#//throw short people day? this holiday is BULLYING

[artytaeh]

⋯ ⋯ ﹒ 🪻 ’

MATTHEO RIDDLE— not horribly tall, but slightly above average. strong arms; what he doesn't have of height like the weasley twins, he has of muscles on his arms, even though not a ken-like amount, which he finds ugly. dark curls— inherited by his mother, the insanely crazy bellatrix lestrange, and beautiful eyes that he has no clue where he got from. long lashes, defined jawline.

in short, a handsome, easily found attractive, young man. and with that bad boy attitude? well, mattheo riddle is every girl's guilty pleasure of a daydream.

some, because they'd like to have their attitude and confidence fucked out of them, by mattheo riddle who certainly takes no bullshit. others, because they delusionally believe that they can somehow fix him— turning a doberman into a golden retriever.

mattheo riddle who's the only first year to not tremble under snape's gaze, because his father is voldemort. the thing, the person he fears the most.

mattheo riddle who doesn't even blink when teachers, older students and even intimidating people yell at him— this is child's play, compared to the cold, frightening aura of his father, and the eery sound of his mother talking to him; one second, she's calm, putting on a (scary) loving persona— then, she's raging, yelling and slamming things, hands on the table, almost throwing hands at her son.

mattheo riddle who stands on the end of the line, letting students get in front of him and even threatening some to take his place on the line, so he stands further behind. this only happens once, during that one professor lupin's class, with the boggart— because mattheo knows that it'd take the shape of his father, walking eerily towards him. not only does he hate the thought of having his classmates gossiping about him, about his family and making even more assumptions about him; but also knows that he'd stand there, paralyzed. incapable of even raising his wand, much less utter such an easy spell like riddikulus. for mattheo, what's ridiculous is his situation; how he'd love and thank the heavens, if he could have such a silly fear like insects, ghosts, or even clowns.

mattheo riddle who grows extremely confident because nothing scares him at hogwarts; after all, his father isn't there— the only thing that makes mattheo riddle tremble is his presence. anything else isn't half as frightening as coming back home to his mother, bellatrix lestrange, and father, voldemort he-who-must-not-be-named.

mattheo riddle who becomes scary and intimidating, so that no one can scare or intimidate him instead. he spent most of his third year at hogwarts practicing on the mirror— a way to turn his beautiful eyes into a dead stare, making sure that the shining glint of his eyes disappears, to become so scary, that no one would dare to mess with him like tom riddle does. or even draco malfoy, who tried to do this back on their first year, bullying mattheo into becoming his friend and follower—, but all of this was before they became genuine friends, along with theodore, lorenzo and blaise.

mattheo riddle who's known by the unhinged brother, less smart riddle— while others, who are aware of tom riddle's tendencies, call him the older psychopath brother, brilliant riddle. such a charming pair of siblings, aren't they?

mattheo riddle who smokes a whole package of cigarettes with theodore nott, when they're on the train back home. for holidays and for summer vacation, in silence, because they're too anxious and nervous to come back home, to leave their (although they're too proud to admit) safe place — hogwarts.

mattheo riddle who respects his older brother, tom riddle, because he thinks that in many ways, tom is like their father sometimes. and that scares him.

mattheo riddle who only learned how to swim and to stop fearing lakes, when his slytherin friends teached him.

( this happened on lorenzo's house, since he invited his friends to spend some days there, during summer vacation. after all, his parents are the less... frightening, in a way, and blaise zabini gatekeeps his mother from his friends, for obvious reasons. besides, lorenzo has the largest pool! upon realizing that mattheo stayed behind while they played in the swimming pool, the boys, for once, didn't turn the situation into a joke. draco stood behind, throwing opinions and dictating that they were doing it wrong— while theodore and blaise stood each by mattheo's side, making sure that he wouldn't get scared if he felt like he was drowning, while lorenzo is in front of him, advising on what to do. it was a mess. a mess that became a core memory of true friendship. )

even so, mattheo hates to go to a point of the lake where he's no longer tall enough to touch the sandy surface— because suddenly he's seven years old again, with tom riddle standing on the edge of the lake, smiling darkly at the sight of his baby brother drowning in the cold water.

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mattheo riddle who, after all of these years, still stares at his older brother with a mixture of resentment and sorrow— secretly, mattheo still wishes to be close with tom. to have a normal brotherly friendship with him, even if they're everything but a normal family. so, mattheo riddle, who envies pairs of siblings whenever he sees them around hogwarts halls, hugging, lightheartedly bullying each other. wishing he could trauma dump shared experiences of his parents with tom, who would've demolished inch after inch of mattheo's pride and feelings, calling him weak.

mattheo riddle who doesn't join draco when he bullies the weasleys. he never defends them either; he doesn't need to, because the redhead siblings stick around for each other. mattheo doesn't know if his heart feels like crying, or ripping apart with a vicious, angry jealousy that he doesn't have that. a sibling that cares enough to take care of him.

mattheo riddle who drinks and drinks and drinks until he passes out, or until he almost throws up his stomach away— rarely accepting any kind of help whatsoever, because he doesn't feel like he deserves it.

because pain and finding out a way to solve things by himself, is what he grew up used to. because his mother is a bipolar, sadistic woman; because his father is too feared by mattheo for him to even dare to consider asking for his help; because his older brother, tom riddle, isn't a pillar he can lean on to— rather, a pillar that would glady fall on top of him, crushing him under debris. he's another person to be feared, and who'd leave mattheo even worse than he already is.

mattheo riddle, who hesitantly accepts lorenzo and theodore's help. because lorenzo is too much of a mother of the group (whenever blaise isn't around, but mattheo doesn't think he'd ever allow the zabini boy to help him either. of course, this happens whenever lorenzo isn't planning his way to another girl's bed either) and by far, the most caring of the boys. or at least, the one who easily shows his worry without a hundred walls surrounding his heart.

and theodore nott, well— mattheo thinks that the term best friend is too corny, so he settles to admit that theo is the person who understands him the most. if he doesn't have tom, he has theo, to sympathize with his shitty situation, because theo's family and hardships are too similar, even though they don't share a last name.

they have matching wounds, inflicted by different people, but similar situations.

and because theodore is awfully moody, sarcastic and would punch mattheo into reason, well— mattheo unwillingly accepts theodore's (forceful) help.

· · ·

mattheo riddle who only ever has deep thoughts when he's throwing up from the alcohol, or becomes self-conscious of himself. of the evilness he provokes, of the unchanging way his fate was decided, as soon as he was conceived in his mother's womb. how he, no matter how he'd like to change, believes that he's a lost cause.

something that's not worth the effort, since mattheo riddle, younger brother of tom riddle, son of bellatrix lestrange and the dark lord himself, must have been born with a vicious evil heart. how could he not, with a family like this?

it must be on his dna. or so he believes.

when he's drunk, puke being wiped out from his lips and alone in the bathroom— this is the only time when mattheo riddle allows himself to pity himself. other than that, he'd scoff at the thought of doing so; because that's a weak thing to do.

and to survive his family, mattheo wouldn't dare to be weak a single day of his life. he might get killed if he allows a moment of weakness around his family. whatever family means, anyways.

⋯ ⋯ ﹒ 🪻 ’

mattheo riddle who's always the first one to start a fight— and never the one to end it. either his friends push him away, or he's held down by some spell casted by one of hogwarts' teachers.

however, he will start a fight with a group of five gryffindors, if they make a nasty comment about mattheo's friends. if they dare to assume, to gossip, to say one mean word about the friends that tolerate mattheo's behavior even on his shittiest days. the first thing he does is grab the last one talking by the collar, so that his fist naturally punches the guy's face. yes, mattheo can keep up a fight with five guys— even though he knows that, as much of a good and violent fighter as he is, there's no way that he won't leave with a few bruises (and bloody knuckles from rashly punching back and forth).

nevertheless, mattheo riddle won't ever allow theodore or his friends to join him, if he's about to have a 1v1. not even to intimidate or make a single threat— mattheo thinks that it's pathetic and coward to do so, which is why sometimes, mattheo doesn't help draco when he puts up a stunt against a single student (or a group that is outnumbered by malfoy's little friends). when draco comes back, mattheo won't scold him— but he won't shut up either, at least making sure that by some miracle, draco understands how coward it is to do that, from the sarcastic comment that mattheo throws with no hesitation.

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mattheo riddle who actually has one of the most beautiful smiles. once his usual dead stare is gone, showing how those dark eyes of his can look so sweet and bright— squinting into half moons, when he truly laughs or smiles genuinely. his smile is one that makes you think that maybe, just maybe, there isn't any evil or meanness to this slytherin boy.

mattheo riddle who is so touch starved, that only a warm gaze from you, is enough to melt him and (at least mentally) get him on his knees. those dark eyes soften and follow every movement of yours— looking like a lost puppy, when you eventually shift your attention to something else, your gaze leaving him. he won't grab you, he won't yell for your attention out of pride— but if you were to look into his eyes, you'd see how mattheo silently hopes to some deity that you'll have your attention on him once again.

mattheo riddle who doesn't know how to be gentle, because he never knew gentle touches, caresses and soft approaches. this man is almost stupid because of this sometimes— mattheo isn't even aware of his own strength, so when he does hurt you unintentionally (by grabbing holding your wrist) and gets scolded about it... he'll genuinely look at you, confused. sure, he'll apologize— fine, sorry!

. . . however, mattheo isn't sure what he did wrong. was it really that hurtful? to him, he was simply holding you, not grabbing...

( because mattheo riddle was never held, only yanked or dragged along. )

mattheo riddle who would love to have people playing with his hair. twirl his curls around your fingers, tug at it (but gently, please! he easily complains at the slightest hint of discomfort!), massage his scalp, caress his dark hair— mattheo melts and for a moment, wonders if sleep does arrive to him this fast at night, like it does now that you're touching him there.

so yes, during classes, mattheo sneakily stands on the door frame— carefully watching where you decide to take your seat, before he marches up to you so he can take the other chair of said desk.

mattheo marches confidently, hands on his pockets and body a little bend to the front; focused on his target: you.

all of his concentration is locked on his goal: your attention for the whole class. and if he's too late, because some annoying girl or asshole with pants got there before him? one glare from mattheo, and they're gone.

mattheo doesn't even bother to take his books; he greets, crosses his arms on top of the table, settles his head there— and if you're too slow to understand what's this whole preparation for, well, mattheo has no problem to make his intentions clear, by (much gentler, this time) grabbing your hand and settling it on his head. among his dark curls.

and if you notice that they look softer and taken care of— well, mattheo won't be catch dead and much less alive saying it. but blaise noticed how mattheo bought a new shampoo, conditioner and a weird bottle that seems to help curly hair like mattheo's.

AND HOW DID AN ALL-IN-ONE SHAMPOO USER LIKE MATTTHEO, KNEW WHAT PRODUCTS TO USE IN WHICH ORDER, FROM DAY TO NIGHT? oh, that was easy; mattheo spent an evening leaning against the entrance of the slytherin common room, watching intently every student that entered or left during that hour of the day. his eyes glared up and down— searching for a slytherin, be it a witch or a wizard, older or younger than him, that has a type of hair similar (if not identical) to his.

finally, a slytherin girl was on her way to hang out with her friends. that is, until mattheo nonchalantly grabs her by the collar of her shirt, right when she innocently passes by him, then drags the girl along with him to a secluded corner of the slytherin common room.

( out of love for life and respect for their well-being, it's safe to say that her friends didn't come to save her. though, props to them, because they kept watching... just in case. of, you know, having to search for help. )

the slytherin girl trembles on her spot, rethinking her life choices; wondering if she had done anything to offend mattheo riddle, the dark lord's son— not the psychopath, the unhinged one. when he bends down, so that he's face to face with her, eyes squinting with his jaw clenched...

she closes her eyes. wondering if she'd be punched or have her hair grabbed to be slammed against the wall. however, after awkward ten seconds pass and her body is still intact, she opens one eye, to see mattheo making a grimace.

a grimace that would be funny if he wasn't so scary. a grimace that seemed to ask, 'what the fuck are you doing?'. which would have been verbalized, mind you, if mattheo didn't have a list of priorities at the moment. he opens his mouth, and this slytherin girl feared to have hallucinated such an innocent, random question.

'which products do you use for your hair?'

( ten minutes later, after having explained her hair routine in detail to mattheo riddle himself, who took notes and hummed for her to keep going, the slytherin girl goes back to her friend group. pale. she doesn't give details— no one would believe her. and she doesn't think that mattheo riddle would like having people know that he's about to spend 100 galleons on hair products to please you. )

౨ৎ please understand that i'm trying my hardest, ♡ ͡

my head's a mess, but i'm trying regardless . . .

🪻 ; . . . fandom : harry potter.

— i noticed that i have a few mattheo girlies enjoying my writing, so! please consider this a little bittersweet drabble for you. once again, tysm for the feedback! ♥︎

the headers + gifs + icons aren't mine. credits to the respective creators ! 🌷

[diejager]

Can i make a request?

i thought of this yesterday what about y/n or the reader has been in 141 for 2 years now and one day 141 gets a new member konig but y\n or the reader is 26 and konig is 19 i feel like this has to be done😍😍

also konig: shy,sweet,tall,big,puppy like for the reader

reader: small,short,sassy,mommy🤭🤭

PLEASEEEE!!!!!

Young Cw: major canon divergence, bullying, intimidation, beating, protective reader, tell me if I missed any.

He hated attention, having people stare at him because he was tall —unnaturally so, towering over everyone despite his young age and timid and anti-social demeanour. He was grateful, really, after Laswell called in some favours to have him transferred from his platoon to a British Task Force as a trainee, someone on probation while he trained and learned how to integrate with the team. He worked well with them, the tall and muscular battering ram that opened up a path and shocked the enemy, working flawlessly beside to team, and yet, he couldn’t work up the energy or want to socialise with them, to open himself up and let them see the raw and softer part of his mind.

