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ala-baguette · 10 months

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It's the most loneliest time of the year

Busy trying to finish KwtL and trying to stop myself from getting sidetracked with what has become an annual tradition of writing an angsty Christmas fic. So here's a throw-back to last year's instead. Summary: Four Christmases in which Percy Weasley was alone. And one in which he very much was not. Relationships: Percy/Audrey Rating: T | Words: 5.5k | Read it here or on AO3

Christmas, 1994

As he descended the stairs, Percy’s ears were met with a cacophony of clanking pots and pans from the kitchen. A mouth-watering aroma wafted up to meet his nostrils. Oh, dear. Mum. We talked about this. He straightened his dress robes as he brusquely took the last few steps down and turned the corner into the kitchen.

As he predicted, every flat surface was covered in food. A dozen mince pies were still left after Mum had sent off the majority of the batch to the rest of the family yesterday, and all week she had been baking biscuits and tarts and cakes. Now, dish-by-dish, Christmas dinner was making its way out of the oven. Percy’s eyes followed a plate of Yorkshire puddings as it flew across the kitchen and over to the dining table. It came to rest beside a large chicken surrounded by roast potatoes, parsnips, and Brussels. Mum pocketed her wand after conducting the Yorkshire pudding dance and turned back to resume stirring a gravy at the hob. Dad smiled at Percy as he entered, then went back to setting the table. Percy immediately took note of three place settings arranged at one end of the long wooden table. Why do they never listen to me?

“Mother,” Percy said with a sigh. “This is too much food for just you and Dad. I told you not to go overboard; I can’t stay for dinner, remember? Mr Crouch is counting on me to make sure everything is prepared at Hogwarts.”

“Well, I thought, you know… Just in case you changed your mind.” Then clearly not able to resist reopening their previous argument, Mum chided, “Surely you can have a small bite before you go.” She waved her spoon at him like a naughty child. “The Yule Ball doesn’t start until eight o’clock!”

“Yes, I know. But I want to get there early!” Percy ground out for what felt like the hundredth time. “There’s so much to prepare and so many people to organise. Someone needs to make sure everything is getting done—tables to set up and the band and the decorations. Merlin knows we can’t count on Ludo Bagman for help.”

“I’m sure the House-elves will have all that taken care of. Really, Percy.”

“There’ll be a feast at the ball, Mother!” he reminded her. “I really don’t need to eat twice. I told you this. I have to go.”

“Come now, Percy,” said Dad, passing a gravy boat to Mum to fill. “Go easy on us. This is the first time your mother and I have been alone for Christmas evening since before Bill was born! Can’t blame us for feeling a bit lonely.” Dad was smiling at him in that way Percy hated so much. That patronising smile that said he saw something Percy didn’t. Which was complete rubbish, of course. Quite the opposite, in fact!

Why couldn’t they understand that this was important! He, Percy, was Mr Crouch’s personal assistant, and this was one of his first real tests. Everything had to go smoothly tonight. Percy was representing Mr Crouch and nothing could tarnish the reputation of his boss or his department.

Or maybe Dad did understand. Maybe that was the problem. Maybe he was jealous that in the first six months of his career, Percy was already becoming more important at the Ministry than Dad ever would.

But Percy could hardly say such thoughts aloud.

Percy sighed irritably. The nerve Dad had to go for that guilt trip. It was hardly his fault that Ginny, Ron, and the twins had decided to stay at Hogwarts for the Yule Ball. Hardly his fault that Charlie had said he couldn’t justify the expense of travelling back when he’d already visited twice this year. Hardly his fault that they had uncovered some big new tomb in Egypt, and Bill had needed to cancel his trip home to work on breaking down the curses protecting it. Why did everything always fall to Percy? Why was it always his job to keep this family together?

But Mum and Dad were both looking at him expectantly. And he had to admit that it was rather sad to see them standing there with so many empty chairs around the dining table. And the Yorkshire pudding did admittedly smell divine.

Percy reached up and smoothed back his hair. “Ten minutes,” he said in compromise at last. Honestly, it was really quite magnanimous of him, Percy thought. “One piece of chicken. One Yorkshire. A little gravy. Then I have to go.”

Mum beamed and rushed to kiss him on the cheek. Dad smiled approvingly. Percy took his seat, and Mum began piling far more than just one piece of chicken, one Yorkshire, and a little gravy onto his plate. Percy swallowed his complaint. None of them would ever truly appreciate how much he did for this family.

Christmas, 1995

His flat was tiny. One room. That was it. He’d managed to squeeze a bed in one corner awkwardly butted up against the kitchenette. A desk that doubled as a dining table sat opposite. Percy suspected the bathroom had once been a cupboard before the crumbling walk-up had been repurposed into ‘chique industrial’ flats. Hermes had adopted the top of the bookcase as his perch, nestling himself into the hollow between some exposed piping. He was currently shredding a newspaper for recreation, a repetitive shhhrup echoing in the quiet of the room.

Outside was anything but quiet. The honking of Muggle cars and the rumbling of busses and the yelling of merchants was a constant roar outside the single pane window. But the constancy made it easy enough to ignore.

Percy pushed his glasses up his nose as he scratched out a line on the parchment at his desk. He scribbled a correction in the margin, then read it through again. Shhhrup. He glanced up at Hermes and let out an irritated breath. Then went back to his work.

Yes, it was Christmas. Yes, he could have taken the day off. But he really wanted to finish this report for the office. As Junior Assistant to the Minister of Magic, it was, after all, his job to stay on top of these things. The Minister was counting on him to keep his administration running smoothly. With all the wild rumours and accusations the Ministry had to contend with lately… Well, it was all keeping Percy very busy, and he didn’t want to fall any further behind. He definitely didn’t need any more distractions.

Against his better judgment, Percy’s eyes strayed from the document he was working on to a letter lying crumpled on the far corner of the desk. He could still make out the closing line from where it lay:

Love from your brother, Bill

Percy felt his lip pull up in a sneer. Love. How could any of them claim ‘love’ for him. They had turned their back on him—the whole family had. Turned their back on Percy. Turned their back on the Ministry. Turned their back on their country! They had gone off to join some foolish rebellion, and Percy had been left behind as the sole voice of reason.

‘Rebellion’ was the word Percy used when he was feeling generous. ‘Treason’ was perhaps the more accurate word.

Percy had spent the last six months distancing himself from his family. It was just a matter of time before Dumbledore and Potter and everyone associated with them was brought down, and Percy would have nothing to do with it!

But now Bill had the nerve to write to him of father’s injuries. To encourage him to visit Dad at St Mungo’s and ‘mend fences’. To say that surely Percy should be ‘able to see how important family is in times like these’.

How dare he lecture him? When his father had literally been caught dangerously wounded in the Ministry with some utterly codswollop cover-story about an escaped beast that had been previously confiscated by the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures? How thick did they think the Ministry was? Did they really think that the Ministry didn’t know that Dad had been up to something shady for Dumbledore? Just because they couldn’t prove it, didn’t mean they didn’t know.

And Percy was just supposed to forgive and forget, just because Dad was injured? Shouldn’t it mean the opposite? Shouldn’t something like this be a wake-up call to his family that they had no place getting mixed up in Dumbledore’s insurrection? Shouldn’t they be the ones coming to him to tell him how wrong they’d been? To ‘mend fences,’ as Bill had put it?

Shhhrup.

Percy dropped his quill to the desk and a splotch of ink marred his report for the office. “Do you mind?” he growled at Hermes. “I’m trying to work here.”

Hermes met his gaze. The owl cocked his head, blinked once at Percy, then his talons gripped another strip of newspaper deliberately. Shhhrup.

A growl escaped Percy’s chest. “You know what? Here. If you’re going to do that, why not shred something worth shredding.” His fist crumpled around Bill’s letter, and he chucked it up on top of the bookcase. Hermes hopped to dodge the projectile and ruffled his feathers indignantly.

Percy opened his mouth to say something more, but he was cut off by a tap tap tap on the window. He spun around. Then was immediately annoyed with himself at the burst of hope and joy he’d felt at the sound. He paused for a moment, staring at the dark shape on the window ledge outside the glass. With a sharp release of his breath, he marched over and wrenched the window open.

Errol tumbled in and onto the desk. The ancient owl was gasping for breath, slumped against the lumpy parcel he’d been carrying. Percy merely stood there and stared down at him. A concerned trill came from atop the bookcase.

Percy’s face felt stony as he stared at Errol for a moment. Then his gaze flitted to the brown paper-wrapped package. It was lumpy and soft, and Percy had no doubts as to what it contained. He knew without looking that it would be mustard yellow, because it always was. Knew there would be not a single dropped stitch. Knew how it would feel, how it would smell. He looked back to the owl.

“What are you doing here?” Errol blinked open tired eyes to look at him questioningly. “I told her I don’t want anything to do with any of them.” But Percy’s fingers twitched as a traitorous part of his heart longed to tear open the paper and run his hands across the thick soft wool. Longed to breathe in the scent of his mother, of his home. The urge only served to make him angrier.

“Take it back.” Hermes let out a warning hiss from atop the bookcase, but Percy ignored him. “Take it back this instant,” he snapped at Errol. Errol looked up at Hermes as though begging for help. The old owl was still slumped and panting and looking utterly exhausted.

Hermes fluttered down to land next to Errol and glowered up at Percy. “What? It’s not my fault they sent him on a long flight to carry a package they knew I didn’t want!” he snapped at Hermes. Then he turned back to Errol who had still made no move to leave. “Well? What are you still doing here? Go on. Get out of here! And take this with you. Go!” Hermes snapped his beak angrily at Percy, then turned to nuzzle encouragingly at Errol. Grasping the parcel in his own talons and nudging Errol toward the window, Hermes spared Percy one last disgusted look before he spread his wings and took flight with the package in tow. Errol followed tiredly after.

“Fine. Side with them. See if I care,” he called out the window after Hermes. But Percy stood at the open window for a long time after watching them disappear into the night.

The breeze coming through the window was bitingly cold, but he barely felt it. He stared after the two owls long lost to the darkness. Dimly he registered that they were flying northeast, which was not the direction of the Burrow, but he refused to allow himself to wonder why. It didn’t matter. Whatever his family was up to, it was none of his concern. They had made that quite clear. They had chosen their side. And so had he.

Slamming the window shut, he turned and marched into the kitchenette. He bent to retrieve his dinner from the larder, kicking the cupboard door shut after. He banged the dinner down on the counter and glared down at the packaging.

Mrs Misley’s Magical Meals for One TURKEY ROAST *Tap your wand here and enjoy a warm delicious meal in seconds!

Percy proceeded to prod it so hard with his wand, the packaging ignited. “Aguamenti!” he yelped, smothering the flames in water. He let out a long sigh as what appeared to be half frozen turkey soup leaked from the charred packaging. Cursing under his breath, he scooped the sodden cardboard and some mush that he suspected was supposed to be mashed potatoes into the rubbish bin. He returned to his desk to finish his report.

Christmas, 1996

“Weasley. We’re going,” the Minister snapped through the open kitchen door. Potter had just swept in from the garden and was returning to his seat at the table with the attitude of a petulant child. Scrimgeour was clearly in no better mood; he had not even bothered to come in to say goodbye to the family. The pretence was done with, then. Thank God. Just in time. Because Percy couldn’t have stood a single minute more of it.

Percy stormed through the back door and slammed it behind him, cutting off his mother’s cry of “Percy, wait!” He followed Scrimgeour across the garden, the frozen earth crunching angrily under his feet. Not slowing his speed, he removed his glasses and shook them hard to dislodge the bits of mashed parsnip splattered across them. He brushed another chunk from his hair impatiently before redonning his specs.

Ahead of him, the Minister was walking faster than Percy would have thought possible with his bad leg and walking stick. He seemed as eager to be gone as Percy. Things had clearly not gone well with Potter. So it had all been for nothing. Can’t you see they’re using you, Percy?

Percy wanted to hit something. Fury was bubbling in his chest. All of this had been to give the Minister an in with Harry Potter. And Percy had gone along with it. He’d swallowed his pride and gone along with it because it was his duty. Because he had trusted that it was in the best interest of the Ministry of Magic. But it had all been for nothing. Potter was the most stubborn, pig-headed—

“Dumbledore’s man, through-and-through,” Scrimgeour grumbled under his breath followed by a frustrated growl in the back of his throat. He shook his head and kept walking, pushing his way through the garden gate.

They were all stubborn. The whole family was being utterly infuriating. Why they couldn’t recognise their duty to ally with the Ministry… Why they insisted on sticking to Dumbledore’s secretive agenda when clearly, they were all on the same side… Percy just could not understand them. None of them.

And yet… Percy had walked into the kitchen a little bit ago. And he’d smelled the turkey and stuffing. And he could see the tree covered in fairy lights and Ginny’s paperchains hanging from the rafters in the next room. And he had seen Mum’s famous Christmas pudding waiting on the counter for dessert. And he had seen everybody wearing their Weasley jumpers. And he’d felt Mum hug him, felt her tears on his shoulder, smelled her lemon soap and bergamot scent. And, just for a fraction of a moment, he had felt like a small child coming down to Christmas dinner. And he’d had to avert his eyes to keep from wanting it. Missing it.

Of course the row that started the minute Potter and Scrimgeour had left the room had been very quick to cure him of those thoughts. Barely had the Minister and Potter left the room before Dad had accosted Percy, demanding to know what Scrimgeour wanted with Potter. Dad’s voice was still ringing in his ears. We’re not fools Percy, and neither are you! Surely you can see what’s happening here. Surely you can see that he’s just trying to get to Harry. Can’t you see they’re using you, Percy? Percy felt his teeth grinding together. What did Dad know of duty.

Percy followed Scrimgeour through the gate and swung it shut behind him. The click of the latch echoed in the quiet stillness of the country lane leading into Ottery St. Catchpole. He looked to Scrimgeour who was now stationary, staring out across the frosted hills and shaking his head with a sour look on his face. Percy shoved his hands in the pockets of his cloak and waited. Waited for the Minister to declare the next move. Waited for his next instruction. Waited to do his duty to the Ministry of Magic.

But the Minister merely stood there.

It was a full minute later before Scrimgeour seemed to abruptly remember that Percy was there. He glanced over and looked Percy up and down for brief moment. He didn’t particularly seem to like what he saw. “See you at the office,” the Minister growled. And without so much as a ‘Happy Christmas’, he Disapparated with a pop.

Percy stood on the deserted lane for a long while. It had grown dark and the cold bit through his cloak. He glanced back toward the Burrow. He could just make out the brightly lit kitchen window through the snow-laden vegetation. The shadows of people moved within the square of warm yellow light. Then he turned to stare down the road toward the spot where Scrimgeour’s footprints in the snow disappeared. Beyond stretched a colourless landscape of snowy hills, pastures bordered by low stone walls and scrubby hedges. Wind ruffled his hair and tugged at his cloak.

Percy spared one last glance toward the Burrow before he too Disapparated.

Christmas, 1997

The rumble of the Muggle street below was the only sound as Percy sat with his elbows propped on his desk, his hands clasped together. Even Hermes was quiet tonight. The owl was staring at the window as though expecting something.

Percy too glanced to the window. But there was nothing there. Just as there had been nothing there the last time he’d checked.

The night stretched on, and still nothing came. No owl. No letter. No soft lumpy package.

Had Mum finally given up on Percy and not made him a jumper this year? Had something happened to Errol? Had something happened to his parents? Would he even hear about it if it had?

Percy reached up to pull off his glasses. There was a clatter as he dropped them next to his rapidly cooling and hardly touched tray of Mrs Misley’s Magical Meals for One.

And he buried his face in his hands and wept.

Christmas, 1998

We are so late. The bathroom door was shamelessly open. Percy had a clear line of sight from where he sat on the foot of the bed. He chewed a thumb nail as he watched her getting ready, his knee bouncing up and down restlessly. She kept saying she was almost ready, but her sparkling emerald green dress was still spread on the bed next to him awaiting its wearer more patiently than was Percy.

He cocked his head as Audrey leaned across the bathroom vanity to check her lipstick in the mirror. It gave Percy a rather pleasant view of her backside, clad only in knickers and sheer stockings. Her eyes caught his in the reflection and she winked, a small smile curving up her newly red painted lips. Percy thought she looked rather smug as she turned her attention to her hair.

“You look great. You don’t have to put so much effort in. They’re going to love you,” he assured her.

“I know,” she replied, turning around to look at him directly as she ran her brush through straight dark hair. “Everybody loves me. I just feel like looking pretty.”

“I’m just saying, no one else is going to be particularly dressed up. We’re not really that kind of family.”

“Sometimes, I want to dress up for me, you know?” She laid the brush down on the vanity and gave her reflection one final look over. “It’s not always about dressing up for other people.” She smiled at herself, then marched into the bedroom and picked up the dress, stepping into the skirts.

Percy chewed his lip as he watched her. “Okay. I’m just saying that if you didn’t want—”

“Oh, my God!” Audrey straightened, and she turned to look at him as though she’d just realised something. There was a moment’s pause as she studied him, the dress bunched around her hips as though she’d quite forgotten what she was doing. Percy tried not to stare at her lace-clad breasts.

“What?�� Percy asked, startled by her sudden outburst.

Audrey didn’t speak for a moment. She shimmied her arms into the sleeves, eyeing him with a sudden frown on her face as she did so. Still with her eyes on him, she reached around to zip up the back. Percy made to stand to help her, but she just shook her head and did it herself, arching her back to reach the top. But never once did her eyes stray from his face. “You’re nervous!” she accused him.

“What? I’m not—”

“You are! You’re completely terrified! You think they’re going to hate me!”

“I don’t think they’re going to hate you.” He pushed his glasses up his nose.

“Yes, you do! You’ve been dragging your feet about introducing me to your parents for weeks! You don’t think I’m going to fit in with your family!”

“It’s not that…”

“Then what?” she demanded, but she had a teasing smile on her red lips.

“They’re going to love you,” he said weakly.

“You said that already,” Audrey insisted. She was refusing to let him off the hook. “Fess up. You’re ashamed of me.” Her broad grin acknowledged that no man in his right mind could ever be ashamed of her and she knew it.

“You’re going to fit in great with my family,” Percy assured her, shifting uncomfortably. He found his gaze traveling to his shoes. “You’re… you’re going to fit in better than I do,” he added in a mumble.

He glanced up at her just in time to see her teasing smile faulter. “Percy…” she said gently.

Percy looked away again, leaning his elbows on his knees. He felt the bed beside him sag as she sat next to him and felt her eyes on the back of his neck. Then a gentle hand he didn’t deserve caressed the hair back from his forehead.

“It’s not you I’m ashamed of,” he managed softly. “It’s me.” She was so quiet, he had to turn to see if her face would show what she thought of that. But she was merely gazing at him sombrely, her expression inviting him to go on. “You’ve only ever seen me at work or among friends. But my family…” Percy bit his lip and stared at the ceiling as he tried to consider the words. “I’ve done terrible things. Said terrible things. I turned my back on them. For three years, I did everything I could to distance myself from them. But if I had just done what I should… Maybe I could have helped… Maybe I could have stopped… Maybe he’d…” Maybe he’d still be alive. But Percy couldn’t say those words aloud. Not even to Audrey. Especially not to Audrey.

“Anyway. Family gatherings… They can be… hard. Everybody pretending like none of it ever happened.”

Audrey took a moment before she answered. “Has it occurred to you,” she said at last. “That maybe they’re not pretending? That maybe they’ve just moved on? Forgiven you? And that maybe it’s time to forgive yourself?”

Percy glanced at her, and she was gazing at him. He saw no doubt in her eyes. She merely seemed as though she were waiting for him to cotton onto something that was terribly obvious to her.

“How could they possibly forgive me for something like that?” he asked her. And he looked into her eyes, desperate for them to hold an answer to a question he had asked himself a hundred thousand times, but never uttered aloud before this moment.

Audrey just smiled as though this were the most obvious thing in the world. “Because they love you, you tosser.”

Percy felt a huff of disbelief escape his chest, and he turned away, shaking his head. “You don’t even know them.”

“I don’t have to. I know that you love them. And I know that I love you. And I have excellent taste, so obviously they agree with me.”

He looked at her sidelong. And the grin on her face was enough to break through the gloom. He laughed in spite of himself. Reaching up, he cupped her cheek in his hand and her smile shifted from mischievous to affectionate. They simply gazed at each other for a long moment, smiling like idiots.

“I love you too,” Percy said at last.

“Well, good,” Audrey shrugged. “Because it would be really inconvenient if I loved you and you didn’t love me ba—”

But Percy cut off whatever wisecrack she might have had in store for him next by pulling her face close and kissing her hard on the mouth. He felt her grin against his mouth before submitting, and her lips softened against his.

Percy had kissed her a thousand times and would kiss her a thousand times again, and still he would not have gotten over the thrill at feeling her lips against his. The way they always moved and parted in time with his as though to a well-choreographed dance he couldn’t remember learning. The way they made his heart pound and his stomach clench. The way they made him feel like the most important man in the world and the humblest, all at the same time.

Loosing himself in the feeling, Percy buried his hands in her silky hair and felt hers running up his back. He deepened the kiss contentedly, but she pulled back slightly, and he felt rather than saw her smile. “I thought you said we were going to be late,” she whispered against his lips. “I know how you hate being late.”

Percy groaned. He did hate being late. Audrey laughed softly, pecking him lightly on the lips before pulling back fully. They allowed themselves one moment more to simply look into the other’s eyes. Audrey’s gaze darted down to his lips and a funny smile tugged at her cheek. Percy thought she was considering kissing him again, but she stood up determinedly. “Give me a minute to fix the damage you’ve done to my hair and makeup. Then we can go.”

Percy threw his head back and drew in a deep steadying breath as she disappeared into the bathroom again.

They arrived at the garden gate to the Burrow hand-in-hand. Percy felt Audrey give his hand a gentle squeeze before they walked up the garden path. The door was flung open before they could knock.

“Oh, Percy, thank goodness!” Mum flung herself on him, hugging him tightly there on the front stoop. “I was getting worried! You’re never late.” She pulled back and looked him over as though assuring herself that he was alive and whole.

“Sorry, Mum—” Percy began. But before he could get another word out, she caught sight of Audrey standing just behind him.

“Oh, and you must be Audrey! At last! We’ve been telling Percy to bring you for weeks and weeks!” Percy found himself pushed aside as she dove to hug Audrey. But somehow he didn’t mind one bit. Audrey smiled at him from over Mum’s shoulder.

“Oh, you’re so pretty!” Mum said, patting her own hair back as she took Audrey in up and down. “Come in! It’s freezing out here! I’ve knitted you a jumper. I so hope it fits; Percy wasn’t much help when I asked your size.”

“I don’t doubt it,” Audrey laughed, shooting Percy a mischievous grin. “Men are so useless at that sort of thing, aren’t they?” The pair of women walked into the house arm-in-arm in happy excited conversation as though they’d known each other for years, and Percy followed behind.

There was a rush of movement and sound through the crowded kitchen as they entered. Calls of ‘Hello’ and ‘Happy Christmas’ echoed in the cramped space. Percy found himself separated from Audrey as Dad came up to hug him and Charlie slapped him on the back and George poured him a drink.

His head felt like it was floating in all the noise and conversation. Before he could respond to one person, another was greeting him. Percy craned his head to check in on how Audrey was getting on; he saw her shaking hands with Harry and, to her credit, she did not appear painfully starstruck like most people were when meeting him.

Drinks and half-eaten appetisers were claiming spots at the table, but few people were seated yet. Percy couldn’t help it as his gaze travelled to a particular empty chair at the table. He was sure it wasn’t empty by coincidence. No one wanted to sit in that particular spot.

“Hey! Looking good, Audrey!” called Bill across the room, cutting into an unpleasant reverie. Percy turned back to look over to Audrey himself. She had slipped on her first of what was sure to be many Weasley jumpers and was grinning at him from across the room. The lumpy olive-green wool far from complimented her sparkly emerald dress, but she wore it with so much confidence, the runway models were sure to be adopting the style by next season. A small cheer went up around the room and Audrey’s grin widened. “Percy, dear! Come and get yours,” Mum called, and Percy picked his way through the throng to them. As Mum turned to collect another jumper from under the tree, Percy felt his arm wrap around Audrey’s waist. She squeezed him back.

As he’d known it would be, the soft wool was a mustard yellow. As he’d known it would, it had not a single dropped stitch. As he’d known it would, it smelled of lemon soap and bergamot. “Thanks, Mum,” he said softly, kissing her on the cheek.

“Alright, come along, all of you!” said Mum, waving him off, though she had a touch of a blush on her cheeks. She began shepherding them all toward the dining table. “It’s dinner time!” she called to the room at large. Another cheer and some laughter as the group migrated toward the table.

Percy followed suit, but he paused to look around the room. For a moment, he just stood there, clutching his Weasley jumper to his chest. He looked around the table as his family took their seats, all chatting amongst themselves, all laughing and smiling and relaxed. Their faces were brightly lit by the candles on the dining table. And before them was a spread of all of his favourite foods. And Ginny’s paperchains were hanging artfully from the rafters. And the fire was crackling merrily. And everything was perfect.

And yet everything was wrong.

Percy felt his feet faulter. They seemed unable to make the final few steps to the table. His breath was coming fast and shallow. He felt as though he were caught midway through Apparition. As though a tight rubber band was compressing his chest. He didn’t belong here. He didn’t belong in this warm and loving house, surrounded by warm and loving people. He didn’t deserve it. How could it be that he was here and someone else was not. When it had been Percy who had had squandered their last chance to ever again have them all together in this room.

