason but I am here with you for the rest of your life. It may be different from what you are used to but i can swear on my pledge that i will do all i can to accoustum into your life in a way befitting of your personal needs all whilst helping you out your sadness!”

He sighed, pressed his fingers to his brow and took a moment to recompose. Once he was done his frown wasn't so harsh but he still looked tired.

“Right well, I cannot deny you are a Celestial being. I've had all manner of entities in my tavern but none have gone so far as to claim they are supposedly my ‘guardian’. I do not know why you claim this, if you take a look into my life you will see I am well settled and content with my present so I am not indeed of your services. I thank you for your offer but please, take it to someone who may actually need it.”

“ha… haha silly, it's not an offer system, that's not how things work, haha. I am tied to you now. I can't just leave and you do need me! Your submission wouldn't be in the files if you didn't. Celestia knows when a mortal is deserving of their attention and you are! I'd say you are especially special considering you have a vision as well. Well done! Good job! You are already on the path of healing! Now with my help you'll reach a lovely new future.”

“Well I'm rather happy with what I currently have. Enough of this talk, you will confuse my customers.”

“oh? Oh you are worried about confidentiality? Not a worry! Our discussion is filtered, they cannot hear information they are not allowed to. They are likely hearing us chat on about the weather haha.”

“What?” his frown turned into confusion, how cute.

“oh yes! Being your guardian means dealing with personal stuff for you, it wouldn't be right if someone could just listen in to our conversation. There is also the fact that I hold knowledge that should not be heard by mortal ears and luckily the filter works to block it all! No secret spilt or your personal feelings uncovered.”

He looked concerned for a moment before huffing out and directing his attention elsewhere.

“Of course the gods work in ‘mysterious ways’”

“oh, I'm not a god, I'm an angel.”

“I'm not talking about you.”

“ah…”

He simply ignored you after that, tavern goers came and went and when he wasn't attending to them or greeting familiar faces he busied himself checking lists, stock and otherwise keeping things in order. You found your spot on the bar bench and hadn't moved since, only watched, you tried to start up another conversation but he had shut you down rather quickly so you were once again left in silence to sit. It had been a while since you surrounded yourself with mortals and the distinction was clear, they easily made merry and got on with life none the wiser of the world yet still all too eager to enjoy their lives, it was refreshing. Their simple lives were so cute, it was moments like this that made you fall in love with your job all over again, only pity is your current mortal doesn't seem as pleased. Humans are both simple and complex and your dear mortal was complexing to the core. You felt the hurt in him and yet he did not want help, you stated you were of Celestia and he refused you, why? Perhaps you'll need to try out some different methods to get close.

The early night turned late and Diluc finished his tasks leaving the few stragglers for Charles to close up after. He took his coat and disappeared out the back door. It took a moment for you to register he had left, so engrossed in your own thoughts and your surroundings you had actually stopped monitoring your mortal, not that you'd admit to doing that of course. Quickly you got out of your seat and ran after him, a few moments later you were at his side as he trudged on Mondstadts roads.

“soooo~ Mondstadt huh? Pretty place.”

He said nothing

“Last time I was here was ages ago, the winds really have flattened out the hills, it's nice!”

...

“I'm still not so happy about the smell in the air, you'd think that would have cleared out by now.”

“What?” he finally looked at you and it was in total confusion. “What are you going on about?”

“oh haha! I was just thinking aloud, I actually can't say. Hmmm… how could i word this… you've killed people right?”

All you saw was his back as he sped walked forward, eyes ever on his depressed past and not on you, his future.

“Diluc of Mondstadt halt! I did not mean to be offensive, I just wanted to link a connection you would recognise. That smell of death lingers in- it-” haha filters… you need to recompose yourself. “Haha nevermind! Topics of the past are not fun. How about we talk about you? You work at a bar? Oh no i believe i read you owned a winery, very impressive. But it being your fathers is no achievement of your own, we shall create your very own success in our journeys to come!”

“What?” his speed walking stopped, he held his stance firm, much like the form you need to take in the scene of battle, no sign of weakness displayed even in a simple action such as standing. Too bad for him you knew he was just playing, there is no way he could actually hold himself so well when he's so in need. And yet it didn't feel that way and he looked genuinely angry for some reason, you've only been encouraging.

“What right do you have to claim The Dawn Winery is not an achievement of my own?”

“Well simply you're not the one who developed it but that's okay! We have other chances, we can-”

“Not ‘we’, ‘I’ and it has always been ‘I’. I am the one that has gotten myself up to this point and have no need for a ‘we’. I do not need your confirmation nor your support which consists of empty notions and insensitive remarks. Leave before I force you to.” He took out his blade. He actually took out his blade on you, proof he'd follow through with his words.

What have you done wrong? Why is he so confusing? The others weren't this confusing. They were just sad and depressed and you comforted them but this one is just angry, your comfort feeding the flames but he wouldn't have had an application made for him if he wasn't in despair. Just what is this mortal's problem?

“Diluc of-”

“Do not even speak my name if you cannot say it correctly. I understand you may be an inhuman being but that does not exempt you from working by human standards when speaking with one. And typically human standards will not have one creating a false narrative of some guardian angel you are trying to play. Again, leave me be. That is your final warning.”

“But- but I am! It is not a false image, I am an official of Celestia, i am here to help.”

He lowered his blade but still his eyes remained sharp. His claymore could never harm you anyway yet the sting of his look was felt.

“Then tell me, if you truly are sent from Celestia why is it that you come now once my life is content? Why now when your ramblings prove nothing but eer and not in the time when I truly could have needed Celestia's help?”

It hasn't been that long though…

“I cannot answer that. See-”

“If you cannot answer, it means I cannot accept. To say Celestia sent help yet failed means to lose all respect for the gods. It is easier for me to say the gods work in unknown ways, that I faced my hardships without their guidance for a reason then to be told they failed, that I could have had an easier past if not for the incompetence of others whom are meant to be superior to us mortals. It is for that reason that I hold some semblance of respect for them that I cannot accept you as an agent of theirs.”

How? But that's not- what? His words held no meaning, no meaning you could understand anyway, they were only a collection of words that could not fit together. You could not understand them, you could not comprehend them. Is this how mortals feel trying to comprehend the higher plane? But his words are not a superior entity to you, you are superior, you should understand! But his words… What could he mean? Of course he respects Celestia but how does that differ to accepting you are one of theirs? It's not like Celestia could do anything wrong to garner disrespect. Right? No, it's unquestionable. Its- its-

You feel the strange tingle, you should move on from this subject. Right! Yes, move onto a new subject and respect the mortal, feed into their understanding if it means they can progress.

“haha i see i see. Well you do not have to see me as an official of celestia then! You can see me as a helpful spirit that has decided to join you in your adventure!”

“i refuse”

DAMN HUMAN LISTEN

“ahaha ha… um how about as-”

“The only thing I see you as is a malignant being whom pesters me for their own satisfaction.”

Ouch… but you could work with this!

“I see! Yes yes, your dismay gives me joy so in order for me to not ‘pester’ you you must not fall into dismay but rather develop and progress a more healthy future, yes okay! Human! I shall follow you and ‘pester’ you from this point onwards!”

He did a physical rolling of the eyes, rolling his body along as well as he turns himself away from you and continues walking.

“If you do so quietly I might reconsider impaling you on my blade.”

Its progress! Okay, you need to listen to him.

“right right, i shall only speak when absolutely needed oh or to say something to agitate you considering i am a malevolent being. In all honesty though, I find it hard to say disparaging things. I usually work as a supportive and helpful being but I will try to be vexatious.” You hear a faint ‘you don't even have to’ come from him, silly human, you can still hear him even at this distance.

A little bit more of a filler introduction to the fic im working on! If the dialogue feels awkward, good, its meant to be. As always angst shall follow but i find the dynamic rather fun. Let me know your thoughts and opinions of what youd like to see in the future!

#yahooworks #diluc x reader #diluc x gn reader #diluc x male reader #diluc x fem!reader #diluc x female reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin x male reader #genshin x female reader #genshin x gn reader

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chaotic-autumn · 1 year

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feeling absolutely feral about the moment Stede finally realizes he's in love with Ed, get ready for some Thoughts

i've mentioned before how much i love the reading of Stede's character as autistic (and just generally how neurodivergent coded he and ed are) and I think interpreting his character this way makes the payoff of this Epiphany moment even more powerful. (might make a separate post on rom com plot points in ofmd sometime because i am unhinged about that too)

And it's SO important to me that this moment isn't played for laughs, because I am so sick of "neurodivergent-coded people Not Understanding Stuff" being a punchline. It's NOT written like "oh haha you dummy, DUH it was so obvious" (i mean maybe it is a little but in an affectionate way), we have compelling narrative evidence to justify why Stede doesn't understand that he's falling in love (and that Ed loves him back). And that makes it so so beautiful and affecting when he finally gets it.

An important coping mechanism for ppl with social anxiety/who struggle with social interaction is to really analyze the logic and intention behind social customs/things people say/etc. And it can be such a big EUREKA! moment when you do figure out the subtext/purpose of an interaction. Like for me realizing that the goal of small talk isn't to learn how the other person feels about the weather, it's a way of saying "i am acknowledging your personhood by acknowledging that you have feelings about the weather, that this experience, though trivial, is shared" made small talk SO much more bearable for me. (i mean sometimes it's still excruciating but at least now i get that it's not Pointless)

ANYWAY, we see Stede doing this in Episode 5 when he's explaining aristocratic social life to Ed:

"...and dining is pageantry." (sorry for the mediocre screen grabs)

And we see that even though he understands it, he doesn't feel comfortable with it or fit into it naturally, and he empathizes with Ed's struggle to learn the unspoken language of high society. (eg. "That's diabolical"/"It is") In fact Stede's whole storyline in this episode is basically about how much he empathizes with Ed's experience of trying to fit in with the "upper crust", and finally being able to turn the tables on the people who were mean to Ed, the way he couldn't as a child when people were mean to him.

But there's a limit to the helpfulness of this! Because ultimately emotions aren't always rational, and it can be really hard to interpret/accept your own feelings. Especially when you can't refer to an existing experience of times you felt/dealt with similar feelings. And that is frustrating and can be painful, and that pain can lead to avoidance/redirecting that pain.

(personal example but like: I spent so much time as a teenager getting so mad at myself for how IRRATIONAL all my hurt feelings and intrusive thoughts were, and that just contributed to the negative self image spiral. And it felt like this endless and unbearable cycle so I just constantly tried to distract myself with schoolwork/tv/etc)

We see Stede having this reaction a little in Episode 2 with Nigel's "ghost" (ie. a representation/manifestation of his guilt and self-doubt):

And then the elder hits the nail right on the head right here:

Stede feels guilty about Nigel's death, but Mainly (like fundamentally to his character arc in this season) he feels guilty about leaving Mary and his kids. But that guilt hurts too much, he doesn't want to think about that AT ALL, so he thinks about Nigel instead.

Now obviously he hasn't met Ed yet at this point, but this gives us as an audience important insight into how he deals with intense or frightening feelings (by avoiding them). This episode is also a crucial part of establishing the depth of Stede's self-doubt, which contributes to him not seeing that Ed is falling in love with him. I think that is linked to Stede not recognizing his own feelings for Ed, because overall he's just blind to the possibility that love is what is happening on either side of the equation.

And ESPECIALLY in the context of the queer experience it can be even harder to interpret your feelings in the love and relationships department because there's less language to explain it & fewer examples of it to help you conceptualize that "it's love" is even a possibility. Stede has never loved anyone romantically before, so he has no point of reference for what it feels like. Presumably, until becoming a pirate he hasn't seen examples of queer romance, so he has no script for what that looks like to refer to either. Basically, until the "what does it feel like to be in love" scene, Stede has no context to help him understand ANYTHING he has gone through emotionally since meeting Ed.

It's also significant that Mary is the one who describes love to Stede. Not only because of the closure the scene brings to the narrative by absolving Stede's guilt over leaving her, but because her relationship with Doug is hetero. It's permissible, it's familiar, it's instantly recognizable. She never says "I'm in love with Doug", Stede just knows. When she describes what love feels like, she's describing the internal experience of something that Stede has witnessed throughout his life but never been able to empathize with. And in that moment it clicks for him -- he DOES empathize with what Mary is saying. That is EXACTLY how he feels about Ed. (Because despite stereotypes, it's not like people on the spectrum are incapable of empathy, it's just that it can be harder to achieve because it's harder to interpret/extrapolate other people's emotions)

All of a sudden everything just makes sense. He's seen love but never known what it felt like, he's felt love but not recognized it. But hearing Mary describe it finally helps him put those two things together. He is in love with Ed. All those things people do for love in books that he could never quite understand? He gets it now, he can see himself doing those things because he is in love with Ed. The excitement and fear and confusion and intensity that has overwhelmed him these past weeks? That was LOVE. FOR ED. mother. fucking. EUREKA!

and and and AND in a meta sense, the epiphany Stede has kind of mirrors the audience's reaction to the scene. All those little moments he's flashing back to? Those were signs. That he was falling in love with Ed. Of course that's what they were, because we KNOW what romantic love looks like. We know how writers and directors and actors depict it on screen. and it is (or at least can be) no different between two men than it would be between a man and a woman.

This moment even more than the kiss to me was vindication for all the queerbaiting I believed could be queer representation. for johnlock and destiel and everything else. I wasn't crazy for thinking this line or that moment could be meant to signal romantic love. Queer romance that is just as layered and angsty and joyful and central to the plot as straight romance can exist on TV. Queer stories that aren't just about the characters' queerness but don't ignore it either CAN get made. We will put neurodivergent, queer people of color on TV.

And that's how this show increased my faith in humanity and revived my passion for my chosen career. Thank u for coming to my ted talk.

TLDR; Stede couldn't recognize what love looked or felt like until Mary spelled it out for him, and the way the writing links this inextricably to the trauma of growing up queer and neurodivergent in an unaccepting world makes me want to cry

a disclaimer for all my autistic stede posts: i am not autistic, i am a very Social Anxiety & Depression ADHDer. if you are autistic pls lmk your thoughts and/or if something i've said is insensitive or just Not Right

#our flag means death #ofmd #ofmd meta #autistic stede #autistic stede bonnet #blackbonnet #gentlebeard #stede bonnet #neurodivergent shit #neurodiversity #neurodivergent #autistic coded character #ofmd headcanon #chaotic textpost #mine #stede bonnet loves edward teach

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blinkvlink · 1 year

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theory time!

so. after today's ask about how rebecca lied about not knowing the details of rook's death, something i thought about before became more clear:

the supernatural rogue leader is rook's sister, i think all of us already suspected this for a while. there are many evidences that support this.

first of all, we know whatever the detective's eye color is they take it from rook, who has a twin sister. and falk mentions that the detective reminds them of her. not them, or him, her and he specifically mentions the detective's eyes.

secondly, at the end of book 3, the figure leaves a knight piece on rook's grave, which in a chess board is right next to the rook, possibly directly referencing their once close relationship and a nickname that rook himself gave to his sister. however the person who places is it there is reffered to as they in the text. there is two ways this could go, one: the figure is not the supernatural leader but their child because not only do they share the same color as their potential mother and the detective, they refer to the detective as 'the rook i was always meant to have.' or two: it's just a way for sera to keep up the mystery and not immediatly reveal the person's identity (which im %99 sure she is saving for the end of book 4)

the rest of the entire theory is placed upon this, so beware.

now, if i come to the main thing im focused on. i think rebecca knows exactly what happened to rook. i think rook was killed by his sister either direcly or by the people she sent, and rebecca knows this. she knows very well that the leader of the rogues is the detective's aunt.

something that supports this is that when the detective mentions the leader of the rogues after the talk with falk in book 2, both adam and rebecca reacts in a worried state. adam jumps to say that the rogues do not have a leader. while rebecca doesn't say anything.

perhaps because their worries come from different sources.

also, mind that this scene takes nearly right before rebecca's lie about she doesn't know how rook died.

now, one last thing, as to why i think rook's sister might have killed him.

there is a human sera mentioned a few times in some of the asks, who can travel the dimensions as they please. i think this is rook's sister, and when she was assumed dead, she was simply in the echo world. where she became a supernatural.

then, she came back and while i don't have the reasoning for this, she hated the agency and loathed everyone who worked in it. she then tried to convince rook to think the same way, but once he refused and she saw how connected he was to rebecca, she killed him.

now, the leader sees the mc as the rook she can have, as the detective could be open to manipulation. even if your detective gets along with rebecca, rebecca's knowledge of the aunt's existence could easily break this by default, leaving the detective open to be possibly convinced.

and this, i believe, is the entire angst of book 5. learning how rebecca knew a very important part of detective's life, yet said nothing. the aunt constantly trying to pursue the detective, presenting themselves as a family member, but possibly having much darker intentions.

i believe if rebecca is ever going to die, it will be in book 5 as well. possibly killed by the aunt.

anyway this was long enough, so i will just leave it at that. hopefully it all made sense lol.

