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snippychicke · 2 years

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For the Sake of a Smile --Ch. 10/Short

Peeps, I have a migraine, but I really want to post this you guys as I do every Saturday. So, I'm not putting the energy into doing my usual formatting, but I promise the chapter is just a great as always. (I wrote it long before the migraine hit this morning, and @avellanas-nutty-empire edits make it 10x better)

So, without further delay, Chapter 10 and Short 10; all in one post!

(Will be posted to AO3 later; I don't have the focus to work on the html tags for all the italics)

Professor Dantlion looked like an average demon; cheerful, friendly, plain brown hair and eyes, and seemed approachable enough - if it wasn't for the fact he was the teacher's supervisor and had a dark aura just…hanging around him.

Or maybe that was your own paranoia.

"I had a meeting with Lord Sullivan," He started after formalities. "And it seems you were never actually initiated as Babyls Faculty."

You blinked, confused. Sullivan hadn't mentioned anything about being 'initated' when he announced he found a job for you. What did that even entail?

"Oh, don't worry!" He tried to reassure, seeing your face pale. "We're not as archaic as Jackapo's initiations. No blood rituals or life-or-death fights."

"Oh, okay," You squeaked. Your thoughts hadn't even drifted towards it being that dark or gruesome.

"I know you're not technically a teacher, but Lord Sullivan asked for me to be your supervisor, so we'll be taking you out to the Brawl Inn tonight."

"Wait, what?"

----

"It'll be fun, sweetheart," Sullivan tried to reassure you when you ran to his office after Dali left the library.

You however, were not reassured. You continued to pace the span of his office.

"Fun? I-I’ve never had fun at any after work gathering in my life. All my coworkers are demons while I am human, or have you forgotten?! Then you add alcohol into the mix which only spells certain disaster! I still can't remember much from that one drink at Walter Park! And that was one! With just Balam and Kalego! God, what if Raim and Momonoki finally corner me for girl talk?"

"There's no need for such language," Sullivan chimed, sounding vaguely disapproving - though you didn't really hear him.

"What if my drunk ass admits everything? Can you imagine how bad that could end; not just about me and Balam, I mean everything, dad! The fact I'm human, or that Iruma's human! It could not only end with my death, but his too, and--"

Sullivan stopped your frantic pacing with a gentle hand on your shoulder, his dark eyes meeting yours from behind his glasses.

"Nothing is going to happen, my dear. You'll be safe. I not only trust you, but the other staff as well. You'll see how devoted the teachers are, and the fact that Dali accepted you as one of his own proves that he believes you are worth this honor."

You took a few deep breaths; hoping, wishing what he said was true. Sullivan knew them best, he knew what was at stake. You could trust him on this at least, right?

"And I just love it when you call me dad!" Sullivan broke the moment as he quickly pulled you into a hug with a happy squeal. "You really do see me as your father, just like Iruma sees me as his grandfather! Oh, I'm just so happy!"

"Really?" You half-heartedly complained at the sudden change of topic as well as mood, though you didn't fight the embrace. Sullivan's open paternal affection would always be something you secretly cherished.

And maybe a change is what you needed.

"Absolutely, my sweet little princess! You two mean so much to me! And I would never, ever, put you in a situation you couldn't handle."

With a groan, you wrapped your arms around his slender frame and allowed yourself to relax and accept the comfort he offered. Because considering how much he fussed over Iruma, and in a way yourself as well, you had to admit you had to believe him. Which meant you weren't getting out of the initiation, no matter how nervous you were.

But, if other teachers were going to be there… would Balam be there too? You knew he would protect you, but you also worried about everything else that came with being around him.

----

"Kalego!"

The demon in question looked up from his book to Balam, who looked as excited as he sounded. Which - considering the giant demon had been distracted from his grading by his phone, Kalego presumed it was something you had done or said; per the norm, nowadays.

"Hmm?" Kalego grunted in acknowledgement as he continued his work. Spending the evening with Balam holed up in the Prep room sounded much more appealing than attending the teachers' celebration for another successful Harvest Festival. Calming instrumental music was drifting from the radio, and he had found a rather interesting blend of wine to sip on after sharing a decent meal with one of the few people in the Netherworld that didn't annoy him.

Even if Balam's interest was focused on you to the point Kalego doubted the other demon realized how much his time was spent either talking to, or about you. But he was such a love-sick hellhound that even Kalego couldn't be annoyed by his antics. It was as adorable as it was pitiful, even to him.

And to be completely fair, he did enjoy seeing his comrade happy. You were rather close to being added to the short list of people Kalego could tolerate after work too.

As soon as he figured out the conundrum that surrounded you and your son.

"Dali is going to be her supervisor," Balam explained, furiously typing on the small keyboard of his phone. "And he plans on formally initiating her into her role as Librarian tonight."

That caught Kalego's full attention. Not only did Sullivan relinquish that kind of authority over his daughter, but also allowed Dali to oversee your rite? That was a surprising turn of events. He had figured the chairdemon would have insisted on having that privilege for himself. But…

"Tonight?" Kalego asked with a frown. "Aren't the other teachers celebrating the end of the Harvest Festival?"

Balam's excitement faded, and Kalego could almost see the forlorn expression behind his mask as Balam's broad shoulders slumped. "I know you didn't want to go, but…"

No, he hadn't. Kalego hated social events with a passion. And Balam had reluctantly decided to stay with him versus attending the event, mainly because of his own social awkwardness. But now that Balam knew you would be there, and the fact it would also be your initiation rite…

The taller demon gave Kalego a pleading look, silently begging for him to change his mind. Kalego cursed internally. Devi, he didn't have a choice at this point.

"I suppose we should go then," He conceded with an aggrieved sigh. "Even if just to protect your future intended from the rest of the faculty."

The tease caused Balam to blush heavily, far too flustered to even stammer a defense. What Balam saw in you, Kalego couldn't understand himself. But the fact he was interested in you, inherently meant to Kalego you were worth protecting - if even just for Balam's sake.

Why the demon couldn't find someone who could protect themself was beyond him. And why you were so weak compared to your father and son, Kalego was determined to figure out.

-----

Brawl Inn was a small building in the wasteland not far from the town of Babyls. You dismounted Podargos, giving the nightmare a loving pat on the muzzle before tying her to the fence where there was fresh water and feed (fresh ground meat and other things you did not wish to think about) already set out by the Inn staff.

Sullivan assured you no matter what state you were in later, Podargos would get you home. And you had to believe him, she always seemed gentle and sure of herself. She was the first you had ridden, and never needed any correction as soon as you told her 'home.'

Still, your nerves twisted your stomach as you stood outside - trying to psych yourself up.

This wasn't going to be like back in the human realm. Your demonic coworkers were far better than your human ones had been. Oddly enough, they weren't as vicious or cutthroat, or prone to backstabbing. You vaguely remembered Kalego's comment that forcing others to drink was against their rules.

You didn't know if that meant subtle challenges as well or not, but it was still reassuring.

Yet here you were, unable to open the door and enter. You could hear boisterous talking and laughter coming from inside.

Was Balam already here? He said he could have escorted you, but admitted he also had to convince Kalego to attend, so you had reassured him you could manage. You imagined he was going to have a hard enough time with Kalego.

The sound of flapping wings caught your attention, and you looked up in time to see Kalego and Balam arrive. Seeing a demon's wings was always a shock, considering most of the time they were hidden, and you couldn't resist a moment to study the two's own pair. Kalego's was dark and glossy skin, large yet lithe. They were a pair from a typical legend, whereas Balam's…

Were dark green feathers, with a span that was nearly as long as he was tall. You knew you had seen them before in the chaos of Walter park, but you hadn't been able to appreciate them.

Granted, you couldn't exactly appreciate them now either; because as soon as the two landed, their wings folded back into virtual non-existence.

"You weren't waiting for us, were you?" Balam asked after greeting you cheerfully by name.

"No, I, um, just got here," You explained awkwardly. It wasn't quite a lie, you hoped only a few minutes had passed while you were having a moment.

"Let's get this over with," Kalego sighed, pushing past you towards the door. Balam's arm wrapped around your mid back, providing warmth and safety that you had unknowingly needed. The confidence you needed to face the rest of the staff seemed to flow from him into you.

If he was here, you knew you would be safe.

Inside the bar was dark with just a few candles lit to offer a trace amount of light. You pressed closer to Balam's arm - some instinctual part of you terrified as a robed figure stepped out of the shadows and held out a hand towards you. "Welcome, you who strive to fill the role of the Librarian of Babyls…"

"Must you really be so dramatic?" Kalego growled, interrupting the deep voice. "Seriously, Dali, she's already worked in the library for a few months."

There was a pout on Dali's face as he pulled back his hood. "It's tradition, Kalego. I thought you of all demons would respect that."

"There's hardly a need for theatrics with this one," Kalego shot back, gesturing sharply to you. "At this point it's a mere formality."

"You're just jealous you didn't get the role to scare her." Robin stepped out of the gloom, pointing an accusing finger at Kalego. "Or you would have jumped at the chance!"

Kalego huffed and crossed his arms. "Don't be ridiculous."

Someone grumbled about the effect being ruined, and with a snap the lights flared to life. More of the teachers lowered their hoods and chimed their own thoughts of how things should have went.

"Are they always like this?" You whispered as the argument--bickering, really-- continued.

"Well, not usually…" Balam admitted quietly. "But typically one is initiated when they first start. You're a bit of a special case."

"Can we just hurry up and get this over with?" Elder Morax complained rather loudly. "I thought the main event tonight would be celebrating!"

Dali sighed, conceding he had lost. "Very well. Please, step forward." He gestured to you, and Balam's protective touch became a gentle nudge forward.

You hesitantly stepped towards Dali and a dark crimson circle flared to life with dark symbols carving themselves into the stone floor. The magic was near palpable, making the hair at the nape of your neck raise as your heart quickened.

"The teacher of Babyls is a sacred role," Dali started, his usual demeanor shifting into one far more serious. "As is the role of Librarian. To guide and guard the treasure of Babyls, its students, is the highest honor. Do you pledge your life to protect them above all else from the enemies that may target our treasure?"

This wasn't some meaningless pledge. You could feel the magic waiting for your answer, to make sure that you held true to it if you swore. Not just Iruma and his classmates, but all the students.

It made you hesitate and think - was this really what you wanted to do? You highly doubted you could just up and quit after an oath like this.

Hell, it was better than the fishery. And you had to admit; while the Misfit class held a special place in your heart, you were fond of all the students. Being a librarian at Babyls? There could be worse fates.

"I swear," You answered, meeting Dali's eyes firmly, and instantly felt the magic snap into place. The odd sensation took your breath away as the symbols flared a fiery red beneath you. There was a strange notion that maybe you hadn't sold your soul to Sullivan after all…

But instead hd just signed it over to Babyls.

A thunderous applause broke out from the surrounding teachers as the circle faded into nothing, and before you could blink, Balam had swung you off your feet, lifting you until you were sitting on his shoulders. You clutched to him, stunned by the sudden change as you looked down at everyone.

Smiling. Cheering. Even Kalego had a faint smile on his face.

You knew you had made the right choice.

----

You may have had limited experience with human coworkers, but your demon peers were nothing like the human counterparts. Where you had been defensive around your previous coworkers, feeling as if you had to constantly prove yourself and be on guard, here you didn't.

They easily accepted the fact you didn't want any alcohol, and in fact had many recommendations on non-alcoholic drinks instead. Despite being new and a bit of an outsider, you didn't feel excluded.

Actually, quite the opposite. In a blur of events, you had been dragged from Balam's side to a seperate table across the large room, where most of the female teachers had gathered. Not just Raim and Momonoki; but Suzy, Furcus, and Tsumuru too.

"We actually have a full table now!" Tsumuru cheered, being echoed by the others.

"I have to admit, I do love what you've done with the library," Furcus admitted, the older woman smiling softly at you, looking rather tired. "Through the years, no one's really paid much attention to the organization of it."

"A lot of the students have enjoyed the new study spaces," Tsumuru added, making you flush from the attention. "I've even seen an increase in grades, which I can't contribute to anything else but the library's renovation. I was so excited when Dali said you were being initiated! I can only imagine how you'll help in the future!"

"Those cubbies also make for good make-out spots," Raim added with a wink, making you flush even more. "Or have you and Balam found that out already?"

"W-we aren't courting, despite what the rumors say," You stated with a bit of a stammer, deciding there was no way to avoid the topic - so you were going to face it head on. With blunt honesty.

"What?!"

It wasn't just Raim and Momonoki giving you incredulous looks as you had expected - it was all of them. Even perpetually calm Suzy and Furcus looked surprised.

"No, that's just not possible!" Momonoki protested. "J-just look at you two! It's obvious!"

"It's more obvious than her crush on Kalego," Suzy chimed, gesturing to the blue-haired teacher who blushed yet nodded in agreement.

"Exactly! How are you two not courting?"

You rubbed your face, willing the burning sensation to fade from your face. "Look, it's… it's like this. We fell into an easy friendship--camaraderie," You corrected, seeing their odd looks, "...because of mutual interests. And his skinship is a perfect match for my own…issues. But that isn't to say we're romantically interested in each other."

Raim frowned and leaned on the table, "I am a succubus, remember? I can literally taste the attraction between you, so don't give me that devibullshit."

Wait. Could Succubi do that?

The others were nodding, so you had to assume they could, and that Raim wasn't lying.

"I mean, I-I am kinda… interested… in him…" You admitted, casting a glance to the table across the room where the other staff were. They were by far louder, so you doubted that anyone else could overhear the infamous Girl Talk you had been dreading.

Yet almost sensing you were looking at him, Balam shifted to look at you - head tilted to express his concern. You smiled slightly and gave a small wave, letting him know you were fine.

Even if you were internally dying of embarrassment.

The corners of his eyes crinkled as he smiled and returned your small wave before his attention was caught by Robin invading Kalego's space once more.

"Are you telling me - that you two are mutually interested in each other, but not courting?!" Raim virtually seethed. "Have you even said anything?!"

You blinked, startled by the severe expression on her face. You had no idea she - or the others - had been so invested in the relationship between you and Balam.

"I haven't done this before, okay?!" You shot back after a moment, put on the defensive by her tone. "This is unfamiliar territory for me!"

"But, Iruma is your son," Furcus added, a frown gracing her face. "You can't have children without mating."

"T-that, was…" You trailed off, fear flooding through your mind as you worried about being caught in your lie. You had built a backstory, but hadn't quite explained it to Iruma - and you weren't sure what he had said about the matter. What if he had said something that would contradict you? What if it planted seeds of doubt in their minds?

Devi, if only adoptions were normal in the Netherworld. But you had seen it yourself at Walter Park; most demons were demonish in that aspect.

"Is the rumor of his father true?" Tsumuru asked as your pause became stagnant. "He's really not present?"

"It was one of those… unintended things," You awkwardly excused, not completely sure how deep a hole you were digging yourself. But surely demons had one-night stands? And maybe decided to keep any child conceived afterwards?

"I've had plenty of those," Raim sighed dreamily, destroying any doubt. "Though, you know there are plenty of… remedies for afterwards."

You shrugged your shoulders, "Yeah, but… Iruma's one of the best things in my life so I don't regret anything."

"While that is adorable," Momonoki interjected. "Our main concern should be that our dear librarian hasn't courted before, and we all know Balam hasn't either. They're both helpless! We need to help them!"

Raim hummed, "You just want a real-life romance novel to play out before your eyes, don't you?"

The other demon turned a bright shade of pink.

"That is totally besides the point!"

"You guys," You whined. "It really isn't that big of a deal. Balam and I…we'll figure it out."

Suzy patted your hand reassuringly. "I'm sure you will. But if you ever need some advice, feel free to ask. I courted many a demon back in my day before deciding to pledge my life to Babyls."

Raim nodded, "Absolutely. I would be happy in giving you a few pointers and tips on seduction. Together, we could have that giant of a demon wrapped around your finger." She smirked while twirling her own hair around her graceful fingers, making you blush deeper.

Furcus snorted, "You say that as if he isn't already."

Tsumuru nodded, "You don't have to be a master at psychiatry like myself to know he has it bad."

"And," Raim continued in a staged whisper, leaning over the table closer to you. "Once he's wrapped around your finger, you can finally wrap yourself around--"

---

The evening became livelier as Robin and Dali pulled out games like Bingo and Charades, along with some Netherworld games you had no name for but ended up laughing until your ribs hurt.

Partly just because of the anitics of the others as they drank more and more while you stayed sober. But, you had a feeling you would have ended up having a good time regardless. It truly was nothing like your previous experiences; you were thoroughly enjoying yourself.

To probably no one's surprise, you ended up once more next to Balam; and all too aware of the 'supportive' gestures from your female colleagues, ranging from subtle thumbs up and winks to awkward gestures that you had no idea what they meant - but seemed vulgar anyways.

You could only pray Balam hadn't noticed them or the fact you would suddenly pull his attention elsewhere in an attempt to keep him from noticing. If he had, he kept silent and just rolled with your antics while helping you with the games you were unfamiliar with.

While also more or less compelling Kalego to participate as well, which made you giggle as the other demon grumbled half-heartedly. Having fun and being happy filled you with a sort of boldness, leading you to tease Kalego.

Kalego would take it in stride and subtly return the teasing with light-hearted taunts. Which - judging by Balam's excited reactions as the two of you bantered back and forth - meant Kalego had officially accepted you into the fold.

"Is it really okay to leave Robin with everyone?" You asked hours later as you left with Balam and Kalego. At least half a dozen of the other teachers were passed out inside the inn, and you felt guilty at Kalego's offhand comment about it being the newbie’s responsibility to get them all home.

"He arranged it and allowed Dali to partake as well," Kalego replied with a snort. "He needs to take responsibility for his actions."

"Considering most of them live in the teachers' dorms, he won't have that much difficulty," Balam assured, his hand combing through your hair thoughtlessly. "Are you okay with returning home?"

The nightmare in question - still patiently waiting at her post - snorted and pawed a hoof as if insulted by Balam's implication.

"Podargos will make sure I get home safe and sound," You said, giving him a reassuring smile. "Dad and Opera trained her well."

Yet despite the reassurance, Balam seemed reluctant to let you go. His hand brushed your cheek softly as he held your gaze. Was his thoughts wandering the same path yours now wandered, thinking of the possibility of a romantic relationship. Or had the wine he and Kalego been sharing still affecting him?

(Granted, for as much as they both drank, you were surprised they were seemingly unaffected.)

Everyone seemed so sure that Balam held such romantic feelings for you that it filled you with hope - but at the same time, you were still so lost on what to do next. Was it unfair of you to wait for him to make that next move, or was he waiting for you?

Devi, he'd probably end up waiting forever if he was. You don't know if you possessed the boldness to take that next step without his lead.

"Shichiro," Kalego called, interrupting the moment. "Shall I leave you two alone? I would like to be home before dawn."

"Still feeling that last glass, Kalego?" You couldn't help but tease despite the warmth spreading across your cheeks and his implication. Or, at least the one your mind readily supplied.

His eyes narrowed slightly, though you hoped it was in good humor. "I applaud the fact you restrained yourself from drinking all night. I hate to see what the school would be like if everyone witnessed you crawling into Shichiro’s lap to sleep."

"You two…" Balam sighed as you seethed in embarrassment as the dark-haired demon smirked.

Fine, two could play at that game. "Well," you drawled as you turned back to Balam. "Since Kalego apparently needs help finding his way home--"

"I do not--" Kalego hissed, though your attention was once more captured by Balam as you reached up and patted Balam's cheek without thinking.

The giant demon quickly bent down so you could reach easier, and - well, the temptation to run your fingers through his hair was too much for you to resist.

"I'll talk to you later, okay?" You finished softly as your heart thumped in your chest. Just a few small strokes and Balam's eyes had fluttered shut as he leaned more into your touch. He looked so happy, so content, so utterly cute, you gave into impulse and leaned in closer to press a quick kiss to his cheek.

"Goodnight, Shichiro." You whispered as you pulled away before nodding at the other demon. "Kalego."

Kalego returned your nod, but you didn't dare look back at Balam to see his reaction. You instead turned to Podargos, somehow managing to undo the knot keeping her tethered with shaky hands before pulling yourself up in the saddle.

She was already galloping when you heard the flutter of wings unfurling and the two presumably taking their leave as well. You gripped the reins tightly, grinning to yourself as the wind whipped around you. You did it! You initiated affection with Balam, and now all you could do was pray it hadn't been too subtle of a hint. Because damn, your heart was hammering heavily enough as it was.

Short Ten

Silence hung over the two demons as they flew, though Kalego knew it wouldn't last for very long. Before they reached the first trees of the forest, Balam finally broke the silence with a whisper "She kissed me…"

Kalego sighed, "I saw." He was happy for him, truly was. But why did you have to finally end Shichiro's doubts tonight? He was already mentally worn out from a long week, plus the hours of forced social interaction.

He wanted to go home, have a long hot shower, and sleep. That is all he wanted at this point.

"And called me Shichiro!" Balam's awed whisper turned into giddiness, and Kalego could easily imagine his companion blushing furiously despite the sky dark, moons barely providing any light. There were only two demons (himself and Opera, of course) outside his family that called Balam by his given name. Everyone else was too terrified of the gentle giant to take such liberties.

"I was there for that as well," unfortunately, Kalego added mentally. He was actually surprised it took you this long, to be honest. After all, you had the whole Misfit class calling you mom now - if rumors proved correct. He had figured you had been using Shichiro in private for weeks now.

Apparently not.

A flap of feathered wings and Balam was gliding next to Kalego, the tips of his wings about brushing his. "Thank you, Kalego, for changing your mind."

Part of his aggravation faded away, and Kalego nodded slightly. "It wasn't too terrible, I suppose." The finest wine money could buy, all from the Chair demon's own account. The food was surprisingly decent for a dive bar, and there had been a few amusing moments.

The moment of peace shortly faded as Balam all but giggled. "I can't believe she actually kissed me!"

Kalego decided he should have taken a bottle of wine home with him after all.

Hell, if he was going to endure this… "So, what are you going to give her as an offering when you ask her to court?"

There was a flutter of wings as Balam faltered mid air with a choked noise, making Kalego smirk.

-----

Opera calmly poured Lord Sullivan's tea, though their mind was full of unrest. You and Iruma had become close, and they acknowledged both of you as members of the Sullivan family, and therefore under their protection.

"Not to question your decision..." Opera started as they finished. "But is it wise to have her sworn in as a Babyls teacher?" A human under the Oath of Babyls? Old, ancient magic that bound a teacher to the school and their duties - how would it react to a human? Would it be the same, or cause you to suffer?

"You said it yourself," Lord Sullivan stated calmly as he picked up his tea cup. "Evil is stirring, even here at Babyls. Iruma will be well protected between his ring and his classmates, though I plan to ask Barbatos Bachinko to continue to tutor him. However, my dear daughter does not have his power or allies. Even if she becomes Balam's intended, the Oath will force him to put the students before her. But, if she is sworn in as a sort-of teacher…"

"Then the others will see her as one of them, even if her identity is revealed," Opera finished as they realized Sullivan's true intent. "They will be more inclined to protect her as well."

Sullivan nodded before smiling, "Plus, she really is as antisocial as Kalego. She could stand to use a few more-- what do they call them? Friends? Humans are social creatures after all…"

#welcome to demon school iruma kun #mairimashita! iruma kun #balam x reader #balam shichiro #kalego naberious #suzuki iruma #lord sullivan #opera

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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 4 years

Note

I'm curious can I ask for head cannons on how azul, jade and floyd might react if they came home to their kids having paint all over them? (Like those funny toddler videos where the parents are trying not to laugh at all the paint or food all over there kids?)

I don’t watch those kinds of videos, but I’m sure I could whip some fun headcanons up for you, Anon!

Curiouser and Curiouser...

Azul looks absolutely mortified. Not only are his kids covered in paint (at least that can be washed away easily), but so is the fine furniture and wallpaper that he had spent hours picking out and designing.

If they have gotten black paint all over the place, Azul might start feeling a little faint in the knees. Since he’s an octopus merman, to him it almost looks like the scene of a gruesome murder, with the contents of a pierced ink sack strewn about.

He’s quick to pull his children aside and lightly scold them. “I’m not mad,” (okay, maybe he is a little) Azul insists, “I’m just disappointed. You are old enough to know better—and I believe I taught you to behave better than this. ‘A clean space means a clean mind’... An organized living space lends itself to focus and concentration, and this mess disrupts that.”

As a man that’s all about fairness, Azul thinks it is only fair that those responsible for the mess clean it up themselves. When the kids return from the bathroom, Azul has already rolled his sleeves up and retrieved sponges and a bucket of soapy, lukewarm water for them to use.

He rolls his sleeves up and joins his kids in the clean up process, helping when there is a particularly tough patch of paint to scrub away or a hard spot to reach.

When all is said and done, they collapse onto the floor and to relax their tired bodies. Azul holds his children’s paint-covered forms close, and they share a family cuddle.

After getting his initial shock, Jade laughs a bit while hanging up his hat and jacket from work. With a thoughtful expression, he crouches down to meet his children at eye level.

Jade asks what sorts of antics they’ve been up to while he was away. He wants to hear the whole story—it must be an interesting one, no?—and it would help him unwind after a long day.

As his kids take turns explaining what events led up to the massive mess of paint, Jade listens in eagerly. His eyes flicker back and forth between them, as though watching Magift teams exchanging the disc in a furious match.