“Er, Perce,” said George as he pulled out a chair across from him. Percy blinked several times as he tried to clear his head enough to really take him in. George gestured to his lips. “Trying out a new shade? I think red clashes with your hair a bit.”

Percy merely continued to blinked at him bemusedly for a moment. Then he felt heat flood to his face, and his hand shot up to scrub at his lips. Several snickers sounded around the table. He glanced apologetically to Audrey only to find her grinning at him in a way that reminded him uncannily of Fred. He sighed. His glare was made rather less effective by the traitorous smile tugging at his lips. “You didn’t tell me on purpose.”

Audrey shrugged. “I thought the shade suited you quite well.”

The kitchen was filled with laughter and the screeching of chairs on the floor as everybody took their seats. George was still sniggering and Dad was smiling fondly at him and Mum was piling food onto his plate and Audrey was beaming at him. As fast as it had come, the rubber band around his chest was gone. When he at last sat down, he felt he was exactly where he belonged.

And when Audrey sat herself in the empty seat beside him— the one seat everyone had been avoiding— no one seemed to mind at all.

Least of all Percy.

#harry potter fanfiction #hp fanfic #canon compliant #percy weasley #weasley family #percy/ audrey #christmas fic #christmas #angst #character arc #family

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spacexcowgirl · 4 years

Text

All About The Chase - F.W.

Fred Weasley x Reader

Summary: Y/N will do anything for her best friend—and crush—Fred Weasley. Even if that means fake dating him so he can catch the eye of her cousin.

Word Count: 6.5k

Warnings: Light swearing, one allusion to sex (blink and you’ll miss it), brief mention of intoxication (again, blink and you’ll miss it), super mean awful cousin, food, a little angsty with a happy ending,

A/N: For the anon who asked for Fred fake dating his friend to make her relative jealous! I decided to make her the twins age, and I may have went a little overboard with the cousin rivalry, but oh well. Thank you for feeding into my love of cliches! Also, I played around with using third person rather than second, it just felt right for this one. Pictures are from Pinterest.

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When Y/N was six years old, her parents—well, Santa—got her the most amazing art set. She had always liked to draw, and now she had an array of more colors than she could even really name. When her family was set to head to her Aunt’s house for Christmas dinner, she packed up all of her new markers, a stack of fresh paper, and a few of her drawings she was most proud of to show off.

The night had started wonderfully. She got a few more gifts from her grandparents, a beautiful doll from her aunt and uncle, and enough sweets and candy to last her months. When it was time to finally eat, Y/N left all of her new toys and her cherished art set in her relatives’ living room. Y/N doesn’t remember much about the dinner—why should she? It was a decade prior—but what she does remember vividly is the excitement that bubbled up in her tiny body when her mother suggested she go grab some of her artwork to show off.

Y/N slid out of her chair and raced into the living room. Only when she got there did she find all of her finished art completely destroyed, covered in scribbles from her new markers. Her brows had furrowed and her eyes welled with tears, and that’s when she heard it. The sinister little cackle of her cousin, Annalise. Y/N turned on her heels and saw the girl, uncapped marker in hand, looking at her as if she was the most pitiful thing in the world.

Y/N returned to dinner empty handed, claiming she had forgotten the drawings at home—even though her parents were certain she hadn’t. Annalise returned with an innocent smile and a portrait of their Nan in hand—one Y/N was certain she just made with her markers—and all of the adults cooed and awed at the small girl’s talent.

A few years later, Y/N was set to star in their primary school’s theater production. Looking back, she now recognized that her landing that part had little to do with any real talents she had, and more to do with how adults always seemed to fawn over her. She was always revered as ‘just the cutest little thing!’ Which evidently preceded talent at the ripe age of eight.

Right before she was set to go on stage and deliver her three lines (that’s all a star can really handle so young, right?), she found her angel wings shredded and her halo headband bent in half. The teacher didn’t have any time to fix her costume, so in a fluster she threw out her part all together, and sent Y/N to stand with the rest of the year 3 ensemble. It didn’t take long for Y/N to catch Annalise’s eye amongst the other students, only she was smirking. Y/N had to force her eyes back out onto the crowd and desperately search for her parents to keep herself from bawling on the spot.

As if things couldn’t get any worse between the pair of cousins, when Y/N was ten, her and her parents were astonished to find a letter tucked into their usual mail, accepting her into the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The letter gave an answer to the many strange things Y/N had been able to make happen with her emotions alone, and her chest swelled with pride to learn just how special she truly was. Not to mention, this was finally her opportunity to escape Annalise once and for all.

Until, it wasn’t. Y/N didn’t know that Annalise was a witch as well until the two families spotted each other on the platform, preparing to send both of their daughters off. Neither parents had revealed the truths of their daughters abilities to the other prior, because they knew it must be kept with the upmost secrecy. Y/N’s parents and Annalise’s parents were overjoyed to know their little girls wouldn’t be all alone, and they had someone to share their apprehensions with. Y/N and Annalise were far less enthused by the news.

A little over five years later, Y/N sat in the Gryffindor Common room, rifling through beginning of the year work that had already been assigned. In the half-decade since she’d started at Hogwarts, she had managed to avoid Annalise as best she could. It turned out to be somewhat easy, seeing as they were sorted into different house. Still, whenever Gryffindor and Ravenclaw were forced into classes together, Y/N couldn’t help but feel dread pooling in her stomach. Annalise was always sure to make those classes a living hell for her.

Y/N’s attention was pulled from her work from the sound of a small group of people bounding into the common room. She glanced back over the couch, only to see her best friends—Fred and George—laughing and pushing each other around.

“She totally wants me!” Fred argued, a cocky grin alit on his face.

“Oh, please, she hates your guts, mate.” George teased back.

Fred looked as if he were about to respond, until his eyes met Y/N’s across the room. A more genuine smile found its way onto his face as he tugged his brother towards the couch, then plopped down next to her. George then took a seat in one of the chairs across from them. Y/N neatly gathered her work into a pile, knowing for certain there was no way she would make any progress with them around.

“Y/N, will you please tell my dear brother that your cousin is absolutely mad for me, she just has a different way of showing it?” Fred threw his arm lazily around the back of the couch, right behind her, as he looked at her expectantly.

Y/N couldn’t help the sour mood that the conversation immediately put her in. There was two reasons for this; one, the most obvious, any topic that involved Annalise always brought her down. She couldn’t help it, and she tried not to hate the girl, but everything about her was draining. The second reason was that Y/N was absolutely head over heels for Fred. She had been ever since he pranked Graham Montague for making her cry in third year. The idea of Fred and Annalise together was truly the epitome of her worst nightmare.

“I don’t know, she might really just hate you.” Y/N shrugged, doing her best to keep her voice even and her face straight. Her words caused Fred to scowl and George to erupt into fits of laughter.

“Oh come on, not you too!” Fred whined as he threw his head back.

“What do you even see in her anyways?” Y/N wasn’t sure she wanted to know the answer to the question, but she couldn’t help but ask it.

“Well, she’s quite fit.” This answer earned a swift slap to the arm from Y/N, which only made Fred snicker. “And!” He continued, persistent to point out that looks weren’t all he cared about. “She’s feisty, and smart. And, she acts completely not interested in me.”

“So that’s why you like her?” Y/N snorted.

“Ah, dearest Y/N, one day you’ll learn that it’s all about the chase.” Fred began to twiddle some of her hair between his fingers.

“There’s plenty of girls who aren’t interested in you! You could ‘chase’ any of them.” Y/N reasoned, batting his hand away.

��You’ve got that right.” George snorted, causing his brother to shoot him a glare.

“Well, even if that were true, I’ve got my sights set on her.” Fred shrugged.

“Well, if you really want Annalise to go out with you, you should just date me.” Y/N teased as she sat forward, beginning to pluck through her papers once again. When no one laughed or responded, she quickly shot her eyes up. “I’m only kidding.”

“No, no that could work.” Fred sat up abruptly and pointed a finger towards her. “Y/N, you’re a genius!”

“I’m really not.” Y/N shook her head quickly. “That might breach the list of dumbest things I’ve ever said.”

“Yeah, right, don’t forget we’ve been around you drunk, Y/L/N. That doesn’t even make the top ten.” George grinned at her, but her nerves kept her from even smiling at his little joke.

Y/N was growing desperate now, because neither of the twins were brushing off her silly joke. Fred was looking at her as if she just handed him the key to solve all of his problems, and George was doing nothing to tame his brother. Y/N glanced expectantly between the two of them as she drew her bottom lip between her teeth.

“Come on, what better way to make her jealous than to see me dating her cousin?”

Y/N had mentioned on occasion the way that Annalise always had to ruin everything for her as a child, but never in full detail. Some part of her knew if she had just been transparent about how truly awful the girl had treated her, Fred would never give Annalise a second glance. But now, he thought they were nothing more than cousins with a small childhood rivalry, and for that he could justify going after her.

“Please, Y/N,” Fred got down on his knees in front of her, dawning his best puppy dog eyes, and put his hands in a pleading gesture. “Be my fake girlfriend for a month—two, tops.”

Y/N chewed harder on her bottom lip as she gazed at him, already feeling her reluctance slipping away. She could never say no to him, especially when he looked so adorable. Y/n breathed out a sigh and dropped her head to look at her folded hands in her lap. All thoughts of self preservation and protecting her heart went out the door; she knew she would say yes to him.

“Fine.” Her voice was quiet, so much so that it took Fred a second to make sure he had heard her properly.

“Really? Just like that? I was about to start bribing you with sugar quills and a month of Herbology homework—”

“Well, if you’re offering—”

“Nope, too late. You agreed before I had to.” Fred grinned at the girl before swooping in and placing a kiss on her cheek. “Now, let’s set up some ground rules.”

Fred began to drone on about what they would and wouldn’t do. Things like holding hands in the corridors, sitting close at meals, kisses on the cheeks and forehead. Which pet names they would and wouldn’t use. Number one, though, was no kissing on the lips.

Y/N only listened halfheartedly as Fred rambled on, offering a slight head nod ever now and then to show she was in agreement. As Y/N thought over just what she had gotten herself into, she realized the next few weeks were going to be awful.

It didn’t take long for rumors of Fred and Y/N’s budding romance to swirl. She often found herself walking hand in hand with him through the corridors, light whispers trailing behind them. Often times, people she had hardly ever spoken to would come up to her and gush about how they always just knew Fred and her would be perfect together. Y/N would always politely smile, then wonder if they could hear her heartbreaking as loudly as she could.

To make matters worse, Fred was the perfect ‘boyfriend.’ Just as she always assumed he would be. He’d carry her books in one arm, swing their intertwined hands with the other, and walk her to each of her classes. At night, he’d sit with her in the library while she poured over her notes for the day—even though she knew he wanted nothing more than to be out pranking with George and Lee. She adored all of the extra time they were getting to spend together, until she’d remember that it was only temporary, and if he were lucky, he’d be doing all of these things with Annalise in a month.

It wasn’t until about three weeks into their agreement that Annalise approached her. Fred had walked her to potions that day, like he always did. He was making her laugh loudly, not caring at all about the many eyes upon them.

“It’s a wonder your mum didn’t ship you and George off when you were toddlers,” Y/n snorted. “It sounds like you two were menaces.”

“Oh, we were.” Fred nodded, a small grin on his face. “But I reckon we were the cutest babies she had so far, so she kept us around.”

Y/N snorted and rolled her eyes before nudging him lightly with her shoulder. They had finally made it to the potions classroom, so it was time for them to part. Fred handed her back her books and dropped her hand, but didn’t walk away until he had placed a soft kiss to her temple.

“Meet you outside of here after to walk to lunch?” He confirmed, but there was no need. It was the routine they had fallen into.

“Mhm.” Y/N gazed up at him, unable to contain the giddy smile on her lips. With that, he turned and began walking down the hallway, but not before shooting her a wink over his shoulder.

Y/N watched his retreating figure, a lovesick grin plastered to her face. Just when she had pulled herself from her daydreams and was about to enter the classroom, she ran hard into a firmly planted body.

“So, you and Weasley are pretty serious then, huh?” Annalise stood with her hands on her hips, a look that read as both disgust and amusement riddled on her face.

“Yeah, you could say that.” Y/N quickly recovered, hugging her books closer to her chest. This year, she had more classes with Annalise than any year prior, seeing as they both received a significant amount of O.W.L.s.

“Hm.” Annalise’s eyes trailed down the hallway where Fred had once been, before letting them snap back to Y/N. “Don’t know how you managed that.”

Y/N felt her blood run cold, but couldn’t find the energy within her to talk any further. So, she simply brushed past Annalise and into the classroom, ignoring the scoff that left Annalise’s lips when she pushed her out of the way. Y/N found her usual seat in the back and trained her eyes ahead, careful to keep her expression calm. That was, until Annalise slid into the seat next to her.

“What are you doing?” Y/N gaped at her. It wasn’t like they had assigned seats, but Y/N had always sat next to Patricia Stimpson. The girl was constantly fussing and nervous, always afraid to make a wrong move, but she certainly wasn’t the worst person Y/N could be stuck with.

“Asked Stimpson to trade seats.” Annalise shrugged nonchalantly, before a wicked grin grew on her face. “Figured we could get some good, cousin, bonding time.”

Y/N wanted to groan, but then Snape was gliding into the room and silencing everyone. She was certain this would be the longest lecture of her life.

When the class ended, Y/N didn’t wait for Fred outside. Instead, she had pushed up from her seat and hurried through the corridors, skipping lunch entirely to go wallow in her dorm room. Annalise had made the lecture a living hell, whether it be from snide comments she’d whisper over or by purposefully ruining their potion, then blaming it on Y/N. Internally, she cursed Fred—although it wasn’t really his fault—for putting her in the position to be in Annalise’s line of fire once again.

Y/N ended up avoiding Fred the rest of the day, scurrying between classes before he could find her. When she was finally done for the day, she wanted nothing more than to hide out in her dorm and cry. That’s exactly what she had started doing, too, before her door creeped open.

Y/N held her breath, assuming it was either Angelina or Alicia coming back before dinner. But, when her mattress dipped slightly from the weight of someone sitting down, she quickly spun around, coming face to face with Fred.

“Darling,” He cooed. It was a nickname he had taken to calling her ever since they started ‘dating,’ although no one was around now, and he was still using it. “What’s wrong? Have you been crying?”

“How’d you get in here?” Y/N croaked, avoiding his question entirely.

“Figured out how to get past the charm ages ago.” Fred rested a gentle hand on her knee. “Then, Ang gave me her key. Said she saw you run up her. So, are you going to tell me what’s wrong? And why’ve you been avoiding me all day?”

At that, Y/N lost it once again. Tears began streaming down her face freely, and she quickly sat up and accepted Fred’s opened arms. He raked his fingers through her messy hair and let her cry on his shoulder, gently soothing her to a place where she’d be able to speak.

“It’s just…” It was on the tip of her tongue. Y/N wanted desperately to tell him the truth about how awful Annalise truly was. But, just like when she was younger and never ratted Annalise out, she just couldn’t now. She didn’t know why it was, but it always felt like if she spoke the words out loud, then Annalise had won. “I’ve just had an awful day.”

“Snape will do that to you.” Fred tutted, clearly assuming her change in behavior post-potions was brought on by the professor. “I’m sorry, love.”

Y/N sniffled a few more times into his shoulder, wishing desperately that he was holding her in a way that wasn’t platonic. She craved nothing more than for him to want her like she’d always wanted him. But that seemed to be just a fantasy. The muggle fairytales she had been told growing up weren’t real, and the wicked witch was winning.

“Why don’t we go for a walk, get some fresh air?” Fred pulled back to look over her face, concern filled in his eyes.

“But, you’re missing dinner…”

“Eh, the house elves love me. I’ll just sneak down to the kitchens and grab something later.” Fred shrugged, a small smile now growing on his face. “You and me, we can make a whole night of it. I’ll sneak some snacks up and we can watch one of those old muggle movies you love so much.”

While Y/N was far from being completely okay, the tenderness he was exhibiting towards her made her heart swell. She knew he had plans with George and Lee that night, some big prank on a few Slytherins, but here he was, throwing it all away for her. He gently reached out and cupped her cheek, brushing a few stray tears away with his thumb. Y/N avoided his eyes, afraid that they would communicate all of the non-platonic love she felt for him, then nodded.

“Perfect.” Fred grinned before jumping up and extended his hand out to her. “Well, let’s go.”

Fred guided her the whole way out of the castle, keeping her close as they walked through the grounds. The autumn air was cool, and at the very second that Y/N shivered, Fred was wrapping an arm around her and pulling her into his side.

They walked around and talked for a little over an hour, giddy smiles on their faces all the while. Fred made her laugh so hard she abandoned all thoughts of Annalise, her mind completely filled with the tall red head beside her. He just had this way about him that could make anything that was possibly wrong seem miniscule. He reminded her of everything good in the world.

Once the sun was fully down and the temperature had dropped significantly, the two could no longer justify being outside in the cold. Fred made a show of wrapping her hands in his own, rubbing them together to bring her some warmth, before guiding her back to the castle.

They parted ways shortly, just so Fred could sneak into the kitchens and Y/N could get the movie set up in the common room. She laid out a few blankets and pillows then pushed the couch back a bit, thankful that it was a Wednesday night and most students seemed to have already gone to bed. When Fred returned, he handed Y/N a plate of food then sat down cross-legged beside her, balancing his own plate in his lap.

Y/N started the movie and dug into her food, giggling lightly at Fred’s ravenous way of eating. He had certainly been hungry earlier, but she needed him, so evidently he pushed his hunger aside. When their plates were finished, they stacked them neatly on the table behind them, before completely turning their attention to the movie.

“Okay, wait, who’s the green girl again?” Fred questioned as he pointed towards the screen, brows furrowed.

“If you would pay attention, you would know.” Y/N giggled. “She’s the Wicked Witch of The West.”

“She’s supposed to be a witch?” Fred crinkled up his nose, confusion clear on his face. “I don’t know any green witches.”

“It’s a muggle movie, Fred.” Y/N lightly rolled her eyes.

“And who’s she?”

“Glinda, the good witch.”

“Okay, I definitely know witches don’t dress like that.” Fred teased, eyeing the woman on the screen’s frilly pink dress

“Maybe I should start.” Y/N giggled, pulling the blanket tighter around her shoulders. “Think I could pull it off?”

“Darling, you’d look beautiful in anything.” Fred winked at her, causing her face to heat up. Some part of her knew it was nothing more than harmless joking, but she couldn’t help the way he lit something alive within her.

“Ya think?” Y/N scooted a bit closer to him, resting her head on his shoulder so he couldn’t see her giddy smile.

“I know.” His voice was soft, and the two of them remained quiet for the next few scenes of the movie.

At some point, the two of them had shifted to lay down in order to get more comfortable on the floor. Fred was laying on his back with one hand behind his head, the other resting idly in between them. Y/N was sprawled out on her stomach, her face down by his feet. Every little bit her eyes would light up and she’d glance back to tell him that her favorite part was coming up, only for him to realize that every part seemed to be her favorite part. Still, he never pointed that out, but instead just smiled fondly at her and nodded.

“Ugh.” Y/N grimaced, a slight shiver running down her spine. “Those monkeys always terrified me when I was little.”

“Oh yeah?” Fred sat up now, leaning closer to her. “You scared now?”

“Psh, no.” Y/N rolled her eyes and glanced back over at him, only to find him slowly inching towards her. She pointed a finger out warningly. “Fred, don’t.”

It was no use, Fred’s hands latched themselves to her sides and began tickling her feverishly. Y/N squealed and tried to wriggle out of his grasp, but it was no use. In the process, she had flipped over onto her back and was now kicking her legs out, trying to get him to stop, but that only egged him on further.

“You sure you’re not scared, Y/L/N?” Fred teased. “I could comfort you, if you were.”

“Freddie! Stop!” Y/N breathed out, tears beginning to pool in her eyes from her laughter.

Y/N now had the front of his jumper balled in her fists, trying desperately to get him to stop. After another minute, he did, and her wriggling ceased. Still, he loomed over top of her while she gripped onto his jumper tightly. Both of them were silent as they stared into each other’s eyes, faces only inches apart. For half a second, Y/N swore she saw Fred’s eyes flicker down to her lips, but then she convinced herself she must have dreamed it.

The sounds of the movie seemed to draw them back to the present, and Y/N let go of Fred’s jumper, causing him to sit up. She followed suit, clearing her throat in hopes of easing the tension between them. Fred was never one to let any awkwardness linger, so he nudged her with his elbow before laying back down in the spot he had been before.

“Cuddle up, Y/N. I’ll keep you safe from the big scary winged monkeys.” He winked as he opened his arms for her.

Y/N rolled her eyes lightly, trying desperately to calm the nerves in her stomach, before obliging and cuddling into his side. She let her head rest on his chest, her hand placed just over his heart, as he tightened his arm around her. Y/N found that she couldn’t pay attention to the rest of the movie, what with Fred pulling a blanket up around them and gently stroking her hair. She was lulled to sleep by the action, finding that she wished every night, she could fall asleep in his arms.

The two were startled awake the next morning by a bout of loud laughter. As Y/N quickly sat up and rubbed the sleep from her eyes, she spotted George, fully dressed in his school uniform, gazing down at them with an amused grin. Fred groaned from where he still laid on the floor, pulling a pillow over his face to block out the light.

“And what’s this?” George cocked his head to the side. “You guys are really taking this ‘fake dating’ thing pretty seriously. Honestly, you’ve got me convinced.”

Fred shot up quickly at that, nervously looking around the common room to make sure no one heard. When he realized it was only the three of them, he let out a breath of relief.

“Come off it, will you? We just fell asleep after watching a movie.” Fred shot his brother a glare.

Y/N felt sick at the reminder that everything between them was fake. Every little moment she had foolishly convinced herself could mean something more was nothing but wishful thinking. Drawing in a deep sigh, Y/N forced herself up and gestured for Fred to move with a flick of her wand. Once he obliged, she flicked her wand again and gathered all of the blankets and pillows before pushing the couch back. Without another word, she stalked back up the steps to her dorm, and prepared herself for another long day.

When Y/N arrived to the potions classroom, her stomach dropped at the sight of Annalise once again in the seat next to her usual one. She gazed around the room, grumbling slightly when she realized she had no other choice but to sit next to the girl.

“Wow, you look like hell.” Annalise sneered when she trudged over.

“Probably because I was up all night with Fred.” Y/N shot back, before truly registering her words. “Not… Not like that.”

Annalise snorted at the insinuation and rolled her eyes. It seemed she was about to say something, no doubt some snide comment, but was cut off by Snape walking into the room. Y/N straightened up and began to listen to the professor drone on, her stomach twisting in knots when she realized what that day’s lecture would entail. A cauldron sat at the front of the classroom, an alluring steam rising off of it. Y/N knew, it was Amortentia.

After giving a brief lecture on it, Snape used his wand to lift the cauldron in the air, slowly letting it stop by each desk for the students to gaze at. He appeared completely uninterested by the kids’ excitement from what they smelled. Finally, it arrived at Y/N and Annalise’s table.

Y/N leaned forward and took a breath in, her nose being filled with the scent of fireworks, chocolate, and the shampoo Fred used. She sat back in her seat and crossed her arms, not needing the reminder that she felt so deeply for someone who didn’t return her affections.

Annalise leaned forward and breathed in a deep breath, a dreamy smile gracing her face. Her eyes flickered towards the front of the classroom, finding Snape deep in conversation with another Ravenclaw student. Quickly, she pulled an empty glass bottle from her bag and dipped it into the cauldron, filling it entirely.

“What’re you doing?” Y/N hissed, sitting up abruptly.

“I’m gonna use it as perfume. So everyone smells what they’re attracted to on me, and wants to be around me.” Annalise shrugged, placing a cork on the bottle and sliding it back into her bag. Y/N knew she could get in loads of trouble for carrying such a dangerous and potent potion, yet she didn’t speak up to turn her in. “Professor Snape, we’re all done back here!”

And with that, Snape was whisking the cauldron away and carrying on with his lecture. Y/N watched Annalise out of the corner of her eye, certain she was up to something from the glint in her eye. Still, like always, she stayed silent.

A week later, all thoughts of Annalise’s odd behavior had completely left Y/N’s mind. She was so caught up in falling for Fred even more each day, she could hardly focus on anything else. The fact that he hadn’t brought up Annalise once since their movie night didn’t go unnoticed to her, and she found herself chasing the familiar hope that maybe he was starting to fall for her too.

“I’ve gotta catch up with Georgie and Lee—they’re still mad I ditched them last week.” Fred informed her as he finished his dinner. “Catch you later?”

She nodded, a bright smile lighting up her face when he swooped down and kissed her cheek before hurrying off. Y/N was so in a daze that she didn’t even notice someone slide in the seat beside her, occupying the space Fred was once in.

“Ah, so you two are still together, are you?” Annalise spoke up, making her presence known. She wore a devilish grin as she feigned a casual act, picking at her nails.

“Obviously.” Y/N rolled her eyes.

“What a shame, I just hate to be the one to tell you this.” She sighed.

“Tell me what?” Y/N’s brows furrowed as she turned to look at Annalise full on.

