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#handled it better then she wouldn't have done that. i feel like its my fault still
sucrevere · 1 month
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#twit is about the artists first love who loved her more than she thinks she deserved. some of the lyrics talk about her being unhappy#despite it. she felt suffocated and like she was his whole world while he was not hers. eventually he too grew unhappy and they broke up#anyways#sometimes i think about my first relationship when i listen to this song#pretty sure she had bpd. she loved me so much. i was her favorite person. but... i was the person who put the most effort into the#relationship.#i thought it was my duty as the person who ''wore the pants'' ig and she adored the attention. its always been in my nature to watch out#for others i suppose.#when i became severely depressed after turning 18 i lost all passion and desire to do anything. i had no energy for the relationship#instead of picking up the slack... she started acting out to try and regain my attention. it didn't work. i didn't have the energy to give#her my attention but she desperately needed it.#at some point it hit me that i was aro and it was at that point i realized i needed to cut it off.#she loved me so much. she loved me too much. she'd never had a partner who treated her the way i did. she couldn't imagine a life#without me.#i couldn't be the person she needed and i knew it. it would hurt her but it would be for the best. i know she would never be able to cope#with the fact that i'd never be able to love her in the same way she did i. so i did. i think it broke her#to put it bluntly. she tried to rape me in response. corrective rape. she wanted me to stop being aromantic.#it didn't work. i stood my ground. i was larger and stronger than her.#there's no excuse for it. but sometimes... i want to feel bad for her. i loved her too. not in the same way she loved me but i did.#i mourn her and our relationship still sometimes. i know i ruined her. i feel like i did. i feel like if i were different or if i had#handled it better then she wouldn't have done that. i feel like its my fault still#i know its not.#but i still feel like it was and because of that. i feel guilt.#tw rape#rape mention#Spotify
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astorianyxkings · 5 months
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You guys ever think about how Bruce feels when one of the batlings call him Dad? Or refer to him as their dad? Or how he feels when he steps into a fatherly role for a bat?
I mean yeah its mostly done in public, Dick has always called Bruce Dad or refer to him as his father since he was old enough to go to galas. And yeah at first the word felt like nails scraping down a chalk board because Bruce isn't worth being a dad, not in his head at least. He was still in his twenties, and Dick already had a dad. One who loved him. But he tolerates the word anyway, because its just to keep up appearing right?
Nowadays, having repaired their severed relationship, Bruce wants to hear the word. He misses it but he doesn't dare ask. But when he reveals that he officially adopted Dick and he hugs him and says "I love you Dad." Bruce can't help but cry, sob quietly as he clutches his son in his arms. "I don't want to replace your father." He says, begging his voice to not waver, it doesn't listen. "You're not," Dick responds, "You're just standing on the same level as him. My dads and my mom. My parents."
When Barbara becomes Batgirl Bruce is terrified. He knows the kind of sick freaks out there, who ogle her in her Batgirl suit. It makes his blood boil the way any father's would. Except he isn't her father. She has Jim for that. And even if she's dating Dick, Bruce can't seem to figure out why he's treating her like this, why he's keeping her patrol limited, why he's texting Commissioner Gordon in panic whenever she's late. Jim laughs and says its like they're co parents and something in Bruce's heart jabs.
When she's paralyzed by the Joker Bruce isn't sure what to do. He pays her medical bills and has a back and forth with Jim, "Its my fault he found out she was Batgirl!", "He didn't, he did it because she's a Gordon! It's my fault!". Bruce crues over her in the comatose state, apologizing over and over, its his fault, his minds been made up. When she becomes Oracle there's nothing he wouldn't do to accommodate her. Barbara may not legally be his daughter, but she kind of it his first daughter.
When Jason comes around and starts calling Bruce dad at galas, he's more comfortable around the word. He can be a dad to Jason, Jason didn't get to have a good dad but Bruce bought a parenting book (What to Expect when Moving from Raising One Kid to Two) and he's handling it. But then he dies and Bruce is met with the guilt of knowing that he failed his son. Because even though Dick was his ward and first born, Jason was the first one he was okay with referring to as a son.
And then he came back and Bruce is no longer dad. He's B or Old Man. Its better than "the asshole who let me die" so he'll take what he can get. Except once at a gala Jason has a bit of a Freudian slip and refers to Bruce as his dad and he leaves the room to burst into tears. Jason doesn't hate him and while he's grateful part of his mind knows he should. He deserves to be hated, Jason is just too much of a good person to do it. But it doesn't matter, Jason's still his son and his heart still stutters whenever he's reminded of that. Jason is his son, his boy.
When he meets Tim, Bruce is scared all over again. He doesn't want to be Tim's dad. Tim already has a dad—and in Bruce's self loathing mind, a neglectful father is still better than whatever impersonation of a dad he could be. But Tim is stubborn, he latches on and somewhere along the lines after his emancipation, Bruce realizes that he's Tim's dad. And he wants to be Tim's dad. And he won't fail Tim the way he did Dick or Jason, he made too many mistakes with them.
Tim sometimes feels out of place. Bruce doesn't know why, he belongs into their family (cult as Jason says affectionately) and Bruce will always remind him of that. Tim is his son and Bruce will never get over that, he gets to see this boy grow up to be great. And maybe when Tim's sleep deprived he calls Bruce dad, but thats between him, Tim and the tear stained pillow on Bruce's bed.
And then there's Steph. Stephanie Brown forced her way into the Batfamily by dating Tim and even after they broke up, she's not leaving. And Bruce doesn't want her to. She's made it clear she doesn't want to be a Wayne officially, she's fine just being Steph. Except, Bruce kind of thinks Steph is like his daughter too. She's not just some random girl he finds overly bubbly, her bubbliness reminds him if Dick, her street smarts remind him of Jason. But despite that Steph is so unique. And even if she has a dad, Bruce can't help it. He personally decorated a room at the manor for her, had it painted purple and everything. Steph might not be a Wayne by name, but she is in everything else. And Bruce is kind of okay with that.
And then there's the two kids who refer to him as their dad all the time.
Cassandra Cain becomes Cassandra Wayne and she never looks back. She rarely speaks, she's content with sign language and you best believe the rest of the family learns it to communicate with her comfortably. But something in Bruce's heart flutters when she refers to him as Dad. When she signs about one of her dance recitals, Don't forget dad! Or when she's bragging and boasting at a gala about him, My dad's not like that! He's really nice!
And then there's Damian. He couldn't run away from being his father if he wanted to. Which he doesn't. Damian called him Father, rather stiffly for the first two years together. But then one day he's talking to Jon and Bruce isn't trying to eavesdrop but he's not perfect do he does and he hears Damian refer to him as Baba and he almost trips over his own feet. Damian, ever the observer, notices him immediately and then he's suddenly calling him Baba more often, Baba I'm going to walk Titus or Baba, Grayson is trying to hug me again. Doesn't matter the context, hearing Damian utter the endearment makes his heart melt every damn time.
But when Duke rolls around, heartbroken and unfairly orphaned, Bruce is terrified all over again. He's not ready to force Duke into accepting him as a father, Duke has a dad. Bruce doesn't want to replace him. But Duke, much like Tim, latches on. He needs a father. He needs one to guide him, to help him forge his own path. And Bruce can't help himself. He's a father. He's Dukes father.
Bruce being a dad but hating himself for it while loving his kids but hating that he's forced to be their dad because the world was cruel to them.
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cadrenebula · 7 months
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Prompt #27: Sole
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It was just another day for this small portion of the Troupe. Just Ely, Fen, Aryn, and Ronove in Ely's apartment. Just relaxing and enjoying each other's company. Well mostly relaxing.
"Well, it's o-fish-ial," Ely crows from where she's curled into the corner of her sofa, the fire crackling merrily in the hearth. The rain beats down on the window panes and the troupe group had gathered in Ely's apartment to exist quietly with one another. "Fangs, you're formally a fin-tastic fish father." She looks smug.
Fen, reading a book on the other sofa, sighs fondly.
Aryn is groaning from where he sits near Fen drinking a cup of tea. "Seems a bit fishy to me."
"You betta believe it." Ronove smirks as he messes with his fishing kit he'd bought recently. It was better then the basic one he had started with. An his new friend was planning to teach him to make food for his fishy friends. "I dislike anchovies though, they're a little fishy."
"Maybe think about tackling jellyfish next?" Ely hums thoughtfully, "We wouldn't want them to get jelly!" She pauses at beat and then adds, seriously, "And some of them are bioluminescent, which might be pretty at night. We do like sparkly things here."
"Perch-ance," Fen pipes up, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth as he stares, stubbornly, at his book, "would it have krill-ed you to not start a pun war Darling?"
"Excuse you! I have no ink-ling of what you mean Fen! My puns are ex-squid-ite." Ely pouts at him.
"It's de-beta-bowl how skilled her puns are tonight." Aryn smirked as he sipped at his tea. "She takes every oppor-tuna-ty she can get."
"Needs more e-fish-ency. I'm going to need a minute to mullet over." Ronove was doing his best not to crack up laughing as he closed the fishing kit.
"Wow! Re-puffed by my own family. I sea how it is…" Ely pouts theatrically. "It would be shell-fish of me not to share in my gill-orious puns." She sniffs, "It's not my fault you two are all crabby."
"I'm not crabby at all. I'm scaling back on my puns for your sake. Some of your puns can be rather a-trout-cious." Aryn giggles as he makes sure he doesn't spill his tea.
"Don’t try to gill-t trip me." Ronove snorts as he grins with fangs on display. "Maybe you just need some more vitamin sea, Ely."
Ely makes a deeply offended noise, "I can't believe you're trouting my talent! The of-fin-se! I've obviously got you hooked on fishy puns now."
"Now, now. You're just trying to take advantage of every oppor-tuna-ty." Aryn waves a hand in a comforting motion towards Ely. "We can't help that it's just very catchy."
"I think she's the jelly one that we're catching on just for the halibut." Ronove smirks as he thinks. He was definitely feeling like this was something he would have done in his mortal life. Just having fun with puns. "I'll just throw her some hooks so she can stop floundering."
Ely glares at them, "You two think you're so so-fish-ticated, huh? I'll make you feel my wrasse, wait and sea, just when you least expect it."
"These puns are kraken me up," Fen says, absolutely deadpan, "The conversation is a bit lost at sea but at least you're pretty con-fin-dent in your improvisation skrills. Very oar-ganized too."
"Oh dear… She might be the sole survivor at this rate. We're sunk." Aryn laughs merrily. "If we live, we're going to need a minute to mullet over."
"We're not royally scrod yet. This is not the last craw. No surrender!" Ronove thrusts a fist into the air comically. "We'll snapper out of it before long. Because we're not fin-ished yet!"
"How gill-ant of you." Ely sniffs, "You're krill-ly a dab hand at this." A impish smile steals over her lips, "I guess you're just full of carp, huh?"
Aryn was glad he'd set his cup down. He couldn't resist laughing hard now. Waving a white handkerchief in the air as he laid there laughing. Clearly he was calling it quits.
"Oh, for heavens hake! He's drowning now. He's such a Paci-fish-t he couldn't handle it anymore. Done in by the squidding around we're doing. Should we have mercy on him or make him walk the plankton?" Ronove reaches over to poke Aryn's side as the viera is too busy laughing.
"Hmmmm…" Ely taps her chin thoughtfully, "I think we should be ab-sole-lutely sure he's really schooled, you know? We're piranha roll now and we should make sure he's not just playing koi. Make sure he's not throwing us a red herring."
"I think we've reached the fin-ale." Ronove smirking at Aryn laying there holding his sides. "He definitely seems fin-ished. And I think I've clownfished enough that I'm running out of puns myself. I'm out of practice."
Ely pouts, "I see how it is! Now that I've mussel-ed up and you two can no longer bubble-team me you've decided to shrimp out…"
Ronove chuckles and shrugs. "You win this round? I'll prepare better for the next round and then we'll see what you're aboat."
Ely sighs and tips side ways, like a maiden in a Thorne Period novel, "I guesssssss."
"You three are ab-sole-lutely hilarious." Fen hums, lips quirking in amusement, "I had a whale of a time, though I thought I might have to coral you a few times, but you stayed octo-mistic about your abilities and powered through to the fin-ish. I'm very proud of you."
Ronove snorts before sticking his tongue out at Ely and Fen both. "Apparently Fen just had to fin-ish us off. Hook, line, and sinker. I think I need more tea now."
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beat Forspoken, and while I probably will write an in-depth review down the line cuz i have many thoughts, I'm just going to pointform my basic thoughts while it's still fresh.
PROS
Great designs all around, the Tantas look so breathtaking with their extravagant designs and yet it doesn't take away from their world, it fits just right in. Absolutely love it.
Good world building most questions i had were answered either through the main story or extra archive stuff. Nothing felt too weird yknow
Gameplay gameplay gameplay. The magic system is literally amazing. I dont think I've had this much fun fighting in an rpg in a long time. Theres so much fun variety so you can focus on whats comfortable for you while also looking sick as fuck. Have i mentioned how good the battle system is cuz i avoid playing mage in every game because its such a slog but here its so fast paced and hits hard. Perfect for me.
The music is soooo good, I love the main theme and find myself humming it literally all the time.
Great graphics but maybe a lil too many particle effects but otherwise really pretty.
The story is technically a pro. Like its good, not bad, not great, just good. Basically something you'd find in the YA Fantasy section, thats the kinda quality it was. Which isn't a insult I did enjoy the story and characters. It just needed polish, fix up the dialogue and trim some of the story fat and i wouldn't have any complaints tbh. Probably would do better as a book series tho ngl, not sure what game format would have saved it.
Shoutout to the accessibility options. I'm glad more games are including these. I'll never understand complaints about them though, like just dont use them if you dont want/need to thats it.
ALMOST FORGOT THE COOLEST THING. THE NAILS. I'm sorry but the idea of using nail art to inscribe magic runes to give you buffs is the coolest fucking idea ever, why has this concept not been used till now. We always see rune tatoos or written on gear and stuff im fantasy media but this is such a neat ideaaaa and im forever thankful for it. Her capes are cool too I guess, with there was more variety rather than recolors tho. Kinda wish we could also get different outfits for her tho. Those jeans probably chafe.
CONS
THE OPEN WORLD IS SO BIG FOR NO GODDAMN REASON. I honestly wish this wasn't an open world game tbh, its so unnecessary. Halfway through the game, i got so frustrated and ignored everything that wasn't story points cuz getting everywhere takes so damn long, especially early on when you dont have fancy parkour or stamina. Easily its biggest fault for me.
I understand they thought it'd do way better than what happened but planning out a story as a trilogy in the gaming industry is not a smart move. I've yet to play the dlc so idk if we get closure but the loose ends werent a great way for the game to end.
Oh, the dialogue. Its easily one of the gamest weakest points. Like the type of dialogue i was writing in my original stories when i was 13 (not that ive gotten any better tbh). Basically, it's not what you expect from such a vaunted company. Frey is great when shes excited or angry, which is most of the time, but occasionally, they'll hit me with the cheesiest line I've heard in years, and idk how to handle it. Like the stuff she says in the final chapter is honestly so robotic, there is no natural flow present. Which is a pity cuz the actress was killing it tbh, like she definitely carried the lines with her emotion. Unfortunately, it couldn't save them. Like if it was something they dropped on ps3 or wii, it honestly would have done fine. What i mean to say is the dialogue is very outdated in this age of gaming. im actually surprised how out of touch it feels. Especially since otherwise its a solid game all around. Regarding Cuff and Frey banter you do have the option to make it less frequent or just turn it off but i never really found them annoying regardless.
Maybe its just me but the control scheme feels so weird, the games makes you feel like you should be gliding most of the time but holding O while spaming all those trigger buttons feels so awkward to me. But then again I also didnt care enough to change the control scheme so.
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ladydaemon · 3 years
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SICK DAYS
kaz brekker x female! reader
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A/N: Yes, I realize how cliché and very non-Kaz this is. I tried my best guys, but I am in the mood for fluff and only fluff so yeah.
Summary: After a night in the rain, Y/N has a cold and it's up to Kaz to take care of her, a difficult task indeed.
Warnings: swearing, really horrible writing, not proofread writing, just me spitting out Words™ at three in the morning
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Dangerous assassins do not need sick days.
It was an extremely hypocritical thought, and Y/N knew it. She thought the thought anyway, because at this point, there seemed to be no aspect in her life that was not fueled entirely by spite.
"Please, for the love of the Saints, go to sleep, Y/N," Inej begged, forcing the woman back onto the bed. "You are sick. You need rest."
"I do not need rest, I need caffeine and waffles," the wheezing woman replied stubbornly, trying to get past Inej, who was blocking the doorway of her room. The Slat, usually thundering with noise and chatter, was silent as the grave - it was one of the rare days in Ketterdam where it was sunny, and everyone was either out enjoying the weather or enjoying pickpocketing someone who was enjoying the weather. "I am a grown-ass woman who also happens to be very good at using the bang-bang machines we call guns so please move aside, I need fresh air."
It was arguably entirely Y/N's fault that she was stuck inside in the first place - first, she had stayed out in the rain too long, despite Kaz's numerous protests. Second, she had, in a grave act of stupidity, gone down for breakfast the next morning. Normally, this would not have been a problem. However, on this particular day, her eyes were red and swollen and itchy and her lungs hurt and it was generally very obvious that she had a cold.