He produces his handkerchief and helps wipe up the paint splattered on his children’s faces. As he does this, he calmly reprimands them. “I do not mind if you amuse yourselves in messy matters... But next time, take better precautions to ensure that you are not discovered, lest you be ready to accept the consequences. Fufufu. After all, a ‘crime’ is not considered to be a ‘crime’ if you are not caught, correct?”

With that being said, Jade whisks his kids away to bathe them—one in his arms, the other holding his hand. He helps massage and rinse out any paint that might have dried in their hair, then allows them to enjoy the rest of their soak amid sweet-smelling bubbles.

When his children are all dried off and dressed, Jade smiles and informs them that they’ll be eating extra large portions of vegetables today as a little punishment for being “caught”. They’d better be craftier next time they get up to some mischief, or there will be even more vegetables to come!

Of course Floyd gets upset with his kids—in fact, he almost throws a bit of a tantrum himself. How come they had all this fun without him, huh? That’s just not fair!!

He doesn’t worry about cleaning up his kids at all, he just wants to join in—but Floyd’s face drops at the few bottles of paint that his kids had been messing around with. “Eeeh? That’s way too little to work with. When you’re having fun, you gotta go all out, right? Here, lemme see what I can rustle up for you guys. There’s so many other things that you could use~”

Floyd runs all over the house grabbing whatever seems to be viable art supplies (kitchen sponges, scissors, tape, crayons, hair dryers, milk, shaving cream...) and reappears before his children to unload all of it with a big grin. He loves the way their faces light up and how they squeal with delight at all the exciting new toys he has offered them.

They start doing all kinds of experiments together: melting a bunch of crayons with a hair dryer to see what kind of color they make, making designs on the table in shaving cream, finger painting... Floyd gets covered in paint and all the other supplies they use, so now he matches his children!

At some point, Floyd decides to be cheeky and swipe a dab of paint across his kids’ foreheads. They didn’t take that well, and retaliated by smear paint on their dad’s face, too! It turns into a battle, with both sides trying to cover as much of the other side with as much paint as possible!

At the end of the evening, everyone is pooped out and pretty much covered in rainbow blotches. They all lie on the floor, catching their breath and having a good laugh at the day’s happenings.

#twst x reader #twst #Azul Ashengrotto #Jade Leech #Floyd Leech #twisted wonderland headcanons #twisted wonderland #disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland imagines #twisted wonderland requests #twisted wonderland scenarios #curiouser and curiouser #Azul Ashengrotto x Reader #Jade Leech x Reader #Floyd Leech x Reader #Octavinelle #Tweels

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thegeneralguy · 3 years

Text

A good role model

Hello! Thanks to @amalianetwork for helping me out with this story. Its a bit shorter than what I usually post on here, but it struck some heart strings inside of me. I hope you enjoy it.

Twitter | Blog

“Come on Matt! We’re going to be late for the festival!”

The excited shrieks came from a young child not older than ten years of age. His wavy blonde hair was encased in a blue baseball cap, and he was wearing an old button shirt. He was grabbing the hand from an older young man, pulling him forward with haste. Both boys looked very alike, age being the most differentiating factor between them.

“Ease up Cole, your number starts at seven. There’s plenty of time.”

“Yes, but I want to rehearse one time before the show. Mrs. Davis said all kids in our class had to meet an hour before to practice our song”

Matt advanced reluctantly, feeling uneasy in his attempt at formal attire. He adjusted his badly-knotted tie and tried his best in accommodating his oversized shirt. But he knew it was a necessary sacrifice, because this was supposed to be Cole’s “big night”. He would do anything for his little brother, even if it meant dressing as a buffon. The boys were rushing through the parking lot of the local theatre, amongst a sea of other families heading to the entrance. They entered the building and immediately headed backstage to deliver Cole to his class. Matt made sure his small bowtie was in place, but when he tried to take the cap from him, Cole swatted his hand away.

“Cole, you know you’ll get in trouble if you throw a fit over that cap again. All the kids in your class have to be dressed the same.”

Cole pouted and grabbed his head with both hands, securing it on his head.

“Please let me keep it. I’m scared to perform without it.”

“Okay you win. Just this one time though. You’re a big boy now, there are some rules you have to follow.”

“You’re the best Matt!”, said the little boy hugging his brother.

“Just remember to have lots of fun! I’ll be watching you from the front rows. And remember, once your act is over we gotta go.”

“That's not fair! Mrs. Davis is gonna take us all for pizza once the show is over.”

“I’m sorry C. You know Aunt Gertrude doesn’t like it when we go out late.”

“I don’t like Aunt Gertrude. She’s mean.”

Matt kept a straight face not to give a bad example, but he knew what his brother was talking about. Their aunt was a real menace sometimes. Especially when her rules were disobeyed.

“Don’t be like that buddy. Aunt Gertrude has been nice to us, so we have to obey the rules of her house. Besides, I’ll take you for pizza on the weekend. What do you say?”

“Yay! Thanks Matt. I’ll hurry up after the show, I promise. See you later!”

Cole then turned around and sprinted towards his group. Matt looked at his brother tenderly, remembering all they have gone through together. The blue cap was originally his, a gift from their father. They never had a lot to begin with, and after his parents were gone, the cap was one of the only mementos he had from them. He remembered hugging it terrified, as the police explained to him with gruesome detail for a twelve year old how his parents had been killed in a mugging. Cole had been only five at the time. Their aunt was their only living relative, so they were placed in her house. Cole couldn’t stop crying during the first night, so Matt gave him the blue cap and told him as long as he had it, his father would be there with him. Five years had passed, and the little boy still took the cap everywhere. Convincing Cole to take it off to wash it was a real hassle sometimes, but Matt managed. He was a good big brother after all.

Matt went to his seat and watched the recital in silence. Group after group they performed, excited families bursting in applause every time their kid went onstage. The young man was growing increasingly nervous, watching the minutes turn into an hour. The show was taking too long, which meant arriving at his aunt’s too late and having to deal with her wrath. He was lost in thought when suddenly Cole’s group was onstage. He cheered and applauded his little brother, who along with his classmates presented a potpourri of popular songs. He immediately recognized him due to the blue garment sticking out of the sea of white shirts. Once the number was done, he stood up from his seat and went to meet his brother backstage to take him to their aunt’s.

Their Aunt Gertrude was a solitary woman, preferring to live alone and far away from any other neighbor. The little house stood right at the edge of the woods, standing lonely amongst the dark trees. The car was parked on the driveway, so Matt knew immediately their aunt was home. He prepared mentally for the fit she was about to throw when she saw them coming in through the door. Once they made it inside, he sent Cole straight to his room and went into the living room, where his aunt was sitting on her usual chair watching TV.

“So, look who finally decided to show up. This isn’t a hotel you know.”, said the fat woman looking hatefully at the scrawny teenager.

“I know Aunt Gertrude. Cole had a school event he couldn’t miss, so we stayed out until late.”

The woman sneered at Matt, and then continued watching her show.

“You know misbehavior has consequences right? You were out past dinner time, so there won't be any dinner for you.”

Matt felt the rage coming up from his stomach. He disliked the woman a lot, but he knew she was the only reason the brothers were allowed to stay together. She knew that too, so she made sure to exploit that fact every time she could. He didn’t mind missing dinner, he was used to it. But Cole had to eat, or his stomach would hurt again and he wouldn't be able to sleep.

“I can miss out on dinner today and tomorrow if you want, but let Cole eat something. It was a tough day for him.”

“You should’ve thought that before breaking the rules. Rules are necessary, or else you will end up like your good for nothing dad. He got my sister killed, you know. Only a bad person does that.”

Matt tightened his fists so hard his nails dug into his skin causing some bleeding. His father was his aunt’s favorite subject, always belittling and berating him. But he was a good man, very hardworking. A real example for Matt. His only mistake was being in the wrong place at the wrong time.

“Don’t you dare talk about him…”, he grumbled quietly. His aunt let out a cruel cackle, and glared at him angrily.

“Or what? You are just like him, you know. A useless dead weight under my roof. But not for long. You got one more night. After that, you’re turning into an adult, which means you gotta earn yourself a life.”

Matt had been so busy with his brother that he had completely forgotten about his birthday the day after. His aunt had been telling him she was going to kick him out that same day, but he always thought she said that only to intimidate him. Thinking about leaving Cole with that monster alone sent a chill down his spine.

“Are you serious?”

“Do I look like I’m joking you little asshole? As soon as you’re eighteen, you’re legally not my problem anymore. Besides, it’s good you learn how the world works. Not that your father ever taught you that. In fact, I think Cole was lucky to grow up without his bad example!”, said the woman laughing loudly. “Now, better get your shit ready. I’m calling farmer Joe tomorrow to see if he has some job for you. If you’re lucky he might even let you stay in the barn with the rest of his boys. Now, get out of my sight. My next show’s about to start.”

Matt just turned around and left completely speechless, hearing the loud music from the TV and his aunt laughing as he went upstairs to his room. Cole was already showered and wearing his pajamas, the blue cap still on his head. Matt sat down next to him on his bed, trying to keep his composure and not burst into tears.

“Listen Cole, I have to tell you something,'' he said, his voice faltering as he struggled to find the right words. “You know tomorrow is my birthday, right?”

“Of course! I wouldn’t forget. I even wrote it in my calendar to get you some chocolate.”, he said excitedly before realizing he just ruined the surprise. “Oh no, I just ruined your present.”

“No buddy, it's okay. You know I love chocolate.”, said Matt grabbing the little boy’s head. “But listen, tomorrow I’ll be eighteen. And that's a very special number. So special, that people invite you to participate in certain activities!”

“What do you mean?”, asked Cole with a puzzled look on his face.

“Well, farmer Joe has invited me to his special club on his land, so I’m very excited I can go now. There’s only one small problem, I have to go sleep there too so I can do everything the guys there do.”

Cole just stared at his brother, tears welling up behind his eyes.

“You’re gonna leave?”

“Don’t be sad buddy. This is a great opportunity for me! Besides, I’ll come to visit you every day, I promise.”

Cole threw himself at Matt, his little arms embracing him as strong as they could. Tears ran down his rosy cheeks, and he could barely articulate the words due to the knot in his throat.

“But I don’t want you to go! I don’t want to be alone in this house. I’m scared.”

“I know buddy, I know.”, said Matt hugging his little brother. “But listen, remember what I told you about that cap? As long as you have it, dad’s going to be here with you. And so will I.”

Both brothers embraced for hours, refusing to let each other go. Cole cried until he fell asleep, so Matt tucked him into bed and waited until it was late enough to go down and steal some food for the boy. His aunt went to bed just before midnight, so he had to wait until she was gone to go to the pantry. He was almost falling asleep when he heard the TV going off, and the heavy steps of his aunt going into her room. He hesitantly stepped out of their bedroom, and swiftly went down to get some food for Cole. His body was very light, so that helped him move silently on the wooden floor. He brought up some snacks, leaving them on Cole’s night table, completely missing the clock just striking midnight.

He went to the bathroom to get ready for bed. Taking off the horrible oversized shirt he stared at himself in the mirror. He was practically just skin and bones, lacking the proper nutrition and exercise for a good development during puberty. His dirty blonde hair was pulled back on a bun, looking just a shade darker than his brother’s. His aunt was right, he was pathetic, scrawny and weak. Barely a fitting example for Cole. But he didn’t want his brother to grow up without him. It was already bad enough he had to grow up without a dad, only to have his big brother be taken away too. He wished that both of them could stay together. That he was enough for his little brother, so he could provide him with the life he deserved.

The lights in the bathroom flickered, and the window was suddenly opened by a strong gust of wind, startling Matt. He started to get lightheaded, grabbing the small sink to prevent himself from falling. “It’s probably hunger”, he said to himself. But the more seconds passed, the worse he felt. He started sweating cold, drops falling down his face and his pale body. He watched a shadow creep over his skin, thinking he was starting to faint from starvation. When he raised his hand to touch the darkness, rough bristles greeted his fingertips. He was growing hair, all over his body. He watched it get longer and thicker, a thick mat covering his chest, and crawling down his flat stomach painting a thick treasure trail on his skin. Tufts of hair poked out from under his arms, his sparse armpit hair getting far denser. The shadow then climbed up his neck, fully flourishing on his face to form a short beard. Matt felt its roughness with the palm of his hand, fully enthralled by the sensation.

He then felt his bones elongate, shooting him a few inches towards the roof and lengthening his limbs. He looked like that creature slender-something kids were so obsessed about. Once his skeleton finished its growth, the muscles followed suit. He felt incredible heat emanating from his body, as each muscle twitched and grew to enormous size. Size packed on his chest, fully forming two massive pillow-like pecs sticking out from his torso. His cleavage was so deep he could probably put his entire thumb in it, and probably crush it too if he squeezed hard. Muscle packed on his shoulders as well, growing like two bowling balls. It made him look monstrously wide, fully condemning him to a life of having to go through doors sideways. His arms surged with power and grew as well, fully surpassing the width his legs had before. Thick hairy pythons hung to each side of him, resting at an angle due to the thickness of his triceps. His back then rounded out like a shield and expanded into a hairy muscular landscape. The lats were so big they looked like the could fall off of him at any moment.

He heard his stomach grumble, as it blew forward sticking out just a few inches behind his chest. Thick abs could be seen on the curve of his belly. His ass blew his dress pants into oblivion, each cheek swelling like a Christmas turkey. The legs followed suit, thickening into titanic proportions, powerful enough to sustain such a heavy top. Even his feet grew a few sizes, fully completing his transformation. Matt just stared at his new body speechless, feeling control over each fiber. He flexed his big arms, and bounced his heavy chest. A deep chuckle left his throat, and he realized his voice grew much deeper as well. He was so entertained by his new figure, he missed the clumps of hair falling from his head. His hair thinned out a little bit, and shortened itself into a clean cut, contrasting with its previous unkempt image.

Matt looked like a new man. His kid used to tell him he looked the size of a barn, just like that Disney song he liked from the film with the talking furniture. He was very bad with names, but he knew what movies his son liked. Matt scratched his head, confused by the thought of having a child. He was only eighteen, barely old enough to have a kid. But a body like this couldn’t belong to a young kid. A body like this took years of dedication, of pain and sweat, of discipline. He looked like the perfect dad, strong enough to protect, and big enough to climb over like a jungle gym. Matt smiled looking at himself in the mirror. His features changed and rearranged themselves into those of a masculine man. His nose was bigger and his brow stuck further out. Even a cleft formed on his now square jaw. He looked tough, but also lovable.

The maelstrom of memories fully blew Matt’s mind away, turning him into a perfect dad. He felt his dick snake up under his belly, and his balls drop lower and heavier like a mature plume, virile enough to spread his seed wherever he wanted. The rush of testosterone triggered more changes in him. His muscles got denser, more lived in. Crow feet printed themselves next to his eyes, and his skin got rougher fully aging two full decades.

“I’m one sexy motherfucker.”, grunted Matt, flexing before the mirror. He dedicated years of hard work and discipline to his body, and it showed. He loved the tight feeling of a shirt about to burst due to his titanic arms, or how the buttons popped open on their own due to his heavy chest. But even his glorious physique wasn’t his most valuable treasure. That was his son.

Reality rearranged itself around Matt, as memories of Cole growing up with him changed into those of a father raising his son. He remembered how tiny he looked when he held him in his arms, or how scared he looked when Matt dropped him in kindergarten for the first time. He remembered the recitals, the little league games, the birthday parties, the nights with Cole on his bed due to a nightmare, the camping trips. Everything he did, and had, was for his son. He was happy to grow up next to him, so he could teach him about the same hard work and discipline he put into his own life. Hopefully, Cole would grow up to be a good man like his father. And with those genes, hopefully big and strong too.

When Matt came back to his senses, he was standing in a nicely furnished bathroom. He adjusted the glasses on his face, and checked himself one last time before going out. The short sleeved shirt looked perfectly fitted to his big body, his arms almost ripping the tight sleeves apart. He came out of the bathroom to find the luxurious interior of a suburban home. He wanted his kid to have all his necessities covered. The memory of the tiny house in the woods and the monster within fully erased from existence.

“Come on Cole, you don’t wanna miss out on a good pizza, do you?”, he shouted, his deep bass shaking the foundations of the house.

“I’m coming dad!”

Young Cole came rushing down the stairs. His blonde hair shined brighter, and his blue eyes sparkled with excitement. He took his coat and headed towards the front door, where his dad was waiting for him. Matt noticed the small blue cap on the little table next to the door.

“Aren’t you gonna wear your cap?”, he said, handing it to his son. Cole just smiled at his dad, and turned the cap away.

“I’m not scared anymore dad. I don’t need it.”

Matt just smiled and opened the door for Cole. The happy family then headed out into the sunshine to live the rest of their lives together. Nothing would be able to separate them.

#musclegrowth #daddy #hairy hunk #reality change

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prfctethereal · 3 years

Text

just another horror movie. | james potter

pairing: james potter x reader

chapter: one

warnings: NSFW, smut, oral (male receiving), exhibitionism, talk of dead bodies, actual dead body, blood, vomiting

word count: 3.7k

read the prologue here or on ao3 here

summary: you and james take a quick detour through the woods, to have a bit of morning fun, but find something gruesome.

Three weeks earlier…

The quiet town of Hogwarts had never been quieter. It was typical though; towns that resided in the countryside of Scotland were often described as “quiet”, unbeknownst to most that it was anything but. Except, Hogwarts lived up to the stereotype. Peaceful, tame, quiet.

Quiet.

God, you needed some quiet.

Exam season was narrowing in, which meant endless nights of caffeine and random studying music that you found on spotify, its main purpose to help you concentrate. It was unfortunate, with the school year coming to a close, but you were determined to leave the year proud and satisfied with your work. Everything was going perfectly so far. Nothing could screw it up.

This is what you told yourself as you began your walk to school this morning. Leaving your house at seven in the morning on the dot had become the regular for you. Now that Summer was finally coming in, the walks were warm, without chilling breezes. You could feel comfortable with the wind in your hair and a light shirt on your back.

Something felt tranquil about this morning in particular. You didn’t feel held up or anxious. You didn’t even feel stressed as you busily organised your school bag this morning. You didn’t even blink an eye when you dropped your chemistry textbook on your foot. You were in a good mood. You were glowing.

Maybe it was because you had been getting some amazing sex from your amazing boyfriend lately.

Maybe.

But today wasn’t for what ifs. Today, you had one thing on your mind. A conversation needed to be had between you and your guidance counsellor, as the prospects of colleges were starting to roll around. Applications were beginning to close and your aspirations for life after high school were beginning to get clearer and clearer. You no longer wanted to be tied down in a small town, where the most important job you could get was at the Mayor’s office, sitting at a desk, listening to the complaints of highly egotistical citizens.

Wasn’t for you.

Your mind drifted off to your could-be life, and before you knew it, your legs had walked to your boyfriend’s house without you even realising. It was something unconscious and natural, something you were completely used to. The sight of the grand, three-story mansion that your lover lived in brought unprecedented comfort.

The spiralling pillars covered in the greenest of vines was something from a fairytale. A pale cerulean was painted across the panelling, giving a dream-like feel. Right above the front door housed a giant window, one that opened up into James’ bedroom.

Right. James.

Walking up the path, you felt comforted by the familiar sound of gravel beneath your feet. It reminded you of all the nights you had snuck up this very path to climb into James’ bedroom via the window. Nostalgic really.

Now you were here in broad daylight, ready to walk hand in hand with your boyfriend to school. Knocking on the front door, you were excited to see a nearly immediate opening of the door, with a very joyous boy standing there. His signature dopey smile glistened even brighter, as his eyes lingered over your clothed body a little longer than expected. His tongue shot out very quickly over the pink cushions of his lips, something you could’ve missed in a blink of an eye, but you didn’t. Laughing, he pushed his glasses up the nose of his bridge, before running his fingers through his unruly hair.

“Should we go then?” It sounded as though it was the first time James had spoken this morning, a fact that you didn’t mind, as your brain thought unholy things when listening to his gravely morning voice.

“Soon.” You mumbled, your voice trailing off slightly, as you stepped towards James, swinging your arms around the back of his neck. Taking a breath of his scent, you leaned forward, placing a delicate kiss upon his lips. They were slightly chapped, but you didn’t care.

It may have been a Summer day, but that wasn’t the only reason you were feeling hot.

Stopping yourself before you went too far, you pulled backwards, not before suggestively running your hands down James’ chest, smirking against his lips. “Come on, let's go.” You remarked playfully, smacking your hand lightly against James’ firm butt, which elicited a short laugh from the bubbly man.

So, hand in hand, you and James darted down his footpath, back into the street. Even more birds had woken up by now, with a choir of chirping serenading your descent into the bustling streets of Hogwarts.

Everything now seemed a little more public than you initially thought. Neighbours were waking up and going to work now too, giving no shorter than five second glances at you and James’ hand intertwined. You know what they would say; old people gossiped too much for your liking. It made you especially nervous, knowing that your parents didn’t know about your illicit relationship. Maybe it should stay that way. Well, before any neighbours get a little too gossipy in the weekly book club meetings.

“Are you listening to me?” James asked, snapping you out of your thoughtful haze. Blinking twice, you returned your attention to James, who’s eyes were laced with concern as he looked you over once again, eyebrows furrowed. “You seem out of it.”

“Oh, sorry.” Your voice came out almost silently as you looked away, flushed and embarrassed. “What were you talking about?”

“How I was going to fuck you so hard later today that you are going to struggle to walk.” James followed his statement with a dash of laughter, something that you mimicked like a pirate’s parrot.

“Well, I hope that’s not a joke, my dear.” You flashed a sly smile, looking James up and down. You both stopped walking, with James now admiring the way you were biting your lip, as if you were a siren trying to entrap him. Surely, you guys wouldn’t quickly dash away into the bush and go for a quickie right now, right?

James thought about it too, eyeing up someone’s poor hydrangea bush. Unfortunately, there would be too many witnesses, and exhibitionism wasn’t something you had both openly discussed before, although it wasn’t completely off the table.

“Lunch period.” James finally said, stopping his momentary halt, and marching forward.

“Lunch period?”

James leaned over, pressing his lips so close to your ear. His hot breath sent shivers down your spine, ones that ended in your core. “Meet me in the hallway between the chemistry and physics lab. I think there’s a new cupboard we could Christen.”

Giggling in excitement, you rubbed your fingers up the length of James’ arm, tugging him down the footpath, continuing your conversation about whatever. You learnt that he had a History test today, all about women earning the right to vote. You sighed as you listened to him talk about what he was passionate about, his stressed vowel sounds turning you on more than you would’ve thought.

Then came a predicament. An actual, real life crossroad. Right in front of you was where the footpath curved to the left, following along the road onto the main road through town. It was the way you went every day, with the road taking you directly to school when you walked along it, arriving perfectly at seven twenty-five every day. It was ideal.

This morning, though, you were feeling cheeky. From this footpath curve was another opportunity. The footpath also opened into a dirt path, something that twisted into the woods, or, as the conspiracy theorists of the town called it, the Forbidden Forest. It was hardly forbidden though; they literally took Scouts classes there, and those have kids as young as seven in them.

Feeling devilish, you paused James for a moment, the cogs turning over in your brain. You might arrive at school a little later than you first thought, but at least you would have some distance between the prying eyes of the Hogwarts neighbourhood. And maybe, you could have a little bit of fun too.

“James,” you smirked, tugging at the edge of his shirt, capturing his attention, something that wasn’t actually that hard to do, “shall we go for a detour this morning?”

Your eyes flashed over the forest and onto the quiet stillness of it. You could feel James’ heart rate speed up, but it wasn’t because he was scared. He was just as excited as you. It was like a switch had flicked on in his brain, although he was still hesitant, his feet still planted firmly on the ground.

“Are you sure?” James questioned. “How late is this going to make us?”

“Not that late at all.” You justified, mocking offence. “Oh, we should get there at maybe, quarter to eight? And besides, it’s fresh air, it’ll be good for us, and our lungs. Think of it as reversing the side effects of being around Sirius and Remus when they smoke all the time. Your lungs will thank us.”

“I’m not sure that’s how it works.” James laughed.

“How would you be so sure?”

“I’m the one that takes biology out of the two of us.”

You had to try another tactic, so, you jutted your bottom lip out of your mouth, putting on your best doe eyes, hoping you could flutter your eyelashes enough for him to give into temptation. “Please?”

A sigh escaped James lips as he seemed to give in. His reluctant look of worry was quickly replaced by an eager spark. Knitting his fingers in with yours, you two walked hand and hand together down the dirt path. The change of feeling beneath your feet was almost instantly recognisable, the normal, smooth, concrete path replaced by the rough dirt, and slight mud, even though it hadn't rained in days.

As you continued to wander down the path, you were suddenly covered in a canopy of shade, as the trees of the forest soon covered your heads. The route got a tad darker, the path no longer illuminated with the light of the sun, not that you minded though. You could still easily see where you were going.

You felt a little colder without the extra heat from the sun. You didn’t like the way goosebumps rose on your skin or the way you had to rub your hands along your arm to keep yourself warm. You felt out of control, a feeling of which you loathed. You didn’t want your perfect morning to be ruined by a little chill.

When you reached a tall, winding tree, you stopped James from his walk, pulling him off the path. Luckily, you had spotted a small dip in the earth, perfect to stay in, somewhere where regular bystanders wouldn’t find you. Happy with your discovery, you looked back at James, who had a puzzled look across his face.

“What’s going on?”

“Can I kiss you?” You asked breathlessly, your hands already getting fidgety. You wanted to be connected with James again, intertwined if you will. You needed to feel his skin, even if it was barely quarter past seven in the morning.

