#once again can’t deny the family allegations

[totodilff]

Like father

Like son

[weasley-clan]

Aurors and Dragons

Chapter 2/?? - The Confrontation

(Charlie Weasley x f!reader)

Description: The hunt for the alleged dragon smuggler, Charlie Weasley, begins. After a heated conversation with your family, you’re really not in the mood for anything that doesn’t involve you cuddled up in your bed. Of course, Tonks doesn’t see it that way. After all, you have someone to find, and she has a lead. You’re hesitant to arrest your old friend, but when you and Tonks find a familiar mop of red hair (in a shady bar, no less), it seems you have no choice.

Taglist: @k-k-merlin @wisteria-blooms @sh-12h57 @idkwimdahyd @windrider0657-90283 @atomictyphoonkitten (Let me know if I missed you, or if you want to be added!)

Word Count: 3.1k

Sorry for the wait on this one. It was originally supposed to be a short chapter, but I decided to just go ahead and merge chapters 2 and 3 into one big chapter, so this became longer than anticipated. I hope you think it was worth the wait!

Warnings: None, probably

It had been two days since the notice was posted in the Auror’s office. Two days since Charlie Weasley had been branded a crook. Tonks convinced you to take the job, so those two days had been spent going through travel records, floo history, and anything else to find the now infamous dragon smuggler. Despite your obvious reluctance to believe Charlie could be a criminal, the case progressed steadily. But even now, while you sit at your desk with Tonks, studiously going over your notes, something still feels wrong.

“Do you think something about this is… weird?” You ask, not for the first time. Tonks sighs. “You asked that fifteen minutes ago.” “I’m telling you, something’s strange about this!” Tonks brushes her hair off her face and looks at you, temporarily forgetting the smuggling activities chart she’d been studying. You look down sullenly, thinking she is going to scold you again for not staying on track. Instead, Tonks sighs. “Y/N, listen. I know you don’t want to believe that Charlie could be a dragon smuggler.” You start to deny it, but Tonks continues, “And maybe he isn’t, but we can’t confirm anything unless we find him, right?” You give her a mumbled ‘yes’. It seems to satisfy her, because she shifts her attention back to her chart. The rest of the day passes much the same; and with every Auror in the area now on the hunt for Britain’s newest criminal, you can’t find a single moment of respite. Eventually, it’s late enough that you can excuse yourself to go home. Not that home had been any better. Despite the past two days being filled with investigations and inquiries, there were apparently still enough hours in the day left for your parents to express their disdain for your case. Not eager to face their condescending remarks, you take the long way home, completely ignoring the fact that you could be home in an instant if you wanted to. As you exit the ministry and merge into the flow of muggles moving down the street, you let yourself think, as you’ve done the past two days. What do you know about Charlie Weasley? Immediately, the athletic redhead from Hogwarts pops into your mind. Could you possibly have to arrest the same boy who’d once sat with you in the Great Hall? You sigh. That possibility was seeming ever more likely. You spend the entire walk home lost in you thoughts, until you almost walk smack into your front door. “Crud,” you breathe. Slowly you push open the door, careful not to make a sound. You know something is off as soon as you walk through the door. The lights in the dining room are turned down low, like at one of the society parties your mother hosted when you were a kid. Sounds drifted over to you, and could you hear… laughter? Despite your plan to sneak into you room and avoid your parents, you find yourself peering around the doorframe. You expect to see one of your father’s poker games, or even your mother’s friends, but instead you see your parents engaged in giddy conversation. Your mother’s head is thrown back in a heartfelt giggle. The rare sight makes your breath catch. Your mother’s head pivots, and she locks eyes with you. The change is instantaneous. As soon as your mother’s eyes find yours, the laughter leaves. In its place, disapproval burns. Your father follows your mother’s gaze, noticing you. “Ah, Y/N! Come sit with us! We haven’t seen you in a few days.” Your mother scoffs. You smile, hoping it doesn’t look as fake as it feels. “No thanks, I already ate,” you lie. “At least talk to us for a bit. You’ve been so absorbed in your, er, work.” The mention of your job brings a sort of strangled sound to his voice. Any refusal you were about to make was cut off by your mother, who abruptly said, “Really, dare, sit and talk to me for a bit.” You would still rather refuse, but the cold, distant look in your mother’s eyes tells you that it wouldn’t be a good idea. You pull out the chair farthest from your parents and sit down. “See, Bellatrix!” Your father chortles. “She still has time to eat dinner with her family!” You shift uncomfortably in your seat. The food on the table is seemingly forgotten by all three people at the table. Your mother stares at you, her green eyes boring into your head as you refuse to meet her gaze. Your father is the first to start the conversation. “Been busy, have you?” he asked.