That, however, was the least of his problems, they were cordial - nice - with him, Soap and Gaz even went out of their way to include him in their banter, throwing jokes and good-minded laughs, Price acted as the protective figure of his team and extended it to him, Ghost - ever silent and glaring - didn’t mind looming over others and growling orders when someone overwhelmed him, and you were no stranger to threats and blackmail to get someone off his back. His problem, the biggest one, were the envious glares and insulting hisses older soldiers threw at him in hushed tones and occasionally glances when he found himself alone, either training or walking around.

Even in a place where he could let out all his aggression and pent up frustration, he was still victim to bullying, verbal rather than physical, no one would dare lay a hand on him when he was the youngest of the Task Force and under their protective eye. Despite the shielding from brutality, other men still found time and places to openly beat him down with demeaning and aggressive words, belittling his exploits, his awards and all his hard work to escape the hell of his little village (his Mutter was the only exception, he willingly went back on Holidays to see her).

“Look at that giant freak. Reckon he’d break if we put too much weight on him.”

“Bastard’s only here because he’s tall, that’s all he’s good at.”

“Aye, makes sense, never liked him. He might be a nepo baby, pop’s probably a powerful man.”

His Vater was a piece of shit that left him long before he was born, leaving his Mutter to fend for herself and rot away to feed and provide for him until he joined the army to care for her.

He didn’t want to give them more fuel, to retaliate meant more bullying, he learned that the hard way as a child. All König could do was take and take until they got bored, walking away from him to busy themselves with something else. That didn’t mean he didn’t get mad, frustrated or insulted, his hands curling into fists to hold itself back from pummelling them, they were his superiors, he’d be discharged or thrown out for hitting his superiors, especially since he was a foreigner and still new.

“Fuckin’ bastard is glaring.”

He was unknowingly glaring at them, he couldn’t help it, then he turned away, his gaze wandering to the floor before they’d escalate it. He heard one of them spit something out before he stomped towards König, shoulders and chest pushed out to seem bigger than they actually were in an attempt to intimidate him. Standing before him, he felt someone raise their fist, ready to strike him for simply glaring at them after months of being subjected to their intimidation. He was ready to stop them if needed, not a pushover or someone who’d take a beating quietly, eyes cued on the raised arm of an older man, but then he fell, moaning loudly as he fell to his knees.

“The fuck do you think you’re doing, huh?!” You appeared behind him, yelling out at the man you just kicked.

They were as surprised to see you, their faces draining of colour as the others scrambled to come up with an excuse. You snuck up on him as much as you did on them, using his height and size to your advantage to land your blow. You moved to stand before him, a shield to a man as tall as he was, protecting him with a vicious glare and damning words, and somehow, he found himself gripping onto the back of your jacket, your name printed on the back and the Task Force’s insignia on your sleeve.

“He was disrespecting us, Lieutenant!”

You didn’t hold back your disbelief, scoffing so loudly that other people had turned their attention to your group.

“Disrespecting? Do you take me for an idiot, Corporal? I’m no blind,” your words were silencing, sending them panicking for another reason to excuse their actions, something disbelieving or idiotic, “This isn’t the first time I’ve written you up to HR, Corporal Matt, Davis, Brown. You’ve done this many times with other operators, especially to König.”

“That’s because-”

“Save your fucking excuses and fuck off!” You nodded away, watching them scramble off.

Glee and smugness filled him, a disgusting feeling that he couldn’t help but enjoy, even as you huff and turn to look at him, head craned upwards to meet his eyes with soft adoration. You were always so warm and caring, as if you weren’t made to be the ruthless killer people made you out to be, but he’d seen you kill, the cold and calculated look in your eyes when you were deployed. You patted his arm, a smile gracing your lips as you reassured him that they wouldn’t bother him anymore.

”Time for dinner, yeah?”

He learned the next day that they were transferred to another base, seen packing up their bags with black eyes and bruises littering their bodies. Sparring, he heard from whispers, from one at to another, the word spread and he found his days quiet and anxiety-free.

“Danke, Leutnantin.”

“You know my name, König. I think you’ve earned the right to say it.”

Taglist: @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @bvxygriimes @distracteddragoness @konigsblog @im-making-an-effort @daisychainsinknots @0alk0msan @danielle143 @dont-mind-me-just-existing-sadly @tuttifuckinfruttifriday @notspiders @brokenpieces-72 @petwifed @aldis-nuts @randominstake @cassiecasluciluce @hayleybarnesx @shironasumi

[midniiights-garden]

Modern!Mizu General Headcanons!!

I have so many many ideas for Modern!Mizu omg you don't understand (I wish she was real...)

Ok, so first of all I wanna start out with some HCs about her past and her mother.

I think she probably grew up in rural Japan, her relationship with her mother basically still the same as in the show.

Due to not being exposed to very many foreigners her relationship with her peers was strained because of her blue eyes (ofc. hate discrimination smHHH)

Anyways, although Mizu doesn't have to hide her gender, and I personally headcanon that Modern!Mizu wouldn't hide it, she still has some internalized mysogyny.

This is namely due to the huge issue with sexisim in Japan, sexual harassment and sexualisation of women and so on. Mizu grew up wishing she was a boy because she didn't want to feel like a piece of meat to be eyed up and down and sold.

I HC that she meets the Swordfather when she attempted to run away from home. Probably due to another bullying incident or something.

In my head she actually moves to America or Europe to study something related to craftsmanship or to become a professional martial artist. It makes the most sense in my head at least.

She got into Uni on a scholarship lol. I mean, translated into a modern setting I do think her skill would be enough to warrant a large scholarship.

University was a rough time in the beginning for her due to the many changes that come with moving to a new country, as myself and most other third country kids will know.

Mizu had to juggle learning English, beating racist asshole and school all at the same time.

Due to her reluctance to socialize she also struggles to learn English in the verbal sense. She learned how to read and write in English much faster than to speak it because she had no one practice with. That, and she refused to talk to anyone.

As for how she met Mikio...

Modern!Mizu probably met him because he was a teacher at her Uni.

Long story short when he finds out how she was concieved and how strong he is, well, big strong man gets emasculated and throws a fit and Mizu leaves him (as she should)

And then she realises she's gay lol

I think it'd happen in a pretty similar fashion as to Canon!Mizu but you can look at my headcanons for those if you need them.

I think the main differences between Modern!Mizu and Canon!Mizu would primarily be in how she deals with her rage. Of course, Modern!Mizu isn't allowed the luxury of just stabbing people to get revenge so I believe she may resort to a lot of physical exertion in the gym or just a lot of lashing out towards people in general.

(A/N: Yayayayayya second post for the day!!! As usual, if anyone has any requests or anything feel free to ask!! Happy holidays everyone!!! <3)

[fandom-hoarder]

Grabbing these tags by @deanwinchesterpregnant from this post to expand.

Because yes, this is a very important part! Sam says it, too!

And while there ARE Sam haters that will say "Sam doesn't know how much Dean sacrificed!" and mean it as a JUDGEMENT and omg wooby!Dean; there are also people like me, who started writing s1 Sam POVs to understand him better, and suddenly connected him to my little brother like, 'OH. Sam doesn't KNOW. How COULD he know??😭' and it's not a judgment of his character or his love for Dean! And he's not stupid! They're both just kids who have yet to work through their own shit enough to realize they don't know EVERYTHING about each other, despite their shared history. It's part of why Sam says in In My Time of Dying that they were "just starting to be brothers again."

Obviously it's a necessary part of s1 to give us, the viewer, expositional glimpses into Sam and Dean's inner workings. But the way they each react to certain new revelations about each other are still canon even if there are Doylist reasons.

It's canon that Sam didn't know Dean carried him out of the fire. It's canon that Dean has felt responsible for Sam almost being eaten by a shtriga since he was 9/10 years old, and it's canon that Sam never even knew that happened. It's canon that the memory of Mary was so coveted by Dean and John that Sam has virtually no connection to her; no stories and no echoes of her in the way they live other than the infamous Winchester Surprise.

It's canon that Sam doesn't really have any happy holiday memories, and Dean does. It's canon that their perspective on the same shared holidays is completely different. It's canon that Dean stole Christmas decorations and presents for Sam and apparently none for himself. And it's canon that Sam realized Dean did that for him and gave him his only present. And it's canon that remembering that made grown-up Sam want to give Dean Christmas even though it meant admitting something hurtful to himself. (John not showing up for Christmas/Dean's last Christmas)

If you put yourself in Sam's shoes--- a kid left alone for most of his formative years; unable to put down roots and make friends; whose best friend, the only one who could even try to understand him, is his good little soldier brother--- it's easier to understand why Sam felt lonely and became a much more introspective person. Because he was literally stuck with just his thoughts and anxieties and the TV for days at a time. When you think about how sick he must've been about it, every time Dean and John would leave. Waiting for that next phone call. Biting his fingernails when the call was late. Wanting to be invited to prove yourself, but also because if you're THERE at least you KNOW what happens.

But then, too, if you can put yourself in Dean's place: it's not necessarily something a kid or young adult can fully appreciate--- especially a somewhat emotionally immature young adult--- that their little sibling is a completely autonomous person with their own inner life. They don't just pause when you leave their sight. Dean throws himself into the hunt, and isn't thinking about how much Sam is worrying about them. He's thinking, "Sam is safe, so I can focus on backing Dad up."

It sounds selfish, but it's simply a fact of the maturing brain that it takes some time to comprehend someone else's existence outside of you as a real thing and not just a vague concept.

So, to touch on another aspect that gets discoursed:

There ARE a lot of things about Dean's parentification that Sam doesn't know at first, but he has always known about it to SOME degree. He had his own perspective on it, and for sure I wouldn't say that Sam thought of Dean as his parent. Dean has definitely always been his older and somewhat overbearing big brother. But who do you think Sam took his problems to? Who threatens to rip his bully's lungs out in After School Special? Who remembers what fucking play Sam did in drama?

And a short related aside--- thinking about how Sam was surprised about the things of his John had in storage. His surprise that John kept an eye on him at Stanford. And relating these things that changed Sam's understanding of his father, to the way his understanding of Dean shifted with each revelation of what Dean had done for him. And despite everything Sam ALREADY knew, his adult brain and life experiences gave him new perspective on things.

This maybe is a little rambley, but oh well. What was I saying...

Oh yeah. So sometimes people get upset about Dean being given like. More praise than he deserves or something, by having those "you practically raised me" lines and things. As if it's a retcon. But it's really not.

It's Sam growing up, and his brain constantly taking in new information and reshaping his understanding. It's Sam seeing how much Dean blames himself for things that weren't his fault, and wanting Dean to see the good he's done. It's Sam being able to see Dean's heart underneath his codependent or selfish decisions, and reaching out. It's Sam trying to remind Dean he can lean on Sam, too.

I've gone off on a tangent and made myself tear up lol. I don't remember where I wanted to end up anymore. Somewhere in the ether there's another rant about how Dean has a harder time allowing himself the introspection on his perception of Sam, and how this leads to Sam having to do a lot of the leading on the emotional maturity of their relationship, and how hard this is when the person you're leading still sees you as their kid, in whatever capacity.

But ultimately, of COURSE Sam does as much for Dean. Of course Sam has agency in this and isn't Dean's baby that had a pampered childhood vs Dean's horrible one. Sam and Dean acknowledging the actual circumstances of their childhood dynamic doesn't have to be a Samgirls vs Deangirls fucking situation lol.

[thelampisaflashlight]

I'm on a Bea kick, so here's some background info/tidbits about her. Some discussions of bullying and housing instability below the cut.

-Bea's childhood was, to put it lightly, kind of shit. Due to her mother's inability to hold down a job, they were constantly moving around, and as a result Bea never really had the opportunity to make friends, let alone attend school.

Holidays were just an excuse for her mother to go to parties, and for the first eleven years of her life, Bea didn't even know when her own birthday was.

As for her father, Bea never met the man, nor does she have any interest in doing so. All Bea knows about him, is that he was a drummer in an indie band, his name may have been Greg or Martin, and apparently she has his nose.

-When Bea did start attending school, shortly after being pawned off on her grandfather and gaining some stability in her life, she had an incredibly hard time relating to other kids her age, and was seen as a bad influence/generally a problem child, which resulted in her becoming further isolated.

Most of the time when other kids did approach her, it was to either because they'd heard rumors about her -usually drug related- or to make fun of the way she looked, however, she did manage to make two friends... which lasted until her first year of high school before they ultimately abandoned her.

-For a time, after graduating high school, Bea kind of... disappeared for a while. What she did/where she was remains a mystery to this day, and when asked about it, Bea simply says, "I was in a bad place." and leaves it at that.

When Bea does discuss her life prior to coming to the abbey, she is quick to say that this -living and working on the property- was probably the best outcome for her, and that she doesn't like to think about where she might have ended up if she hadn't gotten the job.

-Although Bea can be a little abrasive at first, she does not tend to go into things with ill intentions, and is fairly open minded/forgiving, even in regards to her tentative "friendship" with Mountain.

She can hold a grudge, but she's very much aware of this, and is actively working on not doing that.

-Bea often struggles between wanting to have "ALL THE THINGS" and absolutely nothing at all. When she wants something, she will either purchase it impulsively, or avoid getting it and feel bad about not getting it later.

She both wants to fill her space with things that make her happy, and thinks she doesn't deserve the things she already has.

She tends to hesitate to use things she has been given, and holds onto things long after most other people would.

It's a constant back and forth between wanting to throw everything in the trash and projecting feelings onto inanimate objects.

And lastly;

-Because Bea is unused to receiving legitimate praise or thoughtful gifts, when she gets either or both, she tends to panic and become flustered.

It's the easiest way to make her short circuit, but also does a world of good for her self esteem.

[3xm-draconic]

DOVAHJOJO: a bizarre adventure.

Saturnalia Sorrows.

