#not to undo her badness. But to work towards something better bc she wants to be

[radical-dadical-rafael]

I so understand why ppl like making content where Jon and Daisy are friends but have you considered the fact that um. They wouldn't be.

[sunlightandsuffering]

Prompt : they are both famous and secretly dating.

tbh I don't know what this is or if it makes any sense at all, so sorry anon for butchering ur prompt, but I'm a basic bitch and I like my drake, so like this is gonna be pain bcuz my favourite song on the new album is just pain and I can't stop thinking about a fucked up celebs relationship to it, just ANGST AND PAIN!! 😭😭 but those lyrics hit, can't believe I wrote a song fic ugh circa Tumblr 2015 jfc I'mma write a happier ending to this in another prompt 😂 bc someone else asked for the same thing.

Fucking Fans

I'm still working on me

Eren stands at the Met Gala, holding Mikasa by the waist, giving a cramped smile for photos and keeping her close. People call their names and cameras flash and his beloved blinks, hiding her face into his shoulder as the lights overwhelm her.

He looks down at her lovingly as some jackass reporter yells about a cheating rumour and her pretty face pinches up. Eren is quick to comfort her with his touch, both hands gripping her waist reassuringly as he decides it's time for them to go inside.

"Come on Miki," he kisses her forehead and she nods, accepting. Neither of them wants to think about those rumours, the damage and the pain they bring up is too much and it's all his fault, he knows, but he can't undo it.

The guilt eats at him and she holds his hand tighter, the despair takes him and she cuddles him at night.

They're together now but sometimes Eren wonders just how it happened, how he came back from falling so far. How she took him back when he fucked up so massively.

And I'm coming back better for you

The day he shows up on her door step again is the day of the biggest awards show of the season, the one he knows she's going to kill and probably sweep several categories. Just because she's that amazing. He finds her where he expects, in her apartment, the address Armin gave him, doing her own hair and makeup, humble Mikasa just like always, ironing out her own dress. He shows up in a suit with as many white roses as he can fit into a bouquet and ready to leave if she still hates him, which she has every right to.

But he's been through months of therapy, gave Armin control of his bank account, and check himself into rehab thrice, every time he was even inching closer to relapse.

He's not fixed, but he's better, marginally, and he wants her to know it, know he still loves her at the very least.

She opens the door, beautiful even without makeup, and wearing a white slip and her pretty red mouth parts in shock.

All he can do is hold out his roses as tears leave his eyes at seeing her for the first time in months.

Most times it was my selfishness and your helplessness that I took advantage of

It was so easy with Mikasa, she was so devoted to him. So loving and sweet, always there for him.

She'd wait up, let him do what he wanted, never wanting to stifle or control him. Too afraid their tenuous relationship would crack and they'd break up.

A part of him blames her for it, for being so willing to let him do what he wanted. She'd been passive, unsure how to insert herself, had minimal complaints, letting him ruin his life party by party, late night after late night, drugs and alcohol all of it.

But he knows he can never hold her accountable for his own actions, and the day she's finally done with his bullshit is both the best and worst day of his life. She finally says no, and it begins his path to fixing himself. Because hitting rock bottom is losing the most important thing in his life, and that's Mikasa.

You sit in the house and I be out and I know you're worried, up

The problem with her passivity is he knows it's not passivity at all, she just doesn't know what to do, how to fix him. Eren has always had a temper, and she's known him for a long time, knows he'll lash out and behave worse if provoked. So she'd reacted as best she could, leaving rehab pamphlets out, asking him to stay in and watch movies, bake with her, anything other than going out to party.

But he'd stumble home every night and see her asleep on the couch, waiting. Always there to pick him up instead of a cab, not wanting the paparazzi to get a hold of him, she was always there.

And you try and block it out

They lived in a bubble, they pretended it didn't happen. They didn't acknowledge when he was too hungover to shoot the next morning. She'd brew him coffee, get him through the day, flush his drug stash when they checked, both his saving grace and biggest enabler.

Even when he's kissing her for more than just an on-screen kiss, lips drinking her in like a man starved, and the next morning she finds new girls in his bed, she keeps quiet.

They're a mess, but every time she dutifully kicks the girls out and drags him to the shower.

I'm so sorry for letting you down

When he'd first become famous, he hadn't known what to do with himself. He'd been scouted for how many movies, tv-shows, underwear commercials, brand deals. It was a whirlwind as Hollywood found their new boy wonder, handsome, smart and a nice boy.

His best friend, and female love interest in their debut movie, Mikasa, who had followed him to Hollywood on nothing more than a whim, was equally bombarded with fame and fortune. They'd always been close, always best friends, but never quite more, no matter how much they both obviously wanted it. It never progressed beyond a few acted kisses.

Still, they got an apartment together, and Eren had thought it was the start of something great, he was living the dream. Rich and famous with his best friend, the girl he'd secretly loved since he was young.

He'd been content just to stay up late and watch movies with her before work, to visit her on set and bring her donuts. They were Hollywood's shining stars, two kids sickeningly sweet in love even though they weren't officially dating, they were as good as.

At the advice of his agent, he'd started doing more, started picking up a few other gigs on the side, modelling, but he kept it small, he didn't want to overwhelm himself, and he still wanted time for Mikasa.

It had gone well, they'd taken fame okay, and Eren had been proud, neither of them had a sex-scandal or a pregnancy scare yet. They'd even been inching towards finally being something more than just friends, a few heated looks, some on-stage kisses to finally get the ball rolling.

Then Mikasa had been cast in an upcoming romance movie and her love interest hadn't been Eren, it had been Jean.

That had been the start of his spiral.

He'd never meant for it to get so far out of control, how many movies he started doing, how many promotions. Meanwhile Mikasa, smart, brilliant Mikasa stuck with smaller projects and only ever one at a time, preferring to keep close to their apartment. He was all she had, and she was all he wanted.

Nights when I just needed to hold somebody

He misses her, lays in bed awake at night thinking about her, how long it’s been, when was the last time he saw the curve of her face in person and not in a washed-out picture on a magazine. Girls in and out of his apartment, trying to fill the empty void inside him, and nothing works, nothing ever works. Because he’d fucked it up, said he didn’t need her, told her he could do it on his own, fame wouldn’t take him. Called each other names, every one in the book, screaming matches over stupid shit, if he should take that job, what she was doing with Jean, how she was eating, if she was eating enough.

The toxicity was palpable in their apartment until finally Mikasa just left and he broke.

Feeling overwhelmed, should've told somebody

Fame takes him like a drug addiction, actually it comes with a drug addiction, heroine, cocaine, molly, all of it. In trying to ditch his Hollywood’s sweetheart, good boy image he diverts his life so radically he doesn’t know if he can ever get back to where he was. He loses weight, barely gets by, he doesn’t even understand how he’s still getting booked, but people want him even more now that he’s Hollywood’s bad boy. Meanwhile Mikasa is disgraced now that he’s ‘thrown her away’ even though it was the other way around. Last he heard she lived in a little apartment on the upper east side, leaves only to work, and to fly up to see their families. He hasn’t seen his parents in months, doesn’t want to. Doesn’t want to see the look in their eyes when they realize how skinny he’s gotten, how his body lacks muscle, skin barely clinging to bone, gaunt and lifeless.

He needs help, but he’s spiraling, he’s committed and no matter how many times Armin tries to get him into rehab, he never goes. What’s the point Mikasa is gone, he’s not getting her back, all he has now is the money, the drugs, and the women.

Picturin' it's me sending chills through your body

He hears she’s dating Jean now and somehow, he gets worse.

Every fear he’d ever had comes to life and he gets angry, his temper coming back full force. The past few months he’d barely been getting by, not really living, but his rage awakens him. She’d told him no, that they weren’t dating, never so much as kissed outside of work. What a fucking lie.

How many girls he takes home that month he doesn’t know, how many paparazzi photos of women leaving his apartment, how he dreams it’s Mikasa under him, not some rando.

He sees her on the cover of some magazine, walking innocently with Jean and it sends him into even more of a rage, but under it all he wishes it was him, doesn’t matter that they were never official, that it only happened a few times, he wants her back. But Eren’s never been good at navigating his emotions, so he clings to his rage like a lifeline.

I just probably should've chilled 'til I saw you

When they ask about her in interviews, he doesn’t answer. Not until that once, when he lets it slip and he watches Armin wilt in real time from behind the camera as he spits the words, “I think it’s obvious, she’s with Jean now isn’t she, right after she was with me, figure it out yourself.”

The insinuation is lethal, cruel, mean and he knows it’s not true, but he says it anyway. He knows she didn't do it, but still the coincidence hurts too much, the very thought that there might have been something romantic going on with them before makes him want to throw up.

The interviewer looks shocked before he brightens up at the tidbit of information, like a vulture picking apart the last pieces of his heart, massacring it further, but Eren doesn’t mind the pain anymore. It fuels his rage and that’s all he has these days.

How am I supposed to get to know somebody?

When the rage wears off months later and Mikasa has done nothing, no comment on his interviews, no appearances, no angry texts, just silence, he becomes numb. Then the sadness sets in, because losing her romantically isn’t even the worst part, he doesn’t even have his best friend anymore, he’s lost her too.

She’s become a recluse, a hermit, he hasn’t even seen her with Jean on the magazine covers lately. Distantly he knows it’s because their movie is finished filming, and she was probably never dating him in the first place.

He goes to awards shows in hopes of at least catching a glimpse but she’s gone into hiding, there’s rumours she’s back in their hometown, but he’d never visit, not with the disgrace he’s become. He tries to date seriously, tries to talk to other actresses, but it’s all so vacant, disingenuous. All they want him for is his image, there’s nothing real about these women anymore, everything is fake, plastic right down to their boobs. Nothing like Mikasa, who was pure to her core, even in the face of her fame.

If we broke it off then you know it wasn't painless

He'd cried for weeks after she'd ended it, despite it being entirely his fault.

Armin had cancelled all his engagements and Eren hadn't left the apartment, curling himself up on her empty mattress, her room a barren wasteland.

He'd only eaten when Armin forced him too, and only come out of his hibernation after his mother had called to yell, Armin holding the phone right in his ear, the first time he'd spoken to her in forever.

If she got a watch then you know it's not a stainless

He’s got money, but it means nothing. Mikasa has money too, it doesn’t even matter. What has it all been for? He doesn’t even know anymore. All he’s gotten from his acting career is trust issues, more money than he knows what do with and the loss of his best friend and the only girl he’s ever loved.

It’s all a blur now, he acts, he models, he does PR. Armin makes him a schedule and he follows it. They meet with his nutritionist and his personal trainer, and he starts working out again, eating real food, not just smoking, and drinking coffee to supress his appetite.

Armin is the only reason he’s still a functioning human being as Eren hits rock bottom. The only one left to try and push him out.

I was out here fucking fans, I was shameless

He knows he fucked up, it’s why he starts therapy.

The shit he’d done, high off his own fame and arrogance, it’s messed up and he he knows it now. All the girls, all the money and the drugs, ignoring Mikasa’s concerns, dragging her down with him.

He doesn’t blame her now, he knows none of it was fair, she was justified in leaving. They were toxic, their half on, half off relationship, how he'd commit to the drugs but never her.

He can still remember the first time he kissed her, really kissed her, Eren and Mikasa not two characters on screen. It was after their first awards show for their movie, he’d been so excited, so delightfully sober, he couldn’t help himself, she’d been so pretty in her white dress, he’d leaned down before he could stop himself. The first night they’d had sex, her moans, her soft cries of pleasure, nothing had ever measured up since.

It had been bliss, for about a month or so and then they’d really been discovered, and it had all been shot to hell.

All the fans, all the women throwing themselves at him, his eyes couldn’t help but wander despite Mikasa always being the most radiant in the room. He had her love, he’d had everything, but that insidious voice in the back of his head had wondered. Thought the grass was greener on the other side, wanting to explore fame at the same time they’d finally started their relationship.

You was at the crib reading stories that they sent you

They’d kept it casual at Eren’s insistence and Mikasa’s heartbreak, his rock had been willing to allow it for him, for the chance to finally explore their relationship. But he could see how much it hurt her, the tabloids were the worst part, every day a new cover, another apartment he’d leave, another hookup in the parking lot. And he could barely justify it to himself, why he did it, why he continued to do it? He had everything he could ever want in Mikasa, the girl he’d loved since forever, finally in the palm of his hand, willing to give herself wholly to him.

And yet fame had called him more, and the people he was hanging out with only encouraged it, the famous lifestyle, drugs, sex and rock and roll.

Everyone was doing it, so why shouldn’t he?

Most of that was bullshit but some of it I did do

The rumours spiralled out of control after a while, there was nothing he could do, it was over, they had too much on him.

He'd been telling himself lies that maybe she was with Jean on the side, that she had the same opportunities as him, she could go out and sleep around too.

As if Mikasa would ever even consider it.

He’d finally given into being exclusive, seeing the toll it was taking on Mikasa, after Armin smacked him upside the head and told him he was going to lose her if he didn’t get his shit together. Eren had finally realized how irreversibly he was fucking up his relationship, but by then, it had been too late.

When they finally started truly dating, monogamy and all, it had been far, far too late. The backlog of photos the paparazzi had was ridiculous, any opportunity they got to demonize him they took.

He and Mikasa been casual at the time of all the photos, sure, but anyone would buckle under the weight of constant articles about their significant other cheating. Eren became the villain in his own story, and Hollywood loved it, ‘Bad Boy Eren Yeager Ditches Mikasa Ackerman’. He still remembers the headline, it was the straw that broke the camel’s back, she’d come home, dropped the offending magazine on the coffee table and hidden in her room for the rest of the night. He’d slept outside her door, and the next morning he’d been woken by her stepping over him to leave, bags packed.

It was sad, they’d never even officially dated to the public, they hadn’t gotten to that point. She’d wanted to reveal it at some awards show by taking him as her date, thanking him in her speech, her boyfriend, Eren Yeager. Overnight the paparazzi had singlehandedly broken them up for shit he hadn’t even done.

He had no one but himself to blame.

Hard for me to justify the women I was into

Looking back, he can’t say why he did it or what the purpose of all the models that looked eerily like her were for. Maybe he was trying to fill the empty space in his heart, maybe he felt neglected by her friendship with Jean and how obvious the man’s feeling for her were, but for one reason or another, he’d slept his way through about half of the Victoria’s Secret fashion show, and award shows were awkward these days. Meeting the eyes of all the talented women he’d hooked up with in such a professional setting was uncomfortable at best.

How many more did he not even remember, to high off drugs and alcohol and his own ego?

Especially when the whole entire world wished they had you

He’d seen it in how Jean looked at her the first time they’d walked the red carpet as promotion for their movie. The tall man was a b-list actor and he’d been invited to the pre-screening, and he’d watched Mikasa the entire night. His gaze wasn’t moved by Eren’s arm wrapped protectively around her waist or his chin resting on her head, nor the possessive hand on her thigh.

They hadn’t even been fooling around back then, but he couldn’t help himself, he didn’t want Jean’s eyes on her. She was also Mikasa Ackerman, and the whole world thought she was just as beautiful and amazing and perfect as he did.

But she was his. His best friend, love of his life, his everything

If only he’d treated her like it.

Probably made you want to hit the streets on everything

She doesn't take him to the awards show the night he comes begging, but she lets him inside her apartment. Lets him help her with her hair, something he's sorely missed. Something he's familiar with, been braiding her hair since they were kids.

He helps her put it up into a beautiful twist.

And when Jean knocks at her door to take her to the awards show he lets her go, kisses her cheek and tells her how much he loves her, how she's going to win it all and he'll be waiting her when she gets back.

And then she leaves, walks away with another man and Eren thinks he deserves it, it's his penance, how many times has she felt this same way, how many women has he been through?

Probably made you want to pour bleach on everything

He discovers not a single remnant of himself in her apartment, no pictures, no clothes she's borrowed. Even his old sweatshirt, her favourite one is gone. Hell, even their award for best-onscreen-kiss is gone.

He finds it all in a crumpled box under her bed and it's his own fault for snooping, their photo crumpled up and misshapen, riddled with water damage. Probably from her tears if he had to guess.

Probably made you want to kill me on everything

She comes home that night and Eren is surprised, he'd expected her to go to Jean's. Hadn't really believed she was going to come back. Had resigned himself to sleeping on the couch and waiting till tomorrow when she'd come home dishevelled and covered in hickeys and bruises, the kind good sex gives you. The kind he'd never really allowed himself to give her.

That's when she'd really broken and he'd been so fucking happy when she'd thrown her purse at him. No more of her her silent rage, her forced smiles. She'd kicked and screamed, cried in his arms only to hit him brutally with a pillow, chasing him to the end of the couch. Hands restraining his wrists, as she curses him out, tears running down her beautiful cheeks sparkling in the moonlight, she's a vengeful goddess and he deserves every second of her wrath.

She collapses on top of him in a heap of sobs and all he can do is hold her, hating himself just as much as he's sure she does.

Yeah, trust, I know that

He wakes the next morning with her weight in his arms, and he holds her like he never wants to let go.

He's lucky she's even here with him right now, that she didn't kick him out on the spot. That she even cares enough to still fight with him. He kisses her forehead softly, he knows.

Yeah I kinda hate this but whatever have angst 🤷🏻‍♀️

[godofevrerything]

How Zutara Should’ve Happened (my take anyways, if Zuko still joined the Gaang in Season Three)

Alright, so I’m a Zutara shipper. Anyways, here’s my rant of the day.

So, if Zutara were to be cannon, let’s say that we wouldn’t change the cannon, other than that. Also full disclaimer, I don’t really like Kataang. It’s cute, and sweet, buuuut I think that they would be better off single or with other people. I personally ship Taang so much-

When I first watched it, I really wanted Katara to end up single. I thought that would be a fitting ending for her story. But hey, she didn’t, and that’s fine.

This is not an anti Kataang post, seriously. If you ship it, cool, I don’t, but everyone had different opinions. Just please don’t come to my inbox and yell at me.

Aight, under the cut bc it got long.

So, if we weren’t gonna change the cannon, Zuko still joins in season three and all. Katara and him would still have a rocky relationship at first, and for good reason, I mean wtf Zuko what happened at the CoTL?

Rant for another day

Anyways-

What I would think is that Katara couldn’t help but notice how Zuko is trying to gain their, and her trust. I mean, she’s pissed but still, she notices. It doesn’t make her forgive him or anything, and it shouldn’t, but she does see it.

Now, I’m thinking little moments. Like when he shoved her out of the way of the falling rocks? Yeah, she still snaps at him, but maybe after she’s a little less fiery. Just a bit.

And then after TSR, things start to change. Of course, we get the iconic hug, but!! I want another scene, when they’re coming back from the trip.

One thing that always bothers me when I read Zutara stuff is that writers rarely address Zukos betrayal in TCoTL. Like,,, maybe I haven’t read the right fanfics but c’mon guys.

I really think, no, I know that Katara and Zuko should address that. I really want a scene, when they’re coming back, while Katara is sorting out whether to forgive him or not, I want them to talk about it. And sorry if it’s OOC- But Like so:

Katara: Why did you do it?

Zuko: ...do what?

Katara: Why did you fight with Azula? I thought you changed, I thought you would’ve fought with us.

Zuko: I-

[ a moment of quiet]

Zuko: I thought about it, and I almost did-

Katara: [turns around to face him] Then why didn’t you? Why did you choose that?

Zuko: I wanted my honor. I wanted to go home, and I thought- I though that if I fought with her, I could get my honor back.

[Katara doesn’t answer.]

Zuko: But Im sorry. I am.

Katara, quietly: I thought you changed...

Zuko: I have, now, I mean.

Katara: Why was your honor so important to you anyways? And what do you mean by ‘wanted to go home’?

Zuko: I- I was banished. Until I found the Avatar, I couldn’t go back.

[Katara turns, studying him, then turns back around]

Katara: ...You couldn’t go back, ever?

Zuko: No.

[She doesn’t speak after that, and neither does he.]

Okay, so maybe that was too OOC, but they did need to have a conversation something like that. A conversation where Zuko explained, at least a bit about why he fought with Azula.

And then, after that, the hug and forgiveness. But that was a turning point in their relationship, and I don’t like that so little fic writers address that.

And then!! I want little moments. Just small moments, maybe a bit more teasing, a bit more concern on Kataras part.

Also, let’s face it: Zuko would be simping. Katara wouldn’t be lovey dovey, no, she wouldn’t. Zuko would be the simp, Zuko would be the one stuttering slightly at teasing and stuff.

Just little moments, nothing big bc c’mon, they’re kids. They’re teenagers in the belp middle of a war.

Speaking of which! I really want one more scene between them. After Aangs noncon kiss in the Ember Island Players, I want there to be a scene where Zuko finds Katara and she vents to him.

Also I’ve been losing my damn mind trying to find a gif series for that bc someone on Tumblr made it and I can’t find it- fkdndd

Okay, but along with a huge chunk of the fandom, it really makes me mad that they didn’t show more of Kataras reaction, and that Aang didn’t apologize. Like wtf Aang.

I would’ve been fine with anyone coming to Katara, or telling Aang that was wrong but- Didn’t happen. They just glossed over that part smh.

But! Say Zuko were to come and talk with her about it. And then at the end, he might ask her why she was confused, Maybe something like this:

Zuko: If you don’t mind, why are you so confused?

Katara: I don’t know! But it’s in the middle of war. It isn’t over, and now isn’t the time for... for romance.