       “Hmm? Oh, yes, I guess I have.” You fidget absentmindedly with a fork on the table. ‘Just sit here for a few minutes, then you can leave,’ you tell yourself. It works, for a little bit. But then your father brings up work and your mother’s head shoots up.

        “So, Y/N,” She says. “Are you and your, ah, friend still tracking down that Weasley boy?”

        “Yes.”

        “I don’t see the appeal in your profession, dear, but I must say that I always knew the Weasleys were a bad lot.”

You clench your fists under the table. ‘I’m not going to let my big, fat mouth get ahead of me,’ you think. “If you say so, Mother.” 

        She clicks her tongue. “Such a disgrace to pureblood families. But of course, you don’t care about that, do you Y/N? Not with the company you keep.”

        You forced yourself to breathe in and out before you replied. Your mother was not going to make you lose your temper. “I find the company I keep to be quite a welcome respite from other sorts.” 

        Your mother’s nostrils flare, and you smile inwardly. 

Your father looks uncomfortable. “Er, Bella, how about we--”

He doesn’t get to finish. Your mother is already leaning forward, snapping out her words. “I suppose you need any company you can find in your profession, dear,” She pushes her frizzy black hair off of her face and continues, “I don’t see any other reason why you’d associate with the bloodlines that you do.”

“Perhaps their bloodline isn’t the problem.”

        Bellatrix laughs. “Not the problem? Take the Weasley boy for example. Always knew one of those boys would meet a sticky end.”

        You stand abruptly. “Sticky end? And what makes you think that, Mother?” 

        “He’s been accused of the crime, has he not?” She smiled, knowing she’d finally gotten under your skin. 

        You slam your hands down onto the table. “If it’s alright with you,” you manage to bark out, “I think I’ll be in my room with Sneep, someone civilized.” Sneep is your house elf. You know your mother will hate being called less civilized than the ‘help’. With that, you march out of the room, up the spiral staircase in the main room, and throw open your door. You immediately plop into your chair in the corner of the room and close your eyes, willing everything around you to disappear.

❀❀❀

You don’t know how long you sat in that little, comforting corner, but it was long enough for your house elf to bring you your now half-empty cup of chamomile tea. As you sit cross-legged at your desk, breathing in the thick steam wafting up from your cup, you hesitantly remember the conversation that happened only moments ago. Why had you reacted so irrationally? It had only made the situation worse. Stupid Lestrange flair for dramatics. It seemed to be the only thing you ever inherited from your parents. “What am I doing in this family?” You groan. The wind outside your window rushes past, masking your lament in it’s sound.

Suddenly, the wind isn't the only noise in the room. “You tell me,” a voice chirps from behind you.

“MERLIN’S BLOODY NAME!” You shriek. You jump out of your seat and  whip around and find yourself face to face with an oh-so-familiar grin. 

“Hey, Y/N,” Tonks laughs. 

“What are you doing here?” You shriek.

Tonks rolls her eyes. “Nice to see you, too.”

“No, really,” You take a deep breath, trying to calm your heartbeat, “what are you doing here?”

“You’re just mad that I scared you,” Tonks pouts, playfully plopping down into your chair. 

You cross your arms. “Yes, but that’s beside the point.”

“Fair enough,” Tonks chuckles. “I figured you’d want to see something.”