Jotunn Jostjarna or "Jojo" is a young boy living on his family's farm in Cheydinhal, Cyrodiil. Tonight will be the last Saturnalia he will spend with his family.

On the outskirts of Cheydinhal city sat a little farm, Jostjarna Ranch. The cozy little farmhouse sat beside a tiny pond with a field of grazing cows on the other end, inside the farmer, his wife and their young son were all waking up to the morning of Satinalia.

“Happy Saturnalia Mama, Papa!” the young boy chipped as he excitedly hugged his parents goodmorning, “good morning and happy saturnalia to you too, Jojo” the boy’s father said mirthfully. 

“Would you like to come with me to pick up some ingredients for tonight’s feast?”, “yes mama” Jojo hopped excitedly down the stairs and into his winter boots.

 Cheydinhal was beautiful this time of year, the whole city was decorated in cheerful red and blue hues, candles lit up the streets and the scent of baked goods filled the air. 

Snow was piled high all throughout the city and children took to making snow-soldiers, snow-aedra, sledding and throwing snowball fights. “Mama can I go play with the other children?”, “of course, just come back when we call you” his mother smiled and as she watched her son gleefully run off to play.

 “Hi guys, is it ok if I play with you?”, “ew no!” a girl shrieked, “why should we let an elf like you play with us?” a boy snickered, “yhea, go find another snooty Altmer to play with!” another boy laughed.

Jojo held back tears as the bullies ran away laughing at him.

“I-I’ll play with you” a scrawny boy with bright red hair said, he was hiding shadows and was dressed in fine clothes “what’s your name?”, “Jotunn Jostjarna but people call me Jotti or Jojo for short” he grinned. “What’s your name?”, “Cicerolli Zeppli but I like being called Cicero for short” the boy said.

The duo made a snow-soldier with a bucket for a helmet, pebbles for eyes and a carrot for a nose, “carrots are my favorite food” Cicero hummed “and sweetrolls”.

“You should try my Mama’s carrot cake sweetrolls they are fantastic!” Jotti beamed.

Jotti heard his mother calling for him.

“Oh I gotta go, but here take this, consider it a saturnalia gift” Jotti said as he wrapped his patchwork blue scarf around Cicero’s neack, “this…f-for me?” Cicero said in tears “thank you”.

Jotti and his mother returned home to feast, they dined on roasted venison, vegetable soup and holiday treats like birch cookies and sweet nogg. “Are you ready to open your presents?” his mother turned to him and laughed a little as she saw her son had a mustache of sweet nogg on his upper lip, “I am mama, WAIT you should open my presents to you first!” he excitedly hopped about.

“We can wait to open ours, you go ahead and open yours” Jotti’s father chuckled.

The gift from his mother was a ring that regenerated his magicka and the gift from his father was a strange dagger “whoa dad what is this made of?” Jotti eyed the blade amazed, “skyforged steel, I saw a vendor selling it, he had come from my homeland of skyrim”.

“Papa, do you think I’ll ever get to visit skyrim?” Jotti’s big blue eyes sparkled with joy, “perhaps one day” his father smiled and rustled his son’s deep brown hair.

A loud banging at their door took their attention away from the night's festivities. 

“Oh? I wonder who that could be?” Jotti’s mother pondered as she got up to open the door, “Jojo…head into the kitchen and be quiet” his father said as he reached for his sword which rested on the fireplace mantle.

Just as Jotti had reached the back door he heard an awful sound, his mother screamed and his father shouted for him to run, Jotti did as he was told and booked it out the door.

He looked behind him and saw strange elves like his mother dressed in black and gold robes or in golden armor.

“Go! Kill the hybrid abomination!” one of them, a cruel looking woman ordered, “yes head justicar Elenwen” her men replied as they chased after Jotti.

Jotti ran, he ran like the freezing wind.

He ran into the forest and dove into a frigid river to escape them, his half nord blood gave him some resistance to the cold.

Jotti kept running even after he thought he had lost them.

Eventually he grew weak, he could not run forever.

Jotti collapsed in the snow…

Jotti awoke later in a temple, the priestess, a kind argonian woman, told him he was found by the guard and that he was in the city of Bravil.

Jotti stayed at the temple until he had recovered, while recovering he learned that the empire was being invaded.

The people who had killed his family were the Aldmeri Dominion, the Thalmor.

Jotti left the temple and now lives on the streets…but fate smiles kindly on him.

[rainepuddles]

I hope someone doesn’t think I’m crazy if I say this but.. can anyone else relate to my experience?

I think when I was 7-9 I started dressing more masculine and became a “tomboy” (before I realised I was trans).

Anyway, I bumped into a childhood friend who I’ll call Abby. I used to go to her house all the time when I was really young, so I thought I’d go talk to her. I went up to her and introduced myself and she asked “what are you wearing?”, I was wearing a black shirt this 5 skulls on it and pants of some kind. I replied something along the lines of “oh, this? Yeah, I guess I’m a tomboy now..”

She took one look at my outfit, then grabbed my shirt sleeve and said “Ew.” Then walked off.

In that moment, I realised something. I really don’t care about what other people think about me.

I just sorta told a load of people, and I had this adrenaline rush for that night.

I thought it was funny.

For the next few years, I had that mentality. It wasn’t until recently that I realised I had it. People told me that it was “amazing” or a “great thing” that I didn’t care. And I thought that was weird.

Like, the person that’s making fun of your appearance is probably an idiot.. or a person you don’t like. Why would you listen to them, why would you take it to heart?

I always saw in movies or media conversations between characters, and I’d always think the same thing.

“Don’t listen to her main protagonist! You don’t have bad hair and she’s just a dumb bully.”

Yes, of course you shouldn’t listen to her.. she’s an awful person? I thought

If she told you to throw a chair across the classroom, would you do it just because she was making fun of you? No. So why change your entire appearance for someone who doesn’t care about you.

But I had a second realisation this year as well. At the start of this year, I had my new school uniform. And when the first week of school holidays started, I had this constant nagging thought about how unfair and awful school uniforms were.

I thought about how everyone just had to be the same, and if you stepped out of line you were punished for being different. You were literally being punished because you were being yourself, because you wanted to share who you were.

That whole time, I just wanted to express myself. An itching, constant feeling of wanting to show people I was different. That I liked video games, and was a total nerd because I love that part of myself! And I didn’t even care that no one else liked the stuff I did, I just wanted someone, anyone.. to notice me.

But school doesn’t like people like me.

At some point, I thought I was starting to get insecure of myself. So I looked into getting an emo haircut. Because if I couldn’t express who I was through my clothes, I would do it with my hair.. and because honestly I thought it looked awesome.

But there was a different reason. One that I didn’t realise was my main motive for this.

After that, I decided not to get a hair cut like that and just cut my hair short. I was happy with how it turned out, but kind of sad that I still couldn’t fully express myself.

School started again, and one end of school day I was walking to my parents car to go home. This girl was with her friends, and she decided to go up to me and yell to her friends “hahahaha! It looks like the hairdresser dropped the razor on their head!”

I thought that was strange, and I wanted to snap back with a funny response because I thought it would make me laugh at her. But I racked my head and found nothing, so I simply smiled, walked away to my parents car and explained what happened, laughing.

But a few days later, I had a kind of terrifying thought.

I LOVE being bullied.

No, I’ve been actively seeking for it for years. It’s not only that I don’t care, it’s not ONLY that I think it’s funny.

I enjoy it.

That adrenaline rush.. that’s my ego being pumped up times a thousand.

That itching constant feeling of wanting to be noticed gets filled to the brim when I get made fun of. When I’m being humiliated.

IM BEING NOTICED!! YOU THINK IM A WEIRDO? YOU THINK IM DIFFERENT?

Your attempt at making me feel like I have to be similar to everyone is adding fuel to my sick twisted warm fire.

I want to know I’m different. I want to know I’m weird. I want to know you don’t like me because I’m not like you in the slightest.

Please, make fun of me. It makes an interesting story. I wanna laugh at you. I wanna think about it for the rest of the day, I want to feel more powerful than you. I want to feel more special than everyone else.

I love being different, so please, tell me I am!

Make them notice me.

[pplankton]

❝ Touch me and I WILL disintegrate you! ❞

[prettyboypucey]

Weird ~ G.W.

Summary: George is gorgeous. Charlie is a meddler. The snow is cold. (this summary sucks...just read it) 

Pairing: George Weasley x Y/N 

Word Count: 2,404 (who do I think I am?) 

Warnings: mentions of bullying. mentions of food/eating. george is unknowingly triggering? reader cries. idk? let me know if i missed something. 

A/N: part 2? maybe? translations are for romanian via google translate. do not come for me if they are hella wrong. 

Translations: draga - darling; dragoste - love; tampit - stupid 

     I had never been normal. From the time I was a toddler I had stars in my eyes and dirt on my knees. While the other kids in my grade were playing with dolls and dressing respectably, I was riding imaginary dragons and wearing mismatched socks with dungarees and a butterfly headband. Normalcy evaded me even further when at 11 years old, I got a letter declaring me a witch.

     When I first came to Hogwarts I spent the majority of my time alone. It appeared that even children who could wave a stick around and makes things fly wanted nothing to do with the colorful little girl. Meeting Luna Lovegood in my second year was the best thing that had ever happened to me. Here was a girl who allowed me to be exactly who I was with no judgments. And then she introduced me to Neville Longbottom and Ginny Weasley, and suddenly that little girl who thought her only friends would always be the rocks she painted faces on, had found her people.

     Of course, being friends with Ginny Weasley meant knowing her many brothers. So after graduation when I went off to Romania to work with dragons it made me feel slightly better knowing Charlie Weasley would be there. He quickly took me under his wing and became the older brother figure I had never had. After working together for three years, and electing to stay at the sanctuary for the last two over the holidays, he had finally convinced me to come home with him. I was reluctant to leave the sanctuary - the one place I truly feel safe (despite the massive fire breathing creatures).

     Charlie had warned me that being with one or two of the Weasleys was very different from being with the entire Weasley clan. Obviously I knew Charlie and Ginny, Ron had always been nice to me, and I had met Molly a handful of times in passing. However, Bill was known to be quite intimidating, Percy was supposedly very no-nonsense, and the twins (albeit never cruel) had a reputation of being hell-raisers.

     Apparating to the edge of a marsh with Charlie by my side I could see the rising structure haphazardly balanced slightly ahead.

     Pausing, I glanced at the back of the familiar red covered head, “I don’t know Charles, maybe I should just go back. I really don’t want to be a burden.”

     Charlie very quickly rounded behind me to continue guiding me towards his home, “No, no, no, no, no. No. You’re not a burden to anyone draga. Keep your head up and if any of them give you grief - remind them of the giant, winged beasts you can feed them to.”

     Quickly placing a kiss to the side of my head Charlie bounded ahead again to open the door and announce your arrival. Before I could toe off the first boot to leave next to the dozen other pairs in the entryway, a pair of arms had flung around my neck.

     “Y/N! I missed you so much!”, Ginny pulled back, keeping her grip on my shoulders, to inspect for any major injuries.

     I held onto her elbows, keeping her close, “Hi Gin, I missed you too. A lot. I’m loving this new look by the way.”

     She reached up to brush the now short locks behind her ears. A grin on her face as the two of us looked the other over for the first time in months. Ginny was wrapped in a pretty baby pink sweater with shades of red and white running through it. The material was soft against my palm as I hooked it around her crooked elbow to follow her into the living area.

     “You know”, she started, “I was starting to think maybe Charlie had let you get eaten or burnt to a crisp in the land of dragons. It’s been so long since you’ve come to see me or left the sanctuary.”

     “I’m sorry Ginny. It’s just that after everything, I had to keep myself busy.”

     Ginny’s smile softened into one of understanding. The war had taken a part of all of us. Although Fred had recovered after many months, that fear of almost losing such a vital part of their family had rocked the entire Weasley family to its core.

     “I get it, I do, but I worry about you. I just want you to know you’re not alone Y/N.”

     I pulled the girl into another tight hug, “I know.”

     Ginny pulled away first, clearing her throat, “Okay! Now that’s out of the way - it’s time to introduce the one and only Y/N L/N to the Weasley’s.”

     I hummed, “Hmmm and which of us should be more scared?”