“Yes, love.” James breathed out, his voice quiet and shallow. WIth the consent, you leaned upwards, connecting your lips at last. It felt right to be pressed up against each other once again, even if it had been only yesterday when you had last felt such passion.

You deepened the kiss, feeling urgent to make the most of the short time you had together. Your mouths melded together almost perfectly, your lips pushing against each other like a playful pillow fight, one which you were determined to win.

Feeling mischievous, you reached to James’ hair, tugging lightly on his roots, an action you knew he liked. This action got the response you wanted from him, a needy moan, in which you took the opportunity to slip your tongue into his mouth, battling it out with his own, regaining confidence and dominance.

You pulled away, your cheeks flushed from the lack of oxygen. James looked disheveled but pleased, wanting to continue your little make out session, but unfortunately, you had limited time.

“Can I suck you off?” You whispered against his mouth innocently, looking up at his hazel eyes, brushing his hair off of his forehead. You could hear him gulp with nervousness, before nodding quickly, his hands making their way to his slacks.

You knew James was slipping into a mindset clouded by arousal, so you sank to your knees slowly in front of him, still looking up at him through your long lashes. On your journey downwards, you carefully unzipped the zipper on his pants, pulling them down to ankles, until he was clad in only his boxers.

Lifting yourself up slightly onto the balls of your feet, you kissed him lightly on the outside of his boxers, feathering gentle kisses. You knew you were being a tease, but you needed him nice and hard. As you felt his bulge setting like cement under your lips, you lifted your hands up, joining your lips so you could palm him, stroking the material.

When James started moaning, - “oh please, stop teasing, I beg you,” - you released him from the cage of his underwear, dragging the clothing down the apex of his things, watching the muscles twitch in excitement. There, James’ half hard cock laid against his thighs, the tip a gentle rouge colour.

Your fingers grazed over his prick, lightly tracing a prominent vein of the underside of the sex muscle. James groaned in pleasure, the teasing getting too much for him to handle. Feeling benevolent, you dribbled saliva over the tip of the cock, before wrapping your entire hand around it. You started stroking harder and faster, making sure James could feel all of you in a way you hand. He was starting to fall apart above you, but it wasn;t enough.

“So- so good.” James murmured, his eyes gently shutting as he became lost in the feeling. “Don’t stop, please don’t stop. I love your hands, so perfect, so precise. Perfect for me, precise for me.”

“It was like you were made for me.” You agreed with the raven haired boy, before bringing your lips down to the tip of his penis. This action shocked James, but the whimper out of his mouth made you know he was enjoying it. Living from the excitement of the exhibisionist route, you swiveled your tongue across the tip, reaching down the length of the cock, savouring his taste.

“Right there.” James moane, as you brung the rest of your mouth down over his now fully hard cock, reveling in the flavour of the salty precum that was leaking from his angry tip. With a smooth rhythm, you bobbed your head up and down on James’ cock, the sound of his moans itching you on.

You knew you were running out of time, and you still wanted him to cum, so you sped up your movements on James’ cock, stroking the base of his cock, which could not fit in your mouth. Adding to the pleasure, you let your hands move downwards a bit more, so they played gently with James’ hanging balls.

This applied pressure was becoming too much for James, as his breath became laboured and a tingling feeling was nearly bursting at his cock. “I’m gonna cum, please, I’m going to do it.”

You lifted your mouth off of James’ cock, just to murmur, “let go.” James, with your permission, spurted his cum across your hands. Eager to savour him, you opened your mouth, catching as much of the milking substance as possible, not wanting to waste any of it. Jacking James off through the entire thing, you watched as his orgasm crashed over him entirely, the way his face contorted in pleasure almost being the most beautiful portrait to you.

Licking the rest of his cum off of your fingers, you stood up, wiping your knees off, as the dirt sticking to you was becoming slightly uncomfortable. While you stood up, you reached from the top of James’ pants, pulling them upwards as you went.

“Thanks.” James almost laughed, except he still sounded out of breath, which was very reasonable though. You did just suck the life out of him. His fingers worked quickly, rearranging his pants, and cock, so that you both could continue on your way to school.

As you waited for James to finish cleaning himself up, your nose turned upwards. There was a strange smell coming from the area, one you didn’t notice before when you were on your knees in front of James. It was a smell that you were relatively unfamiliar with, but all you knew was that it stank like rotten meat.

“Can you smell that?” You asked James, looking off into the little ditch you were beside. Wherever you were, it seemed that it had been recently disturbed. Broken twigs snapped into pieces laid amongst crunched up leaves. If you squinted, you were sure you could even make out that faintest of footprints on the ground. It was odd, but nothing you haven't seen before in the woods. The smell on the other hand…

“Smells like thrown out vegetables.” James readjusted his glasses before holding out his hand, inviting you to close your fingers in with his. “I bet some old granny thought it would be a good idea to throw out their compost in the woods. If the council found out, they would have a fit. You know all about their weirdly tight rules on littering? It’s not even bad for the environment.”

You had stopped listening a while ago. Something didn’t feel right, but it was nothing you could sort out now. You weren’t satisfied but you turned back towards James anyway, knowing that you needed to head off to school or you would be running a little bit behind schedule. As you turned around, you noticed James’ face morph from a cheeky grin to a concerned frown.

“What is it?” You pondered, stepping towards James, matching his pear-shaped frown with one of your own.

“Did you cut yourself when you were on your knees?”

“Huh?”

“Look.” James bent down to look at your knees and you turned your head down too. What you thought had just been a bit of dirt must’ve been something else. Your knees were covered in a browny-red, maybe a maroon colour. It looked as though your entire knee had been cut open, as blood was still dripping from your skin, but that couldn’t be right. You felt no pain on your knee. You hadn’t cut yourself.

Swiping your fingers across your knee, you gathered some of the drying blood on your fingers. This was the first time you had looked at your hands since you wiped off your knees before and you saw that you had smudged blood stains all across your palm. You nearly barfed on the spot. You felt incredibly uneasy, like a stormy ocean filled your stomach.

You lifted your fingers up to your nose, a theory hypothesising into your head, and you were right. The smell of the blood matched the rotten meat smell you could smell before. As if you were a dog, the odor latched onto your nose and expanded, its putrid smell being the only thing in your senses.

“I'm going to be sick.” You doubled over a rock. Resting your hand against a boulder, you hovered downwards over a patch of leaves, letting your breakfast out. Your head was reeling as you could still smell the retching odor of the old blood. You couldn’t get it out of your mind, so you leaned over again, round two of the hurling intervention.

James rushed over to you, placing his warm hands on your back, rubbing soothing circles. He wished he could say that his main focus was to make you feel better, but it wasn’t. Over in the deepest part of the dish, he noticed something strange. It was almost like a small lump in the ground, something unnatural. It seemed to be covered very messily by old leaves and sticks, and an entire tree branch, as if it would make it any less inconspicuous. It even had that opposite of the desired effect, seemingly sticking out like a sore thumb.

“Darling,” James waited until you lifted your head back up, regaining your breath once again, “what do you think that is?”

James’ hand pointed into the direction of the ditch, in which you followed his eyesight and body movements. You could see it too; just a lump in the ground. Your mind was racing of what it could be. A dead animal? A pile of rotten food? Maybe a…

“Holy shit!” You had only just realised that James had already walked over there, except his body was covering your eye line, and you couldn’t actually see what James had found. Although, he told you immediately. “Quick, call the police. It’s a body.”

A dead body in Hogwarts? Making sure you didn’t lose any more of your stomach through puking, you rushed onto the path in the woods, grabbing your phone out of your pocket, hoping you could get service all the way out here in the woods. Fumbling to turn your phone on, you nearly groaned out in annoyance when you saw that you were getting no bars of service.

Running back to James, you couldn’t stop at the moment. You called out to him, your words a blurred mess, trying to convey to him that you were going to find someone to help. Unsure if he had even heard you, you ran back down the path, your feet carrying you to where you needed to go, unable to bring yourself to a cohesive thought.

When you exited the forest, you flicked your head around, trying to find someone, anyone, that could help in the moment. The first person you saw was your calculus teacher, Mr Slughorn, to which you promptly called out to.

“Mr Slughorn!” You cupped your hands around your mouth to project your words across louder. Mr Slughorn snapped his head around and gave a friendly wave. Annoyed, you shook your head. “Call the police!”

“What?” He called back, walking towards you now. You groaned, trying again.

“There's a dead body in the forest. Call the police!”

***

lmao. anyway this has become a series whoops.

#James potter #James Potter x reader #harry potter #marauders #marauders era #James Potter smut #jahmfic

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alpacaparkaseok · 3 years

Text

As Fate Would Have It

[1 / 5]

Ghost

The last time I saw him was July 16, 1392. It was also the day I died.

➣ pairing/genre: idol!KTH x reader, past life au // feat. OT7 BTS

➣ word count: 1.3k (jus a lil bitty beginning)

➣ warnings/tags: this is gonna talk about death, but not in a super gruesome/direct way. we keep things pretty SFW over here

a/n: here we goooo! thank you guys for sticking around for this new series, I hope you enjoy it! as always, your comments, reblogs, and asks mean so much to me and really help more than you know to keep going. So please let me know how you feel about this new series! Enjoy! 💕 p.s. if you didn’t read the prologue I would recommend you do!

series masterlist || join the taglist

“This is a major downgrade,” you sulk while shivering beside a crowded bus stop.

“Yeah, well,” Noa, your roommate gripes from your right, “at least you got to be royalty once. Quit complaining.”

“I heard that Kate Middleton is on her third life, and she’s been royalty all three times!” Daeun chimes in from your left. She’s also shivering, clinging to a flimsy umbrella that’s doing a poor job of keeping the three of you safe from the rain.

“Like what, born into royalty? Or did she manage to marry into it like this lifetime?”

Daeun and Noa continue chattering away, throwing off multiple theories and speculating about Kate Middleton’s past lives. Of course it’s all guesswork; the details of previous lives are usually meant to be kept secret. However it provides a temporary distraction from the bad weather, which is all you can really ask for right now. Hopefully it will prove enough of a distraction to sway you from your rampant thoughts of last night’s dream.

�� “Being born royal isn’t all that fun,” an elderly woman calls out as she ambles up from her seat to catch the approaching bus. It’s not the one you’re taking, that won’t be here for another couple of minutes. “My mistress saw a lot of sorrow in her day, and few remember her now. She deserved to be remembered, in my opinion. I owe her my first life.”

You tilt your head, squinting a little as the woman gives a wistful sigh. A memory nudges you from the catacombs of your mind.

“Who was your mistress?” The question falls from your lips before you can catch it.

The woman blinks, smiling softly. It’s almost as though the mere thought of her past mistress brings her peace. “Iseul, the final daughter of the Goryeo dynasty.”

The name carries a weight that comes crashing into you, both liberating and binding you to your memories. You’ve heard that name before, albeit centuries ago. And this woman…

“Ja-young.”

Two syllables, enormous power. The instant you utter them, the elderly woman gasps and drops her cane in shock. You rush forward, picking it up and placing it gently in her hands with a warm smile. There are tears in Ja-young’s eyes as you look at her, her old face creased with wrinkles and countless stories.

“My…my lady…” Ja-young attempts to bow, drawing the attention of several onlookers. You grasp her shoulders, stopping her.

“There’s no need to bow,” you reassure. “I’m just a girl now. I hold no power.”

Ja-young shakes her head. “No, my lady. I- I owe you my first life! What you did for me-”

“You would have done the same for me.”

“Oh, my Lady…” Ja-young’s bottom lip quivers as she clutches your forearm with surprising strength. “My wish has been granted. For so long I’ve been waiting to meet you again. You look just as you did, all those years ago…how did I not see it sooner? So vibrant – you haven’t changed at all.”

Noa and Daeun remain silent behind you, having experienced this before. It’s not your fault that nearly all your court from your first lifetime as the emperor’s daughter in the Goryeo dynasty have just so happened to be born within the same lifetime. Although, it does become a little odd when you cross paths with a gossipy maid or flirtatious errand boy in the produce aisle of your local grocery store.

Life is funny that way. You’re on top of the world one moment, and living off of a diet of Mac n Cheese the next.

“I’m happy to see you like this,” you smile. “You’ve lived a full life, it appears.”

Ja-young inclines her head. “As I did in my first lifetime, so long ago. My Lady-”

“I’m afraid that I’m just Hana now,” you gently correct. Despite the fact that you’re living in the 21st century, you still aren’t the most keen on the general public discovering your identity. Not when there’s potential danger still lurking out there.

“Oh, if that’s the case then I’m Ma-ri now,” Ja-young – now Ma-ri says. “Hana, I’ve been praying for the opportunity to see you again. I’m running out of time now.”

Time. It once seemed so infinite. And now it’s slipping through your fingertips faster than you can keep up.

“You’ve made it to your fourth…?”

Ma-ri nods solemnly. “And final lifetime. But I wanted to tell you, my Lady, that I kept my promise to you. I visited your grave often, I told my children stories of you. However, I wasn’t the only one who frequented the site.”

You jump as the bus driver lets out a shrill honk, clearly impatient. Ma-ri turns around, waving him on. With a shrug and an eye-roll, the bus driver closes the doors and continues on his way. Now the bus stop is empty save for your party of four.

“Who else visited me?” You ask, curious now at the gleam in Ma-ri’s eye. She had always been a feisty one, if you remember correctly.

An invisible shudder runs through Ma-ri’s body as she finally delivers the message she’s waited three lifetimes to deliver. Indeed, she can pass on to the unknown now that she’s finally laid eyes on her mistress once more.

“Sungho.”

“Kim Taehyung is not a murderer!” Noa defends, crossing her arms protectively as you clench your jaw.

“No, but Sungho was. And they’re one and the same, aren’t they?” You mirror her, also crossing your arms. “Aren’tthey?”

Your eyes flicker across the street, toward a billboard that lauds a BTS sponsorship for all to see. However, all you see is Sungho, smiling down at you with those same dark eyes from centuries ago.

Ma-ri left just a few minutes ago, catching a bus and leaving you with a scribbled address to visit anytime you wanted. You tucked it away safely into the pocket of your jeans before losing your mind.

“Hana, I don’t think you should be directing your anger at Taehyung,” Daeun quietly interjects, standing just off to the side. “He’s done a lot of good in this life-”

“You’ll understand when you’re older!” You grind out. Noa winces, but begrudgingly agrees.

“Yeah…sorry Daeun, but you’re a first-lifer. You’ll understand the next time around. It’s hard to separate people from what they were before.”

Daeun doesn’t argue, knowing it’s pointless. Living with seasoned lifers, as people who have lived multiple lives have been so lovingly dubbed, doesn’t allow much room for argument. Noa sports two past lives, enjoying her third. And you…

“Is this really how you wanna live this life?” Noa says, arching a brow. “Angry at some idol philanthropist just because of what happened in your first life? C’mon, Hana. That was three lifetimes ago.”

“You’re not suggesting that I get over it, are you?”

“Well…”

“Nuh-uh,” you take a step back, offended. “No way. Goryeo fell, I died, and he was there to watch everything burn to the ground. And I’m just supposed to let it go all because he’s some adored global icon?”

“YES!” Both Noa and Daeun shout, sending a few birds flying from a nearby bush.

You pause to think, staring daggers up at the billboard and Taehyung’s flawless features. Perhaps you would find him beautiful if it weren’t for the past marring your current viewpoint. You stare and stare, mind whirring with the possibilities of all that you could do instead of forgiving.

“It’s no use sitting here and sulking about the past, not when I can’t do anything about it…” you start, ignoring the relieved expressions on your roommates’ faces.

“Good, that’s good.”

“But…”

“No, back up. You were doing so well!”

The corners of your lips turn up into an evil grin. “…I have an idea.”

Daeun groans. “What’s the stupid idea now?”

You shake your head, stepping forward as the bus rounds the corner. “I’m not telling you.”

“Why not?”

“Because you’ll try to stop me.”

Noa elbows you lightly. “At least tell us what your end goal is here.”

The bus pulls up, doors opening and a flurry of people pouring out onto the street. In the din and chaos of it all, you turn to your friends.

“If you can’t beat them…” again, your eyes fall on the billboard, quickly finding Taehyung’s eyes among the rest. “Join ‘em.”

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taglist: @baepsaetay @dreamcatcherjiah @kookie-vuitton @thecaffeinatedscribbles @moon-write @fangirl125reader @heishichoulevi @knjkitten @sacha-cff @vik7797 @eusticenatalie @hesmyphenominiall @miriamxsworld @kayahay @secretlycrazyhummingbird @marianeamine @hqtetsurou @protontippens @beginwithamin @limiworld @jeonyoongi-jimin @buttvi @yoontaethings @sunshinejunghoseokie @delacyrose224 @jiminiesmagicshop @hitsussi

#taehyung x reader #bts x reader #bts past life au #v x reader #bts angst #bts fluff #taehyung fluff #armywriterssupport #bts sfw #taehyung sfw

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leverage-commentary · 3 years

Text

Leverage Season 2, Episode 14, The Three Strikes Job, Audio Commentary Transcript

Dean: Hi I'm Dean Devlin, Executive Producer and Director of this episode.

John: John Rogers, Executive Producer, Writer of this episode.

Chris: Chris Downey, Executive Producer, and this is the Three Strikes Job.

John: This is the first half of the big season finale which we like to do. And we are meeting our favorite recurring character Detective Bonanno, played by our friend Mr. Blanche, right?

Dean: Yes, Robert Blanche.

Chris: Robert Blanche.

John: Fantastic find; local actor. And it was interesting because really as we had come to- first time dealing with split season, first time Sophies not around, we had to- you know, we really hunted around for the character we would be emotionally anchored to for the season finale; you don't want it to be a random vic. And- cause last year was the whole Nate arc-

Chris: Right.

John: And having- Robert having established his character made him really beloved, made it easier.

Dean: And we've never really done a pre-opening like this that's quite this violent.

John: Yes.

Chris: Yeah.

Dean: So it was a little bit out of our tool box, but yet we tried to do it in a way that it didn't seem like a completely different show.

John: This is the edited version. In the original version, a toddler wanders through the field of fire and is brutally mowed down.

[Laughter]

John: I'm glad we cut that out, that was weird.

Dean: That wasn't good.

John: Just seemed odd.

Dean: Especially when the toddler pulled out a gun and-

John: And was doing the [unintelligible] the dubs were cool though. I liked those.

[Laughter]

John: So this is Sonny at the toll booth; there's no two ways around this.

Chris: Oh, yeah.

John: How tough was this to shoot?

Dean: You know, it was actually pretty easy. We had about six cameras shooting simultaneously; we did it 3 different times and moved the camera each time. And this van you may recognize from Beantown Bailout-

John: Yes

Dean: Which also got shot up. So whenever we need to shoot up a car, that’s the car.

Chris: And did we add-? Or did we-

Dean: Now here’s the interesting thing-

John: We putty it in.

Chris: We putty it in? Oh.

Dean: The actor was not available this day to shoot. So that’s a different actor made up to look like Robert Blanche.

Chris: Oh wow, that’s great.

John: That's great. So our local Portland actor has a double? A stand in?

Dean: Has a double. [Laughs]

John: Wow, that's great. Oh, she's fantastic. And now this is- again, one of these sorts of things where we’re trying to anchor all of Nate Ford’s emotional cues. And you actually tried to shoot this identically, if I remember correctly.

Dean: That's right. We wanted to try and match the look and feel of the hospital scene from the pilot, but just skewed enough so that we know we’re someplace else.

John: Paul Blackthorne's name. And this was a lot of fun. This was a big giant episode concept.

Dean: One of the things you have to understand is- you gotta know when we do these two-part season finales, they're really shot like a movie, cause you shoot them all at the same time. And this one is, as you will see - far more ambitious than what we did in season one. Yet because it’s at the end of a very tough season where the writers actually ended earlier than normal; we only have four days to prepare to shoot this two-part season finale.

John: Yeah. We actually started prepping off outlines.

Chris: Yeah.

John: And then I think I turned in the first half? First half first? Second half-

Dean: Yeah.

John: I think I kept in order at least. And then, you know, turn them each in. And by that point, nicely enough, the Portland crew was such a well oiled machine that they knew what they wanted. Also, we had learned by this point to really try to find anchor locations.

Chris: Yeah.

John: To build and tie our acts around. So knowing that we were gonna do the baseball scam, they knew they could start processing all that was needed.

Dean: This is also the first time in season two that we brought back this recurring nightmare of him reliving the death of his son. The idea was that he had to some degree resolved it at the end of season one, but yet it’s still there just below the surface, and then suddenly kicking in to the end of season two it comes back up again.

John: And it was really the last trigger. If you’ve been watching the arc all the way through, we’ve been playing with his control issues and the fact that he's drinking again, and that feeling of helplessness has triggered him back into his addictive behavior. I mean, he’s already kind of bathing in his addictive behavior at this point in the previous episodes, but this is what really pushes him over the edge.

Chris: Yeah.

Dean: Also normally we like to have fun kick in pretty early after the opening scene, but yet this- because we're trying to set up a larger emotional arc in this two-part season finale. We have an emotional opening with Bonanno getting shot, then we have another emotional beat where he’s reminded of his son, and here another emotional beat where he’s trying to connect with Sophie and his frustration of not being able to reunite with her is bubbling. So we really actually took a long time on this before we let the fun kick in, which is not usual.

John: Because we were really gonna screw with Nate Ford in these two episodes, and you really feel like you just can't, ‘Oh, remember that stuff you should have noticed in previous episodes? That’s why he's doing this.’ We really needed to reset it.

Chris: One of the reasons that I think this plays so well is that if you watch them back to back, which I'm so glad they were broadcast that way on TNT, is that this scene here really pays off in part two.

Dean: Yeah.

Chris: And it’s- you know, it's a little ways to go if you have to wait a week between them.

John: Yeah.

Chris: But now it really plays like a movie.

Dean: And big kudos to Jeri Ryan because she had- she only had a few episodes to create an arc, and really everything she did in the previous episodes come together in these last two.

John: Yeah.

Dean: She’s really part of the team by now.

John: Yeah. And that bit where she drinks his booze in order to get it away from him was actually the first physical bit we ever pitched talking about the character. We were trying to figure out a way to differentiate between Sophie and Tara, and the idea where Sophie is a little more sensitive, a little more coddling...

Chris: More empathetic.

John: More empathetic, yeah. Tara will just basically drink you out of your own problems.

Chris: Right.

John: This was a tough day. Mainly because Tim really dug in on this.

Dean: Yeah.

John: This rage- this was a tough day. You know, he’s angry. And you can hear him-

Chris: Yeah.

John: And you can- he really- this was a small set for them to be screaming at each other on. It was really nice.

Dean: Yeah. And it really helped the other actors as you’ll see just in the way they are reacting. I mean, you see Christian is really messed up by this.

John: Yeah.

Dean: And it was a great way to-

John: Yeah cause one of his best friends in the world is sitting eight feet from him screaming at his face.

Dean: Yeah.

John: I mean, you know. And yeah, they're all really digging in on the idea that Nate Ford has gone off the rails.

Dean: But once they jump in, then the fun begins again.

Chris: Yeah.

Dean: And now we start to get into that rhythm of, ‘Ok.’

Chris: You can see his little look on his face right here is the cue for the fun on Hardison.

John: Yeah. As soon as- yeah, as soon as the sarcastic ‘these guys are goons’ face comes up.

[Laughter]

Dean: Now by the way, those goons faces on the board are actually people who work here at post production at Electric.

[Laughter]

John: So don't be alarmed if you see them at your local bank or supermarket.

Chris: And I'll call out another couple of people whose faces are on this, too, you two guys a little later.

John: Oh yeah, we’re a little later. Exactly. This was also fun because this was something we kind of picked up on if you watch the second season episodes. A little bit more of detective Nate Ford.

Chris: Yeah.

John: You know, he was a guy who hunted bad guys.

Dean: Right.

John: And we put him back in the context a couple times this season of hunting bad guys. You know, and this one in particular he figures out exactly the situation in which case they should pursue.

Chris: Yeah.

John: Good crime scene photos. Big shout out to Derek.

Chris: Gruesome, yeah.

John: Gruesome, yeah. Nice.

Dean: But because we shot this scene before we had shot the scene with Bonanno getting shot-

John: We had no footage, that’s right.

Dean: We had no footage, so we had to make up fake crime scene photos and hoped that they would somehow-

Chris: Derek had those crime scene photos pretty easily, don’t you think?

John: That was a little disturbing.

[Laughter]

John: ‘I just went out and did it in a back alley in Chicago.’ This is also fun because this is one of the few times we’ve had Hardison of all people go, ‘I don't want to do this one. This one seems like a bad idea.’

Chris: Yeah. Now look at this shot.

Dean: Now this actor here- those of you who may have seen my film Flyboys, he was one of the pilots in Flyboys. And he did me a solid and came and did this little guest spot. And this is Richard Kind, who I had not worked with since Stargate-

John: Wow.

Dean: -and has been a family friend forever, and I think one of our most underrated actors in this country.

Chris: Yeah, I mean, it's the kind of part you typically don't see him in. I mean he plays kind of a nebbish-y guy.

John: Yeah.

Chris: And boy, did he just bring a gravitas and a menace and really built a whole backstory to his character.

John: Well let's talk about it- that’s where this story comes from. We really wanted to do our city of industry, corrupt east coast port town. I grew up near Boston, you grew up in New York-

Chris: Yeah.

John: -and, you know, this is very much based around that, sort of, north of Boston, Route 1 type of town.

Dean: Right.