“Well, I’ve been wearing my perfume, you see.” She craned her neck and circled her hand, gesturing for Y/N to lean in and take a whiff. The smell was undeniable, and as much as she hated being in the presence of her cousin, it kept her reeled in. “Smell Freddie, do you?”

“Why do you care?” Y/N gritted her teeth, hating the way his nickname sounded coming from her mouth.

“Because, he doesn’t smell you.” Annalise shrugged. “In fact, what was it he told me he smelled? Right, fresh ink, my peach shampoo, and… Oh, I can’t remember. It was so hard to pay attention while he was snogging me in that broom closet.”

Y/N instantly dropped the utensils in her hand, ignoring the way they clattered to the ground. The sound drew a few eyes towards them, and Annalise simply smirked at her cousin. Y/N could feel tears welling behind her eyes, but she was also angry. At Fred, for not just telling her that he had finally gotten what he wanted. And at Annalise, for always being so dead set on ruining everything for her.

“What did I ever do to you?” Y/N heard her voice crack, and she felt just as pathetic as Annalise wanted her to feel. When she spoke again, her tone increased significantly. “Why must you always ruin everything for me?”

Some part of her knew she shouldn’t be freaking out, because this had always been the plan. She knew Annalise could never let anything be hers, so she should simply take it in stride and move on. But she couldn’t. She had been so sure that Fred and her were starting to build something real, that she’d finally be with the boy she’d crushed on for years, and now all of that hope was shattered.

“I’m just being a good cousin.” Annalise slapped a hand to her chest, feigning some sort of dignity that she certainly didn’t have. “Really, he was bound to cheat on you at some point. I just made it happen sooner rather than later. You should be thanking me.”

Y/N reached for her wand and gripped it tightly in her fist, ready to point it at her and fire off whatever hex came to mind. In an instant, fear was in Annalise’s eyes and she was cowering back. Professor McGonagall was now rushing forward, shouting her surname and ordering her to stop. In response, Y/N lowered her wand and wiped at her eyes, forcing none of her tears to fall.

“You know what, you’re not even worth it.”

And with that, she was marching out of the Great Hall, ignoring any calls of her name.

When Y/N made it back to the common room, she found George, Lee, and Fred gathered around a small table in the corner. A few other students were littered throughout the room, as well. Y/N almost just stormed right up to her dorm, intent on never speaking to Fred again, but she was sick of always letting people treat her like rubbish. So, right as she made it to the base of the steps, she turned on her heels and marched to their table, causing all of their eyes to fall on her.

“Hello, love—”

“Why didn’t you just tell me?” She shouted, pointing an accusatory finger at Fred. “Godric, I know I agreed to help the two of you get together, but cheating on me? Leaving me embarrassed in front of the whole school? What is wrong with you?”

Lee and George glanced at each other with wide eyes before signally towards their steps and quietly sneaking away. This left Fred in open-mouthed shock, gaping at Y/N in all of her fury.

“I don’t know what—”

“And don’t even tell me how it wasn’t really cheating, because we weren’t really together, I know. But the rest of the school doesn’t know that! Annalise doesn’t know that! And now you’ve fed directly into her only wish of making my life utterly horrible.” Y/N fumed, although her hands were shaking slightly. “So, congrats Fred. You finally got the girl. And Annalise got what she wanted, too. Looks like you two are perfect for each other.”

After saying her piece, she quickly turned around and began making her way back towards her steps. She ignored the many sets of bewildered eyes on her, too angry and hurt to even care. She was only stopped by the feeling of Fred gripping onto her wrist and spinning her back around to face him.

“What the hell are you talking about?” Fred searched her eyes. “I didn’t cheat on you, fake or not.”

“But—”

“Annalise yanked me into a broom closet earlier, asking me to smell her neck like a bloody lunatic. So, I did, because I’m always enticed by strange offers.” He quipped with a smile, but when Y/N shot him a pointed look, he became serious once again. “Not the time? Right, okay. So, I smelled her, and I asked if she cornered me in there just to tell me she nicked your perfume, and she got all huffy, so I left. I didn’t cheat on you. I didn’t even mention it because it was too weird to explain.”

“You…” The words got caught in Y/N’s throat, all of her anger leaving her body. “You smelled my perfume?”

“Yeah, and faintly my mum’s roast, but I didn’t question it.” Fred shrugged. “Why?”

Y/N slowly raised a hand up to her mouth, gazing between where his hand still held her wrist and his eyes. Fred had never been very good at potions, so she knew just saying Annalise was wearing ‘Amortentia’ would explain very little.

“She was wearing a love potion, Fred.” Y/N spoke up, much quieter than before. “You smell what you’re attracted to in it.”

In an instant, Fred’s face was a bright shade of red and he quickly dropped her wrist. His eyes dipped down as he avoided her gaze, and Y/N realized this was the first time she’d ever seen him nervous.

“I…” Fred struggled to find words. “I don’t—I mean, I do… But I didn’t want you to—”

“Ask me what I smell in mine.” Y/N urged, cutting off his rambling. Fred shot his head back up at that, looking at her quizzically.

“What do you smell in yours?” There was a hopeful glint behind his eyes, though his words were soft.

“Fireworks, chocolate…” Y/N took a step closer to him. “And your shampoo.”

The second that Fred fully registered what her words meant, he was closing the distance between the two of them. Y/N let out a shocked giggle as he wrapped her up in his arms, pressing his lips fully to hers for the first time. Although she had seen fireworks before, and she had smelled them almost every time Fred and George were around, neither compared to what it was like to feel fireworks. Y/N’s arms wound around his neck as she pulled him closer to her, prepared to live in the moment forever if she could.

When they pulled apart, there was nothing left either of them had to say. Fred could apologize for putting her through hell for the past few weeks, and Y/N could apologize for being so harsh, but that didn’t matter to either of them at the moment. All that mattered, was they both finally realized what had always been right in front of them.

Very early on in the start of Y/N and Fred’s real relationship, she finally opened up to him about just how awful Annalise really was. His jaw clenched at everything she told him, and he quickly expressed that he never would’ve wanted to be with her had he known. Y/N assured him she didn’t care, because this time, Annalise truly lost.

Although Y/N had been quick to brush off her feud with her cousin, telling Fred it was best to just leave it alone, she couldn’t say she was surprised when she walked into the Great Hall one morning, finding Annalise cowering at her table with neon green hair. It was the exact shade she had used when they were six to ruin Y/N’s drawing. While Fred and George vehemently denied any involvement in the prank, Y/N simply placed a short kiss to Fred’s lips, and quietly thanked him.

TAGS: @theweasleysredhair @letsgotothehop @wand3ringr0s3 @sarcasticallywitty15

#fred weasley #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley x y/n #Fred Weasley fanfic

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sugarcubetikki · 3 years

Text

Marinette Isn’t A Mary Sue.

At least a half of her salters constantly complain about how Marinette’s a Mary Sue and use this as a reason to justify their hate of her character (Ironically, the other half keeps complaining about how her flaws are really really bad). There are a number of so-called “justifiable reasons” on why she’s a Mary Sue. And I’ll just say that I don’t agree with any of them. These reasons can range from “absolute nonsense. are you even watching the show?” to “I can see why you’d think that but you’re ignoring this aspect.” I’ll be breaking down each and every claim that I know of to tell you why exactly I disagree.

Marinette never faces the consequences of her mistakes

This is one of the reasons I downright disagree with and think is absolute nonsense. Marinette is very fallible. The show has portrayed that on multiple occasions. When she makes a mistake, she always faces the consequences and she tries to fix it. That element to her character is what makes her a great role model and it builds up majority of her character arc. I’m not sure what the salters who say this are exactly thinking, but it looks like they really need to re-watch the show.

I’ll give you a fine example. Ikari Gozen is one of my favourite exhibits of her fixing her mistake. She judged Kagami too quick. Based on some presumptions she had on her personality, her feelings towards Adrien and her own jealousy, she judged her intentions too quick and made some really bad choices that episode by trying to sabotage her. In the first half of the episode, a lot of us were quite irritated by Marinette’s behaviour, we genuinely felt bad for Kagami. Which is quite surprising as Kagami is an over-hated character and Marinette is the popular protagonist. But no. The show painted the first half in such a manner that we’d feel sorry for Kagami and reprimand Marinette’s actions. The show itself acknowledged that Marinette was on the wrong side in that moment. That she wasn’t perfect, she was in the wrong. Until Marinette finds out that Kagami had genuine intentions, that she only wanted to be friends with her, she feels bad. She feels really bad with the way she treated her previously. And she realises that her unfriendly treatment could potentially lead to Kagami getting hurt, and yes, it did happen. Kagami did get hurt. And Marinette almost lost the chance of becoming friends with Kagami in that moment. And she would have to live with that guilt for some time if her mother hadn’t called. When her mother called, Marinette stepped up and took the opportunity to prove to Kagami that she was a good friend. That she was sorry. And did want to be friends with her. She made a mistake, faces the consequences and steps up to fix them. The way her relationship with Kagami changes in the course of episodes is a really good example that tells us Marinette is fallible.

Marinette has way too many talents and achievements

Okay. This one is somewhat reasonable and I can see where people are coming from here. However, I still don’t think it accounts for her being a Mary Sue. Here’s why. In Miraculous World, not going to lie, everyone is pretty talented, they’ve all made crazy achievements. Do I need to list now?

Alya runs a famous blog: The Ladyblog. She even earned an interview with Nadia Chamack. Nino is a DJ. He appeared on a show and won! Marc and Nathaniel write/illustrate and publish comics! Ivan, Luka, Juleka and Rose are in a band: Kitty Section. They played live on TV! Adrien’s a teen model, multilingual, pianist, has great physical skills due to fencing and basketball. Even Lila has decent modelling skills, she works for Gabriel now. Kagami is an excellent fencer. That comes from the idea that she’s from a prestigious family world-renowned for fencing. Marinette is pretty close with Jagged because she designed his #1 album for him. Also, she won the contest for Gabriel and was recognised by Audrey Bourgeois. Max literally built a super-intelligent robot with emotions and everything.

So, what does that mean? They’re all Mary Sues and Gary Stu’s. No! We need to remind ourselves that this a kids show and there’s the aspect of encouraging kids to believe in working on their own talents, so they’re encouraged to do anything and push ahead for their dreams. Plus, it doesn’t portray that their talents come naturally, it shows that they work for them and developed these talents through practice.

Clumsiness and stuttering are Mary Sue traits

First of all, not every character that has these traits is a Mary Sue. It always depends on how these traits are represented. Her stuttering isn’t just there for no reason. It’s meant to display her difficulty with expressing her own feelings. We’ve had episodes with Marinette saying how it’s difficult for her to say what she feels. Episodes! And it isn’t just a meaningless detail. It represents her fear. Her fear of rejection. Her fear of being in a relationship and things going wrong. Her fear of many things. Her fear is the reason why she hesitates. Why she stutters. And it tells us that fear is completely natural. Fear in love is something that’s natural.

I'm so tired of not being able to just tell him how I feel! But I'm so scared, Tikki, always so scared he'll reject me.

What if he tells me that he loves me? Or that he doesn't love me? Or that he likes me, but not in that way -

Yeah. Don’t you dare tell me that this fear isn’t depicted in the show. It’s blatantly obvious.

As for her clumsiness, it represents her nervousness. It comes in the form of her fear to mess up. She’s clumsy when she’s nervous. And thus she’s afraid she can mess up due to that clumsiness and nervousness. In the Origins, her insecurity, her nervousness was all displayed in the form of her clumsiness, and she knows she displays her nervousness through clumsiness And she was afraid that her clumsiness could mess things up. That’s why she believed she was disaster-prone. And incapable of being a superhero. Because she was nervous and scared.

She gets too much screen-time

This one I really don’t get. How is having more screen time making her a Mary Sue? She’s the main protagonist. Of course, she’s going to get a lot of screen-time. Her endearing personality and active lifestyle molds the storyline of the show. She’s easy to follow along. If you’re comparing her to Adrien, I’ll say that...Adrien’s a mysterious and sheltered character. Giving him too much screen-time can get boring because he’s stuck at home all the time. We can focus on his family mystery but if the show does it too much, it ruins the mystery aspect of it. I adore Adrien getting screen-time with episodes focused around him too but I’m not going to expect him to get as much as screen-time as Marinette because his character is different, and him getting as much screen-time as her doesn’t work for the style and demographic. And claiming that she’s Mary Sue because of more screen-time is stupidity.

Encouraged jealousy and despising other girls around her crush is a Mary Sue quality

Firstly, the show never encourages Marinette’s jealousy. It doesn’t encourage it. Plus, she’s not jealous in every situation. Only in specific situation when she thinks there’s something off about the person like Chloe and Lila. In Volpina, Marinette had realised she had gone overboard with calling out Lila. And she did face consequences for it. Her akumatization. And she did try to fix her mistake in the end by apologising for overreacting. Lila was the one who turned her away that time. As for Kagami, her jealousy arc changed based on her attitudes about Kagami. During Frozer, she wasn’t jealous per say, upset but not jealous. Frozer made Marinette and Kagami misunderstand each other, that’s why they’re quite petty towards one and other for the next few episodes. In Animaestro, I don’t think Marinette would’ve been that petty if it weren’t for Chloe. But yeah, that episode isn’t one of her best moments. I’m not a fan of it either. In Ikari Gozen, these misunderstandings were cleared and so were the issues from Animaestro, and it’s fine now. On a overall, I don’t believe Marinette would get jealous around everyone. At least, not in a way where she would try to stop them from getting close to Adrien all the time. It depends on the person and situation.

---

In conclusion, Marinette isn’t a Mary Sue. She’s fallible, has flaws, fears and works for her achievements. And that’s on point.

#sugar analyses #miraculous ladybug #miraculous #marinette dupain cheng #ml fandom salt #ml meta #ml analysis #character analysis #anti marinette salt #marinette is not a mary sue

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nanami-says · 4 years

Text

Part V (2/3): chapters 58~60

Chapter 58

[About Sukuna’s fingers resonating with one another]

"The ones that possess an immense presence. The ones that are hiding. The ones that are already taken in by cursed spirits."

⇒ "1) The ones with too big presences. 2) The ones holding their breath. 3) The ones already absorbed by cursed spirits."

I added the numbers for explanation purposes, see below.

"One of Sukuna's fingers was hidden by a cursed spirit. When Itadori consumed the finger in June, it released its cursed energy"

⇒ "The Sukuna fingers that had been absorbed were holding back their power [while] inside cursed spirits. Then they unleashed their cursed energy with Itadori's incarnation [of Sukuna] in June serving as a trigger."

Whelp. On top of extremely simplifying the explanation, they mixed up the kind of Sukuna finger involved here - it was very explicitly stated in the text that it was number 3) "absorbed" (assimilated) fingers, and not 2) "hiding" fingers.

I guess saying that Itadori consumed the finger isn't wrong plot wise but it's actually referred to (here and many times more in the manga) as "incarnation"! The same word also gets used for the death painting brothers.

[Megumi remembering a conversation with Gojou]

"I was surprised you asked me to train you"

⇒ "It's rare for you to ask me for a practice, Megumi"

"To train you" wasn't wrong but Gojou saying "it's rare" here points to it either happening occasionally or having happened in the past and I'm not sure "I was surprised" quite conveys that.

"Are you feeling pressure because of Yuji's growth?"

⇒ "Did you get impatient after getting surpassed by Yuuji?"

Gojou actually says that Yuuji has surpassed Megumi here! Quite a different nuance from just "Yuji's growth".

"Megumi, your skill and potential are probably higher than Yuji's. All that’s left is the mental aspect"

⇒ “You know, Megumi, I think that both your real ability and potential are in no way inferior to Yuuji's. (...)"

Emphasis mine because pray tell, how does one reach the conclusion that "don't lose out to"/"aren't inferior to" equals to "are probably higher". “Skill” was fine btw but I’d probably go with “mindset” for the last line, personally.

[Gojou explaining why he thinks Megumi doesn’t know how to make a serious effort giving the baseball game as an example]

“Why did you bunt? You sacrificed yourself so that Nobara could advance. Well, good for you"

⇒ "Why did you make a sacrifice bunt? Did you want to advance Nobara to the next base even if it meant you'd be out yourself? That's commendable"

The nuance for the last line was just different - the word used there usually is just used as praise, either genuine or ironic but imo “good for you” has a different meaning. Also he says “out” but it’s written as “death” (although that is sometimes the case in baseball as well.)

“But no matter how many allies you have around you, you'll always die alone"

⇒ “(...) when you die, you’re alone”

I tried to phrase it a bit closer to the original because I feel like the nuance may just be different for this line but can’t quite put a finger on the how.

[Gojou to Megumi]

"To die and then win, and dying victoriously are two completely different things, Megumi"

⇒ "To win by dying and to win even if you die are completely different, Megumi"

Emphasis by Gege. Ngl, I had no clue what the English was trying to say here… This is most likely what the line actually meant.

[Megumi regaining his consciousness after he blacked out from getting hit]

"How long was I out? Was my divine dog destroyed? No, my technique's finished"

Actually "my technique got undone". Putting it as "has finished" is imo both unclear and misleading. Similar situation as in ch. 1 (refer to part I).

[Lead-up to Megumi using a domain expansion for the first time]

"A jujutsu sorcerer's growth never comes easy"

⇒ "The growth curve of a sorcerer isn’t always gentle"

Mostly, the line was more intricate in the original but also the grammatical construction used here that they mistranslated as "never" actually means "not always [necessarily]” instead.

"Here we go!!"

Not really incorrect but it's kinda generic and I guess something like "I'm gonna do it!" is closer nuance wise.

"With a firm base, skill and imagination, a person can change thanks to the slightest of events"

⇒ "A firm foundation, a handful of sense, and imagination. Then, [even] with a most insignificant opportunity, a person will change"

A pity they simplified "a handful of sense" into just "skill" here. Overall not really incorrect but I wanted to propose something that imo better conveys the original wording and vibe.

“Area expansion”

…”area”? What? Obviously this is actually “domain expansion”. I just don’t have words.

“Think bigger! My technique’s interpretation!”

First sentence actually referred to the second one, so it’s actually something like “Expand it!! The technique’s interpretation!!”

[Megumi to the cursed spirit after his shikigami deals it a finishing blow]

"Divine dog's claws even hurt it...You were no match!"

"(...) So something like piercing through you when you're not even paying attention was easy"

Less excitement, more dismissiveness, I’d say? Also, for the divine dog it’s actually specified that it’s “divine dog (totality)” and not just simply “divine dog”. The term appeared before in ch. 47.

Chapter 59

[Megumi talking about what he considers the basic rule for human interactions in a flashback to his middle school years]

"Basically, you shouldn't cross any line that violates another person's dignity. You should acknowledge each other's mutual existence. That's the rule. You ignored it and fed your stupid ego"

⇒ "In short, it's drawing a line in order not to jeopardise one another's dignity; [it’s] a process through which both parties can coexist. That's what the "rule" is”. You broke it, throwing your weight around and forcing everyone to walk on eggshells around you”

For the first sentence, Megumi says “it’s drawing a line”, so the nuance here was probably closer to “creating boundaries” rather than “crossing boundaries” like in the official English release. For the second sentence, the original literally says “the process through which one another’s existence is achieved”, so rather than acknowledging each other’s existence the sentiment is probably closer to live and let live? For the last sentence, they once again simplified it to the barest bones.

"I'll definitely tell Ikezawa and everyone today that we're not their lapdogs"

“You got this, Aida!”

"But we might be the next punching bags, so don't go overboard!"

Should be “Ikezawa and others'' and definitely “that I’m not their errand boy” for the smallest boy’s first line. If all of them were already being treated as errand boys like the way using the plural form here implies, the other student’s reply wouldn’t make sense.

[After Tsumiki sees Megumi has beaten up delinquents once again]

“You said you wouldn’t pick fights anymore”

“You’re not my mom”

⇒ (...) “Don’t act like you’re my guardian”

Imo the distinction is significant because there’s a possibility that Tsumiki as the older of the two probably did feel responsible for Megumi to an extent and acted accordingly, as if she was his guardian.

Also, he doesn’t actually say “mom” - this is not the first time where the official English release opts for a gendered phrase where the original uses a neutral form. (Like making Yuuji say his grandpa was like a dad to him when he actually said parent all the way back in ch. 2.)

[Megumi’s thoughts from back in the middle school]

"I hate bad guys with no brains and zero emotional capability. Walking around feeling proud. Disgusting."

⇒ "I hate bad people. The way they act like they’re superior, with their complete lack of imagination or sensitivity. Disgusting”

I guess I really dislike the way they worded it here, especially the “no brains” part since Megumi wasn’t really talking about intellect or smarts here but about imagination (and sensitivity), which he literally describes as being akin to "vacant lot", "empty lot", "raw land”, which is much more evocative.

"I hate goody-goodies forgiving bad people, justifying mercy. Makes me wanna puke"

⇒ "I hate good people. The way they forgive such bad people and perceive that act of forgiveness as something noble. They make me sick"

Mhm, way to just simplify the heck out of the whole line. I’m extra bothered by their use of “goody-goodies” here since this is yet another appearance of a rather formal word for “good person” (善人/zennin) in the original and which I’ve observed to be a very important part of the world-building in jjk. I discuss it at length in various previous installments, with notable examples including: ch. 9 (Megumi about Yuuji and about the kind of people he wants to save - part I), ch. 31 (Nanami and Yuuji’s conversation in the aftermath of the Junpei incident - part III 2/2), ch. 36 (Panda about Yuuji - part IV 2/5).

“Tsumiki, you’re a perfect example of a good person.”

See, the word he uses here to describe Tsumiki is the same as in the line above (善人) but because back then it got translated as “goody-goodies”, you’d never guess it since the vibes are just that different.

[Megumi reminiscing about meeting Gojou for the first time]

"In the first grade, my dad and Tsumiki's mom got married and separated just as quickly"

⇒ "When I was in the first grade of elementary school my father and Tsumiki’s mother, our respective single parents, got together and disappeared into thin air"

The original doesn’t mention marriage OR separation. Heck, especially for the second one, it doesn’t even come close to mentioning it?? I have no clue where they got this from.

What I put as “got together” can also be translated as “to have a liaison with (a man or a woman)” (among others). Since Tsumiki’s surname is also “Fushiguro” in middle school, it’s possible that they were actually married and many Japanese fans seem to think that as well but it’s not explicitly stated, at least not here, so those are most likely speculations.

As for mysterious “separation”, the word used here actually means "disappearance (of people intentionally concealing their whereabouts); unexplained disappearance", so imo the whole section means their parents got together and at some point both disappeared. As we learn at one point in the manga Touji first and Tsumiki’s mum sometime later.

(Btw, one fan scanlation used “evaporation” here instead and while this is another possible translation of the word in question, imo from the context it’s clear that the intended meaning was the “unexplained disappearance” instead.)

Lastly, Megumi uses kind of formal expressions when referring to both his own dad and Tsumiki’s mum, which imo is indicative of the emotional distance.

[Tiny Megumi about teenager Gojou]

"A weirdo with white hair said"

⇒ "A suspicious man with white hair"

Needless to say, he doesn't actually call Gojou a weirdo.

[Gojou about Touji]

"But he's a loser that just works for me. He left the family and had you."

⇒ "He's enough of a good-for-nothing to take aback even me. Basically, he left home and then had you."

Emphasis mine. Again, I literally have no clue where they got the translation they went with for this. “Works for me” - just what?? (Btw, one of the fan scans available for this had the latter part of this line mistakenly imply that Gojou had Megumi leave his house. The bit definitely referred to Touji leaving the Zen’in family.)

"You're something your dad used against the Zen'in family. His trump card"

⇒ “You’re something your father kept as his strongest card against the Zen’in family”

A bit of a different nuance than “your dad used” suggests.

"The divorce money makes sense now. I was sold to this Zen'in family"

⇒ "The mystery behind the funds for their disappearance got solved. Apparently, I was sold to this Zen’in family or something"

Again, the word for “divorce” doesn’t make an appearance ANYWHERE in this chapter, least of all this page. ...How.

Once again - fan scans had this as money that also evaporated but neither it nor the official English release make sense, considering the line is followed up by “I was sold” as the explanation. So yeah, imo the first sentence definitely referred to the money Megumi considered necessary for Touji (and co’s) disappearance.

[Gojou referring to Touji basically selling Megumi off]

"Sucks, doesn't it?"

"Yeah, it's annoying. Especially your attitude."

⇒ “It pisses you off, doesn’t it”

“Yeah, it does piss me off. Especially that lack of delicacy of yours”

I mentioned it multiple times but imo repetition in the original text tends to be done on purpose and as a device and imo this was another example where this was the case. Megumi borrows Gojou’s words here. (Which mean “to be irritated, “to be angry” and not “it sucks”.)

[Megumi continuing about Gojou]

"But that annoying guy wrote off the situation with the Zen'in family. He made a promise that we would work as sorcerers in the future. We would be collateral and receive financial support from Jujutsu High in exchange."

⇒"This man pisses me off, but it was him who cancelled the deal with the Zen'in family, and made it so we would receive financial support from the technical college with me working as a sorcerer in the future [serving] as collateral for it”

I don’t know why they’d translate it as “we would work” here since who the “we” would be supposed to even entail other than Megumi himself? Surely not Tsumiki. Or Gojou. Also, putting the next bit as “we would be collateral” makes it sound kind of dehumanising to me, ngl, whereas Megumi was talking about his labour here.