These were the deciding factors which led to her ultimate demise:
House arrest.
Though the fact that she was notorious for her spontaneous, impulsive, reckless, throw-caution-to-the-wind nature (along with the fact that Kaz, from multiple bad experiences he would rather not repeat, knew that she had nearly no self-preservation skills) probably had something to with it.
Also she apparently needed a chaperone. Which was probably a good idea, but Y/N wasn't about to admit that anytime soon.
"You are seventeen and you have a window, darling," the smooth voice of one Kaz Brekker, the devil himself, interrupted Y/N's feeble excuse of an escape.
"But Kaz," Y/N whined, pouting. Inej gave the man an exasperated look as if to say, See what I've been dealing with?
"Darling, you'll only have to stay here longer if you don't try and get better."
"Still."
Kaz, lips twitching in a very non-Kaz way, turned to Inej. "You can go. I suppose I'll play nursemaid."
The Wraith chucked darkly, already stepping out Y/N's window. "Good luck with that."
As soon as she had climbed out the room and was well out of earshot, Kaz turned on his heel and walked out. Y/N, thoroughly confused, took a second to contemplate whether this act was meant that she was officially free, or that she was supposed to follow him. Her question was answered a moment later when he called out, not sparing her a backwards glance, "Are you coming?"
She sighed dejectedly, following him up the stairs to hid room. With a flamboyant and smug bow, he opened the door for her. "Ladies first."
She rolled her eyes at him but entered the room nonetheless. Kaz closed the door behind him and strode heavily to his desk, taking the time to shuffle and order some papers. Y/N stood awkwardly in the middle of the room, unsure as to what in the hell she was supposed to do. Kaz flicked his eyes up to her and jerked his head towards the black-sheeted bed that occupied almost a fourth of the room.
She stared at it for a moment. "You want me to sleep. On your bed. While you watch." It came out more an incredulous statement than a question.
"Sorry to break it to you, but I can't devote all my time to taking care of you, and I also can't leave you alone unsupervised while ill. This is our compromise," Kaz explained somewhat impatiently.
"I am not going to get in that crusty-ass bed, that, in case you have forgotten, belongs to my boss, AKA you. For all I know you sleep nude."
One of Kaz's eyebrows twitched. "The sheets were changed this morning. And for the record, I don't."
"Still not going to do it. That takes the creepy-o-meter to like, a thousand."
"You're a criminal who spies on brothels. This is nothing."
"Still not doing it. This feels fundamentally wrong."
"I'll buy you a nice dagger if you just shut up and get in the damn bed." Saints, he was already exasperated, and he had barely been here five minutes. A new respect for Inej found its way into his being.
Y/N went quiet for a minute, considering. "One of the serrated ones with the fancy gilded handles?"
"Whatever dagger your heart desires."
"Two daggers and a gun."
"One dagger and a gun."
"Deal," Y/N decided, plopping down on the bed. It still felt wrong, but she did need a new dagger - Wylan had blown hers up in a previous job.
She carefully peeled the pristine sheets and blankets away from the mattress, half expecting a dozen poisonous things to pop out. The only thing it released was the strangely comforting smell of wood oil and ink (and a bit of gunpowder, but this was Kaz Brekker we're talking about).
Y/N slipped beneath the covers, her head resting comfortably on the cloud-like pillows.
I bet this bitch sleeps like a baby every night.
"I can still beat your ass, Brekker," she mumbled. Yeah, she was sick, but she also had a reputation to uphold.
"On a regular day, I have no doubt about it. Currently, you are prohibited from doing anything that isn't sleeping, peeing, or contemplating life. Doctor's orders."
"Well, I'm going to go pee then. More freedom." She attempted to stand up from the surprisingly soft bed but the in the second it took for her to try and stand, Kaz, moving surprisingly quickly for a man with a cane, pinned her to the bed by her shoulders with an exasperated sigh.
"Just stay still. Please," he breathed.
"Get me a sweet bun and maybe," she breathed back, but didn't move. Despite her almost child-like demeanor, she was one of the original Dregs, here as a child even before Kaz. He had been the only one her age when he had joined, so naturally, she had befriended him (well, as much as you can befriend Kaz Brekker). She knew about his phobia of touch, and how much it meant that he was touching her, even with his gloves on.
Kaz released her with a sigh and stalked over to his desk where he rummaged around for a bit until he produced a small tin that looked abut as old as he was. He tossed it at her and she grabbed it, opening it to see some biscuits that looked as hard as rocks. "That's all I have, and all you're going get. Don't break a tooth."
Y/N sighed, staring at the biscuits mournfully before taking one out of the tin and gnawing on it. It would have been easier to bite on the barrel of one of Jesper's guns. "You're mean."
"You're acting like a petulant child."
Y/N made a disgruntled noise from the back of her throat, sinking back into the silk pillows and wrapping the blankets tighter around her. She had made no visible mark on the cookie, and had only succeeded in covering it with slobber. She put it back in the tin and noticed Kaz wrinkle his nose at her.
She doubted the biscuits would ever see the light of day again.
She watched Kaz do his paperwork, a surprisingly interesting thing to do. He had taken off his hat and jacket, and rolled up his sleeves. He even took his gloves off, preferring to use a pen without the ridiculous slipperiness of the leather. The papers shuffled in a soothing rhythm, and soon, Y/N began to feel less cooped up and a bit more relaxed.
Ever since she had been taken away from her family and thrown onto the tiny slaving ship, Y/N had always had a touch of claustrophobia (well, it was a bit more than a touch, but she wasn't willing to admit that just yet). The tiny room with a mattress on the flooor was really just a decoration at this point - she slept on the roof most nights and every waking hour was in Ketterdam, simply walking if there were no pockets to be picked.
Drowsily, she watched as Kaz scratched something out on paper, his face creasing ever so slightly. The pen made a nice sound, she found, and paired with the strangely calming scent of his room and the rustling of papers, it made her feel almost like it was rainy day, the kind where you curled up by the fire and read a book or cuddled with someone.
"I doubt staring at my face will help you fall asleep, love," Kaz noted without looking up from his work.
"Your face is the most interesting thing here."
For the barest fraction of a second, Kaz looked like he had short-circuited. The moment was gone as soon as it came, however, and he simply raised an eyebrow at her. "You're very immature sometimes."
"Thanks!" Y/N said cheerfully. "It was the trauma."
"Trauma hardens people, it doesn't make them softer," Kaz dismissed.
"I agree wholeheartedly. However, there's a difference between an excellent mask and incompetence," she replied. "Now come over here and show what's bothering you, I can see it on your face."
Kaz looked up at her, noting the fact that she probably wouldn't shut up unless he did as she asked. He rolled his eyes, hobbling over to the bed. As he sat, she could feel his weight pushing the mattress down.
Before he could say a word, she snatched the paper in his hands and began scanning it. "What's wrong with it?"
"The numbers don't add up."
She stared at the document for another second, then back up at Kaz. "Who are you and what have you done with Kaz Brekker?"
He blinked at her.
"You forgot to carry the one. The numbers don't add up because you... well, added them wrong," she explained softly. She looked up at him, concern crossing her features. "Do you need a nap?"
Kaz huffed out a breath. "I'm fine. You're just distracting me, that's all."
"We're going to ignore the fact that you think I'm distracting and instead focus on the fact that you have not slept in several days."
Kaz's nostrils flared slightly in indignation. Before he could speak, however, Y/N cut him off. "Kaz, I have known you since I was eleven. I'm also not fucking blind. Yes, I know you are essentially running a mafia at age seventeen. Yes, I know you are under pressure. Yes, I know there is at any given moment a bounty on your head. Yes, I know I am sick and it is technically your job to take care of me. But can we please just make a deal or a truce or something in which you get some fucking rest?"
Kaz was quiet for a moment before the corner of his mouth twitched. "Always the mother hen for everyone except yourself."
She was startled into a laugh. "What can I saw, I was a born hypocrite."
Kaz did end up getting a couple hours of sleep, even if it was at Y/N's insistence.
However, he almost regretted it when Jesper barged in and, with a gleeful cackle, found them both sleeping in the same bed with one of his legs pressed up against hers - Kaz's version of flat-out cuddling.
Almost.
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You Get Sick in the Back of an Uber
AN: so this was a story i have had in my drafts for like three months and just never found motivation to finish it. i decided to finish this first out of my drafts because it was one of the ones that had the most already written for it. unlike some of my others that don't have much written yet. and this was supposed to be longer but i got lazy and ended the end with no dialogue and shorted the story. but i guess that's fine because the main part of this was the uber incident and not necessary the aftercare. (i just love to always include aftercare whether its with sex or getting sick. unless its a blurb) @harryhoney-bee suggested number 1. on my voting post so thank you for requesting i finish this one shot idea that was in my drafts.
This story contains: puke, drunken person, caring husband
{ husband!harry - dad!harry - Grammys 2021 Harry - 4 kids (any age you imagine) }
word count: 1765
When you drink too much at the Grammys, you end up having to get sick in the uber ride home and Harry cares for you.
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Back Story-
After the Grammys, Harry and I decided to go to the little after party that was being held for the Grammy attendees. We knew we couldn't stay too long because we had to get back home to our kids. They were currently with our babysitter but she couldn't stay all night. She has to go home at some point. So we made sure to watch the time.
At the afterparty, drinks were flowing. I haven't drank in a while due to the fact I had been pregnant not too long ago. This was the first night I was allowed to drink and I decided to do just that. Harry was aware of me drinking and promised to watch and take care of me. Though we were at this afterparty for him, he wanted me to let loose and have some fun as well.
But what he wasn't expecting was for me to drink the amount I did. I didn't mean to go over board. It just kind of happened. People handing out drinks left and right and next thing I knew, I was drunk. Not tipsy, drunk. When Harry noticed how drunk I was, he decided it's best to go home.
And because Harry also had drank some alcohol, he wasn't in a state to drive either. By no means was he as drunk as me though. Maybe just tipsy but he didn't want to risk it. So he decided to call an uber for us.
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Current-
We're sitting in the back of the uber on our way home. It's about an hour drive since the city is crowded with traffic due to the Grammys. Right about now is when I regret drinking any alcohol tonight. Because I haven't drank in over a year, my body isn't use to the poison running through my veins. So you could say I'm a lightweight now. My head is throbbing. My vision is blurry. My stomach is turning. Lets just say I regret all my decisions tonight that lead to me feeling this way.
"Harrrrry I don't feel good." I manage to slur out.
"You probably should have stuck to champagne instead of vodka my love." Harry responds, while stroking my hair out of my face in a gentle manner.
Another 10 minutes pass and I'm feeling very nauseous. I'm trying to focus on my breathing but it's not working.
"Harry my stomach hurts." I whisper with hooded eyes.
"Like you're gonna be sick?" Harry questions with panic.
I nod my head and hear Harry asking the driver if he can pull over.
"Can you pull over? My wife is feeling ill." Harry frantically questions the uber driver up front.
"I'm sorry sir but this freeway is packed and there is no way I can get to the side of the road right now." the driver says with a bit of an attitude.
Hearing that made me and Harry both start to panic.
"Well do you have any sick bags in here?" my husband asks.
"Sorry I don't." the driver retorts in a uncaring tone. What kind of uber driver doesn't carry sick bags for when drunks potentially need a ride but feel like they are going to be sick?
I just barley hear Harry let out a frustrated sigh and turn to me.
"Try and relax love. Take deep breaths for me, alright." Harry whispers while rubbing my back as I'm slumped over his body, too disoriented to even hold my head up.
About 3 minutes later, I feel vomit rise up my throat. There isn't much I can to do. The driver already said he couldn't pull over, nor does he have sick bags. I sit up from my slouched position and clasp a hand over my mouth. My legs are bouncing up and down. I'm trying desperately not to puke but I'm doing a poor job. Harry is sitting up with me, trying to comfort me but his words are all a blur at this point.
"If you have to be sick darling, let it out. I'll pay to get this uber cleaned, okay." Harry states in my ear. I know he'd rather not have me puke on the floor of the uber, right beside him, but he can tell I'm struggling and in discomfort.
Hearing those words was all the conformation I needed. I remove my hand from my mouth and let out a gush of alcoholic bile spew from my mouth and onto the backseat floor board. Harry gathers my hair in his hands so it's not in my face. My vomit splatters all over my legs and on the bottom of Harry's Gucci suit. I'd feel terrible about that if I wasn't so out of it, but my mind is a mushed up blur.
"Shhh, that's it. You're alright." Harry reassures me. The uber driver lets out a sigh of disgust, but this is truly his fault that I'm throwing up in his uber right now anyways.
Heave after heave, I let out more of the alcohol that was poisoning my system, right onto the floor. It's not a pretty sight. I'm having a cold sweat and my body is trembling. Though Harry has a weak stomach, when it comes to his wife (me) or his kids, he can always handle a bit of throw up. Or a lot like currently. It's like a fatherly/husband instinct that comes over him and he feels only adrenaline, not yuck.
Finally I feel my stomach relax and I sit up, breathing heavy with vomit dripping down my chin. Without thinking, I wipe it off with the back of my hand and smear it on my already ruined dress. "Feeling better?" Harry asks in a low tone.
"Mhmm." I hum, not really feeling like talking. My drunken brain has cleared up some from the majority of the alcohol being out of my system, but I still feel the after affects drinking brings. I just lean my head on Harry's shoulder for the rest of the ride home and allow the cool breeze to blow on my face. The uber driver did us all a favor by rolling the windows down so we didn't suffocate on the nasty smell of my sick.
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After-
When we arrived home, Harry payed the uber driver, not giving much of a tip and told him that he'd have someone clean his car out in the morning. As well as a half assed apology for my incident beings it could have been prevented. Then carefully, Harry lifted me out the uber and carried me into our Los Angeles home. Good thing our kids were all asleep because they shouldn't have to see their mother like this. Covered in puke and half drunk.
Harry took me to our bathroom and quickly ran down stairs to pay our babysitter, hoping she didn't question my appearance when she saw my state as we came through the front door. She didn't thankfully and left soon after her check was handed to her. Harry came back up to where he left me and helped me clean up and get ready for bed.
He stripped us of our vomit covered clothes and helped me into the big walk-in shower we have in our master bathroom. Then after he delicately washed our bodies along with my hair, he helped us out and dried us off. We brushed our teeth, me with the help of my husband because I was still a bit dizzy. After we're clean of sick and smelt fresh, he helped me put some panties and a t-shirt over my nude body and boxers on himself; just incase our kids woke up and needed us for whatever reason.
Harry helped me into our large bed and tucked me in, bending down to kiss my forehead. Then he walked down to the kitchen and grabbed a glass of water and a bucket incase I needed to be sick again at some point through-out the rest of the early morning. When he had all the items he intended to grab, Harry came back to our bedroom where I was already passed out with sleep.
So he just set the water on my night stand and the bucket on the floor, beside my side of the bed. Then Harry quietly exited our room and went to each of our child's bedrooms to make sure they were fine and still asleep like they should be, which they thankfully were.
When everything was done and taken care of, Harry turned the bedroom lights out and slipped in the covers with me. He helped my body scoot over and I cuddled into his warm body. I didn't realize it in my state of sleep but I knew when I awoke, I'll be thinking about how grateful I am to have a wonderful husband like Harry.
He takes such good care of me. He didn't get upset that I drank too much on his special night and accidently got wasted. He never once got upset that I basically got throw up on his expensive suit tonight in the uber. He didn't get annoyed that he had to shower both me and him past midnight, though he was exhausted. Harry loves taking care of me (and our kids) and wouldn't wish for any other life. Even when his life becomes chaotic and stressful. Harry loves his family dearly and his family love him just as much or more.
Masterlist (regular smut, fluff & sicfics)
My Favorite Harry Styles Fics MASTERLIST
Harry Styles Series - One Shots & Blurbs Masterlist
Harry Styles blurbs, concepts, & short stories Masterlist- (short writing with little to no dialog)
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sweettodo · 3 years
Text
a simple competition.
⟿ Hisoka Morow x freader x Chrollo Lucilfer
Includes : threesome, toys, smut, not even a good plot but yk, consumption of alcohol
word count : 2,7k.
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my last little surprise for you guys, some more threesum action .... here you go puppies. THX FOR 300 [ almost 400 rn :) ] <3 !!! your favorite men at your disposal... [y/n is aged].
fun fact, I'm eating takis rn, are these spicier than usual or am I imagining things ? i’m also watching ‘malcolm and marie’ AMAZING movie, i highly suggest it, the dynamic of the two is so detailed, such a good movie.
••
Maybe it wasn't a clever idea to drink, but once you attained that nice and warm sensation in your gut, there was certainly nothing stopping you from finishing the already half-empty bottle of pink whitney.
Laying sprawled out on the couch, staring at the ceiling as the room slowly spins around you. Content and relaxed with your position.
It wasn't your fault, Pakudona reassuring you that it wouldn't hurt to have a little fun tonight, that Chrollo wouldn't heed if you crashed here for the night, he was tipsy, manspreading on the other end of the couch, eyes puffy and glossed over, enjoying the quiet.