John: And so getting an east coast actor, just a guy who could bring you that kind of New York power family vibe made a difference. And he showed up- he loved the script, showed up with three ideas. Three lines of dialogue, in three scenes that gave this character backstory, depth, and pathos. It’s like, ‘Wow, that’s a very good actor.’

Chris: And what the fact to do is Brad Culpepper the Third. I mean that he was from a long line-

John: Yes. And he dug in on that and he found something that just made you, you know-

Dean: He also came up with this concept that he wasn’t in it for the money, he was in it for the power and the legacy.

Chris: Yeah.

Dean: Which is an interesting distinction.

John: Yeah, exactly. There is- he really dug in on the evil speech of evil. The idea that he is not a bad guy in his own head in any way shape or form. This was- what hotel was this? Was this the Governor?

Dean: This was the Governor Hotel.

John: They really did us a solid this episode, they did a fantastic job.

Dean: We ended up shooting three different episodes at the Governor, and then they were our host for the Leverage convention.

John: Oh, also the wrap party.

Chris: Which was fantastic.

John: I don't remember that much.

Chris: The Leverage convention, which was awesome.

John: I can't believe you people missed it.

[Laughter]

John: We’re gonna assume nothing horrible happens. The horrible irony of when we try to recall these DVDs.

Chris: Oh, no, please.

[Laughter]

John: Lovely little- this was a great neighborhood; they put up with us. And this was a lot of fun, whenever you can play the annoyed brother vibe between the two of them.

Dean: Oh, I could watch it all day long.

John: Yeah. This was also the night we found out we got picked up for a third season.

Dean: That’s right.

Chris: Oh yeah, that’s right.

John: This is fun, that’s Beth in the rig on the ledge. If you go to my blog, you’ll see the pictures of her doing this. It’s insane. There's just no way we should be allowing her to be on the edge.

Chris: Oh that’s great.

John: That’s city hall, by the way, in Portland. That’s city hall.

Dean: That is, that is.

Chris: They let you just jump off the roof in city hall?

John: You know what- if you're in Portland, show up, ask, and they'll let you. I'm sure there will be no repercussions to me saying that. And this is kind of fun, Paul Blackthorne as the shadowy character that you kind of touch on. And this is all based on- his character’s actually based on a guy down in Florida-

Dean: Yes.

John: -who got an arms deal with the US government, who was like a bar guy.

Chris: Yeah, he was kinda like a party kid.

John: Yeah, who somehow got a 300 million dollar contract with the US government selling recycled arms from Eastern-

Chris: Recycled arms from Eastern Europe, yeah.

John: That’s Beth on the rappelling line. Remember that? We shot that.

Dean: And I’ll tell you, this is an example of how Beth, even alone, just completely captures your imagination. She has no one else to act with here except for our AD off camera reading dialogue, and yet she's completely engaged in the story, in the character.

John: Yeah, this was a lot- this was- actually you wrote this whole chunk.

Chris: Yeah.

Dean: Oh, here's another great local guest star.

John: Yeah. And that was another thing that Portland gave us. There's a lot of great local theater guys, a lot of local great actors who can really land a joke.

Dean: Yeah, it was so surprising.

Chris: I love that he has the ice tea, it's such a great-

[Laughter]

Chris: Such a great touch.

John: I like- and also the sort of- I don't know if it’s the weird veiled hostility between Hardison and Eliot gets turned outward whenever they run one of these cons-

Dean: Right.

John: -but that guy is going to be the subject of their rage at each other. This guy was really great.

[Laughter]

Chris: And this is a crime lab bit. I mean, let’s be honest, there are eight different CSIs on; we wanted to have a little fun.

John: Yes. We were kind of making fun of the CSI- the whole idea that CSI shows up at your house. I had my house broken into, they didn’t show up.

[Laughter]

Chris: The fact that the beat cop could be-

John: Bossed around by-

Chris: Bossed around by CSI guys was born out of those shows

John: And this, by the way, the bit with the balloons, was Richard.

Dean: Great.

John: Just awkward, just trying to shift it, trying to ground it. And again, this- what amazes me when we got into the research of it, was how cheap it was to buy these guys.

Chris: Yeah.

John: I mean really- like $10,000 gets you somebody's kid in city politics.

Dean: That's true.

Chris: The promise of a job when you're out of the office. You know, I mean, that's what brought down the Illinois governor.

John: Yeah, that's right. That’s right. And that's what is kinda fun is we do- oh, I love this bit.

Dean: Comedy frame.

John: Comedy frame! What is this? A locked off comedy frame.

Dean: Exactly.

John: Locked off frame, two people come in facing each other-

Dean: And I love this little smile right there on Christian’s face .

[Laughter]

Dean: He was just enjoying the bit until he realized, ‘Oh wait, I have to perform in the bit.’

John: Is that on the X? Is that- how did you get the RED so low?

Dean: Oh we just put it right on the floor on a sandbag.

John: Oh that's good.

[Laughter]

John: Thanks to these nice folks for letting us trash their home, by the way.

Dean: Yes. And for those of you who may have noticed in the wide angles, just the little numbers on the evidence things on the floors.

John: Yes, that they’ve scattered all over the ground. Yeah no set-dec did a great job.

Dean: You can see the numbers in the background.

Chris: Oh those are great!

John: And- and earning his pay-

[Laughter]

John: Nicely done.

Chris: That’s a nice little transition there.

John: It is a nice- almost like you put some thought into this.

Dean: And I swear I didn't. And this is our line producer’s wife .

John: Yeah.

Dean: Who also did a guest star in last year’s two-part season finale.

John: Last year’s finale!

Chris: Oh, that’s right!

John: I like the idea she was on vacation in LA last year.

Dean: Exactly.

John: And now she’s back and involved in another Leverage scam. In my head it's the same person.

Dean: And this is an interesting scene for their arc, because, you know, Beth - Parker - really didn't trust Tara coming in.

John: Well she's not part of the family.

Dean: And only in this scene does she actually start to earn her trust, and they start to bond.

John: And we also wanted to reset the fact that, again, Parker is good in the short con. If you throw a surprise at her she doesn't handle it well, because talking to people doesn't even go well. Interestingly enough, she relates to people better in character than as Parker.

Chris: Yes.

John: Yeah. And so until Tara gives her- so yes, the awkward- we really pulled up every political trope we could find.

Chris: Oh, sure.

John: I think we sat down - adultery, pregnancy, corruption. Then we just went through the Times one day, just pulled up every scandal from that summer.

[Laughter]

John: And the 4-18 months. And there's actually a mayor’s conference, too.

Dean: That’s right.

John: We found out where the mayor’s conference was.

Chris: It's in Vegas. Sure that's where you would have the mayors conference, and that’s where he would meet her.

Dean: I like the little turn Parker makes here, after she’s been coached part way through it, now she gets it. So now she’s feeling comfortable doing it.

John: Now she understands, yeah.

Dean: And you can see her-

Chris: ‘Yeah, I'll just wait out there.’

John: And that is an actual office- that's a conference room at the city hall?

Dean: That sure is.

John: That we rappelled down into.

Dean: We had to use it as the mayor's office, cause the actual mayor's office was too small.

[Laughter]

John: That's right.

Chris: Oh, yeah.

John: Infamously the mayor took the smaller office in the city of Portland cause he just felt like he only needed that much work space.

Dean: That's right. Mayor Sam Adams who’s been incredibly helpful to this show, and we’re very grateful.

John: Yes. Very cool guy. I don't regret that duffle bag full of cash at all.

Chris: That is a great shot there.

John: That is a great shot. That really establishes that space.

Chris: She’s- jeez.

John: She's beautiful, yes. I was referring to the setting, but-

Chris: Sorry, I was just-

John: Yes, Jeri Ryan was very beautiful, too.

Chris: I was just lost in Jeri Ryan.

John: It happens. And this is the great speech. And again, we listened to transcripts and looked at testimony. I mean if you look at Blagojevich-

Chris: Blagojevich, sure.

John: The remarkable bluntness with which they announce their terms and prices always amazes me.

Chris: Yeah. And it almost sounds like movie dialogue, but it’s not! It’s just the way they talk!

John: Yeah.

Dean: The evil speech of evil.

John: And we come up with evil speeches of evil, and then when you go find the real ones it's like, really? You said that? With a straight face? Alright.

Chris: Yeah.

John: No, research is your friend. We really- you know, this is a remarkable static act with an awful lot going on. I never noticed that before.

Dean: Well I think- again, this is- when we separate our team into different locations, but yet having them communicate, it really gives a sense of energy to it.

John: But we only have, like, three agendas.

Dean: Right.

John: You know, running it at any one time. This was a tight little shot. I remember this. This was- we were in that back bedroom, and trying to shoot. And then you had to- you had a totally different blocking, if I remember correctly.

Dean: Yeah, instead of being in the room with him, we decided we’d squeeze him through the doorway and make him feel like he’s in an even tighter space than he was by framing it that way. But it also gives a chance to use this hallway and bring in our guest performer.

John: Yeah. And the clue that travels over two different episodes. Hopefully, again, I'm glad that they aired these back to back because it would be tricky to-

Chris: Yes it’s- to track- there's a lot of stuff that this really did play like a movie.

Dean: And once again, we got to the-

John: Oh, the big smile.

Dean: -comedy frame.

John: Yes.

[Laughter]

John: That’s for all you young filmmakers out there, that is the comedy frame. And then the look- just the look of pity on his face. Yeah.

[Laughter]

John: And the badge on the- there's no reason the CSI guys should have a badge on a shield. Chris just loves the badge on the shield- the badge on a chain.

Dean: Exactly.

Chris: He likes that.

John: He really likes that look. If he can be doing like a 1970s- if he could be doing the British version of Life on Mars, he’d be the happiest man alive.

Dean: Oh yeah.

[Laughter]

Chris: Now I got a question for you. So was- now we had a Maltese Falcon joke, just one line in-

Dean: The previous episode.

Chris: -the previous episode. Did that give you the idea for the Maltese Falcon? Who came up with the Maltese Falcon bit?

John: No, you know it was- it was literally, I was trying to figure out, ‘What's the MacGuffin? What’s the maltese falcon? You know what, it'd be actually kind of fun to just call it that.’

Chris: Just the Maltese Falcon, OK.

John: Cause it’s so famous now, it's a little meta. And, you know, the fact that it would be called something rather than a shorthand for something-

Chris: Right.

John: Cause we use that in the writers room all the time.

Chris: Yeah, we do.

John: The maltese falcon, what's the thing? Macguffin, Hitchcock famously defined it as. And this is Nate deciding to bail on the pitch and making- and this is tough. He’s basically processing offscreen dialogue and acting like he’s coming to a decision.

Dean: I love Richard’s reaction to it, it's like ‘What?’

John: We just went for the whole-

Chris: ‘You just paid all this money, you don't want to engage in graft with me?’

John: Behind though-

Dean: Even out of focus he's stealing the scene.

John: I know. He's really upstaging the hell out of- out of focus. Look how far back he is. Aaand you're back.

[Laughter]

John: And we've announced our agenda.

Chris: We've announced our agenda, we know our- and here we go.

Dean: Now this place was great, this ballpark. We wanted to shoot here all year and hadn’t really found a way to do it.

John: And that's why I give full props to Chris, is cuz I had the crime story back half of this done, and I could not figure out what the con on the mayor was. And you had fallen in love with this location you had seen- you were like-

Chris: This was great, I had gone to a game here.

John: We can finally pay off this location. And that’s- again, that's an advantage of being a city where you get to know- cause the baseball con was always a half an episode.

Chris: Right.

John: And we could never quite get it to be a whole. And then it was like, ‘Oh, we need half an episode. Boom.’

Chris: Well also there's a lot of public corruption around building ballparks, and we did a little research that minor league ballparks bring 30 million dollars into the local economy.

John: That was great. The day we did research and found out it was just a flat 30 million for almost every ballpark, it’s like, that’s just a great number.

Chris: Yup.

Dean: And by the way, I think some of the best special effects we’ve ever done are in this two-part season finale, but I don't think you'd even notice it. For instance all these shots in the ballpark, we had to erase and change all the signage-

John: Oh, that’s right.

Dean: -because we didn't have permission. And then later, we had to put in the crowds that were reacting. So there are amazing special effects in this, but they are so real you didn’t even know.

John: That’s right. Utterly seamless. If you see them, we screwed up. Yeah, and this particularly since those aren’t lockoff, the camera is moving, you know, the character is wiping in front of it, yeah.

Dean: And again, I love what David is doing in this scene, he is just channeling Smithers.

John: Yes.

[Laughter]

John: And there’s Paul Blackthorne, he’s really doing the job for us as evil European dude. He has a large black car-

Chris: Yeah.

John: He's got a halfway rolled down window. We know what his job is in the story, we know what his job is in the narrative.

[Laughter]

John: But what I love here is the fact that Richard there's just so dismissive. I mean the body language here besides- Why is this a good shot? Because you don’t have to turn around to get both of them.

Dean: Exactly.

John: He’s very casually powerful.

Dean: Right.

John: This is a man who’s used to the world running the way he wants it to run.

Chris: Right, in this little burg of Bellbridge.

John: Yes.

Dean: And this is such a terrific location, and we were there early in the morning, got this great light. I was so excited to shoot this.

Chris: And they have a nice-

John: Story shcmory. Pictures.

Chris: They have a nice rapport here, too. They have this kind of easy going, you know, banter.

Dean: You know, so much of this episode- these episodes, was wish fulfillment. We wanted to be in that ballpark all year, we wanted to get near the water under the bridges...

Chris: Yes.

John: You also- in case you're skipping through the commentaries, you’ll notice this happens in Bellbridge, Massachusetts. Bellbridge is the corrupt town in Chris’s episode, Order 23.

Chris: Yes, yeah.

John: We decided to create just one imaginary Massachusetts city we could crap on for an entire season.

Chris: Yes.

John: Just to make sure we had clearances, and we always knew-

Dean: Exactly.

John: So please, if you're from a real Bellbridge, don’t be angry.

Chris: Yeah.

John: Yeah, their rhythm here is lovely. They are partners by this point, in a very different way. And the fact that Jeri has established that over six episodes is pretty cool. How tough is it to shoot in a ballpark, my friend?

Dean: Well some of this we actually stole footage at a real- during a real game, but the rest was very easy because they were so cooperative. I mean, this is the actual locker room and they let us have it for the day, and gave us equipment and were-

Chris: And those are the- are those the uniforms?

Dean: Just terrific. Those are the actual uniforms. The ‘P’ is actually for Portland.

[Laughter]

Dean: But in our show it’s-

Chris: Palmerstown.

John: And I love the fact it's actually the Portland Beavers, because if we come up with a comedy mascot we couldn't have beat beavers.

Dean: No.

John: And by the way the Portland Beaver? Good guy.

Dean: Very good guy.

John: Very good guy. Really cool. We hung out, everything.

Chris: Oh apologies to Crash Davis here, but boy does he do- he does-

John: Oh he's so digging in.

Chris: Does a great Bull Durham.

John: Really digging up. This is- we went back and forth- are we doing Major League or Bull Durham here?

Chris: It's pretty Bull Durham here.

John: It’s pretty Bull Durham.

Chris: The journeyman catcher who shows up unannounced, it’s-

John: Yeah, and also the idea that these- you know, talking to a lot of these guys who play this level ball, the precarious nature of their lives- I mean the guys who are kind of on rota from a major league team make a lot of money.

Chris: Yeah.

John: The guys who are journeymanning this out, a lot of them have day jobs, man.

Dean: What I love about this is that Eliot himself doesn’t like baseball. Because we’ve already established what a big, giant sports fan he is.

Chris: Yeah.

Dean: About how excited he was about all the sports channels in- both season one and season two.

John: But it's hockey- and it’s always hockey and football. And interestingly, we gave him your problem with baseball.

Dean: Exactly.

Chris: Yes we did, it really worked great.

John: I love baseball and I'm like, ‘I have no idea what he wouldn't like.’ And you said, I don’t like-’ Oh.

Chris: Oh, and John did a beautiful job directing this.

John: This is my directing debut right here

[Laughter]

Chris: Mark it down folks.

John: Japanese power drink commercial. Because it really was one of those things I had in mind and it's like, ‘Alright describe it. You know what? I can't describe it, I'll just shoot this.’

Chris: I think I originally wrote it as it’s like a car- like a local car ad.

John: Yeah.

Chris: Oh my god, how great is this Japanese sports drink commercial?

John: Also, again, you're lucky to have Chris Kane because a lot of actors wouldn't do the comedy beat in the commercial.

[Laughter]

Dean: Nails it.

John: He nails it. Look at the big smile!

Dean: And he enjoys it!

John: Look at that, having a good time.

[Laughter]

Dean: But he hates baseball, and then he comes in here and the minute he cracks that bat you just see- you know, heroin to the junkie.

Chris: He really did- he gave it a real arc, you know.

John: And also, I like the fact that this is the first time he uses a baseball bat for what it's actually meant for.

Dean: Right.

[Laughter]

John: He's been beating people up with baseball bats for like 20 years, and never really hit a ball with one before. Also, by the way, cool digital ball.

Chris: Oh watch this.

Dean: Exactly.

John: There you go.

Chris: Oh that is great.

Dean: I'm telling you some of our best digital effects-

Chris: That’s fantastic.

John: Oh look at that look.

Dean: And the second one- watch the indentation on the pad on the wall when the ball hits it. Small thing for effects artists, but really lovely, just oh that little indentation.

John: Oh that’s nice, the shadow. And there we are.

Chris: Oh there you go folks, there's Dean and John.

Dean: Oh dear, oh dear.

John: We’re also doing the voices here on the radio shows. On the DVD there should be about nine takes of this scene. Because the two of them, at one point it got very weird and sexual with her speaking Spanish, and Hardison getting all ramped up.

[Laughter]

John: It- this was definitely one of the ones where you just, like, park the camera and let the two of them go.

Dean: Yeah.

John: Yeah.

[Laughter]

John: Interesting, one of the challenges of shooting the greenscreens is color temperature.

Dean: Yes.

John: We actually had a little bit of trouble with this shot because- most people don’t understand, there’s a lot of different greens that go on green screens. It was not dead right, doing the special effects goes from easy to unspeakable.

Dean: Exactly, and so this one had- a lot of work had to go into being able to see what was on the screen.

John: Ironically, a lot of this was harder to see than the incredibly complex crowds and baseball stuff.

Dean: The stands, exactly.

John: This was a lot of fun. Outside real city hall, outside Portland city hall, at a coffee shop across the street at some ungodly hour of the morning.

Dean: Yeah, this was the first thing we shot that day.

John: And again, this is- it was interesting how originally there was an entire subplot where, how they’d been lured there, how the mayor- and you don’t need it.

Chris: Yeah. This is much better.

John: Yeah.

Dean: He just sees them, he walks across the street.

Chris: Yes.

John: We even took that bit out. We originally had him see them.

Dean: I love the really, really bad heist.

[Laughter]

John: The bad lift.

Dean: Smithers stumbles into the table.

John: And Kind just drops the look there a little bit.

Chris: A little disgust right there.

Dean: Just a little squint.

[Laughter]

John: And the turnaway when it’s like, ‘Oh horrible lift.’ They don’t even have to- they both know what happened, they both know it was unspeakable.

Dean: Well, you know, amateurs to pros, you know?

John: And this was fun, these are based on real blueprints.

Chris: Yeah, real blueprints for-

Dean: This was that other shot was the beginning of the day. This was the last shot of the day, and we’d run out of time. So I had to shoot this all in one shot.

John: Oh this is a one-er!

Chris: This is a one-er, take a look at that.

Dean: This is a very hard steadicam shot. While it’s not that impressive of a shot, it's a very difficult shot.

John: And also-

Dean: Cause you’re doing all the coverage with one camera.

John: And you're banging focus like crazy.

Chris: You’re getting a lot of information, right.

John: And also the actors can’t mess up.

Dean: That’s right.

John: At no point can they stop, can they drop a line, can they, you know.

Dean: The only thing we did is one little reverse at the very end on David’s character. But as you can see all of this-

John: To give you a cut, or?

Dean: Just to give us a cut in case we needed to combine.

Chris: It’s interesting how great these end of day one-ers come out.

Dean: Yeah.

Chris: And they're born of necessity.

Dean: That’s what so interesting about television is, you know, it really forces you to be creative.

John: Yeah. Oh there you go, I see what you did.

Chris: Oh here's the ballpark.

Dean: Now this is a mixture of stuff that we staged and stuff that we stole during an actual ballgame. But all the-

Chris: The actual ballgame you shot before, I think, the script was written.

John: I think I sent the outline saying we would be at the ballpark. And so Dean had to come up with a shot list based on basically our friendship-

Chris: This is great.

John: -figuring out what I would probably put in the script.

Dean: These are all real things there.

John: Yeah.

Dean: That we shot. Now all the crowds, though, we added digitally.

John: Yeah.

Chris: Oh that’s great.

Dean: So in all these wide shots when you see these full crowds, they had about- there was a scattered amount of people. In all the shots where it’s full, that’s us.

John: Yeah.

Chris: That’s great.

Dean: For all these shots here. And of course all the signage is changed digitally.

John: And Kane went down, caught a couple pitches, and actually on the shot we have him hit, he actually connected, put it on the warning track. It was a good day for Chris Kane.

Chris: That’s a beautiful shot, too, there; love that.

John: That's a beautiful one, yeah.

Dean: And this actor is actually a state senator.

[Laughter]

Dean: Who had helped pass the legislation for us to-

John: I actually think we’re the bad guys at this point. Seriously, we’re doing an episode about graft and corruption and-

Dean: Well the hilarious thing is, he wanted to play the corrupt mayor.

John: I know. And we were like ‘You know dude, that's probably not the best idea for you to play the corrupt mayor.’

Chris: I can see the campaign commercials.

Dean: All those crowds, digital.

Chris: Wow, that’s great.

Dean: I mean that's really something.

John: And look at that, through a moving shot.

Dean: And then all the signage behind them is changed as well.

John: And that’s our-

Dean: And if you notice, that’s Hardison’s orange drink on the sign.

Chris: Oh that’s great.

John: Oh my god, that's right.

Chris: And to do with- with a moving camera is very difficult.

Dean: Very difficult.

John: And this is a conference on the mound from both Major League and Bull Durham.

Dean: And the pitcher is actually our second AD.

John: Kyle, yeah.

Dean: Yeah.

John: That's right, you give him a nice hero shot here, too.

Chris: Oh, that's a great shot of Kyle.

John: I also love- This helps lock in the arc where he’s like, ‘I'm now fully committed to winning baseball as much as I am to winning fights.’

Dean: Exactly.

John: No this was a lot of- and this is a lot of fun. This was- it's amazing what you can do with implication.

Dean: Right.

John: You know, just put two people in the same geography and let the characters draw their own conclusions.

Chris: Yeah, let them do the math.

John: A lot of time you'll try to oversell the con, and what you have to remember is people create narrative about the world around them, you know?

Dean: Oh and I love this bit.

John: Yeah this is a lot of fun, the stuntie really took a hit. And down!

Chris: Oh, oh, oh!

[Laughter]

John: I love he does kind of the -

Dean: Notice that the ref is cross eyed; he's a real ref!

[Laughter]

Dean: That is not something that- I didn't ask him to act cross eyed.

John: I love this- that dude is dead. That dude is dead. He’s plainly just- he's not getting up. Right now they're asking people to leave the park quietly.

Chris: I think he did that in one or two takes, I mean, he just got it.

Dean: Yeah.

John: He just- it was a beautiful fall.

Dean: By the way, this is another one-er and this is a very difficult scene to light for television where you don't have that much time. And our DP was really creative in the way he made the sun blazing through the back to light up pretty much the entire set.

John: Yeah.

Chris: Now was it easier because you're working with the RED camera for something like this? Available light...

Dean: The RED helps, but at the end of the day it’s about your DP and your gaffer, and we really have, really, two of the best guys in the business.

John: And again, this is also- so much help to be able to do the research on this. Where it’s like, ‘Well, how could he possibly communicate in code how much money-?’ No, he would write it down and give it to him.

Dean: Right.

John: That's what they do, apparently, I had no idea.

[Laughter]

Dean: Right.

Chris: Yeah.

John: Or they'll just say it, unaware. And this yeah, this was a lot of fun, because also- Richard really found the idea that he was supposed to help Nate feel overconfident.

Dean: Right.

John: You know, he's supposed to play into it a little easy. And he's- now he's totally into it.

Dean: I love how cross eyed the ref is, that's so great. I mean, the umpire, that's just so great.

John: Boom! That was a good solid hit. That's- Chris Kane put it on the warning track ladies and gentlemen.

Dean: And if you listen carefully in the background, you can hear the crowd chanting ‘Roy, Roy.’

[Laughter]

John: Oh he's become a hometown hero in roughly two weeks. What's the next shot up? Oh there we go, back at McRorys.

Chris: Now- now we're back.

John: Now this is one of our lovely roundy- and oh, this is great. One of our roundy-rounds where we just basically- script kids, when you want to communicate pipe and reset, the way to do it is have somebody not give a crap about the pipe that you're talking about.

[Laughter]

John: He has his own agenda, it makes it instantly amusing.

Chris: Somebody comes in irritated.

Dean: And boy did he knock this out of the park.

Chris: Yeah, yeah.

Dean: Kane, who didn’t care- I mean Eliot, who didn't care about baseball at all, is so proud of himself and he's so mad they didn't share his moment of glory.

John: His joy. They named a sandwich after him. Also, that’s a nice beat that they all chose. It’s like, you know, alright, you gotta give it up. That's a nice moment; boom, boom, and the fistbump.

Chris: You got a sandwich named after him.

Dean: Eliot has a hoage? No a reuben.