#twc #the wayhaven chronicles #twc rebecca #twc 3 #twc theory #BUT THATS JUST A THEORY #A GAME THEORYYY #the wayhaven chronicles book 3

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johnnyloa · 8 months

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🕯️ Simplifying Loa 🫶🏻

——��———————————————————————

Hi bestiesss! It’s nearly autumn and I already feel the vibe of it.

Today I’d like to talk about Loa in the simplest way possible. I really hate when people are over complicating it. Literally the ‘rules’ to manifesting are so simple and manifestation in itself is so easy and we still are making up thousands methods and weird theories about whether your doing them good or not.

So…

What exactly is manifesting?

The state your in is going to push out.

That’s it bye ✌️😘

Jk I’m not gonna leave you there who do you think I am?

Consciously manifesting is putting yourself into a favorable state of already having what you desire. You can do that by affirming or doing some methods you find on the internet but just so you know - methods aren’t manifesting by themselves it’s you who manifest. Methods could just be helpful for you to get into the wish fulfillment. If your gonna be persistent in it, it’s gonna materialize in your 3D.

There’s no ‘but’, ‘what if’, ‘when’, and especially there’s no ‘how?’ If you already have what you desire (the essence of manifestation) you would not think of ways to get your desire. You already have them. If your doing something just to GET your desires - your gonna manifest more trying. If your in the state of constantly trying and fighting with your 3D, be sure your gonna wake up the next day trying again and fighting circumstances again - CONGRATULATIONS! Isn’t that what you manifested the other day?

See? That’s the whole point of states and manifesting. Your dwelling state will be reflected and the universe/world around you will make sure to provide you as much materialized evidence of the state that you were in the most. So if your trying to manifest something and your not identifying as someone who has your desire, your gonna experience more of it.

If your gonna switch states (to a favorable one) and persist in it. The world will provide you evidence of you having what you want aka you ‘getting’ your desires.

A very important part!!!

3D vs 4D

Ok Johnny, but what if my 3D is now only showing me what I do not want. How am I gonna just switch states when I see the exact opposite? The easiest answer you could think of. Ignore it.

That’s how you should look ignoring unfavorable circumstances btw:

See, the main difference between you and your imagination (4D) and the world around you (3D) is that the second one has no power. It CANNOT exist without YOU - the 4D. It’s reflecting your believes states and patterns your stuck in. But guess what - it has NO POWER OF ITS OWN!

So there’s no such thing as fighting against circumstances because it’s just gonna create more fighting against them. You may probably think that when something against your will happens in 3D you will have to fight it and defeat it or even stop it from continuing using your manifestation skills.

The thing is - it won’t continue. It won’t live on its own. Your the one who gives it life and your the one who feeds it daily. It has no power of going further without your acceptance. Your job is just to continue being in a state you want to experience (btw if your really being in that state, your already experiencing it). You have the power of creating - not the 3D. The 3D just follows your rules and applies your beliefs onto world around you. It cannot and wont create anything else. So ask yourself now - what state am I in right now? What will be expressed then? What evidence will I get of me being in this state?

But what do you mean the bad circumstances won’t continue on their own? I still see them and I still experience them… Because you’re still paying attention to them, your still accepting them as true and you still identify with them. Your like - yeah I see the circumstances if I see them they must be real - your in the state of experiencing them and accepting them as truth and then it gets pushed out again and your wondering why are u still in the same place?

But I’m not doing anything… EXACTLY your still remaining in the same state of accepting what you don’t want as truth and your experiencing it again and again. You have to ignore it and stop accepting it as real. You created them, you’re still creating them (see how powerful you are?) so you can stop them and create the opposite. Accept your 4D as real, not 3D.

Life happens THROUGH you, not TO you.

I really recommend listening to Edward Art on YouTube (ex. already being) or reading some source (Neville or even Bible if that’s what your into).

Go get your shit - wait I forgot, you already have it 😌

The End 💙💜

#neville goddard #law of assumption #manifesting #states #sp #specific person #manifesation #edward art #well being #3D #4D #subconciousmind

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lillotte17 · 8 months

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I keep waffling back and forth about what I think actually went down at the end of the last episode.

I know without a doubt that there is more layers to this than what we’ve been shown. It is incredibly suspicious that we don’t actually see the talk between Aziraphale and the Metatron, and we only have Aziraphale’s word about what was said between them. That, and my little author brain hears the line, “Does anyone choose death?” and automatically wants to paint it red and underline it three times.

Something Happened.

But I can’t decide if I feel like Aziraphale was tricked, or that Aziraphale was threatened.

(under a cut bc omg this got long, oops)

On the one hand, it certainly wouldn’t be the first time Aziraphale has been duped. He is especially susceptible to it when someone praises him and makes him feel important. He craves affirmation and purpose, and he is used to looking to Heaven to fulfill those needs, even if they never really met any of his hopes or expectations. If there was going to be a ploy that got him back into Heaven, “you can fix everything forever and bring your SO, too” seems like the exact sort of deal to pull him in.

Evidence in support of being tricked:

-Aziraphale’s genuineness, especially when he starts edging towards desperation. That “I need you!” was tinged with real panic.

-He is (usually) not a very good liar, he typically only gets away with it with angels who happen to be even more guileless than he is.

-I am certain that getting Crowley reinstated as an angel so they could be together was literally his dearest wish at one point. Whether or not it still is might be debatable.

-The fight follows the same pattern that all of their fights seem to. One or both of them storms off, and then Aziraphale pouts until Crowley misses him enough to come back and they patch things up. Only this time there isn't the opportunity for reconciliation.

-The fact that he does seem waffle for a few moments at the end when the Metatron comes back into the bookstore and asks if there is anything he needs to take with him. He’s clearly staring out the window at Crowley and grasps at the excuse of not wanting to leave his bookshop unattended, more like someone who feels like he might actually have a choice in these proceedings than someone who just had to push away the person they love to keep them safe.

On the other hand, the idea that Aziraphale would just blithely run back to Heaven and believe that they would want to give him a big bag of candy, the love of his life, and a huge promotion when they literally tried to execute him a few short years ago feels like a stretch, even for his usual level of gullibility. He absolutely still believes that Heaven is better than Hell, and he misses being a ‘certified’ angel with assignments to ‘do good,’ but thinking that he would trust Heaven and the Metatron so implicitly on such short notice with no real proof of their good intentions seems almost insulting to both his intelligence and his character growth from season 1. It would make much more sense (to me), if he pushed Crowley away intentionally, knowing that if Crowley thought that one or both of them was in some sort of danger, he would fight it tooth and nail, and quite possibly get erased from existence in the process.

Evidence in support of being threatened:

-He clearly did NOT want to go to the coffee shop with the Metatron, nor did he seem particularly excited about the alleged offer afterwards until he got back into the bookshop and started talking to Crowley. He was visibly uncomfortable in the Metatron’s presence the entire time, which is a little strange for someone who genuinely believes that the Metatron has just offered him his heart’s deepest desires.

-The alleged deal on offer is just TOO perfect. It’s exactly the sort of thing pre-armeggedidn’t Aziraphale probably daydreamed about in the bathtub surrounded by rose-scented candles. Exactly the sort of “too good to pass up” deal he would make up to tell Crowley why he was leaving, because it sounds exactly like what he’s always told him that he wanted.

-The fight was flawless. He didn’t JUST tell Crowley that he decided to take a position with Heaven again. He lumped Crowley in with the rest of Hell as ‘the bad guys.’ He insinuated that in order for them to be together, Crowley would have to become both an angel AND his subordinate. He refused to engage with any counter-argument Crowley offered. The bitter-sounding 'I forgive you,' after the kiss. This wasn’t just tripping over an unknown stumbling block in their relationship, this was falling down a flight of stairs face-first and hitting absolutely every step on the way down. Everything was framed in the worst way possible. And personally, I cannot reconcile the idea that Aziraphale, who has known Crowley since before time itself began, would somehow believe that Crowley would not only agree to this deal, but think that he might actually be excited about it. Crowley's resentment of Heaven is one of his strongest and loudest opinions. There is no way that Aziraphale doesn't know this about him. Every phase of their conversation almost feels designed to wound.

-Aziraphale is not only unsurprised by Crowley’s confession, but he doesn’t even seem especially pleased to hear it. This season, Aziraphale has made several less-than-subtle implications that he is operating under the assumption that he and Crowley are already an item, even if they haven’t actually put an official name to anything. He immediately corrects Crowley in episode 1, saying that the fragile peace they created belongs to both of them, it’s an existence they are sharing and enjoying together. Similarly, he insists that the Bentley and the bookshop belong to both of them, even if they each only own one on paper. The amount of casual touching has gone through the roof. When he asks Crowley to dance and drags him to the dance floor, giggling the whole way, that is not the demeanor of an angel pining after someone he hopes will return his affections, that is an angel who already knows that his feelings are reciprocated, and is absolutely giddy at the idea that they have an excuse to do something romantic like dancing at a ball. I cannot believe that the same angel who gasped and grabbed onto Crowley like a lifeline as he watched Gabriel and Beelzebub get the sort of happy ending he's always hoped for, would hear the love of his life offer to be an 'us', and answer with anything less than enthusiasm, or at least an admonishment that they are already an 'us'. Instead, he sort of just...dances around it. Turns it back towards the idea of returning to Heaven without even acknowledging the fact that the person he loves more or less just asked to spend eternity together. I know they both have bad habits of talking over each other and not really listening when they think they know what's best, but that is...quite a significant dodge. How do you skim over something you've been waiting to hear for at least the last hundred years, if not longer?

-I have seen the claims that Aziraphale looks like he is about to say 'I love you,' before changing it to 'I forgive you,' but the moment that always catches me is right after Crowley turns away. He does this shaky sharp inhale of breath and his mouth moves in what seems to either be, 'no' or 'don't', but he reels it back in. He swallows it down, and looks completely miserable about it. And just...why? Why not call after him? Why not chase him to the door? Sure, he's stubborn, and he has his pride, but the love of his life is leaving, and if Aziraphale really wants Crowley to go with him, if he really believes that going to Heaven would make both of them happy and safe...why not push harder for it? Why not break out the 'I love you's and the 'I want you to be safe', or even the 'I want to see you as happy now as you were before you fell', if that's what he really thinks being an angel would do for Crowley? Yes, I know, 'Communication Problems', but a lot of those walls come crashing down when you really think you're going to lose something. That's why panicked OTP confessions when one half of the pair is grievously injured is a Thing.

-The elevator smile. Everyone has their theories, of course, but my favorite was summarized with "it is a lovely day in Heaven and you are a horrible goose angel." That is the face of an angel who is heartbroken and FURIOUS, and has every intention of making it absolutely everyone else's problem. He doesn't look happy, but he does look satisfied. 'It worked. Crowley got away. He got away.'

I know it seems like I have a lot more arguments for the latter than the former, but it's one of those maddening situations where like...I know which one it would be if I was the one writing it, but sometimes the curtains really are just blue. And sometimes people who know each other well, and love each other with their whole hearts, are still stupid about things and fight and say things they don't mean. Sometimes people take the bait. Sometimes people get tricked. Sometimes they lose what they love the most while trying their best to hold onto it. Either theory makes sense. Either premise could lead to a satisfying and happy ending when machinations are revealed later. I trust that Mr. Gaiman knows what he's about. Hence the waffling.

#good omens #good omens 2 #aziraphale #crowley #crowley x aziraphale #*shakes fists at the sky*#i want to knoooooow #i have thought bout this for a frankly embarrassing amount of time #and there is nothing to do but wait #but uuuughghughhhh

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unohanabbygirl · 8 months

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I’ve been following along with your HIPS x FMN posts and I’m totally invested. Could you give us more angsty headcanons?

I’d be more than happy too. Ngl, I’ve been thinking about this AU for a while now so I have quite a few.

First off, getting into Osferth’s headspace is important because the plot revolves around his existence just as much as it does Luke’s past life and former trauma’s. Being a child born of r*pe isn’t an easy plight to come to terms with and creates insecurities regarding self-worth as well as your place in the world. Knowing that the worst thing that’s ever happened to your mother is what led to you being born is traumatic within itself. It’s something that never leaves your head, always there to remind you that you shouldn’t exist, that you ruined the possibility of your mother having a great life and doing amazing things. Luke could’ve been someone history regarded as one of the best Lords Driftmark had ever seen, but because of him Luke is no more than a victim whose been the subject of perverse and degrading art for centuries.

The constant reminders hurt, especially living in modern day. He’s still very young so being such a big (and slightly controversial) topic in history gets to him easily. He’s been forced to listen to strangers good and bad opinions regarding his mother and the choices he made. Judging what Luke should’ve done differently or how he fucked up by doing x,y,z despite the fact that he was no more than a scared kid himself. Osferth has always been a kind, understanding boy so it drives him up the wall that people can’t find it in themselves to see that his mother isn’t a topic to fuel their debates but a human being. Its a lesson to him that teaches him not everyone is capable of empathy or can put themselves in someone else’s shoes like he can.

Egg gathering evidence for months to reveal to the family that Aemond has a twisted fixation with graphic paintings depicting Luke’s assault hits Osferth hard. Though everyone did their best to make sure we wasn’t subjected to every piece of evidence available he still decided to do his own research after listening in while hiding at the top of the staircase. It leads him to googling the museum and taking some time to scroll through their website where he finds an entire category dedicated to art with Luke as the subject amongst other popular historical figures. The first page is tame and even leads him to shedding a few tears. Filled with beautiful pieces of paintings and sculptures alike that depict he and his mother as holy figures. Mostly of him as a newborn in Luke’s arms.

Sadly, the next click is where things start to get darker. Osferth doesn’t even make it to the bottom of the second page when he exits out and deletes his history without a second thought because there’s a chilling look of fear in Luke’s eyes as he tries to push a lust ridden Aemond off of him. Some are from as early as the late 12th century with price tags that go upwards of hundreds of millions. Little descriptions going on about the complex beauty of pain, forbidden lust and tear jerking push and pull between primal instinct and basic morality.

He doesn’t talk to anyone for a few days after that. Makes it a point to block Helaena’s phone number too after the bs she spouted in her brother’s defense. She never tries to contact him anyway, not after the absolute disaster she made of his 12th birthday party after showing up uninvited with Maelor and the twins.

One of Osferth’s most difficult struggles regards his looks which is understandable. He’s a carbon copy of Aemond and there’s not much he can do about it. He’s come to Rhaenyra about it quite often, voiced his own issues with how he looks as well as asking if she resents him for it. Ofc she tells him no, gives him a big and and assures that she could never see Aemond she looks at him. Same as his own mother did after he learned the truth.

Unsurprisingly, this doesn’t help much.

Soon enough Osferth goes down the rabbit hole of cosmetic procedures to change his most striking features. He’s still a young teenager (I picture somewhere around 13) so it’s not as though he can go under the knife, but this doesn’t stop him from becoming borderline obsessed with changing his looks via surgery once he’s of age. Perhaps a nose job or chin shaving, maybe both along with some filler to make his face less angular. Round out the harsh edges that he’s come to resent.

In conclusion our baby is struggling 😔

#asks

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authoreeknight · 1 year

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I keep thinking about what we actually know about Andor. I've spent way too much time speculating about Kenari and I've decided Gilroy purposely left it vague. Even the "industrial accident" story is suspect. That was the official Imperial storyline for Jedha in Rogue One and authoritarian regimes aren't usually imaginative in their lies so I'm betting it's "Atrocity Coverup Story #1". Interesting that the prohibition on travel to Kenari seems strong enough that Maarva didn't want any hint of it in Cassian's paperwork.

We don't even know exactly how old he was when Maarva, Clem, and B2 took him off in their hauler. He looked to me like he was either in or on the edge of his tween years.

The first hard data comes at age 13, when in the aftermath of Clem's hanging he goes after some Stormtroopers. He's subdued, charged with insurrection, destruction of Imperial property, and assault on an Imperial soldier, and sentenced to 3 years in Sipo Youth Center, getting out when he's 16.