“Wait, wait,” You sigh. It was hard enough to collect your thoughts without Tonks here to distract you. “Is this going to be, like, a normal thing now?”

Tonks stands up, smiling. “What ever could you mean?” 

“You know what I mean. This is the second time you’ve showed up out of the blue at my house in a week. Please don’t make this a common occurrence.” Tonks’s shifty smile is all you need to know that this will not, in fact, be her last surprise visit. “I have awful taste in people,” you sigh jokingly.

“Hey! I’m a great person!” Tonks says. “You’re just lucky I’m awesome enough to come all this way to tell you about something I found.”

You look at the ceiling, exasperated. “Fine. What is it this time?” You look back down, but Tonks is gone. 

“This way, c’mon!” Tonks calls from the other side of the room. She points to the open window, and a broom waiting just outside. Noting your shocked expression, she scoffs. “You didn’t think I walked here, did you?”

You shake off your surprise. “No, I’m just surprised you were able to sneak in at all. You’re the clumsiest person alive.” You cross the room and stare at the broom. It’s Tonks’s Comet Two-Sixty, there’s no way it can hold you both…

“Well you are utterly unobservant,” Tonks retorts. “C’mon, now! Lets,” she grabs your wrist, “go!” Tonks jumps out the window, landing with a thump on the broom. Your landing is even less graceful, shaking the broom and sending you sliding forward into Tonks’s back. “Ow,” she mumbles.

“Tonks,” you breathe, still winded from your shaky landing, “this broom can’t hold both of us for long.” “It’s not supposed to!” She says, pushing her pink hair out of her eyes. Slowly, she pushes down on the broom, sending you both floating towards the ground. When your toes brush against the grass, Tonks jumps off the broom, landing unsteadily on the ground. Without a word, she stalks straight over to a flower bush right up against the wall of the manor, sticks her arm in, and rummages around. Petals fall off the flowers in white and pink flurries, but Tonks still  looks for something.

“Er, Tonks?” You call. “I’m not sure what you’re doing, exactly, but could you possibly try not to kill my mother’s orchids?” 

“Hmm? Oh, here it is!” Your friend jumps up triumphantly, holding another broom in her hand. It’s covered in leaves and flower petals, but the sleek black handle and twisting seat make it unmistakeable.

“Tonks,” you start, “did you steal my broom?!” The broom in her hands is definitely yours; it was custom made. It is one of the only things you ever used your parents’ money to get yourself. With it’s black body and golden frame, there is no mistaking your Firebolt. 

“I didn’t steal it if it never left your property, did I?” Tonks points out, thrusting the broom into your hands. “Besides, I know better. That broom is practically the love of your life,” she smirks. 

“Ha ha, very funny,” you mumble. You know she’s not wrong, though.

“Anyway,” Tonks says, “you’ll need that to get where we’re going.”

Confused, you grip the handle of your broom more stiffly in your hand. “Why can’t we just apparate there?” you ask, knitting your eyebrows together.

“First of all,” Tonks explains, “that’d be boring. Second,” she cuts off your protest, “that wouldn’t work anyway. It’s got protective charms on it.”

Tonks mounts her Comet. You follow suit, planting your feet firmly on either side of your broom. “Where exactly is this thing you want to show me?” Protective charms weren’t unusual by any means. They just weren’t usually far away enough to warrant a broom ride. “And, follow up, what is the thing you want to show me?”

Tonks grins, kicks off the ground, and shoots into the already darkening sky. “Follow me if you really want to know!” She calls down.

You kick off the ground an instant later, muttering under your breath. Didn’t Tonks ever have any mode other than annoyingly vague? ‘Of course not,’ you think. ‘That’s why she’s your best friend.’ Your hair blows across your face and down your back in the wind. Tonks may have gotten a head start, but her broom is no match for yours and she’s already only a few feet away.

“So!” She yells over the wind. “I expect you’re wondering where we’re going!” “Obviously!” you shout, probably louder than required.

Tonks glances over her shoulder, watching you pull your broom up beside hers. “I’ll tell you, I promise, but I just want to hear your guesses first,” she says.