[Laughter]

John: I also like- I had not noticed before because I was kind of- Nate’s taking a phone call and I was watching it for that beat, the, sort of, fun that Jeri Ryan’s playing there, it's like, ‘OK, I'm part of the family now, this is genuinely amusing.’

Dean: Now this is a fun reveal shot.

John: One of the cross cuts that I gave you again as your birthday gift. Moving in opposite directions?

Dean: Moving in opposite directions so that they are always looking at each other screen direction wise.

Chris: Right, right.

John: Cause we know awful things happen when you cross the lines.

Dean: If you cross the line, cities fall.

[Laughter]

Chris: No, but I mean, when you do phone calls that's an important thing to do.

Dean: For me I think so. I’m old school.

John: What I love is the fact that he starts the incredibly confident powerful guy that we know. And by the end of this swing around, Richard lets himself just kind of look- just

Dean: Now he's-

Chris: Nice reveal there.

John: Yeah, and nice reveal on that blown out window. And now he's just a pawn, he's just a broken little man, you know. And that's very- the last shot is plainly Nixon.

[Laughter]

John: It’s plainly like- what's that famous shot of Nixon at 2am in the oval office?

Dean: Right.

John: It’s that look at him. And he did all that in one take, conveying pipe to Nate.

Dean: And now we switch to our handheld, because our guys are in trouble. And I love how much Nate is overcompensating. Whenever Nate’s overcompensating, you know something has gone horribly, horribly wrong.

John: And his addiction is taking over. Be it booze or control.

Dean: And in this case, both.

John: Yes. He's not really got his head on in this particular case. Yeah, everyone's arguing with him, everyone- and this is another great thing, when Nate spins out you don’t ever have a problem with the plot, because the problem with the plot is the point of the plot.

Chris: Right.

John: Like with, ‘That doesn't make sense. That doesn't make sense.’ Exactly! Tell that to Nate!

Chris: Yeah.

John: It's important for him to know.

Dean: Our editor did- Brian Gonosey, did a very interesting choice here from cutting from Nate to Nate. Which we almost never do, and it gives it, kind of, strange, nervous energy.

Chris: Well you're kinda-

John: It's claustrophobic.

Chris: You get the sense of people's eyes on him.

Jon: Right.

Chris: A lot of people looking at him.

Dean: But it’s not- again, that kind of cut we don't normally do on the show, and it really makes this a nervous scene.

John: Yeah, you’re going-

Dean: Nate to Nate to Nate to Nate.

John: Yeah, cause you're hopping- Jeri to Parker, you're seeing him plead his case. Jeri to Beth, Jeri to Beth, you know, you're seeing him through their eyes. And then back to the reactions where they know, yeah.

Dean: Something’s wrong.

John: And each one of them is making a very specific decision at that point.

Dean: Again, this port- these guys were so great to let us shoot there.

John: Oh man.

Dean: Gave us such wonderful access.

John: That’s the real port, that's not stock, baby, that’s-

Dean: That’s right, that’s the real deal.

John: And- and a lot of fun doing the TSA stuff, doing the Homeland Security stuff. The research on this was as horrifying as you'd imagine. Most of this is security theater, your ports are not secure, sleep tight America.

Dean: And this actor was also discovered in that same improv group that we found the actor from the doctor episode.

Chris: Oh that’s interesting.

Dean: The Order 23.

Chris: John, you made a good point about how Order 23 pays off. A question about Order 23, about security at the courthouse.

John: Yes, in Order 23 there's a beat like ‘How do they get the gun in there?’ And it’s because the courthouse has not been refurbished, because the budget on the town-

Dean: Right.

John: The city is so poor. And that's also why he felt confident hiding the money there.

Chris: Right, right.

John: That pays off here in the- you find out the reason there's no money for the city is the mayor has grifted it all.

Dean: Right.

Chris: All the security money that he got, federal anti-terrorism money went into his own pocket.

Dean: And I love how Eliot is now playing a celebrity.

[Laughter]

Dean: And he's so proud that he's a celebrity.

John: And we also flipped roles for once, cause Hardison is usually not the one who’s annoyed, it’s-

Dean: Right.

Chris: Yeah, no it's true, he is.

John: It's really he’s- and it’s really both, ‘Get back on the job,’ and, ‘I'm not the center of attention.’

Chris: Yes.

Dean: These two are magical together.

John: Yeah, that's a great- this is a great noir set up.

Dean: Yeah, even with the black car in the distance, which is a bit of red herring.

Chris: Look at this shot, I mean this is a movie shot.

John: Beautiful. Now how do we- was this at night? Or were we during the day here on this?

Dean: This was at the end of the day, so we actually spilled into night and had to light it to keep it looking like this. And that's an actual oil tanker that they allowed us to shoot at.

John: Yeah.

Chris: Wow.

John: And then that- this walkway is actually exactly where we just located it. It's directly below the docks. And it really was- a lot of the fun was walking around the location going, ‘OK, this scene can happen here, this scene can happen here.’ And we didn't get too poisoned shooting in this warehouse. We all had funny coughs for about a week, but we were OK.

Dean: They warned us about spiders and raccoons under this-

John: Yeah.

Dean: So we were looking for eight-legged raccoons at some point.

John: At some point we were very worried there would be a horrible combination.

Chris: Oh really? Wow, I missed this part.

John: Well you weren't up here for shooting at the oil tanker, getting poisoned by fumes.

Chris: Yeah, yeah. I looked at the schedule and went, ‘What’s the day you hang out in the baseball park?’

John: I noticed that. You came for the baseball park-

Chris: ‘Oh, I’ll come for that.’

John: You really didn't hang out with us in the oil tanker hold. Yeah, black lung kicking in.

[Laughter]

John: This is a great cross cutting by Brian, this kind of- what he's doing is he's finding some- finding an odd rhythm here. It's not danger, it's unease.

Dean: Right.

John: You know, every shot is a little too short, it's a little too- yeah. And again, sort of end of day shooting, everything in the warehouse from the moment they walk in- like they get to the oil barrel, through the end of the episode pretty much, you did in a one-er.

Dean: Yup.

John: One direction one way, one direction the other.

Dean: Your easy bake oven reference is awesome. I don't know how many people under the age of 40 are gonna get it, but god I love that reference.

John: Who under 40 watches television anyway?

Chris: I appreciate it so much. Made me laugh so hard.

John: They've still got those. I got one for my niece.

Chris: With the one little bulb that actually makes the cake.

John: Who knew? I love, Parker is constantly finding crates full of guns.

[Laughter]

John: I'm fairly sure she could open a gift with purchase from Neiman Marcus and it would have guns in it.

Chris: And by the way, kudos to you to find- when we put this thing together, to find the transition between corrupt mayor and arms deal in the docks. I mean, the thing was built around certain setpieces.

John: Yeah. And also it sort of made sense these- when you research, the amount of legal arms dealing that goes on in the states is magnificent.

Chris: Right, right.

John: And when you find out these guys run these things out of Boston, New York, Miami, you know.

Chris: Right.

John: It's got to be somewhere.

Dean: And this is one of the rare times where our team is really losing at the end of an episode.

John: Oh yeah, they’ve got to lose. They really- they have- and this was interesting, because it really was one of those times where we sat back and said, ‘In what version of this show are our guys the bad guys that get caught?’

Dean: Right.

John: Just write this section of this show like that show. Like we're writing NCIS or we’re writing CSI or something. And really put our guys in the dead seat. And man he just radiates rage.

Chris: Yeah.

John: And it's not just because Richard Kind is a bad guy, it's because he's lost control.

Chris: Yeah.

John: You know, that is Nate Ford in a world he doesn't want to live in.

Dean: Now we got them in this impossible situation, and- but we can’t end the show without a little bit of fun.

John: Yeah.

Dean: And the win within the loss here is, I think, is truly inspired.

John: Oh yeah, managing to get them out of there.

Dean: Yeah.

John: That was a lot of fun. I can't remember where the idea from- the idea of the multiple exits came from. We were playing around in another episode with ambiguity, somebody- signal of, like, time and ambiguity, and that held over, because you use all the parts of the animal, and that hung out and that's of course-

Chris: That's Katie O’Grady.

John: Katie O’Grady.

Chris: She’s a terrific Portland actress. She runs an acting school up there.

John: Yup, yup. And she really came in as kind of one off, and it’s- after two episodes it’s like, ‘Yeah, I could see this character coming back. I could see this fed,’ you know. A lot of Portland actors did that. A lot of Portland actors turned one day into a recurring role.

Dean: Yeah.

John: The- and just barely buying him enough time. And that's the important thing here, is that each character is finding a little piece of the solution. That was the fun of this episode is, there's a famous fighter pilot saying which is, ‘Stay alive for the next 10 seconds.’ That's all you have to do. In the next 10 seconds, your wingman will get the guy, or the guy will get out of position, and that's all they are trying to do for this section of this script.

Chris: Yeah.

Dean: Thers a great turn here where he reveals that he was somehow part of this attempted assassination of one of the family- the extended family.

John: Yeah.

Dean: And the rage that comes out of Nate is everything that’s built up over the entire year.

John: And what's really interesting is, because you shot this all in one piece- this is not split up into takes, this built in real time.

Dean: That's right.

John: You know, this really builds from that confession- and I was out of position the first time he did the wrench, and I was like ‘What the hell just happened? Did Tim just crush Richard Kind’s head?’

Chris: It's his friend! They're friends!

[Laughter]

John: Yeah, they're friends, but the wrench wasn't in the script. Tim just picked up the wrench!

Dean: Right.

Chris: He just picked up a wrench. And we were like, ‘Is that a rubber prop wrench?’

Dean: I love her character is like, ‘Then just kill him.’ I mean, she has no moral position on this, she just wants to get out alive.

John: Yeah, this- like we were talking the other day, where Sophie still exchanges Christmas cards with people she's ripped off, Tara Cole has walked out of a lot of burning buildings with metal suitcases full of bloodstained cash.

Dean: And never looked back.

John: And never looked back. And in that moment she is absolutely serious. If you're gonna kill this guy, get it done. You know, but she’s not gonna coddle him.

Dean: Now this may be one of my favorite bits that you guys have ever come up with, and it starts with a great turn.

John: It’s like- you know why? Cause it’s a locked off comedy frame, my friend.

Chris: That is.

Dean: Locked off comedy frame. But it's one of the oldest gags in television.

John: It is.

Dean: Is that slow turn look.

Chris: The turn look.

John: And then the turn reveal, and this-

Chris: ‘Oh no. Oh no, you're not gonna do it. Oh no, no way, Jose.’

[Laughter]

Dean: And once again, Aldis Hodge showing why he is a truly, truly special talent. This part is not written.

John: No.

Dean: This part is just him going-

John: The printed page ends with, ‘They turn and look at the van.’

Dean: Right.

Chris: Yeah, yeah, yeah.

John: Yes and-

Dean: All of this is him being brilliant.

John: And that means also that Beth and Chris had to find the timing to when they were both gonna turn.

Dean: Right.

John: And that's the thing is, they work together a lot, now they've got a lot of, sort of, physical cues from each other. But yeah, this is all him, this is all him going off. And this is born of 207 when we shot him and Will Wheaton versus each other; they spent the whole day in the van alternating. And so Aldis was making a joke about the fact he has a very weird relationship with that van, cause he's in it and nobody else is.

Dean: And he even brought back in the fact that everyone teases him that the van smells.

John: Yes, exactly.

Chris: That the van smells, we made that a recurring thing.

John: So that's become a recurring thing and it was really- it was really the actors discussion of his character that led to the bit.

Dean: Now a lot of people may miss this-

John: Oh this is my favorite bit-

Dean: -but just watch Parker when the doors shut.

John: Yup.

Dean: Because Parker is so close to Aldis she gives a kiss goodbye and leaves the little lip print.

[Laughter]

John: I never noticed that before.

Chris: Oh she did, she leaves the lip print, that’s great.

John: Not in the script.

Dean: One of my favorite camera moves right here. ‘Aaaaand, let’s begin.’

[Laughter]

John: There is- definitely been working together long enough now that we know- and now that jazz music is in the background, we’re up and running.

Chris: There you go.

Dean: It all kicks in. And again, how Richard was able to now change from that dark to humorous. Literally turning on a dime.

John: And this is him-

Chris: Oh there's so many speeches he made saying goodbye.

John: This is him doing the- that is Kirk saying goodbye to Spock.

[Laughter]

John: By the way, from the Wrath of Kahn, that is the speech he's doing right there.

Dean: And we- my favorite digital effect.

John: No van, no van there.

Dean: All painted.

Chris: Oh that’s great.

John: ‘I’ll miss you.’ No and that was- but of course, again, you were blowing stuff up at a dock.

[Laughter]

John: Without any real permission or notifying the authorities. It’s really I think I'd be disappointed now if you called ahead.

Dean: That’s right.

John: And this is the reveal, and this was really tricky, trying to figure out the timeframe, how they could get around, how quickly they get around.

Dean: So we had to use the bomb as the time signature.

John: Yeah.

Chris: Right.

John: Because the- when we got there originally, this was structured slightly differently, but the exits in the physical locations didn't match. But that’s why TV is great, you have a writer on set-

Dean: Exactly.

John: So you can actually have the director walk around with you and go, ‘This isn't gonna work.’ ‘Sure it will.’ ‘No it won't, fix it.’

[Laughter]

Chris: Well I think originally the thing went inside the-

John: Yes, yeah. And we couldn't do that, and you couldn't see the blow, and then you had to blow all three doors simultaneously if you did it, and it would've been madness. And Katie's look of rage there is magnificent.

Chris: That’s great, as the car goes by.

John: It really- ‘I am an angry, angry fed.’ And this is also one of the times when we don’t let Nate off the hook.

Dean: Right.

John: You know and Aldis is genuinely- yeah.

Chris: Yeah, he managed to transition from the fun of saying goodbye to the van, to actual rage.

Dean: Genuinely pissed off. And now another bit of John Rogers directing on this episode is the car getting away.

Chris: Nice!

John: The car- yeah, this is-

Dean: Right here, here we go and then look at this nice power slide.

Chris: Oh, good job.

John: I caught the reflection in the side of the car that was suction cup bounce and they actually hold on. You didn't give me the wet down one.

Dean: And this is my favorite reveal of a character ever.

John: I have no idea how you did this! Did you lower him by rope? How does he get in the shot?

[Laughter]

Chris: Well he comes in-

John: And we’re coming around, this is all a one-er and… he… is… there.

[Laughter]

John: He just- it is one of those things where, much like-

Chris: How would he fit inside?

Dean: [Mimicking Mark Sheppard] There's no one else that can make an entrance-

John: Quite like Mark Sheppard.

Dean: -like Mark Sheppard.

[Laughter]

John: And by the way, we decided to make him- because we were cooking up a threat, and- we’ll actually continue talking about this in the next episode...

Chris: In the next episode.

Dean: Please stay tuned for the second part of this.

Chris: Stay tuned.

Dean: But this was a lot of fun, and thank you for listening to the first half. Stay tuned for part two.

#Leverage #Leverage TNT #Leverage Audio Commentary Transcripts #Audio Commentary #Transcripts #Parker #Alec Hardison #Elliot Spencer #Nate Ford #Sophie Deveraux #Season 2 #Episode 14 #Season 2 Episode 14 #The Three Strikes Job

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missdawnandherdusk · 4 years

Text

That Would Be Enough

Hufflepuff!Reader X Draco

Look at where you are

Look at where you started

The fact that you're alive is a miracle

Just stay alive, that would be enough

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4

Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8

Chapter 9 Chapter 10

Summary: Dumbledore is dead and the pieces start to fall apart or in to place...

A/n: Okay guys, this is a great chapter because you get to look into the past and into the future and also you get to see the loose ends start to tie themselves... who’s ready for this to end soon? Not me, but at least I’m figuring out how I want to end it. Also, my postings will be a bit more sporadic because I’m in college and have a job and so writing, though still fun takes energy that I rarely possess...

I stood and Draco was beside me. I looked to him frantically, wondering what was next. What would be next for the two of us?

There was hardly a moment to think for ourselves because beside us, Snape apparated into the foyer, causing my to jump in panic, into Draco’s arms. The professor seemed to take the sight of the two of us in, and something soft and sad was in his eyes before he recovered.

“Are you to unharmed?” He asked curtly. We nodded mutely.

Then the thought ran through my mind, or perhaps I had finally allowed myself to think it.

The man in front of us was a murderer.

The man in front of us saved Draco’s innocence. Something that I couldn’t even do.

My mind begged the question: was Snape good? All I could find were grey answers.

“Is it done?” Narcissa’s voice caught all of our attention.

“Yes,” Snape retorted. “And I expect the Dark Lord to be here any moment, so if you’d like to flee Miss Y/n, now would be the time,”

“I’m not running,” I declared defiantly—foolishly.

A loud crack sounded through the large Manor, and the air grew cold and foreboding. Draco registered what was occurring before I did. He protectively pushed me behind him as many more Death Eaters appeared around us until black flooded the green marble floors. They were all shouting in victory. They were all laughing and grinning. Even behind their masks, it wasn’t hard to understand their pure joy about the death of Dumbledore.

My fingers gripped Draco’s cloak as I went numb, by choice or perhaps not. My mind shut down and had gone to autopilot. One look in Draco’s eyes and I knew that he had as well. His hand still found mine, however. That was one thing, even numb, that would never change. Narcissa came behind me, holding my shoulders—comfortingly or defensively, I wasn’t sure.

One thing broke Draco’s perfect mask and made Narcissa gasp in terror. The sight of Lucius. I could barely make out a clear image of his father, only the long silver blond hair that I knew well. On the cold ground, Lucius looked desperately to something—someone.

The Dark Lord.

I could not mistake this being for anyone else. The creature that haunted my dreams and plagued my reality. Not meters from me. His cruelty revealed everything.

I had never seen the Dark Lord happy, but a gruesome smile distorted his ghastly face. My grip on Draco’s hand was so tight that my nails dung into his skin. If I had control, I would have lessened the pressure, but the control no longer belonged to me. Instead it belonged to the beast in long dark robes with blood red eyes.

Words left his lips, but I had no power to listen. It wasn’t until other people acted upon me that I had any reaction to the events around me.

Draco held firmly to my arm and Narcissa to my shoulders, refusing to let me go. To let me be pulled into the circle of Death Eaters next to Lucius.

“Ah, ah,” The Dark Lord refuted gently. “Come, bring the girl,”

Narcissa’s hands left regretfully and Draco met my eyes, terrified before he let me go too.

I was shoved into the middle of the circle of Death Eaters, wand gripped tightly in my hand. Before me, I could finally see Lucius—looking more ghostly than I had ever seen him, frail and defenseless. A storm of emotions overwhelmed me. Anger overpowered the others. He had hurt so many of the ones I loved. Not fifteen years ago did he kill me father in the same room.

Maybe I’d have the pleasure of vengeance after all.

“A gift for you my dear,” Voldemort purred, as if to read my thoughts. “I heard you were marvelous in using the Cruciatus Curse on Precious Potter, and I wonder if you’d like to display you skills again?”

My eyes flashed from hallow grey eyes to vivid red ones.

“You want me to...” my voice wavered. My anger fizzled out.

“Well of course, you did aid dear Draco in his mission, and were quite marvelous, I thought it might only be fitting to reward you,” His false kindness eerily swept through me, leaving me in uncertain ground. “Just think of all of the hurt Lucius has caused you. He murdered your father, abused the one you love for years and still he kneels there on the ground loathing you,”

In my mind I saw the death of my father again. The fruitless pleas that fell from his lips. The bright green flash that ended his life.

Tears stung my eyes as my gaze fell upon Lucius again.

Then I saw a shade of Draco in those troubled grey eyes: The night of the third trial and the absolute dread in Draco’s eyes. The night of the ball as this man spoke coldly to him. The breakdown Draco had not a month later. The need for healing potions to be on hand. All because of the man before me.

My lip quivered as the tears fell silently. But then my memories shifted.

To Draco chasing after me at the ball. Or the day we first kissed that summer. Seeing him on the train. The day he defended me from Umbridge. Every smile and every tear. The nights when he broke and the days when he was put back together.

That was so much more valuable than my hatred for Lucius.

Then my eyes met Narcissa’s. They were frozen in shock and fear. I could see the desperate pleas in them to spare her husband’s life. A woman who went through two wars, desperate to keep her family together. Losing one sister to insanity and another to disownment. Losing a husband to hatred and a son to darkness. A woman who welcomed me with opened arms because she believed that I could pull her family back together, even for a little while. She had faith in me. In the kindness and goodness in me.

That was so much more valuable than my hatred for Lucius.

“Crucio,” I whispered, the spell taking no effect on the man before me.

“Like you mean it my dear!” The Dark Lord encouraged. “Let out all of your hatred and anger! Every wrongdoing, every lie, every injustice!”

“Crucio!” I called out louder and still there was little effect. The circle of Death Eaters around me snickered, mocking me.

“She has had a long day My Lord,” Snape spoke up. “Perhaps she will be better suited in the morning after a night’s rest,”

Voldemort’s blood red eyes peered at me, but I was at peace. There was no thought for him to have. My mind was plate glass. A reflection for him to gaze upon.

“Perhaps,” The Dark Lord echoed. “Take her out of my sight,”

Again, I was grabbed and thrown hastily out of the circle and into not Draco’s arms, but Narcissa’s. There were tears in her eyes and a kind smile on her face as she led me upstairs to Draco and my shared room.

“Thank you,” She wrapped me up tightly in a hug. “That was a kindness I didn’t deserve,”

“My love for you and Draco outshines any malice I have towards Lucius,” I whispered. “You’re my family, and family sticks together,”

She pressed a kiss to my forehead and cradled me close. Tears fell down her face as soft sobs wracked her frame. There was a knock on the door causing us both to jump. Narcissa wiped her eyes quickly and composed herself opening the door only to meet Snape.

“They’ve gone, he requires medical attention,” His voice was soft and curt.

Without hesitation, I rushed to Draco’s bathroom grabbing three vials: healing, thoughts, and anxiety. I brushed past Snape and Narcissa, heading down the stairs to where Draco was cradling his father, unshed tears in his eyes.

“Here,” I knelt beside him, uncorking the first vial.

Draco and I worked like a well-oiled machine as the potions took their affect onto his father. Some color returned to his deathly face. Snape and Narcissa both had their wands drawn, casting healing and protection spells of their own. Lucius’ breathing became steady and no longer did he look like a corpse. Though he looked aged, he looked human.

“Thank you,” Narcissa murmured, stroking Lucius’ hair from his face. “You two get to bed,” she ordered softly.

“Y/n,” Snape called before I ascended the stairs. “The Dark Lord will be waiting for you to torture Lucius. He will not let you fail in this attempt.”

“I... I can’t do it. I never wanted to do it in the first place to Harry,” I confessed, my voice rasping.

“You must.” Snape rose. “For the sake of your life and for Draco’s. This is a different game now.”

I nodded and took Draco’s hand, rushing up the stairs and into the safety of our room. Like his mother had, Draco wrapped me up into his arms and only then did I realize I was shaking rather violently. I didn’t feel panicked, but my body said otherwise.

“Thank you,” He pressed a kiss to the top of my head. “You were kind in ways that I never could have been,” It seemed that the only even that either of us could process at the moment had been the past few minutes.

“I couldn’t do it. Not when I looked in his eyes and saw you,” I whispered into his shoulder.

“What are you going to do?” He asked. “You... the Dark Lord isn’t going to...”

“I know,” I sighed. “I don’t know what to do. But I won’t cast another Unforgivable.”

“Maybe it’s time for you to leave,” his words held a softness as he cupped my face. “To keep you safe.”

“I can’t leave you here, Draco,” I refuted. “I won’t go. I have to show them I won’t be broken. I won’t let hatred win,”

“Do you understand how dangerous this is?” His words became curt. “You could be killed for showing any disloyalty.”

“I know, I know,” I dismayed. “But I won’t run. I won’t be a coward... and I have nowhere to go...” There was nowhere that I could go that I knew wouldn’t be a target or a suspect for hiding me.

Draco huffed and ran a hand through his hair anxiously.

“Okay,” He gave in. “We should get to bed,”

“Dray,” I groaned. “This is my path as much as it’s yours. Please don’t push me away.”

“I’m just trying to keep you alive,”

“My life isn’t my own anymore. I’ll willingly die for the good,” As soon as the words left my mouth my thoughts flashed to my father. “That’s why he did it.” I marveled mostly to myself. “That’s why my father wasn’t afraid of death,”

Draco stroked my cheek softly, the warmth in his grey eyes proving that Lucius would never be the man that Draco was.

Silence fell over us. Our minds, in sync, went mute. The phantoms of last summer guided us tonight. The warm silky water of a bath in his porcelain tub. The comforting scents of florals and memories. A trail of cloaks, robes, and clothes followed us to the bathroom and into the tub. My locket laid beside his family ring on the marble counter. His hands draped the water over my chilled skin, massaging away the tension in my muscles.

A year ago, there had been one mark on the two of us, now it seemed that there was no end to where our damage and scars were. And yet I didn’t feel shattered. I didn’t feel broken. Silent streams of tears trailed down our cheeks. They weren’t just of fear and anger, but perhaps also of relief and hope. What we dreaded had been done, now there were pieces to pick up. There was something to do. It wasn’t the brightest direction, but it was direction.

The shine of the moonlight reflected off of Draco’s eyes as we laid together in the comfort of clean cotton sheets. My fingers carded through the silver gossamer of his hair. I slipped into slumber in the comfort of the storms of his grey eyes.