He goes "straight into the mud" on Mimban as a cook, according to Luthen, and within six months figures out he's playing Popular Front Battle Simulator on Hard Mode, where your fellow factions can betray you and there are no respawns. Who was he fighting for? No data, though he does call the Separatists "Sep" and he doesn't use abbreviations for any of the other factions, which means to me either he was used to fighting with them or against them, you tend to use verbal shorthand for words you use a lot. Anyway, he decamps in the manner of Pistol in Henry V, stealing home to Ferrix to steal, using the old wreck of a hauler to stash stuff.

At some point he ends up with Clem's Bryar-model blaster. Maarva was smart enough to hide it from him in the aftermath of Clem's death.

Now we don't know when he started up with Bix, either romantically or in the scheme to sell stolen equipment. But we know the stolen equipment bit only goes back two years at most, because that's when Salman Paak got his transmitter. The romantic element has even less for us to go on beyond that fact that it existed. One possibility is before Clem's death and Sipo, but at 12 or 13 it seems more like he'd be sneaking over that wall into her place so he could use her good game controller. I think it's a lot more likely that it was when he was back from Mimban. Say he's 16-19, a toughened teen more or less and pushing all Bix's "bad boy with a heart of gold" buttons and probably adding a few she didn't know she had. Rebel newly without a cause. Whatever it was the evidence is it was pretty intense for both of them. She gets emotional in Ep 7 when she tells him to leave Ferrix ("for good" is implied but I don't remember it being spoken, though "forget about me" sounds pretty damn permanent). At Bix's very lowest point in the hotel after being tortured her brain went to him showing up to rescue her.

*Sniff*

For Cassian's part, when he crept over her wall in Announcement, he was more than a little intrigued at the idea that Timm had suspicions. Then upon his return to Ferrix he's back over that wall straight away and as soon as he learns she's in Imperial hands his only priority is getting Bix out of there, to the point where he'll mostly ignore Maarva's funeral as that distraction gives him his best shot. Brasso has to go spelunking in that tunnel under the hotel to give him Maarva's final message. Once again, we're short on facts, but I think it's safe to say that Bix is the most important romantic relationship in his life up to this point in S1. He sure didn't look up Peezos 'n Green Revnog on Niamos.

To me, Cassian's still enough of a mensch to risk it all to rescue Bix even if there wasn't so much as a romantic ember still glowing.

We also still don't know who told Luthen about him. Bix said it wasn't her and I believe her. That leaves Salman Paak as the only Ferrix person we know for sure met Luthen (according to information from his interrogation). Maybe he gave Luthen a rundown on potentials and Luthen settled on Bix as the most valuable for his current needs while he did his own research into Cassian. But now we're in the speculation weeds again.

I think that's enough for one Saturday night. I'm going to try to cut down my obsessing to an hour or so a week from now on.

#Andor #Cassian and Bix #rogue one

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mrs-tsunderemeitantei · 2 years

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Well.. we all know that BO will be destroyed one day, the whole world will know about it's existence... truths will be resurfaced and the most darkest secrets will be revealed..!!

Most characters fates are almost well known, with exception of Sherry/Haibara Ai.. What about her??

I always wonder about the topic of "Aftermath of Sherry" in the end of DC story!!

For example.. Let's imagine that the BO had fallen... its members as well as their boss were all captured and brought to justice, and Haibara regained her true identity as Miyano Shiho after creating the final antidote!! May be it sounds good and expected ending.. but the hardest part has yet to pass. Returning to her original body, Shiho will be left to pick up the pieces of eighteen years living with a noose around her neck..!!

Not only that, but I've always had a weak spot for story dealing extensively with the aftermath of the BO fall, especially when it's around Shiho who will be trying to rebuilt a new life on the ruins of the old one.. in addition, I'm curious and interested to see Shiho dealing with the consequences of her work in the organisation, facing and/or atoning for her sins in the past. I do not know how she will be treated by PSB, police or any other secret service intelligences.. will she be treated as a suspect/ criminal/ victim??!! Also, how she will be viewed according to her country's laws?? And what will be her punishment if she was viewed only as a high-ranking criminal from BO with codename "Sherry"??!!

However, I have different theories/ideas about her aftermath once BO is destructed:

1- Abandoning Shiho Miyano and living as Ai Haibara (I don't think so)

2-Returning to Shiho Miyano, handing herself to police station. Transferred to Teitan High School with suspended sentence, and joined Shinichi Kudo and Ran.

3-After returning to Shiho Miyano and paying for her crimes (imprisoned for several years), she will return to Ai Haibara and live with Dr.Agasa as well as DBs again.

4-She will return to Shiho Miyano, handing herself to police, but would not be prosecuted due to insufficient evidence. After receiving a thank-you for some rescue drama from the detective boys, She says goodbye to Shinichi and others, aiming to develop a drug that makes people happy, and go on the path as a scientist and researcher... or choosing a career that saves people lives (being a doctor for example) !!

5- The fact that Haibara is accused means that the existence of APTX4869 will be known to the world. If that happens, nations and terrorist organizations around the world will make a leap toward APTX4869, which could be out of control. Perhaps the FBI and PSB will hide APTX4869 data, as well as concealing its terrifying effect as lethal poison which doesn't leave any trace in body, and of course the shrinkage effect on Conan and Haibara. Therefore, Haibara will not be accused or arrested .. and APTX data will be kept as a secret, but of course, with the exchange of information about BO from Haibara since she was deeply involved in BO.. knowing much more than wanted about them (plea deal as I guess).

That all I have thought about until now.. and only God knows what Gosho has stored for Haibara in the end of this great series.. but since he stated before that's her ending is gonna surprise everyone, I'm -on the other hand- looking forward to see it. I know her ending being a surprise scares fans..And while there are so many ways to screw up her ending, I'm optimistic Gosho will deliver us an ending worth the wait.. !!

I honestly have nothing else to add 😂 You came up with all the possibilities and I applaud you and thank you for that👏🏼👏🏼👏🏼 Also I think it's so amazing that we share the same opinions. It makes me really happy😁😁

I have my own theories in the pinned post of my page regarding her ending and I agree with your fourth point the most. I hadn't thought about the last point but I think it's very valid and important and I very much see it happening.

But like you said, we're going to have to wait and see what Gosho has in store for us.

Once again thank you so much for this!💛

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desk-work-expert · 2 years

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So this is mostly an out of character curiosity but how does Nanao truly feel about the Ise curse? How do you the mun interpret it how 'real' do you think it is? How real does SHE think it is? Your Ise curse headcanons hand them over. (Please?)

unprompted || always accepting || @marigoldmelancholy

Nanao's feelings in the manga about the Ise curse tie very closely to how she truly feels about it, and there are a couple of reasons for this.

She knew before the Lille fight ( canon shows she knew pre academy, even if she had to build up the pieces over time and still didn't have a complete picture during the Lille fight) and has therefore had time to digest the information and form her own opinion on it. Her declaration just before she and Shunsui emerge from Lille's shadow isn't jut her trying to make an injured man feel better, but the result of many years of thought. She is not one to make snap judgements over something as serious as this, nor is she one to spare Shunsui's feelings when she feels the truth is necessary (we see this during the soul society arc, where she and Shunsui discuss helping out Jushiro. She cares but isn't blinded by it). We also see during the Lille fight that Nanao has some understanding of her family history (having been raised by some elderly Ise clan members) which adds further weight to the idea that some of Shunsui's revelantions are not new to her.

Her approach to the curse, in the panel below, tallies with the Nanao we see throughout the rest of canon. She is not one to indulge in superstition, and the Ise Curse certainly falls into that category. This panel also shows her deep respect for Shunsui and how she looks to him for guidance (again, something we see between them in the soul society are as well as the diamond dust rebellion film). The way their relationship functions leaves me willing to believe that if he's so certain of Shunsui's view here, then her own view is also certain.

3. Nanao's feelings about her mother and her demise are complicated, and this in turn affects how she views the curse. As much as she loves her mother, she also sees her attempt to conceal the sword as foolish and somewhat pointless considering how close she wound up to Shunsui anyway. The fact her mother was willing to put so much faith in the curse to do what she did has made her stop and consider the curse in the past but, in her mind, does not offer enough evidence to support the idea that the curse is real. This is an old tale and even the most respected people can belive odd things. Her mother also wasn't in her life very long compared to other people which also makes it harder for Nanao to understand her perspective and get a sense of what she truly believed.

She also feels that it's hard to definitively say that the curse was the cause of any men marrying in to the family when she knows of no recent marriages into the family and Shunsui's tale takes place so far in the past. She accepts that this is somewhat faulty logic, but is also unwilling to put too much trust in something that essentially exists in legend to her.

As for how much she believes in what Shunsui told her, Nanao absolutely believes that her family is matrilineal and there is something in her family makeup which prevents male heirs being either born or kept around. Whether this is genetic or the curse, she is unsure, but the fact her sword is a hereditary one leaves her more open to the idea that maybe that has something to do with it than she normally would be.* I think if she ever had her own children, this would be something she could examine in more detail.

*I think it's important to note here that we never actually get any details about the matrilineal nature of the Ise clan in canon and I think it's important to question what this looks like. As a mun, I personally think that it's possible that babies of both genders are born within the clan and that maybe the male children are either stillborn or adopted out/killed (it would fit with the idea that the Ise family are essentially a group of preistesses), although the mystical element of the sword fits right in with the bleach universe and I don't really have the heart to discount it.

#tsp activity check #stillbirth tw #miscarrige tw #infanticide tw #marigoldmelody #ask respone #headcanon #((I am so sorry this has taken so long #I typed it all out only for the page to refresh #I lost the lot #and have had to psyche myself up to rewrite it))#((literally had to step away from the laptop for 10 minutes and take a deep breath lol))

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flapperdame16 · 2 years

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PSA: THIS BOOK⬆️⬆️ IS TRASH

Mini rant under the cut with some spoilers

So when this book was first published In 2019 I was pretty psyched. Very few novels are published about Anna of Kleve (even using her German name, even though it would be Anna von Kleve being full Deutsch - I took German for 3 years in HS and my favorite uncle speaks fluent German taking it for 7 years in school -6-12 grade- and then using it in the army being stationed there)

Anyways it opens with teenage Anna who has a love interest in a distantly related cousin Otho- who yes did exist. Ok fine- this is a work of fiction, who says Anna can't have a teen love interest? Cut to them "just kissing" on Otho's instance of it being just kissing and pretty soon Anna is pregnant and gives birth to an illegitimate son- and this happens in chapter 2- page 34. THIS RUINED THE WHOLE NOVEL FOR ME.

Can I ask why must biographical fiction completely, always and further continues to disrespect these women who can no longer defend themselves??? We use them as our entertainment, when authors and screenwriters forget they too were real life people.

I'm all cool with oh maybe she had a love interest, even a failed engagement before marrying Henry or after she and Henry VIII divorced, found someone to be companions with. It doesnt even matter that maybe possibly she could have been with another man before Henry- BUT A CHILD?? Especially when we know there is no evidence whatsoever!

The author justifies her fiction of this by saying Henry VIII himself concluded Anna was no maiden- and had breast and a a belly that sagged. Ohhh PLEASSSEE. Please report to me a woman who doesnt have a saggy belly/ breasts- child or no child?

The author also claims that Anna could have given birth because there was no documentation of her whereabouts and lived quietly in the country for a year - who's to say she didnt suffer from illness? Or documentation had been lost or destroyed? I swear how does Alison Weir call herself a historian?

Anyways- the love child storyline- even though the child is given away in the narrative. One would think the plot point is over but after Anna divorces Henry the storyline comes back into play as she reunites with Otho and her child Johann. Otho and Anna resume their relationship - which doesn't bother me BUT THEN SHE GETS PREGNANT AGAIN-- UGHHH. But then plot twist- she has a miscarriage, leaving her Johann and Otho. Johann does not find out Anna is his mother until she confesses on her deathbed

The author dropped the ball on this novel. She had the chance to highlight a really unknown but important woman in history- Anna lived after her life as Henry's wife! I also agree with some reviewers who claim this book drags on for far too long. Not much is actually known about Anne of Cleaves- and I dont think she has enough info for a narrative that goes on for 486 pages (spanning her teen years to her death). Its all about Quality vs quantity.

Anyways- take a good look at this pic because I'm getting rid of this piece of garbage. I once though Alsion Weir was better than Philippa Gregory- but wrong was I.

One day there will be respectable tudor novels out there- and maybe there already are. But until then I guess I'll just stick with my go to series of Showtime's The Tudors- which yes has its inaccuracies but at least doesn't stretch the truth to make you wanna tear your hair out.

#alison weir #Tudor fiction #anne of cleves #Anna of kleve

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redrobin-detective · 3 years

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Ok, I’ve tried and tried and tried to write this fic because I see it so clearly in my mind but it’s just not going no matter what I do. But I don’t want the idea to die with me. The closest this came to being written was exile which was an attempt to bleed out some of the energy of this au.

Anyway, so it starts off vaguely similar to canon only more aggressive. There had been underlying tension between ghosts and humans for a while, the dead jealous/angry at the living for disrespecting them. The successful creation of the Fenton ghost portal (and another halfa) was considered an act of war and so the ghosts responded in kind. So basically all of S1 occurs fairly close to canon except ghost attacks are more violent and have increasingly more consequences as time passes. Also the attacks aren’t just in Amity Park with ghosts becoming a worldwide issue but Amity is a focal point. Regular people know the ghosts hate them though they don’t know why. Phantom is very much a controversial figure as he is a ghost but also clearly is fighting off the more violent ghosts.

One day, not long after the events of Control Freaks, Amity Park wakes up to find three of their own are gone. Danny Fenton, Sam Manson and Tucker Foley are nowhere to be found. There’s a massive manhunt, the parents go on TV and beg for information but they cannot be found. Curiously enough, town hero Phantom was also missing. There’s some evidence they left of their own volition so the Mansons and Foleys eventually relent that the kids fled on their own. The Fentons are 100% certain the kids were stolen/killed by ghosts as a statement. And the fact that Phantom went missing around the same time means he was the one who killed them. Jazz knows Danny was Phantom but had no idea what was going on and knew her parents wouldn’t listen she just, kept quiet and privately tried to piece together what happened.

Three years pass and finally it looks like the Ecto War is coming to a close. Young, naive ghosts attempted to raise Pariah Dark in a bid to win. It went disastrously but Phantom (who was periodically spotted around the world, deep in the worst battles of the war) and group of loyal allies subdued the king. By the law of ghosts, Phantom was named heir apparent and he declared that the fighting would stop. Humans and ghosts would have to negotiate and co-exist in peace. But he’s not king yet, no he needs to be crowned at the place where it began, Amity Park’s Fenton portal (”where it all began” has a double meaning of the beginning of the war but also symbolically where Phantom began as Kings assume the crown where their living life ended to show their abandonment of their first life and the commitment to their second). Amity is NOT happy to hear that their former hero is coming home.

Amity has been through the wringer, ghost attacks got pretty bad. The Fenton’s throw themselves into their work to cancel out the grief, they create a group of ghost hunters nicknamed the Reds (for their red blood, ghosts are nicknamed Greens) to control the threat. Valerie heads the young adult division and is considered one of the best, she drops out of school to devote herself to it full time. Oh also her dad is now the Mayor as most have died or didn’t want the job. There are still people who like Phantom and see him as a hero (a lot of Casper Kids) but it’s generally an unpopular opinion in town. Maddie and Jack are ready to obliterate the ghost that took their son’s life the moment he’s within city limits. It’s a powder keg ready to blow. It all comes to a head when Phantom and his entourage arrive.

First off, Phantom looks very different, much less human looking than when he left. He’s clearly aged like a normal teen but his eyes look much, much older. His skin is dead white with a blue tinge to it from his ice core and his aura is super cold. His hair is longer and is very misty that kind of swirls around him and his has fangs and claws. When he’s deep in battle or his obsession, his sclera turn black and he looks scary af. His entourage is ghosts who have sworn loyalty to him, who he picked up along the way after battling beside them for 3 years. Fright Knight, Skulker and Frostbite are recognizable allies. They are not happy that their future King is back in Amity (secretly fearing they’ll lose him once more to his human life). J&M have a shot and are going for the kill when they see something that shocks them; Sam and Tucker are in Phantom’s entourage.