“What? No! Just tell me!” Hasn’t she already been infuriating enough for one night? She must enjoy annoying you. But Tonks doesn’t budge. Her (currently golden) eyes flick from the ground below to your frown. “Ugh,” you moan. “Fine. Is it another loose jarvey?”

Tonks rolls her eyes. “Not even close.”

“Doxy swarm?”

“Nope.”

“Dragons? Again?”

“Are you even trying?”

You huff. Your breath puffs out in a cloud. Tonks smirks at  you from her broom. “Is it something boring?” you ask.

Tonks looks affronted. “Of course not! Since when is anything to do with me boring?”

You nod. “Right, right. Is it…” Tonks looks at you, her eyes glinting with anticipation. “Smugglers?” you offer half-heartedly. You were running out of plausible ideas.

“Closer,” Tonks prompts. “Try thinking of a specific smuggler, though…”

Your eyes scrunch in confusion. A specific smuggler? But who--

You gasp as realisation dawns. “No way,” you manage.

“Yes way,” Tonks croons. 

“There is no way you already found him!” You exclaim. If she meant who you thought she meant, well…

Tonks smiles, avoiding your wide-eyed gaze. You squint through your hair, which the wind is violently throwing everywhere. Tonks glances over at you. “Just to be clear,” she yells against the wind, “we are talking about the same person, right?”

“We’d better be,” you bark out. You need her to say it, to say the name you want to hear.

“Because if you’re wrong,” Tonks continues, “you’re in for a shock.”

“Just tell me who it is!” You cry. 

“I know the location of our oh-so-elusive dragon smuggler right now.” She pauses, letting her words soak in. “I know where Charlie Weasley is.”

“No way,” you mutter. “Tonks, you’re incredible.”

She tosses her pink hair over her shoulder. “I know, right?”

“But how did you find him? It’s only been three days!” You think back to the hours you spent hunched over reports and statements, hoping for a clue. How did Tonks already manage to find Charlie?

Tonks smiles sheepishly. “You’d be surprised what pub owners tell you if you look like the right person.” To prove her point, Tonks melts into Kingsley Shacklebolt, the minister of magic.

“And this random pub owner didn’t think it was odd that the Minister of Magic suddenly showed up at their door?” you ask sarcastically.

Kingsley-Tonks frowns. “Well, honestly, I think they were drunk.”

You chuckle. “Of course they were.”

Tonks melts back into herself. “I don’t know if you’re implying that I got them drunk, or that I couldn’t tell they were drunk. Either way, consider me insulted.” With that, she speeds away and beckons for you to follow.

Tonks flies for several minutes, occasionally pausing to check her direction, and you follow close behind. You know you could out fly her if you wanted, but she still hasn’t actually told you where you’re going. The big manors from your little street have long since vanished, now replaced by rolling hills. The sky darkens until the moon and stars give off the only light, but Tonks still heads quickly towards… Well, you’re not sure exactly. Towards Charlie, apparently. You don’t even have a single clue where you’re going until you spy the crooked tops of several tall, grey buildings. The moonlight gives the slanting roofs a dusty look and makes the windows seem fogged. ‘Gee,’ you think. ‘Looks like a criminal hotspot.’ That thought makes you realise; If Charlie is here, aren’t you going to have to arrest him? You’d forgotten about that. This whole time, you’d just been thinking of Charlie as your friend from school instead of a dragon smuggler. ‘That still doesn’t make sense,’ you muse. Surely if Charlie was a dragon smuggler, he’d have been able to do a better job than this, right? He knows enough about dragons to fill a whole library, and yet he still did such a half-hearted job?

“We’re here,” Tonks says, pulling you slowly out of your thoughts.

“Where is here?” you ask. The spindly buildings get closer and your heart beats faster. Assuming Tonks is right, every inch you fly towards these buildings is another inch closer to Charlie. 

“Uh,” Tonks mutters, “I think it’s called Warbleshire.”

“But you’re not sure?” You ask, sceptical.