Music was playing thirty minutes previously, but as the night went on, one by one, the others hit the road to sleep off their intoxication, it was already past midnight.
One person had yet to leave, that was Hisoka... of course.
He wandered back into the living room, plopping down next to you and your friend on the couch, "leaving anytime soon? Y/n?"
You shook your head, "staying the night." Hisoka's arched eyebrows rise, a little smile tugging at the niche of his mouth.
"Is that so?" Chrollo sits up, staring at the kaleidoscopic man, a sarcastic undergone on his tongue.
"That's what happens when you drive here, and drink" You nod, "although I didn't quite intend on you staying the night, Morow." He hums, Hisoka pinches the corner of the thin card, waving it back and forth teasingly.
"I can't let you have our playmate all to yourself," you roll your eyes.
"It's not like that," you mutter, staring the magician in the eyes, "I couldn't leave if I wanted to."
"That is true," Chrollo interjects, "that doesn't mean you want to leave though, is it?" you shrug.
"No, I wanna stay, got an issue with that?" you ask, he shakes his head.
"Of course not- although, I suppose Hisoka would be better off on his way."
You estimated things would only get progressively worse from here, the moment Hisoka's bloodlust began to fill the air, you felt this was your cue; before you're able to leave the room, Hisoka's hand is fastened around your wrist, sitting you back down.
"Oh, you can't flee now," dread fills your face, "come on, we might as well finish the conversation."
You and Chrollo both knew what he was talking about. No matter how petty or pathetic, it appears to be that the rivalry between the two never seemed to subside, even drunk.
"Go on, since you have so much to say."
"Am I wrong for thinking my friend is a pretty girl? I seem to remind her more than you do."
"You seem to think you own her, it's pitiful honestly, " Blushing, you look down at your thighs, "do you think she's pretty, Chrollo?"
"I do. I think she knows that right?" you peek up at him, he gleams and tilts his head.
"Look at her, my, you must like us flattering you." You shake your head.
"That's because you neglect to tell her more often, does Chrollo ever call you pretty?" with Hisoka pushing Chrollo's every button, tensions were surging, both men now at the edge of their seats- literally.
"No, he doesn't," you speak, the magician letting out a deep chuckle, you felt like you were being scrutinized, the eyes burning into you felt poisonous and dour, you felt minuscule compared to them.
"I could do so much better than call you pretty, right kitten?" your heart sinks to your stomach, gulping hard. It was too hard to look at them in the eyes as you sunk further into the couch.
"Are we making you nervous?"
The inquiry continues.
"Yeah- you are." You retort, "you guys are talking about me like I'm not here."
"Then let's ask the lady herself, y/n." Looking up to meet Hisoka's gaze, "who do you think could take better care of you?"
Heart pounding out of your chest, your stomach filled with butterflies, "I- I don't know, I've never thought about it." Laughing, you look to see Chrollo, who's standing to his feet.
"I think I know a way to help you decide," smug smile peeking from his face, "unless you don't want to?"
A single nod is all they needed to know, Hisoka standing to his feet, seeing how you sat on the couch as still as a statue, "please don't be so tense, you know how good we are to you." Hisoka slowly picks up your hand.
He's steering you to your feet, "what do you have in mind, Chrollo?" the man leading you two upstairs.
"I think I have something that'll work out for all of us."
The dress you wore to this get-together now seemed like you were exposed, bare, and vulnerable, you knew what their agenda was, you didn't fancy the idea of being the center of attention.
Chrollo slowly clicking open his door, walking in, and promptly turning on the light, you're led to the side of his king-sized bed, his room was both contemporary and warm, comforting feeling; the walls a deep vermilion, the sheets plush, soft and black tones.
"We should leave it up to our little kitten to decide," the buttons on his shirt slowly coming undone, stopping at his sternum.
"What do you think, Morow?" Hisoka looks at you with low eyes.
"I'll go first."
Chrollo stalks towards you, sitting there falling apart at the seams, Chrollo's large and reaching behind your ear, thumb gently caressing your jawline, side to side, "you okay with this? Sweetheart?" you nod, the name sending jolts between your thighs.
Hisoka's rubbing your bare leg, sitting next to you on the mattress as his fingertips trail up and down, his hand stopping inside your thigh and pressing a leg open, Chrollo clasping your other knee and you lay on your back
"I'll get some time to please you, Hisoka gets the same when I'm done, yes?"
You're breathless, Hisoka grabbing you and pressing your back against him, his hands pinching the seams of your dress, "cute little dress- you should wear it more often for me." He hums, rolling it up, your thighs buckled together while lifting your back off the mattress, the dress sitting bunched up at your hips, the panties you wore sitting on your hips.
"My, who knew she would wear something so- revealing." Arms linking around your own, Hisoka keeps you completely locked in place.
"Did you wear these for me? Kitten?" Chrollo asks, shaking your head no.
Tugging at the little strong which hardly kept you covered, “I'll keep these, yeah?” you nod, the pants of Chrollo’s fingers barely ticking you, brushing against your already anxious body.
"Stay still for me, okay?"
"Okay." You breathe.
Hand leaning over past Hisoka, he's opening up the drawer beside his bed.
Your eyes widen at the sight of the little pink toy, compact in nothing bugger than four inches long, he sits on the bed in front of you, bringing the little object to your core.
He switches it on the lowest setting, the only noise in the room was the quiet buzzing of the vibrator as he barely touches your clit, the tiniest contact with the toy having your chest rise and fall, "keep these open for me, okay princess?" his fingers hook below your panties, pulling them down and placing them beside him.
"Such a pretty pussy, don't you think, Hisoka?" You're gnawing on your bottom lip from the teasing little touches with the toy, he was doing this on purpose; your legs laid open, the other man holding your arms to where you couldn't do anything if you wanted to.
"It is, I'm sure it's even prettier when it's cumming,"
Chrollo finally presses the vibrator onto your clit, he leans over your cunt, spitting, your mouth opens, the saliva hardly cooling your excited cunt.
He uses his free hand to finish unbuttoning his shirt, dropping it on the floor, he leans down leveled to your cunt, holding your leg over his broad and muscular shoulder, his tongue licking a stripe towards your occupied clit. Your body shakes, digging further into Hisoka's chest, he holds you tighter.
"Fuck, p-please!" you gasp, wanting to dig your hands into his hair, thrashing against Hisoka's arms, "let me touch-" your pleads fall on deaf ears, Chrollo’s tongue swirling into you in sinful ways, your legs twitching, the toy too much to handle.
The euphoric feeling of the overstimulation sending a pool of cream right onto Chrollo's tongue, lapping up every drop of you.
You were dizzy, Chrollo drinking up all of your essences, his hand pressed into your thigh to keep you from buckling onto him, your back grinding against the pressure of Hisoka's growing erection, his hands had grabbed the straps of your dress, one by one pulling them down and releasing your tits from the braless dress.
It's almost too good to be true- the man spending a dangerous amount of time eating your pussy like it was his very last meal, tasting everything he possibly could, the vibrator maintaining its spot in little circles around your swollen and screaming clit.
Ripping orgasm after orgasm out of your body, you're dripping sweat, he pulls off of you, your cum covering his reddish swollen lips, chin soaked. You looked a wreck, makeup streaming down your face, legs numb, his head coming to yours, he kisses your panting lips, releasing you from Hisoka.
The taste of your cum filling your mouth, his tongue licking past your bottom lip and into your mouth.
"Take this off." tearing at your dress, peeling it over your head, unzipping his pants, "you're gonna straddle me and stay still, is that okay with you, kitty?"
"O-okay, what about Hisoka?" Grabbing your hips, you straddle him. He raises you a little.
"He's gonna watch me make you cum a few more times-" hissing in the air as he assists you to slide down onto his cock, the stretch was unbearable, but you push through, trying not to slouch over in pain.
"-hurts, bad!" You sob.
"You take me so well, it'll only hurt for a second, promise."
His hand's move, one to your waist and one loosely around your throat as he holds you up to get a better grip on your already weakened body.
Keeping eye contact with Hisoka as your body is demolished by the man beneath you, eyes boring into you seductively, captivated by your mess of a face.
You felt as if you were being torn in half, crying out his name as he knew just how to fuck you; fucking your pussy just right.
Fucking you so hard you were going numb.
"Gonna cum! Gonna cum again!" you screamed, head falling back as you searched desperately for air, Chrollo rolling his hips into you as he released you, slumping to his chest, his chest stick from sweat.
"You wanna be filled with my seed, kitty?" Nodding in his shoulder.
"Please fill me- I want your cum,"
The feeling of his cum seeping down his cock and deep into your beaten-up cunt, his breath heavy against your ear.
You sit up, large arms wrapping from behind you and pulling you off of your straddle, Chrollo getting off the bed to clean himself off as Hisoka sits you on the bed, tucking your hair behind your ear gently, smiling as you look up at him, blurred eyes.
"My my, I don't think she can handle it, or can you?"
"I-I can, trust me." He smiles, pleased with your answer, his soft hands taking up your arm before leaning you back, onto your back, he was sweaty, so his shirt was clinging to his body, his hair was messily draped over his shoulders, pulling his tie loose while standing between your open legs, "let me see your wrists, princess."
He's leading you against the bed frame, linking your hands together and finishing off the knot around the post of the frame, the man getting on his knees between your legs, letting his shirt hand open as his hands work at his slacks, unbuckling the leather belt and tossing it to the side, "you look so innocent, tied up and quiet as a mouse, even after you just got fucked out," he pushes down his pants, erection throbbing from underneath his underwear.
The area between your legs throb, he was beyond ready to feel your walls tighten around him, he was ready to hear you begging for more.
He needed to one-up Chrollo.
He lifts your hips, your legs propped against his thighs while remaining restrained, his tip aiming into you accordingly before pushing into your beaten cunt.
His arm propped, flexing as he grips the headboard, drilling into your cunt with no tenderness, he spares you no pain as he ruts into you, ready to split you in half the instant he saw you spilling cum at the hands of his rival.
The size of him left you perplexed, the way he was splitting you open while bringing you to an indescribable state of heaven had you a sloppy mess, the thick cock he had with his veins filling in the little nerves you had yet to feel seconds earlier. He filled you, and he filled you well.
Hisoka fucks you until your head is blank, eyes seeing white, one of his hands gripping your hip, keeping you from laying fully on your back.
You try to cry put to him, and he notices.
He slows only slightly, rolling his hips back and forth into you so you can speak, "s-so good, it feels so good!"
Each rut of his hips sends you into oblivion, the way his hips bumped and clashed against your body left you spitting out a mantra of his name, Chrollo inches away from you, rolling your perked nipple in between his fingers, sending chills up your body.
Hisoka brings his eyes to you, "joining in, my friend?" Chrollo pulls his hand back, you almost find yourself whining.
“Did I fuck you better, y/n?” Chrollo taunts, his lips barely pressing against the life of your ear, “is Hisoka making you feel good?” Hisoka's beautiful golden eyes stalk you, waiting for your answer; stabbing right into your soul.
“Answer him, go on, kitten; did he fill you as good as I am?”
The questions were throwing you in for a loop, your stomach twisted, digging your head back deeper into the pillow of Chrollo’s bed.
“Fill me, please- daddy.” You cry, you longed to touch him, to feel his soft hair as he pummeled into you; you tugged on your wrists softly, already weak, the tied limbs going numb and tingling.
Before you know it, another orgasm is torn out of you; groaning out as you tightened and clenching around him, body once again convulsing, legs tightening around Hisoka’s waist. Each time they made you cum, the more came spilling from your cunt, it was almost unreal how much the bed was soaked, how soaked your thighs were, Hisoka’s pants being stained in the process.
This pretty little soaked pussy, sucking me in so good.” Panting, his head falls back, his dick quaver’s while his thrusts become more staggered, hand gripping tighter around your already sore hip.
His seed bathes both you and his cock, hips sputtering as he slowly slips out of your abused cunt. your head spinning, a panting mess at you blink and stare at the ceiling.
You could barely move, the men in the room throwing on clothes, hearing zippers, you lift your head.
Chrollo hands you a blanket, draping it over your body.
Sitting up, the blanket around you, you look at the two men who were fiddling around doing nothing but looming around the room.
While Hisoka buttons up his shirt, he tilts his head towards you, “tired, princess?” you nod.
A devious smirk dances on your lips, they look at you confused, “perhaps though, I might need another round, you know- to decide who was better.”
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stellarlex · 3 years
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Hi Stellarlex, I just want to know your take on the Volpina episode and whether you think Lila, Marinette, or both were wrong in that particular episode. For me, I could actually relate to Marinette/Ladybug in that episode because I've been in a similar situation. I don't agree with the way she handled the lies but I get why she was upset.
I remember when I was in middle school and one of my old classmates was spreading misinformation about me on purpose. I decided to confront her about it calmly to see if she was the one who spread those rumors. After I asked her, she had this guilty look on her face which confirmed it for me. However, I hated how some of my peers tried to pin the situation on me by saying that I was looking for a fight when I only wanted to ask if she was the cause of all of this.
Back to the Lila situation. I understand her to an extent since most people especially kids who lie to this degree clearly wants attention however my main issue with Lila isn't that she doesn't like being called out by Ladybug it's the fact that she doesn't like to be called out at all. She got so mad at Adrien for asking her not to lie anymore and he wasn't even mean about it. She actively chooses to lie and takes no accountability for her actions therefore I don't feel bad for her in these situations because most of them wouldn't have happened had she'd not lied in the first place.
Lila was wrong. 100%. Not Marinette.
The problem with Lila is that she doesn't just want attention. She wants worshippers. Fans. People to sing her praises for all the incredibly (FAKE) work she's done. She's a sociopath who is trying to kill Ladybug because she refused to fall in line with Lila's lies and called her out on it, and saved the boy she was trying to manipulate.
People want to say Marinette was wrong for calling Lila out the way she did, but the thing is, ANYONE that Lila lied about would be rightfully angry and have the right to chew her out for lying about them. Especially the kind of slander she said to make herself look better than a beloved superhero.
Marinette says she may have gone overboard but in my opinion, Lila got off easy. Anyone else would have sued her. Lila needed to be embarrassed like that because as we found out in Season 3, talking to her softly doesn't work. Her true nature came out, and its because Marinette embarrassed Lila in front of Adrien that she now knows that Lila is a viable threat. (Only because the other characters are dumbed down to believe her bullshit. It wouldn't work otherwise.) And it's why Marinette knows not to trust Lila or give her the benefit of the doubt.
Lila knows that what she's doing is bad and likes it, but she blames Ladybug for her own actions. She shouldn't have lied. Period. She got caught, she got embarrassed, and she should have taken her "L" and tried to change her behavior. But instead she blames Ladybug and tries to taint her reputation like calling her a liar to Adrien's face like in Chameleon, or telling Roger Raincomprix that Ladybug was "failing miserably" at taking down the akuma in Oni-Chan.
Marinette is not at fault for wanting to protect people (her job) from people like Lila, who have no problem exploiting others and hurting them in a city where Hawk Moth takes advantage of that. A bad day for someone is literally LETHAL to the citizens of Paris and yet Lila has no problem hurting others if it gets what she wants.
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rosemarycupcake42 · 3 years
Text
Hello hello everyone how are you?
My friends could tell this was coming a mile away-
So I got bored, I was angsty, so we have this beautiful piece of hurt comfort I believe?
Word count: 10k (otherwise known as 8k over the discord character limit)
Warnings: bad grammar, spelling errors, capitalization? Don’t know her, SADNESS, anxiety, talks of Rapunzel being a bitch to Varian
And no, we don’t like Rapunzel on this blog, not one bit
(Before we start, (Y/N) is your name, (N/N) is your nickname, and bold is memory Varian, italics are memory you
Coping Techniques
Varian 🧪 x reader
“Varian can’t calm his anxiety after getting back from getting kicked out of the castle, until he remembers something (Y/N) taught him, so he lets that memory guide him through calming himself.”
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He was in pain. No, not physically, although it certainly felt like it, but emotionally. He felt like someone was tearing at his heart from the inside out, and he could do nothing to stop it. It hurt so bad, but he didn’t want to burden anyone else, so he just sat there, hugging himself, digging his nails into his arm, waiting for the pain he knew would never go away to leave him.
Deep down, under all of his blaming and hate towards Rapunzel, he thought it was his fault.
If he had just stopped messing with the rocks like his dad said…
He pulled his head up from between his knees and looked at his father, encased in honey colored amber, lifting his letter to the sky as if some other worldly being would reach down and take it from him.
His eyes tear up again, and he quickly hides his eyes behind his knees.
He doesn't want his father to see him crying, even if he is encased in amber.
He would be ashamed, And Varian can’t handle that thought.
He digs his nails further into his arms, and hisses when he feels them break skin and the blood seeps under his nails.
He vaguely remembers some calming techniques (Y/N) taught him for moments like these, and he struggles to remember one.
There was one that seemed to work well for him before, and so he decided to try that one.
He remembers your voice clearly, guiding him through the steps.
It’s okay Varian, just calm down, and take some deep breaths.
He takes a few calming breaths, following his memory of you.
Now Varian, tell me 5 things you can see in this room.
Don’t worry about what they are, just five things.
Do you want me to go first?
He subconsciously nods, just like he did back then.