There had been whispers that Phantom interacted with humans, that humans were in his inner circle but this is something else together. And so are Sam and Tucker. Sam is Phantom’s General, she is talented and collected and half feral. She used to be a pacifist but the trials of war and understanding that peace sometimes needs to be fought for made her compromise. She’s covered in scars and an extremely talented fighter. She’s missing her right hand up to her forearm, she can form a ‘phantom limb’ (basically borrowing ectoplasm from her future ghost) to do some things with some powers. Tucker is the support, he uses human and ghost tech to organize, weaponize and generally keep things running. He’s covered in homemade tech (shields and weapons and computers) and he rarely removes. Both he and Sam have kinda forgotten how to interact with and really BE human after so long among the dead. They had attempted to conceal themselves but they had forgotten how strong parental love and recognition is. J&M want to know about Danny, the teens don’t know how to respond but assure them he’s alive. Phantom can’t bring himself to look at them.

This is where I start to lose track of things but there will be parallels of Valerie/Maddie vs Sam as female warriors on opposite sides who are willing to go behind, possibly compromising the things important to them, for victory. Tucker will be contrasted against Jack/Jazz as the one making weapons but also generally keeping the human parts of the team mentally/physically afloat. *Severe* PTSD for all three of them. They’re also unnaturally codependent on each other, get super anxious when one of the trio is out of sight and sleep in a big cuddle pile. They will fucking Kill You if you look at one of them wrong. Vlad will be involved, he had been jailed for war crimes but convinced Walker to stage a coup to overthrow Danny and take the crown before he’s actually declared King and is too powerful. Vlad is more unhinged here, more ghost than human (a hint on what could happen to Danny if he’s not careful). He is eventually defeated but he sacrifices his life for ghost power which, in the end, is what makes him able to be beaten.

There’s lots of ideas on what it means to be live or dead and where the divide really is, is it a heartbeat or it is how you choose to use your existence. On how duty shouldn’t mean you need to give up everything. Because Jack and Maddie believe that Phantom killed their son and, in a way, they’re right. Before they left, the ghost war had gotten so bad and the rumors of Dark being resurrected were going around. Amity attacks were at an all time high, people in their school were being killed just because Danny went there. He realized he had to choose between Fenton or Phantom and he chose to protect the world. He abandoned his human identity and went off to fight in war. Tried to convince Sam and Tucker to stay but they followed him through hell and back. Because Danny spends so much time as Phantom, Fenton is severely neglected. His long hair is cool and floaty as Phantom but is unkempt and stringy, hanging in his face as Fenton. He’s wan and underweight and looks like a walking corpse. He knows his human half will give out soon if he doesn’t give it more attention but he just can’t there’s too much to do, too many people to save.

It would end with Danny being outed to the town, not the world, just the town. Jack and Maddie need to recon with the fact that their boy DID leave of his own choice but only because their failure to protect him (from both the portal and ghosts) made him feel he had to take all this responsibility on his shoulders. Danny also has to recognize that he (and Sam/Tuck) can’t do all this on their own and they can trust and rely on the people around him. Phantom is crowned King but he decides Amity will be his base. The trio eat more, sleep some, catches up on school all the while continuing their duties as King and court. The ghosts also see that Phantom’s humanity isn’t a weakness but a strength and will bring peace to the Earth/Zone so they also take some of the burdens off his shoulder.

Basically I load up heavily with angst at the beginning and end with all the love and comfort imaginable. I just can’t fucking figure out the middle and my motivation will not let me write this shit out. But I can’t let this AU die bc it fucking keeps me up at night.

#behind me dips eternity #god I want to write this but its just not going #Ive been trying for over a month #I cant finish the outline #I've only gotten a paragraph into actually typing #but there are so many vivid images from this fic that live rent free in my head #was lowkey thinking of comissioning an artist to depict Danny bc I've tried and its not coming out right and it drives me INSANE #bc this world is very vivid to me #i love it even if it hurts me #anyway here's wonderwall

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sergeantbuckybarnes · 3 years

Text

the moment i knew // bucky barnes

Summary: When Bucky comes back from a mission with Natasha you can’t help but think something has changed between you and start doubting if this relationship is something Bucky really wants.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word count: 3.1k

Warnings: insecure reader, jealousy, miscommunication, curse words, angst, fluff, drunk reader

A/N: As always, please remember English is not my first language. I tried my best to write this, please don’t be rude. Also, thanks to @pistachoz for helping me and proofreading this!!

divider by @firefly-graphics

You had never considered yourself as someone jealous, you believed it was an awful feeling, irrational. But you couldn't help the sense of discomfiture forming in the pit of your stomach when there was evidence for you to feel that way. Bucky has been on a mission with Natasha for two weeks, this was the first time the two were sent alone. In the beginning, you didn’t worry about it because- you were aware of the past your boyfriend and the black widow shared, but Bucky had always assured you that it was in the past and he didn't see her as anything more than a friend. He made sure to show you every day how in love he was with you, and you didn’t remember the last time you felt this happy with someone.

But this mission changed everything.

Bucky usually calls you to check on you, even if he’s busy he always finds a way to text or call you, but this time he hadn’t even answered you. You got worried at first, millions of thoughts of what could have happened racing in your mind, but when Natasha contacted Tony to assure him they were okay, all you could wonder was why hadn't your boyfriend contacted you.

You gave him the deficit of the doubt and tried not to take his avoidance the wrong way but when they came back, he went straight to his room without even sparing a glance your way. What game was he playing at? What has happened on that mission to make your boyfriend act this way?

“You should go to talk to him,” Wanda advised “I’m sure there’s a reason for him acting this way”

“Oh yeah? And what is it?” you scoffed.

You were in Wanda’s bedroom. She was your best friend, always supporting you when you needed it, this time was no different.

“Y/N, you know Bucky. He’s not that kind of guy. I’m sure there’s a reason. Stop being stubborn and go to talk to him”

You looked at her; she was giving you the “mom look”. You sighed. You loved Bucky, and you didn’t want to lose him. There had to be a reason, right? You knew he loved you, he even said he wanted to grow old and have a future with you.

You get up from Wanda’s bed. “You’re right,” You walked out of your friend’s bedroom and made your way to your boyfriend’s room. When you reached the corner of his hallway, you hear a door opening and people laughing. You put your head out the corner and you saw Natasha on the doorstep of your boyfriend’s bedroom. He was there too. Shirtless. She laughed at something he said and you didn’t catch and she smacked his right arm in a joking way. He was laughing too. You had never seen your boyfriend laugh that way with anyone other than you. Or Steve. And maybe Sam. But with Natasha? Never. Also, he hated when people invaded his personal space and touched him without permission.

You huffed as tears pricked at the back of your eyes and made your way back to your friend’s bedroom. Once there, you closed the door and slid to the floor. All the anger you once had turning bitterly into sadness, poisoning every fiber in your being. Tears started to blossom on your eyes and sliding through your cheeks. Wanda ran towards you and embraced you in her arms, asking what had happened, stroking your hair, in an attempt of calming you.

Sobbing you tried to tell her what you saw, the more you cried the hard it was talking and breathing for you. Wanda got you up from the floor and walked you to her bed, she cupped your face in her hands and wiped the tears from your cheeks.

“Breath, Y/N” She breathed in and on with you until you calmed a little.

You didn’t understand how he could do this to you. After all the things you had done for him. All the panic attacks, all the nightmares, and the sleepless nights you shared with him. And that is the way he repaid you? Going on your back with your friend?

And Nat, you had trusted her, the countless times you had told her things you would say to anyone, she was your friend and she assured she felt nothing for him anymore. She assured what happened between her and Bucky was done. You feel betrayed by two of the most important people in your life.

If he wasn’t happy with you, he could have told you. Yes, it would have hurt, but not much hurt as the one you were feeling right now.

“Are you sure that was what you saw? Maybe you misinterpreted it,” Wanda was trying to help, knowing Bucky and Natasha, it was impossible to think they would do such a thing to you.

“Wanda, if you saw Vis shirtless laughing at night with another woman in his bedroom, and this woman is touching him, what would you think? How can you misinterpret that?” It wasn’t about being open-minded, permissive, or controlling. It was about respect. There are things you don’t do if you are in a relationship with someone. He was out a lot of nights with Sam and Steve, and you were okay with that. You didn’t mind if he has girl-friends. But what you saw today and his attitude towards you in the last two weeks was something you could not ignore.

Wanda paused for a moment, thinking about what to say to you to make you feel better “Well…if they’re really doing this to you, then fuck them. They don’t deserve you,” your friend stated, “this defines them, but not you.”

You sniffled wiping your nose with the back of your hand. Your eyes were red from crying and they started to hurt. “Can I sleep here tonight?”

You usually slept with Bucky, either you went to his room or he came to yours. But tonight that wasn’t an option. Possibly, that wouldn’t be an option anymore.

“Of course,” She wasn’t going to leave you alone when you were going through such a hard time. You had always been there for her, and now she was going to be there for you.

When Pietro died, and she came to the Avengers Compound you were the first one to came and check up on her, you didn’t ask her how she was feeling, that was a stupid and obvious question, you just stay there with her, offering your support. And from that moment she knew you were going to be a very important part of her life.

“Now try to sleep. If you don’t rest, you won’t heal”

The next day came sooner than you would have wanted to. The sunlight coming through the windows made you rub your eyes.

“How did you sleep?” Wanda was lying next to you, she had just woken up a few seconds before you.

“Not my best night,” You sat up in bed and rubbed your temples.

You felt her hand on your shoulder and you looked at her “I’m with you, okay?” You’re not alone,” She gave you a reassuring smile.

You were going to have to face Bucky and Natasha, and you weren’t prepared for that. When you reached the kitchen, you could hear their laughs again. The same laughs from last night. You took a deep breath and pursed your lips, trying to suppress the tears that were starting to form in your eyes. Not again. Not in front of them.

When your boyfriend noticed your presence, he turned his attention towards you, a wide smile spread on his face. “Hey, doll” He started to make his way to you “I went to your room last night but you weren’t there” Was he seriously like he didn’t ignore you for two weeks and yesterday acted like you didn’t exist? What a scoundrel.

He hovered over you, trying to wrap his arms around you but you dodged him. A confused look formed on his face. “I slept with Wanda. You seemed very busy, didn’t want to bother you.” You didn’t let him answer, just made your wake to the counter to pour two coffee mugs, one for you and one for your best friend.

Everybody was wearing confused looks at your behavior, you had never acted this way towards Bucky; you were quite the opposite, always hugging, kissing, or holding hands. Your PDA was something that drove the team crazy sometimes, but they were happy for you. Acting like this set alarms on everybody’s head. What the hell happened between you two?

Bucky tried to talk to you the whole day but managed to slip through his fingers. He wanted an explanation. He wanted to know what he had done to make you act this way towards him. You two were fine when he left on that mission, so what had happened in that two weeks he was gone?

He finally found his chance when he caught you alone in the gym. This time you wouldn’t walk away.

“Y/N,” his voice was firm but not harsh, “Can we talk, please?”

“I don’t have time” You kept punching the bag and ignoring his presence. That’s it. He had enough. He grabbed your arm and turned you to him. Face to face.

“What’s gotten into you?”

“Let me go” You pointed at your grabbed arm with your eyes and he let you go.

Bucky huffed. “What did I do?”

You looked at him perplexed. Was he being serious? “Are you really asking me that?”

“Y/N, honestly. I don’t know what I did.”

“You didn’t call, and neither answered any of my texts.”

“Really? That’s why you are mad? My phone broke and I couldn’t contact you”

You chuckled. What a lame excuse. “Of course. What about Nat then? You could have asked for her phone”

He frowned. “I told her to text to you, to tell you I was okay”

“Well, she didn’t”

“Maybe she forgot. I don’t know. It’s not much of a deal”

You were starting to get exasperated. He didn’t get it.

“You know what, Bucky? Fuck you!” That was the last thing you said to him before you left the gym. Wanda was right. He didn’t deserve you, and he didn’t deserve your tears either.

You didn’t hear of Bucky for the rest of the day. Now you were sitting in your bed, a framed picture of the two of you in your hands. Your eyes started burning. You missed him. You didn’t want to miss him. You two were happy, didn’t you? You didn’t understand what you had done wrong.

You hear a knock on your door, you put the frame down on your bed and wiped your eyes. “Come in”

The door of your bedroom opened to let you see who you used to consider a friend. What was she doing here?

“Get out” you got up from bed abruptly and pointed at the door. Natasha looked at you shocked.

“Y/N, w-” you didn’t let her finish her sentence.

“OUT. NOW.” But she didn’t budge. She just stayed there, looking at you. You finally got tired and pushed her out of your bedroom.

“Y/N, Calm down. I just wanna talk to you” You didn’t answer, closing the door in her face.

“F.R.I.D.A.Y.” you called the AI system.

“Yes? Miss Y/N.”

“I don’t want anyone in my room. Don’t let anyone in. Only Wanda.”

“Alright. Miss Y/N. Do you want me to let Miss Maximoff know that you want to see her?”

“Yes, please.”

F.R.I.D.A.Y did as you told, and a few minutes later you hear a knock at your door. “Y/N. It’s me” You opened the door and crashed into the arms of your best friend.

“Let’s get out of here. Please get me out of here.” The redhead looked at you worried.

“What happened?” she questioned.

“I don't wanna talk about it now. I just- I can’t be here”

Wanda looked at you sympathetically and wiped the tears off your face the same way she did last night.

“Okay,” she nodded “Let’s get out. We are going to have a girls day”

When you came back to the compound it was late at night. You were stumbling, arm slugged on Wanda’s neck. You had drunk a little too much, trying to cop-out. Your mother always said that being drunk is the anesthesia of the fools.

“Best night EVER!” you yelled, raising your fist to the air.

Wanda hushed you. You were going to wake up the rest of the team. “Wan, you're so hot.” you keep babbling, Wanda laughed, she was going to make sure to remind you this night tomorrow. “I love you soooooo much”

“I love you too, Y/N”

“You’re like my best best friend”

“You drank too much, Y/N. You need to sleep”

You shook your head, “No, no Imma go talk to him”

Wanda dragged to your best. “You’re going to sleep. You can talk to Bucky tomorrow”

“NOW!”

“Now you’re going to sleep” Wanda stated, getting tired of your drunk state. You looked at her, she looked so intimidating, you nodded like a scared puppy and did as she told. The moment your body hit your bed you fell asleep. “You’ll thank me tomorrow,” She said before stepping out of your room.

Sunlight streams golden through the window. You raised your heavy eyelids halfway only for them to fall shut again. The aching in your skull ebbs and flows like a cold tide. Now you understand why they call it a hangover. Perhaps some painkillers would help.

You hear a knock on your door, you groaned and wrapped yourself in your duvet, hoping that whoever was out the door would just go away. But the knock persists, louder each time.

Once on your feet the room swayed, almost causing you to lose balance and you reached for the wall. This feeling made you think you had to have fun last night but somehow it wasn’t in your memory.

The reflection on the mirror in the wall shows no sign of the glamour girl of last night. You rubbed your eyes before opening the door.

“Wanda told me you would need this,” Bucky handed some painkillers and a glass of water in his hands. The cracking in your head and your dry mouth were too strong to ignore them and to kick out your boyfriend. You took the pill from his hand and threw them in your mouth followed by the glass of water.

“Fun night?” he asked, entering the room and closing the door.

“You could say that”

Bucky sat in your bed as you went into the bathroom. “You never handed alcohol well,” he chuckled under his breath.

“Bucky, what do you want?” you asked tiredly

“You and I have a pending conversation”

You sighed. “Now it’s not the best moment. Besides, I look awful”

“You always look beautiful,” he said softly, walking carefully to you, he brushed a piece of hair out of your face, tucking it behind your ear.

“Don't do this. Not now.” you closed your eyes, melting under his touch.

“Don’t do what? Telling you how I feel?”

“What happened between you and Nat?” you finally asked, the alcohol remaining in your system putting your defenses down. You didn’t want to fight. You just wanted to know. What Natasha had that you hadn’t?

Your question didn’t startle Bucky, not shocked him either. Little you know, Wanda had gone to his room last night, after she made sure you were asleep to question Bucky about his behavior towards you on the last few weeks. She cared for you, so much. You were like a sister to her, and she wouldn’t let anyone take advantage of you or make you feel like you weren’t worthy.

“There’s nothing between me and Natasha. I promise.” he said sincerely “I’m in love with you.”