Also, the same phrase for “pisses off” as above got used once again, which makes it three times in a row, so imo that was definitely a deliberate stylistic choice on Gege’s part.

“Jujutsu sorcerers. How stupid.

⇒ "Sorcerers, what even. How nonsensical"

Just proposing an alternate wording.

[Megumi about the curse Tsumiki got hit by]

"All we knew was that we didn't know anything. Tsumiki still sleeps."

The word used to describe Tsumiki’s state literally means “became bedridden”, which imo heavily implies she fell into a coma. “Still sleeps” is most likely a misunderstanding on the translator’s part since the word sounds like it’d mean that (but it doesn’t.)

[Megumi about Tsumiki]

"Always smiling and saying nice things"

⇒ “Always smiling and spouting lip service”

Another case where the translator seems to have translated the word based on the way it’s written as opposed to checking the actual meaning. (The “nice things” phrase.)

"It's not a bad thing to not forgive people. Megumi, that's your way of showing kindness."

⇒ “Not being able to forgive people isn’t a bad thing. That’s your kindness, Megumi”

It wasn’t just “not to forgive” but “not being able to forgive”! Which imo would imply the next line’s nuance was something similar to Tsumiki considering Megumi’s inability to forgive people to be something that stems from his kindness (e.g. because he can’t stand seeing injustice).

"Even spinning my short-comings in a positive light."

⇒ “She would affirm even my nature"

Imo this line was more of Tsumiki accepting Megumi as he is or at least that’s what the line says - makes sense with what I proposed for the line above too. Translating it the way they did in the official release kind of feels like overinterpreting.

"But even she would get upset when I hurt somebody. I was annoyed by the hypocrisy"

⇒ "But even such Tsumiki would get genuinely angry (...). I would get annoyed thinking she was a stickler to the rules and a hypocrite"

Emphasis mine. The phrase that the translators seem to have skipped here and I translated as "stickler to the rules" literally means "to play it safe", "to avoid trouble at all cost".

"Yeah, I know. I was immature. I'm sorry so please wake up already"

“I’m sorry, I was a brat. I’ll apologise so just wake up already, stupid older sister”

Just a different nuance and tone for the whole line.

"All I did was get rid of the Yasohachi bridge curse. My sister's sleeping curse is a separate matter."

⇒ "This Yasohachi bridge curse was probably only overlapping with it, and the curse that caused Tsumiki to fall into a coma probably hasn't been lifted"

The official English release makes it sound like sleeping (or more correctly, the coma) was the nature of the curse that Tsumiki was put under, whereas imo the original indicates it just as its effect, which is an important distinction.

“As for the finger and Itadori…”

⇒ “What should I tell Itadori about the finger...”

The “tell”, “say” is only implied here but it’s pretty clear from the context that was the meaning. Also, he explicitly says “to Itadori” here.

[After the Yasohachi bridge curse got defeated by Megumi who then retrieved the Sukuna finger from it]

"All of sudden I feel a presence. Did the finger get out of the barrier? Whoever took out the finger bearer is quite formidable."

⇒ “The huge presence that appeared all of sudden... Did Sukuna's finger get out of the barrier? If it was a sorcerer that exorcised the finger's host, they must be quite good......."

Emphasis mine on bits that got cut out in the official release. Because Esou was facing off Nobara, he probably assumed it’s likely there may be other sorcerers present and imo that’s what this line also suggests.

"Even so... The finger... Even if they fought against a special-grade and won, They more than likely didn't come out of it unscathed. I hope they're okay."

Just to clarify that the word used for “they” in the original indicates the speaker knows the people in question, so those were Nobara’s thoughts here.

Chapter 60

[Esou to Yuuji and Nobara after he activates his wing king technique]

“Start running and turn your backs to me”

“Run. With your backs turned to me” would fit better nuance and mood wise. (Esou didn’t want to show his back to anyone so now he’s’ forcing them to show theirs.)

[Nobara to Yuuji after he scooped her up because she couldn’t run as fast as he could]

“I got your back”

“Okay”

“Okay” isn’t incorrect per se but the word has the nuance of “I’m counting on you”.

[Nobara to Yuuji after he speeded through the forest while carrying her, allowing them to escape from Esou's technique]

"Well done, you deserve some praise"

“Yeah, yeah”

“Just kidding. Thanks!”

⇒ "You have my praise." (...)

Actually a set phrase! Spoken from a rather elevated/superior POV, which is why Nobara later reiterates that she’s genuinely thankful. Also, I probably would just go with a period for “Thanks”, imo nuance wise it didn’t require an exclamation mark and it’s not there in the original either.

[Esou after Yuuji gets splashed with Kechizu’s blood]

"There's no need to worry. My younger brother's blood isn't the same quality as mine"

Actually "doesn't have the same properties like mine”.

"You wouldn't even die from mine unless you were drowned in it."

Much closer to something like "unless you were to bathe your whole body in it".

"But it does hurt like hell"

⇒ "But it does hurt to death"

Not really wrong meaning wise but in the original it was “to death” instead of “like hell”, which combined with a previous line was probably a wordplay. "You won't die but it does hurt to death"

[Esou explaining how his and Kechizu’s shared technique works]

"If you take in one of our brother's blood and if one brother activates a technique"

Idk if it's clear here but it most likely doesn't matter which brother does which (could even be the same one). Also, definitely should’ve been “the” or “this” for technique, since Esou has just stated on the same page he’s now going to start laying out how a specific technique of he and his brother’s functions.

[Esou replying to Yuuji]

"Yes, the result is essentially poison. Our technique is 'decomposition'"

Should be “but what our technique is, is actually ‘decomposition’” nuance wise.

"It's activated now. In reality they'll be dead faster than that”

⇒ “Done with technique disclosure, so in reality (...)”

Emphasis mine. You know, the rule in jujutsu where if you explain your technique to your opponent, it gets a buff? “Activation” is just wrong here.

While it’s not phrased as such, the phenomenon is first explained in ch. 20 during Nanami’s explanation to Yuuji (refer to part II 2/2). It also gets mentioned by name later in the manga but oftentimes the official release would either skip it or word it completely differently so it’s hard to tell, like in ch. 51, when Hanami realises Toudou has lied to him (part IV 5/5).

[The history of how cursed wombs came to be]

"[In the beginning of the Meiji era] there was a girl with special genetic makeup who bore a cursed-spirit child"

Actually “with an idiosyncrasy that allowed her to get pregnant with the child of a cursed spirit”! Imo an important distinction since it’s not certain whether her first child that gets discussed here was born prematurely or not and the following pregnancies were all aborted.

"A child born of mixed blood - both cursed spirit and human.”

Skipped “grotesque child” at the end.

“It was a mysterious pregnancy. She would be ostracized by family and friends.”

⇒ "Starting from a pregnancy she had no recollection of, [followed by] the oppression from her kith and kin, it made her go insane"

This latter part of this section is filled to the brim with complicated language so I’m not entirely sure but I think this might’ve been the intended meaning of the line. The official translators were probably struggling with the vocabulary too, so they cut out some stuff entirely, to be precise - the go insane part. It’s the bit I’m not certain about myself but I scoured Japanese dictionaries and that’s the meaning that seemed to be the best fit among the options.

Anyway, to reiterate - the bit about the pregnancy actually says that the girl herself didn’t even know (couldn’t remember) how it came to be. The part about the relatives doesn’t mention friends, it’s actually a set phrase that means “one's relatives by blood and marriage (in blood and law); one's kith and kin” - I went here with the latter since it’s shorter and fits the overall vibe of the line.

“She would hold the corpse of the child and flee to a temple in the mountains. The temple was run by jujutsu sorcerers. However, her luck had run out."

⇒ “(...) However, this was when her luck run out”

Other than the nuance in the last line, this isn’t mistranslated but the whole section just flowed differently in the original and felt less disjointed.

Also! One of the scanlations I’ve seen had it misspelled as “Noshitori” but the evil sorcerer’s name is actually “Kamo Noritoshi” (and yes, it’s the same as the young Kamo but the “toshi” is written with different characters).

"The child born from a cursed spirit and human would become a prisoner of intellectual curiosity"

⇒ "His [Kamo Noritoshi's] intellectual curiosity would be taken captive by children born between a cursed spirit and a human"

Very much the other way around. It's very clear in the original that the subject of the sentence was Kamo's intellectual curiosity and not the child.

"Death painting wombs: numbers 1-3. Cursed objects worthy of special grade."

Closer to "cursed objects powerful enough to be classified as special grade"

"Did cursed energy originate from a mother's hatred? No..."

It's specified here as "did their cursed energy" instead (emphasis mine), and the question is actually left unanswered......................................................... So yeah, congrats on getting rid of this very intended ambiguity. It's something like "or was it maybe--"

[About cursed wombs]

"For 150 years, with only the notion of one another's existence, they would survive, sealed away"

⇒ "For 150 years, they endured the seal, relying only on one another's existence"

"The notion" just doesn't capture the sentiment of the line at all, which imo is most likely the follow-up to the narrator's musings about the origin of the death painting's immense cursed energy. (See above.)

"We're siding with that cursed spirit."

Actually "siding with them", read as "them" but written as "the cursed spirits" - probably plural as the original literally says "the side of the cursed spirits", so it possibly means cursed spirits as a whole as well, aside of Mahito and co specifically. Remember, the brothers are actually half-humans too. I explain in depth the “written as but read as” device in part IV 4/5 (ch. 48, Toudou’s “my friend” phenomenon).

"The future that the cursed spirits have painted is more suited for us. But that's it. Forget about what we owe for our freedom"

Not incorrect per se but Chousou actually says “forget the debt we owe them of our incarnation”, which would make it yet another instance where the official English release has cut out the term entirely. (Emphasis mine.)

[Nobara after stating that a technique that assures a win as long as it hits an opponent is indeed powerful]

"I'm a bad match for you!!"

Actually “the worst match [possible]” - more confidence in the line!

[Nobara to the death painting brothers after using Resonance on herself thus redirecting their attack back at them]

"Let's play a game of chicken, shall we?"

The actual wording is “contest of endurance”, I’m not entirely sure if the two have the same connotation.

[part v (3/3)]

#JujutsuKaisen #jjk #Jujutsu Kaisen #jjk translation #jjktranslation

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nintendroid · 3 years

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Conker’s Bad Fur Day is a cult classic, a staple of the Nintendo 64 library and I want to throw it out the window.

Ok, maybe that’s going overboard, especially considering how expensive an original copy is. To say that Conker’s BFD was a less-than-stellar experience for me is an understatement. After completing my 14-hour playthrough, I was left bummed out and disappointed - thanks in part to the unbelievably depressing ending.

I understand why it’s a cult classic - it’s got a lot going for it, but after years of hype and top 10 lists and accolades, I just don’t feel that it’s up there with the likes of Super Mario 64 or Donkey Kong 64.

“Blasphemy!” you say, “Heresy!” you say “You’re talking out of your rear-end!” you say, but that’s physically impossible, sir. I have my reasons and I think they’re justified. Does it mean you should hate the game too? Absolutely not. Play what you enjoy - this is simply a recital of my personal experience and at the end of it all, this is one guy’s opinion.

So let’s start with the good stuff. Conker’s BFD is a very good-looking game graphically, and I adore the sound effects in this game - walking through mud/poop is like ASMR to me. The juxtaposition of a foul-mouthed, drunken squirrel with a cutesy, cartoony backdrop is funny at times and when the humor is good, it’s good. While a majority of the humor fell flat with me, there is some clever humor sprinkled throughout. I enjoyed the fourth-wall breaking stuff, the way stacks of cash would insult you in a Brooklyn-esq accent, the references to R-rated movies are pretty fun as well.

Some of the levels have enjoyable gameplay. The Mighty Poo boss-fight and the gladiator-style caveman fight kept me playing, when I felt like tapping out. For better or worse, there’s a fair amount of variety here, ranging from platforming segments to third-person shooter, to puzzle-solving.

That sounds pretty good as I type it out and it gives me fond memories of the short times I enjoyed Conker’s BFD - then I remember the bad stuff. A big turn-off from the get go was the cynical humor. I know comedy is subjective - I watched “Joker” too but as a 30+ year-old man, my days of forcing myself to laugh at gore and mean-spirited humor are long in the past. Watching a cow crap like a fountain before being blown into bloody chunks or having the top of Conker’s head being sniped off with a fountain of blood accompanying it isn’t funny. Being that this dropped in 2001, Rare was definitely gunning for the South Park audience - which was white hot at the time.

Performance issues are a big problem in crucial moments. BFD looks awesome and for the most part plays ok. If there’s a lot going on onscreen however, expect the framerate to nearly rival that of a slideshow. The worst example I can point to from the top of my head is the “Saving Private Ryan” stage near the end of the game. The rockets and gunfire slow the action down to a crawl, while the enemies spawn out of nowhere to destroy you in one quick blast. Speaking of...

Conker is pretty underpowered for the most part. You can’t upgrade your health so from start-to-finish you have six hits of life. Fall damage is ridiculous too and it’s very easy to take damage from falling even if you use your tail to float down. However, lives are easy to acquire and checkpoints are reasonable so it’s not an impossible game. It can be difficult, especially the dreaded “Saving Private Ryan” stage as mentioned.

I think next to the humor, the biggest flaw in BFD is just the gameplay. I mentioned the variety, but it isn’t variety in the same way as Banjo-Kazooie or Donkey Kong 64 where things feel different but cohesive - Its variety feels like they started with one idea to abandon it for the other. The “context” power-ups support that claim, where you only have power-ups related to whatever is going on in that stage. A clever humor device, but not an empowering video game mechanic. Is it really that hard to let me freely roam the land with a flamethrower and a shotgun? Why wait until I hop on a stupid “B”?

Conker’s Bad Fur Day could’ve been so much more in my eyes. A little more thought put into the gameplay, scale the humor back to PG-13 territory who, knows what kind of heights it would’ve reached? From here on I’ll choose to remember Conker fondly as the little squirrel who was fun to race as in Diddy Kong Racing. I’m interested to check out his Game Boy Color game to see what could’ve been. As far as Bad Fur Day goes, I’ll probably never play it again. I know it’s a classic in the minds of many, but this kind of stuff just isn’t for me.

I’ll leave off with a question: If a sequel was made today, would you want to see them continue in the direction of Bad Fur Day, or take a more traditional platforming mascot route?

Screenshots/images: MobyGames

#conker's bad fur day #conker live and reloaded #rareware #n64 #nintendo 64 #conker #diddy kong racing #nintendroid

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boop-le-snoot · 4 years

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PARTY FAVOURS I CHAPTER 38

💖 first time reader click here 💖

Fluff and snowball fights. Forgiveness is a path and everyone's making their happy way down it. Friendly Steve slander. Hulk interaction!

"So, what now?" I asked, eyes still closed, not resisting the desire to remain under the covers, nested snugly into Stephen's side. On his other side, Tony snored away, sprawled like a starfish in what looked to be the first decent shut-eye he got in months. I could smell the coffee and omelettes from Tony's kitchen and the soft jazz music playing where Bruce was taking care of the breakfast.

It was an unambiguous decision to take it easy after the last battle. Bucky and Natasha had been ironing out the details from the interrogation after Stephen had un-possessed Cabre, Wanda and Loki were itching to get a minute with the mercenary on their own and Veddie, as I started calling my uncle and his symbiote after experiencing the incredibly immersive symbiosis with Venom, hovered nearby in case Cabre would make a good snack.

"What do you want to do?" Stephen's morning voice was, ahem, an experience. He put Corpse Husband to shame and I knew that it wasn't only me who got hot and bothered by it but Tony as well...

Speaking of Tony, I still had no idea where we stood. My engineer had been less than happy about my actions and I thought I blew it. He wasn't as warm and playful, and while I kept telling myself that it was just the exhaustion from weeks of stress and worry, I knew better.

"I don't know. I didn't think this far," I admitted, damn well knowing what I wanted. I wanted things to be like they were - clear, honest, easy. My mother's voice rang out clearly again. I was being childish. Of course I was.

"I'm sure Tony will have my head for this, but seeing as there's no stopping you, I'm sure Natasha and Barnes will be happy to train you," Stephen sighed, his breath warm in my hair.

I blanched, stiffening in his arms, confused. "Where did that come from?" My eyes finally opened to stare at his sleepy face.

His eyebrows rose. "You don't want to..?"

"Be a hero, like you? No," I shook my head, then snorted. "I was trying to figure out how to tell you I don't want to go to college just yet, maybe take a gap year. In fact, I want to avoid actual in-person classes as much as humanely possible. And I still don't have a clue what major exactly I want to pursue." I was being honest, prepared to be judged. In-between my three men, there were at least ten PhDs whilst I was only nearly done with the first step of my education.

"So what, it was a one-time deal? Let an alien parasite take over your body for a coupla' hours and then continue with your life?" Tony's scratchy voice startled me; apparently, he'd been awake and actively eavesdropping.

I wasn't prepared for this conversation, but then again, I'd never be. Might as well rip the bandaid off. "I'm not that flavour of stupid," I immediately retorted, heart beginning to pick up speed. My mouth was gonna get me in trouble. "I am not delusional, I know things aren't and won't be the same. I did what I did because there was no other option, I'm not sorry and I will do it again if the need arises. It's not what you want to hear but it's the truth." I paused, well aware that my speech was becoming quicker, I was well on my way to nervous rambling. "I'm not hero material, I won't go on a death march for a rando," Justifying my actions? No. I stopped myself again. "I am sorry for lying. I am sorry for hiding things. But I am not sorry for putting my own ass out there so we can get some fucking peace." I finally settled, fisting my pajama top under the blanket in an attempt to release some of the tension.

Twin sighs erupted from my men, as if their bodies synchronized in response to my stubborn nature. Stephen's hold tightened on me as Tony rolled over, sleepy eyes blinking from the space opposite of me on Stephen's chest. Tony's hand reached for my face, stroking the side of it wordlessly - he wasn't the most vocal about his feelings but his eyes said it all. Tony was sad, hurt, a little bit angry but mostly he was relieved. It was the way he moved - nearly no traces of the tension that had gathered on his face in the previous weeks.

"Natasha should still train you, some basic hand to hand and weapons training, in case someone has it out for any of us. SHIELD's security has holes, you're basically one of us now. Everyone and their mother saw Clint hauling you to the quinjet," Tony finally grumbled, admitting his defeat. Everyone knew that if it had been up to him, I wouldn't leave the tower without an armed escort at all times. Thankfully, Bruce was there to screw on Tony's bolts right each time he wanted to go overboard. They thought I wouldn't notice, but I did.

Stephen's free hand landed in Tony's hair, the sorcerer effectively calmed both of us down with his gentle, unobtrusive support. He was far more empathetic than he liked to show. "That seems like a smart idea," He rumbled as my eyes began to drift shut once again.

With each steady breath, my heartbeat slowed and the feelings of guilt and dread began to dissipate. Tony might not had forgiven me yet but I was on my way to inner peace once more. I remembered feeling exactly the same way before our relationship, when every time I took a step inside Tony's lab, I tensed inwardly, shielded my feelings from his eyes, too focused on the outcome I thought would be absolutely disastrous. I had always thought he'd laugh at me, and yet... Laying on Steph's chest, inches away from Tony, my past panic seemed ridiculous.

"What's so funny?" Stephen asked, amused.

I didn't even notice the snort that managed to escape me. "Nothing," I answered immediately, feeling my face heat up. Oh my Loki, what kind of an idiot I had been...

"Sure," Tony's finger poked my cheek without preamble. "Staging a world domination plan, aren't we?" He snarked, much more like his usual self.

"I was just remembering when I was so terrified you'd find out I have a crush on you and you'd laugh at me," I mumbled, willing to placate Tony to avoid any more unnecessary lies and deceit.

Tony, did, in fact, laugh at my confession, but so did Stephen and I am pretty sure I heard Bruce snort from the direction of the archway leading into the spacious bedroom. The bed dipped as the scientist sat down, running a palm over my leg.

"I was pretty sure you would laugh at me," He admitted just as quietly and bashfully. Stephen and Tony only laughed harder. I heard the sound of a pillow hitting Steph in the face. "Let's go, Princess, let's leave the mean geezers alone. I made breakfast."

I could practically hear the pout in Bruce's voice and couldn't resist to comply, leaving a grumbling Tony to stretch and roll out of bed like a disgruntled cat.

"You're older than me, Bruce," Stephen rolled his eyes, I could feel his stare linger on my exposed thighs before Bruce picked me up. My sorcerer boyfriend switched to staring at Tony's bare back, which was an action I wholeheartedly supported.

"Cocky bastards," I stuck out my tongue a moment before we turned the corner and then all I could focus on was the feast of gods Bruce had made for us. The man was really too sweet and too kind, he never ceased to make me mushy and stuff. I stole a kiss, and then another one, and another one, until Tony's whining about the toast burning interrupted our moment.

The bread was fine. Tony was just being himself.

Our phones beeped at the same time - mine being already in my hand, as all normal young people did in the mornings - I looked at the message expecting another assemble and feeling my eyebrows crawl up at Steve's suggestion we all get some fresh air that day.

It had snowed. The whole city was covered in white, crisp snow, and Bucky has been liking nothing but other people's snowman pictures for several days. I suspected the brunette had convinced his boyfriend to take him out to build one or something, but as Steve was known to be exceptionally dense at times, Cap'n Jolly had unanimously decided it was a team bonding-slash-relaxing opportunity.

I relayed my thoughts to my own boyfriends, all of us giggling at Steve's eagerness to cater to his boyfriend and his cluelessness when it came to all things romantic. I was tempted to shoot Steve a text explaining his epic gamer moment but before I could even open the app, Bruce's eyes turned green briefly as he had a very obvious internal conversation with Hulk.

"Is that offer to spend time with Hulk still up?" The scientist asked timidly.

I had a lightbulb moment. "Absolutely!" I replied, watching my other two boyfriends. They didn't even bat an eye, evidently at peace with the green situation. "As long as the snowball fight is had with Thor, Steve or other enhanced individuals." Personally, I had no desire to be flipped over by a snowball the size of a watermelon. Or get any of the pretty but cold stuff under my clothes.

Bruce's responding grin was mostly Hulk.

It was a couple of days before Christmas. I was never one much for the holiday season, but something magical had seeped into me - it wasn't the shiny lights throughout the tower, it wasn't Clint's ugly Christmas sweater and the smell of gingerbread cookies and cinnamon that came from Wanda's apartment. I had no clue what it was, but it seemed to be tied to my boyfriends and Loki and many others who lived in the tower.

Bruce was all but wiggling during the car ride to the park - rationally, I knew it was the Hulk being excited but I still couldn't take my eyes off the usually reserved man. Bruce was happy. It made me smile and hold his hand like we were middle-schoolers in love. The rest of the team pretended to not notice it, or maybe they didn't care, or maybe they had already gotten used to my unconventional relationship.

Either way, Bucky had whisked Steve away almost immediately and I did what every kid ever had dreamed of. As Bruce went to a more secluded space to transform into the Hulk and Tony went to retrieve his thermos of coffee, I ushered Sam over to Steve's car and unlocked it, retrieving his shield from the trunk. It was heavier than it looked but did it stop me and Sam from running up the nearest hill and fighting over who gets to go first?

No, it did not. In mere moments, my ass was being frozen to the metal despite my snowsuit as I parked it inside the shield , holding onto the straps as Sam pushed on my back, hollering "Yeet!" at the top of his lungs, sending me in a steep slide towards where Thor was enthusiastically explaining something to the rest of the team.

"Oh shiiiiit!" I screamed, unprepared for the sudden increase in speed and the surprisingly good gliding abilities Captain America's shield possessed. "Watch o-o-out!" I yelled as the group scattered at the last moment. I heard some strong Russian words coming from Natasha, paired with snorts of badly concealed laughter.

The tree line grew closer by the second but the shield had no plans of stopping any time soon. Whoda thunk that things made of vibranium had all the characteristics to be the perfect sled? Something green entered my field of vision, stopping my crazy train with a grunt.

I answered with an oof of my own. One green palm was securely wrapped around me and the other held Steve's shield. "Hello," Hulk snorted, lifting me up like I was but a feather and setting me on his shoulder. "Puny Princess, don't hurt yourself," He stated firmly as I looked down at him, intrigued by the sudden change in his speech patterns. He sounded almost human.

"Hey, Big Guy," I ruffled his hair. "Aren't you cold?"

"No," He replied, setting me onto his shoulder. Hulk appeared to be completely unaffected by the December cold in his purple shorts. I felt my rear end begin to thaw, such was the heat that he emanated from his body. Meanwhile, Hulk caught Steve's eye, preparing to hurl the shield back to the frowning Captain.

Steve caught it effortlessly while Bucky ignored the interaction whatsoever, caught up in rolling an obscenely large ball of snow a ways from the group, tongue all but hanging out in concentration. I caught myself thinking he was gonna build a snow dick instead of a man and it made me feel...

"Wanna build a snowman?" I asked my green companion, rubbing my mittens in excitement.

The Hulk pondered for a brief moment, adopting that mischievous gleem, eyes shooting to Tony and Stephen who stood regally on the side of the clearing, sipping their hot beverages like the adult men that they were supposed to be. I snorted and Hulk echoed the sound, taking quick strides to a patch of land opposite Bucky. "No," Hulk shook his head. "We build a fort. Then smash," The green bean was all but vibrating in excitement.