     “Oh definitely the Weasleys.”

 ~~~~~~~~~~~

     Meeting the Weasley family had gone much better than expected.

     Molly had opened her arms and home to me as if I was one of her own children. By the time the night was over she had me stuffed full of warm food and drink and donning my very own coveted Weasley sweater, the lavender initial in the middle marking it as my own. Arthur had been very interested in my muggle parents and upbringing, questioning me about the functions of a rubber duck. Bill and his wife Fleur were the most stunning couple I have ever seen, and not nearly as intimidating as people portrayed them. Fleur was pleased when she found out I spoke a bit of conversational French and promised to have me over to Shell Cottage (apparently they have an amazing collection of wind chimes that I am dying to see). Percy was a bit more refined. Completely polite and friendly but he seemed reserved. Ginny had explained in one of her letters how much guilt Percy carried after the Battle of Hogwarts over how he had behaved in the years leading up to that day.

     The twins were much different than I remembered them being from the few times we were around each other in school. The physical differences were clear - George’s missing ear and Fred’s dragging limp were both signs of the prices they paid in the war. More than that however, they had matured greatly. They were still happy and made sure to pull at least two pranks over the night, poor Molly nearly lost her voice after they blew up the turkey. However, there was something in their eyes that had been dimmed. Especially in George.

     His twin almost died that night, and it reflected in George’s eyes each time he looked at his older brother. It was clear that he was still afraid because whenever Fred left a room George followed, never letting his brother out of his sight, and if he happened to lose track of him a panic began to swirl in his brown orbs.

     I was in the middle of watching as George yet again made his way to Fred’s side, clapping a large hand on his twins shoulder and throwing his head back in laughter.

     “So which one are you staring at dragoste?”, Charlie whispered as he appeared out of nowhere.

     I ignored the burning in my cheeks as I looked away from the scene in front of me.

     “I am not staring at either of them tampit.”

     “Mhmm, sure, absolutely, I believe you.”, after a quick pause he said, “It’s George isn’t it?”

     I turned and scoffed at him, “No!… How did you know?”

     Charlie let out a chuckle, “Because I know you my little dragon. I also know my brother, and just between us, he definitely likes you as well.”

     At this I let out an incredulous laugh and glanced back to where George was now telling a story, his hands moving animatedly. There was no way that George Weasley had even a remote attraction to me. He was kind, strong, clever, and so bloody gorgeous it truly was a privilege to look at him. And I am…me. Nothing special. Just a girl who had more dragon friends than human ones and whose hands were covered in scars and callouses and whose socks never matched and had never even kissed a man before. So no, there was no way that George Weasley would ever like me.

     “Hey. I know that look Y/N. Stop those thoughts right this bloody second.”

     “Charles it really is annoying when you read me like that.”

     Throwing his arm over my shoulder he began to lead me towards the twins, “Yes I know and I am sorry in advance but this needs to be done. Fred!”

     Charlie’s voice had gone from a rushed whisper to a jovial shout when we reached George, Fred, and Ron by the fireplace. George’s smile as he turned to look at us sent a million butterflies off in my tummy.

     “So Freddy, I was hoping you could help me out with a top secret project tomorrow for mum and maybe show me around the joke shop. I heard you added some new displays that I want to check out.”

     “Sure Charlie”, Fred glanced at George as he spoke, “I’m sure we can make some time for our favorite brother.”

     Ignoring Rons protest, Charlie gripped my shoulders and pushed me in front of him, “Actually George I was thinking you could stay here and show Y/N around the area. She mentioned wanting to talk a walk tomorrow and I would hate to disappoint her on her first Christmas out of the sanctuary.”

     “Um-”

     I interrupted the rejection coming from George, “No please, I would hate to be a bother and make you be stuck with me all day. I’m sure Ginny can take me.”

     George smiled and shook his head, “No it’s completely fine Y/N. I would be happy to show you around.”

     “Okay great! It’s settled then!”, Charlie looked rather too pleased with himself and obviously missed the look exchanged by his identical younger brothers.

~~~~~~~~~~

     The next morning the Burrow was a flurry of movement as everyone began their day. Apparently Charlie and Fred weren’t the only ones on their way out. The others still had some last minute gift shopping to do and Ron was spending the day with Hermione’s muggle family. After breakfast, a quick wink from Charlie, and a slam of the front door - George and I were alone in the house.

     The two of us stood facing one another in the living room for a few awkward moments before George spoke, “Well, um, did you want to head out as well?”

     “Oh sure! Yes, let me just grab my boots really quickly.”

     George led me out the door and onto the snow covered path towards the small, iced over river. Nothing was said for a while, the only sound was the crunch of snow under our boots and the occasional sniffle from one of our red noses. I was mentally imagining all the ways I was going to kick Charlie’s ass when he got back for suggesting a walk in the middle of winter when we came to the top of a hill and stopped.

     Everything as far as the eye could see was blanketed in sheets of white. Stomping my boots down into the fresh snow, I couldn’t help the giggle that escaped as the snow gave way underfoot. Feeling a pair of eyes on me I remembered that I wasn’t alone and turned to see George watching me with an unidentifiable look on his face.

     “Sorry, sorry. That was - I don’t know why I did that. I liked the feeling of the crunch of the snow I guess. Sorry.”

     George grinned, “You don’t have to apologize. It was cute.”

     I could feel my face flush at his words. His smile grew even wider at the sight of my heated face. My gaze dropped from his pretty face down to my boots. I could feel the thick socks I had on beginning to grow cold and wet from how long we’d been outside. Looking back up I could see George’s deep eyes glaze over. Assuming it was because he had been apart from Fred so long I glanced out at the view one last time before turning back the way we came.

     “We should probably get back. We’ve been gone a while and my toes are getting wet. I feel bad enough that Charlie forced you to do this anyways without you getting frostbite or something. I’ve had frostbite, it’s not fun. And now I’m rambling. I’m sorry. Sorry”

     George was shaking his head at me and said, “You are so weird.”

     Ouch. My chest tightened and the small smile I had been wearing dropped from my face. If I had been able to see past the tears forming in my eyes that were making my sight blurry, I would have seen George’s face do the same. Unfortunately, all I could focus on was that word. Weird. Strange. Abnormal. Freak. 

     Weird weird weird.

     The walk back was silent. A thick tension surrounded you both as thick snow flurries began to swirl down in the midmorning air. Just as thick was the lump forming in my throat as I fought back tears. I know I shouldn’t let his words affect me. He’s just some guy. But deep down I also know that he’s not just some guy. This is George fricking Weasley. With his stupid perfect face and gorgeous eyes and his loyalty to his family. I couldn’t help but be enamored with him from the moment I walked in the Weasley’s front door. So it hurt to hear the man I liked call me that nasty word that has haunted me my entire life.

     When we finally reached the Burrow, George tried to reach for my arm but I pulled away and ran into the house. I could hear that some of the others had returned and really wanted to avoid a confrontation. Once again, luck wasn’t on my side. Charlie came walking out of the kitchen and saw me in the entryway. His face immediately became concerned at the sight of me and he lowered the sandwich he had from his mouth.

     “Draga?”, Charlie’s voice followed me as I finally reached the stairs and launched upstairs.

     As I reached the first landing I heard him speak again, his voice rough and hard.

     “What did you do?”  

[earnestly-endlessly]

kind of an odd request — do you have fics where erik is grumpy with everyone else but a ray of sunshine with charles?

Hi anon, thank you for the ask. First and foremost, I'm so sorry for how long this took me but I've been searching for all the fics that come to mind that fit your request. Second, this is not an odd request because I love this trope so much. I mean, it's basically canon that he's grumpy with everyone except for his Charles, right? Anyway, I might add to this list later on, but I can't sit on this any longer and hope that you have found some fics that you enjoy!!

Fic Recs Where Erik is grumpy with everyone but a ray of sunshine with Charles

Twice as Blind – Darksknight

Summary: Erik is probably the biggest asshole on the face of the earth, and because of this, he'll probably die alone. Charles is a complete flirt and playboy and, probably, will never commit to anyone ever.

(The lesson here is that when you have two friends who are BOTH secretly seeing someone, well, it's probable that they're seeing each other.)

In the moonlight, on a joy ride – scarlettblush

Summary: Librarian AU. Charles is the young librarian and Erik is the college student who is completely besotted with him.

The Proper Care of Actors – Clear_Liqueur, Clocks, Etherei, afrocurl

Summary: Erik is an A-list action star who is notoriously difficult to work with, until the day he gets cast alongside Charles Xavier, rom-com darling who can charm the pants off movie audiences the world over and apparently even one Erik Lehnsherr. The paparazzi catch them out and about soon enough, and their real-life Hollywood movie romance becomes instant tabloid fodder.

Rumor Mill – ikeracity

Summary: Erik is the grumpiest, most foul tempered worker at Stark industries. His grumpiness is the stuff of legends.

So it's obviously the talk of the office when Erik is being made to go to the company party and he's bringing his husband. There's rumors flying round about how much of a masochist or equally antisocial bastard Erik's husband must be to put up with him. Others think he must be a meek mouse perhaps bullied by Erik.

What they weren't expecting was the confident, charming, adorable and unbelievably nice Charles that turns up on Erik's arm. What they certainly weren't expecting was how much Erik obviously adores his husband and how happy he is to let others see this.

Work/Life Balance – pocky_slash

Summary: Alex is pretty sure his weird, anti-social boss is a robot. Right up until the guy's adorable husband shows up. His adorable husband who happens to be a famous actor. His adorable husband who happens to be the very same famous actor who was the source of many of Alex's teenage fantasies.

Terrifying Domesticity – ishipitsobad

Summary: Erik is the most dangerous and notorious mafia boss around for miles, and yet the strangest things terrify him.

For example: his children, and his very pregnant mate.

Of kittens and teacups and love – Ren

Summary: Modern AU in which Charles and Erik are flatmates. Charles studies psychology and likes tea and chess and keeps bringing home stray kittens, and Erik lets him because he's maybe perhaps a little bit sort of in love with him.

Fools Rush In – LoveSupreme

Summary: Erik owns a cafe on the edge of campus and accidentally starts maybe-stalking a Biology Professor there.

Growing Pains – ikeracity

Summary: Twelve-year-old Erik Lehnsherr is an angry, closed-off foster kid with trust issues and a bad temper. Ten-year-old Charles Xavier is a lonely kid in boarding school who just wants a friend.

Logan pretends he doesn't think they're both fucking adorable.

Series

Home Together (The Finding Our Way Remix) – significantowl

Summary: Erik is not the sort of person other students strike up conversations with. His expression, his posture, every part of his manner say: Don’t talk to me. I don’t want to talk to you. But none of that stops the boy ahead of him in line with the collapsible white cane, and nothing can stop Erik from falling for him, like it or not.

Melted Ice Cream and Macaroni Art – pocky_slash

Summary: Everybody likes Charles. Nobody likes Erik. And that's really the source of Erik's doubts. Also, there's ice cream and a baby. Part of ‘the Daycare’ verse.

Walling in or Walling Out – stlkrchck

Summary: Erik stifles a sigh. Of course this is Mr. C. F. Xavier. Of course.

For the prompt: Charles and Raven are throwing a holiday party. Erik is the grumpy neighbor who is annoyed by how loud they are being. So he goes to complain, and Charles makes it up to him.

(Wise Men Say) Only Fools Rush In – wildelybroken

Summary: After reading a fic where Erik and Charles are super sluts, meet at what is presumably Raven and Emma's engagement party, and end up sleeping together, I made the following comment and just inspired myself.

"They start casually texting each other throughout the day, maybe while they’re bored or frustrated at work, and start out meeting up and sleeping together semi-frequently. And eventually they accidentally start dating without noticing it at first, not until Raven and Emma get them alone and are like “wtf you two super sluts are actually dating??” And at first they deny, but then they’re both like “holy shit, we are!” And they meet back at one of their places and they don’t have to say anything, they just look at each other and come together immediately, kissing passionately and ~making love~. In the middle of it they realise that’s what they’ve been doing for a long time now and they confess their love to each other and they live happily ever after because they deserve all the good in the world."

For Charles – Shigai

Summary: Tired of being told he has to find his 'heart', classical piano graduate Erik Lehnsherr decides to travel to Italy and drink from the famous Italian passion for music. While searching for it, he meets Charles Xavier, a graduate in Fine Arts who is basically travelling around the world perfectioning his technique, and who will turn his world upside down.

Together they will discover that, sometimes, what you thought you didn't need is what you needed the most.

Erik Hates People – Anonymous

Summary: Erik hates people- it's his rule, a way of living.

Sugar – humanitys_cutest

Summary: Erik glances at the clock for what feels like the tenth time in less than half the minutes. It feels like he's been in some meeting or other since the day started almost 10 hours ago, and he's had just about enough of listening to these pompous old men discuss what would be the best design for his building like they know anything about it. He tries as subtly as possible to massage his temples to assuage the building migraine, but he knows it's no use.

He just wants to go home.

Everyone Likes Charles – Rosawyn

Summary: '“Everyone who's met him likes him.” Cain's grin was even stupider than before. “Once you meet him, you'll see.”

It was almost like a challenge then. And damn. Erik hated saying no to a challenge.'

Still Going Strong – JackyJango

Summary: Speaking of forty-eight, Erik hates it. Hates it even more that others are aware of it. While he’s pragmatic enough to know and accept that aging is inexorable, the increase in number gives the people around him the freedom to pounce at him with questions, opinions and advice he'd fought to keep at bay all year.

Besides, Erik believes that youth is a state of mind, not a phase in one’s life.

You have a child’s mind in a man’s body, Charles constantly tells him.

But despite his age, Erik is healthy. He works out daily. His muscles are steel and he can dead-lift four hundred pounds. He can break bones without breaking a sweat. Most importantly, he can still carry Charles to the bedroom and fuck him senseless. And as long as Erik can do that, he’s perfectly happy.

All I know is pouring rain and everything has changed – hllfire

Summary: Charles meets Erik, the man he had heard about many times from his sister and some friends, on a rainy Sunday morning. The stories about Erik paint him as a distant and intimidating man, but Charles finds out that maybe the stories had been wrong.

How to Successfully Ruin Your Life – humanveil

Summary: Seventeen-year-old Charles Xavier accepts a job at his local café, expecting nothing more than a fun, new pastime. What he gets is a mysterious customer and a schoolboy crush.

Stolen – ishipitsobad

Summary: Erik is a miserable, grumpy, cantankerous bastard, and he has every fucking right to be. He drew the short end of the stick when he got the Underworld as his domain, and there isn't very much fun to be had in judging and governing dead souls who would rather be anywhere else but with Erik in the depths of Hell.

So when he meets Charles, brilliant and lovely Charles who is more popularly known amongst the mortals as Persephone, and feels the promise of something wonderful that could make his eternally doomed existence infinitely more bearable... you can bet all your drachmas Erik's not going to let Charles go any fucking time soon.

Erik Lehnsherr's Guide to Saving the Universe By Meeting Your Soul-Mate and Falling in Love in Less than 72 Hours – magneto, pangea

Summary:Army Pilot Erik Lehnsherr is just trying to enjoy his day off when a mostly naked person crashes through the roof of his car. Even more alarming, the strange falling naked person—who goes by Charles Xavier when he's not speaking an ancient dead language—brings tidings of the apparent potential end of the world, and begs Erik to help him put a stop to it.

Well. His mother has been nagging at him to go out and meet new people.