“Then why didn’t you call or text me? Two weeks, Bucky. I hadn't heard from you in two weeks. You had me worried. We always call and text each other when we are on a mission”

“I told you, my phone broke. I told Nat to text you, I don’t know why she didn’t do it. I’m sorry”

You looked down. Bucky has never lied to you, and he has never given you a motive to mistrust him.

“What about the day you came? You ignored me the whole day”

“I was tired. All I wanted was to clean up and rest.”

“With Natasha?” you inquired

He looked at you confused, not knowing what you were talking about. “I went to your room that night, Natasha was there and you were shirtless”

He rubbed his face. “Oh, Y/N. That doesn’t mean what you think,” you looked at him, waiting for him to explain himself “She just came to check up on me, I just came out of the shower, she didn’t even come in”

“You were laughing, though.”

“And you think that means I cheat on you? You always laugh with Steve and Sam. And I don’t think you are cheating on me with them. Why is Natasha any different?”

“Because-” you were ashamed of showing your insecurities to Bucky. “she had you first.” You couldn’t help to compare yourself to your friend, she was prettier, she was smart. She was everything you were not.

“And you have me now,” he cupped your face “And I want you forever.”

Bucky bent down and closed the gap between you. Finally feeling his lips in yours and- oh god. How have you missed the way he feels. He kissed you with so much gentleness like you were going to break any minute, but that wasn’t what you wanted right now; you needed to let him know that you were there, you wanted to feel every part of his body against yours and reassure yourself that he wasn’t going anywhere. You knotted your fists in his shirt, pulling him closer if that was even possible. He groaned, his hands firmly on your hips and lips agape. When you pulled away you smiled and touched his lips with your fingers. ��I’ve missed you.”

“Missed you too, doll,” he said circling his arms around you making his way towards your bed until you hit the mattress, his body hovering over yours. “We have so much time to make up to.”

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes fanfiction #sebastian stan #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan imagine

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quillquiver · 3 years

Text

On SPN, Burying Your Gays, and Being Heard

I am shaking, I feel sick, I feel like I’m insane. And did I run a little wild with the theories? You bet. But you know what didn’t help? The botched clusterfuck that was this entire goddamn finale debacle. How was I supposed to believe anything they said in panels when M&G dialogue would leak saying the exact opposite? How was I supposed to grieve and move on when there was nothing from the cast and crew? Nobody said anything! And any info leaked just destabilized what we already knew or directly contradicted what we’d been told. In light of that, how was I supposed to trust anything anyone said? One rogue translator reciprocated the love confession and I was practically sold, because there were so many questions surrounding the English text that this was something good, something that logically fit, and something I wanted to hold onto.

Because they hurt me. This is about so much more than one episode or a ship; for years queer fans have seen ourselves in these characters and been told that we were crazy. That we were reading too much into it. I’m not sure how people get upset and offended when a storyline that doesn’t exist... doesn’t exist! said Guy Bee (2013). And then, after all of that, they turned around and said magnanimously, you have your version, I have mine... and that’s okay. But it’s not okay. It’s not okay, because that doesn’t erase what came before - that doesn’t erase the baiting and the gaslighting, and that invalidates everything we felt in the time leading up to that episode. It gave them an open window for all the subtext that came after. It allowed them to brush us off.

And then we got Cas’s love confession. I watched that scene about 500 times. Added to the rest of the season - to the fandom avatar being presented as successful and intelligent, to arc being the death of the author - I felt seen. Really seen, by a show that made it its mission to erase me. I had been okay with Cas dying at first because I had been sure the romance arc would carry through. I had been convinced that after everything, there was no way they would give that to us and then take it away.

But they did, because this is Supernatural. To anyone saying this is not bury your gays, I implore you to read up on the Hays Code. This link is to an amazing queer history podcast and the episode that covers it. In short, the Hays Code was a legal document that came about in 20th Century Hollywood during the puritanical war on the American entertainment industry, and it stipulated what was not allowed on screen. Not all of it was queer - there’s a whole section about kissing - but what the Code is most remembered for is that queerness was not allowed on screen. But queer people are resilient, and so they started testing the waters... and it turned out that you could in fact code queerness into a narrative, as long as it was subtextual, or as long as the queer character died/was punished, or both. The point is that the character is not allowed to live their truth openly. They are buried, either in the ground or punished in the narrative. The former is normally what we refer to these days, because the latter just doesn’t really happen anymore.

Until Supernatural.

Castiel is immediately punished for speaking his truth - and please don’t tell me he leveraged that punishment and so he had agency. Literally the only thing that could make him happy was confessing his feelings, and so the Empty deal was directly related to this idea of queerness-as-punishment. That being said, Bobo wrote a beautiful scene. Cas’s confession was a love letter to queerness and coming out... but everything that came after buried him. Castiel may have ended the series alive but he was effectively written out of the last two episodes, and that means that he actually never really got to live his truth. He was silenced by the narrative - that is punishment.

Dean is a whole other can of worms. Does one rogue translator confirm canon bi!Dean? Or do we have to read our own version of the text? The fact that we even have to ask these questions firmly places us in the realm of queerbaiting. Were the writers trying to get bi!Dean approved but were unable to? I have no idea, but queerbaiting requires proof that the writers encouraged a reading they had no intent of following through on, and we certainly don’t lack in evidence of that. Not from this writers room, but from those of previous eras. Did these writers try? They might have, but the funny thing about queerbaiting discourse is that there has never been a show to bait this long, and I’m making the call that even if you tried at the end, you baited me with half the ship and all the years that came before.

Of course, the narrative leaves open the possibility of bi!Dean so if you do read the show that way, that means Dean also falls into the bury your gays category; if you read the show this way - which many of us do - the mere suggestion that Dean Winchester was bisexual was enough to punish him. And he was punished. We’ve all written extensively on this, but he was given a random death, on a case his father never finished. All that growth, all that time spent having him accept himself, love himself, that was all taken away. He died the way he always thought he would: as a tool, in service of his father, protecting his brother. He had always believed he’d been a body to throw on the sword and in the end that’s all he was. And when he gets to Heaven? He’s also silenced. He barely speaks in the episode except to monologue during his death, and that is 100% Sam-centric. He is scared.

It was horrific to watch. I sobbed so hard my roommate was seriously concerned.

I had been fully prepared for Supernatural to end disappointingly. I had figured everything would end with a huge heaven reunion because white, straight, cis-male S&F writers love the idea of death as a reward, but instead of being disappointed I felt like I had witnessed a slaughter. Every single one of the queer themes intrinsic to the show: found family, resilience, speaking your truth... were gone. And I know we’ve talked about this too, but it bears repeating, because in doing this, in writing the queerness out of its narrative, Supernatural effectively looked every one of us queer folx in the eye and said: you are not important. You don’t matter. All of that stuff that came before is all good and well, but what really matters at the end of all things is blood family. It’s two brothers in a car. Life sucks but at least we get to die and go to paradise - real paradise, that your angel buddy died for and then made for you and who we never hear from again.

I felt insane. I felt cheated. I felt humiliated. I felt devastated. I still feel all those things, but listen to me. You have been heard. Not by Misha Collins, who is a great guy, but doesn’t get it. Not by Jensen Ackles, who is a similarly great guy, but also just doesn’t understand. And not by anyone else who worked on this show.

You know who heard you? Me. The people who follow me. The people who follow you. We saw each other, and heard each other, and we gave each other a leg up. We made memes. We wrote fic. We drew fanart. We made gifs. All for ourselves and all for each other. We broke Tumblr multiple times. We donated over $60,000 USD to multiple different causes. We got multiple hashtags trending at multiple different points, and today kept it up because we demanded answers and then we got them. There were at least 5 articles written about the show today. We made that happen. We made people listen.

Supernatural didn’t deserve me, and it didn’t deserve you. It didn’t deserve Dean. It didn’t deserve Cas. It didn’t deserve Misha and Jensen. But this show ended with a bleak, awful message and we turned around and showed them that love is loud. So what about all of this is real?

We are.

#alex talks #spngate #archived #this was very therapeutic #and i honestly don't know if i will ever be able to love something like this again #because i have been burned oh man #but this fandom is amazing #and i am proud to be a part of it #and i am not going anywhere #journaling #15x18 #15x19 #15x20 #castiel #dean winchester #destiel

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drawlfoy · 3 years

Text

detention, retention, and draco malfoy being a little shit

masterlist request guidelines

pairing: draco x reader

request: no not really

summary: golden trio friend y/n y/l/n tries to extract information out of draco malfoy after being placed in detention together.

warnings: swearing, panic attack kinda stuff, just the dark war things that would come w having the task that draco does

a/n: ayo so i started this as a fic i was originally planning on writing in a week. i discontinued it bc i didn’t think anyone was that interested, but i’ve written for it on and off. it’s about 16k words right now standing, but i’m reposting this as a 2 part series. here are the first ~12k words....enjoy :) IMPORTANT: if you’re like “hey i started reading this in october why tf are you reposting the first two parts” just keep reading ok lmao i promise there’s more there’s about through part 6 in here hehe. i just wanted new readers to be able to pick up on it without being turned off by the fact that it was part 3. this will b e 2 parts and at least 20k words

word count: 11.6k

taglist: @gruffle1 @missmultifandommess @cleopatera @hahaboop @accio-rogers @geeksareunique @eltanin-malfoy @war-sword @cams-lynn @itsivyberry @ayo-cowbelly @nerd-domland @yesnerdsblog @shizarianathania @evanstanfanatic @strawberriesonsummer @hariosborn @night-ving @straightzoinked @imintoodeeptostop @naiomimoonshard @jejegu @ophelia-enthusiast @alwaysbeanunknownfan @nearly-memories @litty-dumb @callieclearwater @malfoy-wife15 @charlenasaxen @belladaises @fiantomartell

happy reading y’all

For legal purposes, the york pudding she lobbed at Pansy Parkinson’s head on Monday evening was simply meant to be a joke. She didn’t know that her aim was bad enough that it was going to get in Snape’s hair instead--honestly, it wasn’t even supposed to get past the Ravenclaw table, much less veer to the left to make a beeline for the professors--but no matter how much she tried to explain this to McGonagall, her sentence remained the same: detention every Friday. For two months.

Her life was ending for sure.

“I honestly don’t know what you were expecting,” Hermione told her as she gently wiped off the nib of her quill later that night in the common room. “Even if you had hit your mark, that’s still technically assault.”

“Did you even hear what she said to me? She told me that I looked like the type of kid that bit people in primary school,” complained Y/N. “I didn’t even think she knew what primary school was!”

Hermione snorted. “How long ago?”

“Two days. I’ve been waiting until there was something throwable on the dinner table.”

“How very analytic of you.”

“I’m going to hit you.”

“And you wonder why you’ve got detention.” Hermione tsk-ed at her, her face stone serious but her tone light hearted. “Maybe take this as an opportunity to, I don’t know, do your homework for once? So you won’t have to have a breakdown over the next Potion’s essay and beg me to write it for you?”

“I’m going to go to sleep and think terribly mean thoughts about you.”

“Have fun.”

Detention.

Something that Y/N wasn’t completely unfamiliar with--she’d done her time organizing Snape’s cabinets, just like every other Gryffindor--but it was different when it came to McGonagall. An impressive old lady, she thought that McGonagall saw something in her. She was always the first to chuckle at Y/N’s jokes and hesitated to reprimand her stupid behavior. And she never gave Y/N detention.

Until now, she supposed. 6th year was changing a lot of things--even their Potions professor--so McGonagall turning a new stone shouldn’t have been anything shocking.

At least, not as shocking as the first thing Y/N saw as she walked into her house head’s office.

“Malfoy?” she spat.

The platinum blonde didn’t even bother to look up from his desk.

“Miss Y/L/N,” Professor McGonagall chided. “I think we would all prefer if you restrained yourself from getting into any more physical altercations with Slytherins.”

She huffed, plopping down in the chair furthest away from that foul git and reaching for her satchel.

“I’ll be back in two hours,” said the elderly professor. “If I hear anything, and I mean anything, other than the sound of studying, consider your sentence doubled.”

With a swish of her robes, McGonagall was gone, leaving her with Malfoy.

“So what’d you do to get in here, huh? Did the administration finally get a hold of that video of you licking Voldemort’s toes?”

“What the fuck does that mean?!” he snapped, whipping around to glare at her.

“‘s just a joke,” said Y/N. “Like--how everyone says your family houses him and everything--but whatever. I can tell it’s a sore spot.”

His gaze, never withering in intensity, remained trained on her face. “You have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Apparently so. What’re you here for?”

He exhaled sharply. “If I tell you, will you shut up and let me think?”

“No promises, but maybe.”

“Late work. I forgot to turn in the Transfiguration exam last week.”

She made a tutting sound as she lazily shuffled through the crumpled parchment in her satchel. “I expected more from you. Aren’t you gonna ask me how I wound up here?”

“No. I am going to ask you to stop talking now, though.”

“That’s terribly unfortunate,” Hermione said over breakfast the next morning. Ron and Harry were nervously chit chatting at the other side of the table over the Saturday Quidditch game against Hufflepuff--supposedly it was supposed to be quite a high stakes match. Not like Y/N cared much, though.

“Yeah! And the worst part was that he won’t even tease anymore. Like, he just sits there all broody and woe is me. We’re all witnessing our nation’s descent into war--he’s not special!”

“Who are you talking about?” asked Harry.

“Oh, just Malfoy,” said Y/N. “We have detention together with McGonagall. He’s such a nasty little greaseball, don’t you think? I mean, look at him right now, glowering over his cereal.”

“Wait! That’s it!”

“What’s it, Harry?” Hermione asked.

“It’s genius, really,” he said. “Y/N has to spend time with him alone every week, and we know that something is up with him. Malfoy is absolutely a Death Eater and has connections to You-Know-Who, but I just need to find a way to prove it.”

“I vaguely forecast where this is going, and I hate it already.”

“Listen, Y/N. It’s not for that long, and it’s for the health of the wizarding world. If you just get to know him--”

“Ick!”

“If you just get to know him, maybe get him to trust you and find out his secrets...we’d finally have enough to turn him in and throw him out of Hogwarts for good.”

“Is that really necessary, Harry?” Ginny butted in from her seat further down next to Dean. “Malfoy’s probably just exhausted like the rest of you. 6th year is difficult, and we have no solid evidence that he’s a Death Eater. I’m sure being stuck in a room with him for 2 hours is hard enough without pretending to be nice to him.”

“But what if Harry’s right?” said Y/N. “What if he is actually a Death Eater? What if he’s an active danger to the student body?”

“Exactly!” The joy written across Harry’s face at the prospect of someone else finally agreeing was infectious. “So will you?”

“Er…” She dragged her spoon across the top layer of her porridge. “In theory, sure. In actuality, I’m not sure how I could do it. Malfoy doesn’t want anything to do with me, either.”

“Love potion?” offered Ron.

“I don’t care how much of a prat he is, I’m not roofying him.”

“I rarely agree with you, Y/N, but I think you’re right. If you want to do this, you need to get him to trust you for real.”

“Your back-handed compliment skills never disappoint, Hermione. Do you think you could help me out with a plan?”

A slow smile spread across the girl’s face as she nodded. “That’s my strong suit.”

The plan they laid out over the remainder of the day was ambitious but at least do-able. Each week was split into different subtasks, the end goal being a somewhat tentative friendship between the two.

“If you can flirt with him and get him to have a crush on you without scaring him off, you’d be in the best possible position,” Hermione told her as they walked back from the Quidditch pitch among the screaming Gryffindor fans. They’d won--yet again. “Obviously I don’t foresee that being likely, but if you pull it off somehow he’d probably be willing to tell you anything. The fact that you’re a pureblood is going to carry you through this whole ordeal. He’ll at least be accepting of your existence in the wizarding community.”

The bitter edge in Hermione’s tone made Y/N’s blood boil. There was no reason for Malfoy to be as prejudiced as he was--he’d spent his adolescence in Hermione’s academic dust. She was obviously smarter than him.

“You got it, ‘Mione,” she said. Her voice barely carried over the cheers of her peers as they ascended the steps to the common room. “We’ll take this little ferret down. I can’t wait.”

“Don’t get too cocky, now.”

The Gryffindor after-party was crazy...per usual. The charmed self-filling goblets, the blasted playlist of Wizpop pumping through the air, and the buzzing energy of the room was giving Y/N a giant headache. She stood with Hermione and Harry by the edge of the crowd, watching Ron get hoisted up on the shoulders of the chasers.