Zuko: But that doesn’t mean that you can’t be happy. I mean, look at Sokka.

Katara: I’m not Sokka.

[They both go quiet for a minute]

Katara: Sorry, Im just... It’s too much to deal with right now, and we have to focus on ending the war.

Zuko: No, I get that. It’s fine.

Katara: I’m just- I’m confused, and now isn’t the time and-

[She pauses, and the two look at each other for a moment. All is quiet.]

Zuko: I.. can go, if you want. If you need some space.

Katara: Yeah, that would probably help.

[Zuko walks away. As he does, Katara is staring at his back, a thoughtful expression on her face]

Yes, yes, I think that would make sense in the romance line. Mirroring when Zuko was staring at Kataras back.

Alright, so everything would be same, up to Katara healing Zuko after the Agni Kai. But there would be subtle differences. She takes his hand and holds it instead of putting her hand on his back. No big “I love you” or whatever. Just holds his hand, and maybe a line like “We- I could’ve lost you!” Maybe.

And then! One last thing, instead of that long Kataang kiss at the end, a scene between Katara and Zuko, talking about their futures.

I’m a really big fan of Water Tribe Ambassador Katara, and it shows.

Katara: So.. Fire Lord Zuko, huh? Finally regained your honor?

Zuko: [groans] Yes, now stop it.

Katara: [laughs] Nope, never gonna stop.

[Theres a minute of quiet]

Zuko: And what about you? Are you going back to the SWT?

Katara: I am. The Northern and Southern tribes... they need to connect again, not become one, but the connection was frayed with the war, and someone has to take a step to rebuild it.

Zuko: What about the Air Temples?

Katara: That’s up to Aang. I’ll help him of course, we all will, but he’s the last air bender. He’ll take care of them, like I’ll take care of the Water tribes.

Zuko: With Sokka too, I’m guessing.

Katara: I don’t know about that, actually. Sokka may want to travel a bit, scope out the world.

Zuko: And you don’t?

Katara: I do, and I will. Sokka and I, regardless of whatever travel, we’ll work together to take care of the tribes.

Zuko: [chuckles] And I’ll be here. I’m going to try to undo the damage the war did. Open up relations again in the Earth Kingdom, sort out the colonies.

Katara: Don’t overwork yourself.

Zuko: You shouldn’t either.

[She laughs, and stops in front of the pond, looking at the turtle ducks]

Katara: Zuko..

Zuko: What?

Katara: [turns to face him] We... went through a lot. And I have something that I need to tell you.

Zuko, sweating slightly: ..yes?

Katara: Relax, it’s nothing bad!

Katara: I..

[Katara takes his hand and smiles. Zukos eyes widen and he looks down at their hands]

Katara: Well?

[Zuko looks back up and smiles at her.]

Zuko: You’re going to visit sometime, right?

Katara: Course I will.

[He smiles again, and intertwines their fingers. It’s quiet once more, then off in the distance, Sokka yells something]

Katara: [laughs] Now c’mon, your Honor. Let’s go.

[She pulls Zuko down the path towards their friends, and all their laughter can be heard. The End comes up, and the credits roll]

So!!

No big ily confession, no long kiss. Why? Because they’re kids. They’re fourteen and sixteen, there shouldnt be an ily, there shouldn’t be an uncomfortably long kiss.

Later, of course. But now? Let’s them just hold hands and tease each other and relax a bit.

Anyways, that’s my Zutara rant of the day, thanks for listening.

[noro-noro-noro]

i am changing my oc lore again to give mires a slightly better ending rather than “dying of a horrible disease by himself in the future”. & this also adds into diorr killing dys in the time loop bc i could never figure out how she finally did it without divine intervention (ie erl killing mar, who dys is aligned with). but having mires help her kill dys would be more satisfying for his story . also changing the FUTURE DISEASE eliminates my need to create another species of creature. yeah baby

ok so where we’re at rn is that after his first meeting with dys, she disguises herself as another person & also uses her abilities to make illusions & sleep deprives him & isolates him from other people & then when he’s reliant on her she fakes her persona’s death & sends him into The Bad Times & THEN uses him. 

i think it’d be more fun for her to try & appear to him like a sympathetic villains the way bitches on the internet (i’m bitches) love sympathetic villains, like she can be talked out of world domination & apocalypse, she’s just a girl who’s grieving the loss of her father & wants revenge so bad, etc etc. but she’s playing him like a damn fiddle. mires does all the mind-reading work for her willingly & she allows him to think that he’s changing her for the better, but she’s completely a bitch & lying so none of it is true. but all the abusive tactics ie the isolation/gaslighting/etc etc remain the same bc i researched those a while ago when i was first writing this. maybe she also is like “we can bring your brother back too” since i just made up his brother last month but that’s another trauma point for him. 

anyway she does her Grand Evil Reveal & infects him with the rotting disease & sends him to the future, where he is doing absolutely shit ass awful because he is 1. rotting, & 2. horrible awful mental state, 3. people want to study him because he has a giant glowing eyeball in the middle of his head. the rotting disease spreads from there & it’s too late by the time people realize something’s up. we have had this pandemic the past year so i dont even need to research how people would react & not take it seriously :/ 

anyway!! i haven’t decided exactly how it would work - i originally thought the apocalypse would happen something like this in 2 parts. 1: machine rebellion. 2: coordinated void creature attack (if y’all remember that lady lud loved earth so much she neglected her other planets to the point where all life on them became corrupted & evil & rotten, & this evil life went & attacked zelir’s planets, which is why he showed up to kill her in the first place & she sealed away the evil planets as an apology, but the evil lifeforms were just in a void dimension waiting for their chance & dys made contact with them etc etc). 

but i think it would be cooler if i could make thrass into more of a mad scientist type shit since he was made to be a genius anyway - he developed some kind of disease that rots your flesh & transforms you into a void creature/turns your body into an incubator+portal type thing where you’ll explode & die? something based on your life force so the older/stronger you were the more powerful beast comes out (this paves the way for mires to become the host of something truly awful) i haven’t thought htat out yet, but it’s a lot easier than dys having to create a species of swarming crawler species that dutifully scratches at the fiber of reality every day. dys has access to lud’s magic but she doesn’t understand how to undo the seal? or maybe zelir helped seal it too & she doesn’t want to get rid of her father’s remaining wish even though he was a huge cunt. i actually have no clue how she feels towards him aside from in my lore where i wrote that he spoils her but i assme it was some kind of love. 

anyway, that all happens, mires infects everyone in the future, apocalypse begins. since he’s still got his limited immortality (aka heigtened resilience, won’t age) he hasn’t succumbed to the disease yet. it’s just destroying him slowly. he encounters diorr early on & they become friends & travel together for a while & mires is also able to tell her everything he knows about dys, but mires is steadily getting worse. diorr (abandonment issues) does not want mires to leave & still naively believes he can be cured, & he agrees with her that he’d never leave bc he doesn’t want to make her sad. when he realizes he’s about to transform/change/etc he leaves in the middle of the night anyway  & she never sees him again. diorr trauma moment --> diorr decides to stop making friends. 

maybe on her journey to dys’s pcket dimension she keeps encountering an especially large & tenacious fucked up creature. thats mires. would she ever realize? i don’t know.  what does the creatuer want. to kill her? why. does it remember anything? let’s put a pin in it. 

anyway thrass gets sick & bored of dys’s power trip & figures out how to allow diorr to keep her memory between time loops. thrass is so bored. he misses pop music. dys doesn’t need his help anymore but she won’t kill him. he just sits around all day. he isn’t exactly betraying her bc he has no allegience to diorr either he’s just bored. 

anyway eventually mires (evil mutated form) shows up with enough sentience to help diorr kill. he has a moment to get a killing blow in (is this still related to the divine intervention erl kills mar bit? i would like them to kill her with their own power bc it’s more impactful but also my 14-year-old self is still hooked on hopeless situations completely out of the main character control where tthey’re saved only through some kind of accident, so why not both??) but he still hesitates bc of everything he’s been through & gets incapacitated, but it’s the normal anime shit of he wakes up in time to take a killing blow/allow diorr to land the blow 

so that’s another good moment because when she finally kills dys it’s bc she made friends (mires) & mires gets his revenge, sort of. 

then the rest is the same: diorr’s robot half is strong enough to absorb the energy from lady lud’s eye & channel it properly & revert the world so everything is okay again, mires (dying) has a vision of lady lud coming to him & taking her eye from his forehead & he almost follows her but decides to go on living. & he wakes up & he is no longer a fucked up monster & he’s ok. or at least ok as he can be with like 3 centuries of trauma.

or i do wake him up with NO memories of his past, he lived his life as normal, but he meets diorr again like “hey do i know you?” & she’s like “i don’t think so”. maybe his family is alive....man would it be fucked if she dragged him back into this whole war thing right when he’s living an okay life? should she be friends with him again or should she just avoid him? maybe he eventually approaches her like “don’t i know you?” & she lies to him to avoid sucking him into the new drama of ERL KLILED MAR EVERYTHING IS UNBALANCED but he ends up helping anyway. 

i want him to live a happy life because he deserves it but i don’t know what his happy life would be. well that’s all for now i’ll come back one day.

oh yeah after dys’s death, thrass vanishes. maybe he’ll become a radio dj or a sound guy for concerts. i want him doing something completely mundane. maybe he lives in a small town & everyone is eventually like “yeah that’s Thrass, he works twice a week at the library & is a regular at the local restaurant. no we don’t know why he is the way he is but that doesn’t bother us.” i think that’d be fun. 

[kingsofneon]

ayyy its me coming in here!!! i have no requests off the bat but uhhhh ok ok hear me out. acesabo but with like. a finger kink or something? like, long pretty fingers fingering the hell out of each other or just sensually sucking on it, idk, i'll let you decide. OR, more expansion on robinkoalasabo, blease?

look okay look im just. vibing with sabo/ace rn so i gotta talk abt them but real quick i love argumentative best friend/enemy / qpp koala/sabo and both of them liking robin, LMAO !!!!! bitch!!! that shit’s hilarious. robin i think would be uhh....unused to such honest attraction? yah sabo’s a lying liar but there’s a difference in his...sarcasm vs his “I’m telling a lie so you don’t know the truth I dont want to tell you”, is what i think. so idk in what i set up i guess we have ko/ro first and Kinda girlfriends (im.....ded for fro/bin tho soz so absoLUTE we have not-yet-together-kinda-feelings-but-complicated-bc-trauma robin/franky + bc theyre not together the...flattery + enjoyment of koala’s personality and company...) friends w/ benefits didn’t-really-date but like each other a lot. and koala so sunny and happy buuut also spending Lots of time with robin - just hanging out but also sexy fun times - and sabo’s like “no I’m not sulking shut the fuck up” (but he’s totally sulking because he Liked robin too, she was someone he respected highly and she! knows! luffy! he doesn’t say anything to her about it bc he’s guilty as fuck but. boii wants those strawhat stories and he can’t sneak them out of her with koala taking up all of her attention.) 

koala picks up on his grumpy mood but just figures he’s being a dick abt smth, but robin’s like nah look, pattern, and koala’s like oh. OH? 

idk what they do but w/e we be vibing with nsfw, which is sabo’s. sabo’s fucking fingers man. the tensile strength. BUT ALSO he’s not very delicate, not very good with flexibility, so robin,,ho fuck boi. when against koala the dichotomy of the roughness vs that clever stroking, but then also bRO im thinking about sabo viewing masturbation etc. pretty clinically and also Be Careful Of Strength, ain’t gotta lot of time to jerk off when you’re running the revolution u know.

so like the first time robin tops im fucking laughing. koala’s probably just as rough/efficient as he is but robin...robin can unlace him in like a minute flat and figures out real quick that sabo likes being edged. the first time robin touches his prostrate..........boi. 

anyway omfg that was longer than i thought so hand kink + sabo/ace

FIRST 

if you haven’t read.......second chances (https://archiveofourown.org/works/15495015?view_full_work=true).........what are you doing. look at this shit:

“You want to watch me jerk it like this?” The buckle rattled with Ace's gesturing, and Sabo's eyes immediately fixated darkly on the belt. “Then I uh, I get to make a weird request too.”

“If you must,” Sabo replied, sounding the exact opposite of beleaguered as he discretely wiped the spit off his palm. Ace cleared his throat.

“Put on your gloves.”

Ace refused, refused to look away from the devious delight spreading across Sabo's stupid face.

“Oh Ace,” he purred, those damn fucking gloves appearing in his hands out of nowhere (did he have them tucked in his pockets this entire time?). With deliberate motions, Sabo smoothed the leather over every finger, and flexed, like he was about to whip out one of his ryusoken moves. “Are you sure you just want me to jerk off in these?”

“Well if you've got any lube tucked away,” Ace shot back, “now's the time to pull it out, put on a good show.”

Sabo's consequent exhale was nowhere near the flippant-and-suave chuckle he had clearly been aiming for. Smugly, Ace counted a point in his own favor before dropping onto his back and finally—finally—undoing his pants. As his own belt fell with heavy thumps to both sides, Ace brushed aside all the pesky cloth, and applied pressure in earnest with a sigh of pleasure.

and this

And boy was it a view. The gloves were incredibly well-worn, molded so tightly to Sabo that Ace could see the full articulation of his fingers' every curve, every bend. The buttery leather, lighter in color at the fingertips, glided over Sabo with the barest whisper of friction. Ace could see his grip change, pressure shifting as he held himself tighter and tighter, grunting in frustration.

“Can I take these off?” Sabo finally requested with a hint of a whine. Ace suddenly thought of Marco, and how he might smirk at that tone, if he was here. “It's not working for me.”

“It's working fine for me,” Ace did his best to leer, thoroughly enjoying his own bare hand's capacity for friction. Sabo made another sound of protest, and Ace gave in with a snort. “Fine. Just one hand.”

“It's all I need.” The right glove disappeared as fast as it came, and Sabo arched high and satisfied into his own hand, now skin-to-skin. He obligingly let the gloved hand remain in play though, skimming teasingly up and down, grinning sharply at Ace's open mouth. “Hey,” he ordered, “go faster.”

AND THIS!

“Anything you want,” was Ace's breathless answer. He didn't stop, even sped up, gripping hard and fast and chasing that finale. “You can have it from me.”

“I would chain you down,” Sabo snarled, practically a threat, only the blade was turned wholly inward toward himself. Like he was daring Ace to give him absolution. “I would bend you 'til you're ready to break, and keep you there for hours. I would make you beg for release, but deny you anyways. I would see your skin dark with my bruises, I would, I would—”

Ace's hands twisted hard against his binds, wanting genuinely to be free of them for the first time since they started this—and Sabo's reaction was instantaneous. A flex of haki into his fingers, and Sabo was slicing through the leather of his belt, letting Ace loose with an expression of terror.

And Ace dragged himself across the bed until he could cup Sabo's cheek in his clean palm and pull Sabo into a biting, filthy kiss. He was still hard as sin, and thrust forward into Sabo's hands to let him know—

“Anything,” he panted into Sabo's mouth, meaning it with every fiber of his being. He didn't mean for Sabo to cut open the belt; he had just wanted, so badly, to feel Sabo's touch. “You have me.”

bitch. bitch. 

idk just gonna write some prompts bc this looks long

sabo + jerking ace off while wearing his gloves + barely washing them (to ace’s embarrassment) bc he claims he likes having evidence of ace. they’re usually kept for when he’s at home tho, sabo’s gross but not that gross ;p (and ace would probably die LMAO)

 SORRY BUT THE POST I JUST REBLOGGED ABT HOLDING YOUR THUMB DOWN TO HAVE NO GAG REFLEX UM. Ace says he wants to try it but it feels weird so sabo’s like. ;) okay and runs his fingers over ace’s mouth, tapping and instructing him to hold his thumb down. tracing his teeth and teasingly not dipping his fingers down low enough, till ace glares at tries to argue smth like “this is not testing the trick” but that’s when sabo presses on his tongue, down his throat, and ace half-chokes on it. sabo just like ‘not like you have much of a gag reflex anyway’

was thinking abt this the other day but ace doing sabo’s nails and then being like dont ruin them! no touching until they’re dry but sabo’s like but idk when they’ll be dry???? bc he’s never used nail polish before and ace is like :) better not touch then as he teases sabo

ace ofc painted them gold and red bc theyre His Colours and the next day when they’re dry and pretty sabo spends ages running his hands against ace’s skin, fascinated and worshipping of how pretty ace is

before they started dating and when they were bad at handling alcohol, sabo kissing ace’s knuckles made that boi CATATONIC, his wrist would also make ace bolt bc Horny, he’s fucked when sabo kisses his wrist it’s just too...intimate. 

 headcanons, headcanons, they’re both pretty calloused in different ways...ace is like rope burns and shit, longer across his palm and knuckles, sabo has palm base bc of his pipe, but they’re confined, and then on his fingertips bc of dragon claw. AGAIN thinking about mr fast fuck brutality here like the STRENGTH in that boy’s hands wtf

ace’s hands have more scars, sabo has more callouses/micro-deposits bc he knows hand to hand/doesn’t start with a DF. 

idk where im going with that last one guess it’s just headcanons abt hands.  

that’s all fox, i like the number eight and i have so many other asks to do lmao

[spacegaywritings]

Hello, we are the Neighbours - 1/2

Heated Afternoons

Summary: Virgil and Remy have been close for years. Remy is rather shy with new people but supposed to introduce himself to the new neighbours - of course Virgil is around to help his friend! Turns out, the boring old neighbours have a hot adolescent and fae are pretty hot. Virgil uses she/her and he/him. Remy uses he/him. Emile uses they/fae.

tags: a LOT of swearwords, edginess, Teenagers scare the living shit out of me, weapon mention, hints at violence, slight creep factor, being salty at authority, lovingly insulting one another, food, piercings, kisses, bold moves, innuendo, visual puns, cigarettes (no smoking!), edibles, mentions of getting high, marijuana (implied), saying mean things about your mom but not really meaning it bc social anxiety ah Tumblr: next // ao3: all / 1 / 2 . // masterlist . My KoFi  - Support me ♥ or Commission me Story under the cut:

“I can’t believe she is doing that. This little bitch. I swear to fucking everything unholy, I will move out the second this stupid university accepts me.”

 Virgil glanced at his friend, the long man fidgeting wildly as he fumbled with his house keys.

 “You got them or not?”

 The addressed adult shot him an angry glare.

 “Of fucking course I do! Do you take me for an idiot, too?”

 The smaller one shrugged, his black and blue beanie moving a bit as if to shake itself in denial at the mean sound.

 “Do I look like I care that you are a crazy dog? I kinda stopped at some point, if you did not notice it before. Just for clarification, Riri.”

 Virgil flicked the rainbow button on his beanie heartlessly.

 “Can we go before your mom comes back and makes us bring these shitty biscuits, too? “

 Remy snorted in offence and pushed the little box with his elbow, not even sparing it a glance.

 “What-fucking-ever. Let us just go. Can’t take this shit with these two treating me like I am five. I am literally done with school and just waiting for an acceptance letter, I am even working and saving up and they still treat men like I am some fucking toddler who cannot even walk straight!”

 His friend rolled his eyes and pushed himself off the counter.

 “Yo, I am willing to babysit you, stop acting like that. I am allowed to baby you!”

 He heard a hissing sound when Remy sucked an annoyed breath through his teeth. His rainbow knee socks contrasted greatly with his sour mood. His whole outfit was about the opposite of everything people would expect from him. Except for his black combat boots. Those looked exactly like his knife-stabbing mood towards the whole world (well, safe for his friend Virgil. She would be safe for now.)

The young adult looked like the embodiment of sunshine and rainbows with the bright pair of knee socks hugging up his strong legs. His plain black skirt was lacy and lazy in the way it fell over his thighs. Askew, like the neon pink bow in his shoulder-long hazel hair. A white shirt saying “Sleep” in holographic block letters completed the odd look he offered. It was so huge, it was wearing Remy more than he wore it.

 Virgil shrugged, her unicorn/bunny onesie (“Virgil, this shit literally has a fucking tail like some of Bambi’s followers, not like a proud, rainbow-shitting creature to break laws and eat tears with supernatural ‘fuck you’ magic!” - “Shut up, maybe it was declared a unicorn because maybe this is what it feels like you intolerant moron”) called “Philly” largely encompassing her frame. It was white and pink - the little tail was as rainbow as the rest of his heart and mind.

..Even if nobody could see that.

 “You will get the biscuits if you are fast enough with me. Get your ass going!”

 Remy pocketed his keys at last and stuck his pink tongue out at his friend.

 “You were literally the one to keep dragging this whole thing out”, Virgil reminded him patiently, her hand digging into the soft pockets of whatever synthetic cheap-ass shit her comfortable dream suit was made of.

“You know, you got me and I look nice but I will fuck up a dude if he fucks with my little baby.”

 Something about her voice seemed to drop into a level of threat. Something... just something in his voice was so morbidly dark, it gave Remy chills for just a moment.

 He muttered, walking to the door.

 “I will not take you to the ice rink anymore if you flash a fucking knife, you silly bunnycorn.”

 Virgil followed, by now two unwrapped lollipops in hand. He stretched one into her friend’s direction, barely nudging his lips. It was coke and almost as dark as Remy’s raven, makeup on his mouth.