The Theory of Partnership Dynamics – Pangea

Summary: “Detective Lehnsherr, how wonderful to see you out on the job!” The fed in the front greets him as they draw nearer. He’s shorter than the other two by a full head, and he’s beaming at Lehnsherr as if completely undeterred by Lehnsherr’s paint-peeling scowl.

“What do the feds want?” Lehnsherr asks bluntly.

“You know I can’t tell you that,” the fed answers cheerfully. Then his gaze lands on Alex, and, impossibly, his grin gets even brighter. “Did you get a new partner?"

“No,” Lehnsherr says through his teeth while at the same time Alex says, “Yes.”

[bas-writes]

-rolls in- Pumpkin here!! This event was so fun!! so first one was H5.. Could I request a sfw fluffy HC with Crocodile having a fancy spa day off with his s/o please! (I hope that made sense D8) Thank you so much. I lof you!

This is probably so, so, so OOC, but hhh, it's Crocodile, it's so hard to write fluff for him. I hope you will enjoy ^^"

(Also turned out I have no idea what people do in spa. After research I am bullied by ads of various spa resorts, last minute holidays and wedding dresses, for some reason.)

Enjoying A Day in Spa

Character: Crocodile Reader: female (trans inclusive) CW: none

You need a lot of patience to convince Crocodile that a day at the spa is a good idea. He would just throw you money, assign the best bodyguard he has and wish you a good day—but to accompany you himself? Spas are… wet. And you need to sit there more or less naked. Surrounded by people you don’t know. Mere thought of visiting such a place makes him clench his jaw painfully tight.

If you approach him on a good day—or when he feels he’s in some kind of a debt towards you, like after a fight he knows it was his fault… which he wouldn’t admit, but still would look for a way to repay you and satisfy his mind with peace—he might agree. Under one condition: he will not participate in any kind of beauty nonsense. He’s going to wait for you in the bar lounge. Maybe, just maybe, he’s going to get a massage done. Or a short visit in a sauna.

Crocodile uses all influence and money he has to provide you two privacy. If you’re still in Alabasta, his casino has a spa, so he doesn’t need to do much, just to order it closed for visitors for a whole day. If it happens after his escape from Impel Down, it might take weeks before he finds and bribes (or terrorizes) a perfect place. Crocodile wouldn’t stop at any first spa in your area. No, it has to be a perfect, luxury resort, with the most competent employees and the best variety of whiskey in the lounge.

He says he won’t participate in beauty treatments—but he keeps you company, even if it’s forbidden… in theory. I mean, who would try to stop him? He shows you enough courtesy to not look at you when you’re changing a position or the cover, but he’s going to sit close, enjoy a cigar or a glass of good liquor, chatting with you and looking at the beautician's hands. All. The. Time. They better not harm you.

If he’s in an exceptionally good mood, he might let you convince him for a massage or hand treatment. This man takes good care of his hands, he would lie, if he said he doesn’t enjoy a good manicure and moisturizing treatment. Dry skin can be so uncomfortable, more than his hate towards anything wet.

Hot stone massage also sounds tempting for him. So relaxing and beneficial for his spine. Massage for couples? With some pampering and sweet cooing you have a good chance of convincing him.

If the chosen place has a pool, Crocodile will suggest a stay there as well. Of course, he’s not going to swim, but he loves the sight of you in water, especially if you have long hair or enjoy swimming naked, or if you have cute swimwear. You look like a mermaid and it nicely rubs the bit nostalgic side of his soul, buried deep, deep within his grumpy and cruel self.

The visit has its peak with a romantic dinner by the candlelight. Crocodile is not a romantic type—but he loves to show off. And what’s a better way to show off with his woman than funding her dinner straight out of a classic movie? Make sure to wear his favorite outfit, so he can get an eyeful of you in your full glory. He has to be paid for his patience after all.

[theeslytherinslut]

The Perpetual Freak (1/?)

Pairings: Sirius Black x reader, Marauders x reader

Warnings: Mention of bullying,

Word Count: 2,063

The Beginning

“Twitch,

Just 4 days now--like I need to tell you, likely been counting down the days all bloody Holiday, haven’t you? We’ll be there Sept 1st at 10 on the dot, we should make it to King’s Cross by 11 that way. Be ready this time, won’t you? I think Padfoot just might actually hex your grandmother if he has to make small talk with her again, but can you blame him? Anyway, we’ll be there at 10. Don’t forget Jinx this time. I don’t fancy being attacked once he breaks out of your grandmother’s house.

P.S Sirius said he’ll be on his best behavior--does that make you nervous too?

See you soon,

Prongs (& Padfoot)

The letter lay in the same spot on your cracked cherrywood desk since you received it. Though short and to the point, you’d reread it many times, hoping somehow the more you read it, the faster the day would come.

Holidays were hell. Being a muggle-born, there was always a bit of an adjustment period after coming home from Hogwarts for a break--an adjustment period usually aided by parents and family--however, this could not have been further from the truth for you.

“Y/N!” As if on cue, your Grandmother's angry call shot up the stairs. Cringing, you held your breath as you walked down the stairs into the kitchen. She stood with her blue gingham apron covered in flour, as well as most of the floor and countertop.

“If this bloody bird scratches my window one-more-time,” she said the words through clenched teeth, glaring at you from across the room. Her stacked icy grey curls bobbled on her head as she shouted, her fist pressed against her hip. “I’ll have to drown it in the creek.”

Your Snowy Owl, Jinx, sat outside the baby-blue curtained window, his big orange eyes peering at you innocently through the glass.

Piecing together the situation, you’d guessed Jinx had arrived suddenly during your grandmother’s baking and had startled her, causing her to spill much of the contents of her bowl.

Suppressing a smile at the mess, you walked over to the window and opened it. Jinx’s peppered wings stretched out briefly before you felt his talons brush against your collarbone, and he perched onto your shoulder.

“Sorry, Grandmother,” you mumbled, catching your cousin smirking at you. A blush of anger lit up your face, and you made to disappear back into your room before anything got ugly; you’d gone all Holiday without a vicious row, and you weren’t about to start one just before you walked out the door.

“When does that school of yours start again, anyway? Aren’t you normally gone by now? Blakely’s school has already started, he’s been working so hard,” she doted, smoothing his hair as he ate his cereal, milk dribbling from his lips and onto the table. “We could all use a little peace and quiet around here, frankly.” she sniffed.

Jinx gave an annoyed hoot and ruffled his feathers unpleasantly as your grandmother glared at him from across the room.

“Train leaves September 1st at 11am like it always does. I’ll be leaving within the hour,” you said, struggling to control your voice.

“Train? There are enough of you--you, people, for an entire train?” Blakely said, dropping his spoon in his bowl, splattering more milk onto the table, evidently thoroughly shocked.

“Yes, oddly enough, it seems I’m not the only freak in England,” you said, using the word he often threw at you.

“Maybe not the only one, but definitely the biggest,” he said quietly, glaring up at you from his cereal. Grandmother, however, pretended as though she didn’t hear, merely clanged dishes loudly together as she turned back towards the sink.

“One day, I’ll hex you so terribly you’ll be lucky if someone calls you something so kind as freak,” you pushed the thought into his head and promptly stormed out of the kitchen, though savoring the terrified shock on his face.

“She-she did it again!” Blakely called, color draining his face. But you were already halfway up the staircase with Jinx balancing on your shoulder before her angry screech reached you.

You’d almost always been an utter freak in their eyes, and it all started when you were only a baby.

Your mother died while giving birth to you, and your father was never in the picture, so there was no one but your Grandmother to take you in; no one but you to blame for it all. You were, after all, the product of your mother’s insolence--having fallen pregnant at 15 by a man whom she’d never spoken of. And further, you were the reason she’d died; she wouldn’t have bled out if you hadn’t been conceived. To your Grandmother, it was as if you were the cause of every problem she had in life, a walking reminder of where it all went wrong--and she made sure you knew it.

Terrible as things already were, nothing was to be helped by the events that were to unfold. As the story had been told to you, you were a little over a year old, crying incessantly in your crib. You’d evidently been exceptionally whiny that day, crying non-stop, refusing to be consoled, and just when she’d for the first time seriously considered doing you in, you stopped. Relieved yet confused, your grandmother had come in to check on you.

“I’m hungry.”

She had heard the words clear as day, in a voice she didn’t recognize, but the words sounded funny. The voice almost echoed, somehow managing to sound crystal clear but miles away at the same time. Sure she was simply going mad from a lack of sleep, she stood rooted to her spot in shock.

“Did you hear me, Grandmother? I said I’m hungry.”

Seeing your bright Y/E/C eyes boring up into hers, she let out an ear-splitting scream when you grinned as recognition dawned on her face.

Obviously, no Muggle doctor could give any sort of explanation or help. At most, they’d give one of the two of you some kind of a crazy pill and a suggestion of seeing a family counselor.

Soon after, tragedy struck your grandmother’s side once more, and you were landed with a cousin, Blakely. Blakely, however, seemed to adopt a mindset closer to your grandmother’s about it all and would no sooner take a shine to you than get friendly with the rabies-infected alley cat.

But as the years went on, things began to get even stranger.

At the age of 3, your wailing cries caused all the lightbulbs around you to pop inexplicably (costing your grandmother a fortune, as she so loved to remind you).

At 5, you’d managed to levitate a ball Blakely was taunting you with out of his hands and into yours.

However, at age 9 is when it became harder to keep a secret; at age 9 is when your grandmother began truly resenting you.

Being a self-ascribed ‘freak,’ bullying was something you were no stranger to. A comment here, a hair tug there. However, this had been a particularly extreme case. Kylie Kippely and her best friends had backed you into a corner, each shooting off snarky comments at your scared state, and when that wasn’t enough, they began throwing things--anything they could get their hands on--cans, papers, pencils, erasers. All the while yelling how everyone would be much better off without such a freak in their midst, about how all their parents were scared to even send them to school anymore after your last incident.

Then, they began running out of rubbish and started picking up rocks instead. Before a single rock could leave their hands, however, the mulch around you began to shake, then chips slowly started rising into the air behind them. As your face went from scared to full of awe, they turned around to see what you were looking at and simultaneously dropped everything in their hands. The mulch then began pelting at all of them, causing everyone around you to scream and disperse, all batting away the pieces of mulch pelting at their running backsides.

Grandmother had pulled you out of the school before you could receive any other punishment, and from that moment on, you’d been stuck in the house with her.

With no outlet, with nothing but growing rage and resentment inside of you, things began to spiral even worse.

Just when Grandmother began researching distant reform schools, however, you received your Hogwarts letter, and everything made sense.

All the strange things you could do, all the bizarre things you made happen, had an explanation. Sure the explanation was that you were, in fact, a freak--but you weren’t the only freak. There was a whole school’s worth of freaks just like you--well, almost just like you.

Though paper cranes soared around you and magic burst from the tip of hundreds of wands, through your time at Hogwarts, you found you did have one unique gift: it was evidently called Telepathic Impression, a branch of complex magic known as Legillimens--no one else could push thoughts into other people’s heads like you could, not naturally anyway. Nobody could ask a question silently and have the Professor answer for all to hear. After you’d interjected into McGonagall’s head during your first Transfiguration class, she’d had you go straight off to Dumbledore’s office. After a brief discussion, it was found you possessed natural Legilimency skills--something that had only been seen once before. He’d been absolutely transfixed when you told him the first instance had been at the ripe age of 1, in fluent advanced English no less.

You smiled fondly at the memory of his laugh of delight as you’d repeated, ‘Did you hear me, Grandmother? I said I’m hungry.'

Never before had you told that story in any sort of positive light, never got a positive reaction either. Dumbledore had been absolutely enthralled with you from then on.

He had carefully explained the practice of Legilimency, how the mind was a layered thing and could not be ‘read’ simply, like a book. He’d explained how everyone learned it to some advantage of theirs, how no two Legilimens were the same.

After several years of private lessons, it seemed all you’d ever be able to do with your gift was push thoughts, images, and sounds of your own into other’s minds--but this was an incredible feat in itself, a private gift of yours. However, just the year before, it was found that with effort, you could twist the thought to become persuasive, convince the person the thought was their own, and to complete the idea you’d given them. During the first lesson which you found you could do so, you’d been practicing with Dumbledore. Though he was giving no effort at all to resist, you’d silently suggested his tea was abysmal and that he knock it off his desk in disgust. With a twitch of his wrist, the cup shattered onto the floor, shocking you both into silence. It was after this Dumbledore had insisted you promise to never use it for evil, never ever use it with ill intentions--for as a Legilimens himself, he would know. You quickly agreed, of course; you’d never once had the thought to use it with ill motives--aside from maybe having Blakely go for a nice long dip in the creek in the dead of January, but that was a fantasy you kept for yourself to get you through Holidays like these.

Shaking your head of past childhood memories, you turned to your trunk to make sure you did indeed have everything all packed up and ready. You didn’t want to stay a second longer than necessary.

Spotting your cloaks pushed into the depths of your closet, you plucked them from the dark and folded them into your trunk. It wasn’t a moment too soon either, because right as you closed the lid, you heard the boisterous arrival of your best friends as they pulled in the winding driveway driving the enchanted car James’ parents had lent him. You heard an enthusiastic barking whoop and smiled as Sirius’ bright eyes and smile filled your mind.

Your stomach bubbling with excitement, you hastily put Jinx in his cage as he looked around in interest. Picking up his cage, you bounded down the stairs to meet them.

[carewyncromwell]

“Twinkle, twinkle, little star, So we'll know where you are --  Gleaming in the skies above, Lead me to the one who loves me...”

~“The Second Star to the Right (cover),” by Simone

x~x~x~x

HEY PETER PAN ANON! I MADE YOU SOMETHING!! 8D

Hahaha, yes! This is Peter-Pan!Orion and Wendy!Carewyn (Carewyndy?). No, I won’t be writing this AU before the Tangled AU at least (and yes, I should have that up hopefully by next week)...but I couldn’t resist doodling these and talking a bit about the daydreaming I did based on this concept. Orion’s ripped pants were kind of based on how the pants are ripped in the 2003 Peter Pan’s costume, but I just couldn’t resist giving him his canon fingerless armwarmers. (I see them being forest green just like his pants, though, while his tunic is a light tan.)