“No wonder the Slytherins think we’re Neanderthals,” Y/N mused. For once, Hermione didn’t respond. “Hermione? Is everything okay?”

The second she turned away to look at her best friend, gasps and whistles filled the room. She whipped back just in time to see Lavender Brown, a sweet but slightly ditzy girl in their year, pull away from a kiss with Ron.

“Oh shi--Hermione!”

Harry and Y/N shared a glance before darting after the witch--who had impressively already made it to the door.

“Hermione, wait!” Y/N called as they jogged after her, throwing open the common room entrance and finding her sat by the tapestry on the other side of the hall, knees to her chest.

“‘Mione, what’s wrong?” asked Harry.

“Don’t be daft, Harry,” said Y/N. “You saw exactly what the rest of us did.”

“I don’t understa--”

“Harry.” Her voice was taut. “I know you’re just trying to help, but I think that it might be best if you let us be. Go back and enjoy the party.”

He gave her a tight, grateful smile before darting back through the door. Y/N wasted no more time in walking over to Hermione and throwing her arms around her shoulders.

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered, hugging her tight. Hermione made no move to detach them, so she continued. “Ron is an idiot. You deserve so much better--your first kiss was Viktor fucking Krum, after all. You’re hot stuff and this place is just unfortunately running dry of men who are impressive enough for you. Once you’re out of here and working in the Ministry, you’re gonna have the time of your life with men actually in your league.”

Hermione managed a sniffly laugh as she wiped her eyes with her sleeve. “It’s just so fucking embarrassing, you know. Like, I have a crush on him because I think he understands me and I smelled him in my Amortentia and I thought he’d like me back, but…” She hiccuped. “Then he goes off and kisses Lavender Brown, of all people. There’s nothing particularly wrong with her or anything, but she’s so different...I’m so bookish, and she’s so girly and everything I’m not…”

Y/N took the opportunity to tuck a lock of Hermione’s hair behind her ear as she listened.

“And it can’t help but make me think--was I ever anything to him but a friend? If the girl he ends up choosing is the opposite of me?”

“Girly, don’t think like that,” murmured Y/N. “He’s a teenage boy. They don’t think of love the way that we do--to them it’s a game of availability, not of choice. At least for Ronald. You intimidate him, and by extension, you’re not available.”

“That shouldn’t matter!”

“You’re right. It shouldn’t.” Y/N drew a long breath. “So you should find someone who always has you as their first choice--someone who isn’t intimidated by your intellect. They’re out there. I promise.”

Hermione managed a shaky smile. “Thanks, Y/N. I mean it. Do you mind if I have some alone time? I don’t think I’m ready to go back to the party but I just want some quiet.”

“Of course. Let me know if you need me,” she said, brushing herself off and making to walk down the hall.

“You’re not going back to the party?”

“Nah. It hurts my head and I want fresh air. If I’m not back here in a half hour, assume that I’ve been kidnapped.”

With that, she started her walk. She wasn’t planning on going on a long stroll--there was a small balcony that she often went to when she needed to clear her head. It was beautiful, especially on a snowy night like this.

But the walk was creepy.

There was only one way in and out--a narrow, damp hallway that had absolutely no light fixtures. If Y/N really wanted to, she could cast a quick lumos, but she wasn’t sure if she wanted to see what lived on the walls. The stairs were steep, too, but she managed to bound up all 40 of them in record time.

“Who’s there?”

The sudden voice ripped a scream out of Y/N’s throat as she reached the top, catching a glimpse of the shadowy figure at the edge of the balcony that spoke. She clasped her hand over her mouth and she crept forward to the opening, getting a better look at the person that was in her secret spot.

The clouds shifted in the sky to allow more moonlight to cast a soft glow on Malfoy’s face, hardened with irritation.

“Malfoy?” Y/N asked, rather dumbly.

“What stellar observational skills,” he drawled.

She felt her cheeks grow hot. “What are you doing here? This is part of the Gryffindor tower. Shouldn’t you be...I don’t know...playing hide and seek with the sewer rats in the dungeons?”

“Very funny.” His flat tone exposed the fact that he did not, in fact, find it very funny. “There’s no rule barring me from coming up here.”

“But why? This is my spot!”

“Because I wanted to get out. Now, I was here first, so unless you want your detention extended, I suggest you leave.”

Y/N bit the fiery comebacks on the tip of her tongue as the memories of her plan with Hermione began floating back to her.

Week 1 -- Hold one neutral, civil conversation with Malfoy.

“I’ll be quiet. You won’t even know I’m here,” Y/N decided upon. leaning up against the balcony. The rogue snowflakes that made it past the overhanging roof melted on her cheeks.

“That isn’t a suggestion,” said Malfoy. “I’m demanding you leave.”

“Beautiful night, isn’t it?” Y/N asked, pointedly ignoring his words. “I’ve always loved the snow. It’s so quiet.”

“And it would be even quieter if you left.”

“Aren’t you the conversationalist?” said Y/N.

“If you don’t leave, I will hex you,” Malfoy told her through gritted teeth.

“I just love how the moonlight reflects off of the snow,” continued Y/N. “It’s so...pure.”

“Please leave.”

On her walk back down the dank stairwell, she allowed herself a little smile.

Task 1? Technically done.

The first week went largely as planned. Malfoy was cold and certainly suspicious of her, but he wasn’t completely venomous when Y/N asked where he got his quill from in Potions. It was silver, charmed to shimmer with flecks of forest green. He told her Barnaby’s in France, and that was that. She walked away from his table with all of her limbs attached. Perhaps that was all the progress she was going to make in the next few weeks, but the task at hand certainly made the prospect of her lost Friday afternoons more bearable.

Harry was going completely batty, rambling on about how Malfoy was behind the mysterious cursed objects that had been floating about the castle without explanation.

“And why would Malfoy bring cursed objects to Hogwarts if he has aspirations other than being expelled?” Hermione would ask over their books.

“You don’t understand, Hermione! You girls need to be careful walking around at night--especially you, Y/N. I don’t want you going missing after detention because of that slimeball.”

Y/N always gave him a laugh, berating him for his slight misogynistic commentary and turning back to whatever her task was, but the truth was that she was worried for him. The mental weight of the impending war and the fact that he couldn’t do anything about it was certainly getting too difficult for him to bear. It was heartbreaking to see the vivacious boy she’d grown up with crumble under the responsibilities of something he should never have to worry about in the first place.

Friday came much sooner than expected, and Y/N reluctantly left her friends in the common room to trek to McGonagall’s office. The walk was frigid and the wind bit at her cheeks as she rounded the last outdoor hall.

Why was this castle so dark?

A thump behind her made her jump, and Harry’s words came floating back to her.

Remember all those cursed objects? What if there’s someone just...stalking the school grounds, waiting for someone like me to snatch?

She shivered, throwing herself at the office door and slamming it behind her.

“Miss Y/L/N,” Professor McGonagall greeted, her eyebrows raised in amusement. “Something giving you trouble?”

“No, Professor,” she answered, setting her bag down on the desk next to Malfoy. He sent her a curious look as well. “It’s just cold outside.”

She chuckled. “I need to go speak to Headmaster Dumbledore. I expect that, upon my return, you both are in one piece and alive.”

“I’m not sure if I’m the one who needs to be given that speech,” said Y/N, bored and testing the waters.

“She’s right, Professor,” added Malfoy. “There’s no projectiles here.”

McGonagall exhaled a long, shaky breath before brushing herself off. “Please. Behave yourselves.”

“You got it, boss,” she said as she watched her Professor walk out the door. “So, Malfoy. How was your week?”

“I don’t know what you’re up to, but I’d way prefer if you didn’t speak to me,” he said, refusing to make eye contact.

“I’m not up to anything! We’re in detention together and, I dunno, since I see you sometimes at balls, I thought it’d be nice to be on good terms.”

“Good terms?” He scoffed. “You’re a Gryffindor. I’d rather you be a bloody Hufflepuff.”

“How about neutral terms?”

Even though he wasn’t looking at her, she could catch a glimpse of him rolling his eyes. “If neutral terms mean you being quiet, then, yes. Please.”

“I’ll be plenty quiet. After I hear about your opinion on what happened in Potions today with Brown and Weasley. When Snape yelled at them for holding hands.”

He let out a sharp sigh. “Believe it or not, I actually have better things to do than keep up with whatever stuff your house does.”

“But…?” Y/N pressed. She may not’ve spent her time at Hogwarts as Malfoy’s best friend, but she had grown up with the boy, and she could tell when he was holding back.

He stared blankly at her.

“Come on. I’m literally the only person in my house who’ll openly admit that they’re disgusted by that dynamic. I’m begging you.”

She wasn’t sure if she was imagining it, but she thought she saw a flicker of amusement dance across his face for a moment. “Your house sounds more like a cult than a student group.”

“Oh, says the one from Slytherin,” said Y/N.

“We only act like that because our families are close. What’s your excuse? Hormones and Quidditch culture?”

“Touché.” As much as she wanted to fight back, she bit her tongue. Whatever she was doing was making progress, and quicker progress than she was expecting. Her next task was to make him laugh, and she was emboldened by the fact that she could potentially be able to kill two birds with one stone.

They sat in silence for a little bit, but this time, it was a comfortable silence. Malfoy wasn’t staring at the clock on the wall or rolling his eyes at her every move, so she had time to plot.

On one hand, she could make a fool of herself--drop her inkwell, say something stupid in class, fall down the stairs--but she had a sneaking suspicion that her sorry attempts at slapstick humor wouldn’t land well with Draco anymore. He’d become so serious lately, so solemn. This was the most light hearted she’d seen him, even compared with how he acted with the rest of his Slytherin lackeys.

On the other, she could try to sell out her friends. She could confide in him how “big” Hermione’s teeth were (they weren’t even big) or tell him that Ron smelled of eggs (true, but that was a low blow). Something told her that this would be much more successful, but she wasn’t willing to turn to that so quickly--she was already a week ahead as it was.

“What is it?”

Malfoy’s bored drawl cut through her flurried thoughts. Her cheeks turned pink as she blinked, noticing that she’d been staring at him for far too long. “Nothing. Sorry. I just spaced out.”

“Sure,” he mumbled, giving her another suspicious look before turning back to his work. “Can you maybe space out somewhere other than my face?”

“Where’s your vanity, Malfoy?” she pressed as she leaned back in her chair, hair swinging over the back.

“Shut up,” he snapped. She could tell that whatever connection they’d had in the fleeting moments beforehand was being burnt by the second, but her embarrassment and pride drove her forward.

“Merlin, what’s got you so wound up?” she prompted, noting how deliciously unraveled he looked at this. “Where’s my cool, collected Slytherin?”

He slammed hands on his desk at this, whipping around to glare at her. “What’s your angle, Y/L/N?”

“What?”

“Why are you bothering me?”

“Because I want to.” She beamed.

Malfoy ran his fingers through his hair, mussing up the usual neat manner in which it normally laid on his head. “Compelling. What do you want from me?”

“What do I want…?�� She tilted her head at him, narrowing her eyes. “What?”

“You never talk to me,” he explained. “Obviously, I prefer it like that. I can’t help but wonder why suddenly you want to be making small talk. So, what is it you want from me?”

“Malfoy,” she said. “I think you’re a spoiled prick who thinks far too highly of himself and drives me insane. But I also think that you’re funnier than what my friends give you credit for. Granted, you’ve always been annoying, but I don’t want anything from you. I just want to, I dunno, make these next few months less insufferable.” Somehow the lie slipped through her teeth easier than any of her previous bluffs.

He frowned, his mouth opening once before firmly screwing shut into a scowl. “Oh.”

“No offense, Malfoy, but what else can you offer me other than your dazzling personality?” she teased. “You know my family. I don’t need to blackmail you to pay for jewelry I’ve had my eye on or anything.”

He scoffed. “As if I’d say yes.”

“Exactly my point. It’d be fucking weird. Merlin, I’m not trying to butter you up to buy out Borgin & Burkes for me. Do I give off gold-digger vibes? Is that what this is about?”

“Fucking hell.” Malfoy turned to her in disbelief. “Do you ever shut up?”

“Answer my question. Or better yet, pull out your wallet. Wait, did I say that out loud?” She mimed surprise and covered her mouth. “Oh no! What will my mother say now that I’ve squandered my last chance of hitching you? There’s no way I can go home for Christmas break now.”

He rolled his eyes so hard she found herself worried for a moment that they were going to just permanently get stuck in the back of his head. “Hate to break it to you, but you didn’t really have a shot to begin with.”

Ouch.

She huffed and dramatically flopped over the back of her chair, hoping he couldn’t see that she’d flinched. “So you don’t think I’m pretty??”

“Y/L/N,” he snapped, his voice a low warning. “Can I please just work? What is with you today?”

Y/N sent him a sour look before giving her Charms work another look. Malfoy was awfully quiet, and when she snuck any glances at him later on, he was angled to face away from her.

Why did she feel like such shit all of a sudden? She cataloged the past events, trying to pinpoint the exact moment that her stomach dropped. It all made sense when the words “You didn’t really have a shot to begin with” echoed around her head once again. She’d failed Harry. She’d failed Hermione. There was no way that she was going to be able to get him to reveal his secrets now--it’s not like he was confiding in even his closest friends as Harry made apparent when he explained how vague his statements were to his fellow Slytherins on the train. Her only chance would’ve been to somehow get him to fall for her, and that wasn’t going...great. And it had been a pipedream to begin with.

When McGonagall swished back into the classroom to dismiss them, Y/N shot out of there without even looking at Malfoy again. It felt like something was lodged in her throat and she was not going to cry in front of him. No, no. She had to make it to Hermione to tell her what was going on.

“Y/L/N?”

Malfoy’s voice made her pause in her flee as she nearly rounded the corner in front of her, but she refused to look back. It was far enough away that it was possible she didn’t hear him.

“Wait!”

She was up the stairs and speed walking as fast as her legs could carry her to the Gryffindor tower before he even saw which way she went.

“I don’t think you understand,” Y/N wailed by the fire as Hermione rubbed her shoulders and Harry sat awkwardly perched on the couch. “I can’t do this. The only way this was going to work was if he had a crush on me, and I don’t think he ever will. I fucked it up! The one time you guys need me, I fuck it up! I let you down!”

Hermione’s left hand stopped its rubbing to rest firmly on her shoulder. “Please don’t be upset. You didn’t let us down. Plus, you’re only, what...two weeks in? You don’t need him to like you to make it work. Just getting him to trust you will be enough, and you’re good at that.”

“I don’t think so,” continued Y/N. “Harry said that he wasn’t even that open on the train when he overheard him talking to all of his friends. And those are purebloods that he likes! That he’s trusted and known for years and years! I’m a friend of you guys, and he knows it. I think he’d figure it out quick.”

“We should take every chance we can get,” said Harry from his spot a few feet away, his eyes lazy and unfocused on the fire crackling in front of them. “You won’t let us down if you can’t get anything, Y/N, you know that! But if you got anything from him, it’d be incredible. It’s a win-win. I don’t understand why you’re so upset.”

“I’m not upset,” she said, her tone becoming defensive. “I just...don’t want to mess this up. I know how much it’d mean if I succeeded.”

“So just try!” Hermione said. “There’s nothing wrong with it. I’m sorry he was kind of mean to you today, but I don’t think that should bother you too much. He should be more afraid of what you’d say if you didn’t care about being a good person.”

“Fucking right on there,” she said, wiping away the frustrated tears. “If I was honest with him, he’d leave crying. He should be grateful that I’m taking this bet so I actually have to be nice to him.”

“That’s the spirit.” Harry leaned over to smack her back like he did his Quidditch teammates after a winning match.

After they’d parted their ways with Harry, Hermione and Y/N made their way slowly up the stairwell to the girls’ dorms.

“Y/N?” Hermione asked, breaking the silence.

“Yeah?”

“Do you think, er…” She paused. “Do you think you were really upset about failing us today? Or was it something else?”

“What do you mean?” Y/N furrowed her eyebrows. “I don’t see what else it would be.”

“I’m sorry,” responded the bright witch. “Forget I ever asked. It was a stupid thing to wonder about.”

“Weirdo,” she teased as she waved her a goodnight and made her way to her dorm.

The next morning, Y/N busied herself with revising her Charms essay over her breakfast--a cup of tea and a half-buttered piece of toast--while Hermione leaned over her shoulder, nodding or grimacing at the corrections she made.