He hears you giggle, and for a second, he’s already calm, before he glances at his father.
Well let me see..
I see a.. Current Varian starts counting. 1. Dust bunny in the corner over there.
2. Your spare set of goggles.
3. The book stack on the table.
4. Those vials with that green stuff in them. It's called Chromium (Y/N).. Yeah whatever nerd, let's just keep going!
5. And that plate with a half eaten ham sandwich on it.
Varian can hear the memory of you laugh again.
Wow Varian, i thought you were supposed to love ham sandwiches, you always just gobble them up!
(Y/N) stop it! I just wasn’t hungry.. Okay Grumpy pants, I was just joking with you!
Well.. what comes next? Huh? Oh yeah!
Varian slowly comes back to the real world, wishing you were with him right now to help him again.
He thinks about the other things you told him, and starts from the beginning
“F-five things i can see..” he stammers.
“One, my lamp. Two, that puddle by my table. Three, That beaker of silver. Four, my apron hanging off the hook over the door. Five, the spill of Orthovanadate that I never cleaned up.”
Good job Varian! The next one is four things you can feel around you.
Remind me again what we are doing this for again (Y/N)?
Well it's just in case i’m not there for you and you need to calm down!
You-
You are going to be there for me all the time right?
I’ll do my best darling.
P-Promise?
I can’t promise that Var, but i’ll do my absolute best!
Something really bad would have to happen for me to ever not be with you okay V?
Please don’t say that (N/N), that’s scary…
Sorry Var, but i'll do my best to be there whenever i can for you.
Thanks.
Anything for my little Alchemy boy.
Varian snaps back, flinching.
He chuckled, thinking about how ironic it was that he made you make so many promises back then, and yet the very reason he was remembering this was because of a promise.
Her promise.
His nails dig further into the already bleeding wounds, and he hisses.
He shakes his head rapidly, and begins counting things he can feel.
“O-one, My goggles on my head. Two, the wind blowing through the cracks in the house. Three, The melting snow in my boots and Four…”
He looks around, and hisses when the bruises on his wrists from the castle guards rubbing against the wall next to him.
“And four, these goddamn bruises from Rapunzel’s guards.”
(Y/N)?
Yeah Var?
Uhm..
Can I guess what comes next?
Hey that’s a good idea!
Okay.. so we did 5 things you can see..
4 things you can feel..
So I'm going to guess next is 3 things you can hear?
Haha! You got it right Var!
I knew you were smart, dummy.
HEY-
Where’s your sense of humor darling?
I- i uh-
Under the bed.
Oh really then?
WAIT NO I DIDN’T-
HAHAH!!
Okay okay let's get on with it.
Three things you can hear. It will probably help if you shut your eyes to focus on sounds.
Okay.
Varian laughs, and then takes a deep breath, and closes his eyes.
“One… Chemicals bubbling, Two.. The wind rattling the doors hinges, trying to get in.
Three, Ruddiger pacing the floor.”
At the mention of his name, the raccoon bounds over to Varian, right as he opens his eyes, just in time to see a gray and white furball come tumbling into his arms.
Varian looks down at him, and gently cradles him to his chest.
“Oh Ruddiger, What do I do?” Varian sighs, and then laughs when he thinks about you calling him a “crazy raccoon boy”.
Varian? Are you-
Are you talking to Ruddiger?!
I KNEW IT!
Knew what?
I knew that you locking yourself alone in the basement with only Ruddiger and alchemy to keep you company would drive you crazy, but not THIS crazy!
Oh but (N/N), werent you talking to Ruddiger last night?~
Who- who told you that?
Ruddiger did~
RUDDIGER I THOUGHT WE PROMISED TO KEEP THAT TO OURSELVES-
I’m kidding!
but were you really talking to Ruddiger??
You're more crazy than I am!
Whatever, my Crazy raccoon boy.
(Y/N)!-
Ruddiger looks up at Varian, who has a sad smile, and chitters.
Varian shakes his head, and continues the calming method.
Can the smart boy guess what comes next?
Two things I can taste?
BZZZRT- WRONG!
Two things you can smell, then..
One thing I can taste?
Correct!
He takes a deep breath, and sniffs the air.
“One, I can smell chemicals, specifically sulfur, and Two, I can smell the- the blood from my nail marks.” Varian can feel himself getting dizzy at the smell of the last one, but he smacks himself and tries to avoid looking at his arms.
One more Var, okay? Try to remember all these, you never know when you might need them!
Can we go outside after this?
(He can remember you gasping at his comment) Why Varian? Did YOU just suggest going OUTSIDE?
Who are you, and what did you do to Varian?
I-ITS NOTHING!
I just figured you'd like to go outside instead of stay cooped up in here with me all the time…
Aww, how sweet Varian, but if you aren't comfortable going outside with me, I'll gladly stay here with you!
He smiles at your past consideration, and concentrates.
“One thing i can taste..” His eyes fly open.
“Ham Sandwiches!”
He takes a deep breath, and it's finally done.
He silently thanks you for the method, and thanks the gods that it worked.
Now that he thinks about it, he hadn't heard from you since the blizzard..
He really hoped you were okay..
He knows the blizzard is really bad, he did come back from asking Rapunzel for help…
Rapunzel…
She refused to help..
It’s her fault!
He shakes his head, knowing (Y/N) would hate to hear him thinking like that.
Speaking of (Y/N)..
His head jerks up when he hears the door upstairs open and wind blowing heavily.
He listens closely, and he can hear you calling his name while you struggle to get the door closed.
He jumps up and runs up the stairs, practically dropping Ruddiger and face planting.
He looks up from the floor, and gasps.
There you are, decked out in heavy insulated fur coats, there was snow all over you, he could barely even see the beautiful color of your hair.
Your lips were turning blue-
He shakes his head, banging it on the floor a couple times, why was he even looking at your lips?!
You looked down, and gasped as well.
“Varian? Why are you on the floor dear?” He sighs happily when he hears your voice, and opens his mouth to answer.
“You know what, don't answer that, come on, i'll help you up.” You walk over to him, gently grabbing his arms, and he hisses when you grab right where the nail marks are, and your hands brush the bruises on his wrist.
You set him gently in front of the fireplace, and grab his arms.
“Did you cut yourself with your nails again? I told you that you need to cut them..” you sigh, going to grab the things you need to clean his wounds and help with the bruising.
“How did you get these bruises?!” you ask, gently holding his wrists.
He responds, “Well I tried to get help from Rapunzel about my dad, but she wouldn't listen, and the guards dragged me away. By the way, (Y/N), thank you for that 5, 4, 3, 2, 1 method.” He weakly smiles, hoping that would calm you down, being able to see you get visibly angry the more he said about Rapunzel and her guards.
You sigh heavily, telling yourself Varian needed you more than you needed to beat up those guards. “I'm glad it helped dear.”
You bandaged his little crescent shaped wounds, and gently grabbed his wrist.
He looks at you in confusion, and you falter, before going along with your plan, and pull his wrists to your lips, and give them a gentle kiss.
You give him a closed eyes smile and respond to his surprised look, “Doesn't everyone say a kiss makes things better?”
He blushes, and pulls you into him, both of you tumbling to the floor before stopping.
You snuggle into his chest, mumbling something.
He looks down, still blushing. “What was that (N/N)?”
You back your head enough to speak cleary, and repeat yourself. “I need to beat up those gaurds later.”
He snickers, nodding, and wraps his arms tighter around you, ignoring his embarrassment, and more importantly, ignoring his pain.
You also wrap your arms around Varian, and after a couple minutes, he’s snoring.
You look at him, and run your fingers through his hair.
“Ill always be there for you Varian, Rapunzel be damned.” you nod off, both of you calmly sleeping, and dreaming of ways to save his father, his dreams much more sinister than yours, but both never once leaving each other sides.
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angellesword · 3 years
Text
MAGIC SHOP | JJK (14)
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Description: You and Jungkook were best friends who were in love with each other. What would happen when Soojin, your half sister who you’re trying to impress, told you she’s in love with Jungkook too?
Alternatively:
“Would you believe me if I said that I was scared of everything too?”
Pairing: Architect!Jungkook x Architect!Reader
Genre: childhood best friends to lovers, family drama, angst, fluff, idiots to lovers, pining, slice of life au.
Warnings: mention of abuse and drug addiction.
Chapter’s OST: Clean by Taylor Swift
Word Count: 4.5k
Series: CHAPTER 13 | FINAL CHAPTER (15)
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Hectic was the best way to describe how the past few weeks of Hoseok's life had been going. Not only did he have to deal with the tragic death of his father, but he also needed to convince you to help him make the Kims pay for their dues.
Fortunately, he was able to do this. He felt like there's a big progress in your relationship as well. His heart swelled with appreciation when you told him that you liked staying in his apartment. It's nice to feel like you were being taken care of. Hoseok was the only family member of yours (aside from Taehyung) who didn't make you feel like you were an outsider.
However, it looked like things were back to square one again. After the Board of Directors' Meeting, you became aloof. You still stayed in his home, yet he couldn't feel your presence.
You were like a ghost. You only left your room when you were sure he wasn't around.
Hoseok was rarely home these days because he was busy running a company. As expected, your brother got the position. He wasn't just the biggest shareholder of Castle Architectural Firm, he was also its newest chairperson.
Hoseok was responsible, obviously better than his father. Taemin practiced nepotism back when he was still alive, but your brother assured you and everyone in the company that he would never repeat the same mistake of his father. After all, nepotism was the sole reason why the accident in Myeong-deong happened.
Just because Soojin was his daughter, Taemin allowed her to lead a project which she clearly couldn't handle.
You thought all the Kims were the same, but you figured Namjoon wasn't like the rest of them. For the longest time, you believed that he would do anything to save his family, even if they're in the wrong. But your view of him changed the day he revealed to everyone that he knew about Hoseok being another one of Taemin's children.
Or were you wrong? Truthfully, you weren't sure. The only logical explanation you could think of as to why he would take the sibling DNA test with your eldest brother was because he wanted to help Hoseok too.
"Hey, I just got home." Your musing was abruptly cut-off when Hoseok tapped your shoulders. "My mom and I are heading out to lunch. Wanna join us?"
You cowered, too startled to see him standing inches away from you. Damn. Were you that lost in your thought to the point where you didn't hear him come in?
You were in the kitchen, preparing your own lunch before Hoseok arrived. You were planning on bringing your food inside your room because you didn't want to be around your brother.
"Next time. I already prepared my food. Thanks though." You moved away from him as you opened the microwave, taking out a slice of pizza.
Hoseok snorted. He didn't appreciate the way you're acting right now. He was tired even though he only worked half day today. All he wanted to do was to spend time with his family. His mother agreed to meet up with him because it's been a while since they last saw each other. Jiwoo was busy traveling the world. She made time for Hoseok today though. She also said she wanted to finally see you. Apparently, Hoseok always talked about you even when you still didn't know you two were siblings.
"Uh?" Your brows pinched when your brother snatched the plate of pizza away from you. "What do you think you're doing?"
You gasped and groaned as he shamelessly threw the pizza in the trash bin. You were ready to scold him, but Hoseok was already explaining his point before you could even open your mouth.
"You've been eating pizza for days now. Do you want to get sick?" His jaw clenched as he looked at you in disbelief, expressing his concern. "You can't act like this forever, sister. It's unhealthy. And for God's sake, if you have a problem with me just say it."
You scoffed at his audacity to say these things. Hoseok was acting like he didn't know why you're ignoring him.
It's impossible.
"Really?" You shook your head because of disappointment.
You never liked conflict. Fighting with the people you loved was the last thing you wanted, but Hoseok hurt your feelings.
"You lied to me." You inhaled sharply. You couldn't cry, definitely not when your brother was still acting like he was oblivious.
"I don't know what you're talking about." He even voiced out his confusion. Hoseok crossed his arms too, brows furrowed while looking at you as if you're cruel for accusing him of being untruthful.
"Please don't do this." You whined, causing him to cackle. Don't do what? You were the one being petty the past few days. Why were you acting like the problem was with him? And what's with the puppy eyes? Did you really hate misunderstanding that much?
"I haven't done anything, sister."
"Yeah you haven't—" You quickly agreed with a wince. And then you added: "—haven't told me that Namjoon-oppa knows you're our brother too."
You expected him to flinch, to look at you with soft eyes, or to say sorry for keeping it a secret, but Hoseok did none of these.
Admittedly, he barely reacted as he asked "that's it?"
You scoffed.
"Seriously?" You couldn't help it. You gawked at him too. "We're supposed to be a team here, oppa. How could you not say something about it? And...and not only that!"
You were panting because of how fast you were speaking. It's like you had suddenly exploded.
His casual reaction was what triggered you.
"You also didn't tell me that Jungkook sold his shares to you." It's not like you minded that he was now the biggest shareholder of the firm. You just couldn't accept the fact that you didn't know anything about this. Did he respect you at all?
"Yeah I didn't." He admitted so casually. Hoseok actually looked like the conversation was boring him. You didn't expect the confrontation to be like this.
Now you just felt silly.
And annoyed.
You were annoyed that he's acting like this was not a big deal.
It was.
It should be.
"You're unbelievable." You shook your head and walked out.
Hoseok caught your wrist though. He prevented you from leaving by tightening his grip on your skin.
The stare he was giving you was cold.
"I'm unbelievable?" Hoseok chuckled, low and expressionless.
You shivered, thinking that this wasn't right. You were the one who was supposed to be mad, not the other way around.
However Hoseok was determined to make you feel like this was all your fault—at least this was what you felt as he explained to you his reason.
"I'm unbelievable because I asked for help?" He threw his head back as he chuckled in a sarcastic way. "Tell me...Would you still push through with our plan if I told you Namjoon wants to help us?"
Namjoon found out about Hoseok on the day of the accident. Seokjin was tasked to look after Sin-ae and Soojin. Namjoon, on the other hand, tried to clean up the mess. He also found out that same day that Soojin was responsible for the accident.
Namjoon knew he couldn't let this go. Protecting Soojin and tolerating her wrongdoing were two different things. He was aware that correcting a mistake through another mistake would cause more harm than good.
Namjoon was clever. He knew he couldn't get rid of all evidence so he couldn't protect Soojin by sweeping the mess under the mat. It was proven to be true when he found out that Architect Jung had the original copy of the building's blueprint and other documents that were detrimental to Soojin's case.
Apparently Taemin gave Hoseok access to a safety deposit box containing important stuff related to the company. Hoseok was the only one who knew the passcode aside from his father.
Namjoon knew right there and then that the only option he had was to help Soojin surrender to the authorities. He also wouldn't want his sister to run a company when it's obvious she's not competent enough to do it.
He didn't tell Seokjin about this though. What's there to say? Namjoon didn't really ask Hoseok about his plan. He felt like he would feel less guilty if he knew less. Namjoon's only wish was fair treatment even though he knew Soojin fucked up so bad.
Hoseok agreed. He hated what Soojin had done but at the end of the day, he was still his sister. What he wanted was to simply hold Soojin accountable. It's up to the authorities to decide what to do with her. He was just a tool that would make sure she'd get what she deserved.
The litigation was still ongoing, but they had to detain Soojin. It's because all evidence pointed at her. Your sister had multiple civil and criminal cases, one being gross negligence resulting to injury and death.
"Would you allow Jungkook to sell his shares to me?" Hoseok added, his jaw setting irately.
The look you gave him was incredulous.
"Why wouldn't I allow that?"
Hoseok was offending you. There's no reason for you to stop Jungkook from doing that because if you were being honest, the act actually helped.
"You tell me." Hoseok challenged. He let go of your wrist so he could fold his arms over his chest. "You're stubborn. You hate asking people for help. I've seen you all these years, you know? I've seen you turn your back on the people who love you. Honestly I don't know what's with you and Jungkook but it doesn't take a genius to see how much you hate the idea of him offering his hand for you to grab."
There's a pregnant pause in the air. You felt attacked. Hoseok wasn't the only person who said this to you. Taehyung did too, and you hated how harsh and right they sounded.
Was this seriously your fault?
"You like to give and give and give." Hoseok wasn't done torturing you. "But you never take and then you wonder why you're miserable all the time."
He let out a deep breath.
"You know very well now why I didn't tell you the truth. This time I want you to answer my question honestly..."
He paused just to swallow thickly.
"Why do you always refuse the love Jungkook gives you? The love we give you?" Hoseok bit his lip to stop the other question from escaping his lips.
You understood it though. You knew what he wanted to ask even though he didn't voice it out: why do you accept such abuse? From Taemin? From Soojin? From your mother?
Because it's the only kind of love I know. This was the answer to his unspoken question.
"Because it's not the kind of love I know." And this was how you responded to the question he had managed to voice out.
It took you many years, decades even, to finally admit that.
You had been keeping this reason to yourself for many years because you were certain no one would understand. People longed for unconditional love and affection, meanwhile you couldn't associate these feelings to how you viewed 'love.'
What you thought love meant was pain and suffering. It's very different from the love Jungkook made you feel.
He gave you hope, sincerity, patience, and most importantly: kindness.
Jungkook was so kind that it scared you. Because what if you got used to this feeling and then suddenly it vanished?
Would you be able to handle it? Would you be able to find something like this again?