Realistically, I knew I was gonna get snow stuck in uncomfortable places and might even get knocked over by an overeager person with super strength. But was I gonna pass up an opportunity to show off my superior construction skills? Hell naw.

It wasn't long before Stephen and Tony wandered off to us and began to pile up snow with a resigned huff, unsuccessful in their attempts to rebuff me ordering them around. In the end, we split in three teams, snow flew everywhere and by the time the battle was in peak heat, all of us were cold, wet and red-faced.

"To the death! BLOOD AND VINEGAR!!!" I screeched, hopping up and down after a series of small rapid snowballs I threw hit their target - Steve had a face full of snow and Bucky wasn't faring much better next to him, having had let a few of them hit him in the chest because he was distracted, doubling over in laughter at Steve's indignant, red face.

"You're bloodthirsty," Tony smirked from my side, dumping a fresh batch of ammo between me and Stephen. "It's hot."

@another-stark-sub @mostly-marvel-musings @vozit @littlegasps @pilloclock @shereadsinquiet @downeyreads @hermione-grangers-wife @individualistfem @sleep-i-ness @capbrie @lillsxd @agustdowney @dee-vn @justanotherblonde23 @fanngirl19 @persephonehemingway @softie-socks @schemefrenzy @letsby @romeo-the-cactus @jelly-fishy-babie @mikariell95 @gladiosamicitias @warrior1-19 @toomanyrobins

#party favours #bun writes #tony stark x reader #bruce banner x reader #Stephen Strange x reader #tony stark x Bruce Banner x Stephen Strange x reader #in this house we love and respect the ot4

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whumpingcrow · 3 years

Text

Ink Poisoning - Chapter 7

Fire and Ice

CW: bbu and everything that relates to that, discussion of noncon drugging, drugs/alcohol, injury description, blood mention, hypothermia/frostbite/basically whumpee left in the cold for too long, whumper playing caretaker, intimate whumper, noncon/dubcon kiss, general noncon/dubcon discussion and themes, sick whumpee, ptsd flashbacks/nightmares (let me know if i missed anything!)

"Jesus Christ, were you trying to kill him?"

"Shut up. Come here, help me keep him up so I can take the belt off."

Hands, warm hands on Gio, grabbing, taking, hurting. He shrinks away from them, he cries out, it hurts, everything hurts, his world is painted bright red with pain all the time, breathing is painful, moving is painful, existing is painful.

"He doesn't look so good, Nicko, I think we gotta go to the hospital-"

"He's fine. Here, hold this."

The world spins and jostles Gio around, and then he's off of the burning cold of the ground, enveloped in heat that's almost too much. It makes all of the dull aching that seems to have frozen overtime thaw out, and he begins to sob, chest heaving, gnawing pain clawing up his throat, and he can't even stop himself. He can't open his eyes, can't move at all, he's only able to cry, and it's just like the first round of training. He thinks, for probably the thousandth time, "I'm really going to die this time, this is really it for me, I'll never heal, it's over it's all over" and he cries and cries and cries.

"It's ok, Gio. You're alright now."

Now he's somewhere else, he doesn't remember leaving the freezing cold nightmare of outside, where he was lonely and shaking until his muscles felt like they were gonna give out and his skin felt like it was falling off. He must be in a bed, now, wrapped up in thick, warm blankets, laying on something sinfully soft. Panic rips through him, but everything is muted just slightly and all he can do to communicate his fear is a measly whine. He can't even open his eyes, they're held shut with a velvety exhaustion, the same one that holds him to the bed that he knows he's not worthy of. He wants to sit up, be awake, but trying to move is too hard, his skin feels like it's all shredded up where it brushes against the sheets. He wants to wake up, he hates to be asleep, he doesn't want to have any more bad dreams. He whimpers again.

"Giovanni, I'm here. I'm right here." He flinches when fingertips trace against his temple, then they are in his hair and he moans miserably. It hurts to be touched, mostly because it isn't enough. Life is agony and he feels like he's dying, he needs more than just a gentle hand in his hair. He needs a hug. He doesn't know if he remembers how to ask for that without sounding pathetically broken, so he doesn't try. He feels scalding hot tears streaming down his cheeks and falling into his hair. "Ugh, I'm so sorry, darling. I went way too far."

Gio doesn't understand. Too far? No, no this is about customary. Text book. Whatever he did, he can't remember now, was bad, bad enough to leave him in this condition, and so that means it was justified. He's never been told sorry before, he's never heard anyone who's hurt him admitting that they went overboard.

"Oh, please stop crying, Gio, you're breaking my heart." The hand is away from his hair, and Giovanni wills the tears to stop. He doesn't want anymore pain.

It takes all of his remaining energy to take in a shaking breath and force himself to whisper "I'm s-sorry, sir." It's rehearsed, even if it's broken up and weak, and he hopes that he says it good enough.

He hears a sigh, then the mattress sinks down a little next to him and the blankets are moved around a little. The cool air of the room slips under the sheets and it makes him shiver. That hurts, too, and he holds his breath until his lungs are tight so that he doesn't cry anymore. Then, strong arms are wrapping around him, drawing him against a body, warm and breathing and surprisingly gentle. He knows that this isn't right, it's not normal for an idiot boxie like him to be held, to be pressed up close against another person underneath covers for no other reason then to be held. Still, it's all he can do to not start bawling in relief as he buries his face against the chest in front of him.

He falls asleep again, nightmares full of blanked out faces and pain he doesn't ever think he'll forget plague his sleep, and every time that he starts to tremble or whine softly, Nicko pulls his wiry frame closer and pets through his hair and whispers that he's ok. He should have been doing this the entire time, he thinks, every time he heard Gio crying in his sleep or waking himself up to gasp and sniffle softly, he should have pulled him up into the bed and held him like this all those times. Now, as he's holding Gio's battered, frostbitten body against his own, he can't believe he was making them both miss out on the comfort. All it takes to calm Gio down enough to sink back into silent sleep is for Nicko to remind him that he's in harmless (for the moment, at least) arms, and then he whispers "you're ok, Gio, I've got you" into his tangled, blood soaked hair, and then he settles back into Nicko's grip and his breathing evens out. Nicko is baffled that it's that easy. He's also shocked at how, even though he hated Gio with everything that was in him hours ago, now he finds himself wanting to never let him go, to be this comfort to him forever.

------------------------------------------------

Nicko was inconsolable when he came back inside. Rory was the first person to try and talk him down, try to convince him that it wasn't Gio's fault and to let him back inside, but he wanted to listen to her least of all. Instead, he took a few more shots of burning tequila and yelled at her, told her to get out of his house. At first she didn't take him seriously, only grabbed onto him and pulled hard at his clothes, insistent that he "just calm down" because "it wasn't that big of a deal", but once he grabbed her shoulders and told her to get the fuck out of his face, she left in a hurry.

After that, his roommate, Ben, who he'd barely noticed when they passed him in the hallway, came out to the kitchen and sat next to him, pretending he wasn't trying to find Gio out in the dark, snowy backyard as they talked. It took about thirty minutes of Ben trying to timidly suggest that maybe it wasn't entirely Gio's fault before Nicko calmed down. Then, there was another long stretch of time where he carefully made Nicko feel like shit for hurting Gio in the first place, and hours after he tied Gio up there, Ben and Nicko went outside to retrieve him.

He was in much worse condition than Nicko thought he left him in, and he was a little afraid at how not aware he had been. Giovanni had been bleeding from his nose and mouth for who knows how long, and now dark marroon blood was cracked and dried and probably fucking frozen on his face and down his entire front. Even Nicko's belt, that was much too tight around Gio's frail neck, to the point it was bruising him, was covered in blood. His ears were a burning, bright red from the bitter cold, so were his cheeks and the tips of his fingers and toes. other than that, he was ghostly pale. More so than usual, which was concerning. But the most concerning thing of all was that he was passed out, head tipped back against the post and face blank and just unmoving. Nicko wondered if he passed out from the belt, he had thought that he would reach up and take it off himself once Nicko was inside, and he was disappointed in himself for doubting Gio's obedience. He was suddenly all to aware that this kid would do anything he thought Nicko wanted, or at the very least try with everything he has before exhausting himself. Rory, too, but only because he thinks he owes it to Nicko to listen to her as well. And here he is, soaked in his own blood and no doubt bruised from where Nicko kicked him right in his stomach, and he'll be sick from the cold, and he was so high before hand he probably had no idea what was going on.

He was probably so scared. He probably always is. That hadn't even occured to Nicko before, he was seeing him only on the surface, as the boxie he got for cheap to fuck around with, not as a human, not as something so broken and so easily frightened. He felt an overwhelming surge of guilt right then and there, especially when Ben said:

"Jesus Christ were you trying to kill him?"

I don't remember. Maybe I was.

"Shut up. Come here, help me keep him up so I can take the belt off." He had to keep his cool, he had to act calm and unbothered, couldn't let it show how much this shook him up.

Giovanni sounded just pathetic when they tried to situate him, even though they were both incredibly careful. Nicko was thrown off, he'd only heard Gio make noise when he was absolutely out of control with panic, horrified or when something had been hurting him for a long time, and even then it was quite. Well, except the time the Giovanni begged him with such desperation to stop touching him, horrified by his hands on him, the implication of him touching him somewhere else entirely. Nicko had been angry with him too, then, and he was starting to really feel the weight of his remorse.

"He doesn't look so good, Nicko, I think we gotta go to the hospital-"

Oh God, do you think he needs that? Oh fuck, I messed up.

"He's fine." Nicko insisted, mostly because he was horrified of what people would think of him if he brought Giovanni into the emergency room in this condition. They would know he did it, his knuckles were bruised and covered in Gio's dark, dried blood. He hadn't had time to wash it off in between his need to get more fucked up, yelling at Rory, and trying to allow himself to be calmed down. But he had to worry about getting Gio inside first, try to gauge just how bad the damage was. He slipped the belt off from around Giovanni's poor, bruised throat, he gasped feebly in response. Nicko barely caught him with a hand on his shoulder as he collapsed to his side in exhaustion. "Here, hold this."

The belt was passed off, like a baton in a race, and Nicko wasted no time gathering Gio's small, trembling frame against his chest and standing upright with him in his arms.

He didn't bother cleaning either of them off, Gio was much too exhausted for that. It was probably a better idea to get him warm first anyways.

Nicko's heart aches for him as he fades in and out of his dazed, disconnected state, crying when he's present enough to feel his pain.

-----------------------------------------------

Rory doesn't come back after that. Giovanni is sick for the next few days, he barely leaves Nicko's bed the entire time, Nicko works on bringing him back to health, he only drinks a little in the evening, just to be relaxed with Gio while he holds him and tries to sooth him enough to sleep. He's got a fever, hot to the touch and shivering all the damn time. It feels like the cold from outside has buried itself under his skin.

Except for when he's asleep.

When he sleeps, he's burning from the inside out. The mixture of his fever and coming off of the drug that had made him feel so fantastically far away, he remembers the nightmares. Sometimes he wakes up gasping, Shooting up in bed, shoving the too heavy blankets and Nicko's suffocating arms off of him with desperation to get away from the heat, in his dreams he's surrounded by bodies, too close and too hot and hands touching and taking and torturing. Other times, the burning inside is different, it's from dreams where he's all alone, everyone is leaving him, they don't want him he's just not good enough for them. Then, he wakes up and he's grabbing fistfuls of Nicko's clothes, pressing himself closer, closer, begging in a watery, wobbling voice, "Nicko please, please stay. Please don't go. Hold me, don't let go of me please."

So Nicko pulls him closer, and through the drunken, heavy veil of sleep, he finds himself placing soft kisses in Gio's hair, stroking little circles against his ribs, over his sharp shoulder blades, shaking with each gasping breaths.

Nicko misses Rory. He doesn't feel that bad about making her leave, not as awful as he feels for what he did to Gio, but he misses her, nonetheless. He misses a warm body, a touch more than panicked desperation. He finds himself wanting to touch Gio all the time, wants to tattoo him again, or toy around with him while he's completely there, when he can look sort of apprehensive and bothered and mouth-wateringly flustered. He's easy, and Nicko adores it.

When Gio starts to get better, it's relieving to everyone. He had said he didn't want to see Salem, not in this disgustingly sick and disoriented way. Once he gets a little more clearheaded, Salem is glad to see him in the kitchen when he gets home from school. Much too his- and surprisingly Nicko's -disdain, he's usually spending his time out of bed cleaning. He goes until someone insists he stops. They get worried when he gets pale and sways in front of the sink where he's been trying to wash the dishes. Salem often takes him to his room, which Nicko allows, and lays down on the floor with him, music playing softly through his speakers. Nicko, when he finds him in worrying pallor like that, takes him to his bed and asks him to lay down, to rest for a little while. Sometimes he joins him, sometimes he doesn't.

Gio starts to miss Rory when he feels better. He doesn't like how he feels with her drugs out of his system, for no one around to playfully treat him how he deserves; less than a person, more of a toy. Nicko is suddenly too nice and gentle, and Gio doesn't know if he likes it that much. He really doesn't like sleeping in his bed every night, he's too frightened now, especially when he's sober. He misses that amazing feeling he had the last time he saw Rory, even though the high and the new concussion and the fever made him forget almost everything that happened before Nicko came in and hurt him. He knew it was something bad, he was glad he wasn't really there to experience it.

One night, after waking up from another awful, empty and lonely dream, he turned over on the mattress, trying to find Nicko in the dark by dragging his hands across the sheets. He found his warm body, he shivered at how he was slightly overheated from his panic and his need to be close to someone in the obedient way he was supposed to, to be good for Nicko. He pressed himself close, timidly pressing his lips against Nicko's throat until it pulled him back into consciousness. He didn't seem upset about being woken up, simply finding Gio's thigh under the blankets and wrapping his sometimes threatening fingers around it and squeezing it with a pleased hum. Giovanni had tears on his face, they got onto Nicko's neck where Gio was getting closer and closer to Nicko with need and aching and yearning.

"What are you doing, Gio?" He asked. His voice was a hoarse rumble through his chest, Giovanni ran his hand over Nicko's bare chest, and he panted against Nicko's skin. Suddenly Nicko was aware of how bothered and worked up Gio was, and he pulled away from him. His eyes took a second to adjust, and from the streetlight outside, he could vaguely see his darkened, bruised eyes, shining with tears, staring at him wide eyed.

"You're my favorite person, Nicko." Gio was whispering, almost afraid to be admitting it. "I... I want to be close to you all the time. I don't want to bother you but it hu-hurts when I can't be."

He was so earnest when he said it, Nicko didn't think he was lying. He had no reason to, really. Nicko could see through the dark that his wide, permanently panicked eyes were flicking back and forth from Nicko's eyes to his mouth.

"Rory was right," Nicko started, his voice low and gravelly, "you're so cute. Especially when you say things like that."

Giovanni flushed at the words, and he was glad that it was dark enough that Nicko probably couldn't see him blushing hard. "You really think so?" He asked, voice wavering, like he was expecting Nicko to say "no you fucking worthless idiot. Not even a little bit do I think that".

Instead, he reached out and ran his thumb over Gio's cheek, across his jaw, and finally over his bottom lip. He smiled when Gio began to tremble at the touch, breath hitching in a beautiful way that was almost unnoticeable. "Yeah, Gio," he answered, "yeah, I do."

And then, before either of them changed their minds, Nicko pulled him close and kissed him.

Gio melted right into it, pressing his body flush against Nicko's, opening his mouth just a little as an invitation. He was perfect, he was made for this, for kissing and touching this way. But then Nicko felt guilty for thinking that. He had to remind himself constantly, every single time that Giovanni was looking irresistably adorable, that he was trained into being this way. Nicko couldn't even be sure that Gio really wanted it, or if he just thought he did because he knew it was what Nicko wanted. He was reminded again of what he'd realized when he saw Giovanni outside, saw that he hadn't even tried to get the belt off of his neck: Gio would do anything for Nicko. He had just admitted that Nicko was his favorite person, after all. Guilt started eating away at him yet again, so he pulled away from Gio.

"It's late." He mumbled, turning away from Gio altogether. "You need to get your rest so you can feel better."

He was answered by silence, and it made him sigh heavily. He didn't want to upset Gio, but even more he didn't want to use him, not when it didn't mean the same thing to him. "G'night, Giovanni."

Again, Gio was perfectly still and perfectly quiet. When he thought Nicko was asleep, he started to cry softly. He let his tears slide down his cheeks and wet his hair and the pillow. His fingers were pressed tightly to his lips. He wanted the ghost of Nicko's mouth on his to stay there forever. Eventually he exhausted himself, falling asleep crying, aching and burning for Nicko.

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imagine-organization-xiii · 4 years

Text

Organization XIII - Gift Exchange with S/O

A suggestion from PhantomMuze on Discord, who also did the ones for Luxord, Saix, and Axel for me when I was stumped. Happy Holidays!

Xemnas

What They Give to S/O - Xemnas has this uncanny ability of getting whatever you actually want for Christmas without you having to tell him. New phone? He got it two weeks ago. A new kitchen appliance? He got a deal on Black Friday. You want a new bedroom set? He already has it ready to be delivered whenever you want.

What They Get from S/O - You always like to go fancy for Xemnas because he’s a sophisticated guy, so you like to spend time picking out a nice gift. A nice ring, a new watch, a new suit, etc.

Xigbar

What They Give to S/O - The two of you will usually do some kind of gag gifts for each other, so Xigbar sometimes falls back on something funny, like a bottle of lube and a toy from a sex shop, but sometimes he’ll get even more creative and buy a funny book, or he’ll wrap a Video Game Console Box but he’ll put like a pillow in the box instead of a video game console.

What They Get from S/O - You also like gag gifts, but you like the actual gift to be something he’d use. It might be a gift card or a nice shirt or something for his weapons, but you’ll wrap it in like fifty zip ties or put it in layers and layers of cling wrap and rubber bands.

Xaldin

What They Give to S/O - Just be happy that he even remembered that it was Christmas, okay - he may not give the best gifts but he has a lot of spirit. He TRIES. He’ll go out and get you a piece of nice jewelry or a new dress or something and even if it isn’t the best gift or what you wanted, you can’t blame him for trying so hard because he always looks so worried that you’ll hate it

What They Get from S/O - This crazy man is hard to shop for, but you can’t go wrong when it comes to home goods. No, really. You and Lexaeus have been doing your best to upgrade and decorate your bedroom and the sitting room down the hall from your bedroom, so you can place an order for a nice clock, a better sofa, or a nice TV to mount on the wall in your bedroom and he’ll be like hell yeah.

Vexen

What They Give to S/O - One of the literal worst at buying Christmas presents, but he tries so you can’t really blame him. Clothes, stuff for your weapons, some of your favorite treats, usually stuff that is durable, reliable and things that you NEED. Doesn’t understand frivolous spending and would rather get you something that he knows you’re going to use.

What They Get from S/O - EQUIPMENT - Vexen will absolutely love you forever if you get him more lab equipment, if only because it’s stuff he could buy for himself but he can’t really justify the expenses, so he’s happy to have it without the strings attached.

Lexaeus

What They Give to S/O - Lexaeus is arguably the most thoughtful. You can guarantee that his gift will probably be handmade or something so nice and thoughtful that it will bring you to tears. One year he learned how to carve wood and actually made you an antique music box that completely blew you away, but this year he actually made you a large scrapbook filled with pictures from the entire year.

What They Get from S/O - It seems kind of awful, but literally the best kind of gift for Lexaeus? Gift cards. Seriously. He loves gift cards. Gift cards to Lowe’s, to Crate and Barrel, to World Market or Best Buy? He loves that he can buy whatever he wants when it’s technically on someone else’s dime.

Zexion

What They Give to S/O - you and Zexion are both coffee connoisseurs, so he’ll surprise you on Christmas with a giant bag full of different types of exotic coffee that the two of you can try together, as well as little scones, cookies, and snacks for you to have with the coffee.

What They Get from S/O - Rare. Books. You found a signed First Edition of The Old Man and the Sea by Ernest Hemingway - it cost a pretty penny, but the look on his face when he opened it was so worth it.

Saix

What They Give to S/O - Gives his s/o stuff to help them organize their life - a mini whiteboard, a decorative calendar, a nice set of fancy stationary, but he’ll also get you some things that will help you relax! Scented candles, a cozy bathrobe, or some incense to burn.

What They Get from S/O - Saix is difficult to shop for, so alcohol is always a good way to go. Surprisingly, he also enjoys training gear - maybe a new set of boxing gloves or some hand wraps. If you’re really desperate, he’s also good with bath products, like some body wash.

Axel

What They Give to S/O - Another one who likes gag gifts, but he always makes sure to give you something he knows you’ll enjoy too. So you’ll be getting some Smart Ass Wipes but you’ll also be getting a warm snuggie and maybe a stuffed animal too.

What They Get from S/O - FOOD 100%. Axel loves getting food for Christmas - giant bags of chips, bottles of soda and juice, christmas cookies, mini-pies, brownies, fudge, etc. He will be the happiest person ever if he can just spend the whole day eating snacks.

Demyx

What They Give to S/O - Has a habit of forgetting how many gifts that he buys for his significant other, because he’s one of those people who sees a small thing at the store and gets it for you, then he sees something else and gets that too, but that happens like every day for the entire month of December so you’ll get small cute gifts that he thinks you’ll like, but there will be a TON of them

What They Get from S/O - Something music-related - he always likes getting supplies, like blank sheet music or extra strings for his sitar, a new amp or other equipment, but you know what else he likes? Games. Board games or card games are so awesome to get for Demyx because he’s always up for playing them and they’re a good bonding experience.

Luxord

What They Give to S/O - Luxord likes to treat you well, okay??? He’ll sometimes go overboard but it’s fine because his heart is in the right place. Get ready to open your present to see some Swarovski Crystal jewelry or some plane tickets to a faraway location so the two of you can have a romantic trip together.

What They Get from S/O - Another guy who likes practical things, so he’ll probably get some new clothes, a new set of razors, or maybe some alcohol. Food or tea are also good ways to go with Luxord

Marluxia

What They Give to S/O - He goes all out when it comes to Christmas gifts because he is That Bitch. He gets creative and likes to get unique gifts - it’s never anything you would think about asking for, but you always love it anyway - a unique statue from somewhere far away, a rare cross-breed of flower he created and named after you,

What They Get from S/O - You’d think flowers, obviously, but that would be too easy for you, so you might get him a bouquet or something, but Marluxia ALSO likes gifts of alcohol. Fancy bottle of wine or liquor paired with fancy crackers, chocolate, cheese, and meats in a big gift basket.

Larxene

What They Give to S/O - Larxene knows you so well, she doesn’t even need to ask you for some ideas of what you want for Christmas. She knows you’ve been stressed this year, so she planned a trip for the two of you to another world and plans on surprising you on Christmas morning.

What They Get from S/O - Larxene is very much a person who likes to go out and do things, so you might get her an appointment at a spa for a facial and a mani-pedi, maybe a couple’s massage and a nice dinner at one of her favorite restaurants.

Roxas

What They Give to S/O - He will either beg you for ideas or he’ll try and get one of the other org members probably (Xion) to help him. He’ll end up getting you something you really want but it’ll take a lot of effort. He might get you a nice piece of jewelry, a few items of clothing, or even a voucher for something that the two of you can do together.

What They Get from S/O - I feel like Roxas would like something homemade, but instead of crafts and whatnot, you can pile him with homemade cookies and candy and fudge and brownies and he’d be good to go.

Xion

What They Give to S/O - Xion made a little craft for her s/o, probably something like a cool bracelet or one of those jars of colored sand, something that they can cherish for a while.

What They Get from S/O - Xion gets stuffed animals! She LOVES stuffed animals and all things warm and comforting, so she might also get some fun blankets and fluffy Christmas pajamas.

#holiday headcanons #organization xiii headcanons #kingdom hearts headcanons #organization xiii

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1994sunflower · 4 years

Note

Hey I really love your writing it’s amazing I was wondering if you could write an imagine where like A girl from micheals past makes an appearance and the reader gets really insecure. A fight maybe? Smut? but he like fix’s everything idk whatever you think is best honestly I just love reading your writing .

so….i definitely went overboard on this haha, it’s sooo long. but!! i loved this prompt so much. i got really into this. hope you like it!!!

also again, just so no one gets confused this does NOT take place during the locked out of heaven. time period.

in which you get jealous

Before there was you, there were countless of nameless (and frankly, with how drunk he could get, faceless) girls that Michael had been with. It was a fact you had come to accept and it was also very public knowledge. What wasn’t so public knowledge was the girl who started his tirade of women.

Michael never talked about her. Why would he? He didn’t care about her, never did. She was just a easy fix whenever he got needy - she was there and he knew he wouldn’t have to spend a lot of his energy to get laid with her around. But, especially after meeting and falling in love with you, he could barely even remember her.

‘Accessible’ soon proved to be more baggage than he wanted or needed with her. She got too comfortable, confused with her title and place in his life. Which, for the record, was just a warm body. But eventually, her affection for him got too much for Michael to care for and he settled for spending just a little bit more of his energy to find new girls, ones who would know he only wanted one thing and then leave it at that. And he made sure it was once and done to avoid any of the unnecessary drama he had found in April.

Which is how he lived out his college years until you stumbled into his life that fateful night. Now he had no need for other girls, no desire for them and, were it not for the constant rumors and mumblings of his past as a player, it seemed like those parts of his life never happened. Like those girls never happened. Like April never happened.