“Did you work during detention? Like, at all?”

“‘Mione,” moaned Y/N. “It’s too early for this. I don’t want a lecture. I just couldn’t focus.”

Her warm brown eyes narrowed as they bore into Y/N’s face. “Why were you distracted?”

“Oh, I, uh…” She stumbled over her words as Hermione drew closer. “Merlin, Hermione. I told you last night. I just felt like I was letting you all down.”

“Mhm,” was all she got in response before her best friend tilted her head back down to the parchment in front of her.

Y/N sat, completely puzzled. What was Hermione on about? She’d been straightforward with what was hurting her--she didn’t want to mess up the only task the Golden Trio had ever given her--and, even if she hadn’t been, Hermione was smart enough to deduce things for herself. So what was she thinking about?

Her eyes drifted over to the Slytherin table where the usual 6th year pureblood gang loitered about, drinking black coffee and sulking--but Malfoy was not to be seen. She jumped when her eyes met Parkinson, her dark eyes burning into her soul as a deep scowl was written across her face.

“Malfoy, what the fuck do you want?” Ron’s voice pulled her back to reality to see him glaring somewhere behind her.

“I wasn’t here to talk to you,” a familiar voice drawled.

She turned to see Malfoy standing behind her, a sneer written all across his stupidly pretty face.

“Miss me already?” asked Y/N as she raised an eyebrow and cocked her head to the side.

“For fuck’s sake, stop doing that,” he mumbled, reaching into his pocket and throwing a box at her. “You forgot your quill. I took the liberty of properly storing it, because it seems like you lot like to just throw them in your bag. Makes me physically ill to watch.”

“Oh.” Y/N studied the intricate box in her hands before tucking it away in her knapsack. “Thanks? I guess?”

He nodded curtly, contorting his face into one last scowl to send to Ron before turning and leaving,

“So,” Hermione began, cutting her omelet at a much brisker pace, “I think we need to have a little chat. About...all of this.”

“Why?”

“Not right now,” she said, her voice low and her eyes flicking at Ron and Harry sitting across from them. “I don’t think it’d benefit us for them to hear.”

“Ok?” She cautiously took a bite out of her toast and continued staring Hermione down. “You’re scaring me.”

“It’s...I don’t know. I thought I was crazy for thinking this, but it seems like we need to talk about it anyways. For this little mission of yours to work, we need to be totally open and honest with each other.”

“Sure.” Y/N took another bite. “I honestly have no clue what’s got you so on edge, though.”

“Who’s on edge?” Harry asked, leaning over the table and stealing the croissant on Y/N’s plate.

“Hey!” she exclaimed. “Do you not see the entire plate of them over there?”

He laughed, sending her an easy grin and dunking a piece into the hot chocolate in his mug. “Finders keepers. Say, Y/N, are you busy next weekend? Ron and Lavender are going to Madame Puddingfoot’s together, and I know Hermione isn’t going to want to take a weekend off studying to go to Hogsmeade, so I thought that maybe we could go cause some trouble at the Cauldron.”

“If you stop stealing my food we can talk about it,” replied Y/N, the corners of her lips tugging up into a grin.

“Deal.”

Hermione tugged at her arm. “I just realized I need to get something out of my room before we watch the Quidditch game. Will you come with me, Y/N?”

“Sure!” said Y/N. “Gee, I’m rolling in invitations today.”

Once they exited the dining hall, though, it immediately became evident that they were not actually heading up to the dorms. Hermione dragged her into the nearest bathroom before casting a quick silencing charm.

“Myrtle! Are you in here?” Only when she was sure silence was the only response to her question, she seemed satisfied to turn to Y/N and begin talking. “When were you going to tell me that you have a thing for Malfoy?”

“I’m sorry, what?” Y/N felt the heat that had risen to her cheeks from the last quill-encounter re-emerge.

“You know exactly what I’m talking about,” said Hermione. “Are you seriously going to expect me to believe that you nearly sobbed over some random pureblood git telling you you never had a chance with him because it might slow down your progress with helping us? Actually? I’ve seen you look more ecstatic about hearing that your dear granny passed away.”

“To be fair, she had really good life insurance,” Y/N cut in. “And she was an old hag. Never had a nice thing to say to me.”

“Life insurance or no life insurance...you can’t seriously expect me to believe that you were just upset about not being able to help us as much. That was ridiculous. I don’t buy it. And the way you blushed like crazy when he came over to talk to you--the way you try and pretend like you can flirt...please. Y/N, it’s clear as day. I know you, and I know you have a crush on him.”

“Hermione!” hissed Y/N. “You have no clue what you’re talking about!”

“Yes, I think I do,” she pushed. “And you need to be honest with me if you want to be of any help right now.”

Her bossiness lit a fire of rage in Y/N’s chest, but she sucked in a deep breath, shutting her eyes before releasing it. “Believe me when I say I haven’t ever acknowledged any feelings I may or may not have towards him.”

“Ok.” Her face softened. “I know it might take time, but I honestly do think I’m right. Please just...be careful. This is a really odd situation to get caught up in if you actually have feelings for the other person. You’re trying to manipulate him, for Merlin’s sake.”

“And if I have these feelings for him, I’ve done a pretty damn good job of suppressing them for however long they’ve been here.”

Hermione sighed. “That’s true. I’m just saying that spending this much time with him is probably only going to make things worse. Will you please tell me if anything changes between the two of you?”

“Anything changes?” Y/N’s voice was dripping in disbelief. “You’re joking. Even if I was obsessed with him I don’t think there’s ever a chance of hell in anything ‘changing’ between us. He said it himself.”

“You know what I mean, Y/N,” responded Hermione. “Just promise me, ok?”

“Ok,” said Y/N. “I promise.”

That seemed to satiate Hermione as she nodded approvingly at her friend. “I think it goes without saying that Ron and Harry shouldn’t hear about this.”

“There’s nothing to hear about, but yes.” She shuffled her feet before meeting Hermione’s eyes again. “Er, I’m sorry for this being a weird question, but would you mind coming along with me and Harry to Hogsmeade? I don’t really see him like...that...and I don’t want to read into it too much and reject him if he is doing it just platonically, but just in case. Y’know.”

“Sure,” said Hermione, even though her face took on that curious expression yet again. “Anyways, you actually did forget something--you’re not wearing a single piece of Gryffindor colors for our game today. You should probably run back to your dorm before Harry and Ron notice.”

After they said their goodbyes, Y/N found herself turning over the things Hermione had said to her in her head. Did she like Malfoy? No, no fucking way. But a part of her really did think he was funny. And of course it was natural to feel rejected when anyone insinuates that they’d never consider you as a romantic interest without jest.

Once she’d made it up to her room and grabbed a few scarves, Y/N made to put her red cloak into her satchel. Her fingers ghosted over the box that Malfoy had given her and scoffed once she saw the Malfoy crest engraved into the rich wood.

Narcissistic snot.

Her curiosity got the better of her as she reached over to open up the elaborately decorated box. What met her was not just one quill but two--one of which was most certainly not her own.

She took them both out, tossing the old one in a pile with her other trusty familiar white feather quills and picked up the other one. It looked familiar--identical to the quill that she’d complimented Malfoy on in Potions about a week ago. Butterflies began to flutter like crazy in her stomach as she turned it over in her hand, watching the gray and green glitter together and the magic sparkles cast a gentle light over her bed. She generally avoided dipping into her family’s pockets to get school supplies any more than she had to--it’s not like it made her friends feel good about themselves when they were reminded how rich her family was--but this might be what she could consider to be an exception. She hadn’t even liked his quill all that much when she first saw it in Potions--but it was one of those things that was so noticeable that it made sense to compliment him.

She gave it one last look before tucking it back away into the elaborately decorated box. Perhaps she had spoken too soon when she’d told Hermione all hope was lost.

When Monday morning Potions class with the Slytherins rolled around, Y/N wasted no time. Malfoy was alone--even his Slytherin lackeys seemed to know not to bother him. Just what she needed.

“Malfoy,” she greeted, setting her bag down on his table and looking him dead on. He raised to meet her eyes, his eyebrow raised.

“Can I help you?”

“I just wanted you to know that I also really like your immense fortune,” she said. “And your manor.”

“Well, a lot of people do,” he mumbled as he looked away to dig through something in his bag. If she didn’t know any better, she would’ve thought he was blushing.

“I’m just letting you know,” she continued. “In case you were wanting to give them away. It worked for the quill, so I thought, well, why not?”

He exhaled, a deep and annoyed sound escaping his lips as he rolled his eyes up to the ceiling. “I knew I shouldn’t have done that.”

“You really didn’t have to.”

“I was getting sick of it,” he told her. “I never can stick with one quill for too long, and I thought it’d be a shame to toss it. I thought it’d be better to be charitable--it’s not like your family could get an appointment at Barnaby’s if they tried.”

“Hey!” Y/N said indignantly. “You don’t know that!”

“I’ve heard your parents try to speak French,” he said. “If you’re anything like them, you'll be barred from ever entering the country.”

“Malfoy!”

His lips turned up into a smile, a soft laugh escaping his lips. Y/N suppressed the urge to grin in return. Task 3? Done. “What?”

“I can’t even argue with you,” she said. “It’s tragic.”

She stared at the empty stool next to him, wondering if she should just take the leap and sit with him. Malfoy seemed unbothered by her presence as he opened up his Potions book and set it next to his cauldron. “Do you want a partner?” The words left her lips before she could stop them.

He cast her a curious look before glancing at the empty stool. “It depends. Are you going to be annoying?”

She gasped in faux-offense. “What makes you think I could ever be annoying?”

“On that note, I think you better get back to Potter.” He motioned with his head towards the side of the room where most of her Gryffindor friends were chatting. Harry was staring at her, his fists clenched by his side.

Y/N smirked and sent him a wink.

“On that note,” she said, careful to imitate Malfoy’s drawl and sending him a smug grin, “Maybe I better sit here.”

“Hm.” He awarded her one more uninterested look before rolling up his sleeves and setting out the ingredients for the potion they were brewing--Amortentia.

She tried not to make it too obvious that she was staring at his left arm, but there was nothing on it like Harry had told her. It was just pure, unblemished pale skin that shimmered under the light. Before he could catch her looking, she quickly sat down and started pulling out her own things. After a short pause, she decided to take out the silver quill. She’d left his box back in her room--she wouldn’t be caught dead with something that had the Malfoy crest on it--but she’d wrapped it in a pouch with her own family’s emblem on the front, shimmering in gold and red.

“Why don’t you just buy your own charmed quills?” asked Malfoy after they had chopped all of the gillweed.

“You already know. We’re an abomination to the French. We aren’t allowed entry.”

“That’s not what I mean.” His tone was meant to read as exasperated, but his words still seemed good-natured.

“I...well.” She frowned. She’d never confessed this to anyone, but she supposed that Malfoy wasn’t going to find a way to use it against her. “I don’t like to flaunt my family wealth. I think it makes people, at least in Gryffindor, like me less. I learned that pretty early on.”

He hummed something in response before sliding all the gillweed into the cauldron, turning the clear liquid into a bubbling forest green.

“Why are you being so nice to me all of a sudden?” she asked.

He took his time finishing the note he was jotting down before he answered. “I’m not being nice. It’s just called being civil. You said it yourself, we see each other at balls sometimes.”

“We probably won’t anymore, though,” she mused.

Malfoy’s eyebrows shot up, but his voice remained low and steady. “No. I suppose that we probably won’t. Is your family part of the Order?”

“Hm. Are you a Death Eater?” she asked brazenly. He had no business asking her something like that, and he knew it. Especially not with his family connections.

“What do you think?” he drawled, waving his bared left arm in front of her face.

“Bullshit. That doesn’t mean anything after we learned Glamour spells last year.”

“Guess you’ll just have to trust me, then,” he responded, focusing intently on the bubbling liquid in front of him instead of her face.

“I guess so,” she replied. The weight of her Glamour comment began to sink in--she was right, after all. How had she not thought of it before?

But he was right when he told her she just had to trust him. Could she? Y/N rested her chin in the palm of her propped hand as she watched him work. A piece of disobedient moonbeam blonde hair dangled over his forehead as he diced up the unicorn tail, his eyebrows furrowed in focus.

“Is this why you want to be my partner?” he finally asked after a few moments of silence. “So you can just stare at me while I do all the work?”

“There’s the vain Draco I know,” she said, grinning as she leaned over to punch his shoulder.

He rolled his eyes again, scooting out of arm's reach before flipping back to Amortentia in his book. “You’re insufferable. And it’s Malfoy to you.”

“Fine, fine, Malfoy,” said Y/N. “What do you want me to do, then?”

He shoved his cutting board towards her, the half-diced unicorn tail staring up at her. “Finish dicing this and then stir it in. 9 times clockwise. I did almost all of the work, but it should be finished after that.”

Y/N sent him another glare before doing as he said. The glittering quill kept catching her attention from the corner of her eye, and she couldn’t help but notice that Malfoy was writing with just a plain white quill for the time being. HE really did just give it to me.

After the final ingredients were diced, she began to stir, each rotation around the cauldron turning the potion to a different color. It began as the bubbling green, then a deep sea blue, then a royal purple, a crimson blood red, a glimmering gold--before settling into a pale silver.

“Wow. It’s beautiful,” she breathed. “It’s like...liquid starlight.”

“All thanks to me,” said Malfoy. “You didn’t even have to crush the Mandrake root.”

“You’re such a gentleman, Malfoy.” Her voice dripped in fake sincerity. “So, what do you smell?”

Y/N was expecting him to scowl at her and tell her that it wasn’t any of her business, but he actually leaned over the cauldron and shut his eyes.

“I’ve never been good at explaining what things smell like.”

“Fair.”

Once he leaned back, she took his place, shutting her eyes and breathing in a tendril of the beautiful potion. “Whoa.”

“What’s it for you?”

“I don’t...know,” she admitted. “It’s not something I can describe note by note. It kind of reminds me of something, though.”

“Something with Potter, I presume?” he said, casually twirling his generic white quill around his fingers.

“No,” she answered, surprised at how honest she was being. “It’s…I’m trying to think. Er, it’s very lavish. It reminds me of when I was younger and my parents would drag me to galas and balls and whatnot.”

He stared at her in silence.

“What about you? Does it remind you of anything?”

“Yeah.” Malfoy reached forward to put a lid on the cauldron, effectively shutting out the steam from reaching either of them.

“Ooh, have you figured it out yet?” she teased, crossing her legs and turning to face him head on. “Let me guess. Is it someone like…”

She paused, a wicked smile stretching across her face. “Oh my god, is it Hermione? Or Luna? Or...help me out here!”

“No.” His voice was sour.

“Ah, it’s Parkinson then, isn’t it? Tell her I’m sorry for throwing food at her if you ever have the chance. Make sure to add the part where I’m more sorry that I missed.”

“Y/L/N!”

“It’s okay. I’d be a little let down, too.”

“Can you please just…” He rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Please just stop. I haven’t figured it out. Okay? Happy now?”

“I’ll leave you alone,” said Y/N. “Under one condition. You give me a hint. I’ve given you everything I know! This isn’t fair.”

“This doesn’t have to be fair,” he hissed.

Y/N kept the easy smile plastered on her face while she waited, her eyebrows raised in anticipation.

“You’re not going to let up until I tell you, are you?”

“You’d be right on that,” she said, sugary sweet.

“Fine. It’s something kind of floral.”

“How descriptive,” she snorted as she slumped back in her stool, thinking hard. Where had she smelled it before? Y/N shut her eyes, leaning her head back and trying to immerse herself into the memory that had surfaced. It smelled like grandeur, like an open ballroom full of guests wearing expensive perfumes. She could feel spinning, spinning like she was with a dance partner. Who was it? She couldn’t quite remember--the last ball she’d been to had been years ago--but after she leaned forward and smelled the Amortentia once more time, she came to a conclusion.

“I had to have danced with him at a gala before,” she announced to Malfoy, who was looking quite unimpressed. “So I know it’s no one from Gryffindor.”

“Interesting,” was all he said before turning to his parchment and jotting something down.

Late that night, while Y/N was settling into bed, a strange idea struck her. Sure that the thought that was nagging her was completely fruitless, she had no trouble with reaching into her desk and pulling out the Malfoy box. She just had to check if she wanted to sleep well.

Here goes.

She closed her eyes, imagining the expensive scent of her Amortentia. Then she opened it, stuck her nose into the fabric, and breathed in.