Basically I see eternally 12-1/2-year old Orion Amari taking a strong liking to 10-year-old Carewyn Cromwell when she comes to Neverland. Even though she does act a bit too grown-up sometimes, it’s largely because of how deeply she feels for other people -- she’s determined to protect others, whether from bullying or actual danger, and she hates the thought of anyone feeling alone. She actually is the only person who’s ever asked Orion if he was lonely, being the only child who was destined to never grow up. And as much as Orion will airily state that “to die would be an awfully big adventure,” he finds that it’s Carewyn who believes this most, for the idea of growing older doesn’t frighten her the way it does her grandfather, the man now called Captain Hook. If anything, what makes her saddest about leaving Neverland is not for her sake, but for Orion’s -- she, Jacob, Charlie, and Bill were all going home to London, along with a good chunk of Orion’s friends among the Lost Kids...and Carewyn hated the thought that she’d never see her friend Orion again. So she reminded Orion that she would always have her window open at night, if he ever wanted to come and visit, hear her read a story or two, or even just listen to her singing while she did her evening chores. Sensing Orion’s hesitance, she reassured him that she’d never forget him. 

Orion proceeded to return to life in Neverland, embarking on those same old adventures that make the days blur and make it easy to forget things. Forgetting was part of Neverland’s magic -- even Bill had almost forgotten he had a new baby sister back in London, when he, Charlie, and Carewyn had been there with Orion and the Lost Kids. But, as Orion would often tell himself, adults forgot things in the other world too: they forgot the joys of childhood, they forgot the freedom and the simple pleasures and the bottomless daydreams. All of them, every last one of them, eventually forgot how to fly. 

But perhaps because of Carewyn’s final promise, every time Orion thought of how easy it was to forget things in Neverland, and therefore how easy it was to forget things outside of it, Carewyn’s face and words always returned to his mind. And so, the memory of her conviction and caring never strayed too far from his mind...and with it, other thoughts would crop up too. How stable things had been, when Carewyn was around. How well she understood him and how easy it was to talk to her and trust in her. And it was then that Orion realized that he really, truly missed Carewyn. It was a feeling he’d never really experienced that deeply before, not even for the other children who had eventually returned home to their families. Even Bill and Charlie, who Orion likewise grew reasonably fond of, didn’t make him feel like his stomach was always empty, no matter how much food he ate -- like his heart was scraping at the inside of his chest like a hungry animal desperate to devour something outside its cage. And that feeling only intensified when his fairy guardian Merula would try to urge him to go challenge Torvus and the centaurs to a race or splash around with the mermaids, even when Orion wasn’t in the mood to do so. 

Orion felt restless, unsure of quite what was wrong with him and not knowing how to explain his muddled thought process to McNully and his remaining Lost Kids. One day Orion was eventually persuaded by McNully to lead an expedition to find a lost chest of pirate treasure, and for a short while, the Boy Who Never Grew Up was simply able to enjoy pulling one over on his old enemy and sharing the loot with his gang. That changed, though, when Captain Hook crashed the party. 

Orion and Hook traded as many blows as ever, throwing insults at each other like they always did -- but this day, Hook said one barbed phrase that stuck in Orion’s ear more than he ever would’ve admitted.

“Already forgotten my dear Winnie, I see. But I guess I can’t be surprised. After all, the only thing that can break through Neverland’s curse -- that thing that makes everyone forget...is love. And you -- ha -- you don’t know anything about that, do you, boy?”

Love. Yes. That was the thing that made Carewyn remember her lost brother and mother, even while she was a Lost Girl. That was the thing that had made Charlie remember his parents, even after he’d forgotten London altogether. That was the thing that made Bill remember his other siblings, once he remembered how his baby sister Ginny would always cry after her afternoon nap until he came home from his newspaper route and bounced her up and down for a minute or two. That was the thing that had made Jacob remember his little sister in London, even after he was kidnapped by Hook and commandeered into piracy. And, Orion realized, it was the thing that he missed most about Carewyn -- her ability to love more deeply than anyone else he had ever known...like a mother would, and yet like an equal...a companion, more than just someone to go on adventures with. 

Orion tried to broach this topic with Merula, but the huffy little fairy put up her walls and stubbornly refused to let them down. Feelings were grown-up things, and Orion didn’t need grown-up things! Orion wanted to agree, but the feelings he felt were becoming heavy -- so heavy, in fact, that he found it harder for him to find his center, to think thoughts happy enough that he could fly to any height he wanted. He actually found himself hovering and floating more than flying...and this troubled him. It made him more anxious than he could remember ever being. 

Then the thought struck him -- why didn’t he just go and visit Carewyn? She said he could, whenever he wanted. She could tell him some stories and sing some songs for him -- maybe she could even sew him a new pocket for his shirt! These thoughts perked Orion up a bit, and he decided to leave for London straightaway. 

He hadn’t expected it to be so cold -- for you see, in Neverland, it’s every season all year ‘round, all except winter. It was a fact Carewyn had lamented, for winter was her favorite season. She loved the Christmas holidays and how everyone would gather around the fireplace with warm food together and sing Christmas songs and tell stories. It had actually sounded kind of nice to Orion, when she described it to him and the Lost Kids -- but on this day in London, Orion didn’t think the cold was so nice, nor the gray, dreary city itself. There were buildings that had been crushed and holes in cobblestone streets, made by bombs that had been dropped by German Zeppelins, and just about nobody raised their heads enough to look skyward. The adults prowling the streets were just as lacking of joy as Orion had always imagined them to be, yet it wasn’t due to stupid grown-up things like wearing a tie to work or paying bills. Instead there was exhaustion, sadness...pain. Orion hated these people’s wrinkles even more than the ones he’d see on the pirates’ faces, from dwelling on mindless things like how much treasure they had or what their daily duties were. 

But none of that mattered, of course. What mattered was seeing Carewyn. But alas, when Orion arrived at the Weasleys’ house, it was still daytime...and the window to the room Carewyn, Bill, and Charlie once shared was locked. 

Orion rattled at the window desperately, slapping the glass and pulling at its handles as he cried her name. All logic left his mind -- his breathing became raspier and weaker even as he shouted louder. 

She had to be there -- she had to be there -- she couldn’t have forgotten -- she wouldn’t have forgotten -- she promised -- she promised she wouldn’t forget him -- love was what kept someone from forgetting -- Carewyn knew love better than anyone -- she loved her brother -- she loved the Weasleys -- she loved the Lost Kids and Torvus and the mermaids and the fairies -- she loved Orion -- didn’t she love -- ?

As Orion’s anxiety spiked, the magic of Merula’s fairy dust began to abandon him. He found himself becoming heavier. He tried to cling onto the windowsill, pulling at and smacking the window, but it wasn’t wide enough for him to hold onto while it was closed. Soon enough he found himself falling slowly, like someone drifting down to the bottom of a pool...and when he landed on the ground, he landed on his knees, shaking. He clasped his hands together, his eyes wide and hollow upon the frosty ground as wintry condensation fell from his panting lips. 

He’d lost his happy thought. He’d lost it. 

He tried to fly. He tried desperately to fly, only to fall and scrape his knees and hands. Never in his life had Orion Amari ever been so frightened, shuddering from head to toe in the freezing cold. 

He shakily got to his bare feet and, barely knowing where he was going, he walked. He wandered aimlessly, his eyes glassing over as he gasped for air, searching every revolted and anxious face that he passed as the faces’ owners cringed at the state of his long hair, ripped clothes, and lack of shoes. 

Orion wandered for what felt like hours, until at long last, as if by fate, he ended up not far away from a Church-funded school, which taught both elementary and higher-elementary-level students. One of those such students was a girl with a ginger braid and almond-shaped blue eyes, walking home with several classmates, including a black-haired girl with glasses carrying a bunch of books, a rather pretty blonde with pigtail braids, and a rather cowardly-looking boy with blond hair, brown eyes, and a very thick sweater and mittens over his Church-provided uniform. The ginger-haired girl herself was wrapped up in a rather thick old dark blue blanket she’d turned into a shawl after it got ripped and had been holding it tightly around herself when, all of a sudden, she heard her name being cried by a misty, and yet anxious voice. 

“Carewyn! Carewyn...!”

One can only imagine what Carewyn’s school friends Rowan Khanna, Penny Haywood, and Ben Copper thought, seeing such a scrawny, ragamuffin street boy running toward their friend. Rowan actually tried to step in front of Carewyn as if to protect her, while Ben made as if to cling onto Carewyn’s arm in terror. But Carewyn herself, her eyes very wide upon the boy, immediately tore away from both Rowan and Ben and ran to Orion without a single shred of hesitation. 

“Orion?!”

She barreled over, whipping the shawl off her shoulders and wrapping it around his instead. 

“Orion, what are you doing here?! You’re going to catch a death of cold!”

Orion hadn’t been able to stop shaking for an instant, but her shouting his name, rushing to take care of him -- her remembering him -- it made his heart feel like a beast craving food again. Her concern wet his appetite. He wanted it. He wanted her caring. He wanted her love...

She was as tall as him. She’d been so tiny before...

“Carewyn...you know this boy?” asked Rowan, looking bewildered.

“Yes,” said Carewyn, glancing over her shoulder, “he’s a friend. Rowan, this is Orion. Orion, this is -- ”

“You’ve...grown older,” Orion’s absent mumble cut her off. 

Carewyn fixed him with a faintly reproachful look. “I’m afraid that does happen, in the span of three years...”

Thirteen. She was thirteen. ...She was older than him.

Carewyn’s eyes welled up with concern as she looked Orion over. She turned to her friends quickly. 

“...I’d better get him inside and warm...I’ll see you all tomorrow, okay?”

She quickly bid her friends goodbye, before wrapping an arm tightly around Orion’s shoulders as best she could, rubbing his arm through her shawl in an attempt to warm him. 

“Orion, what were you thinking?” she whispered, her voice full of concern as her eyes stayed locked ahead at their path. “Coming here in broad daylight, in this cold...”

Orion had started to shake again, his hands clasping more tightly. 

“Your window was shut,” he mumbled. 

Carewyn looked very upset. “...My old window, you mean? The one I shared with Bill and Charlie? Oh, Orion, I don’t share a room with Bill and Charlie anymore -- I share with Ginny now. Girls’ room, you know. Charlie and Percy actually share that room now...Bill’s sharing a flat with several other boys, closer to the newspaper’s headquarters in the East End...” 

Her eyes rippled with pain. 

“...Ginny’s and my room doesn’t have a window,” she explained. “I’ve told Charlie and Percy to keep their window open for me, but...well, Percy’s grown up way too fast. He must have closed it to block out the air raid sirens last night and forgotten to reopen it...”

Orion didn’t understand half of what Carewyn was saying, but the tone she spoke with held such reassurance and remorse that it soothed the racing anxiety that had so paralyzed him. He closed his eyes as the adrenaline his anxiety had built up ebbed away, leaving him oddly drained and colder than ever. He was so out of it that he barely seemed to acknowledge that his head flopped down onto her shoulder. 

“Orion?” said Carewyn, startled and worried. 

But Orion merely inhaled and exhaled slowly. Her caring fed that beast in his chest. He wanted a bit more. 

“Carewyn,” he murmured, “did...did you think of me?”

He felt Carewyn adjust her arm around him. 

“Of course I did,” she said softly. “I told you I would never forget you.”

The tenseness in Orion’s clasped hands and face loosened its grasp. “...Because you love me.”

Carewyn looked at him, her eyebrows furrowed with confusion. “What?”

But Orion barely reacted -- as if he didn’t think what he’d said was the least bit weird. 

“There’s only one thing that can prevent someone from forgetting...and that’s love. For once you love someone, your heart never really forgets them. Instead they become part of you...an indispensable piece...that would make you feel incomplete, if it was ever removed.”

Orion slowly opened his eyes, his lips spreading into a small, rather soft smile that made him look a bit more like his usual self. 

“...It’s what helped you remember your brother and the Weasleys, while you were with me...and your brother remember you, while he was with Hook,” he said. “It’s something I know nothing about...but I know you know it very well.”

Carewyn considered him for a moment, before returning her gaze back to the road. Plenty of people passing by gave her and Orion the side-eye, but she didn’t care. 

“I don’t know if I’d say you know nothing about it,” she said at last. “You remembered me just as much as I remembered you, did you not?”

Orion’s smile faded from his lips as his eyes widened ever-so-slightly. Then his expression slowly relaxed.

“...Perhaps...”

His black eyes trailed over her arm around his shoulders and her hand rubbing up and down his arm hesitantly. His arm beside her chest twitched slightly -- then, very, very tentatively, he tried to wrap his arm around her shoulders in return. It was a bit awkward, with the shawl wrapped around him...but once Carewyn sussed out what he was doing, she adjusted enough to give the shawl enough slack that he could successfully hold her in return. Once he had gotten his arm around her, he seemed oddly proud of himself, his smile spreading and his eyes closing again as he leaned into her, his head beside hers on her shoulder. 

They stayed that way for several blocks, walking in silence and simply enjoying each others’ company. Orion felt his center of balance returning to him. It was like having this stable place, with his arms wrapped around Carewyn’s shoulders and hers around his, was the earth he needed under his feet to launch himself back up into the air. He felt like he might even be able to fly again at some point...maybe not yet, but soon. Time always moved more slowly in Neverland than in London anyhow, so no one would mind if he took his time...

“...Carewyn?” 

“Hmm?”

“I...don’t know if I can make it back to Neverland,” he confessed. 

Carewyn looked at him, her eyes once again flooding with concern. 

“I fell, when I failed to open your window,” Orion explained. “I’ve only ever fallen like that once before...when...”