And he was perfectly content with that.

You were, too. Even with the knowledge that there were many girls who had once experienced your boyfriend you didn’t mind too much because no one had gotten Michael fully before you. Because he was a different experience when he was fully devoted to the girl he was sleeping with. So even knowing about Michael’s past, your mind never wandered with doubts or questions. Especially when Michael made feel you so secure.

You never searched out the girls he had been with prior, didn’t really care. It was before you and you knew he was different now, at least with you. So you never asked and you were never bothered with the idea of the girls before you. Because they weren’t really ‘before you’, no one had the same place in Michael’s heart that you currently own.

Hearing April’s name for the first time didn’t bring a rush of preconceived notions or history because of this. In fact, you weren’t exactly sure what an April was when Ashton walked by you and Michael as he was leaving home and you were heading there.

“April’s in the living room. Sorry bro, she just showed up and wouldn’t leave.”

You knew April couldn’t be good news by the way Michael’s hand closed tighter around your small one. You looked up to see his eyes go a little darker in anger and his jaw set. Michael had gotten angry really quickly and you weren’t sure why.

But he was silent until you reached his house. He didn’t open the door for you like he normally would’ve done but as he stealthily kept you half hidden at his side, you knew it was so he could deal with April full on and not have you be in the middle of it.

“What the fuck are you doing here, April?” His voice was rough and sneering.

And it was directed to a dark brunette sitting on the winding couch in the living room. She was sitting sideways and staring directly at Michael with an amused, teasing smile. One only capable when you were someone who had dealt with Michael extensively and weren’t so much afraid of his tone anymore.

This thought, the though that whoever this girl was, knew Michael in a much deeper way than you’d never encountered before, never had to worry about before made you wrap your other arm around Michael’s. A deep set worry settled in you. Who was she to Michael?

April stood up. Her long, shiny brown hair flipped behind her and you couldn’t help the way you tightened your hold on Michael. She was beautiful. Her olive skin paired nicely with her green eyes and lightly freckled face. She was tall, much taller than you and the shorts she wore made sure to show her long legs off. She was someone you’d exactly expect to see with Michael. Not at all like you.

And you couldn’t help the comparisons rushing through your mind.

“Turns out we’re in the same Psych class and we’re a group project together. Luckily, I remembered where your house was.” Your heart constricted in a way you weren’t used to. You’ve experienced insecurity before but never justified. Michael had made sure of it. But with this girl, the one who knew Michael enough to be used to his temper, the one who had been in his house before, this felt very justified.

“I don’t do group projects.” Michael’s answers were short and held a warning tone hidden behind his words. He wasn’t sure how convinced he was that their partnerships as pure chance.

You pulled away from Michael just enough to be able to look up to his face fully. You reached just barely to his chest but then you felt even smaller. “Who is this?”

You tried not to notice her eyes narrow down at your small figure. The way she trailed her gaze up and down your body, sizing you up. Or the small smirk that formed when she decided she didn’t have much to worry about when it came to Michael.

A hot anger brushed through you but you didn’t want to be that girl. The one who was insecure over her relationship even when nothing had happened yet. There was nothing to be insecure about.

You weren’t the only one who had caught April’s judgy gaze on you. Michael noticed it too and as soon as he did, he pulled you tightly into his side, holding onto you protectively. As if trying to shield you from the girl who didn’t deserve to make you feel bad or uncomfortable. Not when you were home while she wasn’t even welcome.

“No one.” He said and his tone held no room for debate. For him she was no one. An icy glare was fixed on April as he said it. But, paradoxically, his hand rubbed up and down your arm gently to comfort and reassure you as much as he could.

April sighed dramatically, looking away towards the open kitchen at her side. “Look, I already did most of it. I just figured you’d want to at least try finishing it with me. Plus, it’d be nice to catch up don’t you think?”

“No.”

You took a hold of his big hand and squeezed it, sending his gaze shooting immediately down to you. His brows furrowed in confusion, searching for anything that could be wrong. All you had to do was say the word and he’d kick her out if it was making you too uncomfortable.

But your mind was drifting more to him. He needed the points. No matter your opinion or the way your mind filled with possibilities and fears of who exactly April was to Michael, you knew he should do the project with her. What would it hurt anyway? It was for school and you would be right there if anything were to go awry.

“Mikey, it’s okay.” Michael looked at you in wonder. You really were such a good person and he wondered not for the first time how exactly you were his. He didn’t think it was possible to love you more. You were perfect.

He would never be so understanding in the same situation. In fact, he couldn’t really think of himself even allowing a man that had been with you the way April had with him close to you or your home at all. His chest constricted in anger just at the thought.

April watched with narrow eyes as you persuaded a reluctant Michael into not only not kicking her out but to even move to the couch where April was standing behind. She never truly got over Michael after he iced her out of his life. Especially when she was starting to fall for him. But she learned to live without him even if her mind always wandered to what could have been if he hadn’t ruined everything. When she heard he had gotten a girlfriend it was the icing on top of her anger. When she saw what you were like compared to him and hell compared to her, it was disbelief that covered her. The great Michael ended what he had fought against her so much to get…for you?

Michael only moved because you seemed to want him to. He kept his gaze on you, studying you for any sign that would tell him you were changing your mind. But when he finally stood right at the couch, next to April with your little body right in front of him he understood; you were doing it for his sake, to help him with his class and get the grades he needed. Even if it meant sending him to someone you didn’t feel secure with. He wanted to tell you he didn’t care, especially if it meant having to work with the brunette nightmare beside him and making you uncomfortable. But if it would keep you from being disappointed in him, if it would give you a sense of pride in him then he would do it. Not happily of course. But he’d do it for you.

He didn’t even glance at April though she was the closest she’d been physically to him since the moment he stopped talking to her. No, his entire attention was on you and he intended to keep it that way. You were his priority. If he had to balance making you happy and keeping you comfortable, he’d do it.

So when he finally sat down at the couch, he took you by your waist and brought you down to sit on his lap with his arms around your body. While you knew how touchy he was, at that moment you never appreciated it more. It gave you a reassurance you didn’t realize you needed so heavily. He was willing to stake his claim in front of a girl from his past and it felt like he was sending a bigger message than usual. He was yours.

The atmosphere was tense as April slowly sat down next to him, her hands grabbing for the notebook next to her on the couch. Her gaze was cool as she glanced at both of you. Even up close you could see her almost model-esque physique. While you very much embodied more of a doll-like look. You were so different that you wondered how Michael had gone from her to you. Even if you two obviously played different roles in his life.

Lucky for you, Michael seemed to prefer you, evidenced by the way his eyes never left your profile and his hands couldn’t stop moving along your legs. He loved your submissiveness, your size, your innocence. You couldn’t help the smug smile on your face.

April was just a figure he vaguely acknowledged was there. After all, he didn’t really want to deal with her in the first place.

His gaze didn’t even turn to her when she began going over the work she had already done for class. And, to be fair, it was a lot. It was a big project and she had done all but the last couple slides. Which, you couldn’t help but think, meant she didn’t need Michael’s help. Yet she had gone out of her way to search him out.

Your discomfort manifested itself further when April stopped talking and moved her eyesight from her notebook and laptop to look directly at you two again. You could see her going over exactly how to say what she was thinking for a moment. Michael didn’t notice, his eyes were looking into the distance, bored with only the way his fingertips trailed featherlike along the skin of your arms to tell you he was still conscious.

“You know we really don’t need you to be here, it’s distracting.” Her words were blunt and harsh. While you had gotten used to your boyfriend being so straightforward, hearing it from her, someone who clearly didn’t have an interest in your feelings, it stung.

Her tone was enough to have Michael’s eyes finally snapping to her. “What the fuck did you just say?” His arms tightened around you protectively as if wanting to physically keep you from her words.

April’s eyes widened just a bit at his flare up. “I’m just saying you’re not paying attention because she’s here and we could finish this a lot quicker if-”

Michael sat up just slightly, his eyes blazing as he stared at her incredulously. “I don’t know who you think you fucking are to even be able talk to her. From where I’m standing, she’s the only reason I haven’t kicked you out. So if you want anyone to leave, you leave and finish your own shit because I’ve seen more of your face than I ever wanted to again.”

His words were so mean that even you felt hurt. But more so hurt to hear your boyfriend speak that way. And upset to know that he was willing to lose the percentage points this project would give him because of you. April was right in a way, the anger between them was just being amplified by your presence because Michael cared more about how April was making you feel than anything else.

So, you took a hold of his face in your hands, forcing him to look at you instead of her. His eyes immediately became softer as he stared into your eyes. Worry swirled with anger in his light colored pupils.

“I’ll be in your room, okay Mikey? Just finish your project up quickly and I’ll be right here.” Your tone was soothing and you felt your heart constrict with appreciation as he nodded slowly. He was willing to obey you, to stay with someone he nearly hated to make you happy and proud.

Before you stood, you made sure to place your mouth to his in a deep kiss. You always kissed him before you left but this time you went deeper and more passionate than usual. It was more for your sake and reassurance that you trusted him than it was to send a message to April but if it did both, then that was just a plus. His tongue prodded your mouth, he was never one to care about who was watching when he was with his girl. You felt yourself start to react more but you pulled away before it became too much of a spectacle.

He let you go reluctantly after that as you made your way to his room and made yourself comfortable on his bed. But not before seeing the way he crossed his arms across his chest and stared emptily at April. You watched as April moved slowly closer to him, using her notes and showing him her slides as an excuse. Your heart constricted at the sight but you trusted Michael enough to make yourself leave and besides you would be a few seconds away if anything went wrong.

It was for Michael’s sake. To get him the grades he needed. You wanted him to be involved in his academics and this would achieve that. Even if you knew April’s motivations were anything but her grades. It would all be fine.

You repeated that to yourself for the first half hour. Even when you tried to distract yourself on your phone, your mind kept wandering to Michael and April. What could be taking them this long? She said she was nearly done and you were sure Michael wouldn’t do anything to prolong the time he would have to spend with her. Was she moving slowly on purpose?

Standing up, you began pacing nervously around his room. You wondered just how close she had managed to get to him on that couch that suddenly seemed too small. This was all out of your realm of expertise. You’d never had to worry about another girl knowing Michael so well. You’d never had to be insecure to this extent. But how could you not be when she was so beautiful and obviously had a past with your boyfriend? Worse even was that Michael never talked about her, never even mentioned her so you had no idea how far their history ran. Or why Michael disliked her so much. Was she an ex-girlfriend? Though you distinctly remembered him telling you he’d never had a real girlfriend before you. Just several hook ups.

The insecurities ran through your mind faster than you could even process them. Maybe that was why you decided to go get a drink from the kitchen, you could just glance at them to see their process. To make sure Michael’s temper was still in check.

So that was exactly what you did, nearly an hour after you left him, you gently opened the door and silently made your way to the fridge. You glanced at the couch on your way, noticed the way April was typing mindlessly on her laptop and the way Michael was leaned as far he could away from her, his arms still crossed and still silent. The only sounds were the keyboard clicks.

As soon as Michael heard his door open, you felt his eyes following your every move. Your heartbeat quickened because there was just something so erotic to know that you had the power to focus his entire attention to you, even when he had another beautiful woman right in front of him. He didn’t speak but every move you made had your body heating up just knowing his silent gaze was trailing you from the bedroom doorway to the fridge.

You had to blame it on him when you bent over unnecessarily to search the bottom row of the fridge for a bottled water. You were hyperaware of the way your, already short, skirt skimmed just enough to give him a peek of your panties.

It was quick but effective. You knew because as soon as you turned back to him, you saw the way gaze hardened on you. His jaw was set and his eyes trailed up and down your body slowly, effectively undressing you with his eyes. You knew it was taking everything in him not to get up and just deal with you right then and there.

Which, you definitely wouldn’t mind. You were teasing him and you knew it. But it gave you the ability to emphasize that you were the only girl who clouded his mind, the one he could make him react that way. Even with April, clueless to what was going on right in front of her and to the fact that Michael’s mind had trailed away from the work to his fantasies.

Your eyes met his directly as you trailed one of your hands down to push the front side of your skirt up, giving him a tasteful look of your thigh and panties while you cupped yourself and the other using the wet water bottle to push the front of your shirt collar down, giving him a full look of your cleavage as you kneaded your tits.

It was dirty and it wasn’t something you normally would even think of doing. Especially in a situation where April could turn around any second and catch you. But given your discomfort at the situation she brought with her and the way you had Michael’s full attention despite her, you couldn’t bring yourself to care.

You definitely had Michael’s attention. He tried to be inconspicuous when he grabbed a hold of a pillow and placed it on top of his lap. But he didn’t shy away from gazing at your exhibited body. His hands were clenching and unclenching in an attempt to control himself from doing exactly what he was currently imagining doing to you in that moment. Honestly, he didn’t really care what consequences it would bring but he knew you likely wouldn’t appreciate it.

But the sight was downright sinful. Seeing his shy, usually nervous and too kind girlfriend teasing him so out in the open, in a way that was not so subtly staking her own claim on him was a turn on he’d never experienced before. But he loved it. He thought he might cum in his pants when you bit your bottom lip as your fingers trailed over your clothed pussy, all while staring directly at him.

Fuck.

His eyes were infinitely darker with lust as his gaze followed you when you collected yourself and all but skipped back to his room. Skipped. You fucking skipped like a giggling schoolgirl back to the place he could so easily go and fuck you in. He wanted to ruin you, his eyes nearly rolled in the back of his eyes at the images flashing through his mind.

You gagging around his cock, you crying from the pleasure as he took you from behind, you covered in his cum.

He had to cover his eyes with his hand to collect himself. Keeping his hand on the pillow firmly to hide the large bulge forming in the front of his pants.

If only he wasn’t stuck with the annoyingly slow-working girl from his past. He could go to where you were laying down, vulnerable and willing in his bed.

But instead of doing what you both wished he would, but knew he couldn’t, you were left for a few more minutes alone in his room and now unnecessarily horny from your own actions. You really didn’t think it through as now all you wanted was for him to finish his project so he could make you feel good.

It was only a few minutes though because soon enough you heard Michael’s gruff voice even through the closed door. “Don’t fucking touch me.”

You ran out of the room as fast as you could just to see a very angry Michael holding on to April’s slim wrist painfully. It was in such an angle where it was clear she had gotten too close, laid her hands on him and he reacted.

April was gasping but you weren’t sure if it was from pain or from the surprise at his swift actions. But that soon developed into a teasing smile, “I almost forgot how rough you could be.”

You saw Michael’s eyes widened and his lips curling in disgust, likely more so at the fact that you had to hear what had just come out of her mouth. He let go of her almost immediately. Her words would have no impact other than the fact that they were meant to almost exclusively humiliate you with how she had had Michael before you. He never regretted his past as much as he did right then. You didn’t deserve to be in the middle of his actions. He knew if the sides were switched and one of your old fuck buddies (if you had any) said that in front of him, it would not end well.

This time, his eyes weren’t the only ones that were blazing with anger. You felt your throat tighten in anger as you moved forward. You had suspected that was what their relationship was but to see her say it so crudely and disrespectfully in front of you unleashed an anger that you didn’t experience much of.

You got in between them quickly, you were shorter than she was but you were also angrier. “Get away from my boyfriend.” You said with a authoritative voice you didn’t even know you were capable of having.

Even Michael’s eyes glanced at you with surprise. You’ve never been the jealous one or the angry one, that was all him. So this was a first for him. And he couldn’t say he didn’t like.

April gave you a mocking grin, “Maybe you’d have a right to be mad if his dick hasn’t fucked half of the girls at this school.” When she took a step toward you, Michael took a hold of you and effectively threw you behind his large frame to step in between. His way of protecting you from her cruel words even if you didn’t think you needed the protection right then, you wanted to face her even if you’d never been in a fight before in your life. It was the principle of it. She had disrespected you.

But Michael seemed to take a hold of that burden because he glared down at her and spoke in a tone that was so icy, you had goosebumps. And you knew he was still controlling himself, because you were there and he didn’t want to scare you. “Get the fuck out before I make you. Get your shit and don’t ever even look at my girl again. You’ve never mattered to me for you to think you have anything over her.”

He was mad, so mad you could almost feel him shaking. The pure thought of his past actions being thrown in your face the way it had made him see red. You didn’t deserve to hear that. He felt so much anger at himself, at April, that all he wanted was to collect you in his arms and apologize, to reassure you that you were the only one who mattered, the only one he loved.

You tried to look past him just enough to see April clench her jaw and weigh her options. But it appeared that no matter how much time she had known him for, or how well, even she knew not to mess with a Michael that was this angry. Because she hadn’t faced his anger when it came to protecting you, it was lethal.

Michael moved with her as she packed up and headed to the door, making sure she was gone as quickly as possible. You’d never heard the door slam so loudly as he locked the door behind her.

And just like that it was like a flip had been switched. He was still mad, you could tell by his tense shoulders but he was mostly worried and almost nervous as he moved back to you. His hands took a hold of your forearms, “I’m sorry.” He said, looking down at you for any sign of your distress. “I’m sorry you had to hear her say that. I was hard because of you and she was too fucking stupid to know it wasn’t for her. I should’ve kicked her out as soon as I saw her, I should have-”

Your lips cut him off roughly. You nearly pushed him backward at your spontaneous actions, as you swung your arms around his neck to pull yourself up to his mouth. Even he was surprised by your actions though he still didn’t hesitate to kiss you back and pick you up so you could reach his mouth more comfortably. You wrapped your legs around his waist and ran your fingers through his hair. You weren’t one to start anything sexual and he was perfectly fine with it. But this was a welcome change.

But you weren’t yourself fully right then. The knowledge that April had experienced him like you have, experienced the roughness he exhibited with you that you loved so much had sent you into a frenzy. You didn’t know how much of what he was like in bed with you was similar to other girls. And that bothered you much more than you’d like to admit. You wanted to be special for him. And you didn’t want to share that dominant part of him that you loved so much. Especially knowing you were the most submissive girl he’d ever been with. You were more inexperienced than most but you were the only one Michael would react to, the only one who could get him so hot.

You vaguely felt yourself being moved as Michael carried you to the couch, sitting down so you were directly straddling his lap. It was closer than his room and he needed to feel you. All of you. You felt his hand go to the back of your neck to hold you still as his tongue explored your mouth. Your hips ground against his jean-clad crotch desperately.

You were moaning against his kiss and you felt Michael push your hips deeper into his own, groaning under his breath when you pulled away from the kiss. He was left with taking the sight in front of him in. You, moaning and blushing wildly on top of him, your skirt pulled up to your waist and your shirt exposing your cleavage to him. You were a sight for sore eyes.

He wasn’t entirely sure what had gotten into you but he wasn’t complaining. Especially not when you lifted your shirt off of you, leaving you bare for him. You were moving quickly.

He was so mesmerized at this pleasant turn of events that had shifted the mood of the afternoon so far that he let you off of his lap easily. He watched as you shed yourself of your skirt and panties and he was quick to follow. He fumbled rapidly with his belt and took his shirt off as quickly as he could with one hand.

He was slightly out of the realm he was used to. He’d always been the one who led your sex life so with you being the one to initiate this once was new to him. But it was so very hot.

When you straddled him again, his length was pressing against his stomach at the feeling of your naked body and pussy on him. His hands traveled through every curve of your body and he made a move to lay you down on the couch and get on top of you but you stopped him.

Part of you worried that Ashton could come back and walk in at any moment and see you two. You tried not to have sex in the shared living space for curtesy to Ashton. Michael, on the other hand, didn’t care at all when it came to being with you. Not about being interrupted or even about being watched. And right then, you didn’t care either.

“Let me ride you.” You sounded so cute when you asked something so dirty and that had him cursing under his breath. He was the dominant one in the relationship, always had been and always will be. So he had never let you be on top before, couldn’t imagine not having complete control. But you needed this, right then. You had something to prove.

Instead of denying you, he just smashed his lips to yours again and nodded. You broke the kiss as you held yourself up to be able to lower yourself onto him. Michael, one of his hand on your waist, spit on his palm and stroked himself with it as you were hovering above him. You were practically dripping on him.

“Fuck, I’m so hard for you, little one.” He muttered as he slowly maneuvered you down onto his big cock. His words, the exact ones you needed to hear, along with the foreign angle for you was a lot to take. His girth stretched you out perfectly and you squeezed your hands on his shoulders as you moaned out his name. You were almost worried about the scratches you could have left on him as you took in the pleasure but you knew you wouldn’t be able to see them through the dark ink that took up nearly every inch of skin on his neck and upper body.

Michael began setting the pace for you as you began bouncing on his dick. He could give up the control of being on top but he was still in charge, always. And you didn’t mind. You constricted your walls against him and sighed out in bliss as he moved you closer to him so that he could drive into you at a faster, more pleasurable pace but also so that your face could be directly at his ear.

Enough for you to whisper, “This is m-my cock.” Your possessive words were more broken and stuttered as the pleasure of riding him was more incredible than you could have imagined. Every time he bottomed out in you, your skin slapping against his thighs, you couldn’t help the loud elongated moan that left you.

Your words were new for you and Michael loved it. Hearing you so possessive over him made a surge of pride flow through him. You were his and he was yours. Just like it was meant to be.

He pulled your hair tightly, making your head pull back with it. Your entire body so much more exposed and vulnerable for him. Even at a moment when you were more serious than usual, your cheeks were still painted red nervously, your bent legs reaching just to his knees as your small figure moved on top of him. That dichotomy had him craving for more of you. Even as he was currently driving into you at a rough pace. He’d never get tired of feeling you around him.

So he moved his hands from your hips and moved to take a hold of your ass so that his control of your pace and movements was practically complete. You were so easy to control. He was lifting you so easily. He moved your lower body at a faster rate that had his cock disappearing into you at a new speed you’d never experienced before. He knew because of the way you gasped out and held onto him weakly, your strength slowly leaving you.

“Oh, yes!” You couldn’t even really close your mouth anymore at the nonstop whines filtering out of you, pairing nicely with Michael’s deep groans and curse words littering out of him. Your eyes nearly rolled to the back of your head at the feeling of your boyfriend’s big cock filling you to the brim. Your walls hugged him tighter than usual as he squeezed himself into you. He could definitely get used to this position with you.

“Yeah? Gonna make me yours?” He watched your face in fascination as he stopped his pace, holding you still just for him to be able to hold you still and drill into you. He swore he nearly saw his bulge poking near your abdomen and he nearly came right then and there. You were so small and this position was so close spaced. And still you stared at him with the big doe eyes he loved so much and even as you rode him like a fucking whore, you still managed to be the innocent little virginal girl he had fallen for. God, he loved you. How anyone could think you were anything but the embodiment of everything he could ever want was beyond him.

He wasn’t expecting it when you moved to whisper in his ear, “You’re already mine, daddy.”

That was enough for all the self control and sexual tension he had pent up since the moment you left his room and teased him to snap. He was done with giving you even the illusion of control.

Michael flipped you roughly so your back was now on the couch and his large figure eclipsed yours. He wasted no time in taking over the pace completely. He thrusted into you expertly at a rough, bruising snapping pace. One that had you writhing and reaching for anything you could hold on to.

It was like he was waiting for his moment to be able to be on top again because his hand immediately found your neck and choked you deliciously. You took a hold of his tatted wrist but didn’t try to move it and instead just held it as you stared up at him, your mouth open and your eyes crunched up in pleasure.

“That’s right, baby girl. So fucking good.” He groaned as he moved his face closer. “You’re such a fucking slut for my cock and it’s yours. Only yours. Look at you almost drooling for it.”

The sound of skin slapping was louder and more punctuated, matching the volume of your high pitched moans. Still staring down at you, he moaned out as his free hand massaged your tits sensually. “That’s it, moan for daddy.”

His words made your walls tighten around him and his hips stuttered at the feeling. But you needed more, your hips began moving right alongside his thrusts, meeting them with a desperate vigor.

“P-Please.” You were blushing wildly but you weren’t even sure what you were asking for. You just needed more of him so you could know that whatever happened in his past, didn’t matter the moment you came into his life. You were his only and his best.

Michael pushed three fingers against your mouth, all the while choking you harder in the best way possible. When you opened your mouth to him, he wasted no time in shoving his fingers deep into your mouth. You were gagging against his long fingers as he kept them as deeply as possible in your throat. You felt tears at your eyes but you still wanted more.

“Take it.” Michael was watching with dark eyes. “You’ve had me hard all day.” He loved the way your spit coated his fingers as he drew them out of your mouth, trailing them down to where you two were united and began working on your clit. “Wanted to ruin you from the moment you went into my room.”

He leaned down to capture your lips for a quick kiss. “I wouldn’t have cared about ditching her, would’ve fucked you so good you’d be crying like the good little whore you are for me.” He could feel himself ready to cum and the sight of your small body being so destroyed under him was just helping that fact.

Your moans had become more broken and you looked almost delirious with your incoming climax. “Yeah, you like that?” He growled down to you, “You know exactly what I like, taught you so well. Fuck, you’re perfect for me. You’re mine. This cunt was made only for me. No one can even compare.”

And that was exactly what you needed to hear. You came around him, your walls tightening around him as you rode out your high. He never stopped thrusting, even when your cum coated his thighs. In fact, he just groaned out louder.