"You won't understand it, Hoseok-oppa. You won't understand that I don't want people to save me or to give me everything. I don't want anyone to fix me." You had been saying this for a while now. If you remembered it correctly, you even told this to Jungkook. You hated when he tried to get involved in your business. Love wasn't supposed to be like that for you. It's not your love language. You didn't want that heroic kind of love, the one where your partner would drop everything just to be with you.
Us against the world? It's a fairytale.
You didn't like fairy tales.
But Hoseok snickered at this.
"Why? Are you telling me you're so used to pain that you can't stomach the idea of people loving you right?"
You didn't answer.
You were pensive: was there really a standard way of loving someone right? Some people wanted this. Some people wanted that. You didn't even think you fully understood the meaning of love.
Sometimes it made you cackle when they said they loved people without any reason. But then you also furrowed your brow and let out a puff of air when people said they fell in love with the sound of someone's smile, or the way their eyes lit up.
"I know I don't have the right to interfere. It's your life but I care for you and I want you to find happiness. You don't have to be scared anymore, you know? It's over."
He was saying that the pain was over. Soojin and her family couldn't hurt you any longer. Your father had been absolved from the criminal responsibility too.
Justice was being served.
You could rest now. You could finally think about yourself without feeling guilty all the time.
None of these was your fault. You have done your best to help.
Hoseok pulled you into an embrace. You didn't squirm against him.
"Promise me you'll talk to him, okay?"
The right thing to do was to agree, so you did by nodding your head and hugging him back.
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Hoseok ended up convincing you to join him and his mother for lunch. Surprisingly, it went well. Jiwoo was sweet and soft. She's nothing like Sin-ae.
"You wanna join us for some ice cream, love?" Jiwoo asked you after lunch. She said she knew this certain ice cream parlor that sold the best mint chocolate ice cream. It's their family's go-to dessert shop ever since Hoseok was a little boy.
"Oh, I'd love to but I actually have somewhere else to be." You smiled apologetically.
Jiwoo said it's a shame but that she understood. Your brother wasn't buying your excuse though. He felt like you'd just go home and lock yourself in your room. You tended to do that after a really good day. It's a defense of yours. You were protecting your heart because every time something good happened to you, bad news would follow right after.
"Where?" Hoseok lifted an eyebrow.
"Uh..." You paused, contemplating whether to tell him the truth or not. In the end, you chose to give him a vague answer. Not a lie, but not the truth either.
"I'm just going to meet someone."
Your brother's face lit up, thinking that you were referring to Jungkook. You knew this, but didn't bother to correct him despite having zero intentions of meeting up with your best friend.
"Take care, sweetheart. Don't mind your brother, he’s just being protective. But be safe, okay?" Hoseok's mom engulfed you into a hug.
It warmed your heart. This was your first time seeing her and yet you already felt comfortable. You wished she's your mom, which to be honest, was a terrible thing to say, especially when you're on your way to visit your real mother.
It was an impulsive decision. Years ago, you swore to yourself that you would never contact your mother even if you missed her terribly. This was what your therapist recommended too, saying that you couldn't keep seeing those people who hurt you.
It's easier said than done. Having lunch with Hoseok and his mother caused a pang in your chest. The longing you felt was so intense you're convinced you'd end up having a heart attack if you didn't see your mother.
See.
You promised yourself you'd just ‘see’ her. Just a glimpse was enough. You even wore the hoodie of your jacket. You didn't want her to recognize you. You'd just observe from afar.
You doubted she remembered you. It's been what? More than a decade? Since the last time you saw her? You grew up. You were no longer the teenager who cried and begged the grownups to let you be with your mother.
The tears had dried and the shaking had stopped.
Or so you thought.
It was a shiver at first, and then your body trembled when you saw her nodding her head as she listened to the stranger speaking.
Yunhae. This was the name of the stranger. She was an addict trying to get better. Your mother and the rest of the group listened to Yunhae's story, some of them looked at her with sympathy, some of them remained impassive—like they had heard this same story a thousand times before and watched it all go down the drain.
In the end, they'd relapse. Just one taste, one sniff, one feel...and then they'd fall down the rabbit hole.
Your mother's eyes made you release a breath though. She wasn't staring at Yunhae like she'd disappoint her.
Hope. This was what you could see in your mother's eyes, however you realized that she wasn't really looking at Yunhae.
She was looking at you.
You panicked as you instantly turned away from her. She wasn't supposed to see you. She wasn't supposed to remember your face.
You were a fool for thinking this way. No mother could ever forget their child's face.
She was certain it was you even though you didn't turn around when she called your name.
You walked faster, desperate to leave the room. Sadly your mother didn't have a plan to let you go.
She ran after you, grabbing your wrist which forced you to look at her.
She called your name again. This time, uncertain. She examined your face, as if she'd get a perfect mark by staring at your eyes. The same eyes that used to look at her with so much love.
Your eyes were still soft, but she couldn't feel the sparks.
"It's me..." You finally admitted the truth when she caressed your face with quivering hands. Tears filled her eyes.
It's you.
"You're here..." And you're really here.
Was she dreaming?
"Yeah, but I need—"
"Can we talk?" She cut you off, afraid to hear you say you couldn't stand to see her face anymore. She thought you hated her and frankly, she couldn't blame you.
Hate was a strong word, but if you felt this way, she was sure it's warranted.
"Please." She begged and just like before, you gave in.
You were still weak when it came to her.
"Thank you. C-Can you wait for a second? I...I just need to—"
"Go ahead." You interjected because it's obvious she's panicking. You realized she wasn't sure how to tell you what she had to do first.
"I'll be right back." She promised before going back to her circle. Yunhae was still talking. Your mother felt bad for leaving them and asking Yoon-sung, one of the members of the group, to take the lead, but they could manage without her.
This was probably the only chance she had with you. She couldn't mess this up.
"Let's go?" Your mother smiled at you. You didn't show any sign of displeasure so she started walking as you followed her out.
Your mother brought you to the garden of the church building. You still found it hard to believe that your mother spent most of her time inside the church, but oh well. It's not like she had a choice. CA meetings were usually held in this kind of place.
From what you had heard, your mother was actually leading the CA meeting. She went from being a junkie to a respected leader.
She had come a long way.
You could see she's proud of it too.
"I'm sorry to keep you waiting. I can't leave them without a substitute." She smiled apologetically at you.
You folded your arms over your chest.
"I know. That's why you entrusted the group to your boyfriend, right?" You refused to look at your mother. It wasn't because you didn't approve of her choice in men, but you couldn't help but be wary.
"You know about Yoon-sung?" She was flustered.
Your lips curled up. Who wouldn't have thought that you would see your mother like this? Back when you were a child, you thought she wasn't capable of feeling other emotions aside from anger and frustration.
"No, but it doesn't take a genius to know. He kissed your cheek and looked at you like—" You abruptly stopped upon realizing what you're about to spill:
He looked at you like the way Jungkook looked at me.
Your mother noticed the way you froze, but she knew better than to ask. You weren't comfortable around each other yet. She had no business teasing you or prying information out of you.
"I see. I thought Jungkook told you about Sung and I..."
You whipped your head back at her. What did she say? Did she just mention your best friend's name?
Your mother confirmed it.
"Jungkook knows about my relationship with Sung. He used to t—" But she stopped speaking when she saw confusion painting your face.
Realization hit her.
"You didn't know."
Damn right you didn't. Jungkook never told you he went to visit your mother.
"Since when?" Your jaw ticked. You weren't mad, just...baffled. Why didn't he tell you?
"S-Since you were sixteen." She gulped while you sucked in a deep breath. "He visited me while I was still in rehab...and then in prison...and then...here."
Your mother had been through a lot. Your best friend somewhat helped her through it all. But if Jungkook was being honest, he'd say that the only reason he visited your mom was because of you.
He knew how important your mother was to you. He simply wanted to make sure she was doing okay so as not to worry you. Jungkook also asked her how to help you. He was certain that some things were difficult for you.
You barely ate and slept the first few months you had been separated with your mother. Jungkook wanted to learn how to soothe you. He was aware that despite all the pain your mom had brought you, she was still the only one who knew you well.
She knew the right way to brush your hair when you're trying to go back to sleep after waking up from a nightmare, she knew the words to say to manipulate you into doing what she liked. Jungkook wanted to learn this, but not to manipulate you but to make you feel at ease.
It hurt seeing you cry. It hurt seeing you suffering. He wished he could take away your pain.
"He told me all about you. I know I don't deserve it but it's the only thing that kept me sane. Thinking that at least you're...living your life out there."
There was a lump in your throat. Had you really been living? What were the things Jungkook told her? You wouldn't know if he lied to make your mother feel better because when you were with Jungkook, you were the happiest. Maybe he saw it too. He saw how your world brightened because of his presence.
"He's a good kid. Jungkook..." Your mother wiped her tears you didn't even realize were falling. "He did the things I was supposed to do. He made you happy, he loved you, and he took care of you..."
You could see gratefulness dancing in her face. This was the first time you had seen your mother look this way. She looked happy and content. She glowed.
"I owe him one."
This information pained you. Jungkook helped you and you appreciated and hated that. How could he think about you when he was hurting too? His father died shortly after you were separated from your mom.
He offered you support and you didn’t even bother to ask him if he was okay.
Why was he like that? Why did he love you so much?
This very moment made you realize that just like your mother, you owed something to Jungkook as well.
"Yeah. Me too..." And so you found yourself saying it too. It's the truth. Jungkook had helped you in ways you couldn't even imagine.
You didn't know it but the only reason Jungkook sold his shares to Hoseok was because he didn't want to compete with you. Admittedly, he even sold the shares below the fair market value. He sold it at cost, but not because he was dumb.
He just told your brother this: "I didn't lose, sunbaenim. I won. That's just money, but what you're gonna give her is your support. Promise me you'll take care of her, that you will not betray her."
You said you didn't want him to help you so he did it indirectly. Hoseok helped him help you.
"Will I see you again?" Your mother asked after a few moments of silence. You two talked about small things for the past thirty minutes.
You already considered this a long time, especially because you still didn't trust her. You didn't have any more stories to share. You ran out of topics for small talk.
You told her your father died though, but apparently, she already knew. It's all over the news anyway.
"Uh, I'm not sure..." You winced.
You had been working home for the past weeks. You knew your boss only allowed this because you were still grieving, but it's time to go back to reality again.
"I'm thinking about flying back to New York next week." You didn't know why it hurt to say this. A part of you was begging you to stay.
"You're thinking about it..." She repeated thoughtfully, as if processing your words.
You could only nod.
"That means you're still undecided."
Were you?
Yes, you were. Because if you had made up your mind already, then why were you still here? You were finished with your job here. There's no reason for you to still stay.
Right?
"Listen, I know I'm pushing my luck here, but do you...want my advice?"
It's strange...to hear this coming from here. People who knew the real relationship you had with your mother would probably laugh if they hear her saying this.
Since when did she care about you? Since when did she care about the decision you're struggling to make?
Could it be that she really changed? Was the past decade really enough to change a person?
You guessed so—this was what you thought as you remained frozen, waiting for her to say something that might change your mind.
She did.
She said something that made your heart painfully twist in your chest, a harsh reminder of why you were alive and why you got hurt in the first place.
She did something she wasn't supposed to do, and now she wished you wouldn't make the same mistake too.
You had the advantage.
Your mother smiled—warm and gentle—as she said: "Don't throw away the love you can freely have. Some of us aren't given that choice."
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smolstarthief · 3 years
Text
Persona 5/Persona 5 Strikers: Pro-Police or Anti-Police?
Hoo boy... So this honestly has been a LONG time coming on my end because I have seen so much of that debate on social media (Twitter namely) and I can see the points of BOTH sides but there have been moments where it just got out of hand... Especially whenever people tried to put in a more grey/nuanced take only to be slammed and taken out of context. Even repeatedly mentioning the interrogation at the beginning of P5 which, I will admit has gotten tiresome. At least for me, I do still feel for Joker and I wished the game acknowledged his trauma more but there's a thing called, "beating a dead horse" and this is one along with "Haru says ACAB" in Strikers (which was done THREE TIMES in the same arc and it got annoying fast, like shut up already! We get it!). So, let's dive in a little bit:
MAJOR SPOILERS UNDER THE CUT!!!
Persona 5/Persona 5 Royal
Now let me just say I know! Police in Japan are just as bad if not worse than the West and I STILL hate the idea of Makoto wanting to become a cop for such naive reasons (especially with what happened to Sae, her own sister!)... But there are at least some of form of nuances sometimes and by that I mean, I can see what they were trying to do? I do agree that P5/P5S backpedaled SEVERELY by deciding to sweep issues under the rug after addressing them and not continuing from such. In fact I feel like it could have been a hell of a lot better. But P5 did something different compared to previous games and addresses the issues DIRECTLY right at the beginning of said game! It was tense and horrifying, but needed. Of course... They then sweep it under the rug and act like nothing traumatic happened to our protag which is NOT a good look at all and I'm still pissed off about it. In the main game's case, it's portrayed as more black and white with only a SMALL amount of nuance like that cop that was trying to help Futaba when she went out by herself and got lost (which people ignore entirely by the way). So I CAN see where people got the "anti-police" message from... But that's only the tip of the iceberg as it's ACTUALLY more about Systematic Corruption, not exactly or JUST police corruption. Namely in politics with Shido and the Conspiracy (which is apparently still somewhat around in Strikers until Owada's downfall) controlling everything all the way to law enforcement. The force had been basically under his payroll (including the corrupt SIU Director before his death) whether by force or not (mostly not in this case though). Now honestly, the police depicted there are undoubtedly rotten to the core save for a VERY SMALL handful (the cop that was trying to help Futaba which, again, gets ignored by several). Look at the interrogators who ruthlessly beat and drug a minor without any second thought or remorse for example. But again, the black and white narrative the game kept unwittingly doing ended up being to its detriment in a way. I'm not defending those assholes AT ALL! They deserved every punishment given to them! But for a game that goes on about grey morality... It doesn't quite deliver on that. Still though, it does emphasize that it's more of the fault of the whole corrupt system, not just one part of it. There needs to be change and reform which is what our MCs were trying to do in a way (more like inspiring change but still). In the end, it's all about the following:
Corruption and abuse of power.
Again the police depicted in this game were incompetent at best, corrupt at worse with very few silver linings. But it's not just them but rather the one person responsible for the whole mess. Who had them under his payroll? Who controlled them and by extension all of Tokyo? Who was willing to dispose of anyone who "outlives their usefulness" or is perceived as a threat to what he wants (including his own family)?
SHIDO AND BY EXTENSION THE CONSPIRACY
Bottom line: They are definitely a problem but it's not just them.
"But, Joker and his trauma?"
I definitely understand that and still do. I fully believe he has and still has trauma with the police. Easy! But... I do feel like people go too far with it sometimes. It's hard to explain but there have been moments where people either use it as a justification/argument against someone trying to provide a more nuanced view of things or... Dare I say, depict him like a "uwu soft traumatized boi." Like I said, it's hard to explain on my end so feel free to ignore it. Everyone deals with trauma differently so there is STRONG chance that I'm overanalyzing it. I just remember moments where I just feel a little, I guess annoyed? I'm not sure exactly but final thing: I understand what he went through and I can't imagine how long it would take to recover but I hope he DOES overcome it.
"Sae? Akechi?"
Yep, even though their jobs are different, they are by and large members of law enforcement no matter how you spin it. Both were broken in a way. Akechi is pretty easy to explain with how Shido negatively impacted his life but not much about Sae, who dealt with sexism/misogyny at her workplace along with the trauma of her father's (also a cop) death. She no doubt had some idealism only to be hit with the fact that she's gonna have to use underhanded/downright illegal tactics to get by and even rise up the ranks. She, therefore ended up (well, nearly) corrupted herself before coming to her senses. That's honestly one of the BIGGEST REASONS why I felt like Makoto joining the force to become a police commissioner isn't a good, even a downright naïve, idea. I honestly would have been somewhat fine with it if it weren't for that fact among other things. Regardless of her willpower, it will go south fast.
Now... Onto Strikers!
Persona 5 Strikers
Since the game came out and I started playing it, I still feel like the system is still beyond saving, especially when attempting to do it from the inside. But I don't mind the added nuances that P5 didn't do much of. It's still continuing the critiques, just shows more of what does happen within said system and even has an ACTUAL officer (Zenkichi) say, "Yeah, my job sucks, everyone's corrupt, there are much better ways to do things and make a change but not this. I'm only staying because I have a daughter to take care of and it's all I know. I'm no different from them." Was it all handled well? I wouldn't say "yes" (Joker's trauma is BARELY addressed at all of course) but a little better than what P5's narrative did which only addressed the issues but not exactly follow up on them. Now to be fair... In the system, regardless of where you live, any one within it who remotely tries to do something or speak against it either lose their jobs or even go "missing" irl. Those have happened and it's more proof that yeah, it's rotten to the core. There's no denying it but regardless, that's NOT what the game is about at all. At least that's what I feel about it as it's only PART of the narrative. I think Zenkichi puts it best here:
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Speaking of Zenkichi... Oh boy... Now I definitely understand some of the criticisms with him but honestly, he was the best written (PT) character I've ever encountered! He was honestly the perfect representation of those that genuinely want to help and do good, only to be held back by an extremely harsh reality. It was already hinted at with Sae but here? It 100 percent confirms just how harsh and even cutthroat it can be if it could break someone's idealism so badly. Even Kaburagi of all people thinks the same thing Zenkichi said:
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Then there's his past and it's a tragic one! But let's look more at the decisions he ended up making:
While it was no doubt done to protect his daughter, he ended making a selfish decision along with a selfless one (which was brilliant!) with not only allowing the cover up of his wife's death and denying justice for her, but also ruining an innocent person and their family's lives.