 “Bunnycorn sounds debatable. You may use it and I will refrain from stabbing you. Also, you know I dropped my butterfly into the fucking gutter. I will never get it out. Can’t exactly tell the cops I found an illegal weapon in there but want it out and in my possession. Too suspicious. They will get me locked up or some shit. I am not 13 anymore and they will fuck me up.”

 She shrugged.

 “Whatever. Eat the pop, bro”, he encouraged as she slipped the sweet ball on a stick into his mouth. The unicorn ripped the door open and swung it to the side so violently, the hinges cried and her body leaned in to follow the force her hand needed to contain.

 “Ooops, you are an eager piece of shit”

 Virgil shrugged and jumped down the little set of stone stairs. It was like these blocks of cobble stone. They were uneven and ugly. Truly hideous and useless.

A ramp would have been so much better, especially considering those were the flattest two steps of shit he had ever seen in his life. At least then Remy’s family would be able to get Remus in without carrying his stupid wheelchair - or needing to buy a fucking lift or whatever they usually did. Stairs sucked anyway. This house was on the fucking ground, not in the sky.

 “I fucking hate your parents sometimes, not gonna lie, dude.”

 Remy shrugged at that.

 “Feel that every day, pal.”

 His friend smiled patiently as he closed and locked the door behind him, careful not to break it further. The door was okay but Virgil*s consistently energetic treatment was not.

 “Okay, whatever. Let us get to those neighbours. I am ready for the real shit going down!”

 Virgil hopped on her bare feet, the jingles on her earring dancing and chanting happily.

Suddenly, she stooped and flinched, her hands immediately flying to undo her buttons.

 “Yo- Yo what are you doing? Stop ch- WH - WHAt the FUCK ?!”

 The small social reject nudged the other and pointed her wet lollipop at him. There was judgement in his determined eyes.

 “If you wanna introduce yourself to the neighbours, you gotta establish dominance. We are gonna out-weird these boomers! This is the perfect strategy to make sure they are gonna leave ya and your dummy thicc brother alone.”

 The unicorn happily danced.... or just prepared for a violent attack at something.. someone. She was charging her energy. The ketchup paint on her pink undershirt assembled to say “Tell Jesus to suck harder”. It was framing the upper and lower parts of the shirt, perfectly framing the upside-down paragraph on it.

 “We are going. I want my stupid biscuits because your mom does not use raisins. She used fucking sprinkles and chocolate. This is my fucking aesthetic.”

A shrug accompanied the statement.

“Who likes raising biscuits anyway, I mean - really? Those are sad ones and if you don’t have any better, you take it but we are all striving for higher things in life.”

 Remy rolled his eyes but softly approached his friend. There was something vulnerable in his step when he offhandedly looked at Virgil, no scowl or complaints hiding away the feelings in his face.

A little bit of pain seemed to paint his features, exceeding the simple level of discomfort. He stretched his arms out for a hug.

His trusty idiot of a friend immediately pulled him in, her arms wrapping around his middle. A sigh tickled his neck.

 “I will fight your feelings”, he mumbled.

The taller one shook his head before shrugging.

“Just stay...”

 The sentence broke off.

Maybe it was just Virgil but these two words were just a part of so much more he could and should have said.

 Instead, the tall dude stretched his shoulders enough to tug his arms away from Virgil’s strong hug. It was nearly suffocating but not him, his bad feelings.

Virgil had the most grounding hugs Remy had ever felt. This could be all due to the bunny costume he was wearing but this was not the first time Remy got her embraces and suddenly felt wiped clean of all the bad feelings.

 A small smile dared to fly the corners of his lips upwards.

 “If she bitches around, we will dip. I will doubt it, though. She’s gonna be busy with Remus because fawning over him will never get tired.”

 He shrugged. It was quick and unconvincing.

After the shrug, his shoulders still seemed pulled down enough to be identified as “burdened”.

Virgil noted it with an eyebrow raise. She was too wrapped up around the lollipop to turn this matter into a long and wild evaluation of this family and all its issues.

They were better off than his stupid shit relatives anyway.

 “Hey, hottie, did I tell you about Logan?”, he asked instead. Something in Remy seemed to drop and he brushed against Virgil’s side as he took one of her hands and squeezed it.

 “No, tell me while we walk. What about Logan? Who is this even?”

 Remy was tame when grounded. He was so tame and nice when you were nice.

The man was calm when you showed him it was okay to be calm and right to be composed without imposing it as standard he had to follow.

 “Okay, listen!”, Virgil started, his naked feet jumping into motion and leading them on to their destination just a few houses down, “so, my sib came out, right? And..”

 She made a wet sound, a squelching could be heard as she pulled the lollipop out for a moment. Remy was so close, he swore he could hear the tiny gremlin swallow. He chuckled and leaned his head against hers for a bit.

It was more symbolic than practical and he immediately retreated after Virgil pressed her head’s side against his.

 “And they were looking for a name. Just a few minutes before I got my ass over to yours, they came up to me and said they wanted to use “Logan” as preferred name, so I was like “huh? But that is your name, sibby” and they groaned but took it as acceptance.”

 The taller one smiled weakly.

Their destination came into view.

 “You are a good sibling, you know? Logan can be happy to have you throughout all of this.”

 Virgil shrugged as she dropped the shrinking lollipop into her mouth once more. He pointed at the moderately-sized house. It looked sort of regular, one big VR still parked in the front.

 “This one?”

 Remy’s eyebrows narrowed, huddling together. They were slightly plucked but still looked natural. Somehow, Virgil felt proud of this.

A nod indicated yes at last. It felt annoying - how could a nod even express annoyance?

The unicorn snuggled closer.

 “Enjoy your coke, bastard.”

 The younger one groaned, rolling his eyes as he - once more - used the stairs.

Virgil scowled at them while the male glared.

 “Literally, stairs are a pain and we should fucking bomb them away, honey.”

 Remy squeezed his hand.

 “Uh.. I mean,,.. fuck stairs but.. um”, he looked down, his eyes showing him just how much he was standing on a stranger’s doorstep, “fuck.”

 Discomfort pooled in his hear, making him feel cold all of a sudden. It tickled in him but in a way that made him feel like he was going numb.. maybe he would just faint.

Instead, he kept stuttering about the door, just repeating the nonsense echoing through his burning mind

 “It is okay, Remy. I can kiss it away!”

 She grinned at him and leaned in. The stuttering stopped at once.

Wide eyes stared into the curiously baby blue orbs Virgil’s face held.

Coming closer and closer and-

 “Yo, I really appreciate the company, but I really just wanted to go back inside.”

 A voice like dark sandpaper rubbed between them, sawing their intimacy away and making Remy jolt in surprise. Hot, bloody anxiety flooded back into his consciousness whilst Virgil closed the distance between them as the unicorn/bunny stepped back before her tall baby.

 “Okay, bitch, that is it, I will fucking FIgthT yOU!”, he screeched, bouncing up.

 Remy acted fast to pull the furious ball of rage back into place. At least the unicorn was so small, he could easily contain the raging bean.

 The new voice was more than voice, it was a person. Evidently, they already looked like friends, despite Virgil’s sudden threats and Remy’s gut-freezing anxiety. The styles seemed to unify them. They all looked like a bunch of social rejects old people would frown upon and little kids would point at. Brave teenagers would be scared and young adults would try to dominate then.

 A person with an actual body stood there, dismissively leaning against the nearby wall of the house. A beanie adorned their head much like Remy’s and in contrast to Virgil’s messy ginger head.

Skin darker than a slight tan, eyes green like a miracle and so deep, deeper than the forest and every treasure.

A few strands of different colours could be seen to defy the beanie, They proudly stood out in the sunny light of a comfortable Sunday afternoon. Remy could identify a colour akin to pumpkins and different shades of green as if sculptured by nature personally.

 Unnatural colours for hair but still, the stranger wore them as if this was the most natural of all occurrences.

Was this a bit of light blue? It contrasted with the row of shiny piercings in the stranger’s ears -- they all looked like little cartoon items of food? And that nose ring was to die for...

 “And you wanna fight me, why?”

 Virgil hissed, his jaw snapping together but only biting air before the newcomer.

 “Ff-f-ucking ffforg-get it”, Remy jumped in, still mesmerised by how ripped someone’s jeans could really get. They were not revealing but fitting with a bit of space while being scratches and patched at any place he could identify.

 Virgil came back to life at this comment, vocalisations of all the threatening kinds were thrown like from a feral animal.

The “suck the right butts” shirt with a human cartoon butt next to a burning cigarette seemed to tickle Virgil a bit into a level of slightly less intense readiness to throw hands. At least the weirdo had some style.

 “Alright. Would you step away, then? I want to go back inside and eat my pancakes.”

 Something within Remy died as the person said that.

Oh fuck.

Everything that did not matter seemed to matter an this point.

 “You are the new neighbour?”, Virgil blinked dismissively and waved, “overrated.”

 The stranger clicked a tongue impatiently, one blonde brow quirking up in question without him repeating his words.

 “That b-bitch is on fucking coke o-or some ssshit! Don’t mind him!”

 Remy pushed Virgil to the side, his arms still wrapped around him as to not let her fall down these miserably sad stairs.

 Virgil huffed.

 “Coke? You fucking picky shit, You can have cherry if you want it! I took it only because I love you more than I like coke flavour and you fucking thank me like this? I wanted to be nice and you are being a dumb butt again!”

 He pouted.

 Emile looked as uninterested as ever. If there was a sleeping stone on the porch, maybe there would be a chance this person would be more interested but right now? Not so much. The person was unimpressed, forest eyes blank in apathy.

 “Listen, you two are very entertaining but -”

 Remy cut this speech off in a.... honestly, there was no words for what exactly this special piece of human did at this point.

For some anxiety-logic reason (and for this “reason” only), he smacked Virgil’s furry thigh and let out an inhumane screen before pushing himself in front of the door and pushing his hand between him and the new neighbour. Or whom he deemed to be that person.

 Virgil was next to him instead of before him and looking less smug or feral, just a tad confused at best. A reaction like this had her blink and swallow the cherry flavour of her saliva that came from the generous lollipop in her mouth.

He could not complain about that.

 Well, maybe Emile would complain.

 “Excuse you?”

 A blonde eyebrow rose up. The stranger looked at Remy as if he was nothing but a mortal insect to the mighty deity this person was.

 Remy was not shaking but his heart was uncontrollably sweating, swirling around his chest cavity and basically running in circles at an immense speed. Great panic ruled his existence and left him gasping and shaking his head for a moment.

 “I- I am bit- REMY!”, he started, “I AM REMY”

 He basically screamed his personal introduction at Emile. Panic regulated the tone of his voice and make his further screeches even more incoherent as Virgil just stood by, awestruck and frozen at this... this event of uncommon occurrence.

 Honestly, she would lie if she claimed to have ever seen this sort of behaviour before. This was pretty much a first after considering just how anxious Remy was around strangers. Maybe the gayness in the air was just overriding the last bit of influence his braincell had?

Virgil appreciated the feeling but did not share the sentiment (which is a lie). He really did not (LIE). He REALLY did NOT!! (cheap lie. Read: he very much did but pretended not to care as much while his eyes tried not to shape into tiny hearts for how attracted she was to this new person).

 Holy shit those two needed some more social contact other than each other.

 “I am Emile. Fae/faer and They/them. I am not not really-”

 Fae sighed, interrupting faer own sentence.

 “My grandparents lived here for longer. I am the only new one here. I came here for a summer job only, so you don’t have to deal with me for long. You can just go back and make out in front of your own house now.”

 Virgil blinked, underwhelmed.

 “Shut up.”

 Remy immediately drew in a gasp of air. It was loud, audible and more than just intrusive to anyone on the street. This sound could have been heard by everyone in the entire neighbourhood.

 “Virgil, you insolent prick, shut up yourself, you wanted to be nice and help! You are not getting knife privileges, you .. you.. sucky.. fucky.. me-mean...”

 He stumbled over his own words, suddenly finding himself at a loss of words as he was faced with the situation he was in.

This was too much. What was this even?

This was absurd, this is what it was. It was absolutely confusing and weird and not as it should have been. He should have given some stupid biscuits to some stupid neighbours and just bad-mouthed his mom for a bit longer because of how salty he got at the forced social interaction. Instead, he was caught in the gay panic that was this.. this fucking mess!

 “If you don’t say “yes”, tell us to leave”, Virgil growled as he leaned in.

Emile did not back away even by an inch.

 Actually, fae even leaned in, fae leaned in so much, fae could whisper right against Virgil’s lips. The thought of a word was lost on their lips as they moved and pronounced just enough of a “yes” for her to shoot forward and press their lips together.

 Within seconds, hands got caught up in fingers, in strands of hair and articles of clothing.

Virgil brushed over the beanie, trying to find something to hold onto as he pulled down the giant of a faeling for a good session. There was no real grip there. Instead, she opted to do the one good thing she could be doing instead.

 The unicorn tugged Emile down, pushing them against the door - right next to Remy who squealed in reply at the sudden crash.

They groaned into the kiss, hands looking for more roughness in the endlessly silkiness of a onesie. The push against the door was not even minded with as much as a mental note or even ...anything, really. The groan might have been nothing but pleasure.

 But as soon as Virgil, The Storm (TM), has come, as soon he left again. She pulled away, clicking her tongue.

Somehow, she must have lots her lollipop.

If he had even half a mind for anything but getting more of Emile, she might have realised how she had dropped it in the moment their lips had crashed. How else would lips get that close in the first place? Lollipops were a good way of policing closeness - too good. They prevented kisses too much.

 Virgil stepped back a bit, looking at Emile and Remy in satisfaction. Her curious eyes switched between one tall to the other tall pal.

 “So... you two gonna shake hands now and say the whole neighbourhood shit? I did not come here for nothing.”

 She shrugged, looking away as if to look for something. Sure, she found it on the ground. The pink ball of lollipop she had dropped in the excitement of sweeping in idiot up in a storm of a sudden kiss, the winds of passion and electricity of pleasure and excitement meeting.

 Nonchalantly, the unicorn picked up the piece of trash and threw it into the trash in front of the house.

All the while, Emile and Remy watched her quietly.

 “I told you to do the societal bullshit thing, so we can be nice and steal your biscuits Remy’s mom made.”

 She rolled her eyes.

 “I am Virgil, by the way. I am a unicorn and you would not dream to dream of me even in your wildest dreams.”

 Fae nodded.

A new sense of knowledge - respect - was in their violently green eyes.

Remy simply shook his own head into waking his brain up.

 “Remy, he/him. Virgil uses she/her and he/him.”

 He cleared his throat, voice weak but not exactly recovering even after his little treat to his throat. He swallowed his coke-flavoured lollipop liquids.

 “Sorry about ..”, he gestured towards his friend who cuddled up next to him as if he had done nothing more but given her mom a hug or whatever trivial thing like texting a bro, “that.”

 Virgil huffed but said no more, only leaned into his side and sighed, sounding surprisingly void of energy.

 “Do you want to come inside?”

 Remy flinched at the question. The hot neighbour was pulling this fucking beanie off their head, revealing their colourful hair. Green and blue, orange-ish and purple were easily spotted in the mess of a dyed paradise. Faer hair were curled like clouds. Exactly like clouds. It was probably the most balanced state between curled up and simply wavy hair.

 Virgil shrugged.

 “Nah, did you not hear us? We came here by force because we hate life but adults think you gotta be nice to new neighbours. So imma go to Remy’s and eat these fucking biscuits his mom made for you because they will be great and you cannot have them. You can dream of them.”

 She hugged him as if to prove a point.

 The neighbour shrugged.

 “Just wait a minute. I want to give you something. You guys.. you guys need it - you deserve it, you know?”

 They pulled the beanie back over their head.

 “Re- Remy? Can you move, I gotta get inside for a moment.”

 Fae gestured towards the door and Remy quickly pushed against Virgil enough to straighten up his slouching friend a bit and give way to Emile.

The feral idiot seemed.. pretty much asleep at this point. Was there any point in even trying to wake her up? Probably not.

 Anyway, the deity of a neighbour disappeared inside for a few moments and quickly came back with a little box.

 “Biscuits”, fae stated rather bluntly. So much about them was just so blunt and straightforward without being straight in the slightest.

“I don’t think mine are better. I know it.”

 They winked before disappearing into the house again, the door clicking shut with a loud and definite sound. For now, this was the last bit of interaction they would be able to squeeze out of faem.

But..

 Virgil shook awake at the sudden impact of the door slamming back into its frame and pushing the lock until it clicked and closed as it was supposed to act. Instead of staying awake, his eyes switched from shot-open to rolling up to reveal white only until his lids had the mercy of blanketing these pools of eyes.

Her head travelled upright against the door with a dull “donk” and immediately lost all support from her neck, therefore rolled back against Remy’s shoulder.

 “Virgil! Virgil, hey! Food!”

 The bunny mumbled and turned closer to hugged Remy from the side. His arms reached around the entirety of the barely dressed man, a few curious fingers started tugging at his short skirt.

 “Virgil!!”

 The naughty friend groaned at the loud noise as if she had room to complain with even a bit of ground to stand on.

 “Nooooo”, he whined. His body pulled back, forced by the magic of friendship to respect the boundaries of Remy’s super important message or whatever the shit,

He just wanted a nap and biscuits, man.

“Fuck..fuck you..mm”

 Virgil was still busy rubbing her eyes when the taller man pointed at the box.

 “We got more biscuits for you”, he informed the feral cryptid, “and it is in a box - Emile’s box. You know what that means.”

 The onesie-clot bitch shrugged, shaking his head. A moment passed while Remy hugged the box, a dirty grin appearing on his lips.

 “Wait~”

 He lifted the lid just enough to reach into the box and get the first biscuit. Instead, there was a little.. piece of paper?

Remy pulled at it until it was in proper vision to see. He skipped down the stairs while Virgil sluggishly stumbled down the miserable excuse of stupid stone stairs. Literally those shits should be forbidden and aborted. Everyone would just trip over stairs but not on ramps.

Ramps were cool. Get ramps, kids.

 “Vi, you h-”, Remy held his breath, stopping himself from saying anymore. Instead, he passed a note to a rather tired and moody baby of a bunny.

 >>Get high with me tomorrow? xx xxx xxxx xxxx - HMU, you two are cute. BTW, love the shirt.<<

 The awakening pal patted his own thigh suddenly, then the box and eventually reached up to Remy and pulled him into a kiss as if his lips depended on it.

It was much shorter than the wild session of kisses he had shared with Emile.

 Again, as soon as Virgil came, as soon she was gone again.

With that, she grabbed the box and ran off.

 “You bitch won’ be gettin’ any coke nor any COCK without me!”

 He jumped around the corner, back to where the two had come from.

 “You owe me a few cherry kisses yourself, Virgil!”

 Remy promptly ran after her, cheeks ablaze, baked from the sun of a thousand kisses, heart flying on the wings of compliments and mind thriving on the warming and tickling light of hope.

 Inside, Emile peeked out of the windows enough to see the two chasing down the block. Littering was bullshit but these two surely were some good.

 The new neighbours were not so bad after all.

[crqstalite]

drabble, mistrust. (malavai && tri’ama)

i played through quinn’s romance and while i understand the hate on him, i also absolutely adored the buildup to the quinncident as he romances her (or as tri romances him. oddly enough, romancing quinn sounds like you’re preying on him half the time.) and the conversation afterwards. however, i believed there had to be an interaction in between the conversation after the quinncident and the actual incident itself where the pc deals with not being able to trust the man she loves.

i’m so sorry this is p bad near the end bc i just needed to get this off my chest after playing as far as the incident. i haven’t even gotten onto corellia yet.

written : 7.15.19. published to tumblr : 7.15.19. word count : 3,002

════ ⋆★⋆ ════ character song: youngblood, 5sos (this song was made for a ls sw who had mercy on quinn)

character file: lord tri'ama amarlilis, emperor’s wrath

-

she has him at lightsaber point. the look in his eyes, god that pleading look in those usually cold blue eyes.

something in her snaps. she could kill him, she could choke him out and leave him here to die. she could leave him here without a second thought, take the others and murder this son of a bitch baras.

and he looks like he’d accept it. battered, bloody and bruised her quinn sits, one hand over his side where she’d almost stabbed him. she’d tried not to hurt him, she really had. but the shot in her shoulder was enough incentive to finally do something to get him to stop shooting at her. tri'ama has the glowing blade nearly against his neck, it wouldn’t be hard. a quick slash and it would be over.

he’s too understanding. too able to understand her jumbled emotions, not even a plea for his life. quinn understands she’s hurt. he would allow her to kill him, for what he’s done is unforgivable.

the hilt drops to ground, blade retracted as she tries her damn hardest not to cry. not to allow him to see her like this. giving him her uninjured hand to pull himself up on, she has to subtly help him stand. “my lord-”

“don’t.” she can’t bear to look him in the eye, but he understands, quieting immediatly. what was it all for, giving herself to someone who intended to betray her at the first sign of things not working out? she knew that romance didn’t ever end well in the empire, moreso in the sith order. but, stupidly, she’d believed quinn wasn’t like that. he was kinder than other imperials she’d met, cared for her injuries when they did happen, and let them move at a pace comfortable for both of them. “can you walk?”

tri'ama sounds choked up, she knows she does, but she turns around once she can see a visible nod from him. should she spare him? is it worth beating a man who’s already down? but it’s someone who betrayed her, someone who didn’t care that she loved him. all in the favor of his previous master.

she’s cold. absolutely freezing. she knows that her force abilities sometimes get out of hand to the point her emotions are so evident it changes the temperature around her. it could be as cold as hoth as she shivers, but her anger burning hot. betrayal hangs in the air as she continues walking back towards the airlock, hissing through her teeth as she moves her shoulder back and forth. it’s not broken, she doesn’t think, but…quinn was always the one to tell her when things seemed out of place. when things went wrong, he was there with a kolto pack or two.

her chest tightens at the thought. she trusted him, truly trusted him, not only with her life but also her vulnerability. she’d intended to keep this romance short, she’d had flings before the academy with other acolytes and any teenager unfortunate enough to flirt with her. she’d even had an unrequited crush on pierce for a bit, but she didn’t expect to be kissed, by quinn of all people. it lingers, as she pulls the memory from the depths of her mind.

it’s special because it’s from someone she…

someone she loves.

she’s never loved before. never truly given herself up to someone like she has for captain malavai quinn. how she offered him smiles and encouragement, and he often did the same, in that annoyingly quinn-way he had.

they eventually arrive to the airlock where the fury was docked. “quinn, go ahead. i will join you in but a moment.”

he hesitates. “my lord, do you…do you intend to tell the others what happened?”

her anger is beginning to disappate. at least at him, but she’s going to murder baras when she seems him again. but, forgiveness is not on her mind right now. a part of her says she’s lucky to let him live, to allow him to return to her crew even after what he’s done.

she raises her eyes to his. “no, i don’t intend to, quinn. it will remain…our secret.”