“Look at you creaming all over my dick.” His thrusts slowed down and his grip on your neck loosened as he reached his own release inside of you. It was a mixture of your tight walls around him and the way you looked so euphoric under him, tears down your cheeks from the pleasure and shaking from your release, the way he knew you had gotten like this because you were claiming him as yours (even though you had nothing to worry about), that did it for him.

He didn’t pull out of you immediately. Instead he enjoyed the feeling of you being so close, so connected to him. Especially when your eyes held such a content glint, a glint that said that all your insecurities had just vanished.

When he did pull out, he glanced down to see the way his cum oozed out of you, he had filled you so good and the sight had him closing his eyes to prevent himself from ravishing you again.

You were both glistening and panting. His tattoos looked even more prominent and you bit your lip, closing your thighs quickly to stop the heat rushing to your belly at the sight. Your boyfriend was so hot. Your body felt like jelly and you didn’t really think you could move even if you wanted to.

Michael moved down to kiss you again. The kiss was open mouthed and heavy even after all you had already done. “I don’t know what just got into you, little one but you were so hot.” He said in between kisses. “I’d say you were jealous but you have nothing to be jealous of.”

His hands was laid on your stomach and he laid himself down as comfortably as he could on the small space. He brought you close to him, burying his face into your neck. You were on top of him as he held you almost like a teddy bear.

You bit your lip and weighed your next words carefully. “I wasn’t jealous just….insecure.”

Michael paused and stared at you, silently. You could practically see the gears turning in his head as he processed just exactly what you said. “I don’t know how you can say shit like that.”

His words were harsh but his gaze was very much worried and protective.

“Is this about the shit April said to you? You should’ve never heard that. And you never will again, I’ll make sure of it. I don’t want you thinking of it, everyone else, her, I don’t fucking care about them, never did.”

You trialed your hand up and down his chest, your eyes never meeting his as you nodded. “I know. It’s not that, it’s just…all these girls have been with you the same way I have and I don’t feel like I have much ground to stand on, especially when what might be so special and new to me isn’t so much to you.”

His hands found your chin and forced your gaze to his serious expression. He hated that his own actions, even if they were from the past, made you feel that way. Especially when he so obviously worshipped you like he never had with anyone before. Your beauty and very person was unmatchable. You were more than special to him.

“You think I’ve fucked other girls like I fuck you? Baby girl, you’re the only one I’ve ever been this way with. I never used pet names or talked to them like I do to you, I always kicked them out right after. You’re the only one who can take me, you have no idea what having you be fucking innocent but still letting me be the only one to touch you does to me. They don’t matter, not compared to you.”

His words filled your body with a sense of love. His words weren’t the most traditional but it meant a lot coming from your blunt boyfriend. You whisper of ‘I love you’ was a soft whisper before you pecked his lips.

His reply came in the form of neck kisses. A lot of them. You weren’t sure if the hickeys he was forming on your neck was for your sake or his. But it felt good either way. Both the sensation of his lips on your skin and the pride of being claimed by him. And you were even prouder to know you were the only would who had ever or will ever wear his marks.

He was right. You had nothing to be insecure about. He was yours.

#michael clifford smut #michael clifford x reader #bad boy smut #jealous smut #bad boy michael #5sos #5sos imagines #5sos smut

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fe-semi-decent-scenarios · 4 years

Note

Could I ask headcanons of Black Eagles flirting and crushing on Byleth (professor?)?

[Ask and you shall receive lol. Lately I’ve been busying myself with long reports, so I needed something cutsey to recharge.(Sorry if it’s complete rubbish lol) It’s not much but I hope you like it!]

Edelgard:

Ehh. She won’t be a student much longer anyways.

Byleth will always be her professor...but maybe another title can be ticked onto that list? She hopes so.

However, she doesn’t go too overboard. Just a few teasing gestures and quips every once in a while to sedate the budding sentiment in her heart

With more pressing issues over love, Edelgard can’t afford to play the role of lovesick schoolgirl

She sets side her personal feelings for the professor when around others. Instead they are treated as a good friend and adored instructor. Alongside the present given on Byleth’s birthday are a few other trinkets Edelgard picked up herself, you know, because she’s extra

When alone her thoughts often drift. There are many occasions where work ends up procrastinated

She keeps everything bottled up inside and doesn’t even hint at the idea of a crush to anyone. To love is to be compromised, to be compromised is to be weak, and to be weak is to fail

This is something she firmly believes until the support of her peers and affection from her professor begin to challenge it

Perhaps there is room for love in her future

“My teacher, you are an important companion to everyone here and to myself. You must never forget that”

Hubert:

Oh he is smooooth.

Yet subtle

He knows that he shouldn’t become too attached considering what’s to come in the future. His mind and body are her highness’ to command

....well, all good things come in moderation anyways. What’s a little meaningless flirting?

His flirting methods follow the ‘attack of opportunity’ plan. Meaning that he tosses in his quips when the time seems fitting

He knows what he is doing. Never assume otherwise

Obviously such conduct towards a teacher is unrefined. Does he care? The guy couldn’t give less of a sh*t

He has 100% commented on their dancing attire at least once

People should mind their own business lest they want to lose their tongue. Can’t gossip when you can’t speak, right?

If the professor doesn’t seem to mind then why should he stop? If they recuperate then that’s even better

It’s no fun when prey doesn’t fight back once in a while.

“Oh do go on. The droll behind your ever so taunting tone is intoxicating. It almost makes this insufferable lecture mildly entertaining” -shots fired. Professor or not, ‘love interest’ or enemy, Hubert does not tone down the sarcasm

No one even suspects that he has an interest in Byleth. He downright makes it appear that they are his sworn enemy (whether this is intentional or not? You decide)

Caspar:

‘Flirt’? ‘Caspar’? That’s funny

It’s not that he can’t do it. Caspar can be very charming when he wants to be, but why bother?

They’re his professor. If he starts kissing up to them then the others might start to think he’s pegging for special treatment

He also doesn’t want them to like a facade. He wants them to like him

Not that he would turn said special treatment down if offered. He d o e s want to get stronger, and the extra time with his “favorite”*wink* professor is a lucky bonus

He tends to have a ‘lingering eye’ that’s easy to pick up on if you catch my drift

he is not pure hearted, just a dunce. There is a difference

The boy blushes at every little action without even noticing

He loves to watch them train, both to better his own moves and to admire them without it seeming weird

Literally everyone knows that Caspar has a thing for Byleth before he knows it himself. He’s the kind that mistakes a crush for admiration

He’s also a big baby when it comes to them giving other people attention.

He justifies his interruptions as: “The professor doesn’t have time to do __ for __! They have enough to do as it is!”

Now what does that translate to in Caspar language?: “The time the professor spends doing __ is time they could spend with our class me”

Someone help him. He’s so thick headed it’s actually sad

Petra:

“My apologies. I will be returning after the clearing of my head”

She’s unfamiliar with the courting methods in Fodlan. Are they the same as in Bridgid?

Thoughts of the professor occasionally will interfere with her study time

Also her appetite. Normally she eats plenty at meals since she hates waste, but the professor makes her nervous about her etiquette

let’s just ignore that Byleth eats like a ravenous boar

She wants to take them to see Bridgid. It’s only natural to want to share the things you love with those you care about

She embraces the affection she feels. Byleth is a truly wonderful person and the royal family would gladly accept them if Petra expressed her feelings

When she returns she wants to ask them to accompany her

For now she will remain at their side both in battle, in leisure, and in spirit

Petra also isn’t one to approach with caution. The way she flirts is through honesty

If they do something she likes then she says so. If they look nice or are trying something new then she’ll comment on it. If she sees something in the shop that they might like, then she buys it

Petra is simple. She does for Byleth what she thinks will make them happy and doesn’t overthink it in the slightest

Dorothea:

The newfound feelings aren’t discouraged nor appreciated. It is a battle between practicality and love for her

Not because of them being a professor, but everything else

Mercenary, teacher, reincarnate, solider, tactician, etc.

Such a dangerous profession with so much blood on their hands. Are those the ones she wants to hold for the rest of their days?

Will they even live long enough to grow old with her?

She wants a reliable partner to take care of her and not give her a heart attack on a daily basis. So far only one box is checked

She will not be a widow at such a young age. She refuses

When these thoughts emerge Dorothea retracts from Byleth. There’s still the open friendliness that was there before, but now an extra barrier has been put up

She won’t go out of her way to give Byleth special treatment. Her search for a partner other than them will continue on

Maybe she’ll find someone else to smash these feelings so that there will be no need to confront them

Only after they ‘die’ will she stop suppressing them.

“To think that it took such a disaster for me to see the light. Why do people realize such things when it’s too late?” - she focuses on personal growth until the reunion. Relying on another person to prevent the past from reappearing is not what she wants.

Ferdinand:

The best way that Ferdinand can communicate his feelings is through words

He tries. He really tries to come across as a potential life partner for the professor. He can only be a student for so long, and they’re close in age. Logically there is nothing wrong with the possibility of a courtship

but because speaking ‘frilly’ is a normality the effect is not like how he hoped

When Ferdinand falls, he falls hard. Yes, he is a flirt. Yes, he stretches himself thin trying to please everyone. Yes, he has his quirks that make him extremely confrontational

So when he finds someone with the ability to make him both strengthen his morals, question the bigger picture, and grow as an individual (after the whole ‘noble’ mine-bomb) it’s a big deal

Therefore he will not relent in his pursuit of Byleth unless they explicitly tell him to stop. If words don’t work then he instantly pegs for quality time and acts of affirmation

Greets them every morning, carries their supplies, invites them to tea, delivers lost items, etc. People really do peg him as a kiss ass.

He doesn’t get the ‘heart flutters’ that people talk about. When he’s beside the professor he just feels energized. Like he could actually beat Edelgard ‘could’ is the key word in that scentence

“Good morning Professor! If your schedule allows it, would you care to join me for tea later this afternoon? Your company would make it the perfect level of sweetness”

Linhardt:

A firm believer of “age is but a number”

It’s more of his personal beliefs that tone down any pursuit of the professor. They are currently in a position of power over him that halts any relationship progression at a professional level.

So as any healthy person does: he vents any growing affection into his studies

He h a t e s how they make him restless.He’ll be feeling drowsy one moment but then their face will pop into his mind

He can’t even sleep through class. Not with them there

Actually works in the class’ favor since he starts contributing to the lectures. If you can’t beat them then might as well join them

This is how it is during pre-timeskip for the most part. Occasionally he will let his thoughts slip but never any action

He has crests to research and Byleth has students that seemingly want to die by the hour. There is literally no time to flirt

Now AFTER the timeskip, things are different. Linhardt is a blunt person which sometimes works in his favor. Just so happens that flirting comes naturally to him

most of the time it doesn’t though

“Could you refrain from doing that? It’s distracting” “Linhardt, i’m stretching. How is that distracting?” “You are an attractive individual. Need I say more?”

Life is short. He has no filter

Bernadetta:

“HI PROFESSOR!” “Afternoon Bernadetta. I see you’re out of your room today” “W-what? OH! Yes. Y-y-yEs i aM IM SORRY I’LL GO BACK PLEASE DON’T PATRONIZE MEEEEE”

She’s scared. What’s new?

The girl never expected to have these feelings. One night she was painting when what was supposed to be a cloud began to resemble her professor

It was downhill from there.

Her behavior is exactly the same as prior to her feelings. Being a naturally jittery person works to her advantage, no one suspects a thing!

Compared to simply being friends it will take longer for her to be comfortable

She will avoid Byleth at all times outside of lessons. It’s just too hard to communicate anymore

Eventually her outer shell will crack. The once new feelings will begin to feel normal and the old bernie will be back. Jittery, hyperactive, kind, lovable bernie

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chocoluckchipz · 4 years

Text

The Other You - 12

Read it on A03, FF.net, WattPad

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An evening of trying to figure out how needles and threads, seams and stitches, the whole sewing thing worked was exactly what Adrien needed—a distraction in the face of the horrible job he’d done of helping Marinette. It helped him to forget his current reality, if only for a few hours. The praise he’d gotten from Marinette for his attempts, however undeserved he thought it to be, felt like a blanket of love and happiness, swaddling him away from all his troubles.

Marinette was the highlight of the evening. She was everything he could ever wish for at that moment and more. Her attempts to comfort him without any context, her heartfelt laughter at his jokes, her kindness… it all nagged at the bud of their hibernating friendship, making Adrien want to help her even more, to get her out of the pit she’d been thrust into and apologize along the way for everything he’d done.

He didn’t really want to leave, but he had to. One fleeting remark Marinette had made, however, had stuck in his head all the way home and refused to leave even as he was climbing into the window of his apartment.

Sometimes I wish I could be Hawkmoth. I’d akumatize myself an army of seamstresses and would be done with this line in no time.

Chat Noir had changed the subject as fast as he could despite realizing full well that it was a joke, something Marinette would most likely forget the next moment. Yet for him, that prospect was a real possibility, and his mind grabbed onto the idea, not only refusing to let go but deliberating on the details all the way home. He found Nooroo as soon as he’d gotten to his bedroom.

“Can you make an akuma that can sew?”

The kwami, awoken from his sleep, blinked in confusion. “Sew?”

“Yes. I need an akuma that can make clothes, to be exact. And be really good at it. Can you make something like that?” Adrien asked.

Nooroo nodded. “Yes. My wielder can make any akuma with any abilities they wish.”

Adrien sat down on his bed, his mind running in overdrive. It was a crazy idea. He knew that, but he also realized by now that finding a qualified, skilled professional for Marinette on such short notice and in their particular situation with Gabriel steadily going under required no less than a miracle. And, if he couldn’t find her an assistant quick, would it be so bad if he made her one? He’d continue looking for a real person of course, but until the right one came along, would it be so horrible if he akumatized someone to help Marinette?

Eager to follow your father’s footsteps?

The thought alone made him cringe and, pushing it aside, Adrien stood up to get ready for bed. He was not his father, and he would never akumatize people against their will to meet his own agenda.

But if it’s for a good cause?

Adrien stalled, then shook his head and proceeded with getting ready for bed. However he looked at it, the things his father had done were wrong. Even thinking about it these last few days after finding out the whole situation, Adrien couldn’t find in himself to excuse the man. Yes, Gabriel’s goal was somewhat good: saving his wife. Healing his loved one. What was so bad about that? Nothing. His seemingly noble goal, however, didn’t justify his actions. The temptation of an easy fix had blinded Gabriel, slowly ripping him away from reality, stripping him of compassion and reason and little by little, turning him into a monster. Should Adrien repeat his father’s mistake and succumb to the same temptation of an easy fix, disregarding how that may affect others?

Never.

He finished brushing his teeth and put his toothbrush away, catching his own reflection in a mirror.

What about you?

Adrien tilted his head to the side, his eyebrows knitted into a frown. What about him, indeed. Self-akumatazation was possible. He didn’t have to manipulate someone else. He could give those skills to himself and help Marinette on his own. Akumatazation would change his appearance so she wouldn’t know it was him.

Appearance?

Adrien puffed. Who was he kidding? The moment anyone saw him, they’d know he was an akuma since all akumas looked… No. Not all of them. There were somewhat normal-ish looking akumas like Copy Cat or that time Lila was Chameleon. She took on completely normal appearances even if stolen. Luka’s mom didn’t look too crazy as well.

“Nooroo?” he called, going back to his bedroom. “Do akumas always have to look so ridiculous? Can’t they look like a normal person?”

“It depends,” the kwami responded. “Usually there is always something unnatural about akumas because human biology and magic mixed together can’t produce what you consider ‘normal’. However, if someone is a shape-shifter then they can take on as normal of an appearance as they’d like.”

Adrien smirked. Shape-shifting akuma it was then. “Okay. Now, tell me more about how this whole self-akumatization thing works.”

“What are you getting at, Adrien?” Plagg grumbled from his bed. “Go to sleep. You get crazy ideas when you’re tired.”

Adrien ignored him. “Nooroo?”

“Yes, Master,” Nooroo replied, flying closer. “It basically works the same way as akumatizing someone: you pinpoint an object, send an akuma, and give yourself powers. Only with self-akumatazation, there is no one but you in control.”

“And what about de-akumatazation?”

“You can retract the butterfly at will.”

“So, kind of like taking down the transformation?”

“Yes, in a way. Only it is done in stages. First, you recall akuma by will alone, no catchphrase needed. Then, you release the butterfly transformation. However, you should be aware—”

“Adrien, what’s this all about?” Plagg flew closer.

“I think I found the perfect way to help Marinette.”

“And what do Nooroo and self-akumatazation have to do with it?”

“I’ll akumatize myself into a clothes-making extraordinaire and will help her to finish her line.”

Plagg stared at him in shock for a full half-minute before yelping. “You can’t do that!”

“Why not?”

“You’ve got responsibilities, for one! You’re a physics teacher and you’re trying to run that fashion-disaster company. Who’s going to do that if you’re parading around as an akuma?”

Adrien hesitated. Plagg had a point. He completely forgot about his school job. But there was only a week or so left until school was out for summer. They didn’t even do much in class these days, so he could easily find a replacement for himself. Or he could claim his saved-up sick days and let the school find someone to substitute for him. He’d have to call a few people tomorrow and see what his options were. As for Gabriel, he’d still like to be involved. Helping Marinette and the rest of Gabriel’s employees couldn’t be done if he were to skip his work at the main office.

“I can find a substitute for my class,” Adrien voiced his thoughts. “That’ll free me up to split my day between the main office and Marinette’s studio.”

“You can’t be serious.” Plagg stared at him in shock. “Adrien, self-akumatization isn’t as straight-forward and easy as it sounds. Why do you think butterfly miraculous wielders always go through the trouble of finding someone else to akumatize instead of giving the powers to themselves? There is a reason, and it’s a good one. Nooroo, tell him.”

“The main reason we avoid self-akumatization is a complete lack of rationality and self-control,” Nooroo explained. “As an akuma, you’ll become obsessed with a broader idea of your goal. For example, akuma searching for justice for a specific person usually starts to judge everyone around them, even completely innocent people. From what I can feel in your heart, Master Adrien, you most likely will be obsessed not just with sewing, but helping Marinette in general.”

“I fail to see the problem.” Adrien frowned. “Helping Marinette is exactly what I’m aiming for.”

Nooroo nervously replied. “You might go a little overboard with that.”

“That’s fine,” Adrien shrugged. “What could be bad in being overly helpful?”

“You don’t get it, do you?” Plagg grumbled from his spot. “Akumas have no restraint or social conduct notions despite their good or bad intentions. In other words, you’ll see no boundaries in what you can and cannot do. That’s why there are always two people involved: an akumatized one and the one who akumatizes. One needs the other to keep them in line because they’re incapable of being rational as akumas. You’ll be alone in this so no one would be able to stop you if you go overboard.”

Adrien sighed. “Humour me but I just don’t understand why me being helpful, even if overly, is such an issue.”

“Geez, kid,” Plagg groaned. “You’re too extra as your regular self. I’m afraid to even imagine what you’ll do as an akuma. You’ll cause millions of problems.”

Adrien quirked an eyebrow. “Like?”

“I don’t know, but you’ll surely cause plenty,” Plagg grumbled. “Nooroo, tell him.”

“Well, for one,” Nooroo responded. “You may disregard everything else in your life and keep helping Marinette 24/7. You might not want to leave her side. You might try helping her in everything she does, not just her work. And I mean everything. Everywhere she goes.”

“See, kid?” Plagg scoffed. “Without anyone to control or cleanse you, it may easily turn into a disaster. So, stop being delusional and go to bed.”

Adrien paused. As unlikely as it seemed to him, maybe the kwamis had a point. He didn’t think of that but looking back at all the akumas they’d fought, the “no restraint” and “obsessive goal-reaching” points made sense. Mix in the complication of him being both the akumatized and akumatizing parties… Adrien had to admit the kwamis had a right to be concerned. He wouldn't want to follow Marinette everywhere and help her with everything. She’d get a restraining order against him that same day, and what would that accomplish? He’d rather not imagine it, meaning Adrien needed someone to control him if he were to go through with this. But how could he find someone for that role without giving away the butterfly miraculous? Because giving Nooroo to anyone except Ladybug was out of the question. Giving him to her before Adrien had a chance to execute his plan was also something he couldn't do. Ladybug would never allow him to use a miraculous for personal interests.

“Give up on this insanity while you can,” Plagg grumbled, settling back into his bed. “Go to bed instead. Sleep the crazies off.”

“So, I just have to find a way to control myself?” Adrien murmured.

“No, you don’t!” Plagg sprung up from his spot. “Nothing needs to be found except that cursed assistant. You have plenty of applications. Why can’t you just choose one and be done with it?”

“Because none of those who are still willing to come onboard have the qualifications Marinette needs right now.”

“Then transfer her an assistant from a different department.”

“You think I haven’t thought of that?” Adrien plopped on his bed. “But Gabriel lost a lot of people in a short period of time. The ones that are left are all tied up and replacement isn’t coming in for a while. If I transfer one—sure, it’ll help Marinette, but I’ll be putting another department in jeopardy, and I can’t afford that because for Gabriel to survive this Fashion Week, we need at least one competent line. So, as bad as it sounds…” Adrien sighed. “The truth is, my father planned Marinette’s line as experimental, and it was supposed to debut only if she’d manage to finish it on time. At least that’s what his notes say.”

“So basically”—Plagg crossed his arms over his chest—“her line matters only to her and it has no effect on the company’s overall image?”

“Exactly.” Adrien nodded. “And no matter how much I want her to succeed, I can’t jeopardize the whole company for an experimental line. So, if I want to help her, I’ll have to do that myself.”

Plagg frowned. “Sometimes I’m astonished at how you can still care this much.”

Deep sigh escaping his lips, Adrien let memories flood his mind. “Until I screwed up our friendship, Marinette had always been nothing but kind to me, and despite everything, there is still so much good in her. She’s much stronger than I ever thought her to be, so yes, despite everything, I still care and I want to help. I owe her for my past mistakes, and it’s because of my father that she’s in the situation she’s in right now. I can’t just walk away and leave her to fail. Especially not when I can help. Don’t you think there’s a reason we found Nooroo when we did? It can’t be just a coincidence.”

Plagg pressed his lips together and stared at Adrien for a short while. “It’ll backfire. Mark my words, kid. It won’t end well. And that’s coming from the god of destruction himself.”

“I’m willing to risk it,” Adrien replied, getting under the comforter. “Tomorrow, though. I need some rest and time to come up with a way to stop myself in case it’s needed. And it’s the middle of the night, so goodnight guys. We’ll continue tomorrow.”

Plagg grumbled and flew back to his basket; Nooroo headed to his own sleeping spot.

Adrien closed his eyes and passed out, his night flying by so fast it felt like his alarm went off just a couple of minutes later. Getting out of bed, he yawned his good mornings to the kwamis and got to his morning routine. Afterwards, Adrien called the school he was working at to inform them he wouldn’t be able to finish the last week of teaching. The principal promised him it wasn’t a big deal and that with him running back and forth between Gabriel and his classroom, they anticipated this course of action and already had a replacement in mind. Adrien was free to take all the time off he needed. That matter settled, Adrien called for Nooroo.

“Change your mind, kid?” Plagg zoomed out of his basket.

“No,” Adrien said, staring at a picture frame on his night table that had caught his attention while he was on the phone. “And I think I have an idea for how you can stop me if there ever was a need.”

“Me?” Plagg yelped.

“Don’t tell me you wouldn’t enjoy having control over me?” Adrien smirked at the kwami.

Plagg pouted and turned away. “Not in the slightest.” A moment later, he looked back at Adrien. “But do tell me what you have in mind.”

Gesturing for him and the newly-appeared Nooroo to follow, Adrien headed for his home office and found an old picture of Marinette on his computer. Printing a few copies on a single sheet of paper, he cut them apart.

“Since I’m helping Marinette,” he explained to the kwamis. “I think it’s only reasonable that I use her picture as my akumatizing object. And it will be very easy for Plagg to tear if I refuse to release the butterfly. What do you think?”

“That will work,” Nooroo nodded.

“Bad idea,” Plagg grumbled. “But at least it’s something.”

Adrien looked through his schedule. “I’m free to help Marinette until around five. Then, I need to go to the main office and work there, so if I won’t cooperate, you have my permission to do anything needed to lure me somewhere private and rip the picture.”

Plagg’s tiny smirk disappeared just as fast as it’d surfaced. “Fine, but you owe me big for this.”

“I’m glad you’re finally on board,” Adrien said, standing up. “Well, if there’s nothing else to discuss, I guess we’ll start?”

“Excuse me, Master?” Nooroo asked, flying closer. “Have you chosen who you’re shifting to once akumatized?”

“Yes. My cousin Felix.”

Plagg groaned. “Couldn’t you find someone other than that pain in the ass with that attitude of his?”

“He isn’t that bad,” Adrien chuckled. “Felix is just a bit peculiar, but he means well.”

“Sure he does,” Plagg grumbled. “Don’t blame me when your Princess runs away from the Felix-you in terror.”

“Don’t worry,” Adrien smirked. “Marinette isn’t one to be pushed around. If anything, I should be concerned for myself and my rear.”

“Why Felix then?”

“I need a proven professional.” Adrien shrugged. “And for all his faults, Felix is great with making clothing. I know he has the skills for me to borrow. And”—Adrien raised his finger before Plagg could comment—“I need someone who doesn’t live in Paris. We can’t risk Marinette running into the person whose image I’m taking on and discovering anything we don’t want her to discover.”

Plagg puffed. “What if your dear Felix suddenly decides to visit? He does visit you pretty often.”