“...When Grandfather made you think unhappy thoughts,” Carewyn finished grimly. She turned away from him, facing the road again. 

Orion nodded. His black eyes flickered across her face, even though she was no longer looking at him. 

Hook had taunted him then that Carewyn had no reason to stay in Neverland -- that she preferred the thought of growing old and dying to staying with him -- that he could never meet her high standards. He’d taunted that one day, Orion would go back to find her window locked and barred -- a grown woman who’s forgotten all about him, about Neverland, about how to fly...who’s replaced all of it with adult things Orion could never understand. Ambition. Family. ...Husband. 

Carewyn wasn’t an adult yet, but she certainly wasn’t a child anymore either. There was a practicality to her posture -- a steadiness and gravity to how she walked. There was a neatness and meticulousness in how she handled her appearance. And yet even so, her hands were still so warm and her eyes were still so soft...and the sincerity in the little wrinkles that creased her brow and eyes and kissed at the corners of her lips was just the same. 

Carewyn raised her head in Orion’s direction, but her eyes couldn’t quite reach his. Instead they landed vaguely on his shoulder. 

“...I never told you...Grandfather was wrong, did I?” she asked quietly. 

Orion tilted his head. “...I suppose it depends on which thing he said that you’re thinking of. You did say you’d never forget me, or Neverland...or how to fly.”

“Yes,” said Carewyn, “but I didn’t say that he was wrong, that you’d never understand ambition or family. That’s definitely not true. Ambition isn’t just an adult thing -- you dream of never growing up, of never losing your freedom or your independence...your spirit. That’s a wonderful ambition. And you have a wonderful family too, in Neverland. The centaurs and mermaids -- Merula and the fairies -- the Lost Kids! You take care of them as if they were your family.”

Orion stared at her for a moment, his face very unreadable, but his black eyes rippling with a strange emotion. Then he curled his fingers into the puffy white sleeve of her shirt. 

“...And...the last thing?” he asked softly. “‘Husband?’”

Carewyn frowned deeply. “Is marriage something you even want to understand?”

“No!” said Orion instantly, looking revolted. “No...but...well...”

He swallowed, his own gaze drifting away. “...If you grow up...you’ll eventually want one, won’t you?”

Carewyn cocked her brows coolly. “It’s possible. But honestly, marriage seems like a bit of a bother. I’ve had to answer to plenty of adults in my life: I’d hate to have to answer to one more by choice. Especially if it means I have to give up Jacob, my friends, and my dreams just to make him comfortable.”

She said this so huffily, and yet it comforted Orion more than he could ever properly express. His own chest seemed to lighten and he felt better able to breathe again. His eyes softened upon Carewyn’s face. 

“...I see.”

The two finally reached the Weasley home again. Orion noticed the house across the street that Carewyn had once pointed out was hers and Jacob’s had been boarded up. 

“It’ll get torn down soon,” said Carewyn, noticing Orion’s gaze. “The family that lived there had their house ransacked, just because they were German...”

Her eyes narrowed. 

“...It’s disgusting, how they were treated,” she added to herself. “They were very nice to Jacob and me, when we first came home...”

“Where is your brother?” asked Orion. 

Carewyn deflated. 

“...The war front,” she said sadly. “He’d been saving up so we could move into our own place, but...well, the army needed soldiers, so both he and Mr. Weasley signed up. Mrs. Weasley let me stay here, so I wouldn’t have to struggle to find a place to stay myself.”

Orion felt something oddly like pity prickling at his chest. “You mean you’ve lost him again, after only just getting him back?”

Carewyn didn’t answer as she opened the door of the Weasley home and bustled him inside. Once the door was closed, she guided him over to the main room and into an armchair, wrapping several more blankets around him. 

“Wait here,” she said. Her lips spread into a fuller smile. “I’ll make you some hot cocoa -- that’s sure to help you fly again.”

Orion felt his heart give a somersault. 

“Do you remember?” he said very quickly, before she could leave the room. “...Do you remember how to fly?”

Carewyn beamed. 

“Of course. All you need is faith and trust, and to have been brushed with fairy dust. Then you think happy, wonderful thoughts, and...”

She spread her arms, and -- amazingly -- her feet actually came up off the ground.

Orion’s black eyes widened. Then his mouth slowly spread into the fullest, brightest smile as he found himself coming up off the ground himself. He floated just below her, spreading both of his arms too so as to take her hands and hold them out on either side of them.

Even when the world was so miserable -- even when she had so much reason to forget...Carewyn still knew how to fly. 

“You’re flying,” said Carewyn with a warm smile. 

Orion’s eyes sparkled as he guided her around in a circle, just as he had when they danced with the fairies. “I found a happy thought.”

“Did you? What is it?”

“A person whose company makes you feel stronger, when you’re at your worst.”

Carewyn smiled. “I believe that’s what’s called a ‘friend,’ Orion Amari.”

Orion’s midnight-black eyes gleamed.

Yes. A friend. Not just someone to go on adventures with, or look after, or play make-believe with, or give direction -- but someone to be your shoulder to lean on. To listen, to comfort...to love. That was a friend. As much as he cherished the Lost Kids, he was the one who had found them -- they answered to him, seeing him as leader, since there was supposedly no one else who could. 

This friend...he wanted this friend by his side forever. “Forever,” as Carewyn had once reminded him, was an awfully long time -- but he didn’t hesitate in this thought at all. 

And so, not long after, the Boy Who Never Grew Up returned to Neverland. He passed his mantle of leadership onto Lost Boy McNully, said a quick goodbye to all of the members of his Neverland family...and decided to leave for good. Even his short trip back to the Second Star to the Right took up a few weeks, but when he returned to London, his friend was waiting for him. And Orion and Carewyn grew up together, as close of friends as teenagers and later adults as they were as children. Orion grew more than just a fraction of an inch -- he soon towered a good head over Carewyn once more. He even grew a mustache, and a beard too! And yet even with this, it was never beneath his dignity to climb a tree, nor to engage in food fights, nor to read adventure books about pirates, nor to crow like a rooster upon winning a game. No matter how much his other classmates at school would frown, and no matter how much the adults would disdain and scold him, Orion never cared -- and neither did Carewyn, or Bill or Charlie, or any of the other friends he made over the years. 

So you see, even if Orion grew older, he never truly grew up...for all children grow up, except one. And one day -- many, many years down the road from when Orion first made the choice to stay -- he looked at Carewyn and realized that his first and dearest friend had become something even more precious: a friend he wished to love, cherish, and live beside far longer than forever. A friend he would call “lover.” 

[fu-aki]

So this is going to be my attempt to summarize the newest chapter (chapter 4, part 2) of twisted wonderland.

Again, spoiler alert since I’m about to write out everything that happened, and I apologize for my grammar in advance.

You woke up from another dream where Jafar trying to hypnosis sultan but was distracted by the parade -> the Scarabia students told you to get up and start the marching -> when arrived at the destination, Jamil tell everyone to get a short break -> Grim screamed for water since he’s really thirsty after the marching in desert -> Kalim “water... water... do you want water?” -> Grim “of course! My throats are so thirsty!” ->

then Kalim used his unique magic, “oasis maker” to made a lot of nice and cool water for everyone to drink -> you feel like Kalim is going back to his normal happy personality again -> Jamil suggests Kalim to end the break, if they stay there any longer the sun is gonna be out and it’ll only be harder for the students -> back in Scarabia dorm

Kalim is telling Grim to try more of the blue cheese crackers and is going to get some more ice cream as a dessert for everyone -> Jamil ask to take the ice cream himself since he’s still Kalim’s servant, if their fathers learned that Jamil let’s Kalim do work like that, they are going to be so mad -> Kalim “shouldn’t it be fine now since we are just students in the same school?” -> Jamil decided to at least go with Kalim and help him out

After Kalim come back “how long do you want to keep eating! Are you the king or what?!” -> after that everyone was forced to train until night -> you are in your room again, and Grim said he has an escape plan -> he has a spoon -> his plan is to dig a hole to escape -> you and grim dug the whole night -> next morning you were out doing marches again -> in the break time, Grim asked Kalim to use his unique magic to get more water ->

Kalim “do I look like a water tab? Just drink water from this oasis.” -> but this oasis is already dried up -> Jamil “it’s fine, things like this happens, so I did pack some water on camels, just take down the packs and drink some water.” -> Scarabia students “thank you so much... it would be so much better if Jamil was the dorm leader.” -> Jamil “! Don’t say something like that, what will happen if Kalim hear it.” -> Scarabia students “but didn’t Jamil did most of the dorm leader work anyway?” -> Jamil “sh... it’s fine, it’s the job of Viper families... no, it’s the responsibility of mine, who works for Asim family. Let’s just drink some water and take some break so we can go back before the sun and temperature raise.” -> Kalim calls everyone to end the break and go back to marching formation -> students “Jamil senpai... I don’t want to stay in a dorm like this anymore, why do you have to listen to someone like Kalim!” -> Jamil “that’s because... he is ‘Kalim Al-Asim’. “ -> (MC choices “because you serve him ever since your childhood?” -> Jamil “that is, one of the reasons why.” / “because you like him as a person?” -> Jamil “I wonder...”) -> Jamil “tonight, let’s talk a little bit more, and make sure Kalim don’t know about it.” -> that night

You are all gathered together with the students -> Jamil “I understand that you have complaints about Kalim’s doing, I don’t think what Kalim doing is right either, I tried to stop him for many times but he just won’t listen.” -> the students also saying that they tried to stop Kalim, but normally Kalim is just so kind

-> student A “he’s the one listens to all my troubles when I just entered this school and couldn’t get used to the dorm life.”

-> student B “when I couldn’t catch up with the class and almost drop out, he’s the one that trained with me till morning.”

-> student C “even if he’s a little careless, we all loved our dorm leader Kalim, we are all having fun as Scarabia students, but...” -> Jamil “yes, Kalim really is a good dorm leader that helps everyone without difference, but how did something like this happen...” -> Grim asked shouldn’t he be looking for a doctor but Jamil said it’s kind hard to do it now since we are all staying in school, Jamil then asked you if you have any advice since you went through similar situation with Riddle -> Grim said we fought Riddle for that, maybe Jamil can just do the same thing -> Jamil said that’s impossible since his family served Kalim since ancient times, if Kalim’s father knows about this, he’s going to send all the Viper family’s head flying -> the students felt that’s unfair since Kalim is not fitting for dorm leader now -> Grim question how did Kalim became the dorm leader in the first place -> he was appointed by the last leader -> students feels like that was still impossible for Kalim if not with Jamil’s help -> Jamil accidentally mentioned that last leader was a relative of Asim family so no way they are picking him over his master -> the students are really mad after hearing that -> they started to chant “we don’t need useless leader in Scarabia!” ->

Kalim showed up -> “maybe the training wasn’t enough, you guys seems pretty energetic. Jamil! Tell all the students to get out to court now. We’ll train their magic till they pass out. Did you not hear me! Hurry up!” -> Jamil “...understood, you guys, let’s go.”

Later that night, in your room, you were finally able to dig a hole big enough to crawl through -> you tried to run away -> the students saw you -> in a panic, you run into the storage room -> Grim saw the magic carpet and decided to use that to escape -> on the carpet ride you pulled something so the carpet suddenly went out of control -> you runs into a mirror -> and end up in mostro lounge and saw Azul, Jade, and Floyd -> but the students also chased after you to the lounge -> the trio fought those students and throw them out -> Azul originally planned to ask you for money since he helped you -> but he was shocked by your experience, since he know Kalim and didn’t think he’s that type of person -> so he decided to help you -> Grim thought that is a little suspicious

Azul “that is so rude, I’ve been reflecting on my past mistakes, and decided to help everyone like the merciful sea witch, there’s no way I can ignore the troubles of my classmates. We shall visit the Scarabia dorm tomorrow, let’s bring some presents as well.”

Next day in Scarabia -> Azul “everyone, I’m sorry for what happens yesterday, I thought you were just bullying other students so the kind little me decided to help them, but I just learned that they were the criminals that stole the magic carpet, that’s why I decided to take my responsibility and bring those criminals and magic carpet to Scarabia myself.” -> Jamil “???!!! Why are you guys here??” -> Azul shows that he just wants to return the magic carpet to Kalim but Jamil said Kalim wasn’t feeling well but Azul walked in anyway -> Kalim was surprised to see Azul -> Azul said he’s here to return the magic carpet, and mentioned how Scarabia is a nice location for a resort, then soon changed the subject to ask to stay and participate in their training -> Jamil refuses since they started this training to try to bypass other dorms, there’s no point if they participate in it too -> Azul “sign... it seems like we have to be by ourselves again for the holidays in this cold weather... well, not like there’s any other places we can stay...” -> Jade “even though we tried our best to capture the magic carpet...” -> Floyd “even though our mostro lounge were all messed up because of it...” ->

all three “sign~~~~.... so sad...” -> Kalim “Wait a second!” -> Kalim “Azul is a top level magician in this school after all, so if they stay, it would be helpful for the growth of Scarabia, besides, to let someone walk out like that after they went all the way to visit you, would bring shame to the Asim family.” -> Azul “Ah Kalim you are just so kind! Of course, I will teach everyone everything I know.”