“thank you, my lord.” he attempts to bow for her, and she just wants to cry more as he grits his teeth before disappearing into the airlock. then, she’s alone. there’s no one on this ship, no one operating it but droids.

quinn intended to murder her, intended to leave her for dead. she could’ve died if she didn’t move when the first blaster shot was fired, only just barely missing. stars, she figured he didn’t want to hurt her at all. they danced around each other, after she destroyed his war droids with practiced accuracy. but when her grey-blue eyes met his colbalt blue ones, something softened in his face, firing off shot after shot that missed time and time again or bounced off her armor. the only real hit he’d gotten in was her shoulder.

tri'ama had done a surprising amount of damage. she’d never struck him directly, but a few force throws would do that to a person.

undoing the helm from around her neck, she breathes in the cool air of the ship as she leans against the wall. she’s trying to calm herself, but she’s shattering inside. tears well up in her eyes and they fall as she screams and cries like a child. like a wounded animal rage builds up in her as scattered boxes go flying. hands buried in her short hair, tri'ama doesn’t try to reign in her emotions. raw, powerful. that’s all she was, but she didn’t feel powerful right then.

she felt small. she felt oh so scared, terrified. she’d trusted quinn, she had trusted her partner. and he turns on her because of one darth making a power grab. sliding down the wall so that she’s sitting against it, she crumples, head buried in her arms. it hurts, god it hurts so much. it hurts, she just wants this pain in her heart gone, as it tears her apart inside.

“it’s not you, or me. it’s baras.”

she could owe everything to baras, from her apprenticeship after being under tremel for a few weeks, to giving her the permission to murder as many as she liked. gave her the opportunity to find her first lightsaber. to become a lord of sith.

and now what?

as the emperor’s wrath, she did what he and his hand asked. she no longer answered to baras.

she should’ve known, quinn would stay loyal to the person that gave him a career in the imperial military. all the signs were there, that unavoidable tic whenever someone said something demeaning towards the darth, whenever she expressed her annoyances for the man. when the voss had even told her someone would betray her, when pierce even mentioned there was no requirement for a transponder to dock at corellia.

she should’ve known.

she doesn’t know how late it is when she picks herself up and passes through the airlock. the ship is still light, and she hears talking from the galley.

tri'ama doesn’t want to talk to anyone, or she’ll start bawling like a baby. she won’t tell anyone of what transpired aboard the transponder situation, but she can’t bear facing the reality that baras intended to make her crew work for him, or kill them if they denied. vette, pierce, jaesa…even broonmark.

to see their lights go out, as she watched in horror as she stepped aboard the airlock above voss. crumpled up after fighting her rival, drahg. she’d fought with the raw strength of a woman in mourning, to the point even quinn himself was terrified afterwards, commenting she became more bloodthirsty at some point between then and when they met on balmorra.

did he know what was coming?

holding her helm in her hands, she races for her quarters, tripping over her own two feet. something is trickling down from her nose, and she already knows it’s not her own salty tears. she swipes at her nose, blood soaking into the underarmor she wears.

-

vette is the first to come find her in the coming days. she knocks a few times, mentions meals.

jaesa comes next, questioning whether she was allowed off the ship to do as she pleased.

pierce comes last, mentioning the plans for the bastion finally being nearly finished.

tri'ama doesn’t know how long it’s been. days, weeks. it couldn’t have been more than a month. she stays in her quarters, and only eats once everyone else has gone to bed. she does little more than that, and other than the every other day training with a practice saber in her room, she doesn’t do much.

she’s left alone with her own grief. she forgave him, but her heart wasn’t in it. she cries more than she ever has, a dam broken behind her eyes and in her heart.

she prays no one hears her. the heart shattering wails she stifles is for no one’s ears other than her own. she put this upon herself, trusting someone other than herself. but, for some reason she still feels that phantom arm around her waist as their lips crash together in the darkness of the cockpit, things left unsaid.

stupid, stupid, stupid!

she’s better than this, she knows that. but it happened, and now she’s reeling from the aftereffects.

“what did you even do?” vette’s voice filters through the door as she steps to leave the room. “tri’s been in there since you guys came back from that stupid transponder station.”

“i didn’t do anything.” quinn’s voice is shaky as he responds, her heart clenching as she pauses to listen. “possibly, she’s caught a cold.”

“bah, i’ve seen lord amarillis murder more people while suffering from the stomach flu, captain. what really happened?” pierce asks gruffly. “i’ve surely never seen her like this, never even leaving her quarters for meals with us.”

“why ask me? why not ask her?” quinn is losing options. it would seem suspicious, coming back from the transponder situation and not even speaking to one of them on her own. “i’m sure she’d be happy to answer.”

“i don’t think we’re talking about the same woman, captain.” jaesa remarks, quieter so that tri'ama can’t make it out the first time she speaks. “you’ve been planetside with her more than we have, the pure bloodshed when she’s angry. doesn’t it terrify you?”

“it does not.” he answers calmly. “if there is something wrong, i’m sure she will inform you when she needs to.”

there’s a thick silence before vette speaks up. “you did something, didn’t you?”

“what are you implying, vette?” quinn asks, coldly. he’d at one point gotten somewhat close to vette, at least to not to want to choke her out everytime he saw her, even to the point of conversing like normal people. but it didn’t sound anything like him, as if he were annoyed, or perhaps angry.

like how he’d sounded when he spoke to her.

half apologetic, but fully cold.

“you know exactly what i’m implying. you said something, o-or did something to tri! she really trusts you, and no shit why she’s hiding from us!”

tri'ama gave her credit, she was perceptive. too perceptive some days. “you would accuse me of such a thing?”

vette’s voice is quiet as she mutters something. “we’re not stupid, quinn. she really cares about you, even if she likes to play it off as otherwise. why else would she ignore all of us, if you didn’t have a hand in it?” tri'ama can imagine vette’s lanky form as she crosses her arms, gaze cold. “what really happened on that transponder station, captain?”

it’s quiet. you could cut the tension with a lightsaber, and tri'ama runs a hand through her short blonde hair. willing her hands to stop shaking, she opens the door to her quarters, as all eyes find hers. vette’s closer to quinn than she first assumed, standing directly in front of him in an accusing manner. pierce and jaesa sit on the couch, in various states of confusion and mild suspicion. broonmark is nowhere to be found, but tri'ama figures that’s a good thing. if the talz ever found out, she may send quinn home to dromound kaas in a body bag.

“tri!” vette exclaims. she’s trying to hide her obvious elation at seeing who she respects as an older sister and mentor, before giving a murderous glance to quinn. “you’re alright!”

“i was fine to begin with, vette.” she responds, cracking a small smile as her twi'lek friend visibly relaxes. “there is…nothing wrong.”

“you look like a woman in mourning.” vette responds, unconvinced as she crosses her arms. “did i wake you? i’m sorry.”

“do not be sorry, vette. i was awake already.” she says. tri'ama’s choosing her words carefully as she sweeps across the room, choosing a seat next to jaesa. she ignores eye contact with quinn, which while to the untrained eye he doesn’t seem bothered by, but to her, she can tell that her actions have ruffled him quite a bit, from the way he holds himself to the way his eyes flicker to her stiff form on the couch. “are you all okay?”

“ready for corellia whenever you are, m'lord.” pierce responds, standing from the couch. “vette was concerned something had happened on the transponder station a few weeks ago.”

“it’s good to see her concerns didn’t hold true.” jaesa says, giving her the wicked smile she’d always recognize her apprentice by. “if that is the case, vette, we have supplies to be restocking.”

vette pauses, opening her mouth to say something else before turning back to tri'ama. “tri, don’t hesitate to call me if he tries anything.” she makes a ‘i’m watching you’ movement towards quinn, who stiffens visibly before stalking after jaesa. pierce has already disappeared into the bowels of the ship, most likely to return to doing what he was prior or preparing for the attack on the bastion.

firmly keeping her eyes lowered, she twiddles her thumbs back and forth in her lap. vette’s right, she does look like a woman in mourning, wearing black greaves and a black tunic with her hair down. she’s not often dressed like this, often enjoying the color red against her pale skin, pale eyes and pale hair. a stark contrast to her natural look, black only makes her look more gaunt than she already is.

she hesitates before his name graces her lips. “quinn, may i speak to you?”

“of course, my lord.” his answer comes quicker than she first expected, a rushed response.

“in private, preferably.” he follows her into her quarters as she sits on her bed, made since earlier in the morning. she’s not sure where to begin once he steps inside, just moments ago wishing one of them would go away.

“my lord, i have my resignation prepared. i just need the word.”

her head snaps up to her captain. resignation? he was planning on resigning from his post here on the fury? “resignation? quinn-”

“if my presence offends you, my lord, i would not hesitate to leave. what i did was unforgivable, and you gave me mercy just allowing me to live.” she tensing again, the fabric of her tunic balled up in her fists. “i would not continue hurting the woman..the woman i love.”

“quinn, you would hurt me more by leaving.” the words leave her lips before she can take them back, and he seems shocked for a moment. “i grant mercy to those i care about, and you happen to be one of them.” standing, its a long few feet before she can stare up at him, those colbalt blue eyes boring into her soul. her arms go around him quicker than she wanted, collapsing into him as her emotions take over, tears falling down her face as she buries her head into his chest. “please don’t leave me, quinn. i couldn’t bear it!”

things are unsaid, but he hugs her back just as tightly. “if you will have me for that much longer, i shall not, my lord.”

she’s so absolutely compromised, but right then she doesn’t care. or she does, but buries it through her tears. quinn holds her as long as she cries, and they don’t talk, eventually moving to her bed. for a fleeting moment, she’s afraid that if she let’s go of the back of his uniform, he’ll run. that it’ll finally be too much for him, too much to deal with her and her emotions.

“please, do not ever do such a thing again. i have never loved, and i have already almost lost you.” she responds, wiping away a tear as they continue falling. “quinn, i do not know what i would do without you.”

“then do not believe it. i apologize my lord, it never should’ve come down to my loyalty against yours and baras’” he responds, quieter and softer than he’s ever spoken to her. he brushes a strand of hair out of her eyes, “i can assure you, this will never happen again. my life will be dedicated to you from here on forward.”

she raises her head to his, pausing only for a moment before crashing their lips together. it’s rough, as was their first kiss because tri'ama wasn’t expecting it, but the passion that they expel is almost overbearing. she’s still crying, but not out of betrayal anymore, but for the love she has for this man. for a moment, he hesitates, but allows her to do so, pressing back with the same amount of force, as she tangles her hands in his hair.

when they pull away, she’s breathing hard but still tangled in his embrace. “i deny your resignation request, malavai.”

he doesn’t look disappointed in the slightest, even giving her a soft smile that graces his usually hardened features. “i understand, tri'ama.” and she given yet another kiss that she can only describe as euphoric.

-

[negasonicimagines]

Candles and All that Other Perfect Bullshit

request: I’ve been too shy to ask but I’ve been wanting to ask for a long time bc I’m a thirsty little bitch, but do you still right smut??? If so, do you think you could write a fic where the reader loses their virginity to Ellie? Or maybe to both Ellie and Yukio, whichever you prefer. If you aren’t comfortable with it it’s okay! I love all of the fics you’ve written, you’re really talented! Ily, have a good day/night!

notes: this is gonna be losing your v-card to ellie! I can still do a Yukisonic one if there’s a demand for that, but most of y’all are here for the Ellie content (I assume) so I went with that! [F/S = Favorite Scent]

warnings: sex (duh)

You weren’t sure how to approach the subject. You knew she wasn’t a virgin, that she’d lost her v-card to Yukio last year, before Yukio graduated and went to college. They’d tried to make it work long-distance, but, luckily for you, it didn’t.

However, you were. Painfully so. You weren’t sure how she’d feel about it; therefore, you were unsure of how to talk to her about it. The two of you had been dating for months, and you knew you were ready, but… Something about it made you nervous. You felt ashamed of the fact that you hadn’t done it.

“Someone’s not having a good day,” the girl that most of your thoughts centered around remarks, sitting next to you at your usual lunch table.

“It’s nothing,” you grumble, not wanting her to push the subject. She looks miffed, but not hurt.

“With that tone? I doubt it’s nothing,” Ellie replies.

“I’m just worried about my friend,” you lie. “He’s been dating this guy for a while, and apparently his boyfriend isn’t a virgin, but he is. He’s ready and all, but he doesn’t know how to tell he- Him. Like, what is he supposed to do? Just say it? That’d be kind of embarrassing. I can’t imagine being in that situation, and it’s so frustrating because I have no clue how to help him.”

Ellie furrows her brows in thought, seemingly fooled. Thank god.

“That does sound rough,” she admits. “But, I would just suggest telling him. I mean, if he passes up the opportunity to introduce someone he loves to that kind of experience, he’s not worth it, y’know?”

“Yeah,” you agree, like you do know, even though you don’t. Her advice is solid, but you’re still nervous. “I gotta get to Chem early, honey. Love you.” You kiss her head, rubbing her back a bit before scurrying off.

When you arrive at your dorm after DND Club, you’re surprised to find the curtains drawn shut and little candles lit… Everywhere.

“What’s this?” No answer. You can’t see Ellie in the room at all, you realize. “Leaving these candles unattended is quite the fire hazard,” you remark.

“I’m quite the fire hazard,” Ellie remarks, coming out of the bathroom. “I drew you a bath. For your stress about… Your friend,” she says with a smile, and you realize you ratted yourself out earlier.

You sigh in relief, glad she isn’t mad, or uncomfortable, or…

“Babe, chill. I already knew. Did you forget we were best friends before we started dating, or something? That’s how you know I’m not a virgin in the first place. I love you, dummy.” She takes your hands into hers, intertwining your fingers. She presses a soft, slow kiss to your lips. “Go on, take as much time as you need.” she gestures towards the the bathroom with her head before letting go of your hands. You follow her instructions.

The bathroom is also adorned with tealights, and you can tell Ellie’s put thought into this. She must’ve been just as anxious about this as you, you realize. You can imagine her worrying about making you feel pressured, or intimidating you with experience, and you feel bad that you hadn’t addressed it sooner.

You close the door behind you, and upon noticing she’s laid out a nice set of lingerie and a matching robe for you, you blush before removing your clothing. She was so thoughtful, not that she’d let that on to anyone but you. You slide into the bath. It’s the perfect temperature, and it smells like F/S. You clean and groom as you please, finding that the warmth of the water soothes you like Ellie’s body heat does.

At the thought of your girlfriend, you realize that you shouldn’t take too long, no matter what she said. You enjoy the bubbles and the aromatherapy a bit longer before draining the bath and drying off. You put on the clothes she provided for you. The underwear set was cute, but definitely something you’d never thought you would look good in before now. Realizing that you’re going to be wearing this in front of someone, you squeak, quickly wrapping the skimpy robe it came with around yourself.

Before slowly opening the door, you blow out the candles, not wanting to leave them ablaze and alone indefinitely.

You creep out into the room, and Ellie sits on the bed, still clothed.

“You’re really cute,” she tells you, and you wrap your arms tighter around yourself. “It’s not too much, is it? I just wanted to eliminate the pressure of picking out an outfit… I’ve been thinking about this awhile, I just didn’t know how to bring it up.”

“You thought of everything,” you reply, stunned.

“Well, I figured you deserved candles and all that other perfect bullshit. Most people think that kind of thing is overrated… But I’m a fan of fire and making you happy.”

“I like fire and making you happy, too,” you agree, stepping a little closer to the bed.

“Don’t worry. We can go as slow or as fast as you want, and obviously, all you have to say is stop and it stops and I’m gonna give you as much care as you want either way, and we can talk about it, and-”

“Ellie,” you cut her off, smiling. “I know.”

“Good. Come here, then,” she says, a bit of a cocky tone to her voice. You get on the bed, crawling over to her, and she captures your lips with hers, letting you rest on the bed. She holds your face in her hands, a mix of slow and fast kisses being exchanged between the two of you.

Her kisses make their way to your neck, and you writhe underneath her, a few breathy moans escaping from your lips in enjoyment.

“Yeah, like that,” Ellie praises. “You’d drive me fucking crazy when we made out before this, moaning like that. It’s why I’d always shower right after,” she confesses, hands on your waist. She tugs at the tie of your silky robe. “Could I?”

“Mmhmm,” you allow, blushing deeply. Did you really turn her on that much? She lowers herself a bit and unties the loose knot you’d made.

“It looks even better than I thought it would,” she mutters, biting her lip absentmindedly before looking up at you. Christ. “Doing okay?”

You nod, and she proceeds to kiss your collarbones, upper chest, and breasts. You whimper as she leaves hickies, hips rocking a bit.

“Could I take off-?”

“Yes,” you interrupt, and she smirks, unhooking the undergarment. Ellie has you sit up so she can remove both the bra and the robe. She stares at you for a moment, and you’re concerned you’ve let her down.

“You’re perfect,” Ellie breathes. “I mean, I already knew that you were, but you’re, like… Perfect perfect.”

“Jeez, thanks,” you thank her, flustered by her adoring words.

“I love you,” she tells you, kissing you again, fiercer than ever.

“I love you too,” you reply, and she lowers herself back down to your chest, experimenting with it. She tries different combinations of her hands and her mouth, and the motions she makes with them, eventually repeating the ones that get the strongest reactions from you. “Fuck, Ellie, I- That- Ah…”

“I know, baby,” she responds, continuing to massage one while she tongues the other, rolling the bud around on her tongue.

“I’m r-ready, for… For…”

“More?” she offers.

“Y-yeah, that…”

“Finally, you’re able to say it,” Ellie jokes before she kisses down your body, making a few comments of admiration and lust before sliding down your underwear.

She runs her tongue along your slit, and when you jolt at her tongue finding your clit, she grabs onto your hips tightly, making you gasp in pleasure.

“You like it when I…?”

She squeezes your hips and you whine: “Yeah, yeah, please.”

Ellie just smiles, going back to tentatively eating you out and exploring which places you like best before ultimately focusing on your clit. She keeps a firm, bruising grip on your hips as she does this.

“Ellie, oh my god,” you moan, legs thrashing on either side of her. “Please, fuck, don’t stop… I think I’m gonna- Can I please-?”

“Mmhmm,” she tells you, and you’re eventually able to release all that pent-up energy. “Yum. You don’t have to ask next time, unless you’re into that.”

You blush, causing Ellie to chuckle.

“So, what should I do to you?” You wonder, and it’s her turn to blush.

“I- I mean, you don’t have to do anything, unless you want to.”

“I do,” you tell her.

“Well, I mean, starting with the basics and fingering me might be a good idea,” Ellie suggests. She hadn’t really thought out this portion of the event.

“Okay. Do you want me to undress you?” you offer, smiling a bit and putting yourself on top of her. You were a lot more comfortable now.

“Uh, sure,” Ellie replies.

“Gonna need to be a little more enthusiastic about that, babe,” you request, and she smiles appreciatively.

“Yeah, I do.”

You kiss her, still letting her take the emotional lead while you take action. Next, you kiss her neck gently, and she sighs happily, running her fingers through your hair. It’s soothing, and you proceed to smooch different areas of her body before unbuttoning her flannel slowly and continuing to slowly, leisurely kiss her soft, pale flesh. Ellie’s bra opens at the front, and you look to her for reassurance before fooling with the black clasp. You didn’t have one like this. You laugh a little.

“Help me?” you ask, and she shows you how it works in the process of undoing the clasp, and you beam, moving your lips to suck on one nipple, rubbing the other with your thumb. You do so tentatively, but she shifts under you.

“D-don’t stop,” Ellie gives trembling instruction, muted moans leaving her mouth as you obey her. Her fingers thread themselves though your hair, and lower one of your hands, rubbing her through her pants.

At no sign of denial, you unbutton them and unzip them, next touching her through her underwear. After that, you slip your hand under her waistband, and the party really gets started. You rub her without focus for a bit before circling her clit in the way you liked to do yourself. Confident she’s wet enough, you slide two fingers in and curl, hard, still maintaining your ministrations on her breasts.