It's horrible, but also... There's a grey area/nuance as with the rest of his character. It was both understandable, but also wrong as he, as Akane's Shadow puts it:
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He sacrificed his values, his morals, all for the sake of having a peace of mind. Speaking of Akane, she's also an interesting case in a way that she more or less perfectly represents the more "black and white" views on justice in general. Namely the more toxic/biased kind. Her reasons are also understandable but she was also acting selfishly by only focusing on how SHE was effected by Aoi's death and not even considering those that were also grieving her death and/or that people grieve/handle grief differently than her. But back on topic.
Her own views and beliefs that law enforcement basically SHOULD be dismantled (mostly out of said childish bias and black & white views) and it's framed as WRONG and it's very much correct on that. Chaos and order are two sides of the same coin, one can't exist without the other. When I say ACAB, I'm calling for reform, defund, have the corrupt held accountable for EVERYTHING and even face jail time for their crimes! Defund the police, have the ones that arrest, harm, and even murder out of bias (race, gender, etc.), lose their badges/jobs and locked up, make improvements! It's saying that there IS still corruption out there and there's no denying it. But fully eliminating the law in general will just lead to more problems. Now granted, she's young and clearly doesn't fully understand why those views are ultimately wrong but still... It was a very interesting subject to tackle and I feel like they handled it well.
Now back to Zenkichi, he was at first in denial about his decisions ultimately being the wrong ones too and even tries to justify it. Of course, his Shadow said otherwise and that was when he finally admitted that he really did act no different from the criminals he despised. But it also doesn't mean he can't redeem himself and that's what ultimately leads to his new resolve:
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That right there along with everything else! There's the nuance! And ultimately despite some hiccups, Strikers handled the grey morality and nuance beautifully! Especially regarding law enforcement! Dare I say, even better than the base game! It continues the critiques with no problem but also showing different sides and areas of it! There is good and evil, but what about in-between? What about the more greyer area? It still says that there IS corruption, sometimes even beyond saving but... Sometimes a small silver lining is hidden somewhere.
Now, the ultimate question:
Is P5 & P5S (namely the latter) Pro-Police or Anti-Police?
Personally, my answer is this: Neither.
Why? What theme do they both have in common?
JUSTICE
Someone puts it best on Twitter that the games are more pro-justice and I fully agree!
P5/P5S gives the idea about following your OWN justice, your OWN moral code and rules, paving your OWN path and not let others dictate it! That's what the MCs ultimately start to learn in both games. Therefore it's pro-justice. Again, do I agree that the system is beyond saving? Yeah. Do I at least acknowledge and understand what the narratives are trying to say and nuances regardless even if I don't agree with some writing decisions (ex: Makoto wanting to become a commissioner despite everything)? Also yes. But at the same time, don't judge a book by its cover for other people (not just law enforcement and politics mind you). Especially some that genuinely DO want to help at best. That there is nuance and greyness, just have to look closely. Some of the MCs are still TERRIBLY written and executed (even annoying) but the message was still somewhat there.
Final Thoughts
Now I fully understand how you all feel of course! I still believe in ACAB and even I agree that maybe I'm one to talk and have a lot more to learn about the world... This is just my own attempt at putting my own two cents in. If you disagree, that's fine! This is just what I've felt should be at least talked about more often. And I tried to phrase it as best as I can without coming off as insensitive or ignorant and if I did, I sincerely apologize for that! I'm not trying to say, come off as a "bootlicker" or any of the sort. I'm just trying show discuss more of the grey areas and nuances that are, more often than not, constantly overlooked. How one interprets both games is ultimately up to them. You, the player. And this is my own interpretation. Simple as that. I hope you all have a good day/afternoon/evening!
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Text
Rabbit iiiiiii
Ending.
Want a chapter two? Let me know!
Draco finds a Hufflepuff attempting to cheat. He torments her, keeps her under his wing becoming possessive , unsure of his feelings. After turning Reader into a Rabbit he realizes how much of an ass he was. But now hes in Azkaban for his crimes.
A/n. Okay. So i asked Multiple people. “What happens in Azkaban?” They all said “you sit in a cell.” And im sitting here like. “I cant write that.” So THIS is what i came up with. I hope its okay :/.
W! Mind games, self injury(scratching), fear of going insane, Draco gets kicked and punched around.
@khemz1312 @goofygobber @rosiehufflepuff @trashyvicks
“Cheers love”
Draco said once you vanished from his sights, he never thought the twins would help you come see him, or anyone for that matter. Of all people, he was not exactly the most loved at Hogwarts. The man looked both ways down the very long hallway not seeing anything except for darkness. At least no one would bother him while he was thinking.
He made his way back to his spot under the window to think about his actions; maybe he went a little overboard with how he handled catching you. But a teacher? That's not as fun. Draco looked down at his hands counting the cuts all over them, he had the most on his palms and around his fingers. He was very roughed up, as soon as he got here the dementors were not very kind to him. Draco blinked his eyes feeling sleepy and slightly cold. He rolled his eyes leaning back on the wall reminiscing the time he turned you into a rabbit.
You were so cute like that; so little, curious, fit right in his pocket. Dracos hands fell to his sides and his eyes started to close. You had gotten used to him when you were a rabbit…
So tired…
When he got out Draco wanted to master the spell to change humans back whenever so he could turn you into a rabbit again. If you let him of course, he laid down on his side, holding himself.
Fading….
His father.. What would he do about that? Obviously he could not take you home . Maybe a flat of his own would be better. And that shop? It made him smirk as his eyes started to close. Cute..
Footsteps could be heard and they were getting closer now. It woke Draco up from his slumber which he was not happy about. The one time he was actually getting some sleep in this place.
“Dinner already?’ he asked, in a condescending tone as he got up to rest his back against the wall. “Is it more than bread today?”
The cell opened and closed after the figure stepped in. Draco scrambled to his feet with wide surprised eyes,“..Father?”
“Not the best cell.. But it suits you.” the man said, dusting the dirt off his clothes.
“What are you doing here? Who let you in?”
“I'm here because I have unpleasant news for you.” he took off his gloves while he spoke.
“..news?” Draco stepped over to his father.
“That girl you turned into a rabbit is dead.”
“..she… shes ……….” Draco went as far as the chain would let him to his father. His ankle was straining against the cold tight cuff link. “H..ho-w…”
“Quiddich”
“What?.. But she doesn't fly! She doesn't have a broom!” the man grabbed his fathers coat shaking it, asking him multiple questions just for Lucious to throw him off and kick him away from him. Draco hit the cold brick wall on his side in the corner. He held his head trying to process this , he was hurting inside and out.
“They needed one more , and you were not there so I suggested...”
Draco glared over at his Father, who looked rather proud of himself. His hands went to his hair white knuckling them. “You…”
“She didn't last long, it was a waste.” Lucious stepped to his son grabbing his chin so he was looking at him. “And to think she would still be alive if you just left her alone”
“Its not my fault!” Draco shoved his father just for him to strike him down into the cell floor. “Get your hands off me boy, remember who your authority is. “
“Shes dead because of you!, shes.. !!! …………………..” Draco felt very cold all of a sudden, looking down he saw that his hand was fading as if it was getting sucked up by something.
“Wait.. Azkaban would never let you come into the cell…” Draco stumbled up, hitting the wall to steady himself. “They wouldn't.. Your not my father! Get out you bloody dementor!!!”
“Draco dont you know your own father?”
“Shut up! I know my father and thats not you!”
“Pity, enjoy your time here.” the figure of Lucious faded and Draco woke up in a very cold sweat. He was still laying down under the window, no one was with him in the cell and his body ached.
“Dementors.. “ slowly he got up moving to the corner to hug his knees. “Do your bloody worst, im Draco ffffffucking Malfoy.”
It won't be the last time the Dementors mess with Draco… they were determined to break him. Throughout the two years he was there you had not come to see him again except that one time the twins helped you. Draco told you now to bother the twins so you didn't. Fred and George did try to cheer you up though as much as they could. They even got a hold of Dracos old robes that they gave to you. It helped but you wanted the real thing. Him.The carrot cravings went away after a couple weeks which was nice. You did not need to carry a bag of the produce with you anymore.
Hufflepuff was still weary of you and Slytherin were still jerks. The Ravenclaws sympathized with you and you found comfort in them when you needed it. You wanted to visit him, see if he was okay. But all you could do was hope and stare out your window at the moon knowing he was looking at the same one ..
Two years later.
“You killed me”
“Shhhuut up….”
“Im dead, because of you.”
“...”
“Do you ever wonder? What could you have done differently? Acted in a more.. Reasonable way?”
“Your not .rrr.-re-al..”
“Not anymore, my time on this earth has ended. Because of you Draco”
Draco ran into the bars punching at them, blood was dripping from them now. The figure of you faded away right as he got to them to reappear in the cell next to him now. “Your not real..” he said again.
“Treated me like an animal, toyed with me..-” he swung at the dementor watching it fade away then reappear. “I was just a hufflepuff, an innocent girl.” Draco shook his head but the thoughts just got louder and louder.
“Dead”
“Dead”
“Gone”
“Killed”
“Stay here”
“...with me, let's be together” you held out a rotted hand to the shaking man. “Be like me”
Draco had been tormented by these dementors at least 3 times a week ever since his ‘father’ had come to see him. Day in and day out for at least 6 hours a day a dementor came to him as you to try to get Draco to crack.
The first time he almost fell for it, but he quickly realized it was not you. You were not a crying mess trying to touch him and you could not float….
But still seeing your figure hurt him, your body was made to look dead to cause even more damage to the man which it did. All he could do was endure and think about you, the real you. It was all he had to hold on to. He told himself when he spent his first night here that he would be okay, he would make it out fine.
But now hes crying on the floor at least twice a week with new bruises, cuts, and a giant headache. He fully knew how awful he was to you now, he had to apologize properly. That motivated him to fight, along with keeping you safe from his father. He would get out, he would be okay.
“...b-b-b-e like you?”
“Yes Draco, like me. Lets be together, lets get out of here.”
“Get .. out..”
“Yes , lets get-”
“No, you get out. Get out of my cell, get out of my head just GET OUT!, ill never go with you! Your not real and your NOT HER!” he stepped back, tripping over his feet and grabbing the cell bars to steady himself. His clothes by now were tattered and his dirty dark blond hair was in a pony tail. The cuts on his face turned to scars and his nails were bloody from him scratching at his itchy skin . Everytime he swung at the dementor it would fade out leaving traces of itself on the man making him freak out and scratch at his own skin till they turned purple.
The dementor faded through the bars down the hallway and Draco sunk down to his knees scratching at his arms trying to free himself of the lingering black smoke.
“Rabbit… “ Draco choked in a big breath glancing over at the small window to see the moon shining in on him. “Ill get out.. Ill be okay. We will be okay……………………….”
A few days later a man had come to Dracos cell. He unlocked the old door letting it swing open. The man stepped to the side gesturing to the hallway and Draco looked up from his hand to see Snape looking in at him.
“Hurry up, its filthy in here.”
“How is she….”
“Why don't you see for yourself? Do i look like a owl?”
“More like an over dramatic snake.” Draco slowly got up limping to his old professor who helped steady him.
“Im glad your okay, Malfoy.”
Draco rolled his shoulders and cracked his very purple bloody knuckles. “Of course i am”
Meanwhile, those two years you had graduated and opened up your own shop with the help of Fred and George. They pulled some strings and found an empty building you could sell potions in. it was a small building but you liked it.
The Wet Nose it was called. With little bunny decorations all over the inside and on the sign, the sign was your favorite. It had a little bunny looking over the sign with its ears down. You tried to make it apparent you were here so Draco could find you.. All you could do was wait now..
Draco had left Azkaban with Snape , showered, eaten , and dressed in real clothes. He was in clean black pants with a matching suit top with awhite shirt underneath and black shoes. His face was still heavily scared and his knuckles were starting to slowly heal. The scratches on his arms would not heal though. They would stay that way for a really long time. He worried if you would still want him like this. He also kept his hair long , just past his neck he liked it. Draco was not completely free of the dementors, he could still hear them in his head from time to time. Whispering things for him to come back and what not. He always had to shake his head and they would go away for the time being.
Snape had dropped him off at Diagon Alley as he requested. Before he left he got out of the car to give Draco one final word.
“Malfoy”
“What? Which way am i going?”
The man rolled his eyes and pulled Draco in for a one arm hug, even though draco loathed this. The poor man fought and cursed, slipping free of this unwanted affection.
“The bloody hell was that?”
“Go down this way, on the left.”
“Fantastic but what was-” he slapped him on the head.
“Oww!!! What gives?”
“Thats, for barging into my classroom.” and with that he left.
“Barging into my classroom” mocked the man fixing his hair.
Draco wasted no time getting to your shop. He found it easily and just stared at the sign. He was scared. Terrified, would you still want him… you said you would wait for him.. But.. the way he looks. He shook his head, making the dementors stop. “No. she will, she waited all this time. She will.”
Ring ring!! The bell on the door went off once Draco opened the door. The first thing that got his attention was the many smells coming from all over the room. All the windows were open with plants sitting in them . He had to make his way to the back where the register was, passing all types of potions a variety of colors. When he finally went to it he saw a little brown rabbit sitting on the counter wiggling its nose. The rabbit tilted its head at Draco and the man did the same.
“Biscuit? Is someone here? And you didn't ring them up you silly animal” you joked coming from the back room up to the counter.
You looked up from the rabbit to see Draco standing there, his smile slumped and he had his mouth half open. He was in awe. It was really you. The real you. Quickly he fixed himself and his smile went all the way up his face, the man stepped closer with a happy, relieved tone.
“Hey, Rabbit”
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nekomasmanager · 3 years
Text
Azumane Asahi × Reader
Am I going to post my one shots here too? Yes, yes I will. This is a collection of one shots I'm currently writing over on ao3 (if you want to you can check it out there! This is the first chapter). This collection features a female reader that is actually part of the Girls Volleyball Club at the boy in the pairing's High School (that way it makes more sense and it's easier for me to write!), and her multiple encounters with the different Haikyuu!! boys. I hope you like it and don't find it too cringey╰(*°▽°*)╯
So first off it's going to be my Asahi one shot! Hope you like it!
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Pairing: Azumane Asahi & Reader Word Count: 2275 Fandom: Haikyuu!! Original Post Date on ao3: 24/02/2021
------------------------------------------------------------------------------ You lost. You didn't make it past the first preliminary round. You're going home empty handed. It was all your fault. You didn't think you could reach a lower point in your volleyball career, but you just did.
He would be so disappointed in you. After everything he did, this is how you're repaying him for the hours of training you did together. He would be disappointed.
Your team was huddled up outside the gym, crestfallen expressions on your faces. One teammate was even crying thinking it was her fault this happened. She doesn't know that it was all yours. Captain reassures her that it's not, you did whatever you could to try to win, even if you didn't, she was proud of your team. After saying all that, she was called over by your sensei. You noticed some were admiring her strength, but you quickly noticed that she's just strong in front of you. She's just waiting for the moment she's alone, away from your prying eyes, to finally let down all her tears. She shouldn't cry. It wasn't her fault, she tried her best to get you to practice. You were at fault for not telling my teammates to come to practice, for not encouraging them more, for not pushing them more, because, well, it was your job to do so, being vice-captain and all.
You felt terrible. Your mind couldn't focus on anything else but the failure you just witness because of your lack of leadership skills, your lack of volleyball skills. You just had to practice something. You excused yourself, telling your teammates that you're going to look for an empty gym to practice your serves. They looked at you with pity in their eyes, knowing they couldn't stop you, even though they know you're going to exert yourself to the point of exhaustion. You always held the weight of failure on your shoulder, blaming yourself over and over. Being a third year, those tournaments are going to be the last ones you'll be able to compete in while still being on your school's team.
When you finally find an empty gym, you find a few wayward balls. You begin by collecting them in the bin, thinking that maybe this is the space for a team's practice time. After gathering them next to you, you pick up one ball, and try to jump serve it. It gets to the other side, but the power behind that serve is still weak.
You need to get better. You pick up a second one, and start imagine it as one of your failures that you want to get far away from. When you hit it, it had more force behind it. That's it, you thought. That's how you should do it. You keep doing that, thinking of all the terrible things you need to get away from, of the disappointment you issued with your playing, of all the things you could do better, you could've done better if you were a bit more authoritative.
You did not notice tears flowing down your face, until you saw them splashing on the ball between your hands. Not being able to stay up, you crash down on your knees, volleyball forgotten, and start sobbing silently into your hands. You began muttering: "he must be really disappointed in me. I'm such a failure. He'll no longer be my friend. I ruined everything for my team."