Later, at night -> you were having a talk with the trio -> Azul “he does seems like the ‘normal’ Kalim that I’ve always known, and he really don’t seems like the kind of person to become unstable just because of bad grades. To solve this problem, we need to know more about Kalim. Jade, how about— you have a little ‘talk’ with him?” -> Floyd “then how about we playing around with sea snake in that time?” -> Azul “that’s a good idea, I’ll go with you as well.” -> all three “huhuhu......(evil laughing noises)”

Jamil’s room -> Azul asked Jamil about a game he found in the storage room -> it’s a popular board game in the country of hot sand -> Azul is really interested in it as a member of board game club so he asked Jamil to play with him -> Jamil agreed

On the other side, Jade asked Kalim to show him more about the carpets and tapestry in the storage room, since there’re no arts like that inside the sea -> in the storage room -> Jade questioned isn’t it tough to take care of all those treasures-> Kalim said it was Jamil that takes cares of all this -> Jade complimented Jamil for being so good at his job -> Kalim “I know right? He’s such an amazing person! He’s better at teaching me then any tutors I’ve got! And he’s good at dancing too, it’s sad that he never really dances in front of other people.” -> Jade then questions about the current situation with the trainings -> Kalim said that he’s not really sure either, since it was supposed to be him that came up with the training, but his head has been in a haze a lot recently, he’s used to it since he always gets sleepy when thinking about complicated things -> Jade “complicated things?” -> Kalim “like Scarabia students’ final grades and magic shift event and all, when I think of it my head just became hazy, haha, I am such a bad dorm leader.” -> Jade thought he should use that since there’s probably no other way -> Jade “ouch, I think some dust got into my eyes, Kalim, do you mind to help me to blow it out?” -> Kalim “are you okay? Which eyes is it?” -> Jade “Left, please look into my left eyes, yes, just like that, ‘there’s no need to be scared, I want to help you.’”

On the other side -> Jamil was playing board game with Azul and Floyd -> Jamil said he used to play this game with Kalim a lot when they were young -> Azul asked if they did grow up together -> Jamil questioned back if Azul, Jade, and Floyd grow up together as childhood friends -> Floyd mentioned that he actually never noticed Azul until middle school, so he don’t really feel like they grow up together -> Azul “to them, this is just a play, if I made a boring decision, they’ll leave me and take the dorm leader position right away.” -> Jamil “... so you guys have an equal relationship.” -> Floyd “isn’t it normal?” -> Jamil “normal, is it? I guess it’s still hard for me to understand since I was born as a servant of Asim family.” -> Kalim showed up -> Jamil was surprised to see him since he was supposed to be asleep -> then Jamil was even more surprised to see Jade with him -> then he decided to go back to their room with Kalim

Later, in your room -> Azul ask Jade how was the “talk” with Kalim -> Jade said it’s likely that Kalim was controlled by someone via magic -> Jade tried to ask Kalim who’s the one controling him with his unique magic, but it failed -> Jade explains that his unique magic could make someone speak the truth, but it can only be used once on the same person, and if that person have a high guard, it’s unlikely that it’ll success -> normally it would work on Kalim since he has no guards against everyone, but

Flaskback -> Jade “you will answer this question truthfully, ‘—do you know who casted the mind control magic on you?’” -> Kalim “—I do.” ->Jade “who is that person...?” -> Kalim “I... I won’t say it.” -> Jade “what?” -> Kalim “you can’t tell this to anyone. Long ago, I made a promise like that. That’s why I won’t say it.”

Jade “that was what happened.” -> Azul “hahaha! This is interesting. To think Jade’s unique magic would lose to a promise.” -> Azul then said he have a plan.

And the story ended.

Sorry this summary is so long this time, there’s just too many fun parts in this chapter and I wanted to include all of them in here

[ultimate-cinephile]

How would Viktor Licht and Joker react if their Agender s/o was being harassed for their gender identity? Would they throw hands or..

i have two other requests that i am working on! if you requested either one of those, i will get them out asap, but my family's been moving so it's been hectic.

Joker with a Bullied Agender S/O

Sol help the person who dares come after you. He would throw hands as soon as the words left their mouth.

You'll definitely wind up having to hold him back from ending the poor moron's whole career.

Joker loves you more than anything and he'll be damned if he lets anything or anyone hurt you in anyway.

If you need comforting, he'll cuddle you, distract you with a movie, or whatever you may need in order to feel better.

Viktor Licht with a Bullied Agender S/O

Honestly, he probably wouldn't think much of it at first. Insults and such tend to not bother him. Sure, he's weird, and sure people point it out all the time, but he's never really cared what others think of him. Since he doesn't really know what it's like to feel bad about something someone said, he really won't think much of it.

That is, until he sees how it affects you.

"Oh??? They made you cry???"

{PROTECTIVE VIKTOR: ACTIVATE}

He's a pacifist by nature, but for whoever made his sweet, precious s/o cry, he's willing to make an exception.

After the guy has been throughly warned (beaten), he won't hesitate to pick you up and cradle you. He won't say anything (probably scared to make it worse tbh), but he'll let you cry and rant all you want. If that doesn't make you feel better, he doesn't know what will (no seriously he doesn't, someone help this clueless babey).

I hope you like this Nonnie! Sorry it was so short! Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays or if you don't celebrate anything at all, happy day. I still hope you enjoy it and get some good food.

[swaps55]

Winter Asks Caught in a Snowstorm because Sam and weather.

The snow is festive, at least.

Too often there isn’t much snow in December, especially in Vancouver, and all the holiday decorations just end up looking drab and…damp under the grey winter skies. Not so today. The flakes of snow outside are coming down even thicker than they had been back in the mountains of the BC Interior. Snow this hard isn’t that uncommon out at the orchard, but Vancouver usually doesn’t see it.

Outside the train station, wreaths hanging on the lampposts wear a fresh blanket of white. Too early in the day for various holiday lights to be on, but Kaidan vividly remembers the massive display the city puts on down by the bay every year. Adding snow to the mix will make it nothing short of magic. Been a long time since he’s been on Earth for Christmas, and this year will be Shepard’s first experience with Christmas period.

It’s…not going well.

Outside may look like a pleasant winter wonderland, but inside the train station the collective mood of the thickening crowd waiting for loved ones gets farther and farther from goodwill to all, despite the plethora of Santa hats and garish holiday sweaters.

Shepard in particular has the look in his eyes that usually precedes solving a problem with a shotgun, which contrasts rather spectacularly with the evergreen sweater and gold jingle bell on a bright red cord Kaidan strung around his neck. The farther away they get from wearing combat armor, the more fascinating it is to see the soldier emerge.

If Kaidan had any idea how stressful the prospect of celebrating a holiday was going to become, he wouldn’t have pushed for it. For the past two weeks Shepard has approached Christmas like he’s coordinating a full-scale assault on an enemy stronghold. Like it’s something he has to win. The poor tree they’d decorated in the living room practically salutes every time he walks through the door.

Kaidan hasn’t dared introduce the ugly sweater concept. The levels Sam could take it to don’t bear thinking about, so he’ll leave that one for his mother.

If she ever gets here.  

Shepard paces the train platform, bell jangling with each step, occasionally glaring up at the arrival screen, where the 13:00 train from Kamloops still shows Delayed in red letters.

Kaidan eyes him cautiously. Despite the temptation to say ‘I told you so,’ a peace-on-Earth approach is probably the better choice right now. If Shepard were particularly open to peaceful negotiation.

“Fucking weather,” Shepard mutters under his breath, peering out a window with a scowl. “I hate planets.”

He’s not open to peaceful negotiation.

They’d spent four hours in a skycar to get here, in spite of all of Kaidan’s arguments for why it was a bad idea. Shepard hasn’t learned yet that when Kaidan’s mother makes a plan, you don’t alter the plan. And the plan had been she would take the high-speed rail from Toronto to Vancouver and find her own way to the orchard. It was her plan. Sam’s idea to surprise her at the station was doomed to failure, no matter how noble his intentions.

Of course, the fact he wanted to do it so badly is more than Kaidan’s heart can stand, but that doesn’t change the laws of the universe. Or his mother.  

“You can’t surprise my mother,” Kaidan tried to tell him. “It doesn’t work. Trust me.”

“It’ll work,” Sam insisted, back when he was naïve and optimistic.

Shepard, so accustomed to the galaxy getting out of his way whenever he it wanted to, doesn’t understand the opposing force that is Lora Alenko. Or blizzards.

“I flew a Mako through a mass relay and we really can’t figure out how to keep the trains running in snow?” Shepard demands.

“Apparently,” Kaidan says, suppressing a sigh. The sigh would not help matters.

The red lights on the arrival sign flicker, then change. Sam straightens, hopeful, until the word Cancelled appears.

“Son of a bitch,” he swears, throwing an arm in the air. “Fuck this holiday bullshit.” A few people look in his direction, including a kid wearing a red and green knit cap who can’t be more than ten. He grips his mother’s hand, eyes widening with recognition.

Chagrin creeps over Shepard’s face. He clears his throat and offers the kid a salute, before dragging Kaidan further away from the crowd.

“First,” he says, before Kaidan can open his mouth. “Don’t say it. Second, now what do we do?”

“We go home,” Kaidan says gently. “She’ll get here when she gets here. It’s fine.”

“No it isn’t.” Shepard runs a hand over his scalp and continues pacing. More people start looking their way, so Kaidan takes him by the hand and leads him outside, where the snow continues falling even thicker than before. At this point, just getting themselves home is going to be interesting.

Sam continues muttering under his breath as they walk, jingle bell tinkling merrily. Kaidan puts a hand on his arm, tightening until he stops.

“Hey,” Kaidan says.

Shepard turns his glare skyward, as though he has half a mind to out-temper the storm. Wouldn’t be the first time. He’d ground Noveria’s snow right under his heel. Of course, that time he’d had an armored tank with an eezo core. Surely he can’t do the same with a skycar.

…surely.

“This was supposed to go right,” Sam says in defeat.

Kaidan brushes away the snow collecting on Shepard’s shoulder, hiding a smile at the sight of flakes melting on his head. He’d spent so much time joking about making them both wear Santa hats he hadn’t thought to grab real hats.

“First lesson about holidays,” Kaidan says with a chuckle. “Nothing ever goes according to plan. Kind of like you.”

Sam exhales, warm breath dissipating into steam. He runs a gloved finger down Kaidan’s cheek, channeling some of his intensity into one of those looks that never fails to make him weak at the knees.

“Sam,” Kaidan says, meeting his gaze. “Talk to me. What’s going on? You’ve been a man on a mission for weeks. It’s supposed to be something you – something we – enjoy.”

His expression twists in a way that makes Kaidan’s heart ache. “You’re…my family. Your mom…is now my family. Holidays are important to you.” He hesitates. “And I kind of wanted it to be important to me.”

Kaidan gazes at him, too many thoughts swirling in his head to give voice to any of them. So he leans in and kisses him, softly at first, then more insistently as Sam wraps an arm around his neck and pulls him flush. For the thousandth time, Kaidan wonders how two people fit so perfectly together.

When Kaidan finally pulls away Sam sighs, blinking away flakes of snow.

“Then let’s go home,” Kaidan says. “And I promise, when she gets here? We’ll make it important to all of us.”

Kaidan takes his hand as they walk back towards the skycar. Just for the hell of it, he sticks his tongue out to catch a snowflake, persisting until Sam laughs and tugs him close.

It’s late by the time they make it back to the orchard. The strings of Christmas lights Sam had hung meticulously over the front bushes twinkle merrily, but to their surprise the house itself blazes with light.

Sam’s hand reaches for a sidearm he no longer carries, suspicion in his eyes. “Did you leave the lights on?”

“Nope,” Kaidan says, hiding a smile as he gets out of the skycar.

“Then what the—”

Kaidan chuckles. “You are not the only person who can bully the universe, Sam.”

When they walk in the house Kaidan’s mother sits on the couch with a glass of wine, feet up and adorned with a pair of candy cane slippers, fire roaring merrily in the fireplace. When she gets to her feet, she wears a knit red sweater emblazoned with a green Christmas tree that lights up with omnitool powered lights.

“There you are!” she exclaims as they stamp snow off their boots. “Where the hell have you been?”

Kaidan grins and crosses the room to sweep her up in a hug.

“We…went to get you,” Sam says, giving her a baffled look. “How did you get here? Your train was cancelled.”

“Aunt Li had some last-minute things she needed to take care of, and I saw the weather, so I took an earlier train.”

“I told you,” Kaidan says. “You can’t surprise her.”  

“You tried to surprise me?” she asks, genuinely touched.

Kaidan steps aside and she opens her arms expectantly, waggling her fingers until Sam steps sheepishly into them. She leans in and murmurs in his ear, “Good luck with that.”

Sam narrows his eyes, but holds her tight. “Challenge accepted.”

Oh boy. This is not what Kaidan had in mind when he vowed to make new Christmas traditions.

“I missed my boys,” she says, taking Sam’s cheeks in both hands. “And I wasn’t going to miss our first Christmas.”

Sam nods, speechless for once when she lets him go.

“Sam went all out,” Kaidan says with a smile. “You should see the meal he’s got planned for tomorrow.”  

She raises an eyebrow.

“Catered,” Sam says swiftly.

She grins. “I can’t wait.”

She goes into the kitchen to dig up two more wine glasses. When she returns, she hands one to each of them and grabs the bottle she’d already opened to fill them.

She picks up her own glass and raises it. “To our new family.”

Sam and Kaidan echo the toast, though Sam’s voice wavers.

They drink. Sam shuffles his feet. Kaidan knows the look on his face. The soldier’s been put away again, but the part of him who believes he has to earn his place – even with his own family – still hasn’t been laid to rest yet.

Kaidan’s working on that.    

“So,” Sam says slowly. “I’m, um. Not sure what happens now. I’m not…good at this.”

Kaidan’s mother loops Sam’s arm around her shoulder and walks him over to the couch, where a pile of blankets wait. “Now we cuddle up in front of the fire and get warm, because it’s freezing outside and someone I know hates being cold.”

A smile creeps across Sam’s face. “It’s not so bad. When you’ve got the right company.”

Outside, the snow keeps falling. Inside, the fire flickers and pops.    

“So is this what it’s like?” Sam murmurs, tugging a blanket across the three of them as they settle on the couch and finding Kaidan’s hand underneath it. As soon as he’s situated, Kaidan’s mother drops a Santa hat on his head.

“Yeah,” Kaidan says, kissing his temple. “This is what it’s like.”