Well, fuck.

The internal debate going through Y/N the next day at the breakfast table was intense. On one hand, she really, really wanted to just tell Hermione that Malfoy had been in her Amortentia and she was completely fucked, but on the other…

She glanced at the witch next to her as she methodically sliced her toast into perfect, equivalent squares before dunking them in jam. Y/N liking Malfoy was not going to fit into her toast cubes. If she said anything, she would lose her excuse to talk to her about him. And her excuse to try and get close with him.

Perhaps I can figure it out tomorrow.

When tomorrow came, she still hadn’t made progress. Y/N was beginning to think that her so called “revelation” after they brewed Amortentia was truly just complete and utter bullshit. So what that his quill box smelled like it--all rich people kind of smelled the same at some points, and so did their houses. There was a reason why she couldn’t immediately pin the scent to anything--it wasn’t like she even knew what Malfoy smelled like.

But the truth remained that she was still attracted to someone who happened to be a rich Slytherin--so naturally, her mind began to wander. There’s no way it was Zabini--his mother owned a fragrance line, and she would’ve instantly recognized the cologne that she knew Mrs. Zabini made him wear--and there was absolutely no way that it was Crabbe or Goyle, so the only other Slytherin it left was...Nott? But that didn’t make sense either--she’d never spoken to him before in her life, even less than Malfoy. So perhaps it would be better if she didn’t think on it.

The next day of potion brewing came on a stormy Wednesday. Malfoy and Y/N worked silently together to brew a Draught of Dreamless Sleep. She was surprised to see how practiced his movements were--he didn’t even have to reference the book to recite the exact measurements and directions.

“Do you have bad dreams or something?” she asked, mostly as a joke. He didn’t seem to pick up on the light-heartedness and stiffened up.

“No?”

“Gee, you’re talkative today,” Y/N said, trying to ignore how her hand brushed his by accident when she added the scoop of anjelica.

“Excuse me for not entertaining you,” he drawled. “I wasn’t expecting to have such a needy potions partner today.”

“I am not needy!” she gasped, smacking his arm. “I’ve sat in silence for a full hour!”

He rolled his eyes (he was always rolling his eyes) and gave the potion one more final stir before setting the lid on the cauldron. “Think you can do that again? It needs to simmer for that long.”

“Just because you’re so sweet to me,” crooned Y/N before pulling out a heavy book from her satchel. Her Charms exam was tomorrow, and, naturally, she had decided to save all of her revising work until the night before. The textbook stared back at her as she jotted a few notes onto a previously blank sheet of parchment. The quill in her hands was light and glided across the paper like the tears of Merlin, something that she had forgotten quills could do. All of her familiar basic quills were okay, but they were prone to skidding and breaking. This nib hadn’t worn down in the slightest, still at a smooth and defined peak.

Y/N couldn’t believe that, out of all people, the person to give her such a thoughtful gift was Draco Malfoy. She tried to sneak a glance at him then, moving her curtain of hair away from her face. It took all she had in her to not be startled at the fact that he was already looking back, a slightly concerned expression etched into his face.

“Is something wrong?”

He snapped out of it the moment the words left her lips, his face hardening. “No.”

“Forget I ever asked,” she responded, turning away from him for good and focusing on her textbook. No, there was no way he could be what she smelled in her Amortentia. She liked to think that her subconscious wasn’t secretly a masochist.

Friday evening swung around again, much to Y/N’s dismay. She’d had a talk with Hermione later on in the week, confirming that no, she did not smell Malfoy in her Amortentia, and that yes, she was still abiding by the plan that Hermione had so carefully laid out for her. It did bother her a bit that she could be lying to her on both fronts--but at the end of the day, she was going to get the answers that Harry wanted, no matter what.

She just had to get through the scary ass castle first. She’d forgotten how spooky Hogwarts was after her previous sprint to the door, and this time she was positively trembling by the time she turned another dark corner on her way to McGonagall’s office. Yet another cursed item had been found in the girl’s lavatory on the 3rd floor, right by some of the classes that she had taken earlier in the week. The fact that whoever was out there was capable of dark magic and actively wanted to hurt people terrified her, all that Gryffindor bravery be damned.

So when she heard footsteps suddenly right beside her, it was no wonder that she jumped feet in the air.

“Fuck!” she sputtered, turning to see a very familiar blonde in Slytherin robes. He was frozen in place, curiously looking her up and down.

“Am I interrupting something?”

“Malfoy,” Y/N said, resisting the urge to melt into a puddle of relief at the sight. This wasn’t right--wasn’t he a suspected Death Eater? “You scared me.”

He scoffed, digging his hands into his pockets. “You’re supposed to be the brave ones, right?”

“Huh?”

Malfoy motioned to her Gryffindor jumper.

“Oh.” Heat rushed to her cheeks as she realized what he meant. “I dunno. I just get jumpy around the castle at night.”

“No shit.” They’d begun to walk now, side by side. Y/N couldn’t remember ever walking with him before--she’d always been late. “Do you think I forgot the way you screamed when you saw me at the tower?”

“Shut up,” she grumbled, reaching over and giving him a healthy shove.

They walked in silence together. Malfoy moved noticeably slower than he normally did so he wouldn’t leave Y/N’s shorter legs in tow. McGonagall seemed pleasantly surprised to see Malfoy hold the door open for her.

“I’m glad to see you two getting along,” she said, giving Y/N a hesitant nod before grabbing the stack of papers on her desk. “I’ll be back momentarily.”

After she exited the room with a swish of her deep maroon robes, Malfoy turned to her. “Are you scared of the dark or something?”

She turned, ready to send a biting retort his way, before she noticed how gray his pallor looked...and how big the circles under his eyes were. “You look like shit, Malfoy. Is everything okay?”

He rolled his eyes. “Don’t change the subject.”

“Oh. Um…” Y/N pause before deciding that the little tidbit of information she was about to reveal wasn’t that important anyways. “I’m just on edge at night at Hogwarts is all. Especially with all that weird shit going on with all the cursed objects. So I kind of hate walking to and from detention.”

Malfoy let out something that sounded like a strained laugh.

“You didn’t answer my question. Is everything okay?”

“None of your business,” he snipped. “I just had a bad night.”

“Do you have trouble sleeping?” she asked, unable to keep herself from prying.

“Something like that.”

“Have you tried lavender?”

“I’m sorry?” He frowned.

“Lavender. Like the essential oil. It’s nothing magical,” she explained. “I just like to spray it in my bed sometimes before I sleep. Or I’ll use a few drops in a diffuser. I have trouble sleeping too, all the time, actually.” She shut her mouth before she had any chance to ramble further.

“It sounds a bit too floral for my taste.”

“Here.” Y/N dug around in her satchel, searching for the tiny spray bottle she kept with her at all times. “Borrow this and spritz your pillow with it before you sleep, and then tell me it’s too floral. I promise it helps.”

He glared at her. She extended her hand with the white bottle that was covered in purple decor, raising her eyebrows expectantly. “I won’t tell anyone that you have it if that’s what you’re worried about or whatever.”

“Fine,” he snapped, snatching it from her hand and dragging his fingers over her palm for just a second. “Don’t expect me to actually try it, though.”

“Just give it a sniff.”

He huffed, but to her surprise, he actually uncapped the top and held the spray hole up to his nose, inhaling in once.

The effect was immediate. Malfoy’s face completely drained of color, becoming even grayer than he’d been when she first saw him under the light. The briefest expression of surprise fleeted over his face before he wiped it off, replacing it with something unreadable and tossing it back at her. “I’m not using this.”

“Why not?”

“Not quite my taste,” he spat.

Y/N was shocked by the sudden outburst, watching as he continued to glower at his desk. “I don’t understand. It really does help you sleep. I know it seems stupid, but I...really think you should try it. Just once, if anything.”

“Why does it matter so much to you?”

“Because I--” Y/N stopped herself before she let her mouth run without check. “I know what it’s like is all. I feel like shit if I don’t sleep. Plus, I have to spend time with you every Friday. I imagine that you’ll be slightly more tolerable if you sleep more.”

“Hm.” He sent her a particularly venomous glare. “Thanks for your concern. Consider me uninterested, though.”

“You break my heart,” she teased, pulling back her hand and placing the bottle on the corner of her desk. An idea struck her.

“And just what are you smiling about?” Draco said. His lips were turned into a sour frown.

“Nothing, nothing,” she responded, her voice adopting a sing-song quality. All she had to do now was wait.

He exhaled, a deep and exasperated sound. Then he turned back to whatever was in front of him.

McGonagall entered the room a few minutes later, nodding cordially at the comfortable silence the two students were in. What she didn’t know was that Y/N was waiting, just waiting for Malfoy to dig through his satchel and stop paying attention to his quill.

She got her opportunity a few minutes later, when McGonagall called him up to look over his latest Transfiguration homework.

“Mr. Malfoy, I’m happy to see that you’re taking more initiative in getting your assignments done...I have to say that you had me a bit concerned…”

While her professor kept Malfoy occupied, Y/N darted over and grabbed his quill.

Ha.

Malfoy frowned down at his desk when he returned, giving Y/N a suspicious look.

“What is it, Malfoy?” she said, hoping her voice conveyed nothing that might hint that she took something of his.

“Nothing.”

“Hm.”

The rest of detention passed without any more discussion. Y/N was eager to run up to her dorm and set up her plan to be carried out the next morning, but she calmed her bouncing leg and forced herself to keep a straight face when McGonagall dismissed them.

“Got somewhere to be, Y/L/N?” Malfoy’s voice called after her as she sped down the hall towards the Gryffindor tower.

“What’s it to you?” she fired back.

He didn’t respond. Instead, he picked up his pace until he was walking next to her.

“Aren’t the Slytherin dorms the other direction?” she asked.

“I don’t know. Are they?”

She allowed herself to be amused by the way words flowed out of his mouth when he was slightly out of breath. “Why are you walking with me?”

“You said it yourself.” He kept his eyes cast on the cobblestones below them. “You don’t like walking alone at night.”

“Uh...oh.” Against her will, her feet froze and she was glued to the ground. “You’re joking, right?”

If the lighting wasn’t so dim, Y/N would have good reason to believe he was blushing with how intently he was studying his fingernails. “By all means, I can be.”

“No! No, I didn’t mean it like that,” she said, the words tumbling out of her mouth. “Er...I’d like you to. If you want to, that is.”

He shrugged, an elfish expression spreading across his face as he took in how nervous she was. “Well, come to think of it, you didn’t ask me to. I suppose I better get back to the Slytherin dorms anyways. I wouldn’t want to be anywhere near the Gryffindor Tower right now.”

“Why?” she squeaked.

“Oh, you know, I don’t think it’s a coincidence that most of the cursed things showed up on your side of the castle, yeah?”

She gulped.

“I gotta get going. Don’t want to stand around here too long. This place gives me the creeps.” With that, he turned and began walking away.

“Malfoy?” She hated how timid her voice sounded. “Consider this me asking you to walk with me.”

He slowly faced her, a sly grin plastered all over his face. “Oh? Did I hear that correctly? Do you want me to?”

“I’m only going to say this once,” she said, putting her hands on her hips and trying her best to look intimidating. “Walk with me. Please.”

“I guess I’ll take it.” Malfoy glided down the hallway to her in just a couple steps, sending her yet another smug look.

“You made up that whole ordeal about Gryffindor Tower being targeted, didn’t you?” asked Y/N as they rounded the corner to reach the staircase leading up to the common room.

“You bought it, didn’t you?”

“Who says I didn’t just want you to walk with me?” pushed Y/N. This was as close to flirting as it would ever get for her--but it looked like, somehow, things were falling into place. The heat in her cheeks must’ve been from the excitement of making progress.

Malfoy’s toe caught on the first stair and, if it weren’t for Y/N’s steady grip on his arm, would’ve made him go sprawling across the stone steps.

“Merlin, Malfoy,” she said, immediately dropping her grip from his shoulder. “What’s gotten into you?”

He responded with an unceremonial snort and a withering glare. The rest of the walk was done in silence, and Y/N noted how careful his footwork became around the Gryffindor steps.

“This is me,” she finally said once they reached the tapestry for the Gryffindor dorms. He seemed surprised, and only then did it strike her that he’d probably never seen the entrance himself before. “Thanks for being such a gentleman.”

“I live to serve,” he drawled.

And just like that, he was gone.

Her plan was simple. She had located an extra monogrammed pouch in her cabinet, a rich mahogany color with her family crest in a vivid gold, and placed both his quill and the lavender bottle. She would corner him after breakfast or follow him out of the Great Hall and show him then.

However, it was becoming increasingly obvious that Malfoy was not coming to Saturday morning breakfast. Many people didn’t, but Y/N had never known him to miss it. His normal spot was vacant, and it certainly wasn’t a house-made decision as all of his Slytherin friends were present and accounted for. Y/N couldn’t say for sure, but she could see Parkinson turning her head to the entrance every time the doors thudded open before glancing back to Malfoy’s empty seat when it turned out to be someone else.

Where was that loser?

“Excuse me,” she said to the trio as she stood up and brushed off her skirt. “I think I’m going to go get some fresh air. I have a bitch of a headache.”

Hermione and Harry expressed their sympathies while Ron gave her a characteristic mumble through his mouthful of bread, and she was off with the pouch secured in her cloak pocket.

It was a clear November morning, clearly Mother Nature’s attempt to slowly move the world from the crisp autumn to a cold winter. The sky was clear and the sun’s rays warmed her skin at a slanted angle, casting weak shadows across the courtyard.

If I were Malfoy, where would I go to sulk?

The obvious answer was either the Slytherin common room or his own dorm, but that was without a doubt out of question for her. She wasn’t even sure if she possessed the knowledge to guess which corridor the entrance was in, much less work out the password herself. Beyond that, just getting into the common room and waiting would be...She shivered. It would be a terrible idea while she was clearly wearing a cloak in Gryffindor red and gold trim.

As she continued her aimless wander around the castle, she heard the slightest sound from the girl’s bathroom on the second floor. It wasn’t ever really in use--no one came in there to actually use the loo unless they wanted Myrtle to materialize and tell them her supernatural troubles while they were in the middle of their personal business--but it was often the source of strange happenings.

Like the cursed objects she thought to herself, her nails digging into her palms. But did she care about that right now? Surely cursed objects seemed somewhat...suspicious. Dark magic was difficult to hide, and to a pureblood eye that grew up around magical objects, cursed things shouldn’t be impossible to spot.

And, plus, it was Malfoy she was looking for. None of the students had died from the curses so far, and if she was able to break through and learn something, or at the very least gain his trust, the reward to the Order would be more than worth it.

She stepped in, expecting to see an entirely empty bathroom with perhaps a ghost rattling around at the sink. Instead, a different sight awaited her.

Draco Malfoy was clutching the edge of the cracked sink basin in front of him, rocking himself back and forth and shaking. From her vantage point, she could see that he was dressed in his normal garb--a black ensemble--but his hair was unruly and messy, sticking up in the back like he’d hurriedly tugged something over his head.

A strangled gasp grounded her and halted her curious observations. Malfoy began to make these awful sobbing sounds, like he could barely manage to breathe.

Y/N was frozen in place as she surveyed her options. If she stayed and tried to talk to him, he might react in anger or hurt her. But if she just left him, like this, all alone...She swallowed once before stepping forward.

“Malfoy? Are you okay?” Obviously he’s not, you bint said a voice deep in her brain. She pushed it aside as he swung around, his wand raised and his eyes blazing. “Whoa! I’m not going to...Put your wand down!”

He stared at her, his eyes wide with horror as he continued to shake, so much so that his wand slipped out of his hand and clattered to the floor. Without thinking, Y/N reached into her pocket and flung her wand away, holding her hands up.

“I’m not going to try anything. I promise.”

As she drew closer, she could see the remnants of tears on his wet cheeks and the way that his silver eyes were rimmed with a bloodshot red.

“You shouldn’t be here,” he hissed, his voice weak and cracking.

“Neither should you. This is the girl’s bathroom.”

final a/n: ok so lmk if you guys wants me to continue. i really did not edit the last half fjkdsal;f also kinda made this an au where malfoy tried to assassinate dumbledore. with more than one cursed object but dw it’ll all make sense ill clear that up 😭

#draco malfoy #draco x reader #draco malfoy x reader #draco imagine #draco malfoy imagine #draco x you #draco #draco malfoy x you #draco x y/n #draco malfoy x y/n #draco x oc #draco malfoy x oc

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