You heard some steps outside the gym door, but you don't care who saw you like that, the tears wouldn't stop anyways. The steps are now faster and louder. You hear a bag hitting the floor, and someone running to you. You thought it was one of your teammates checking up on you. "Y/N?" That's a male voice. Looking up, you see Asahi-San with a worried look on his face. Not being able to stop your tears, a sob finally escapes your lips when you see him, and that's all it took him to go down on his knees and hug you.
Before you wrap up your arms around him, you mutter under your breath "I don't deserve such kindness. I'm a failure. I shouldn't be part of this team. They're better off without me." Not wanting to hear you belittling yourself, Azumane holds you at arm's length, and looks at you dead in the eye, "what are saying about yourself? Did someone tell you all this?" You shake your head not wanting to speak. "I heard you before saying 'he'll be disappointed in me', were you referring to me?" You gently nod, looking down at your fingers, fidgeting and averting his kind brown eyes.
He gently grabs your chin, making you look at him, "I will never be disappointed in you, Y/N. Why would you think that of me?" "Because you wasted so much time on training me, and it was useless. I couldn't do anything to help my team win. I could barely keep the ball in the air. How could I be a good teammate when I'm such a burden to others, not letting them work well?" Your eyes were starting to well up with tears again. Azumane let go of your chin, and you buried yourself in his chest, clinging to his jacket.
He engulfed you in his arms, stroking your back and your hair, whispering softly in your ear, "none of the time I spent training with you was a waste. You're a formidable player, and I wouldn't ask someone else to train with me. You shouldn't be too hard on yourself, I'll always be by your side whether it's through victory or failure. I'm always going to be on your team." With those last words, you couldn't help the sobs that racked your chest and escaped your mouth.
You were shaking, but Asahi-San never let go of you. He smoothed your hair, and stroked your back, humming a song to calm you down. When you felt yourself calming down, no longer sobbing, just sniffling, you look up to Azumane, "do you have some tissues please?" "Yeah sure let me check in my bag for a second." He brings his discarded bag next to you, and shuffles through it, until he finds a packet of tissues that he hands to you. You nod your head while accepting the packet, blowing your nose softly and trying to wipe your eyes.
Your finger are pried away from your face and replaced with bigger warmer hands that wipe your tears gently. You noticed you were quite forceful when wiping your tears. You were so grateful for Azumane, that you closed your eyes and just relaxed under his touch, trying to calm your breaths. A few tears still escape your closed eyes, the movement on your face stopped, and you open your eyes. You noticed Azumane's face got closer to yours, but before anything happens you had to ask one question.
"Why are you always so nice to me? I don't deserve it. I'm just me. Plain old Y/N. But you're perfect. You're an amazing athlete, one I can only aspire to be like. You have such a gentle and kind soul. Even if you get nervous or scared of something, with a few encouraging words, you're back to your confident self. Meanwhile I'm here, crying and sobbing cause I'm the reason my entire team failed, I'm supposed to bring them together with my captain, but I couldn't even do that. You don't even deserve me liking you, you deserve someone who's better than me to like you. Someone who can complete you in the best ways possible. Someone who's not me. So why do always stay by my side even when I wouldn't want to be by my own side?"
You started crying again, letting out all of your feelings for Azumane accidentally because of your frustration. Silent tears were rolling down your face, you're looking down at your fingers clutching the tissue packet, not daring to look him in the eyes. "Y/N?" "What?" "Look at me." You gingerly lift your head up, scared of meeting his eyes. But what you face wasn't what you expected.
Azumane's face was a mix of shock and warmth and something you couldn't quite read. He wanted to say something, but was struggling to do so. He ended up engulfing you with one of the biggest hugs you ever received, the kind of hug that puts everything back in its place, the kind of hug you never want it to end. He whispered so low you were afraid you wouldn't be able to hear him, "I like you too Y/N."
You couldn't believe what you just heard. Shocked, you raise your head, tears still prominent on your face, and you're met with the most handsome, warm face you've ever seen in your life. "Why are tearing up Azumane? I'm the one who should be crying!" "I just couldn't handle seeing you this sad and distraught over something that wasn't your fault. I couldn't handle seeing the girl I love belittling herself." While saying that, you noticed that both his hands are on your cheeks, and getting closer with every word he said.
Your breath hitched, but at the same time, you wanted him closer. You stand up on your knees, facing him head on. That's the only sign he needed before closing the gap between the two of you. You never would've thought that you would be kissing Azumane Asahi, but there you are, in his arms, in the arms of the man who loves you. You couldn't have asked for a better way to make you feel better. As you disentangle yourself from him to catch your breath, you notice him being flushed and you couldn't help but rest your hand on his warm cheek. He nuzzles his head into your hand and kisses the inside of it. You melt right there and then.
"Do you really love me? Or did you mean it as friends?" you ask shyly, feeling stupid as the question left your lips. "Well I wouldn't have kissed you if I only loved you as a friend" he says gently as he tucked a loose strand of your hair. You blush and try to cover your warming cheeks, but he catches your hands before you do so. "Can I ask you something Asahi?" "Anything for you Y/N." "Oh stop it." you lightly hit him on his shoulder. "How did you know where to find me? I remember only telling my teammates."
"Oh well you see. Sometime during our second match, your team came to cheer us on. But I didn't notice them until the end. I was looking for you between your teammates, and I guess your captain knew who I was looking for, and told me where to find you, with the notice that you may or may not be blaming the loss of the game on yourself." You shyly look down at your intertwined hands. "So as soon as I could, I came looking for you, worried that you might be exerting yourself, practicing as you usually do when you blame yourself. And when I heard tiny sniffles, a volleyball hitting the floor, and a bunch of mumbled words, I came faster, and I saw you broken down on the floor, silently crying and sobbing into your arms. My heart was wrenching when I saw you. I could only just come and hug you, trying to make you feel better. And well I guess I achieved that." He says cheekily while booping your nose with his finger but never letting go of your hand.
With still warm cheeks, you look at him, wondering one thing. "Wait you said you finished playing your second match. It means you played against..." "Date Tech High, yeah.." "Oh my God. Are you okay? How did it go? Please don't tell me you're going to stop playing volleyball again? I couldn't handle it. I barely managed to hit a ball when you took your break. I felt like a complete failure when you wouldn't show up to our practice meetings. Thinking it was my fault you didn't want to continue on. Please don't tell me you're quitting again!" "Y/N.. breathe" he says, reassuringly squeezing your hands. "I'm not going to stop playing volleyball anytime soon. And just so you know... we won."
Your face literally lights up, and you couldn't contain your happiness. You jump up and down, overly excited for him and his team. You jump into his arms, and he immediately catches you and spin you both around, laughing with glee. You couldn't believe it. They defeated the Iron Wall of Data Tech. Azumane isn't leaving volleyball behind. He finally conquered his fear. When he sets you down, he leaves his hand around your waist, enjoying your expression full of pride and happiness, for him.
You still couldn't believe it. "Asahi! You did it! I'm so proud of you! I knew you could do it! My strong Ace!" "My strong Ace you say?" "I.. umm.. is it okay if I call you that?" you ask, biting your lip cause you're embarrassed you made that slip up. "Of course you can... my little spiker" You blush so profusely, that your entire face and ears are as red as a tomato. You lightly hit his bicep, hiding your face in his chest. He laughs so wholeheartedly while engulfing you with his arms. He kisses the top of your head and whispers: "God I love her so much" With a wide smile hidden from his eyes, you whisper back, "I love you too Asahi"
------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Well here you have it, that was my very first attempt at a fanfic chapter! I have two more fully ready, a new one shot in the works, and an entire new fanfic idea that is linked to my blog name. I hope you'll stick around until then!
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twoidiotwriters1 · 3 years
Text
June, 1976 (WITT One-Shot)
A/N: If you want to remain in the taglist pls interact with this one-shot even if you haven’t read book 4-5 yet. A like or a comment is fine, the people who don’t want to continue reading obvsly do not interact and I’ll delete from the taglist :) -Danny
Words: 2,590
Series’ Masterlist
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Emily was tired, but she'd spent all day overthinking and she was done, it was time to grow up.
She could hear Lily Evans' voice ushering Severus Snape away, he'd been coming around for several hours during the day trying to apologize, but he'd finally crossed a line.
"It's not your fault, you know?"
Matthew's voice caught her attention, he'd stopped at the foot of the stairs, one hand propped on the wall.
"Snape and Evans have been fighting for months now, I think it's because of what he's been doing with the Slytherins... you know, the cult stuff."
Emily averted her gaze to the fireplace.
"I know..."
Matthew hesitated, he'd promised himself that he wouldn't go back to being Emily's therapist, but something was different this time, it wasn't her usual kind of sulking.
"Are you okay?"
She looked at him over her shoulder and frowned.
"I'm not the one who got called 'mudblood' by a close friend."
"No, you weren't," He admitted. "Which is why it's so strange to see you all sad."
"I'm not sad."
"Is this about James?"
He didn't want to know, but alas, he'd asked.
"No," She made a face. "I don't think I care about him that way anymore."
"It's easier said than done," Matthew crossed his arms, his shoulder now leaning on the archway of the stairs.
"What do you want, Ruddy?" Emily groaned.
"I don't want anything from you," The boy replied. "But I have the feeling that you need to talk."
"I do," She said. "Not with you, though."
Matt nodded, he sighed.
"Good luck, then, have a good night."
"'Night."
Emily watched him disappear up the stairs, she didn't know why, but the memory of his burning gaze before he kissed her came back then, his intense determination as he held her closer... That moment Emily had found herself unable to move away, to say no. She wished she had his courage to just do stuff even when he was intimidated by them, she needed that kind of bravery tonight.
Lily Evans entered the tower two minutes later, Emily stood up abruptly and the redhead came to a halt.
For a moment none of them spoke, then Lily's face showed tons of fatigue.
"What now? Is it your turn to call me a stuck-up bore because I didn't agree to go out with Potter?"
Emily shifted her weight from one foot to the other.
"Can we talk?" She asked shyly. "I promise it's not a trick... I'm sorry."
Emily's behaviour towards her was usually hostile, tonight her voice was gentle, and even a little afraid.
"You're sorry?"
"I don't expect you to believe me," Emily continued, lowering her gaze. "I know you and Snape were close — I don't understand how can you like him... listen I suck at apologies, can't you just say it's alright so we can go to bed?"
Lily crossed her arms, standing straighter.
"No, I think I want you to try harder."
Emily groaned, she sat down heavily and started to think her words carefully, Lily inched closer.
"Boys can be cruel when they're not thinking — Anyone, really... I've been brutal myself — Matthew and I almost stopped being friends a few months ago, because I don't like talking about my feelings," She laughed dryly. "I don't know what is it about today that it just... I don't want to be a tormentor my whole life, let alone to someone who is... tolerable. I'm sorry for making your life a living hell these past few years."
Lily sat down, although she kept the seat between them empty to keep some distance.
"You didn't make my life a living hell," She replied. "I... can admit you're a bit clever... even likeable — that last match when you threw Lewis a bludger after he called you a midget... it was kind of funny."
"The boys walked me everywhere that week, they thought Ernest was going to try and get back at me," Emily bit her lip, but she was now smiling. "I mean, I lived in fear for days! Thinking he would spike my drink at some point with poison or something... Until Matthew cornered him outside D.A.D.A. class one day, poor Lewis... he looked so small in comparison..."
"Anyone looks small next to Matthew, he's a giant," Lily grinned. "Well, if it's any consolation, I was planning on murdering you in a much classier manner than poison, but since you've apologized, I guess I won't have to kill you after all."
Emily snorted, her eyes lingered on Lily, who looked like she'd been crying for most of the day, and yet still had enough energy to sit down and talk with the girl she'd detested for the last four years.
"Why are you being nice?" She asked in annoyance. "I mean I'm glad you're kind of accepting my apology, but I thought you'd be a bit colder, walking away before I could even finish..."
"What kind of person do you think I am?" Lily raised a brow, with the orange light coming from the fireplace her green eyes looked far more intense than usual. "If I'm honest, you should thank Remus... he's tried to convince me that you lot are far better than you look..."
Emily sighed, when she was young she'd do mischief for fun, but now that she was older, and considering all the weird stuff that was happening outside the school, she was starting to think that maybe her group of friends were indeed changing for the best.
"I'm going to be honest with you too, Evans," The girl took a deep breath. "Being the only girl in my friend group is turning out to be pure torture. I'm in desperate need of a girlfriend."
Lily's mouth twitched a bit, but she didn't laugh.
"What makes you think I want to be your friend?"
"Oh, I don't think you want to," She raised a brow. "But maybe if we're on good terms I'd be able to ask you for a tampon without having to swallow my pride first."
Lily did laugh at this, she shook her head. "Holy Merlin, Sultens, you're loopy."
"You would be too if you were seated next to Sirius every day!" She paused. "So... are you willing to make peace?"
Lily examined her carefully, four long years of quarrels sat between them, but a lifetime of friendship could be ahead if Emily was truly sorry. She was a nice girl, and really smart too, she was annoying only when she was taunting Severus, and he was no longer her friend.
Lily stretched out her hand.
"Very well, but if you go back the deal is over and we'll be less than strangers, understood?"
"Sure."
She retreated her hand before Emily could grab it.
"Hang on — this is not Potter's idea, right? You're not trying to be my friend just so I date him later?"
"Lily, if anything I hope you and James never date," Emily snickered. "Nothing personal, you're just way too good for him."
"...Alright."
They shook hands, she'd meant what she said about it not being personal. James was a boy, a very silly one at that, and even though they were really close friends, Emily was no longer a blind supporter of his doings.
Funnily enough, this seemed to be related to Matthew, she couldn't stop thinking about that kiss! Merlin, he was a good kisser...
She shook the thought away, now was not the time for nonsense.
"I'm very honoured to be your acquaintance, Evans," Emily grinned.
"Call me Lily. Only Professors call me Evans... and Potter, but you know I hate that."
"Got it, Lils."
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July 1996
"...I don't think this is right," Mel tilted her head. "Brownies are mean to be brown... not pitch-black."
"You burned them," Harry was standing behind them with his arms crossed, clearly upset.
"How could you burn them, Erick? They were in there for five minutes!"
"Are you sure..." Erick stabbed the mixture with a knife and made a face. "Ugh — they're still liquid in the middle!"
"How the fuck did you do this?"
"I thought it would work just the same if I doubled the heat and put less time," Erick sulked. "Ovens are weird."
"This is why we told you to stay out of it," Harry replied. "You don't know how muggle stuff work."
"I do know!"
"Then why did you burn the brownies?"
"Don't fight," Mel intervened, grabbing the platter and throwing its contents away. "Oh well, at least we ruined my birthday cake and not someone else's..."
"That's not okay," Harry frowned. "You should have a proper cake."
Mel looked at him and grinned. "I'll eat yours, then."
"How's everything going in here?" Emily walked in, behind her Lupin followed.
"Uncle Lu!" Mel rushed over to his side and hugged him, the man chuckled. "You came!"
"Well, hadn't been around for your birthday in a long time, I thought you'd like it," He said, lovingly patting her back.
"I do," She beamed. "We kind of ruined the cake, though, so we should buy doughnuts or something."
"It's a good thing I brought this, then," Lupin lifted his bag and placed it on the table, inside there was a beautifully adorned red velvet cake.
"You just saved my birthday!"
Harry and Erick shared a moody expression and grumbled complaints, Lupin laughed.
"The kids insisted on doing the cakes this year," Emily explained. "I told them it was not an easy job, but they insisted."
"Mel and I have done this before, Erick was the one who wanted to be in charge when he can't even make tea without magic," Harry glared at him.
"Muggles stuff are too complicated, alright?" He huffed.
"I don't mind," Mel said without paying attention to them, she was still beyond happy with her uncle's presence. "I wanted to give my mum a break, Leggie's been a bit hard to handle lately..."
"Is he?" Lupin looked at the little boy Emily was holding. "Is he ill?"
"No, he just cries a lot," The woman sighed. "Wakes us up every night."
"I thought that forcing my mother to bake when she's clearly too tired to be doing anything apart from feeding a baby was a crime," Mel stated. "So I took care of it."
"Then Flint messed it up," Harry taunted.
"And then you fixed it, Uncle Moony," The girl smiled. "So there's no harm done, right boys?"
She looked over her shoulder, raising a brow as if urging them to stop bickering before they embarrassed her in front of Lupin. Both mumbled their agreement, not quite meeting her eyes.
"Lovely," Mel looked back at the adults. "Who wants lunch?"
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Mel and Erick were in the kitchen talking in hurried whispers, she appeared to be upset, the young man too. Emily and Remus were in the drawing-room, Harry was upstairs changing Reg's diaper.
"Do you know why they're arguing?" Remus asked, staring at the pair.
"Dumbledore came by this morning before breakfast," Emily sighed, leaning her head back on the couch. "Talked about this mission he had for Erick — you know how eager to help that boy is... so of course the old man came and put his offer on a silver platter, and Mel won't let Erick go on his own, so being the generous soul Dumbledore is," She said sarcastically, "He said she could go too if she wanted to."
"Really?" Remus frowned. "Well... he's been giving her lessons for years, Mily, perhaps he knows she can handle it."
"I don't care," She said bluntly. "That's my daughter, my daughter. Matt's daughter. How can he continue to risk my family's life like it's nothing?"