“F-Fuck!” She cries out, pulling your hair. You nip at her nipple in surprise, and she bucks into your hand as you continue curling your fingers, enjoying the reaction you get from her. She slides her hands from your hair to your unclothed back, pawing at it as she continues to whine and whimper. You slide your fingers out of her, rubbing at her clit, and alternate between finger-fucking her and speedily stroking her clit. “Y/N, oh god, I’m gonna- I’m gonna fucking-”

Ellie moans, drenching your fingers with her orgasm. You slip them out of her underwear and taste it. As you slide them in and out of your mouth, you maintain eye contact with the panting girl.

“Sure you’re a first-timer?” she wonders, astounded.

You just smile, blushing a bit before she pulls you into her arms. “You did so good,” she praises you. “I love you so much.”

“I love you so much, too,” you reply. “We should really blow out all these candles.”

“We should,” she replies, and you both partially redress before blowing out all the candles and opening the curtains. It’s nearly dusk, and the golden light envelops you both. She holds you in her arms as you two watch the courtyard outside, and you wonder how you could’ve ever been worried about her not accepting you.

[purecamp]

Now I Just Made It; I Found You At Last

not submitting this to AQ bc it’s not like.... relevant but anyway have this

Justin stared blankly at the screen in front of him, willing the little clock on the right hand corner to tick by just a little faster. The week had been long, gruelling - a new project was in the planning stages and as the most qualified architect for the job, Justin was under pressure to deliver above and beyond his usual high standard. Of course, it was enjoyable work, and it paid well, but he was finding himself feeling… well, stagnant. He needed a change of scenery, a breath of fresh air.

New York wasn’t a source of fresh air, per se. It was the world of business, the world he had thrown himself into with reckless abandon and found himself all the better for it. At the age of thirty eight, he found himself in a spacious apartment, not quite a penthouse but near enough, and enough spare expenses to dote on himself any luxuries he desired.

It was a busy, bustling, comfortable life. Affordable luxuries, a good job, a nice home.

Admittedly it wasn’t the life Justin had expected to find himself in. He had been sure, when he was young, that at this point in his life he would be married, perhaps with a few children. Luxuries meant little to him - he preferred simplicity and experiences over the expensive pressed suits and cufflinks that mattered so much to the people around him. In a way, he felt like a marionette playing a part made for someone else. He had tailored his life this way, and was finally starting to feel like he had outgrown the role.

A change was needed, but the clock wasn’t ticking fast enough.

“Mr Honard? Sir? Your coffee.”

The timid intern nudged the door open with her foot, smiling shyly as she placed the cup onto the desk. A few moments passed, and she didn’t leave.

“Miss Michaels, is there something I can do for you?” Justin asked her, as politely as he could manage. The girl couldn’t have been any older than eighteen, and he still remembered the days of feeling like a useless asset to a company much bigger than him. Nowadays he was the big fish, but still held as much respect as possible for the new small fry.

“Is it true that this next deal could be multi-million dollars? The girls were talking and I…” She paused. “I’d love to be that good some day.”

He smiled. “Thank you, Miss Michaels. It is true, yes. I guess this weekend won’t be a weekend for me, so I can try and get all this planning done in time for the meeting on Monday.” Justin sighed, steeling himself for the remaining five minutes of his day. “Still, work is work.”

Miss Michaels - Kameron, Justin believed her name was - excused herself, leaving him to shut down his laptop and sink into the leather chair, his eyes closing against his will. A multi-million dollar deal lay in front of him, and would only take a weekend of precise work to consolidate. Why, then, did he feel so stale? Where was the passion? Why did he feel like he was just running in circles, getting nowhere?

His yellow cab was already waiting after his swift exit from the office, still unsure as to whether he wanted to take up the generous offer that resided in his emails, waiting to be picked up. He would be a fool not to do it, and he knew it well. But that didn’t stop the nagging feeling that something in his life needed replacing, or uprooting. He was stuck.

It was, unsurprisingly enough, a slight deviation from his usual habits that led to the chain events that would end that stagnant, stuck-in-the-mud emptiness from Justin’s life once and for all.

His first action upon hearing the telltale ‘ding!’ of the lift to his apartment was to check his mailbox. Normally, he’d wait and open everything on Monday; nothing of any urgency arrived through the mail, and it was usually work-related documents that he would prefer to handle at work, or useless promotions and menus from establishments he would never eat from.

But the day had left him feeling sullen and somewhat bored, and he subconsciously begged for something that would let him escape for a while. Maybe a brochure for a slightly discounted holiday would be stuffed within the bank statements and tax filings, and he could use that as an excuse for some sort of holiday. Croatia had been nice, as had Egypt.

He pulled the various envelopes out and unlocked the apartment, throwing himself onto the sofa to sift through them all.

Bank statement, bank statement, last month’s tax returns, a notice from the last build, an automated thank you letter from two months ago… and a blue envelope.

Hmm. A small stamp decorated the corner of the envelope, depicting a classically beautiful Aphrodite, rising in her nude glory from the depths of the ocean. In the middle, in black ink, unfamiliar handwriting had scrawled Justin Honard.

Curious but not yet hopeful enough to pin any excitement onto the contents of the envelope, he pulled out the paper inside. It was neatly folded in half, concealing the contents, although judging by its size, it seemed unlikely that it was a letter. Perhaps an invitation to a party of some kind, or a charity gala.

It is with sheer delight that this happy couple announces their engagement!

A date was printed underneath, and the name of a hotel that Justin didn’t recognise. Glancing up, he didn’t recognise the names of the bride or groom either - only first names were provided, under the assumption that whoever was receiving the invitation clearly knew the couple well enough to be certain of whose wedding they were going to be attending.

Briefly, he wondered if the invitation had come to him by mistake. Yet clear as day, his name was written on the envelope, and…

Justin’s heart skipped a beat. Beneath the unfamiliar hotel, a much more familiar location was listed, somewhere he knew he would never be able to return to in good conscience.

The island.

He held his breath. There was no way he could return, not a chance in Hell. God, he hadn’t thought about her in so long…

Well, that was a lie. She crossed his mind at the most inane of times, not always, but often enough that her presence remained always in the back of his mind, reminding him of the things he’d done. Her laughter still echoed in his ears, her tears still haunted his dreams. But he hadn’t properly relived that one awful, fateful day in decades. How could he go back there - her home - knowing how much he had hurt her?

Then his eyes darted down to the very bottom of the invitation, and he stopped breathing altogether.

Please come. -Sharon

She… She…

It made no sense.

Sharon hated him. She had made that clear.

It had been twenty years…

But no. He knew that girl - that woman. Their love affair may have been brief, but Justin knew more about her than he knew about the world around him, the career he had chosen, the life he had perfected. He knew that she smelt like vanilla and sea-salt and makeup. He knew that she liked short skirts and tight pleather and simple cotton sheets against her skin. He knew that her heart and soul were comprised of hellish fire, and for better or for worse, she felt every emotion that struck her with the intensity of a thousand lovers.

Sharon wasn’t a fool, he knew that. She would never carelessly forgive him for ruining her.

It made no sense. This was some cruel joke, a trick played by a god to punish him for daring to try and break free from his own life’s restraints. And yet… why had he sprung to his feet? Why were the rest of letters discarded on the floor, with only this invitation clutched between his trembling fingers? Why was he already heading towards the bedroom to pack his things?

Damn it all. Sharon hadn’t been part of his life for two long decades and yet she was still able to undo him at his very core and unravel everything he had built without her. What did any of it mean, anyway? His illustrious career and expensive apartment in a city he didn’t truly love - why did any of that matter? He had been searching desperately for any kind of whim that would allow him to escape once and for all.

Love him or hate him, Sharon’s name was signed at the bottom of the invite, and it took Justin mere minutes to fill his suitcase with clothing. Simple clothing - the kind one would wear to fall in love on a magical Greek island, rather than seal business deals in the industrial side of New York City. Anything else could be found on the way. Time, all of a sudden, seemed to be of the essence. Twenty years melted into nothing.

He dashed out of the door in disarray, his suitcase packed, his top-three shirt buttons undone and his hair mussed from raking his hands through it. A last-minute flight was booked to Athens and Justin knew that from array of taxicabs he could see from his window that making his way to the airport would be no trouble at all.

And somehow, just like that, Sharon Needles turned his whole life upside down once again, a whole twenty years after she’d done it the first time.

-

“Are you fucking kidding! Is this a joke? Is this some cosmic fucking joke?”

The man a few feet away from Justin uttered his inner sentiments perfectly as he gazed after the small red dot on the horizon.

“Hello? Fucking ferry? Come back!”

He sighed. “I need to get to that fucking island. This is fucked.”

Justin nodded in agreement. “Yeah. And the next ferry-”

“Tuesday. Bad tide or some shit like that. I can’t wait that long!” The other man complained. “I have a wedding!”

Justin’s ears pricked. “Trixie and Brian?”

“You know them?”

“No.” Justin answered truthfully. “I have an invite… I know someone on the island.”

That was as much detail as he felt comfortable providing to this total stranger. After all, how would he even begin to explain his predicament? Hi, stranger. I emailed the multi-million dollar deal company with a short email explaining that I am unavailable, turned down the biggest job of my career for a chance that I might see a girl whose heart I broke twenty years ago, and ten hours later I’m stood on a dock at the edge of mainland Greece next to you, having missed the only ferry that will take me to her, and somehow a wedding is involved in this entire convoluted mess of a story.

The other man shrugged. “Same. I’m Willam.”

“Justin.”

Willam’s eyes narrowed slightly, as if he recognised the name, but he shrugged a second time and held out his hand to shake it. Two heads were better than one, and somehow they needed to find a way across a large expanse of ocean to one of the most remote islands he had ever been to.

God, he’d missed that little pocket of paradise.

“Okay, maybe we can…” Willam trailed off. “Nope, I got nothing. Like, I have a boat, but it’s on the island and that’s not fucking useful right now. I need it here.”

“A boat? I have a boat!” A third voice chimed in. The owner of said voice smiled rakishly, gesturing to what looked like a barely seaworthy vessel bobbing in the waves a few feet away from them. Both Justin and Willam grimaced at it. “Uh-”

“Kidding!” He grinned, and pointed to a much larger boat, named The Carey. “She’s served me well, this one has. Anyway, you two gentlemen look like you need a ride and I’m nothing if not a generous Samaritan.”

Call him superstitious, it felt like a sign. The man introduced himself as Jaremi, and soon enough they were loading their things onto his boat, preparing to sail across to the island he’d missed so much. It had to be fate, for everything to align so perfectly. Someone up there was making sure, one way or another, that he would make it to this island. He was sure, tucked in his pocket, the little Aphrodite stamp was winking at him. This was her doing.

“So you’re Jaremi Carey? That guy who writes about weird places?” Willam interrogated him, the wind whipping his blonde hair into his face. Justin had taken a liking to Willam in the hour that he’d known him, and was warming to Jaremi too. He spoke little as the other two chatted away, keeping his eyes fixed on the horizon for any evidence that the island he had been dreaming of hadn’t been purely fictitious.

It seemed like one of those serendipitous moments in life where a common purpose united three total strangers. Jaremi, too, had an invitation to the wedding, and was equally as cagey about his association with the bride or groom. A more rational Justin would think on it, trying to conjure reasons for such a strange link between them, but he couldn’t.

Not once had he been able to think clearly when Sharon was around. She was all-consuming, her love encompassing him in ways he never knew love could. She had been self-professed innocent when he met her, but it was truly him who had been naive to what love could do to a man. In a matter of weeks he was completely changed, enthralled with this laughing goddess and her deep blue eyes. Her picture was as fresh in his mind as it had been twenty years ago.

Perhaps stupidly, he had dug out those photos of her and packed them into his suitcase, just to remind himself, selfishly, that she had loved him once. He didn’t deserve an ounce of her heart, not anymore, but it was a comfort to him knowing that, for a short time, she had loved him with everything she had. She didn’t need to know that his love for her had never died down, anyway. Justin was sure she was now perfectly happy with the man of her dreams.

But maybe…?

No. Justin stopped the fluttering hope in his chest as soon as it blossomed. She had asked him to come to the wedding, but that didn’t mean she had spent twenty years pining for his return. He was being ridiculous; a woman like Sharon would never allow herself to sink so low. She was strong, smart, resilient - and somebody as intoxicating as her would definitely have been treated right by now.

Whatever the situation, Justin told himself he didn’t care. He would get to see her again, and that was reward enough.

-

Oh my god, it was Sharon.

It wasn’t Sharon, but it might well have been. She was every bit Sharon, from head-to-toe she was his ex-lover, radiant and beautiful at no more than twenty years old. Standing before them, she regarded them with sparkling eyes and a nervous smile.

“Perhaps this young lady will be able to help us… Hello there! We three strangers have been invited to a wedding by Sharon, you wouldn’t happen to know anything about what’s going on, would you? I’m Jaremi.” He offered his hand for the young girl to shake, which she accepted.

When she spoke, her voice was breathless and yet - still so similar to hers. Sweeter, and higher, Justin noted. Sharon’s had more of a rasp to it, a husk that he had never been able to forget. Twenty years on, and the exact tone of her voice hadn’t escaped the depths of his memory.

“Yes, yes… Yes, we’re expecting you. You two must be Justin and Willam.”

Willam nodded and introduced himself, letting Justin go last. As each of them spoke, the young girl eyed them with a peculiar look. It seemed innocent and curious enough, but it was almost as if she was searching for something. After a few moments, she seemed to shake out of her trance and tucked a lock of her hair - golden blonde, like Sharon’s - behind her ear.

“Come with me, we have rooms for you. Well… one room. We’re a little tied up for space at the moment, with this wedding that’s happening.”

She led them, but she needn’t have bothered. Justin still remembered every step of the way, every winding path that would eventually lead to the taverna, every secret cave and cove perfect for a romantic evening or - as he tried not to dwell on for too long - a passionate embrace. It was only when they reached what used to be a rocky hill and an old wooden shack that things were new to him. The aforementioned hotel stood before them, shining white in the Greek sunshine.

She did it, Justin thought to himself, knowing he had no right to be proud and yet filled with pride all the same. She achieved her dream.

“We’ll, uh, have to go round the back of everything.” The girl told them, smiling sweetly as she took them into the lower courtyard. Her eyes seemed to be darting back and forth. “Everything’s a little hectic, so it’s easier that way.”

“Seems fair. Is Sharon around?” Justin spoke up.

God. Even saying her name was like a breath of fresh air away from his old life. It was as if at once, the stress and mundanity of his regular life dissipated. Her name on his lips had more power than he knew what to do with.

“Not at the moment, but I’m sure she will be.” She replied after a moment’s hesitation, steering them through alleys and shortcuts and clambering over boxes of hay and bottles and fresh produce. It seemed like a strange way to get to a hotel room, granted, but the three had decided unanimously not to argue with the girl. Clearly, she knew the hotel better than they did.

Maybe five or so minutes later, they arrived. All three began to settle their bags onto one of the three beds, as the girl dusted herself off to look a little more presentable for their official introduction. It had been a little bit of an arduous journey, given the morning heat, and she looked a little flustered as she smiled apologetically at them.

“Sorry if this seemed a little rushed… I’m Trixie.”

Ah. So this was the girl from the invite.

“You’re the girl getting married?”

Trixie’s face split into a beam, and she lifted her hand to reveal the silver ring on her finger. Justin’s vision tunnelled - that smile was one he had never been able to forget, practically pasted onto someone else’s face. He had known from the moment he saw her, but that smile seemed to confirm everything for him. Unknown feelings - not pleasant, but not unpleasant - bubbled in his stomach. She was talking, but Justin couldn’t understand a word of it. She… She…

“You’re Sharon’s daughter.”

Sharon had a daughter. Sharon, the love of his life, immortalised in his memory at the tender age of seventeen, had a daughter. This was undoubtedly her, stood before him. Proof that Sharon had managed to move on with her life after they had fallen apart. She had something truly marvellous to show for it.

Seemingly caught unawares, Trixie just nodded helplessly.

“I knew you looked familiar.” Justin found himself unable to stop, his mind now flooded with thoughts of her. “God, I bet she hasn’t aged a day.”

Seeing Trixie was jarring. He knew Sharon would be different now, especially given how much he had changed in their years apart, but meeting her daughter who was nothing if not the exact image of Sharon in her youth had fucked with his head. He somehow knew that Sharon would be even more beautiful than she had been before, a feat he had long thought impossible.

“I know she’s busy, but can I see her? I want to thank her for this invite-”

“No!” Trixie rushed out, her expression filling with fear. It was yet another look that Justin knew all too well; he had seen it on her mom, way back when her biggest worry was her own mother’s wrath. “I… shit. Mom didn’t send the invitations to you, I did. She doesn’t know you’re here.”

And just like that, Justin’s euphoria shattered.

“Listen.” She whispered, drawing closer. “She’s been so stressed constantly about my wedding, so I felt bad and invited you guys to cheer her up. She talks about her friends from the past all the time, I thought she’d like it.”

Friends. Friends didn’t even begin to cover what they had. Nor indeed what they had left behind. Justin was definitely something of an enemy, the way he’d broken her heart. He shouldn’t have come at all.

Trixie took a deep breath and continued. “Just… if she sees you, don’t tell her you’re here for my wedding. Make something up, a happy coincidence that you’re here. Please. She’ll freak out at having unexpected guests, I just know it, but once she gets past the stress she’ll be so happy.”

Justin sighed heavily. “I shouldn’t be here, I should go. Trixie, your mom hates me.”

Hate, too, felt like a massive understatement. He had been told in no uncertain terms exactly what she thought of his scumbag, lying self, and he had deserved every second of it. The pain it caused him bore no weight against everything that he had done to her, and he wondered if Trixie actually knew the truth about him. Surely, she wouldn’t be so kind if she knew how he had treated her mom.

“Maybe she did, twenty years ago.” Trixie countered, with that obstinate look he knew so well. “No one can hold a grudge, or any kind of feeling, for that long. You can’t just go! I want you at my wedding, all of you!”

Willam and Jaremi, slowly, began to laugh at the absurdity of the situation. Though his heart felt heavy, Justin cracked a smile as Trixie’s intent dawned on him. Whatever she was planning remained a mystery, but it was clear she had gleaned her persuasive skills from her mom.

Jaremi took his hat off and grinned. “You’re a firecracker, like your mom. He’ll stay, won’t you Justin?”

He sighed. “I suppose I have to. Seems like your mom’s taught you all her old tricks. There’s no way of getting out of this, is there?”

Trixie beamed, clearly relieved. “Nope! Remember what I said - lie, lie, and lie again. She can’t know I invited you, or that you’re here for the wedding. She’ll go insane.”

She paused. “And, uh, trust me when I say insane. She’s a little crazy right now, handling all this on her own.”

God, what a fucking superstar. She’s achieved so many great things.

“I need to get going…” Trixie murmured, her expression regretful. “Thank you so much for accepting those invites.”

Justin snorted, but there was no malice in it. It felt more like resignation - one way or another, he was going to have to stay here, all because Sharon’s daughter had convinced him. “It was always impossible to say no to your mother. Twenty years, and nothing’s changed.”

[jaggedwolf]

For the meme! The tscosi hogwarts au ficlet. I think the entirety is around 500 words.

You are probably correct, haha. The ficlet is here

“Looks like your admirer’s here for the show again,” said Brian. The only indication of a direction was a quick dart of his eyes in the direction of the broom shed at the opposite side of the field. Then he went back to his Ancient Runes reading like he hadn’t said anything at all. He was only a fourth-year and he studied like it was him who had O.W.L.S to take this year. Well, only if it was Ancient Runes.

In which I forgive myself for the recurring awkward sentence structures/flows that happen with ficlets, because the whole point is that I write them with little thought and for fun. Also, will find a way to translate Brian being a linguist into any universe. 

Sana rolled her eyes. She ran her wand over her broom, finishing up the last layer of the new enchantment. “Not an admirer. Honestly, she’s probably been showing up to see Krejjh make another attempt at the Wronksi Feint.“

See: adapting Sana tinkering with her flying device. And my fervent desire to see Sana and Krejjh be adrenaline junkies together, because it’d be so good.

“I’m telling you Captain Tripathi, this time’s the charm.” Krejjh grinned, already floating in the air on their own broom. “And then we’re gonna crush you Hufflepuffs this year.”

Sana raised her eyebrows. “As long as our Seeker doesn’t literally get crushed. Though, honestly, he should know better by now than to follow you into a dive like that.”

Krejjh and Sana would be friendly opponent captains and you can’t convince me otherwise - they are good sports! I think Krejjh in this AU only addresses Sana as “Captain” when it’s fun trash talking time.

The Gryffindor team had Krejjh, sure, but no other stand-out players. And as great a Seeker they were, Sana had a feeling that Krejjh mostly thought the responsibilities that came with the Captain title were 1. Be really good at Quidditch 2. Schedule practices. So, Sana wasn’t too worried about Gryffindor this year. She swung a leg over her own broom, ready to take off. 

I imagine having Krejjh as your sportsball team captain is very fun and inspiring and exhilarating! But not particularly consistent! (In Krejjh’s defense - I also picture this being their first year as captain. Sana, while also a fifth-year, has already had a year under her belt, because she’s just Like That and the ‘puffs recognize a good thing when they see it.) 