My dreams were vividly bizarre. Trails of what ifs. Of almosts. Of what could have been.

A bright green flash coming from Draco’s wand. Coming from my wand. Draco dead in my arms. The last glimpses of life as I laid in Draco’s arms. Harry staring us both down, defending Dumbledore. Pinnae flying away in the night to a small home in the Grecian countryside and never looking back. Pinnae falling, falling, falling, flightless. Down from the Astronomy tower and to the cold unforgiving ground below.

A soft unintelligible mumble pulled me away from the free fall down. I was steadied. I was wrapped in comfort. I was draped in soft blankets and warm arms.

“Just a dream,” Draco slurred sleepily, his eyes not opening. “You’re okay,”

I hummed a response and curled back onto his chest, settling back into sleep.

___________________________

“He’s not going to forget her,” Severus huffed, pacing the room. “Y/n will have to prove herself,”

“I know,” Narcissa sighed, sitting beside her husband.

Lucius had not yet woken since he had been healed, and though Narcissa knew that he was not on the verge of death any longer, his health was still failing.

“She’s just a child,” Narcissa insisted hopelessly. “She has no business in all of this,”

“She doesn’t have a choice anymore Narcissa!” Severus declared. “She chose this path. She chose to stand beside Draco, and this is where that road leads!”

Silent tears fell down her cheeks, lost in a memory.

“It’s not safe for you Cissa,” Lucius’ voice was quiet and urgent. “Go now, before it’s too late,”

“I’m not leaving you,” Her stubbornness might kill her one day, but she wasn’t giving up on him.

“The Dark Lord will kill you, and I can’t lose you my darling,” Lucius stroked her cheek softly, “You’re too important,”

“Then you know why I must stay,” She closed her eyes leaning into his touch.

“Please,” Lucius begged. “If not for your life, then for Draco’s. He’s just a babe.”

“This family will stay together,” Tears stung her eyes. “He needs his father as much as he needs his mother,”

“You’re not going to like who his father becomes,” The whisper was barely heard. “Please Cissa,”

She shook her head, tears running down her cheeks and into his hands.

“She knows that,” Narcissa answered softly. “More than anything she knows the consequences of her choice.”

“And how can you be so sure?” Severus demanded.

“Because she was me,” Her fingers trailed down Lucius’ face gently. “I never thought I’d have to live through another war—to walk through another one with him,” She paused and turned to Severus. “But Y/n knows what she’s doing.”

“Then why are you so adamant on protecting her?” He demanded.

“For the same reason you are,” It could have been an accusation, but it wasn’t. It was sad and soft. Hopeless in a way.

“We can’t protect her in a desperate chance to change the past, Narcissa,” It was just as hopeless.

“But we can try, can’t we?”

Lucius’ hand was ice cold in hers. His body was still riddled with Dark Magic and his time in Azkaban had not aided it one bit. There used to be an inkling of warmth in his skin, but now, it had vanished.

“You’re welcome to stay,” She offered. “The invitation is always open,”

A quiet beat passed.

“I will.” Severus answered. “He’ll need more looking after. And so will she,”

“She will make it Severus,” Narcissa pressed as he went to exit the room.

“That’s what he said about Lily,”

In the morning, Narcissa found you and Draco curled up together in bed, still sound asleep though the hour was becoming closer to afternoon than morning. She didn’t dare to rouse you two. If you could manage to sleep, she’d let you.

When you were finally awake and presentable, both eating in the kitchen, Narcissa could see the determination and uncertainty in your eyes as well as the familiar unease in Draco’s. You two were having the same disagreement that she and Lucius had. Draco no doubt wanted you to hide away, to be safe. And Narcissa knew that leaving was the last thing that you were going to do.

“When do you think he’ll be back?” Your voice was small as you cradled your mug in your hands.

“It’s hard to say,” Severus answered. “Time doesn’t work the same for the Dark Lord. It could be hours; it could be days.”

You nodded and leaned against Draco. It made her heart soar when she watched the two of you together. Draco’s comforting and protective nature that came out for you. And the trust you had in her son. It made Narcissa believe that she might have done something right after all these years to see her son this contented.

“Come,” Narcissa smiled softly, offering her hand to you. “You should learn how to heal Dark Magic,”

Wide-eyed, you followed Narcissa up the stairs, Draco shadowing you both, and into her bedroom where Lucius was still sleeping. Leading you beside the bed, Narcissa drew her wand.

“The easiest is medicari,” She instructed. “It will heal any physical wounds. The deeper the wound the more times you should repeat the spell,” You two nodded softly.

“To cleanse dark magic from the bloodstream or body—expurgatio” Narcissa turned to Lucius and brushed a stray lock of hair from his face as she cast the spell. Under her wand tip drew forth an inky blackness from his chest.

“A lighting charm, my dear,” Narcissa instructed.

You drew your wand and cast the charm, drawing it near to the darkness at the tip of her own wand.

“Dark Magic, after drawn from the body and exposed to light—” you watched as the ink vanished. “—has nothing it can do but run and hide,”

Draco’s face held an air of thought as you remained quiet in thought for a moment. Narcissa could see that you were trying to form your words in such a manner that they made sense, and that they didn’t draw you into a breakdown. Draco’s hand slipped into yours. Your thumb gently traced the scar that ran along the back of his hand.

“Snape...” You began, “He—he used a spell. It sounded like song... when he was healing Draco,”

“The Song of The Lost Soul, yes.” Narcissa sighed softly. “It is not an easy feat to cast such a spell. Whereas many spells are one or a few words, The Song of The Lost Souls requires perfect cadence and pronunciation to be of any aid. If not, it is rendered useless.”

“But if it works?” You asked, curious, hope in your eyes and voice. “It’s one of the most powerful healing spells known to wizards.”

“I want to learn it,” Your determination didn’t surprise Narcissa in the slightest. A smile graced her face at the sight of your eagerness.

“In due time, my dear. For now, why don’t we begin with expurgatio,”

Slowly but surely, with each time you cast the Cleansing spell, your wand gripped more and more of the dark magic that plagued Lucius blood stream. Draco would touch a Lighting charm to the Dark Magic, and it would flee every time. After a while you paused and went quiet.

“I don’t want to have to hurt him,” the confession was soft from your lips. “But if I don’t...” Your eyes met Draco’s a hopeless expression on your face.

“I understand, my love,” Narcissa comforted. “I’ve walked in your shoes before. I know the sacrifices and choices you must face.” She took your hand and smiled softly. “You have a kind soul. A strong soul.” With a soft breath in she continued. “I taught you these spells, not only to aid you in your oncoming battles in this war, but also to let you know that whatever is done, may be undone.”

You processed the words, your eyes growing in realization. “You mean... you want me to...”

“Mother,” Draco’s brows furrowed, surprised himself.

“I don’t will it, no.” She confessed. “But I understand why it must be done. Stars above know the things I was forced to do to gain the respect I have among the Death Eaters...” She looked down at Lucius, “Though I do not think you are aiming for their respect nor should you, I do believe that it will be a comfort to know you won’t be killed.”

“I... I don’t even know if I can,” Your voice broke as your gaze dropped to Draco’s hand in yours. “All I see when I look at him, is you two... and I can’t... I can’t imagine hurting either of you.”

“That is not what the Cruciatus Curse entails, Miss Y/n,” Severus spoke, spooking you a bit as you jumped a bit and Draco’s arm wrapped around you protectively on reflex.

Severus stood from the armchair accompanying the window and neared the bed.

“The Cruciatus Curse was originally meant as a way for a wizard or witch to alleviate all of their anger and frustrations. It was a spell directed at the stars, never at a soul, never at another man. Of course, it became distorted over the year unto what it is now, but I digress,” The tone was familiar to Narcissa, and it seemed to you two as well—a formal teaching tone.

“So... I don’t... I don’t have to hate the person I use the Curse on?” You squeaked, your eyebrows drown in confusion and revelation.

“Not particularly, though it does help.” Severus took a tight breath in.

“But... in the bathroom... I used it on Harry,”

“And you were scared and angry,” Narcissa comfortingly placed a hand over yours. “All of your frustrations and fears that had been growing over those months were let out on Harry. Not that you loathed him specifically, but he was on the receiving end of your fury.”

____________________________

“So, I can cast the Curse with no intention of wanting to harm the person I’m casting it on?” Disbelief colored my tone. “How is that in any way safe? Or fair?”

“It’s not my dear,” Narcissa replied. “Which is the reason the ancients deemed it Unforgivable.”

“And I think you’ve seen that first-hand,” Snape remarked. “Though he is quite loathsome at times, I don’t truly believe that you hate Potter,”

“Debatable,” I muttered, causing Draco to chuckle beside me.

“You don’t,” Draco murmured in my ear. “Because I know you. You’re too kind,”

“He probably hates me,” My voice was weak and small. “You should have seen his face...” Worrying my lip, Draco pulled me in closer.

“Potter is very hot headed and impulsive,” Snape tried to comfort. “And he has no authority over you either,”

“But he’s the chosen one,” I protested, miserable. “Everyone cares about his opinion and what he thinks,”

“I think you’d find a few flaws in that statement,” A smile barely touched Snape’s lips. “You were quite the leader yourself in school. The students were just as willing to follow you as they were Potter,”

“Me?” I squeaked, my mind reeling. “But I’m just me. I’m not special. I’m not the chosen one. I’m just a bloody Hufflepuff for Merlin’s sake!”

“And that’s what everyone adores about you,” Draco interjected softly. “Though I’d like to go on record saying you’re extraordinarily special,” A smile played at his lips. “But things aren’t handed to you like they are Potter. You never had the advantage, and when you did, you used it to rescue the underdog,”

“Draco is right, the Slytherins are quite fond of you,” Snape’s eyes narrowed. “Sometimes I wonder why you weren’t one,”

“Anything’s better than Slytherin,” I muttered without thinking.

Draco laughed beside me, pressing a kiss to my temple. “There’s my Y/n,” He murmured softly. “I was getting a little worried there,”

The day was spent nursing Lucius back to health as best that Draco and I could. My trial of the Unforgivable forgotten for the moment. And I prayed that it would never come.

When Lucius’ cold grey eyes opened and landed on me, fear gripped my heart. But it was in vain. His hand reached out and covered mine as he nodded once, before closing his eyes once more in rest. Amity fell between us, knowing that there was forgiveness somewhere in my heart for him. Maybe it was a forgiveness that mirrored in Draco’s eyes as I sought him for reassurance.

“Happy birthday, love,” I whispered softly as the hour passed midnight as the two of us stared up at the stars.

“Don’t remind me,” He grumbled, causing me to laugh softly.

“And why not?” I mused, raising an eyebrow at him. “It’s not every day that you turn seventeen,”

“But you really wanna talk about it now?” He dismayed. “It’s not worth celebrating,”

“Look around Draco,” I pressed. “Look at how lucky we are to be alive right now,” Tears stung my eyes as I took his hand holding it tightly. “It’s more than enough to celebrate,”

He hung his head, closing his eyes, his shoulders rising with the deep breath that he took. Laying my head on his shoulder, I pressed to his side.

“It is enough,” He whispered softly, pulling me into his arms. “It’s more than enough,” His weak smile mirrored mine.

Draco’s hands came up and cupped my face softly, pulling me in for a calming kiss, sealing that us being alive was enough. That I was enough. That he was enough. That the quiet night with the fireflies and the stars watching over us was enough.

A letter came for me the next day from Prof—Lupin requesting me at the next Order meeting being held at Fleur and Bill’s cottage on the seaside not far from the Manor that night. The four of us debated whether or not it would be safe for me to go alone, knowing that I would be the only one allowed. And though Draco was hesitant, he urged me to go. A sadness lingered in Snape’s eyes at well, but he agreed. It was only Narcissa who had a qualm.

“They can track her Apparition,” She reasoned gently. “We need to keep the Order safe...” Her eyes met Snape’s, and something passed between them.

“I’ll fly,” I offered off hand. “No one will know that it’s me, and if they think I’m flying, then no one will be able to find me,”

“I’m not sure I follow,” Snape’s monotone voice seemed uninterested, but I could see that the questions burning behind his eyes.

“And that’s how it’ll have to be,” Draco took my hand, “Are you sure you can make the trip on your own?”

“You’re not coming with me, then we’ll be found,” I refuted the hope in his eyes. “I’ll have to go alone,”

And what Snape didn’t see was a white and bronze barn owl taking off toward the sunset, on her way to an Order meeting.

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

“Lupin?” I gasped out, steadying myself from my transformation.

“Sirius said that you were able to do that... didn’t give much away thought,” Lupin mentioned offhand, almost talking to himself. “What took you so long?”

“Long flight,” I muttered, leaning against the door jamb of the little house. “They can track Apparition. At least mine, I guess.”

“Really?” He seemed surprised.

I nodded and fidgeted with my sweater. “They all hate me, don’t they?”

“It’s quite divided actually,” A smile ghosted at his lips. “Those of us who know you, we don’t, but those who got the story from Harry on the other hand...”

I groaned in defeat and rubbed my face. Then I held my head high and nodded.

“Alright,” I concluded, “I’m not afraid to face the consequences of my actions.”

Lupin smiled warmly. “I can see why Sirius liked you.”

“You miss him,”

“Yes,” He paused then continued. “But there is more to life. I’m sure you understand that,”

“Yeah,” I whispered. “Do you think he would have been proud of me? My dad?” I was almost too afraid to ask.

“More than you could ever know,” Lupin appeased. “In fact, that’s why a lot of us are so divided about what to do with you, because your father was in the same situation with your mother,”

“My mother wasn’t a Death Eater,” I muttered. “That complicates things doesn’t it?”

Lupin stared at me like I had two heads. “Y/n, your mother is a Death Eater. Or she was in the first war.”

I froze. My eyes going wide. There must have been true panic or horror on my face because Lupin neared me, placing his hands on my shoulders.

“Y/n, breathe,” Lupin instructed. “I thought you knew,” A soft shake of my head declined his statement.

“Well, that changes things a bit...” Lupin muttered. “We need to talk to Moody,”

“Will you—give me a minute...” I squeaked out, sinking into a kitchen chair. I hung my head in my hands, wishing nothing more to find comfort in Draco’s arms. He would know what to do. He would know what to say.

“What is she doing here?” A snarled voice asked.

Lupin’s arm shot out, holding me back from going off on Harry. Or maybe he was protecting me from Harry. I didn’t know. I wasn’t paying attention. I was too shellshocked.

“She is a part of the Order,” Lupin defended sternly. “She has a rightful place here,”

“So, we’re going to ignore the fact that she aided the murder of Dumbledore!?” Harry shouted.

Silence fell.

“No,” I whispered softly. “I helped kill Dumbledore,” My voice was soft and broken and obviously not what Harry was expecting. “I helped kill Dumbledore. I’m in love with a Death Eater. I’m the daughter of a Death Eater. I’m the daughter of a member of the Order of the Phoenix. I’m the child of a Slytherin and a Hufflepuff. My father’s dead and my mother’s gone.”

I spoke mainly to myself, but loud enough for everyone else to hear. “And I know that,” My eyes met Harry’s. “So, what are you going to do about it? Berate me? Scream how I don’t belong here? How massively fucked up my life is? Is that what you’re here to tell me?” My voice stayed soft and calm. “Because believe me, I already know,”

My words sapped all of the anger from Harry and caught the attention of the other members of the Order as they filed into the small kitchen. “It’s not about what I am, or where I come from, or who my parents are. It’s what I’m going to do from here on out and what I’ve been trying to do all along.” Again, I met stubborn green eyes. “I’m going to save Draco Malfoy. I’m going to fight for good. And I’m not going to let anyone, or anything stop me,”

There was something I realized about Harry in that moment where we differed immensely. He had no restraint and he never hesitated. He was hot headed and made rash decisions. He took everything that was offered to him and then some. The game he plays he takes and raises stakes without anyone else’s consent. He had an endless uphill just as I did. He had something to prove and almost nothing to lose.

I had everything to lose. Everything that I fought to keep. Everything that I fought to have. If he could thrive in the middle of the struggle, then I’d wait for my time to thrive.

I was willing to wait for it.

________________________________

“You think I don’t know what I’m doing!?” He roared, near tears. Remus placed a hand on his shoulder and Sirius held James back. “What would you do for Lily, Potter?” He straightened, shaking off Remus.

“My wife isn’t on the wrong side of the war!” James spat.

“It’s easy to love those who love you isn’t it? It’s easy to love the good, isn’t it Potter!?” The words held ice shards. “You think you’d understand. You’re a father as much as I am in this hell, you think I don’t want what’s best for my family!? What will keep them alive!?”

“Boys!” McGonagall shouted reprimanding them. “You two are acting like children. We are on the same side of the war here and unless we work together, we’re not going to survive.” Her stern look silenced them both.

“Walt,” Alice reached out as he went to leave, shifting a small bundle of sleeping blankets in her arms, “Please, we do want you here,” Frank came up behind her, reaching out for him.

“She’s right, Walt.” Frank affirmed. “You deserve your place here with the rest of us,”

“Thank you,” He nodded. “But I need to get home to Elizabeth and hope Y/n hasn’t been giving her too much trouble,” The fire had left from his voice and weariness remained.

The Longbottom’s nodded as he set out into the night, apperating back home. The small farmhouse in the outskirts of town welcomed him home more than any consoling word from the Order ever could. He knew that the two people he loved more than anything in the world were inside that farmhouse. The two people who never questioned him or denied his loyalty.

“Walt?” Elizabeth’s voice chimed up from the nursery.

“Yes, it’s me,” Maybe he didn’t hide his weariness well enough because a soft concerned look was on her face as she met him in the hallway.

“Maybe her and I should...” Elizabeth trailed off. “You wouldn’t have to...”

“You think I’d walk out on you? On our darling girl?” Walter shook his head and pulled his bride into his arms, tucking her head under his chin. “You two are worth more than a war,”

“I love you,” Her voice was broken as she clung to him, unshed tears in both of their eyes.

The soft cry of a babe broke their moment. Walter neared the crib to see a little pouting face start to snivel.

“Oh, now what is the matter?” He cooed softly gathering the child into his arms. “I’m right here sweetheart,”

Rocking her softly, her cries quieted, and large innocent eyes stared up at him. It was those eyes that made everything that James said, or Sirius muttered worth it. Those deep and trusting eyes that held wonder and love in their naivete.

Elizabeth placed a soft hand on his shoulder, and he turned, for the first time seeing the exhaustion on her face. He knew that no matter how harsh James was or how many times he came home feeling defeated, his love had a harder battle to fight. One that wasn’t built on love, and trust, and goodness. But wickedness, cruelty, and evil. He loathed having to see her bare that burden on her shoulders.

“I’ll put her down for the night,” He whispered softly. “You go on to bed. I’ll be there in a moment,”

Alone with his child in a quiet room on a peaceful night, he began to hum softly. He sang of sunshine and happiness in the midst of grey stormy days. When he looked into those eyes he knew for sure that no amount of Dark Magic would affect her soul that was laid bare in her gaze.

And her eyes went from wonder and awe to peace and slumber. Placed in her crib and warded by protection spells and charms and talisman, he headed to his Elizabeth.

She was combing through her long hair, sitting at the mirror in the bathroom. He came up behind her and rubbed her shoulders softly, pressing a kiss to the crown of her head.

“How are you feeling?” He murmured softly.

“A little drained, but since having Y/n, and because Narcissa has her little Draco now, they seem very adamant to protect the two of us... you should see Severus stand up against him. He knows that Narcissa and I shouldn’t be doing Dark Magic... then Regulus backs him up and...” She went quiet, lost in the memory.

Curled up in bed, an amity fell over the house.

“Narcissa’s little Draco is just a darling,” Elizabeth spoke softly, curled up into his arms in bed. He could smell the florals and spice of her shampoo linger still in her long damp hair. “Such bright blue eyes. Just turned three months today,”

The days were gentle and calm, though fear came at the on every side. Some nights Walter would be left alone with his little girl, sometimes Elizabeth would. It depended on who had a meeting and where it was safe for their baby girl. And despite her kind nature, even barely a year old, there was worry underneath about what would become of her. It was new generation of Dark Magic, and branding. Two babes had been born from a parent with a Dark Mark, only little Y/n grew inside her mother who was riddled with Dark Magic. The other nurtured by a mother loyal to family.

The tiny babe wrapped in a soft pink knitted blanket had been cradled in Walter’s arms as the next Order meeting went on. Not that he paid much attention. His attention was divided between the warmth his darling offered, rocking her so that she stayed quiet, and then he gave half a mind to Dumbledore speaking about the Dark Lord. And in focusing on his babe, his mind wandered back to the innocence of his own childhood, of meeting his beloved Elizabeth.

She was draped in flowing green, looking as if she belonged in some high-end party, not a dance for grade school. It made his heart skip a beat when his eyes caught hers. Those eyes that held mystery and passion that he adored. They held secret study sessions in the library and elusive nights in the Astronomy Tower, desperate to keep their love a secret from their Houses and the other students.

“Go and talk to her,” Lily nudged his arm.

“You know why I can’t,” Walt sighed. “She’s a Slytherin,”

“Not all Slytherins are so bad...” Lily argued softly. “There’s hope for her too. For both of you,”

“You really think?” There was hope in his voice.

“Trust me,” Lily smiled, placing a hand on his shoulder. “She’ll love you being you.” Her eyes drifted to the crowd, finding a face that meant nothing to him but everything to her. “Go before you miss your chance. You’ve waited for her long enough,”

He heeded her words and made his way across the grand hall that was dressed for the holidays. She was standing with the Black sisters, two of which moved from his way, and one blocked him.

“What’s an ickle Hufflepuff doing here?” Bellatrix cackled. “You’re not wanted little badger,”

“Bellatrix,” Walter greeted politely. “I’m not here to entertain you, but rather ask for Miss Elizabeth to dance,”

The sisters turned to their honorary sister of House. Her cheeks flushed pink, but there was hope and joy shown in her eyes as she took his outstretched hand.

“Are you sure about this?” She whispered under her breath as he led to her to the dance floor.

“I’ve waited too long to show the rest of the world that I love you,” He affirmed, holding her close as the next waltz began.

Though he knew all eyes were on him and his love, he paid them no mind. Instead he focused on the scent of perfume that was mirrored in Amortentia. He focused on the sound of her pretty laugh and the way she threw her head back in joy. And more than anything he focused on those eyes that held his entire world.

“How long have you known?” Walter asked softly, stroking Elizabeth’s cheek.

“About a month,” She smiled, her hand cradling her stomach.

“Why didn’t you tell me? I would have come home,” There were tears in his eyes.

“I wrote to Dumbledore, but I know you my love, you’ll fight until this war is over,” Tear fell down her cheeks softly. “I’m not sorry,”

“Neither am I,” Walter let out a hopeless laugh as his tears fell, holding his bride close. “How are we supposed to raise a child—”

“Just stay alive, that would be enough,” Elizabeth wrapped her arms around him. “And if this child has a fraction of your smile... of your heart... that would be enough,”

“If they had a fragment of your mind... look out world,” Walter smiled, pressing his lips to her forehead. “That would be enough,”

“Walter?” Frank drew him from his thoughts, from the eyes of his baby girl. Alice mirrored his stance, a smaller bundle of blankets cradled in her arms.

“Will you be our Secret Keeper?” Frank asked with a solemn tone. We need to hide, we need to keep Neville safe,”

Walter nodded; determination mirrored in both father’s eyes.

________________________

My Dearest Andromeda,

I hope that this letter finds you well, and I hope that you will give me the time to read it. I have much to tell you and much to ask that I know I am not allowed nor owed, but I beg of you anyway.

I know that your daughter is now married to Remus Lupin, and to which I congratulate the union. I know that Lupin will be good to her. But that is not why I have written.

My Draco and Y/n are now in very deep with the Death Eaters and I fear for them as I feared for our lives through the first war. And perhaps you understand because you managed to erase yourself from our family and flourished regardless. And for that I apologize and esteem you for.

You remember as well as I do how much our Elizabeth loved Walter, and now by some miracle, their child has been placed in my care after Elizabeth carried out her orders from the Dark Lord to keep her Y/n safe from him. She writes to me even still, asking about her child and is comforted by my words of her success and prosperity, knowing that she can never come back to her daughter while the Dark Lord is alive.

Which is why I beg of you to offer a place for dear Y/n to come and stay. I have offered my home, but the Dark Lord has demanded that the Manor be the base for his Death Eaters, and I cannot allow Y/n to be drawn under such an influence. She is good and I know it in my heart, and you can see it in her eyes, but I fear greatly as to what should occur if the Dark Lord manipulates her any further. She is powerful and has potential and power for great good and evil.

Please dear Andromeda, for the sake of Walter and Elizabeth and the second chance that they both gave the three of us. For their child who was marked from birth as was mine.

Your sister,

Cissy

______________________________

Narcissa,

Remus and Nymphadora have told me much about Y/n and the fire she possess in her heart just as her parents did. I have fallen in love with a girl I have not met yet and still I feel as if I am responsible for her as I am for my own Nymphadora.

With a heavy heart I mourn the years lost between us, but I can rejoice that the legacy of Walter and Elizabeth change and alter your heart even still. My heart goes out to Elizabeth as it goes to her daughter, as it goes to you and your son.

She is welcome in my home while school is not in season for her. She will be safe and protected here from the Dark Lord and his claws. I have no doubt that Bellatrix is also a reason for fear in your heart as much as the Dark Lord is. I pray that you come to see the light, and though I know there is barely a hope, I pray that for Bellatrix as well.

Send her at first light my dear Narcissa,

Your sister,

Andy

____________________________

“I have another aunt?” Draco asked.