“I’ll know,” Adrien said. “Felix always tells me when he’s coming for a visit, so in case he does decide to show up, we’ll make sure he and Marinette don’t see each other.”

Plagg didn’t look convinced. “Sure, like anyone would ever believe that their boss’ nephew who lives in London would suddenly appear to play an assistant to a struggling designer. Marinette won’t suspect a thing.”

“I’m actually counting on that,” Adrien shrugged with a chuckle. “Now, are there any more questions or we are ready for a test run?”

“You aren’t listening to me anyway,” Plagg mumbled.

“I’m ready,” Nooroo bowed his head.

“Ready for what?” Duusu flew out of Adrien’s closet where he’d built a nest out of Adrien’s clothes for himself to sleep in. “Are we doing something exciting?”

It took a few minutes for the kwamis to get Duusu, who’d slept all through the night’s conversation, up to date. Adrien took that time to get food for the kwamis and papers that he needed for work in his bag. Once all explanations were done, the peacock kwami excitedly flipped in the air, ‘ready for an adventure’, as he’d described it. Prompted, Adrien stood up in the middle of the room and, once everyone got ready, called out, “Nooroo, Wings Rise.”

A pleasant tremor of electricity flowed over his body, transforming Adrien into a superhero he’d never imagined himself to become. A completely new suit wrapped around his body: deep purple dress pants, a matching vest, and a dress shirt of a similar hue but a lighter, almost white colour, a butterfly miraculous pinned at its mandarin-style collar. The matching purple mask covered his face as a cane appeared in front of Adrien, enticing him to reach forward and take it. He obliged, feeling a rush of power coursing through his veins as soon as his fingers wrapped around the cane. Not like Plagg’s, something different. More tender, fragile even. Inspiring.

He looked himself over. “Classy. I like it. If not for the mask and my lack of sewing abilities, I’d go to work like this.”

“Since when do you care about your looks?” Plagg remarked. “I thought you hated fashion?”

“Nothing’s wrong with appreciating a good outfit when I see one,” Adrien shrugged, trying to remember Nooroo’s instructions. With no pre-existing butterflies, Adrien had to conjure one himself. He closed his eyes and concentrated, lifting his hand to the miraculous on his chest. It slightly glowed and out of nowhere, a white butterfly appeared in Adrien’s palm. Adrien covered it with his other hand and focused on his desire to help Marinette. The butterfly glowed brighter as light energy enveloped it.

“Don’t fly too far away, my little akuma,” Adrien said, releasing the butterfly as he picked up Marinette’s picture. “I need your powers for my mission.”

The butterfly fluttered its wings and landed on the picture in Adrien’s hands. Light smog engulfed him, leaving a faceless shape of a human in his place. Adrien sucked in the air as an overwhelming desire suffocated him.

Help Marinette.

His breathing laboured, heart sprinting, Adrien smirked to himself, walking to his table. He picked up the photo of Felix he’d prepared ahead of time, immediately assuming the form of the man in it. Sleek hairstyle brushed to the side, a light grey dress shirt, black vest, black tie, a pair of matching dress pants and a serious expression on his face. There was no way Marinette would recognize Adrien despite the family resemblance being rather incredible.

Marinette.

The thought coursed through his mind, overtaking his every sense and pushing everything else aside.

Help Marinette.

He had to go and help her now.

He had to hurry.

She needed him.

Forgetting breakfast and his jacket, Adrien sprinted out of the door and headed towards Gabriel’s office as fast as he could. In record time, he’d reached the building, obsessed with one idea only.

Help Marinette.

Help Marinette whatever it took.

“Can I help you?” the object of his obsession stared at him as he froze at the door to her office.

There she was. He had to help her. She would accept his help. He’d do whatever it took and he’d do it with style just because Marinette was amazing and deserved the best helper around.

‘Felix’ straightened up. “Quite the opposite, Mademoiselle. It is I who would be helping you.” He stepped into the room and bowed low. “Your knight in shining armour has arrived.”

Marinette puffed, pressing her lips into a thin line, as she lowered her eyes back to the garments she was working on. “I don’t have time for your jokes, Adrien. Some of us need to work.”

‘Felix’ stilled. He knew that he and his cousin looked incredibly alike, but Marinette had met Felix. She should’ve seen the difference. First, their characters were polar opposites. Second, being raised and still living in London, Felix had always preferred a much classier way of dressing and styling his hair than the more liberal approach Adrien favoured. That set them apart quite distinctly. Or at least he thought so.

“My apologies…” ‘Felix’ started, his eyes catching his own reflection in a mirror behind Marinette. He froze, feeling like banging his head on a table because it wasn’t ‘Felix’ who looked at him back from the mirror. It was a man with a crooked tie, a few undone buttons at the top of his shirt, and dishevelled hair that resembled Chat Noir more than his cousin. He should have fixed those after running most of the way here if he wanted Marinette to take him for his cousin.

“Yes?” Marinette frowned.

‘Felix’ cleared his throat. “Accept my apologies for my appearance. It seems I was in so much of a rush to be by your side that I neglected the basics of grooming.” Walking up to the mirror, he fixed his clothes in place and used the comb in his pocket to brush his hair to the side, making him look more like Felix and less like Adrien with every stroke.

“Quit it, Adrien,” Marinette scoffed, not giving him another glance. “I’m busy.”

“I’m afraid you’re mistaken, Mademoiselle.” he turned her way “I do understand your confusion, though. My cousin and I look much too alike for my taste, but I’m no Adrien. My name is Felix. Felix Graham de Vanily.”

The confusion on Marinette’s face was fascinating to watch. “As in Gabriel Agreste’s nephew?”

“In the flesh.” ‘Felix’ nodded. “You’ve heard of me?”

She set down the garment in her hands. “We met back in the day, once or twice. And M Agreste mentioned you a few times. Mostly regretting that his son didn’t have a shred of your talent.”

‘Felix’ quirked an eyebrow, wanting to get angry, but the thought of helping Marinette pushed everything aside. She needed to accept his help. For that, he needed her to like him. He had to do whatever it took. Play along if he must. Don’t waste his energy on pointless anger at a person that was no more.

“Ah, my unfortunate, talentless cousin,” ‘Felix’ shrugged dramatically. “Such a blemish on our family name. Such a failure.”

Marinette frowned. “I’m not Adrien’s biggest fan, but aren’t you being a little harsh here? He is your family.”

Coming closer, ‘Felix’ leaned on Marinette’s desk. “I guess he does deserve a bit of my recognition if only for calling me to work with a beauty such as yourself, Mademoiselle.”

“Adrien called you? To work with me?”

He nodded. “Begged me on his knees. Said it was some kind of an emergency, and without me, my uncle’s whole legacy would vanish up in smoke. I couldn’t refuse him when he put it like that.”

“I wouldn’t say the whole company’s fate is at stake,” Marinette mumbled. “It’s more like just my career.”

“The same thing,” ‘Felix’ shrugged. “You are my uncle’s most promising protégé. We can’t afford for your career to die before it flowers, now can we? So, let’s skip the chit-chat and get to work. What do you want me to do?”

Marinette hesitated. “With all due respect, from what I’ve heard from M Agreste, I should be your assistant, not the other way around. Are you sure you want to help me instead of working on your own projects?”

‘Felix’ straightened up and walked to stand right in front of Marinette. Taking her hand, he pulled her up to stand before him. “How can I simply stay on the sidelines when such an incredible woman and a rare beauty like yourself needs a knight to save her?” A satisfied smirk on his lips, he brought her hand to his lips and placed a kiss on her knuckles. “There is nothing I desire more in this world right now than to help you, Mademoiselle, in whatever form or shape you need it.”

Marinette squeaked, her cheeks turning pink as she slowly pulled her hand away. “Let’s keep it professional, M Agr—”

“Felix,” he corrected. “Please, call me Felix. And absolutely. I’m pure professionalism, but pardon my English manners if they are too unfamiliar and make you uncomfortable. Cherishing a gorgeous woman is customary where I’m from.”

“Ah… alright…” Marinette looked around the studio. “Well, I do need help, so if you’re sure, I’d really appreciate it.”

“I’m positively certain.”

“What do you want to do then?”

‘Felix’ looked around, all the things in the room unexpectedly making sense, all the processes he saw in progress looking familiar, ideas already forming in his head as he glanced over the unfinished outfits hanging on mannequins. “I can do anything, so put me where you need me the most.”

She hummed, rummaging through her papers. “Then, let’s do this: I’ll give you one of the projects I haven’t started on yet, so you can make it from scratch. This way we won’t hinder each other.”

“Sounds good to me.” ‘Felix’ bowed his head, a satisfied smirk playing on his lips. He did it! He got her to accept him. Why were her cheeks covered with a pretty pink, though? ‘Felix’ had done nothing that warranted Marinette blushing over him. True, he paid her a few well-deserved compliments but that was common courtesy, wasn’t it? Or was she that unaccustomed to receiving a little attention?

A glint of mischief sparked in ‘Felix’s’ eyes. He had just found another aspect Marinette needed his help with—a boost of confidence. From now on, he’d make sure to shower her with compliments and attention whenever he could. Helping Marinette couldn’t be restricted to sewing only. He could do so much more. He would do so much more. He should start straight away. So, he leaned closer and purred into her ear.

“Your wish is my command, Mademoiselle. Just say the word and it shall be done.”

Next >

#miraculous ladybug #marichat #aged up adrienette #hawkmoth adrien #adrienette #the other you #marinette dupain cheng #ml fanfiction #ml fanfic #ml fanart #butterfly adrien #adrien agreste

45 notes · View notes

himbowelsh · 4 years

Note

Well now I need touch starved Liebgott something! I always imagined Webgott to work the other way around. Y'know Web being unused to hugs and Lieb having no sense of boundaries. But I'm really intrigued by a concept of switching it up.

hello i’m in tears bc this took so long to write, but... enjoy an extremely touch-hangry boi. be warned, for copious amounts of obscenely soft cuddling.

Long story short, it goes like this.

David’s just finished an article, two hours ahead of the frankly unreasonable deadline sent by his editor; he collapses on the couch, promptly kicks his sock-clad feet up on the coffee table, and slumps against Joe’s side.

Joe goes very still.

At first, David thinks it’s because of his feet. Joe can be weird about things like that; he values cleanliness, and “not acting like fuckin’ animals in the house, Jesus, Web”. All the things David was never allowed to do growing up in his family’s Manhattan penthouse --- like leave dishes out or discard his clothes in messy piles --- are exactly the sort of things that drive Joe insane. He kind of relishes doing them, just to see the twitch Joe gets by his eye, and for the way he grips his hips roughly when he growls at him to “quit leaving your shit everywhere”. David’s natural sloppiness leaves Joe needing an outlet for his frustration… and their shared bedroom is kept very clean. It works out great for both parties.

So, sure, it’s probably just the feet on the table… he thinks for a grand total of eight seconds, before looking up to catch Joe’s eye.

His boyfriend’s gaze has gone impossible soft. It takes David’s breath away, a little, because Joe isn’t like that as a rule. He’s sharp edges and broken glass, jagged teeth and bladed grins. He’s harsh as sandpaper and smooth as steel. He’s frustrating, and his gentle moments come and go like fickle summer storms.

To be fair, impromptu cuddling on the couch isn’t like them either… but David needs it tonight, and stepping outside the bounds of their normal relationship can’t be the worst crime in the world. He holds Joe’s gaze for a moment, questioning and careful… but, instead of pulling away, Joe just takes a moment before sighing. His arm wraps around David’s shoulders, pulling him close.

“Rough night, Web?” he asks, an undercurrent of implication in his voice. This ain’t like you. You alright?

“You have no idea.” David rests his stubbled cheek against Joe’s chest, sighing deeply as the tension slowly drains from his muscles. Joe is hesitant to react; his actions, even as he rubs up and down David’s shoulder, lack his usual fearlessness. Joe can grab his ass in the middle of a crowded bar, or ruffle his curls just to get on his nerves… but this casual intimacy is uncharted territory for him.

He needs a distraction from his own head. David’s got just the thing. “How would you,” he sighs, “like to hear about the plight of Heteractis anemone? Because I just wrote four thousand words on it.”

“Heter— huh.” Joe sighs into the crown of his head, ruffling his curls. “Pretty sure Guarnere caught that once.”

“Knowing him, he’s still got it,” David replies. When Joe laughs, it reverberates in his chest, a low rumble in David’s ear.

“Yeah, alright, Web. Tell me all ‘bout your anemoles.”

“Anemone.”

“Yeah, what’d I say?” Joe presses his grin into David’s hair. “Amenemes.”

“Anemo-- damn it,” he mutters, burying the words against his boyfriend’s chest. Joe laughs even harder… and, like it or not, the sound it a balm to David’s frayed nerves. Even better are the strong arms which wrap around him, fully encompassing his shoulders and pulling him against Joe’s body. It’s… more than he was anticipating, more than they probably need, but it feels nice, and he doesn’t want to pull away. David melts against him, curling his legs with Joe and letting himself drift off. Fingers card gently through his hair; his boyfriend’s warm breath caresses his temple… and being this close feels so good that he forgets to remember it isn’t ordinary at all.

If he looked up at that exact moment, he might have found Joe enjoying it even more than he was… but David, as usual, preferred to sail away.

-------------------------------------

That really should have been the end of it… but after their night of unexpected intimacy, it’s like a dam has broken.

Joe does it at unexpected moments. While David is flipping pancakes in the kitchen, he comes up behind him and wraps his arms around his waist, chin looping over his shoulder. They just sort of… stay there. David is so surprised that he ends up charring the pancake, which Joe eats anyways, because he’d inhale charcoal if he was hungry enough… but while his boyfriend is wolfing blackened pancake lumps down his throat, no explanation is offered. David doesn’t know how to ask.

He’s brushing his teeth; Joe comes up behind him and holds his hips, just staying there for a few minutes. He’s reading a book in bed; Joe lies down, curling into his side like an automatic reflex. They’re watching whatever B-rated action flick Joe just insisted on going to see at the Cineplex, and Joe holds his hand the entire time.

Calling it strange is an understatement. It’s fucking bizarre.

Which isn’t to say Joe’s been shy about physical contact before, because he hasn’t. He’s just always been measured with it. Joe doesn’t hold back from touching people, grasping their shoulders or clapping them on the back… but he never goes overboard with it. His touches don’t linger. He’s a handsy person by nature, but David never considered before that he weighs every touch before giving them out.

If that’s the case, what’s changed? Why has he suddenly become so free — even apparently craving — touches he’s never asked for before?

David doesn’t know much about the scientific method, but any good journalist can test a hypothesis as well as a lab tech. Early one night, before either of them have gone to bed, he sits down next to Joe on the couch and sets the remote in his boyfriend’s lap.

“Anything but reality TV,” is all he says, and Joe smirks as he turns the station to some late night show.

He’s paying attention; David is not. Instead, his attention is fixed firmly on Joe, not even trying to hide it. The curve of his profile, the shadows along his neck and collar, the way he always lounges when he sits… like he’s trying to take up as much space as possible. Something about him seems inexplicably, undeniably lonely.

David leans over and wraps an arm around Joe’s shoulders. The reaction is expected; Joe goes tense, like he’s trying to figure out what the hell is going on. David counts back in his head: ten… nine… eight… seven…

Before he gets to five, Joe’s relaxed into him. Easy as that — it’s like teaching a puppy to eat food, or a baby to cry. Joe and touch go together like authors and caffeine. Touching is easy for him, but being touched is the most natural thing in the world.

A flame kindles to life within David’s chest, and soon it’s warming him from the inside out. He can’t keep a fond smile from his lips. After a moment, his hand strays up to Joe’s hair, threading gently through the well-maintained strands. Joe’s always had a weakness for having his hair touched, and tonight is no exception. He makes a tiny, content noise and leans into David, the tension slowly draining from his body. It doesn’t take long before he’s leaning against him, head balanced against David’s chest. Arms still around him, David holds Joe tenderly, caressing his hair while occasionally pressing kisses to the crown of his head. Joe’s heartbeat is steady, his muscles lax. David charts the gentle rhythm of his breathing until he’s sure his boyfriend has dropped off to sleep.

When he looks down, a wave of tenderness washes over him. Joe Liebgott with every guard down is a thing to see. He so rarely looks peaceful. There’s something restless about Joe, a relentless hunger thrumming just beneath his skin, determined to break free. He’s always had an edge of urgency to him… but now, dozing against David’s chest, he looks without a care in the world.

He ought to be this way all the time. He deserves to be happy all the time. God help him, if David has any say in it, Joe will be.

“Is it my birthday or something?” Joe asks, when David, completely unprompted, begins massaging his shoulders. “Shit, don’t tell me I’m another year older and just forgot.”

“Not for another few months, old man,” David replies. On reflex, Joe tries to twist and grab him, but David’s massage doesn’t let up; after a minute, he relaxes into it, slumping further back against David’s chest.

“You been acting weird lately,” Joe declares — as though David needs to be good, and as though he wasn’t the one acting weird to begin with. “Everything fine at work? You didn’t… gamble away our savings to the mafia, or promise Sobel our firstborn kid or something? If you got news for me, Web, I can take it without a bonus massage.”

“Why do you think — wait, we’re going to have kids?”

“Head in the game, Web. What’s going on?”

At once, he’s glad Joe is facing the other way, because David’s not sure what he could say otherwise. He frowns at Joe’s back muscles, kneading into them with a bit more force than necessary. Sure, he’s been… more physically affectionate these days. Joe no longer has to seek it out, because he gives it willingly… and even if touch doesn’t come naturally to David, the obvious way Joe eats it up when his touches linger in public or they draw close to each other in private makes it all worthwhile. Joe seems happier nowadays, so clearly it’s working fine.

Why’s he getting interrogated now?

“Am I not allowed to touch you?” he asks. “Just because I want to touch?”

“You ain’t a touchy-feely person. Never have been.”

“People change.”

“Not you.” Joe’s observation is too neutral for David to justify flaring up at it. “Come on, Web. What’s going on?”

He’s silent for a long moment before summoning a reply. “I want you to be happy,” he declares, finishing off Joe’s back massage with a caress of his neck. “I want you… to feel loved.”

Joe is silent for a beat before turning his head to look back at him. “That’s all, huh?”

“Yeah,” David huffs. “That’s all.”

It’s hard to make out Joe’s expression when one half of his face is cast into shadow, but David spots the amusement in his eyes… and something else, too, something softer that he can’t put his finger on. It sparks a familiar warmth in his chest, and he smiles.

“Well, don’t stop on my account,” Joe sighs. There’s no warning before he’s leaning back against David’s chest, but David’s ready this time. He opens his arms, embracing him as they go. Slowly, Joe relaxes into the comfort of his touch, and the world feels a little warmer.

#webgott #david webster #joe liebgott #joseph liebgott #my writing #Anonymous

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raevenswritingdesk · 4 years

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Hear me out; Janus snapping at Roman for his mocking of his name was completely justified and he had every right to do so.

Yes, what Janus said was rude aswell and clearly hurt Roman a lot, but it was in response to what Roman said to him first; Janus’s anger towards Romans comment was just as justified as Romans distress at Janus’s.

The two of them were both in the wrong here in their own ways; after all it does take two to argue, but you can’t just blame one or the other in the scenario. Roman hurt Janus when he put a lot of trust into telling him his name and yes it can be argued that Janus may have went a bit too far with his Remus comment towards Roman when he knows it’s a touchy subject but it was a knee jerk reaction out of anger for being mocked for his name just like what happened when Virgil revealed his name and Roman mocked him for that too.

Romans problem is that he sees things simply as good and bad, black and white; literally so with “the prince and the duke wearing the black and the white”

He sees the “dark sides” as bad and himself and the “light sides” as good. Simple as that. He refuses to see the so called dark sides as good in any way and point blank doesn’t trust them. He’s accepted Virgil sure, but that took a long time and even so it is stil depicted as being hard for him at times.

He’s so set on this image of himself as the Disney prince and them as the Disney villains that the minute someone points out for example that “the prince killed the dragon when all she was trying to do was protect her home” or how “maybe the only difference between heroes and villains is who’s side of the story you are seeing” he shuts them down immediately. How he believes “no. The heroes are good, the villains are bad. That’s it”

He sees Remus as his evil twin and has openly referred to both Janus and Virgil as the “bad guy” before. Not to mention he was the one to initially come up with the name “the dark sides” for the others. He was literally the one to label them as bad and himself Logan and Patton as good, because that’s what he believed.

In the last couple of videos the main focus has literally been showing how they, “the dark sides” aren’t as bad as you think they are, and how the “light sides” aren’t as good as they think they are either.

Anxiety isn’t bad; he was just trying to keep Thomas safe. He himself feels anxious and scared more easily than the others as he is literally anxiety and can go a bit overboard appearing rude or paranoid. He can be overpowering and distressing at times for everyone, but he doesn’t mean to be and has even been show to try and hide when he is feeling stressed from the others to not worry them aswell. He tries his best to not bring the group down too much even though it’s hard for him and really cares for the others even if he doesn’t always show it.

Intrusive thoughts aren’t bad; they don’t make you a bad person for experiencing them, and they are nothing more than mere thoughts your brain has and are completely healthy. Intrussiveness doesn’t mean any harm, he is just as impulsive as Roman is with ideas and behaviour, even if his are a lot more “dark” than that of his brothers. He can’t control what he says at times and just speaks his mind without thinking. He never says any of it with bad intention though, and appears to just want to have fun rather than actually hurting the others like he sometimes does unintentionally.

Deceit isn’t bad; he just does what he believes is best for Thomas. He may be seen as the villain as he is the patron of lies in the group but as it was covered, lying can be good and it’s alright to be a little selfish sometimes. He cares for Thomas’s mental health and wellbeing and doesn’t want him getting harmed if it means helping others. He believes that it’s okay to put yourself first before others at times and that is completely valid. Some small white lies at times are good, and in the recent video he has even shown that he himself knows when not to lie and be open with others, speaking genuinely to Patton and taking off his glove to prove he was telling the truth when he then told them his real name.

The same goes for the others.

Morality can be bad; it’s his literal job to be the distinguishing factor of right and wrong decisions meaning sometimes the decisions he makes aren’t inherently “good” or “bad” they are just the ones he sees as the best choice in the situation, and it has been clearly shown in the most recent video that it doesn’t always work out for the best and he can often hurt himself and Thomas whilst trying to avoid hurting others. He can be so obsessed with doing the right thing that he often neglects Thomas’s mental state in order to care for that of another’s and continuously suggests unhealthy repression in the name of helping others, even if unintentionally.

Logic can be bad; he can often cloud the judgement and freedom one needs and make one focus more on “logic” than passion. Being the embodiment of logic he can often be overbearing and demanding that others agree with him, when he isn’t the only voice at the table and should allow others to have input on the decision making aswell. He can be aggressive and demanding and doesn’t understand emotions so he can be extremely cold and uncaring at times without thinking about what damage his words can have on others, literally being the brain to morality’s heart and the restraint to creativities freedom causing the so called “light sides” to constantly fight.

Creativity can be bad; he can be loud and obsessive and controlling over scenarios at hand and focuses too hard on the stereotypes of what’s good or evil to the point that he puts others down without giving them a chance. He often forces others to do what he wants to do rather than giving them a choice and is incredibly impulsive and gets upset when things don’t go his way, obsessed with the idea of being the hero and the star of the show that the minute anyone else is in the spot light he shuts them down. He is extremely egotistical and full of pride and sees himself as never doing anything wrong ever.

Both Logan and Patton have been shown to accept the “dark sides” even if they do disagree with them at times. Patton and Logan in the recent video accepted Janus and agreed with what he had to say, and whilst we didn’t see Logan’s reaction to his name reveal we saw that Patton did by no means react like Roman did and was quite shocked at Janus’s openness and trust with them. Whilst Patton was scared of Remus at first come the end of the video they were all on neutral terms per say, with Logan stepping in and explaining to everyone how Remus’s ideas were just that; ideas, and how it was okay for Thomas and him to think those things at times. And it’s self explanatory how Patton and Logan were easily accepting of Virgil, taking his opinion into count and treating him fairly. Yes Patton can be the overbearing parent sort at times but it’s easy to see that he does mean well, he can just be a bit “much”.

Roman on the other hand was literally stated and called out by the others to have been the last to accept Virgil, and this doesn’t change when it comes to Remus and Janus. To him, he is the good guy and they are the bad. Patton and Logan have both admitted they have been in the wrong before and have addressed their behaviour to help work with the others; Roman has not.He sees Janus as the deceiving plotting snake and Remus as the Intrusive evil twin and that’s it.

In order for Roman to accept that the others are “good” he has to first accept that he himself is somewhat “bad” and I am fully on board with the angst that may follow with this idea.

After all, as pointed out by @cinnamonrollorder the remaining “dark side” character slot on the new videos thumbnail looks a lot like a certain prince of ours...

tl;dr - what Janus said to Roman was a valid response. Roman was and is still rude to the “dark sides”. The dark sides aren’t as “bad” as you would think they are, and the light sides are not as “good” as you would think they are. Roman has a problem with continuously insisting they are evil when they are all equal parts of Thomas and deserve to be treated as such. Logan and Patton have even had their moments of agreeing and understanding them, but Roman is still distant. Only way he can accept they are somewhat good is if he accepts that he is somewhat bad. Also his silhouette fits perfectly in the extra character slot in the new thumbnail...

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