Sana is very ready to win this year :)

“Also, she hasn’t been watching Krejjh at any of these practices. Mostly you.” Brian said out of nowhere.Krejjh’s grin grew wider. “Jeeter. Were you concerned I had an admirer?”“Wha-no,” Brian sputtered. “Sometimes I finish the work I bring with me before you guys are done, so I started trying to figure out why a third-year would skip Hogsmeade weekends to watch you two.”

Are these two already dating in this ficlet??? They don’t know either, pal. I just like the idea of Brian doing his homework in the stands while Sana and Krejjh practice (in addition to their regular house practices, mind you). Brian’s also bad at letting inconsistencies lie. 

“That is a good point about the weekends.” asked Sana, glancing over at the broom shed. It stood far enough away that sound didn’t carry, but close enough that Sana could spy the corner of a red-edged robe peeking out from behind one of its walls. “Krejjh. She is in your house. Any ideas?”

As may be very obvious, I went with everyone’s primary houses from my sorting post. 

“Sorry, fellas, I’ve only really passed by her at meals and the common room.” Krejjh shrugged, now slowly looping around Brian and Sana on their broom.

Krejjh in any universe: mmm jock brain flying good (stole this phrasing from @shrimpeggroll​). They’re not really paying attention to random tiny third-years. (Sana, however, you may note, already knows Arkady’s name.)

“Maybe she wants to talk to a prefect? I haven’t heard great things about the Gryffindor ones this year,” Brian ventured.

Sana frowned at him, and then sighed knowingly. “Violet?”“Yeah,” he said uneasily. “I think she’s okay now, though? Even if the prefects weren’t much use.”She hadn’t seen Brian’s new third-year shadow recently, so that was good news. An implied subplot of lonely Muggle-born Violet possibly getting hassled by some Gryffs while the Gryff prefects didn’t do much. It’s resolved, so she isn’t constantly trailing Brian anymore. Also, c’mon, isn’t the image of fourth-year Brian taking third-year Violet under his wing the cutest - bet those nerds spend a lot of time the library. 

“It’s going to get dark soon.” Krejjh had transitioned from horizontal loops to vertical ones, their expression looking like that of the world’s most impatient child.

“Sorry, let’s get going.” Sana shot up into the air without a beat. The wind rushing past her face, the feel of the new charms she added, the familiar quick gain in altitude were all the only things on her mind. Nothing about the team or O.W.L.S. She’d missed this. She leveled out at the top of the hooped goal posts, waiting for Krejjh to catch up so they could do their usual race. Sana took in the view. Brian was watching Krejjh’s ascent into the sky with rapt attention, as always. More and more of the red-edged robes behind the broom shed creeped out till Arkady herself was leaning on the front of the shed. Couldn’t make out much of an expression from this angle and altitude.

These two just like flying :D 

Sana was midway through going over her knowledge on the Patel family when her broom jerked. And then jerked again, and again. Sana gripped tightly with one hand as she went anything that could have gone wrong with how the new enchantment interacted with the broom’s magic, simultaneously reaching for the wand within her sleeve. Always good to have a quick way to undo things.The wand slid into her hand and then just as quickly out of it, latching itself to the broom of it’s own accord. What? The broom stopped a jerking for a brief moment and Sana tried to scrape the wand off of it as well as guide the broom down. Neither attempt seemed to do anything.The broom dove.

I fully confess action/description is the weakest aspect of my writing, haha. And yeah, Sana’s aware of the risks of her messing with the magic a broom already has, but she’s gonna do that anyway.

She held calm even as the bright green of the field rapidly came closer, going over everything she knew about the field’s cushioning charms and crash landings.Then the broom stopped so suddenly she lost her grip, flying head over heels off of it. She was still really high off the ground. Not good. Wind rushed past her as she fell, and out of the corner of her eye she could see Krejjh changing course to fly towards her, but Sana had a feeling even Krejjh couldn’t close this gap.

Sana: realistic and not prone to panic even as she’s about to crash into the ground. 

“Arresto Momentum!” yelled a voice she didn’t recognize, and suddenly instead of plummeting she was floating downwards instead. Sana swallowed a gulp.

Way to save the day, kid. (Who again, you might note, Sana has never heard, thought she knows of her family.)

Arkady wasn’t by the broom shed anymore, instead she was right on the field, arm outstretched and wand pointed right at Sana. Arkady was breathing heavily, and also…scowling? At Krejjh? Who had finally reached Sana and flew next to her as she slowly came to a stop on the ground.Sana turned to Arkady. “Oka-”“I thought Gryffindors were supposed to be all ‘honorable’ and ‘chivalrous’, what’s so honorable about hexing someone’s broom to hurt them?” interrupted Arkady, shifting her wand from Sana to Krejjh, her oversized robes swinging a little as she did.

Arkady hates a hypocrite, even more so as a kid. (Has perhaps witnessed some of the Gryffs-behaving-badly nonsense that Violet dealt with? Will latch on to suspicion at the clearest potential suspect?) Also has hand-me-down robes bc the idea of the Patels as a scrappier version of the Weasleys in this AU makes me cackle with glee. 

“What? Sana tries out new enchantments all the time, and sometimes they go a bit wonky. I don’t even know how you hex a broom,” said Krejjh, looking confused.“Krejjh wouldn’t hex my broom,” Sana leveled a look at Arkady, wondering what on earth she had to do with anything, and also what level of house baggage they were dealing with. “But something did grab my wand away from me, which is making me thinking that a side-effect of my enchantment isn’t the right answer here.”Brian ran up to them, panting. “Is…everyone…okay?”

Sana’s firm but honest about her assessment of the situation. Poor Brian, he just had a gazillion different heart attacks at witnessing all of that happen in the sky, realizing too late to do anything himself.

Arkady paid no notice to him, still pointing her wand at Krejjh. “I’m not saying you did it. That’d be stupid. Having the Captain do it, even if you have regular access to her broom since you hang out. I’m saying you got your teammates to.”A rare flash of anger crossed Krejjh’s face. “I wouldn’t-”“I heard them talking about sabotaging the Hufflepuff captain, I followed them, and I saw them break into the broom shed.” Arkady’s scowl deepened.

What a tiny distrustful spy! Weirdly effective! (Krejjh does not appreciate the suggestion that they would hurt Sana. Also, they play fair, how else can glorious victory be an accurate assessment of one’s skill and talent?) 

“Dude,” said Brian, “that’s not really proof Krejjh told them to do anything.”Arkady deflated a little. “You saw all that, and decided stalking Sana and Krejjh’s practices was the best plan?” continued Brian.Arkady dropped her wand arm, muttering something indecipherable.

Brian’s here to point out Arkady’s ridiculousness. Arkady talked over her plan with absolutely no one. Just went full speed “Make sure unsuspecting Hufflepuff captain doesn’t get hurt”.

“What?” asked Sana.“I didn’t have any proof,” grumbled Arkady, crossing her arms. “I didn’t know how to figure out what they did or undo it, and I figured it’d make sense for them to activate the charm in one of these sessions instead of the Hufflepuff team practice because there’d be higher chance of you getting injured with only one other flier.”Brian’s jaw dropped. “Okay, I know she saved your life, but I’m a little scared of this third-year now.”

I don’t know that I’m a fan of this Brian line anymore - I just wanted to communicate how truly thrown by this level of quidditch conspiracy and paranoia he was.

Arkady glared at him. Sana shook her head, and smiled at Arkady. “So, this is a mess. For the record, Arkady, you could have told me.”Arkady squinted. “Why would you have believed me?” “Why wouldn’t I have?”Arkady kept squinting at her, saying nothing.

Sana is pretty impressed. Arkady has no words for Sana-patented honesty and openness XD.

“Pals, I don’t know about you, but I am starving!” said Krejjh. “What do you say we grab some food from the kitchens, and then our new friend and I can discuss who exactly I need to have a little Captain-y chat with?”“Sounds good to me,” said Sana.“I’m in,” said Brian.They turned to Arkady, whose arms were still crossed and expression was still suspicious. “I am kind of hungry.”

Yay friendship and conspiracy-cracking and food! And uh, Hufflepuff Prefect and Captain Sana Tripathi may have gained a new tiny shadow. It’s fun to think about an AU where Arkady being the last to join the gang.

Also fun to think about - Krejjh looking at Brian-Violet and Sana-Arkady, and going: when do I get a underclassmen trailing me when is it my turn. (Somewhere, in the Slytherin dungeon, second-year RJ sneezes.)

Finally, I like the idea of Sana’s prefect partner being Park. What a pair, y’know? Golden girl Sana alongside Park who is…Very Tired. 

[medievalcat]

ok. I finished Children of God (sequel to The Sparrow), and while I was able to follow it better than when I first read it (I think I was really distracted a few years ago, and had trouble focusing).....I didn’t like it as much as the first one, which I’m aware isn’t an unpopular opinion, even though I didn’t hate all of it. Here are my thoughts on why it didnt work imo and what I did like about it.

The Sparrow would naturally be a hard act to follow, and I get that sometimes sequels do different things than the first installations. book one is about Emilio and book two is about Rakhat. Okay. I think there’s a lot of interesting material that could have been made of Emilio, John, and all the new guys visiting Rakhat years after the first expedition. It’s what the author did- and, really, this was present in the first book as well, and one of the first book’s issues, but here it’s really one of the main points of the story and far more prominent than ever before- that didn’t succeed. It’s the story of Rakhat....but given how Rakhat is written, maybe it shouldnt have been. This book honestly ranged from “enjoyable” to “disappointing” to “implicitly or explicitly expressing horrible views”.

It’s one thing to make an oppression storyline in a fantasy setting- FMA for example does this. But in that, the victims are humans. In this, not only does the story do an oppression narrative about fantasy creatures, which is already a very difficult thing to pull off, she repeatedly draws comparisons between nonhuman aliens and things like the Holocaust and genocide and oppression of Native Americans. She even has her one native character draw this comparison and *stay behind on another planet instead of going to earth* for some “reservation” plotline at the end.  This is a good example of why when we criticize media sometimes we have to focus specifically on the writers who choose to make these events happen, who choose to write certain stories and who choose to frame them in certain ways. I’m kind of glad this book doesn’t have a fandom, really, because tumblr types would focus on which aliens’ side is “right” and not on the fact that the author chose to write some fantasy creature oppression story with incoherent imperialism commentary while trivializing real genocides. I remember a really uncomfortable paragraph in the first one that implied the Ottoman Empire was some kind of safe haven for all ethnic/religious groups as well as a line (keep in mind these were written in the 90s) about how Bosnia is violent because of ............ “blood feuds”. Many people have said this story is weak because it focused on these new alien characters and the Rakhat storyline so much. This, for me, is the main reason why that storyline was so weak.

One thing I liked was some of the new characters. I liked Danny and Joseba and Nico and Sean and Gina and Pope Gelasius. I think this book kind of did a “later season of Vikings” so that there were suddenly all these new people but few of them got good development. So that was a weakness but I didn’t mind many of the characters in and of themselves and enjoyed these new additions. Sure they weren’t like the people in the first book but that’s okay. They added new perspectives. Danny had a lot of interesting stuff about forgiveness that I liked. I also liked initially how Sofia was revealed to be alive but....she was shafted. We barely see her in favor of her badly offensively written written son (I know this was written 20 years ago but. the way he and his disability are portrayed as like...literally “alien” even though ths is supposed to be a “positive”.... is honestly....why  the living fuck did she do this....) and Supaari’s daughter who he CONCEIVED FROM RAPE and we’re just supposed to be ok with that bc the author very conveniently wrote the victim to be as unsympathetic as possible and because “uwu miracle of life!! yay children!” I’m supposed to buy that Sofia, a child trafficking survivor, is allies and friends with a man who not only is a rapist but sold a person she loved into sex slavery.......after the narrative called to attention how similar Sofia and Emilio’s experiences were, and the first book was an imperfect story but a deep introspective exploration of the effects of SA.....lol ok. And then she gets killed off at the end offscreen in a single sentence.

There’s also....I really doubt she intended some of this but it’s clearly in the story .... it really has bad implications, that the only relations between men are abusive in both books. there are literally no other relations between men, even though there is a gay character (who I understand  is a celibate priest, and having a gay priest is cool!) but....it just doesnt have good implications that relations between men are only ever presented as bad. especially because the thing that truly “heals” Emilio is being with a woman and I think in our society (and thus our media) we have a real problem with thinking that “healing” as a sexual abuse victim means having sex with a man if youre a woman and with a woman if you’re a man, and that male sa victims of men are only really victims if they like women (and, of course, women sa victims in general just have to like men). Of course there is nothing wrong with Gina, I loved her, and nothing is wrong with writing an sa survivor who is able to have a relationship after. But MDR killed her off for no good reason. The other crew members dying in the first book, those were well written character deaths. and how many times did she do the “this woman died but thats whatever narratively, because she has a kid uwu miracle of life” thing in this sequel. I think MDR is like GRRM in that she has good intentions clearly, and has such good sff works/characters and takes oh the Human Experience and everything, but doesn’t always know how to handle issues in a responsible way and it’s really glaring even if there are obviously worse people in media. To be honest (and again, here Im glad there’s no fandom, because people are so weird about this stuff) MDR should have just had Emilio and John be together. “Your friendship should have been proof enough of God” ???????? hello??????  Their relationship was one of  the things that actually was well fleshed out in the sequel until John and all the other guys who weren’t in the Camorra  just.....stayed on Rakhat forever.

Part of the handling of Sofia seemed like a broader pattern of the plot being completely forced. Everything happens for some sake of The Plot- this is something later seasons of GOT have been criticized for. This plot in particular, in addition to the alien oppression metaphor, seemed to want to make everything about the story in particular its end be some kind of “bookend” to mirror the first book. Sofia dies (for real this time. honestly....her death in the first one was good writing!), Emilio and his unlikely escorts go home, no one else gets to go home, there’s a huge societal upheaval on Rakhat because of the humans, a huge reveal about Rakhat’s “divine” music. I have nothing against this kind of narrative device but when it’s this forced to the point where the story is blatantly constructed for the sake of this......it didn’t work. The “music” plot twist was like..............really??? All of that? They’re staying on this planet? If they had all gotten more time in the story (because this book is the same length as the first book but has far more different subplots and far longer of a timespan and far more narrators) we might  find that more plausible. I don’t think everything needs to be spelled out for us. In the first book when everyone is stranded, it’s clear that they think this is tragic, but they are trying to make the best of it because they all love each other and are together. In this one they don’t all have that kind of bond and it’s dependent on the long-winded and incoherent Rakhat political storyline. Because a lot of it isn’t even that well developed in addition to the earlier addressed things. We go between random one-off characters. So much is about the war but it’s written so anti-climatically. Sofia broke down in the first book when she learned they were stranded, and now she doesn’t care at all about returning back to Earth because the Runa are “her people” now, but how much of that is really what she tells herself to cope with what she lost- and what she experienced on earth in her youth? we don’t know. The Pope just....sent Emilio who became probably the most infamous person on Earth, back into space, and it wasn’t a big deal for the Church or at all? And all it took for it to happen was a handful of Camorra men with Vatican connections, who were just adapted so well to space travel and extended time on a new planet that initially made the people in the first book sick when transitioning into life there? And let me reiterate we’re supposed to accept that the divinely ordained reason all this happened was because Isaac wrote music inspired by human and alien dna and it sounded wonderful? 

This just felt very forced. “Emilio never wants to go back to Rakhat so obviously this book has to be about how he goes back there and accepts that it actually happened for a Good Reason bc of some music, and music was the way they found it in the first place.” How about how he accepts that it happened and comes to terms with what happened to him without either hating himself for his actions or thinking it was all For The Greater Good Actually, because you cant undo the past, aka what the first book was building up to and culminated in? idk. the first book was all about how bad things happen and that this doesn’t mean we have to give up our faith even if we question our faith. this was more like “every cloud has a silver lining lol”.

There were many nice things- Emilio’s friendship with Nico, many of the moments with Sofia towards the end and her reuniting with Emilio, John getting more to do, the new Pope, Celestina ending up having an important job as a theater and leaving a trail of men in her wake lol. I don’t want to say don’t read this. But if you like the first book you might not like this one, and if you’re considering reading the first book, it.....works best as a standalone.

[jaeminlore]

Magic // Hansol Vernon Chwe

-

the prompt: vernon never liked schoolwork, and you weren’t one for random adventures. however, things can quickly change when you’re with the right person.

words: 7821

category: hogwarts au + fluff

author note: this took literally a year to write or at least that’s what it felt like. anyway this is for marissa (@midnighthansol) who go check out her scenario blog (@skooluvsaffair) bc it’s one of my favorites and she wrote camp counselor!jun for me and i squealed so loudly reading it lol.

ps i want to write for all of hogwarts!seventeen bc it’s so much fun and I’ve already got a hufflepuff!jun coming up so why not more?

- destinee

-

“Please, Jeonghan?” Vernon begged, stressfully running his hand through his dark locks. “All I’m asking you to do is help me with this potions essay.”

The fellow slytherin, who was casually undoing his tie, rose one of his eyebrows without raising his head. “No, what you’re asking me to do is lose precious sleeping hours. Which, by Jeonghan Law, is actually offensive.”

Vernon rolled his eyes, letting a frustrated groan emit from his lips as he stared at the blank parchment in front of him. “This is due tomorrow morning and if I don’t turn it in I’ll get detention. If I get detention, I won’t be able to go to quidditch practice.”

“Sounds like a personal problem to me,” Jeonghan said smartly, giving Vernon a patronizing pat on the shoulder before heading down the hall to his dorm.

Vernon scowled to himself. Jeonghan was correct. Technically, it was a personal problem, since he was supposed to have this essay finished weeks ago. However, why would one write an essay when they could practice quidditch? Why would one finish research when they have friends to hang out with? Honestly, Vernon felt that his last two years in Hogwarts should be spent having fun. He knew he would regret it if he didn’t explore the castle when he could.

There was a nearly empty box of muggle jellybeans on his table. Vernon couldn’t eat Bertie Bott’s: not since Seungkwan gave him a vomit-flavored one. Instead, Vernon appreciated the simple berry-flavored ones that muggles were content to stick with. Jellybeans were really the only snack that could keep him awake, since the sugar buzzed his brain for just a few minutes while he wrote down his next paragraph.

With a lime jellybean between his teeth and a quill between his fingers, Vernon worked towards his goal of finishing his essay before dawn. He was so concentrated, he couldn’t hear the soft footsteps of his sister descending down the stairs from the girl’s dormitory. It wasn’t until he felt her flick the back of his head that he noticed her. “Ow!” He held his head and turned around, “Sophia!”

His little sister, also in Slytherin, stood in front of him with a letter in her hand. “I talked to Mom and Dad.”

“So? Can’t you see I’m busy?”

Sophia huffed childishly and pulled the quill out of her brother’s hand. “I think you’ll want to hear this. I told mom and dad about your horrible study habits. They were worried about you and why you hadn’t owled them.”

“I’ll do it later,” Vernon promised, “I’ve got a lot on my plate right now.”

“You wouldn’t have anything on your plate if you’d just do your assignment the night you get it.”

Vernon ran a hand down his face, distraught, “What do you want?”

“Mom and Dad said to get you a tutor. They want someone who will push you to do your work instead of goofing off until the last minute.”

“Great. I’ll ask Seungkwan tomorrow.”

“Not so fast,” Sophia blocked his efforts. “They said •I• could pick your tutor. After some thought, I’ll choose one and send them your way.”

Vernon groaned and buried his head in his arms. “I always get my work done, though! Why do I need a tutor?”

“Don’t think of them as a tutor.” Sophia patted his shoulder comfortingly. “Think of them as a time manager.”

“That sounds stupid,” Vernon said.

“You sound stupid,” Sophia retorted.

“If you two don’t keep quiet I will take my head boy butt all the way to the headmaster and deduct slytherin points myself!” Jeonghan suddenly hissed from the boy’s dormitory.

“Sorry!” Both Vernon and Sophia replied, rosy-cheeked.

“I promise I’ll find someone nice. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight,” Vernon replied, accepting the quill she was giving back to him.

As soon as she left, he got back to work.

-

“You’re such an idiot,” you told Seungkwan, your friend who had stuffed five slices of toast into his mouth on a dare from his other friend, Chan. “You’re going to choke.”

“Bo if ot!” he spoke through the bread, which you correctly translated as “no, I’m not”. You drummed your fingers against the wooden table as your fellow Gryffindors cheered Seungkwan on. As he was shoving a sixth slice of toast in, someone tapped your shoulder. You turned around to see Sophia Chwe from Slytherin, only a few inches shorter than you, looking up expectantly.

“Hi, Sophia,” you said. “What’s up?” You knew Sophia because of her brother Vernon, who just so happened to be Seungkwan’s best friend. The two of them were rarely ever seen apart. You had spoken to Vernon on a few occasions, but the two of you couldn’t really be classified as friend yet. Acquaintances seemed to be a better term for your relationship.

Sophia rolled her eyes, “It’s my brother. He’s horrible at time management and my parent’s have asked me to find someone to help him keep a good studying schedule. I thought of you, since you helped me fix my timetables earlier this year. If you don’t want to do it, I get it, but it would be a really big help to him if you could.”

You shrugged nonchalantly. There was nothing else to do at Hogwarts, so you might as well spend more time helping someone. As a pureblood, you had already experienced a lot of the wonder of the wizarding world. It was so normalized for you that Hogwarts seemed like a boring old castle filled with nothing but annoying students and unfair homework assignments. The faster you could get out, the better. Then, you could set off to try and become an auror, and do something exciting with your life. What could be more exciting than catching evil wizards? As boring as tutoring seemed, it might help the year go by quicker. It might get you closer to your goal in a quicker amount of time. “I’ll do it. Just give me a time and place.”