“Yes,” Narcissa sighed softly. “She was disowned by our parents because she was a blood- traitor, much as Sirius Black was.” A quiet moment. “You also have a cousin, Nymphadora Tonks,”

“Tonks is his cousin!?” I gaped. “Hufflepuff, Auror, Metamorphmagus, Tonks?”

“Yes,” Narcissa nodded, a smile playing at her lips. “It seems that you two have quite a bit in common now that I think about it,”

“And...she’ll be safe there?” Draco asked hesitantly, taking my hand.

“She’ll have a home while she isn’t at Hogwarts,” His mother affirmed. “Now that your father is feeling better and the Dark Lord has decided to make the Manor his headquarters. There may also be a chance that she can escape her fate with Lucius...”

“I can’t stay,” I murmured the realization.

“No, I’m afraid not, but not for the main reason you think my dear,” Narcissa consoled, piquing my interest. Draco and I exchanged a glance and turned back to her. “Whether you knew it or not, you and Draco and connected, since you were born,”

“I’m sorry, what?” We both demanded, looking at each other once more.

“It is quite amusing how fate played out, having you two come together like this but... yes. During the first war there were two babes born with parents holding the Dark Mark that survived. One was paternal, one maternal.” She gauged our reaction.

“But...that doesn’t mean anything... does it?” I asked timid.

“No one knew and no one still knows. It simply means that you two were both destined for something beyond the ordinary,”

“If... we were both born marked,” Draco spoke like he would while walking through a complex spell or potion. “And I have the Dark Mark... wouldn’t that mean that she’s marked for it as well? That fate...” He trailed off, his grey eyes holding fear and discomfort.

“I’m fated for the Dark Mark,” I understood what he couldn’t bring himself to say. “And if I stay here...”

“Your fate would be sealed,” Narcissa sighed softly. “Which is why I need you to go to my sister, and stay away so that you might avoid this,”

I nodded and took Draco’s hand in mine

“I love you,” I whispered softly, just for him. “And I’m not afraid. I know who I chose,”

“As long as you come back to me,” He nodded.

Wrapped up tightly into his arms, I breathed in deeply, the last time I would be comforted by his arms until September. The beginning of the first chapter I had to write on my own until I found my way back to him.

Epilogue:

“Thank you, for your hospitality,” My voice held a soft tone, already missing Draco’s warmth.

“Of course, my dear,” Andromeda smiled. “Come,”

She showed me to a spare room that I assumed used to be Tonks’ because even cleaned up, I could see the chaos of her style linger still.

And though I thought I’d never make it through a night alone, let alone three months, somehow, they passed. Like the slow ticking of a clock that didn’t bother to mock me. Instead there was something reminiscent about the summer. Of writing letters to Draco and waiting for his to arrive. To be in a small home filled with happy memories and warmth of muggle books and films and music. It left me in tears more than I cared to admit, because it was something that I never thought would be mine again.

Something I didn’t know that I was waiting for, nor longing for.

Something that made three months seems like mere months, not an eternity waiting.

Chapter 12

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moonlit-imagines · 4 years

Text

Headcanons for being Tony Stark’s Daughter (The Intense Years)

Tony Stark x daughter!reader

warnings:

a/n: y/n is 16-17, also ive really never written anything about team iron man so this was weird, someone needs to tell me i dont need every single movie detail in here

prompt: takes place from cacw and smhc

The Early Years (1) The Teenage Years (2) The Aftermath (4) Continued (5)

after the events in sokovia, you set up the relief fund for displaced sokovians and dealt with physical clean up while the avengers...

well, they had to deal with the press—and the governments of the world

getting to know your new suit AI, JOSHUA

briefly looking for bruce; no luck there

you ended up doing the MIT september foundation presentation with tony

and ending the presentation after pepper’s name popped up on the screen

“it’s probably best we get out of here”

you were his entire support system while he was going through his break with pepper

meeting charles spencer’s mother, who really gave your dad a piece of her mind

“my son died, but your daughter gets to live on. if you lost her, maybe you’d show some sympathy for murdering my child”

*awkward silence from you*

*awkward silence from tony otw to the compound*

HATING the sound of the sokovia accords, yet understanding why they’re being ratified

being torn between signing them or not and having a huge argument with the other avengers

“y/n, why dont you listen to your dad for once and sign the damn thing”

“uncle rhodey, you know why i dont want to sign. if they have us, they have access to our suits. you really think the UN should be telling us how to use them?”

“your defense doesn’t even make sense. i had the war machine or iron patriot or whatever the hell you want to call it, but the military was calling the shots”

“and look where you are now”

“right, well i wouldn’t expect a kid to understand”

“are you kidding me, rhodes? you’re gonna play the ‘im older than you’ card?”

comforting wanda while she feared being taken

and as soon as you heard about what happened in lagos

“think about it, maximoff. if you didnt do what you did, do you know how many more casualties there may have been?”

“but i killed innocents”

“no, rumlow killed innocents. you contained that blast better than anyone else could have and you prevented a whole bunch of deaths, give yourself some credit”

okay, so you weren’t the best at talking someone down while they were upset

staying in berlin with your father while the whole bucky thing began to get sorted out

but he sent you out to stay with nat while he had some “private time” with steve

tony keeping you close to him during the power outage at the base

until it turned out you brought your suit and tony did not!

everyone was looking at you to take down bucky, but it just seemed like a bad idea, you didn’t want to hurt him because you didn’t want to hurt steve

stalling to try and buy steve time to subdue his friend

“y/n, come on, for christ sake!”

“got it, dad! i know what im doing!”

“i dont think you do!”

feeling your stomach drop when bucky shot into your dad’s hand, if it wasn’t for his latest invention, he may have gotten seriously hurt

you had a slight change of heart after that, you couldn’t bare to lose your dad. not after all those close calls...

getting yelled at by secretary ross and the wonderful 36 hour ultimatum you, nat, and tony received

“i have a plan”

“don’t say the spider boy”

“fine, i wont say it”

a nice trip to queens :)

when this parker kid finally got home, tony left you to socialize with his aunt

small talk is sometimes unbearable

“so, what’s it like being tony stark’s daughter?”

“honestly? im always tired”

peter becoming a tagalong on your mission, which you didn’t really think was appropriate

“dad, i dont really think we should’ve brought the kid...”

“why? you’re about the same age as him, its not much different”

“um...no, i meant this isnt his battle. i don’t care how old he is”

face off between tony and cap where you literally just swallowed all your pride and apologized because you couldn’t handle the fact that the team was being ripped apart like this

team ups with Spider-Man

“so, uh, do you hate me or something?”

“hey, kid? we’re kind of in the middle of something, i’ll get back to you on that”

“it’s a yes or no question, y/n”

“pass”

so, things didn’t exactly go as planned...

your (former) teammates were taken to the RAFT and you couldn’t pull it together in front of them

they were pretty pissed at you

“im sorry, im so sorry, i should’ve done better”

they ignored you (up until scott lang)

“all you stark’s are the same”

“stay out of this, bugboy”

taking to the remote hydra base in another famous father/daughter teamup

“just like the old days, right kiddo?”

“i guess so”

“hey, cheer up, it’s not all that bad”

waltzing right in there to meet your friend and foe

seeing the video of your grandparents dying

*being killed

absolutely stunned by seeing such a gruesome thing

even after all you’ve seen, this really got to you

you were robbed of ever meeting them, which made you angry, but you couldn’t stay angry because there were so many things out of everyones control

realizing that this was a good time to hold tony back

“JOSHUA, lock down y/n’s suit. protocol: baby gate”

apparently your dad still had some old protocols in your suit that you hadn’t found yet

“JOSHUA? reboot! override protocol: baby gate”

“i’m sorry, miss y/n, but i cannot do that”

watching your father attempt to get revenge

and get critically injured

simultaneously working on opening the suit back up for a bad plan

finally getting the emergency release and stumbling out of your suit, rushing towards the conflict and throwing yourself in the middle of it

“please, dad. enough damage has been done.”

“y/n, get out of the way”

he saw you shaking and crying and he realized what he was doing

attacking the only family you guys really had

getting shoved out of the way so that they could end this fight once and for all

JOSHUA finally rebooting and bringing the suit over to shield you while you helplessly watched the end of this fight

when bucky and steve left, your suit disarmed and you crouched down beside your father

“come on, let’s just go home”

“im sorry”

“i know, it’s okay”

trying to comfort your dad after his defeat

you picked up cap’s shield and returned to your suit, it was time to go home

after a brief time of recovery (while you helped work on uncle rhodey’s prototype prosthetics), there was a slight change of plans for you

“okay, so for your punishment after what you pulled during my...divorce with cap, you’re going to babysit the spiderling so you gain some perspective”

“hold on, what?! what do you mean ‘perspective?’”

“i mean you dont know what it’s like to be in charge of the life of a teenager, so now you get to find out! congratulations on your promotion!”

it was not fun at all because peter kept blowing up your phone and you kept having to tell him there was nothing for him to do

Y/N: I’ll let you know when there’s a spider-level threat, kapeesh?

P. Parker: Yes, ma’am, sorry.

peter going behind your back to do some “superhero work”

and you having to swoop in to fix everything last second

“come on, you stole my thunder, y/n!”

“no, peter, i saved your life. next time you have a lead, call me first”

and then he didn’t 😌✨💕

“Y/N, incoming call from ‘big fat meanie’”

“put him through, JOSHIE...hey dad, how’s dubai?”

“taking care of a kid is harder than it looks, isn’t it?”

“don’t start with me”

damage control ahahah 🤡

“peter, why cant you just call me in? you don’t stop texting me for months but for this you go radio silent? you almost died. and you put a bunch of lives in danger! do you want me to have to go to your aunt and tell her you died?”

“im sorry! i just...i dont want to be a sidekick”

“kid, you’re gonna have a long time to make a name for yourself...but not if you’re dead!”

he started crying and you were very uncomfortable so you tried to hug him? it helped.

letting him off easy (just like your dad did to you growing up)

but apparently tony came back and took the suit anyways and you were pretty pissed about it

avengers moving day :) yes, part of your punishment was helping happy with moving day and hearing him gush about how you were “growing into such a responsible adult”

“happy i dont know if you noticed but ive basically been an adult since i was 12”

“keep telling yourself that, kiddo”

seeing an explosion and immediately knowing it was peter

“i’ll see you later, happy, love you!”

investigating the crash site and whaddaya know, there’s peter and his first bad guy, you were kind of proud

“peter, you okay?”

“nope!”

“okay, cool”

more damage control lmao (a/n: yall sick of damage control yet?)

a congratulatory call from your dad

“hey! you did pretty good, all things considered. why don’t you take the kid to the avengers compound for his special surprise?”

“aye aye, see you soon.”

“love you, kiddo”

“you too, dad”

quick fast forward to peter rejecting the position as an avenger while the press was outside, yes, you were surprised

but then your dad finally proposed to pepper, it was a pretty cool engagement announcement

“y/n, will you be my maid of honor?”

“duh!”

happily ever after (a/n: until the next part is up)

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doctorthreephds · 4 years

Text

Synapses: Part 3

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

WC: 4.8k

TW: Mentions of death and drugs--specifically from the episode Demonology

A/N: Hey! Just a forewarning, the forensic techniques in this are complete speculation from what I know and they are probably not accurate at all.

Summary: After starting your new job and getting closer to Spencer, you find yourself having your first fight with your new friend when the anniversary of your mother’s death approaches.

Masterlist

Taglist: @obsssedwithjustaboutanything @green-intervention @eevee0722

Starting your new job was hard, like all things, but enjoyable. The first few days were learning the ropes and the area and you often came home exhausted, tired from a long day’s work in a lab you were unfamiliar with. The little things were what kept you going. Every day, you made an effort to eat lunch with your father--leftovers or food to go from a nearby restaurant or deli. When your father went away on his case, you spent time with Penelope in her bat cave. It was fun to hang out with her, spouting comedic rhetoric whenever someone called her for advice.

“Please don’t eat near the merchandise, baby, it’s my money maker,” she states, typing away at the speed of light as someone rings in. “Information highway speaking, you’re on speaker with me and the good doctor.”

You snort and let out a small laugh as you silently dig into your takeout box of chow mein.

“The good doctor? I thought that was me,” you hear Spencer speak up from the phone and smile, lifting your chopsticks to your mouth.

“You’ve been replaced, Dr. Reid. Sorry!” you say before taking another bite of the noodles.

“What are you doing--”

“Stay on track, boy genius. What do you need from me?” Penelope asks and you zone out, not wanting to listen into the details of the gruesome murders they were investigating. While your job sometimes involved dead bodies, you were in fact eating lunch and wanted to keep your lunch down for the rest of the day. After they were finished, you could hear them wrapping up and you inserted a final goodbye.

“Bye Spencer! I’ll see you soon,” you state as the phone beeps to signal that the call has ended.

“See him soon?” Penelope spins around as she fiddles with a pink pen with a puffball on the end that almost matches the pink blush on your face.

“I mean I’ll see him when the case ends,” you mumble and toss your takeout box into her trash, taking a sip from your water bottle.

“Hm, I’m sure that’s what you meant,” she smiles and turns back to her computer, typing something up. “If you need any info on him, I can tell you anything you want to know, sweets.”

“I’m not gonna do that, it’s an invasion of privacy,” you stand and check your watch, it’s about time for you to get back to work. “But if anything comes up, I’ll let you know.”

Other times, when your father was too busy to entertain you, you would eat with the others--or more specifically, Spencer. Travelling up to the sixth floor, you check to see if Spencer is anywhere nearby. When you deduce that he is nowhere near, his plush office chair becomes your new home as you open up your bag and grab the tupperware full of salad while you wait for his arrival. Opening the small container, you poke at the leaves with your fork and make a face when you see that they’re soggy and limp.

“Have a salad today?” he asks as you look at the sad lettuce in your small tupperware container.

“Yeah. Although, it doesn’t look very appetizing,” you state and put it down on his desk, looking up at the cup of coffee in his hand that looked far more delicious than the monstrosity that was sad salad.

“Did you know that salad comes from the latin word ‘herba salta’ which means ‘salted herbs,’ so perhaps you don’t have enough salt on your herbs,” he states and you bark out a laugh, shaking your head as you close the container and put it away.

“Any more salt and my blood pressure’s gonna be at risk. Wanna grab lunch at the deli?” you ask and stand. He nods as the two of you exit the bullpen, taking the elevator down.

This was your schedule, and you loved it. It didn’t take that long for you to build a good relationship with everyone, constantly checking in on their lives outside of Quantico. Emily was doing well with Sergio, Henry was growing at a rate that JJ couldn’t comprehend, Penelope was still going out with Kevin, and you and Spencer were often found hanging out on the weekends when he wasn’t called away for a case.

You found it odd how easily you took to Spencer, how his fun facts were always there to brighten up every conversation and his constant pursuit of knowledge was admirable. He took you to his favorite bookstore as well as his favorite used bookstore that he frequented in hopes of finding first editions and original copies. He also would take you to his favorite park, the one that he went to so that he could play chess and he would always win. It wasn’t always about him, though, you loved taking him to go see new movies as opposed to the older and foreign ones that he enjoyed. The two of you also committed to trying new foods together. With his sensory issues and your picky nature, you both embarked on a journey to eat new foods in hopes of finding something new and delicious.

While your new found friendship was almost perfect in the way that you committed yourselves, it too could not come without ups and downs. The first bump came when you helped consult on an unofficial case, something that had happened with Emily’s close friends. It was only a few days before the anniversary for your mother’s death and you were running on fumes.

“Hello?” you ask sharply, pouring over several reports that were due soon. Your temper was short today and you just wanted to go home.

“Hey it’s Spencer. Are you okay?” he asks and you sigh, rubbing your temples in frustration.

“Yeah, I’m fine. What do you need?” you sit back in your chair and take a sip of your coffee, attempting to quell your anxieties while he speaks.

“I’m not at Quantico right now, I’m at a victim’s house. His name is Thomas Valentine and he died of dehydration but Emily believes there’s foul play. I’ll have Garcia send over his tox reports along with Matthew Benton’s to see if the pathologist missed anything. We’re on our way back so feel free to meet us upstairs when we debrief,” he says and you nod, writing down the information on a stray post-it note so that you don’t forget. “By the way, your dad says ‘hi.’”

“Tell him I say ‘hi’ back. I’ll meet you upstairs,” you state and hang up the phone, sighing as you run your hands through your hair to release some nervous energy. It was only a few more days and you would be on your day off, it was only a few days until you would be able to visit your mom again.

Just as if she heard it from five floors up, you receive an email from Penelope with the toxicology reports from both victims. A quick skim shows that there is a lack of intense scrutiny due to the simple cause of death. But, if Emily and Spencer believe otherwise then it was in your best interest to assume so as well. Looking into Matthew Benton’s report, there was evidence of long-term methamphetamine abuse which could contribute to the death but nothing out of the ordinary. It was only midday and you were running out of steam but your friends needed you so you had to pull it together.

After printing out all the information you have and stashing it in a folder, you make your way up to the bullpen and watch people rushing around. The busyness and chatter made you a bit woozy but the sight of Spencer helped to ground out a bit.

“Are you sure you’re okay? You don’t have to be here,” he frowns as he sees you approach and you shake your head.

“I’m fine, I just want to help out in any way I can,” you mumble and move past him toward the conference room where almost everyone was gathered. Once Hotch arrived, they began to pour over details and possibilities within this pseudo-case.

Listening intently, you take note of the evidence as it is laid out for you, the scuff marks under the bed, the missionary church in Spain that the two victims had visited, the idea that each family had been highly religious. Years of going to church in France and D.C. were being brought back in an instant.

“That sounds like an exorcism,” you blurt out and look up to see everyone staring at you. It was odd to hold their attention but you nestled down in your chair and continued to listen.

“Look, I know the Bible just as well as anyone, but I also know there’s nothing more open to behavioral interpretation than religion,” Derek comments.

“Meaning what?” Emily asks, shaking her head.

“I think it’s dangerous for us to wanna find a connection between these deaths,” he states.

“Wait, was Thomas’ wife religious?” Emily frowns and looks around at your father.

“She was concerned that he had been cursing God,” your father recalls as Spencer dives into an inference.

“Exorcism ritual can take days to complete. It’s possible the stress induced could cause a heart attack, especially in someone with a history of drug abuse,” he explains and looks at you.

“Definitely, drugs leave marks on your body that are irreversible unless you completely stop. It makes an impact on your hair growth, your skin, your heart, so it’s completely plausible. And it could explain how someone died of dehydration,” the facts fly so fast through your head as you try to connect the dots while you speak, your head spinning. Even a couple minutes in the conference room was overwhelming, you couldn’t imagine doing this all the time.

“Guys, look, I’m willing to say that we might have an unsub who ritualizes killings as if they were exorcisms, maybe. But, right now, we don’t even know if we have a crime yet,” Derek voices his concerns and you slowly nod, thinking about how you could help to clear up any room for error. It was possible if you were able to look at the bodies and examine them that you may have the ability to try and see if there were any other traces of possible deadly substances.

“Morgan’s right. We need to step back. Let me talk to someone before I have us all telling ghost stories,” your father suggests and everyone appears to take this as time to cool off and rethink any possibilities, standing and leaving the room to follow their own leads. Dread settles in your chest as you sit in the chair, looking down at the folder to find any piece of information that could help you come to a conclusion but the words were flying around in your head and you felt too sluggish to do anything.

“Do you think that you can get me the victim’s clothing? Perhaps something was done to them topically that would explain their deaths further,” you stand and sigh, already dreading going back to your reports.

“Yeah, sure. It’ll be our lunch break,” he says and smiles. While his smiles usually have the power to brighten your entire day, your sour mood only extinguished any fire of joy inside your body.

“I have too much to do, just go on without me,” you respond and begin walking out of the conference room. You can already feel Spencer’s pestering bubbling up and wanting to know what’s wrong but you didn’t have the heart to tell him.

“Are you sure? Studies have shown that taking breaks help boost blood flow and information retention--”

“I’m sure, Spencer,” you snap and continue walking toward the elevators before he reaches out and grabs your arm to stop you.

“What’s going on? Are you mad at me?” he asks.

“God, I’m fine Spencer! Stop babying me, you’re not my dad,” all the emotion that had been building up in the morning spilled out in anger and your heart shattered to see Spencer so confused and sad. “I’m sorry.”

Stepping into the elevator, you press the button to go down and watch the doors close in front of you, not looking anywhere in the direction of Spencer. The fluorescent lights above you suddenly look far too bright and tears well in your eyes. What would your mother say if she could see you now? Would she be disappointed? Would she be angry? A vibration in your pocket breaks you out of the self-loathing spiral.

From Dad (12:24PM):

I think you just about broke this kid’s heart.

To Dad (12:25PM):

I didn’t mean to. It’s just so close.

From Dad: (12:25PM):

Just tell him. He’ll understand.

To Dad (12:26PM):

I know. I love you.

As you sit at your desk and stare at the papers, your mind moves on autopilot to complete the rest of your tasks. With only two cups of coffee in your system, your head was starting to hurt and your focus was fizzing but when Spencer came back with a couple bags full of clothing to be processed, the guilt overpowered any feeling of fatigue.

“I brought the evidence. Just send the report to Garcia,” he states and drops the bag off at your desk before turning to leave.

“Hey, Spencer?” he turns to look at you, his eyes narrowed as you speak. “I’m really sorry. I’m not feeling well.”

“I could have told you that, and I’m not even a medical doctor,” he mutters and sighs. The air between you is stale and you want to speak, but don’t know what to say.

“Do you want to stay and help me process the evidence? It’ll only take a little bit,” you ask, your voice small. He appears to ponder the thought before nodding and you smile, standing and taking the evidence over to one of your machines. This was where you thrived. While you worked in silence, it was comforting to have Spencer around, even if the two of you were still on rocky ground.

You first started with isolating the fabric and the substances on the clothing. From there, you take them and test what they are to see if there are foreign substances that may have contributed to the deaths of Matthew Benton and Thomas Valentine. Processing goes quickly and you print out the report, frowning at the traces of nerve agent on the clothing.

“There’s sarin on their clothing,” you tell him and hand over the papers for him to read through.

“Thanks,” he mutters and stands to leave.

“Are we okay?” you ask him, watching him turn as you wrap your arms around your torso in a comforting way, warming your hands from the cold lab.

“Obviously not, if you’re not telling me something,” he puts down the folder and comes up to you, reaching out to take your hands. It was a bit of a shock, considering the fact that you knew he hated touching hands, but it was progress and it made your heart melt to think that he would feel safe enough to do so. “I know something’s wrong and I want to help you, but you’re not being honest with me.”

“I just haven’t eaten, Spence. And I’m under the weather, which doesn’t help. I promise that I’ll be okay,” you tell him, staring up into his eyes and speaking with as much truth as you can. But it wasn’t convincing enough and he pulls away as if you just burned him.

“I guess you don’t trust me, then,” he mumbles and turns around, picking up the folder and getting into the elevator. As the doors close, he stares back at you like he was disappointed and it completely broke you. Fat tears roll down your cheeks as your chest bubbles with anxiety and sorrow. You find a seat at your desk and desperately try to wipe the tears away, breathing in deeply to calm yourself down. You were still at work and you still had work to do.

Quickly, you dive back into your reports, writing them up as quickly as possible and pushing Spencer to the back of your mind. Before you know it, the end of the day comes and you’re out of the building and on the metro at record speed. The vibration of the wheels rolling over the tracks lulls you into a sense of security, distracting you from the pangs in your stomach. Without the distraction of work, your mind was able to wander.

Was it fair for you to hide this from Spencer? Why did you? Why did you need to keep this secret so badly?

Perhaps it was the years of being on your own after her death or the fact that showing sadness was opening yourself up to vulnerability and connection that you feared. Perhaps it was both, you didn’t have many friends in grad school and only talked to your dad once every blue moon. The thought of being a burden was unbearable, but losing Spencer was unfathomable. You could deal with a little bit of vulnerability if it meant getting your friend back.

Your legs guide you home once you reach your stop and you reheat some rice and add some soy sauce to make something that is edible and that you can keep down without issue. After eating, you shower and head to bed, falling asleep the second that you hit the pillow.

The next day, your alarm jars you out of a dreamless sleep, shaking you from a night that felt far too short. Your entire body was fatigued and your brain was a mess, but it was your last day at work before you got the day off. As you got ready and out the door, your phone was blowing up with information sent by Penelope and Emily. There was another death and they needed you to analyze the clothing of the third victim to confirm that nerve agent was being used to kill these men.

One you reach the office, you sit down and begin writing as you await the evidence. If you worked quick enough and finished the reports, you would be able to go home early. The fog in your brain makes it hard to focus as you work on more write ups, the words barely forming sentences, but you force yourself to persevere through lunch. Late in the afternoon, Spencer appears again with the evidence bag you need to process.

“Just send the report to Penelope when you’re done,” he states and turns back around to get into the elevator but you stand and pipe up.

“Can we talk?” you ask, hoping and praying that he would let you speak.

“I don’t know, can we? Because you seemed pretty adamant about keeping secrets from me last time we tried to talk,” he mumbles as he turns to look at you, his eyes dark and full of storm clouds.

“I’m sorry,” you begin, trying to find the right words so that your thoughts form coherent sentences. “I’m bad at talking about what’s plaguing me. I’ve been alone for a long time, and I’m sorry. It’s not an excuse, I know, but it’s a start.”

You want to say ‘I’m sorry’ over and over, but it wasn’t an explanation and he deserved at least that.