"You know Matthew did all he that because he wanted to, Dumbledore had nothing to do with his decisions."
"I know," Emily took a deep breath. "But he's got a lot to do with Mel's... she idolizes him."
"You think so?" The man looked over his shoulder again, staring at his goddaughter.
"I don't see why else she'd be so keen to follow his orders..."
"Maybe because she feels guilty?" Remus offered. "After what happened in the ministry..."
Emily pressed her lips together, she didn't want to talk about that.
"That's not her fault and she knows it. I told her it wasn't."
"You weren't there," He said gravely. "She went out of control. I had never seen anything like it, her magic was dark— I mean that literally. All the spells she did came out pitch-black. Dumbledore was the only one who could put a stop to it."
Emily's eyes grew worried, she looked over her shoulder as well and her gaze landed on Mel.
"You think it could be the same thing that Ariana Dumbledore had? That disease?"
"No one knows what happened to her," Remus said. "Not even Matthew knew, and he was part of the family... but it could be. Maybe Dumbledore knows something we don't, maybe this will help her... perhaps she needs this."
Emily stayed silent for a moment, then she groaned.
"I hate that we're always meant to trust him blindly."
"He's lived a hundred years, he might be wiser than all of us, don't you think?"
The woman scoffed, she looked ahead, deep in thought.
"A hundred years... Matthew couldn't even make it to twenty-one! James and Lily barely did... Sirius spent twelve years in Azkaban — But at least we all knew how the war looked like then, Remus. We fought for years... my daughter just turned sixteen, she still goes to school!"
"And yet she's already done her fair amount of fighting," The man raised a brow. "We didn't have the experiences she's gone through when we were her age. I stand with Dumbledore, she can do this."
"I'm not saying she can't," Emily grabbed the empty plates to take them to the kitchen. "I'm saying she shouldn't have to sacrifice her youth. Dumbledore asks for too much, I'm sure he's got someone else that could help him with the mission, but he's obsessed with making Mel his perfect copy."
Remus didn't try to argue back, little could convince Emily at this point, she'd never been a fan of Dumbledore, and after Matt's death it was no secret that she openly disliked him, but she still followed his orders, because she knew Dumbledore was the only chance they had to win this war.
Mel and Erick entered the room, neither of them angry, which made Remus think they had reached an agreement.
"I should leave," The man stood up. "Leon's been quiet, maybe Harry managed to make him sleep."
"Or maybe he's just playing with him," Emily stood up as well. "Really, I never thought Harry would get so attached to a baby..."
"I'll miss you, Uncle Lu, I hope to see you soon," Mel said, her eyes avoiding to look into Erick's direction.
"Me too, little Em," Remus hugged her tightly, he whispered in her ear. "Be good to your mother, alright?"
Mel looked at him with confusion, but she nodded anyway.
"So?" Emily crossed her arms. "What are you going to do?"
The young witch stared at her mother, Remus knew that expression. It was true and very strange, how she could have her dad's gaze even though her eyes were exactly like her mother's, but he knew that look, he'd seen it in Matt the last time they had spoken. Mel was done being a kid.
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Taglist.
@dee123ksha @vampiregirl1797 @siriuslysirius1107 @stardusthigh @mikariell95 @vernon-dursley @thesuitelifeofafangirl @tomshollandz @wlwmaximoff @reverse-hxlland @omiwashere @t-rexs-world @just-here-to-escape-from-reality @21bruhs @i-am-scared-and-useless-bisexual @dielgonacoffee​ @thelastpyle @hamiltonwc
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Text
For A Greater Good Fun Facts and Self Assesment (spoilers)
Long Post
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What worked and what didn’t:
I think the overall structure worked pretty well. The most difficult part was, with the plot and subplot already created, scattering all those ideas throughout the text in such a way that at least made some sense. I regret not writing more about Mer Yankelevich, I feel like the crumbs I left on the way were not enough; in my attempt to make it subtle it lacked information about her. The key piece was of course her sister, and I should have introduced her sooner.
MC’s evolution. I feel like Kate’s learnt a lot with this experience (I’m not only referring to the Deathly Hallows or Grindelwald) When it started, she was very discreet and kept a low profile, not knowing what to do really, not taking more risks than necessary. And then she ended poisoned and splinching just to protect a document she thought was important. I hope her evolution is noticeable for the reader.
Worldbuilding. Grabbing HP concepts that were forgotten and full of potential, plus a dash of original ideas from me and blending them with muggle features was my absolute favourite part of the process.
On that note, I dont own these concepts: Durmstrang, Igor Karkarov, Nerida Vulchanova, umbrella flowers, fanged geraniums, billywigs, Appare Vestigium, glow-worms, trick wand, chamaleon ghouls, 
If you’ve read the fic and thought: “everything happened so fast” or got a general odd feeling about the timeline it's because I made a series of  monumental mistakes: setting a chapter limit, telling you about it and then tried to stick to it.  At first the idea sounded nice: this is my first “big” story  with complicated components. I should (and I did) do an outline of what I want to happen in each chapter and stick to it methodically so I don't forget what's happening or lose track of the plot. Well...it kind of backfired. So I wrote the first 3 chapters and at that point I thought “okay everything is going as planned, I’m going to put it out there”, bam, instantly cursed. After that it got ridiculously difficult to make the story that I wanted. Why? I needed chapter space that I convinced myself I couldn’t add. Dumb.
The major consequence of this was the lack of character backgrounds. It started out good, but as I kept writing and publishing I realised that I missed some great opportunities to make amazing ocs. That’s Corentin’s fault in a way: he wasn't going to be a major character, really, just a piece to help Kate a bit. But we all fell in love with him so what was I supposed to do? Also, Sheyi Mawut owns my heart and he got just a bit of spotlight. A shame.
I wish I had written more about them, but I think I wasn’t ready just yet to make it even more complicated.I just wanted to prove I could concoct a mystery plot and now that I know I can manage a fair amount of information I think I can take it a step further and deepen new ocs a little bit more.
I’m thinking about the datura series and I know why I got blocked and tired of writing it; it wasnt going anywhere because I wasnt prepared, and I didn’t do the months of outlines and planning that I did with this one. I’ll come back to the datura story one day, subjecting it to a sever rewrite. The ideas are there, I just need to be organised.
Although the chapter limit was problematic it was also a good exercise of managing space and deciding which things were unnecessary for the story. I dont think there’s any filler chapters, perhaps the last ones, but there is important information there too so... However this sentence  from the blog  wordsandstuff reassured me (and I think I did a good job at that?)
If you set out to write 10 parts and you write a fantastic story in 8, you haven’t failed and it’s not too rushed. Concise writing is an underrated talent. Focus on how effectively you engage the reader, not for how long.
I spent more than year writing this! When I started, I had a lot of ideas, I wrote the last two chapters then the first 3 and I really thought it was going to be that way with the rest of the story... okay... lesson learnt. #humbled
Other thoughts:
I received a couple of comments on ao3 that said that they were pleasantly surprised. Maybe I should change the tags because they are misleading? Clearly this wasnt what people were looking for lol.
One particular comment stood out to me and quoting it said:  “You did not choose the easy way with a fiction with so few characters from the fandom.”  And I’ve been thinking about this since I read it. It didn’t occur to me that there were few mystery fics (maybe I should write more things like that? Maybe throwing some power couple detective work 👀 ) In any case, I’m glad  I contributed with something different to the fandom, and the fact that the Charlie bits are very scarce but people who read it still liked it is really flattering.
I wanted to make sure that all the characters had strengths and flaws, I didnt want to severus-snape them so maybe I overdid it with that bit of introspection kate does at the end...
Also, I did the kiss and fade thing twice to mention sex. I know some people dont like that but since it wasnt the point of the story and I havent done research on how to write sex scenes I didnt include them. I have that on my “to learn” list.
Conclusions:
Writing the whole thing was incredible. It's my first ‘big’ project and its not a great work (there are some things I wish I did better, thats what you get when you are an agatha christie wannabe) and not writing more character backgrounds will haunt me to this day,  but I think it's at least good for a first series and I’m proud of it. I loved spending hours doing research and trying to piece together this puzzle. And of course I’m not an expert and I dont want to sound pretentious (like this is my first story) but if you are planning to write this type of genre I can be another source of tips and tricks for you.
If I read the story after a while and I dont cringe, I would call that a success.
FUN? FACTS!
Bakunawa really belongs to Filippines mythology
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Snapdragons have different meanings, one of them being: “grace under pressure or inner strength in trying circumstances”
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The entrance to Grindelwald’s room was going to be in the duelling classroom, strangely shaped as a triangle. I had this system where one of the round candle lamps descended and lined up with a line on the floor (serving as separation for duels) it created the Deathly Hallows symbol. I couldn’t make that work because it wouldn't make any sense for Nerida Vulchanova to shape a room like that.  Here are some sketches:
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Lucius Malfoy was going to appear as the Ministry employee that goes to Durmstrang, but after revising the events of the OoP I realised it was impossible.
Kent Jorgensen was going to be around Kate’s age and the charms teacher and he would have a small crush on her. After seeing some pics of Pen Medina, I rewrote the character completely.
The series was going to be 6 chapters long (I’m glad I decided not to) one for each month. The chapter names were ridiculous: January of Beginnings, February of reputation, March of Students, April of Discoveries, May I? and June of Endings. #tragic
The Dolohov family was going to be a part of the plot but I had to erase that part because it was unlocking another layer of complexity that I just couldnt handle.
I dont remember exactly the chapter but I got really confused with the names Rhode and Hodges and there’s one chapter where I accidentally mixed them (I corrected it I think), but for a while I could stop calling Rhode, Hodges, and vice versa lmao
Here are some sketches that helped me describe and imagine things
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Thank you for accompany me in this journey, especially if you endured the process with me lmao. You’ve been here for over A YEAR! <3 Mindblowing
Also I’d love to know your opinions about the way you read the story, I mean, I know some people read it as I published, and some other readers found the story already finished, what are the differences? Should I stop the updating system and drop a story all at once? I know it is difficult to keep up with a complex story if there’s a lot of weekly or monthly gaps between the chapters, so I wanted to know.
Sending you a virtual hug 💜💜
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youremypeople · 3 years
Text
Cordelia
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(picrew by @lullindo)
“We become by ceasing to be”
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Album: Wildlife — La Dispute
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(references throughout, denoted by 🍄)
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Major Arcana: Death
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(art by Leonardo Mazzoli)
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Messy dark auburn hair that is roughly cut to medium length, worn loose
Sullen hazel-green eyes
Freckled tan skin
No piercings or tattoos yet
Has a worn switchblade-style dagger kept in a pocket on her right hip
Has a druidic totem made from a crow’s skull with a cracked hole in the top, worn around her neck
Wears a leather backpack and a leather bracelet
Wears a simple earth tone outfit of dark green pants, beige shirt, and leather jacket — barefoot
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Race: Halfling
Gender: Vaguely nonbinary (AFAB)
Pronouns: Any (typically she/her by default)
Sexuality: Lesbian
Age: Twenty-two
Height: Three feet
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:: The Circle ::
An extremely reclusive halfling druid circle that centers above and around a single ancient fungus that spreads throughout a great canopy forest. The main body of the organism — the mycelium — grows and spreads underground at root depth, just out of sight. Every autumn, it blooms bioluminescent mushrooms on the surface, and its glowing spores are spread on the wind.
Their ideology and practices are based on fungal life. There is beauty in decay. Life and death are parts of a cycle, with one leading to the other and then back again. Death isn’t the end of life, but instead a change of state that sees life shift into a new form. To best emulate this ideal, their way of life is imitative of the creeping pace and aimless entropy of fungal life.
Their way of life is extremely isolated — not just from the outside world, but from each other. Each individual is to live their life like a spore floating on the wind, like an appendage of the whole. Children have no special relationship to their biological parents, often not even knowing who their parents are. Once babies have been weaned, they are raised by other members of the circle.
Fungal psychedelics are an important part of the circle’s connection to the land. A rite of passage for a young druid is for them to eat a particular mushroom alone in the forest at dusk on the first night of the autumn blooming of their thirteenth year.
Members are raised to live alone, wandering and tending to the forest of the fungus. When members’ paths meet — usually by happenstance — they silently exchange simple information about any unusual happenings or needs of the land, and then go on their way. Outsiders are watched silently, and not interacted with unless they pose a threat to the land.
Individualism and sentimental attachments are forbidden, as death is not to be mourned. The only importance is that the cycle continues.
:: Backstory & Relationships ::
Cordelia tried her best to live according to the way of the circle, but always struggled with it. From an early age, she secretly kept journals that she filled with sketches, lyrics, thoughts, and dreams.
🍄 One: a Departure
i used to never think of death… i used to feel like everything was perfectly in order, a normal life, but i guess then came a departure.
🍄 Two: Harder Harmonies
there's a melody in everything
i'm trying to find a harmony
but nothing seems to work
nothing seems to fit
🍄 Five: a Letter
i've always struggled at the root of the problem. has it been absence or my constant lack of defense? i've never spent a lot on finding a remedy. i guess i figured that it hurt for a reason. i guess that's why i've always turned to writing it down.
🍄 Thirteen: all our bruised bodies and the whole heart shrinks
do you think if the heart keeps on shrinking, one day there will be no heart at all? and how long does it take? am i better off just bursting or breaking? because i don't see my heart getting strong.
Father Figure — “Jones”
A stoic middle-aged man of few words, Jones followed the circle’s tenets almost completely. He raised Cordelia and taught her most of what she knows of druidism and life in general. His one personal indulgence outside of the code was the lute, a very undruidic instrument. He kept it secret from everyone except — eventually — Cordelia, and secretly taught her to play.
The winter when Cordelia was fifteen, Jones was killed by outsiders. Cordelia finds his body, and then — unable to emotionally process the loss — tracks down and murders his killers with his dagger. Feeling no better, she returns to Jones’ hut. She takes his lute, and hides it away for herself, not to play it again for years.
The pain of Jones’ death continues to stick with Cordelia, contributing to her doubt and resentment of some of the circle’s tenets.
🍄 Five: a Letter
sometimes things happen and you can't do anything. plus, i'm the only one who deals with it anyway.
i know that i should be finding another way. i know that i should be seeking a substitute. but just forgetting never really made sense to me. so i haven't been.
do i feel embarrassed about it? i think you know the answer to that. i think you'd probably feel a little bit embarrassed for me, wouldn't you?
i know i should've moved on ages ago, been happy already, but it's never been that easy for me. or maybe it was me that made it so hard.
maybe i never tried hard enough, and it is my fault.
First Lover — “Dianthi”
Cordelia had met Dianthi — another member of the circle — a handful of times in their childhood. Dianthi is a skilled tanner and leathercrafter about Cordelia's age.
When Cordelia was hiding her feelings of mourning for Jones, Dianthi was one of the few who noticed how much it hurt, and she felt for her, but kept her distance.
Slowly, Cordelia and Dianthi started to become interested in each other. The two girls secretly went out of their way to encounter each other more often, but wouldn’t admit to themselves what their feelings were.
The summer when Cordelia was nineteen, they began to secretly spend time together, gradually becoming emotionally and romantically close over the course of two years.
🍄 Seven: The Most Beautiful Bitter Fruit
it's like medicine, it's self-discovery. all the secrets i keep, why are they secrets? it's only temporary, that fleeting feeling of warmth, just a flash before the line gets blurry between a longing for more than what the body wants now and what the body wants now more than anything.
was it integrity that kept my hands to myself or just the thought of getting too far ahead of you? was it that i got too tired of the consequence? or was i just scared? i only know i never wanted to get left behind.
i want to feel it out. i want to know how it works. i want to know if it was worth it to worry — about the ghosts i feared would haunt the memory, about the damage that i'm sure the fear has done to me now.
After struggling with it for a long time, Cordelia asks Dianthi a question which has been eating away at her:
Cordelia shared parts of her journals and played the lute and sang for Dianthi. Dianthi crafted gifts for Cordelia: a backpack, a bracelet, a jacket, a waterskin.
C: “Dianthi… Would– would you care if I died?” (Defying core tenets of circle ideology)
D: “…W–what? Why ask that?” (In truth, Dianthi would care, but she’s too ashamed and unprepared to realize or admit it)
C: “…Would you?”
When Dianthi fails to answer, Cordelia isolates herself from Dianthi.
Soon after, Cordelia exiles herself from the circle, taking her few belongings with her, except for Jones’ lute, which is left to decay in the forest.
🍄 Six: Safer in the Forest / Love Song for Poor Michigan
last snowfall left splinters, and some winters never end, neither wane nor wear. and sunshine is like lovers, and some summers just pretend, only warm the air.
i'm tired of the feeling here, it's too near to death.
i've been thinking of exile. i've been thinking hit the highway and head up north. i've been thinking cross the bridge and don't turn back. the only warmth is a warmth alone.
i need to leave. i can't marry this place. i won't bury the past, i just need a change of scenery. i will hold these old trees sweetly in my head
Like Her.
🍄 Fourteen: You and I in Unison
what will i find? some sacred thing to help me handle the tragedy? or did i once– did i have it and lose it?
no one should ever have to walk through the fire alone. no one should ever have to brave that storm. no, everybody needs someone or something.
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