“Oh, the two of you can work that out. I don’t know a sixth year’s schedule.” With that, she turned away to catch up with her own friends, all waiting for her to return before they started their meal. You turned back to your own house, filled with shouting students and Seungkwan, who had just spat out every piece of toast he had shoved into his mouth.

“Count them!” Chan shouted. Every Gryffindor waited for the result. Apparently, Seungcheol from seventh year had been able to fit eight slices into his mouth. According to the sixth years, there was no way they were going to be outranked when it came to eating games. So, however reluctantly, you watched as Seungkwan began to count each slice of toast. Cheers erupted through the hall as he counted out ten whole slices, and you found yourself clapping and cheering along.

Vernon walked in then, his hair messy and his head down as he struggled to tie his tie and walk at the same time. He was always like that, you noticed. His glazed-eyes and the bags beneath them were evidence enough to show that he never got enough sleep. That, and his mismatched outfits. There was always something wrong with his clothing, whether it be misaligned buttons, an upturned collar, or an untucked shirt. Sometimes, he forgot his cloak altogether. During those times, he could be seen around the castle, darting towards the dungeons with the speed of a cheetah. Although it was humorous to watch him walk around like a chicken with it’s head cut off, you knew that his parents were right. It would be so much easier for him if he just managed his time properly.

He finally fixed his tie, and walked over to Seungkwan with a relaxed smile on his face. You could hear them talking and laughing about the intense challenge that Vernon had unfortunately missed. At the sound of your name, you were drawn into the conversation. “Y/n told me I was stupid for trying it.”

Vernon seemed to just notice you for the first time, and his hand immediately went to his rustled locks in an attempt to calm them. “Don’t you have faith in Seungkwan?”

“No,” you snorted.

“None at all?” Seungkwan asked, offended.

“None,” you confirmed cheekily before turning to Vernon. “By the way, your sister asked me to help with your time management? When’s a good time to get together and create some schedules?”

-

Out of all the people his sister could’ve picked, it had to be the one girl in the entire castle that Vernon had a crush on. It was bad enough that he was always sleep-deprived, with you in front of him there was no way for him to concentrate on anything. Not when his mind was reeling to find topics to talk to you about. He averted his eyes to the table. “Oh. I guess I’m free after dinner tonight.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, “Don’t you have any free periods earlier than that?”

“I don’t.” The lie slipped off of Vernon’s tongue like honey. Sure, his parent could get him help, but that didn’t mean he was going to listen to you. It definitely didn’t mean he was going to skip his daily activities and adventures just to make up schedules that he didn’t need. Yes, he had a crush on you, but that didn’t mean you had any power over him whatsoever. He wasn’t going to succumb to the holds of something so systematic as time.

“I don’t believe you, but I’ll accept your answer. Meet me in the library at eight o'clock. No later than that, okay?”

“Okay,” Vernon said.

-

You tapped your fingers against the library table. Your anxious habits only increased as the minutes ticked on. It seemed Vernon had forgotten about your little meeting, or better yet chose not to come at all. Although you understood that he might not want to come, you didn’t expect him to blow you off completely. He could at least have the respect to cancel so you weren’t left looking pathetic in the corner table of the library. Having waited for an hour, you gathered all your completed homework and began to leave the library. It would be closing in a few minutes anyway. Curfew was soon and you needed to return to your common room before a prefect started asking what you were up to.

On your way up the stairs, you could hear footsteps from somewhere below. You and the few other students still hanging around all looked around as Vernon’s voice suddenly shouted, “Y/n! Wait!”

Vernon was in front of you quickly. So quickly, in fact, that he almost ran into you from the full momentum. “I’m so sorry!” His arms waved around frantically as he struggled to explain himself, “Seungkwan and I were looking for a secret passageway and we lost track of time. I promise I wasn’t standing you up.”

He looked so genuinely worried about your reaction that you couldn’t help but believe him. “Well we have an hour until ten, if you still want to work out a schedule.”

Vernon sighed in relief. “Yeah, okay. Let’s go to the Great Hall.”

You agreed, thankful that he hadn’t stood you up.

In the Great Hall was another Slytherin who Vernon greeted as Jeonghan. The older student frowned at the two of you, “How long are you two planning on staying here?”

“Just ‘til curfew,” Vernon answered.

“Alright.” Jeonghan slipped into the headmaster’s seat and slouched against the armrest. “Wake me when it’s curfew.”

Vernon snorted, “You’re the worst head boy in the world.”

Jeonghan shrugged. “I didn’t choose this position. Now try to keep it down.”

You giggled quietly, finding the older boy charming in a lazy sort of way. His calm voice was enough to make you want to pull up a chair beside him and sleep your duties away, but you persisted. Instead, you turned to Vernon, “Let me see your schedule.”

“'Kay,” he turned and shuffled through his bag before finally pulling out a crumbled up piece of parchment. “It’s similar to yours, I bet.”

You hummed, unwrinkling the paper until it was readable and scanning it. “Yes… it’s similar. You don’t have any extra activities besides quidditch, so you have plenty of free time to do homework. How much have you done today?”

“Today?” Vernon rose his eyebrow, “Well, none, but before you yell at me, you should know that my best studying time is between midnight and three in the morning.”

“Is it?” You narrowed your eyes at him, “or is that what you want everyone to think?”

“Seriously,” Vernon insisted, “I can never concentrate before those times.”

“Have you ever tried?”

Vernon was silent for a moment. Then, his cheeks slightly rosier than before, he answered. “Honestly, no. But there’s so much to do!” he protested. “I’ve got to play quidditch with the boys, explore the castle with Seungkwan, visit the kitchen with Mingyu, and all this other stuff.”

“Doesn’t that get boring?” you wondered aloud. “Doing the same thing every day?”

“Who said I was doing the same thing every day?” Vernon asked. “Y/n, do you know how big this castle is? Do you know how long it takes to explore? Do you know how many different foods house elves can make? Have you ever asked them to teach you? Have you ever played a wicked game of quidditch with twelve other boys in the middle of the night with silencing charms above your head? Every day is more fun and more laughter; why would I waste all that time studying?” His smile reached all the way to his eyes, and you could see the genuine spark of pride that slipped in between his dark irises as he explained his daily endeavors. You almost believed him.

“You seriously like this place?” you asked.

Vernon furrowed his eyebrows, and an insulted pout formed at his bottom lip. “Excuse you, this place is one of the greatest places on earth. Why don’t you like it?”

“It’s boring,” you said, “I’ve been to castles before, and wizard homes. To me they’re all the same. I guess magic doesn’t seem very magical anymore. The only thing it’s good for is convenience. I mean, if muggles knew about us, I think they’d stop thinking fantasy is such an interesting genre.”

Vernon scoffed. “I can’t believe what I’m hearing. Have you ever seen a dragon? If that’s boring to you, then what’s exciting, Y/n? What’s more exciting than a thirty foot tall lizard that shoots fire out of its nose? Humor me.”

“No need to get defensive,” you said, “It’s just a difference of opinion.”

“Oh no, a different of opinion is me liking strawberry ice cream and you liking chocolate. How can you say Hogwarts isn’t magical?”

The poor boy looked ready to cry, and you felt the urge to reach out and pat his shoulder, hug him, anything really that would keep him from getting upset. “I’m sorry. I guess I’ve gotten a bit insensitive to it. Let’s just figure out this schedule and get to bed before we begin another argument.”

Before you could pick up a quill, Vernon had snatched his schedule up and stuffed it in the bottom of his bag. “No way, Miss stick-in-the-mud. We have to figure this magic thing out first. Let’s make a bet. Gryffindors like bets, don’t they?”

You looked at him skeptically, “I guess?”

“Great, so I bet that I can get you to find the magic in magic again. If I win, I don’t have to do this stupid schedule with you. If you win, I’ll stick with the schedule you give me no matter what.”

You couldn’t refuse that offer. ��What’s the time limit?”

“One month. Christmas break can mark the end date.”

“Fine. You’ve got yourself a bet, Chwe. When do we start?”

“Tomorrow,” he answered confidently. “Let’s meet in the kitchen at midnight.”

Although you found nothing inherently exciting about kitchens, Vernon seemed ecstatic, so you agreed.

-

Most of your friends would’ve guessed you’d be in Ravenclaw. You lived a very orderly life, and just weren’t very daring or spontaneous in general. Perhaps it was chivalry that got you into Gryffindor, or perhaps your loyalty to friends. It definitely wasn’t your adhesion to rules. You were one of the best rule-abiding students in the school. Gryffindor’s head boy, Seungcheol, loved you for this reason. It’s also the reason he was so confused when he caught you sneaking out of the common room at midnight. “Y/n? What are you doing up?”

Seungcheol was a wild card, and while he sometimes let students get away with things, you couldn’t count on him to be lenient all of the time. The best thing to do was lie with enough of a sob story that he’d pity you and let you go. That was what you had heard anyway, having never actually tried it yourself. You weren’t sure why you were abandoning reason and the comfort of your warm bed just to meet up with Vernon, whose idea of fun was to visit a kitchen in the middle of the night. You had no idea how that concluded to anything magical, since you had watched muggle television shows and knew for a fact that every teenager went to their kitchen in the middle of the night. Then again, maybe Vernon was unaware of that fact. You were glad you had opted out of wearing your uniform, since the story you were about to feed to Seungcheol would be more believable told in pajamas. “I’ve been studying all night and could really use some nourishment. I was going to the kitchen for a sandwich.”

Seungcheol pursed his lips in mock-thought, and you could see his eyes softening as he looked at your tired features. “All right, go. Be careful and don’t get caught, okay?”

You saluted, “Thanks, Cheolie.”

He waved you off. “Come back quickly.”

In all your nervousness at Seungcheol’s reaction, you realized you had forgotten to ask where the kitchen was, let alone how to get in. After wracking your brain, you remembered something about it being near the Hufflepuff common room. That would be where all the food-lover jokes originated from.

By the time you got to the Hufflepuff common room, you were lost again. There were the familiar barrels stacked against the wall, and you didn’t dare go near them in fear of being doused with vinegar. Instead, you paced back and forth in the corridor, hoping with all your heart that Hufflepuff’s head boy and girl had already finished their rounds for the night. You hugged the hunter green jacket you were wearing closer to your body, in the hopes of preserving some kind of warmth. You had forgotten how cold the castle could get when there were no fireplaces around. Instead, you huddled under one of the few torches heating up the hall, hoping to gain what little heat it let off.

“Y/n!” a voice suddenly hissed, “Over here!” It was Vernon, standing at the end of the hallway. He was hidden in the shadows, his hand over a large portrait of fruit.

You walked closer to him and furrowed your eyebrows. “What are we doing out here? Where’s the kitchen?”

Vernon ruffled his hair nervously, “Ah, well I remembered that I had forgotten to give you directions, so I’ve been waiting outside of the kitchen. It’s right here, see?”

You looked around. “I don’t see any doors.”

“That’s because you aren’t looking deeply enough,” Vernon concluded. “In a magical castle, do you assume every entrance is marked by a door?”

“Yes. That’s what entrances are, Vernon.”

The slytherin tutted, shaking his head from side to side like a disappointed mother. “You have so much to learn. Lesson one: everything is not as it seems. Watch closely.”

As you watched, Vernon reached up on his toes, his fingers grazing over the pear in the fruit portrait. Suddenly, the pear let out a shrieking giggle and a handle appeared on the side of the frame. Your jaw dropped at what had just happened, but you quickly shut your mouth when Vernon turned around, not willing to give him any satisfaction. “Cool right?”

You shrugged indifferently. “I guess. In the end tho, it’s still just a door.”

Vernon held the door open for you, a scowl over his lips at your answer. “You’re impossible. C'mon, we’ve got a lot to do before sunrise.”

“Sunrise?” you balked, swiveling on your heel to face him. “How long are we going to be here?”

Vernon only shrugged, a small smile lifting the corners of his lips.

You ignored him and walked into the kitchen. You couldn’t help the gasp that escaped you. It was perhaps the largest kitchen you had ever seen in your life. Rows and rows of countertops lined the room, with nearly a dozen stools propped up on each. Upon these stools we’re house elves of different shapes and sizes, each wearing a dishcloth with the Hogwarts symbol embedded across the breast. Each table seemed to represent something. For instance, the one closest to you seemed to be collectively stirring a giant pot of porridge, which you were sure would be eaten tomorrow morning. Others each made hundreds of servings for breakfast the next morning, and you were amazed to see the work that went into the food that always just appeared in front of you.

“Incredible, isn’t it?” Vernon asked from beside you. In the light of the kitchen, you could see him better. He looked comfortable in slippers, flannel pajama pants, and an oversized maroon hoodie. His hair seemed damp, as if he had just recently taken his shower, and the ends curled ever so slightly under his ears.

Feeling your gaze, he turned to look at you. His positive features were nearly shining as he searched for some kind of answer in your eyes. Hesitantly, his gaze trailed down your body and his smile widened considerably. “You’re wearing my colors.”

“Huh?” You looked down at your t-shirt. “White is your color?”

“No!” Vernon reached out and tugged on the drawstrings of your jacket. “Green for Slytherins.”

Your face heated up as his fingers drew closer to your neck. You finally pushed him away, “Yeah, well you’re wearing my colors. Your hoodie is red.”

Vernon bit his lip excitedly, “I have an idea for tomorrow, but let’s do what we came to do here first, before I reveal it.”

“What did we come here to do?” you asked.

“We, my dear friend, are going to make Joshua a cake!”

“Who’s Joshua?”

Vernon began walking to one of the empty counters as he answered you, “He’s a Hufflepuff. His birthday is soon and we’re celebrating it early since it falls during Christmas break.”

“Ah,” you nodded. “Isn’t there one baker in your giant group of friends that can do it?”

Vernon thought for a moment. “Well, Mingyu is great at cooking so he’s going to sneak in here tomorrow to cook Joshua’s favorite food. He won’t have time to make a cake as well. To help him, I volunteered to bake the cake. Everyone agreed so long as I recruited help.”

“So you recruited someone who has never baked a cake in her life.” you deadpanned.

“Well, dang, it would’ve been nice of you to tell me that before. What teenager has never baked a cake? Like, don’t you ever get the random craving for something sweet?”

“Sometimes,” you supposed, “but I’m fine after a lollipop or something small like a strip of taffy.”

Vernon sighed dejectedly and leaned against the counter, burying his head in his arms. “Why are you so boring? Aren’t Gryffindors supposed to live outside of the box? Aren’t they supposed to be daring and fun and the leaders of the rebellions?”

“I dunno. I don’t know why the hat told me Gryffindor, it just did. I know I’m not daring, but you don’t have to act like it’s a bad thing.”

Vernon pondered your words for a moment. “It’s not a bad thing, it’s just that I seem to remember a certain first year getting detention for sneaking out of the castle. You don’t have that same spirit anymore, do you?”

You blushed and looked away. “That was a long time ago. I don’t really have the same mindset I did when I was twelve years old.”

“So?” he urged, “Where did that mindset go?”

“I don’t know,” you shrugged. “I grew up. I know all about magical stuff. Nothing is new to me anymore and nothing is exciting.”

Vernon shoved your shoulder with his own. “Don’t lie to me. I saw your face when you walked in here. You think this is cool.”

“I guess,” you admitted. “Look, Vernon, I don’t have anything against Hogwarts, okay? I’m not sad or depressed either. I just… don’t find magic very interesting. You don’t have to act like I’m a troubled case or something.”

Vernon smirked. “I’m not. I want you to find that mindset again, though. You’ll get it back during our bet. Don’t worry.”

“I’m not worried,” you rolled your eyes sardonically. “You won’t win the bet because I don’t find anything interesting.”

Vernon let you play out your little lie. Even though you knew exactly what state of wonder he was talking about, for you had never known that there was a hidden kitchen in the castle. Especially not one filled with cute little house elves and a warm fireplace.

“So I’m thinking four layers chocolate cake will do,” Vernon explained to you as a few house elves brought in the ingredients to make a cake from scratch.

After the two of you thanked them for their help, you replied, “Aren’t four layers too much? How many of you are there?”

“Thirteen.”

“Thirteen? That’s a lot, but it’s not enough for four layers.”

Vernon side-eyed you with a playful smirk, “Clearly, you’ve never seen thirteen teenage boys when they’re starving.”

“Whatever,” you said, “What do we do first?”

“I don’t know.”

“I don’t know either, Vernon.”

The two of you stared at the ingredients for a long time before you finally said what both of you were thinking, “Should we ask one of the house elves to help us?”

“Yeah, that’s probably a good idea.” Vernon ran off to find a house elf that wasn’t working.

The house elf, named Inky, was very helpful. She basically baked the entire cake herself, only trusting the two of you to mix the icing ingredients. Once the cake was in the oven, Vernon led you over to the fireplace. There, the two of you could warm yourselves up while you waited for the cake to bake. He decided this was the time to tell you his plan. “Let’s switch houses tomorrow.”

“What?” Your voice was layered in confusion. “What does that even mean?”

“Seungkwan and I do it all the time,” Vernon explained as he situated his legs into a criss-cross position. “We switch uniforms and go to each other’s classes. It’s fun because we get to see what each other do every day.”

“But…” You weren’t exactly sure how to explain to Vernon how apprehensive that idea made you. To be honest, everyone knew Vernon could be a bit ditzy sometimes, and it was a miracle if he managed to ever write notes in class. That was fine for him, who studied without notes. You, however, relied on notes like oxygen. They were the only things that helped you remember the material. Without them, you were sure you’d get bad rankings. You weren’t sure you trusted Vernon to write notes for you, “Won’t the teachers get angry?”

Vernon waved your concern away, “They never notice. If they do, they don’t care. If they ever start caring for some reason, the worst we’ll get is detention.”

You sighed. “I don’t like this idea.”

“Please?” Vernon stuck out his lower lip and grabbed your hands, hoping to guilt you into going through with his plan. “I promise I’ll write notes for you. I have to write them for Seungkwan every time we play this game.”

“You promise you’ll write me good notes?”

Vernon smiled brightly. “Yes!”

“Fine. It’s a deal, then.”

-

Seungkwan brought you Vernon’s robes and tie the next morning, stating that Vernon would be wearing his since yours were probably too small for him. As you pulled the emerald-embossed robes over your head, you couldn’t help but notice how nice they smelt. It was as if Vernon was always carrying around cinnamon and vanilla, for he smelt warmer than a comfortable little bakery.

It felt weird wearing his clothes. It felt even weirder walking over to the Slytherin table instead of Gryffindor, where you usually sat. Jeonghan was there, a familiar face in a sea of green. You hastily sat beside him. “Hello. Can I sit here?”

Jeonghan grinned, “Are you and Vernon playing that weird switch game he likes or did you put on his tie by accident?”

From the tone of his voice, you knew what he was insinuating, and the thought made you blush. “Don’t assume things like that. We’re playing the switching game.”

Jeonghan shrugged, as if it was all the same (either that or he had stopped listening), and took a sip of his coffee. “I didn’t know the two of you were even friends. I knew Vernon liked you, but I thought he was just crushing on someone he couldn’t have.”

“What? Vernon likes me?” Your voice rose an octave at the absurd idea of Vernon Chwe having a crush on you. “Are we talking about the same Vernon?”

“Totally,” Jeonghan answered. “He’s thought you were the cutest thing since your first year with you sneaking around and getting into trouble with your friends.”

You frowned. “We have a bet going. He thinks I’ve lost my sense of magic and I agree. He’s trying to get it back and I’m telling him it’s a lost cause, because I don’t care anymore. Do you think he only wants it back because that’s the part of me he liked? Do you think he’s trying to get that part of me working again so he can like the person he liked a few years ago?”

Jeonghan paused in his actions, his head swiveling around to look at Vernon. You turned too, only to see him look at you and hastily away, ears red at being caught. Jeonghan finally shook his head. “No. Vernon isn’t selfish like that. I don’t know why he made the bet with you, but it definitely isn’t what you’re thinking.”

“Oh.” You nodded. Even if that wasn’t the reason, it felt weird knowing that Vernon had a crush on you. It made you hyper-aware of everything. Why would he have a crush on you? You weren’t anything special. Out of all the students in Hogwarts, there had to be a reason Vernon chose you. Yet, you couldn’t think of any. With a sigh, you gathered your things for Vernon’s first class of the day. “See you at lunch, Jeonghan.”

-

You learned quickly that Slytherins had to work twice as hard to be noticed as the other houses did. Perhaps it was house pride, but you suspected it was more house prejudice and how much Slytherin had to do with the Second Wizarding War. It didn’t matter how many times you rose your hand, if a Hufflepuff rose theirs as well, you weren’t going to be noticed at all. Save for Professor Longbottom, who gave each house an equal chance to answer questions, most of the professors favored the house they used to be in. Professor Zabini was the only Slytherin professor currently, and he was the flying instructor, so Slytherins never got favoritism from him unless they were first years. You definitely weren’t used to it. After years of constantly being called on, seeing a Slytherin’s perspective was a bit jarring.