“Tomorrow is the anniversary of my mother’s death,” his frown almost vanishes from his face as you speak which makes you feel a hint of encouragement to keep talking. “And I’ve always dealt with it alone. Maybe because I don’t let myself handle it any other way, but I hope that you’re able to understand. I’m sorry, Spencer.”

Staring down at the ground, you will the tears to stay in your eyes so that you can keep up some image of togetherness, but they fall as quickly as they form. Suddenly his arms are wrapped around you and you let out a breath you didn’t even know you were holding. This was him accepting your apology and you suddenly felt like you could breathe. You worm your arms around his torso and pull him close, allowing yourself to take in all of him. The smell of his cologne, the feeling of muscles as they squeeze you tight, the fact that his hands were intertwined behind your back and his head was settled on top of yours.

“I’m sorry too,” he mumbles and you pull away slightly to look up at him. “You didn’t have to tell me that.”

He pauses as he also stumbles over his words.

“But, I’m glad you did.”

You let out a sigh and hug him tight again, wanting to memorize the way his arms felt around you. After another long hug, you pull away and wipe your nose, shaking your head as you look over at the evidence bag.

“I’m sorry, Patrick. I’ll get to processing your clothes now,” you mumble and let out a light laugh as you wash your hands and ready the evidence, processing the substances on his clothing. Beside you, Spencer leans against the wall and watches silently. It’s a bit nerve wracking to have someone watching you the way that he does, with bright eyes and attentive body language, but you do your best to explain it to him as the machine brings up the results.

“Nerve agent, it’s sarin,” you turn to him. “Go tell them.”

He nods and picks up the newly printed report.

“I’ll come get you afterward,” he promises. “We can ride the train together.”

“There’s no need, I’m going home now. Just text me,” you smile up at him as he nods and takes your hand, squeezing it one last time before leaving.

You feel lighter now, like you lifted a rock off your chest. It was a burden, keeping secrets, but now you could feel a little bit better. After writing up all the procedural stuff on how you processed the evidence, you pack your bag and head to the metro. When you’re on the train, you get a text from Spencer telling him that they caught the priest and he was being deported back to Italy.

To Spencer (7:45PM):

I’m glad.

From Spencer (8:01PM):

Do you want me to come over?

To Spencer (8:02PM):

No, it’s okay. I’ll be okay.

When you finally arrive at your stop, you easily find your way home. There was still sadness lingering, it was getting to be that time, but you had Spencer and that was enough. Getting home and getting to bed is a quick ordeal after you eat something and drink way too much wine to try and drown your sorrows and quiet your mind. The same days every year, you take a couple off so that you can mourn the loss of your mother and visit her grave. It was almost like a way to pretend that she was alive, even if just for a day. You had a lot to tell her after everything that’s happened, but it still didn’t help the fact that she was gone forever.

Waking up the next morning is rough, it feels like a train plowed into you after a night of tears shed and one too many glasses of wine as you reminisced. Looking at your phone on this bright Friday morning, you see that you’ve managed to sleep in pretty significantly, but at least it was still technically morning. Waiting for you are a text from your father and a text from Spencer.

From Dad (6:00AM):

Chin up, tesoro. Your mother loved you very much, she would be proud of everything you accomplished.

From Spencer (7:02AM):

Do you want to get dinner after work?

From Spencer (7:34AM):

Where are you?

From Spencer (8:01AM):

Let me know what I can do.

The blanket of isolation took over you as you slowly began your morning routine, slowly being the key word. While Spencer knew, you didn’t know what to do now. This was uncharted territory for you and while you knew you weren’t alone, you had also never mourned with another person besides time spent at your mother’s funeral. Perhaps another year, another time. He was only just your friend.

After you throw on comfy clothes and brush your teeth, you put your hair up so that it’s out of your face and eat some cereal--something easy and virtually effortless. Once you finish, you make a mental note of what you’re going to pick up at the store before heading to the cemetery to spend time with your mom. Throwing on a coat and slinging your bag over your shoulder, you punch in the security code and open the door to see Spencer there.

“Spencer? What are you doing here, it’s only like two,” you frown and close your apartment door behind you, locking it with your keys.

“I finished up all my paperwork so I took a half day and I wanted to cheer you up,” he states as you look up at him. “Maybe we can watch some Star Wars or that vampire movie you always talk about.”

“I’m going to visit my mom,” you tell him.

“Oh, sorry, I’ll go then,” he says and begins to turn and walk away but you pipe up before he can get too far.

“Why don’t you come with me?” you ask. He was already here and he wanted to help you feel better. His presence alone was grounding, reminding you of what you had and not of what you lost.

“Are you sure?” he asks and you nod, walking up next to him.

“She would have loved you,” you almost reach out and take his hand before you realize what you’re about to do. “Can--Can I hold your hand?”

You’re almost positive he’s going to say no. After all, you know he has issues with germs and sensory issues, the day before being a special occasion because you had broken down crying in front of him. But, when he nods and holds out his hand, you feel your heart flutter. The two of you make your way downstairs in a comfortable silence and the warmth of Spencer’s hand in yours is comforting. As you exit the elevator and make your way out onto the street, the cold D.C. air is refreshing.

Together you walk to the local grocery store to grab some food and flowers, daffodils, which were your mother’s favorite. After, you ride the metro down near the cemetery. This whole time, the presence of Spencer is enough to distract you from the ever present cloud looming over your head, but when you finally walk through the cemetery’s gate, all hell breaks loose.

When Spencer hears you sob, he instantly wraps his arms around you. The floodgates open and you softly sob into his chest, your arms wrapped around him in a vice. Your heart hurts, you miss your mother. She should have been alive to see all the accomplishments, to see your wedding and your second graduation. It’s times like these where you wonder if anything could have been done, if you could have seen the symptoms sooner or if you could have found another doctor, but your father always reminds you that you did everything in your power to help her and that she would have been proud of the person you were today.

Once your sobs subside, you sniffle and pull away to wipe your nose.

“Sorry for crying on you,” you huff out a small laugh and try to wipe away some of the snot that got on him while you cried.

“It’s okay, I understand,” he says and you sit down on the blanket, Spencer sitting next to you and helping to lay out the food.

“Hey mom,” your voice breaks a little and you clear your throat before turning to Spencer. “This is Spencer and he works with dad. He’s my best friend.”

You smile at him as he turns and waves at her headstone. The notion is so heartwarming that you feel the tears rise up again.

“Hi Ms. Montgomery, your daughter is one of the best people I know,” he says as you begin to eat cheese and crackers from the charcuterie board.

“He works in the same building I do, I got the job at Quantico. I know that FBI agents and you don’t mix very well but I enjoy my job and they have all these new machines for me to play with,” you lay your head on Spencer’s shoulder and continue talking as he wraps an arm around you instinctively. As the two of you sit there and pick at the food, continuing to talk about your mom and your fondest memories, there’s a part of you that wishes it could be like this always. Maybe you didn’t have to always hide your sadness and spend it in isolation. And just maybe, there was always a rainbow after a storm.

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #aaron hotchner #derek morgan #emily prentiss #jj #jennifer jareau #david rossi #penelope garcia

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anonymous-gremlin · 3 years

Text

Remus angst fic.

Tw's are in the tags

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Remus remembers the good old days

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Lazy Days are good for memories

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It had been a lazy day for Remus. Sprawled out over the sofa in his dark green pjyamas listening to his favourite musicals. Although it was more a lazy week or rather month, than a day.

He didn't do much these days. Thomas had decided to ignore him and everything he does so Remus decided to stop trying. More being bored out of his mind for days on end.

Before it happenend, everything had been better. The split had ruined everything. Not the split between him and Roman although that ruined many things, but the split between dark and light was way worse.

Slowly he stood up and walked to the wall. Among the bloodsplatters and weird dark stuff from Remus' last art project were picture frames. Each made with care and each photo filling the frames was important.

Two twins, red and green side by side. Smiling and just having fun. How long was it ago? Remus couldn't exactly remember. He just wanted to go back how it was before.

"Come one, Roman, we got to defeat the dragon witch!"

"I'm coming, dear brother of mine!"

"Logan and Janus are the ones captured and we have to save them!"

"How dare she take the nerd and the snake! We shall save our braincells!"

Laughing, they made their way across the imagination, bickering playfully the entire way.

They were so close back then. Playing pretend together. Sometimes even Janus and Logan would join them. They were ofen the damsels in distress. He remembered the time that the twins had arrived at the dragon witch's castle only to find the two braincells having a cup of tea with her and debating about something to with scales.

DW had laughed and pretended to attack the two creative sides so the pretend could continue. Or that one time, the two braincells had decided to sneak in a twist of their own and after they got saved, had attacked the prince and the duke as plottwist villians. Remus had been surprised. The two usually stoic calm sides playing villians? It was amazing.

But all of that changed.

"That was amazing, Janus, I can't believe you did that! It was so cool! You're an amazing villian!"

"Thank you, Roman, if I may say so, you are an horrible hero"

"Princey, kiddo, can you help me with something?"

"I'm coming, Padre!"

The next time they had seen him, he was packing his things to go live in another corner of the mindscape saying something about getting "accepted". Why couldn't he stay living with them in the gray? What did accepted mean? Remus still didn't understand and cried himself to sleep at night his twin left. They only saw him once after that, but something was different.

Gone were the confident smile and eyes that sparkled when he talked in place were smiles that seemed just a bit off. Not prideful anymore. Just off. Like when all the furniture in the room is moved by two inches.

He wore a long sleeved prince oufit now instead of the t-shirt with a red sjerp. To be honest, Remus had been a bit jealous of it. So he copied it with his own little twist. He was sure Roman wouldn't mind.

Next to get "accepted" with Roman and Patton was Logan. Remus had been close with the logical side. Not as close as with Roman ofcourse, but still close. They would talk for hours, bouncing gruesome facts back and forth.

"Hey Lolo! How do you get rid of a dead body?! I have one!"

"How did you ge- nevermind, did you know pigs eat bones when hungry enough?"

"They do?! Could humans do that to! I mean..they can bite of a finger with the same amount of force like biting into a carrot, so they would be able to actually eat bones, right?"

"Maybe, wanna do an experiment on it?!"

"Abso-fucking-lutely!"

Remus didn't actually see him leave but when he later spoke to him, he too was different.

Way too big labcoat was replaced with longsleeved neat shirts and a tie. New glasses with behind them no long curious eyes ready to explore the world. No more bright smiles but an apathetic expression.

A few years went by and everything was good for a while. Ofcourse, the others didn't talk to them anymore and started calling themselves the light sides and them the dark sides. Remus didn't understand why they did that but accepted it after a while.

They got repressed. A new side formed. Anxiety. They were very scared of everthing and Remus and Deciet had to do much to earn the little guy's trust.

"Come on, spiderman, just eat something"

"But what if you posioned it or something?!"

"It's absolutely poisend"

"See, he even admits it!"

"Double D speaks in lies, it takes some getting used to"

It was funny for a while seeing Janus and Virgil interact while the anxious side didn't understand the upside down speech, like Remus called it to annoy Janus. But Virgil eventually became closer to them. Not for long though.

"What do you mean you did not went out to meet the light sides?!"

"I just wanted to meet them, it isn't a big deal, they are nice."

"Virgil, please do do it again. I don't want you to get hurt"

"Don't overreact like that, Dee, you're starting to sound like me"

He started to spend more time with them, often coming home late or spending entire nights with them. Sometimes he just went for an hour sometimes for days. Remus would never forget how their spider son changed during those days.

It was subtle and Janus didn't seem to notice it or at least he didn't act like he saw it. But the change was there. How he would sit up straighter and slouch less, how he would speak his mind less, how he would close himself off from the two of them.

And Remus would never forget that dark bruise he saw under Virgil's hoodie one time. He didn't knew who did it but it was there.

Then one day, Virgil just didn't come home. The last thing he told them that he was accepted and went to go live with the light sides. All the wgile smiling brightly like he didn't have any guilt whatsoever. Leaving Remus to console a crying Janus who didn't come out of his room for a month.

Why couldn't they go back to when they were kids? When Roman would still be confident, when Logan would still laugh, when Janus wouldn't cry himself to sleep and when Remus wouldn't be repressed.

They all changed. All except one.

Morality.

He had never changed, remaining that smile full, childish dad friend that was a bit too very pushy.

The one who convinced Logan and Roman to go live somewhere else. Who started the light sides. The one got close to Virgil. The one who started it all.

Remus suddenly understood. It had been Patton all along! The stupid moral side!

All the pieces fell into place. Why they all wore long sleeves, why Roman seemed to stop making dramatic gestures, why Logan flinced anyone touched him, why they suddenly became a family, excluding Remus and Janus, Virgil's bruise. It was Patton all along.

He had tricked them to being his famILY and moving, accepting them into the light sides and then started his abuse. Only with Virgil, he had done first the abuse, then the accepting.

He felt a small bit of wetness going across his fists. Looking up, he saw that he had punched a wall, blood dripping from his fist.

A picture frame shattered, hitting the ground. The one with the whole group on it. Six kid sides laughing at the camera. The broken pieces were like Remus' heart. Completely broken.

Hearing the door open behind him he turned around, seeing the figure running towards him brightly smiling.

"Remus! I didn't get accepted!"

#sanders sides #remus angst #janus angst #virgil angst #roman angst #logan angst #unsympathetic patton #tw implied abuse #tw abuse #tss #tw bruises #tw punching #tw blood #i was bored so i wrote this

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ask-hunterxhunter · 4 years

Note

Can I get a request for yandere Silva, Uvogin, and Phinks?

Phinks has been done already, you can read it here.

Uvogin

Uvogin is often described as animalistic and you need to know this is not limited to when he is fighting: This man is the sort of person who is fartoo connected with his most primal instincts. Normally, this is not exactly abad thing, but in his case, it is and it can easily become worse when he’s pushed into Yandere Valley, especially considering his personality,not to mention the “take what you want even if by force” mindset of the Troupeand how they already don’t exactly give a damn about who they hurt to achievetheir goals.

While not one to beat around the bush or hide his interest once it isprovoked, Uvogin is not stupid and the Troupe is the only thing that mattersfor him, so he is usually careful with “normal” interactions and tends to preferone-night stands (far safer in his opinion and besides, he doesn’t have anyemotional attachments outside of the Spider and doesn’t care to have), meaning itwill be a surprise for him when he realizes he is thinking of you with far morecare than he’s used to and also more often… It would be easier if it was simplylust, but somehow, it doesn’t feel like that.

Despite the initial surprise, once this starts and realizes it (whichwill be pretty soon), Uvogin won’t want to put an end to it or try to forget you(while, in fact, his obsession grows). It’s simply not in his nature. In fact,once he realizes he wants you, whatever past might be between you won’tmatter, even if you’re meant to be enemies or if you’re hunting the Spidersdown (in a way, in his obsession, Uvogin may find this exciting). Once he issure he wants you for life, he’ll also make his intentions clear.

Hey, it’s not that you actually have a choice, but he thought you mightappreciate the pretense all the same. Sorry, sweetheart, he isn’t a chocolateand roses kind of guy, remember? When the Spiders want something, they take itand he’s no different.

Despite the circumstances that led to you two meeting, even if yourealize the danger you’re in and decide it might be smarter to find a hell of agood place to hide for a while (hoping he’ll get over you or something), thiswon’t do more than buy you a few days. Going to the authorities and beingplaced in a safe house is useless just as well. The Spiders stick together and isvery likely some of them (such as Shalnark) will help him get to you if things geta little more complicated. While some stalkers may give up their currentobsession with time, this tactic won’t work with Uvogin. No matter where youare or the security you have, he will find you.

Hey, if he has to kill (read: slaughter) some morons along the way, it’snothing that will keep him up at night. It will be a pretty gruesome scene andunless you’re unconscious, you’ll see it as he drags you along with him. On a note, Uvogin might not kill your family (at least not this time) or your friends (if he’s completely sure they are indeed just friends, thoughthe chances are not as good as with your family). Also, contrary to someothers, Uvogin won’t drag this “game” for longer than necessary or just take histime as he corners you. Yes, he is a predator and a hunter, this sort of thingis fun and all, but why waste time when you’re so close? Especially if you’vemanaged to stay away for what he deems to be too long. What may happen is that,when the perfect opportunity to get you comes, he will let you run -literally-and believe you’re safe before catching you. Uvogin doesn’t mean this as torture,it’s just that it’s too fun for him to let it pass.

From then on, it’s hopeless.

You can reason, cry, argue, or yell that this isn’t love, but Uvogin won’treally give a damn, even if he doesn’t enjoy to see you in distress (if hislevel of obsession allows him that, at least). In his mind, you can call thiswhatever you want, but he wants you with him, so that’s it. Besides, there aremany types of love, and this is the love of a thief. Get used to it,little love, because you’re not going anywhere. Note that Uvogin isn’tdelusional enough to insist that you do love him and just doesn’t knowit yet, but this doesn’t mean he will care whether kidnapping you was crossinga line or not. While won’t take pleasure or be indifferent to your suffering, itwon’t make him regret his actions not even for a moment. If anything, hemay point out that the sooner you get used to your new life, the sooner thingswill start to get better.

He just knows he loves you and wants you with him, so what else matters?

It’s pretty disturbing how Uvogin will act all nice and gentle when you’renot trying to escape even if you’re defying him (this if his obsession isn’t onthose hellish levels where the instability becomes far too intense for him toeven resemble who he used to be, in this case, it’s better to keep your mouthshut) and, surprisingly, for someone who can be so ruthless and brutal whenfighting, it’s unlikely Uvogin will be violent around you (well, with you). It’s not that his personality will change, but in his own way, he’ll be affectionate…

Not a sight anyone who has fought him would expect and not that it makes thingsany better, no matter how much he says he loves you while dismissing how muchpain he’s causing you. Uvogin will often want you near him, wanting to enjoythe moments he has with you when he’s not doing some job with the Spiders. In thosetimes, if no one can stay back to what you, Uvogin won’t hesitate to force you insidea cage or place a chain around your ankle and locking you in your room. If youcry, he will just joke that he’ll miss you too, love.

The rest of the Troupe is no better, either, but then again, did youexpect anything different?

When you try to escape, Uvogin is likely to allow you to go until acertain point before catching you… It’s an interesting game of tag and whatbetter way to make you understand you can’t ever leave? If you keep insistingor if we’re talking about a rescue, though, it won’t be pretty… At all. Manyanimals get irritated with what they consider an invasion of their territory ora “threat” to their mates and, well, remember how Uvogin bit through a man’sskull once? Yeah, what happens will be along those lines and he won’t hesitateto make you watch.

Or maybe you can try asking nicely for him to spare their lives?Maybe you can be kinder to him in return? Yeah, Uvogin won’t hesitate touse them as levarage to force you into showing him some affection, even if it’sfake (which he’ll escalate into an attempt at seducting you very soon).

Of course, you don’t need to know he killed them anyway (or thatsome other member of the Spider did). Come on, you didn’t really expect them tolet someone get so close and just walk away, did you?

Silva

Silva is not a man who has much of a care for morals and even in a normalstate of mind he’ll consider all the options he has to achieve his goalsand get what he wants. This relentness will only become stronger once hebecomes a yandere for you and while this can often be said for any Yandere, the fact that Silva already has this streak doesn’t mean anything goodfor you. Silva is already used to do disregard limits, already has connections and means, so he won’t hesitate when he decides to pursue you evenafter you’ve rejected his advances.

Not being an impulsive man, it’s unlikely that he’ll become obsessed withyou after a single meeting (though some interest might be incited), regardlessof how you first cross paths: Maybe he met you while chasing a target, maybeyou’re a friend of Killua and came with Gon, Leorio and Kurapika to rescue him,so on. Your following meetings might be brief, he may just hear something aboutyou, but eventually, he will find himself growing… Curious. He’ll then decideto find more about you whenever the opportunity arises, since there are very veryfew people he considers “interesting” outside of his inner circle. You don’t evenhave to be a Hunter for that to happen.

At first, it will be apparently harmless enough (for a Zoldyckassassin, it should be said): He may read about your work, or watch a match ifyou fight in Heaven’s Arena… In a sense, at first, his view will be completelyanalytic: If he watches you fighting, for example, Silva will first focus onyour style, your abilities, your strong and weak points (only later he’ll be focusingmore on you). It’s extremelly hard to say what he’s thinking, but there probablywon’t be any darker intentions just yet. Silva is truly just curious.

There will come a time when second-hand information won’t be as satisfyingfor Silva and he’ll decide to watch you from afar personally. It is nothing outof ordinary for him, after all, there have been times when he observed histarget for some time before killing them… Well… He knows he doesn’t want tokill you, but he isn’t that sure of what he wants with you either (at least atfirst) and this will frustrate him for a good while, as it’s rare for him toget confused or unsure of what he things or feels.

Watching you from afar, seeing you personally, seeing you smile tosomeone else, will change that. Silva will realize very soon that he wants you… He may take one or two days to consider the situation, to think about whatis happening and if this isn’t a passing idea or if he isn’t mixing things up(an irony, considering obsession isn’t love). In the end, Silva will decidethat while things did not start this way, it’s how they are now.

What about Kikyo, you ask?

It depends… We haven’t seen much of their interactions to be completelysure of whether or not there is actual love in that marriage. When it comesdown to it, there are two options: They truly love each other (as strange as itmight seem considering how this family is) or Silva met Kikyo, saw something inher that would be useful for the Zoldyck’s bloodline and manipulated her to thepoint she is completely devoted to him now (I’ve read somewhere Kikyo came fromthe Meteor City. If that’s so, then marrying a powerful, rich man with areputation such as Silva must’ve seemed a dream come true to her, so no wondershe would do whatever he desires). As such, there are also two options of howthings might work in this scenario: Either Silva would kill Kikyo and make itlook like an accident (which he would be able to pull off to the point even hischildren wouldn’t think otherwise) or Kikyo, due to her blind devotion to Silva,wouldn’t mind him having a mistress (which she would consider as a pet of sorts).

In a way or another, Silva won’t care about what he has to do to makesure you’re his, regardless of your (or anyone else’s) opinion on the matter.

At first, Silva will try more normal means of getting to you (courting you,we might say) since he’d much rather have you coming to him willingly, but itwon’t take long for him to determine whether this may get the desirable resultsor not (Silva is great at reading people and remember he won’t have problemswith “checking” on you to know how this idea is going). From them on, hisattempts will start to get unsettling, as there will be an undertone of threateven with the most innocent of gestures: It’s his way of telling you this isyour last chance of doing this the easier way. He’s being nice for now, butthis can change. While most guys may be somewhat insistent without it becoming harassment, it won’t be so with Silva. Long before the time comeswhen he warns you he is not taking “no” for an answer, you’ll alreadyhave the feeling you’re in serious trouble.

Silva has many means of getting to you: From kidnapping you when you’remost vulnerable, to threatening your loved ones to bribing policemen working onkeeping you safe to just hand you over… He has many options and he’ll know whichone works better depending on the circumstances. He will prefer to not involveyour family or closest friends, since it would be counter-productive in thelong run.

While with Illumi you at least can walk around the mansion and thegardens, it won’t be so with Silva: You’ll be kept in a room deep within theZoldyck estate and the only times when you’ll get out will be accompanied byhim, when Silva decides you need/deserve a walk around the gardens. As he willtell you with a smile, there isn’t any way you can escape, so don’t bother totry. Don’t worry, though, you’ll have anything and everything you might wishfor. And it’s true, Silva will have no problems with pampering you even if younever ask for anything.

Why are you surprised he knows so much about your likes and dislikes, mydear?

In a way, it’s not so different than it was with Alluka and, just like itwas with her, it won’t mean anything when you don’t have your freedom. Don’tbother asking for it either. Silva won’t ever let you go (and he will tell you thatquite clearly if it’s necessary).

While some Yanderes might at least feel bad about seeing you suffer,regardless if they understand the depths of what they’re doing and how terribleit is, it won’t be so with Silva. Oh, he knows what he is doing and he believes he loves you, he does, but he’s not a man to be moved by the suffering ofothers even if he claims to care for them. Your tears are just a necessary eviland Silva won’t let you go just because you’re crying. The most compassionate reactionhe may have is to just hold you close and start whispering how things will bealright once you realize how much he loves you.

One thing you should never forget, and that makes the situation evenworse, is that Silva is and always will be, a manipulator. Being theonly one who you have contact with (he may let the butlers serve you from timeto time, but they won’t be allowed to really talk to you), he knows theloneliness will end up making you talk with him. At first, it will be innocentconversation, nothing that appears to have importance…

But Silva will reach the topics of your “previous” life and twist thingsto his advantage. You talk of how you love your friends, how you miss them?Silva will lie that they haven’t even tried to rescue you or remind you of badtimes and arguments you had or anything else he can use against them (andbecause he stalked you, he knows quite a few things), slowly poisoning yourmind with doubts, while acting all sweet and caring.

Silva won’t isolate you just physically, but mentally and emotionally aswell, doing his best to convince you he’s the only one who truly loves you, whounderstands you. He wasn’t kidding when he said he wants to be the only one you’llever think about.

Also, while other Yanderes may truly want you to love them, Silva won’tcare as much. Oh, he wants you to love him, he does, but asfrustrating as it might be if it doesn’t happen, he will content himself withhaving you there. Besides, he knows it will be just a matter of time until yourgive in and accept the situation…

After all, it’s not like you can ever leave, is it?

#headcanon #yandere #hxh #silva #zoldyck #uvogin #hunter x hunter #silva zoldyck #yandere headcanon #I always have so much fun with those #silva would be one of the worst yanderes #hunterxhunter #hxh headcanon #hunter yandere

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