You took notes for Vernon, unsure if he would use them or not. He had most of the same classes you did, save a few electives. You were amazed that he had chosen Ancient Runes and Arithmancy, for they were two harder classes you didn’t dare choose. It was funny to think of Vernon in your electives: Care of Magical Creatures and Divination. Yours were rather… easy classes. However, his were practically torture. Note-taking was almost useless as you had no idea what you were writing down. You had no idea what had happened in previous lessons, or what the premise for the professor’s inside jokes were.

By dinner time, when Vernon and you had agreed to switch back, you were mentally exhausted. The electives alone were so engaging that it was no wonder Vernon hated going right back to homework after finishing them. You didn’t want to either. Going back to the kitchen sounded like a better and more fun option. With a visible shudder, you realized Vernon was starting to rub off on you.

Vernon ran up to where you sat eating, with a large grin plastered over his face. “Y/n! Your classes are so much fun! I completely forgot Hagrid did Care of Magical Creatures and now I feel like I want to switch electives.”

You looked at him strangely, “How do you know Hagrid?”

“I have tea with him all the time. Tons of students do it, didn’t you know?”

“Really? He’s invited me for tea before but I thought he was just joking.”

“No!” Vernon slid in the seat beside you and took a sip of the pumpkin juice that appeared before him. “Hagrid loves visitors. He’ll tell you cool stories too. Did you know he knows Harry Potter? Like, the real Harry Potter?”

Seeing Vernon so excited elicited a giggle from you. “No, I didn’t.”

“We’ve got to have tea with him someday. It’s one of my favorite things to do around here.”

“Okay,” you agreed.

Vernon pumped his fist in the air victoriously. “Great! Oh, before I forgot, here are your notes.” He passed you three slips of parchment, each covered front to back with neat handwriting.

You scanned them, feeling your heart warm at how hard Vernon must’ve concentrated to write all these notes for you. Your brain felt fuzzy at how much he must’ve cared to do that for you. What Jeonghan told you during breakfast came to your mind once more. It was a bit easier to believe that Vernon wasn’t doing this to change you when he did nice things like this. “Thanks, Vernon.”

“Well, I know you like all that organized stuff. I tried to write an outline but you can see where I gave up and just copied everything the teacher said.”

“You wrote everything very quickly then,” you complimented.

Vernon blushed, “Well, I may have used an enchanted quill under the table. It’s the thought that counts though!”

“You’re impossible.”

-

“No wonder you think Hogwarts is boring,” Vernon said the next weekend as the two of you walked towards the quidditch pitch. “You’ve never seen a quidditch game.”

“I have!” you argued. “I watched them in my first and second year before I got bored.”

Vernon sighed as he checked his wrist straps. “Honestly, I think we’re more alike than you think, except we’re reversed.”

“How so?”

“Well, you get bored of after-school activities, so you throw yourself in your schoolwork. I get bored of schoolwork, so I throw myself into playing around after school and ignoring my homework.”

“Huh.” You stopped. “I guess you’re right. So you’ve gotta learn how to open up to schoolwork and I’ve got to learn how to open up to people and having fun.”

“Exactly,” Vernon said. His fellow beater, Minghao, called him over just then and he had to go get ready for the game, which you promised him you’d watch.

As you watched him leave, things seemed to fall into place in your mind. You were wrong. Vernon had never wanted to change you into a different person, he just wanted to show you the things that gave him his spirit. It was all the same, because you wanted to show him how interesting learning could be. How it could eventually help him find a dream career or simply know more about the world. It was as if the two of you were puzzle pieces, trying to fit by trading interests and ideas. Vernon was showing you pieces of his world and in return you were showing him pieces of yours. Each day the two of you were spending together was another day to get closer to understanding the world the other was living in.

With a smile, you walked into the stands to settle beside Seungkwan and the rest of Vernon’s support team. Vernon’s world was becoming more comfortable to you, and you were becoming more aware of the fact that once the bet was done, you would no longer be in it as often.

You desperately hoped you were wrong, because you didn’t think you could leave whatever bond you had with Vernon.

-

The week before Christmas break, students third year and above were allowed to go to Hogsmeade and buy presents or hang out together. Surprisingly, Vernon had asked you to come with him while he bought a present for Sophia. You had agreed, a bit apprehensive because of the cheeky grin plastered all over his face.

Now you were absolutely regretting your position because Vernon had led you past all the shops in Hogsmeade to an old rickety gate held closed by a lock. His gaze was on the tall house in the distance behind the gate. Your gaze was on him, “The Shrieking Shack? Are you serious?”

“Totally,” Vernon, who had lied about shopping for his sister, answered. “It’s haunted. Werewolves used to transform in there, I heard. I’ve wanted to go exploring for years but Seungkwan hates scary places so he would never agree.”

“What makes you think I’m going to agree?” you asked, eyeing the boy like he was crazy.

He pouted slightly, “C'mon Y/n, please? You can hold my hand if it gets too scary.”

You scoffed. “It won’t get scary. Nothing is in there.”

“If you’re going to be cocky about it, you can go first,” Vernon said. Over the weeks you two had spent together, Vernon had learned that you definitely possessed Gryffindor traits. Stubbornness was one, and the other was not being able to back down from a challenge. He knew that putting you on the spot would guarantee a ready response from you.

“Fine,” you replied, crinkling your nose at his dare. “Let’s go.”

Before Vernon could reply, you had already latched onto the rickety gate and began to climb it. You stopped at the top, one leg on either side of the gate. “Are you coming?”

Vernon licked his lips nervously and looked around. “Yeah, just give me a minute.”

You snickered as Vernon hastily climbed the gate and walked closer to you than necessary. “Just remember you can hold my hand if it gets too scary,” you teased him.

Vernon glared at you as he drew the sleeves of his favorite red hoodie over his fingers. “I’m just nervous is all.”

“You didn’t think I’d agree, did you?”

“No.”

“Well, as long as we’re being honest, I kinda feel like I’m going to pee my pants right now.”

“Seriously?” Vernon chuckled. “Then why are we doing this?”

You shrugged, “It’s more fun than watching couples snog in the Three Broomsticks. Maybe we’ll find a real ghost in there.”

“Don’t say that,” Vernon warned as the two of you neared the back door of the shack. “They might sense us the more you mention them.”

“Why are we so scared? There are ghosts in Hogwarts.”

“Nice ones,” Vernon retorted. “What if there are mean ones in the shack?”

The two of you stared at the closed door. You spoke up first, “You’re the man. Open it.”

Vernon shook his head, “I refuse to conform to your gender stereotypes. You open it.”

You sighed and hesitantly turned the knob. Throwing the door open, you backed up into Vernon, afraid of something jumping out.

Vernon steadied you, and you could feel his breath against your ear and the vibration against your back as he chuckled.

Cheeks burning, you jumped away from him. “Sorry. L-Let’s go.”

As nothing will give two teenagers bravery like avoiding their feelings, you and Vernon both found the shack less scary inside. Refusing to look each other in the eye, the two of you agreed to separate and explore the shack that way. Once alone, however, you realized this was a stupid decision. Yes, you didn’t want to face Vernon after he had unknowingly made your heart beat out of it’s chest, but that didn’t mean you’d rather be attacked by a ghost alone. Besides, this isn’t the first time Vernon had stirred your feelings. Why were the two of you overreacting now?

“Vernon?” you called out in a whisper.

“Y/n?” Vernon asked loudly, fear in his voice. “The ghost just said my name!”

You covered your mouth with your hand to suppress your giggles. Did Vernon genuinely think your whispering was the ghost? If so, this was too good of an opportunity to pass up. “Y/n can’t answer you now, for I have trapped her upstairs. You’re next, Vernon.”

Vernon let out a shaky breath, “What? What’s going to happen to us?”

“Something you can’t even imagine,” you replied in a croaky voice. You could see Vernon’s back facing you now, so you silently crept up behind him and looked over his shoulder as he looked for the “ghost”. “Hey, Vernon.”

He screamed… loudly. Clutching his heart, he fell to the floor. You fell to the floor as well, overcome with giggles at how well your trick had gone over.

“Y/n!” Vernon whined. “How could you scare me like that? I trusted you!”

“Sorry!” you snorted, clutching your stomach. “It was too funny.”

Vernon shook his head and smiled fondly at you, “You’re despicable. Let’s get out of here before a real ghost comes for us.”

He stood up first, offering his hand. You accepted it. “Agreed.”

Neither of you seemed to notice that as you left the shack, your hands were still intertwined.

-

A day before you and Vernon went to your homes for Christmas break, and the bet ended, the two of you went to visit Hagrid for tea, at Vernon’s insistence.

Hagrid was your Care of Magical Creatures teacher, and one of your favorite professors. You didn’t know him on a personal level though, so you had no idea what his hut looked like on the inside. You were rather surprised to see a crowded home with raw meat hanging from the ceiling and a drooling dog in the corner, nibbling on a saucer.

“That’s Sphinx,” Vernon informed you, pointing to the dog.

When Hagrid entered, you sidled closer to Vernon. He looked a lot taller and intimidating in the small home. That all faded away as he let out a smile, “If it isn’t Vernon!” He turned to you, “Y/n, from my class! Haven’t seen you before, ‘ave I?”

“No, Sir,” you replied. “Vernon told me I should come see you, though.”

“Finally dating, aye?” Hagrid said. Then, he noticed Vernon frantically shaking his head, so he retracted his statement, “I didn’t mean that, of course. I meant dating as in time periods. That’s what you kids are doing nowadays, right?”

Vernon hid his face in his hands.

You giggled, “Not yet, Hagrid.”

Vernon looked up then, his ears tinted red at the confidence in your voice. He cleared his throat suddenly and turned to Hagrid. “Right then. Tea?”

Hagrid served the two of you freshly brewed tea with scones that were harder than rocks. “Never learned how to soften ‘em,” he said, tossing the leftovers to Sphinx who used them as chew toys. Laughter was traded around, and you realized that Hagrid was actually very friendly and assuring, despite his rough appearance. You could see why so many students liked him. Vernon thought very highly of him; you could see it in the way his eyes shone with admiration for the professor.

You were happy that you had went with Vernon, and you were rather sad when the clock struck six o'clock and it was time to go to dinner. “Can I come visit you again, Hagrid?”

“Course!” Hagrid’s smile reached up to his beetle eyes. “Maybe bring some proper biscuits, though. I would hate to starve you.”

You laughed. “I’m afraid I can’t bake any better than you, but I’ll try to bribe someone into making them for us.”

Hagrid wished the two of you goodbye. The walk up to Hogwarts was silent. In fact, you realized, Vernon had been abnormally quiet since your little dating comment. “Are you okay, Vernon?”

He stopped in his spot, his feet instantly shuffling in their place as he struggled to bring up what was bothering him. Finally, he ushered you over to the side of the yard for privacy. “What did you mean when you told Hagrid not yet?”

“I meant that we aren’t dating yet,” you answered.

Vernon nodded, “But did you mean that you wanted us to date, or was it just a passing comment? Because “not yet” usually implies that it will happen eventually, so that would mean you want it to happen eventually, right?“

You reached for Vernon’s hand and squeezed it gently. “Calm down, would you? I want to date you, Vernon. That’s all I meant.”

“Oh,” Vernon suddenly got shy. “Then, can I kiss you? Just to seal the deal?”

“I’d be disappointed if you didn’t.”

Vernon looked nervous as he hesitantly cupped your face and leaned in. His nose bumped against yours, and he chuckled nervously before capturing your lips with his own. You clutched the fabric of his ever-present hoodie and pulled his body closer to you. His lips were so warm, so soft and velvety that you found yourself reluctant to pull away. Especially when his breaths turned into soft sighs against your mouth, making you subconsciously crave more. You pulled away slowly, “We’re going to get caught if we don’t stop.”

He rolled his eyes at your comment, a fond smirk already forming as he grabbed your hand.

The two of you walked into the castle together, and he took the moment to lean in and peck your cheek, “It’d be so worth it, though.”

“Vernon!”

~the end~

[odrseasonone]

The Fates of My Characters

so, for many of them, i hadn’t made up my mind precisely what would happen to my characters, but for some i have.  i think it’s always a good idea to keep these sorts of things in mind when writing (and ofc just bc something worked for the rp doesn’t necessarily mean it’ll work for a series obv but yeaH) so just as a refresher, here’s what i was thinking!!  my more recent characters...idk...but w my older characters, i generally have ~some idea but yeah obv all of this can be changed!! really only cassius, charles, and avelina MUST die bc even dezod could just be locked in some ~chamber of eternal torment~ or whatever if it turns out that’s what works best.  im going to put them in two categories - decided and undecided - but really that just means ~general idea~ vs ~100% open~

DECIDED

vincent alainon

dies probs bc of dmitrei given his general trajectory lbr hahaha but idk

not before we get some sort of climax over his whole situation tho but whether or not that’s wrapped up happily idk

cordelia arrington

learns the truth! has a terrible fight w her bro! probs never sees him again and then feels super guilty when he’s gone *waves flag*

def eventually fights against rowena tho!!

her claim is def also always hanging over her - in both good and bad ways and both as pawn and stateswoman at different times

may or may not rule/be proclaimed queen asp

cris barret

should’ve been a dragonrider but his wife died on their wedding day so he wouldn’t be bc his bro betrayed them all #yay

has lots of fun depressing adventures

probs dies at the end and is reunited w ana in death but not before lots of suffering and angst transpires *another sarcastic yay*

*broods*

but yeah not 100% decided on this either but i caN see him falling to his death from a dragon or something gratuitous like that lajsdf

avelina beaumont

dies but close to the end, having (whether literally or figuratively) lost all her daughters and everything she holds dear...

except that one thing which is dearer to her than all others: her ability to hate alex - that she will always have ;D

evie beaumont

dies, most likely (indirectly) bc of her mother and/or her claim

most likely either falls to her death or is burned at the stake bc im mean af

but not before discovering her courage and gumption and doing her utmost to help aragoth!! 

(how effective she is on a more than personal level idk but props for effort!)

i’d also like her to go on some sort of adventure incognito a la [ this post ] possibly while traveling to the south or smth

esp given how that same journey went for celia ;D

but whether or not her compatriots know who she actually is - or even that she’s not a man - or are trying to help her idk

either way hijinks and hilarity and adventures ensue and she gets to be brave and go places and see and do things <3

i actually have a whole bunch of conflicting ideas about this journey so ladjflkjdskf

may or may not end up marrying anyone after all but deF gets offered around as we already know hahaha

cedric boleyn

i was gonna kill him but then lauren wanted kate to strike a deal w dezod to resurrect him

probs dies saving someone or something heroic and tragic like that

which im cool w but if he returns, he doesn’t come back the same...

probs comes back w a mission to kill roran bc dezod isn’t a faN

then he has to be killed all over again probs so thaT’S fun too

jesper dalmas

100% dead man walking tbh

but won’t conveniently die until he’s caused lots of trouble and accidentally forced lynessa and avelina to go north etc

esp bc they can’t really kill him now bc they killed jon and they can’t have bodies piling up...

charles degrey

100% dies heroically - possibly by cassius’ hand, possibly in some way defending roran or something

dezód destriksyon

obv he dies at the end bc we know roran is his undoing (but whether or not roran is the one to kill him idk?)

but not before something climactic goes down between him and rowena and safira and ric!!

whether separately or all at once idk

cassius montagu

100% dies may or may not pull a vader and kill rowena and/or show someone else how to first tho - rhaegar also dies

may or may not somewhat redeem himself towards the end

lucian moran

dies - its just a question of hoW

possibly killed as an offering to the demon god so that’s fuN

loys mortain

cries ;D

no but i feel like he probs lives and gets to be reunited in the end w his one true love - keys <3

but his death may or may not be faked or whatever idk

also never consummates his marriage w celia but he doES (and don’t let any children read this!) hold her hand at least once!

racy stuff

rochilda thaon

dies - possibly killed as a sacrifice to the demon god, possibly by rowena or dezod or something?????

osmund urry

dies but is cool w it

i mean, he’s not suicidal, he’s just... ‘its my time’ or whatever its more bittersweet than tragic

jon valles

stabbed to death at his own wedding - it’s the best day in aragothi history

adela vipont

is forced to actually look the world in the eye asp but mostly she’s just ridiculous smdh <3

probs has to ultimately make a decision that forces her out of her comfort zone to do the right thing™

normand vipont

dies just a question of how and when

probs has some sort of entanglement w the pirates asp bc of the seafaring thing and we need a naval battle ;D

may or may not ever make any headway in his goals????

emylyna vipont

probs dies but not before somewhat redeeming herself hopefully???

UNDECIDED

edmund browne

probs ends up somehow embarking on a quest/emotional journey for which he is 100% unprepared tbqh

ivette bryant

becomes a dragonrider w a green dragon <3

does her utmost to help others gain freedom as she has done - wether literally or figuratively

her ultimate fate tho is a mystery - who knows maybe shE falls from her dragon instead of cris maybe she lives idk

lena castillon

will probs finally get to travel!!!

beyond that idk

dominick fletcher

idk but i do know that nothing good is on its way ;D

roderick fray

a hot mess, fucks around, makes things worse, eventually grows into something more hopefully

possibly dies?????

james garin

is a lil shit first, last, and always ;D

no but idk what happens to him exactly in the end hahaha

comes back to the south 

tries to become a better man!!!

tristan lanquetot

rides off into the sunset w ophelia probs to heal but idk might die to expunge all those murders #yikes

roseline l’archer

brigitte mortain

honestly probs dies doing something stupid but whether that’s before or after the story ends idk ;D

may or may not marry

if she does marry rob, she 100% runs away/tries to run away and/or tries to poison him #facepalm

radulfus osmunt

isabella quincy

can see her burning, can see her saving someone, can see her redeeming herself (those not mutually exclusive obv)

can also see her living??????? idk

andrya rience

most likely gets some kind of comeuppance/punishment but probs lives??????

lysander stafford

eventually gets his - both literal and figurative - story straight but from there idk

warin thorel

100% makes armor and/or swords or something for the new dragonriders

100% does something dramatic w those arms before them probs

beyond that tho idk?????

aymon vaux

is a dumbass till the end but idk when that’ll be - whether during the storyline of odr or later hahaha

remon vipont

undecided but im leaning towards death tbh

deF strives v much, has a whole lot of angst about his child if/when he learns of her true paternity, etc

joffrey vymont

travels all over the place!! makes tons of mistakes!!

gresilda wystan

[thawly]

moving back in w/ my parents has brought up so much childhood trauma and I’m just kind of a sad wreck all the time now. And it’s worse bc my mom and sister are trying to work out their years of issues and I keep overhearing it and it just sucks. Like my mom just said “I’m in counseling I waited to late but I’m trying to work on it” and I just don’t believe her. Like my parents aren’t good people and they can’t undo all the shit they put us through. And I’m literally bawling typing this because it all hurts so much. And I just keep thinking of all the times my mom would apologize and say she would try to do better and she never fucking did. It was just disappointment after disappointment and I’d get my hopes up every single time and then I’d be crushed again. I mean they’re my parents and I love them like any kid would but I think we’re all better without each other. My brother is my family. And I know my sister who lives here and I hash it out all the time and I don’t trust her. But hearing her talk with my mom just broke me because she’s being so compassionate. My dad was awful to her, I got most of my mom’s mind games and shit, and my dad was pretty rough with me,, but my dad was terrible to my sister. I remember watching it when I was really little and it was bad. But like I worked so hard to move through this mess and accept it when I was like 16-19, and then last summer happened and I had an unrelated trauma that just kind of ruined it all. But I was living without all of this and now that I’m back in the house with them it’s an everyday thing. Like every day I’m here it comes back up. Or they’ll say something and I’ll just get so mad. Like even though my mom’s in therapy and “trying to get help” she’s still trying to make excuses for her actions and there aren’t any. She was manipulative and abusive and neglectful and awful and no amount of “I’m doing better now” is going to change what she did. And she’s not even taking accountability for it and it’s on her. She’s the one who acted that way. She’s the one who covered for someone she knew was hurting her children. Who covered for two men she knew was. and it’s so hard because I just want to go off on her. I want her to actually be sorry for her actions, but I know if I confront her it’s going to be just like it was when I was a teenager living in their home. She’ll say she doesn’t remember something or that it didn’t really happen and I’m gonna be back to feeling powerless.  And that’s wrong. Everything just sucks so much and I know I just have to finish out this semester of school and maybe January here to save up a little more, and then I’m moving in with my brother but it’s just so hard right now.  Everything hurts so much, and in a lot of ways I think it’s good I moved back home because when I was on my own I wasn’t facing the issues of being assaulted last year and all of that. I was drinking all the time and making some really poor decisions and when I first moved back home those decisions got worse, but when I was carless for those few months and living here I was able to stop being as self-destructive. And now tomorrow is my first day of college and even though I’ve lost a lot of friends I’m starting to get back to working towards my future. II really just need to get into therapy because I’ve clearly got a lot of issues to work through, and there’s some other stuff I’m not going to go into that really fucking sucks, but idk I’m just really sad all the time and I feel the way I felt like my junior/senior year of high school. In some ways, it’s really comforting and I know it’s going to get better and that I made it then so I can make it now. But in a lot of ways, I feel trapped the same way I did then. I can see the light at the end of the tunnel, but I’ve got a couple more miles to go before I’m there, and there’s a lot of roadblocks in my way. if you did read this, please just pray or send some good vibes my way. I could use some encouragement. These next few months are gonna be really hard. Bright side? I’ll be living in my favorite (southern) city before I’m 21 (with my best friend bro) so that’s something I’m really excited about.