“It’s a muggle town!” She cries. “I do not know the name of every muggle town in Britain! There’s just so many.”

You chuckle lightly to yourself, but the soft laughter doesn’t reach all the way into your eyes the way it normally does when you’re with Tonks. Instead, your stomach drops as you plummet to the ground after her, touching down on the brittle grass without a sound. You feel like your knees are made of lead, or maybe jello. Tonks clumsily dismounts her broom and looks off towards the muggle town. It’s only a mile or so away now. A mile from Charlie, you think.

Tonks dusts herself off. “That was not my best landing,” she smiles. When she looks up, she holds out her hand for your broom. 

“What are you doing with them?” You ask suspiciously. Last time you willingly gave Tonks your Firebolt, it ended up stuck in the spires of the Ministry’s Games and Sports section. 

Tonks just rolls her eyes. “I’m hiding them. Don’t worry,” she adds, seeing your expression, “you’ll get it back soon enough.” She shakes her hand impatiently.

You’re still skeptical, but any feeling of reluctance you’d normally feel is cancelled out by sheer anticipation. With a sigh, you thrust your broom into Tonks’s outstretched palm. She closes her fingers around the handle and gently tosses both her broom and yours into a nearby bush. “There,” she says, clapping her hands together, “all hidden." You roll your eyes. The ends of the brooms still stick out of the bush and the gold on your trim shines brightly in the moonlight. But for all intents and purposes, this will do. Or maybe you're just eager to find Charlie, you think. You’re practically buzzing from all the excitement inside the pit of your stomach, but either Tonks is unaware, or she enjoys watching you squirm impatiently. Finally, your friend smirks cheekily. “Alright,” she sighs. “I suppose I’ve kept you on the hook long enough.”

With a snide glance in your direction, Tonks starts walking towards the muggle village.

You hardly even notice the trek to the muggle town. Even in the dark, all you can see is Charlie as you remember him from your school days. Charlie in his Quidditch uniform, racing around the pitch, Charlie in the library, sleeping over a stack of books on dragons, Charlie, Charlie, Charlie.

“Y/N? Are you still here? Earth to Y/N!” Tonks abruptly slaps you across the face. 

“Hey!” You protest, jerked out of your thoughts. “Why did you do that?”

She grins wildly. “Because we’re here!”

Your friend motions behind her. You didn’t even notice you’d walked into the very back of the muggle town already. The building Tonks was pointing to was… seedy, at best. It was a pub with a long, swinging sign that read ‘The Jumping Jarvey’. The doorway was shadowed and there was definitely something about it that screamed ‘illegal’. Why would Charlie be here?

You decide to voice your thoughts. “Is Charlie really here?” You can’t quite keep the tension out of your voice. 

Tonks doesn’t seem to notice. She nods vigorously. “Oh, yeah. Definitely the right place.”

You sigh. “Okay then. Let’s go.”

With Tonks by your side, you enter the pub. The clientele inside the dilapidated structure are even more suspicious looking than the pub itself. You can tell just from looking that at leats half of them are witches and wizards. Their poorly concealed wands and long cloaks give them away almost instantly.

But everything else fades when you spot the mop of red hair at the bar.

Tonks looks at you, her eyes wide. ‘We’ve got him,’ she mouths. You send her a shaky thumbs up. As quickly as you can, you both head into the shadows of the back wall, watching your mark and never letting your eyes leave the tell-tale hair.

You stay like that for what seems like forever. You’re just beginning to wonder if you shouldn’t just arrest him now--because that’s what you came to do, after all--when Charlie stands slowly and heads towards the door.

You send Tonks a glance and nod towards your target. Tonks gets what you're trying to say immediately. In unison, you both follow Charlie inconspicuously. And by inconspicuously, you mean acting like two drunken witches stumbling out of the pub.

Exactly according to plan, Charlie suspects nothing and continues out the door. When he makes a sharp left upon exiting the pub, you and Tonks quickly follow him, staying silent and hidden in the shadows.

Well, not exactly silent.

Tonks trips over a stick about thirty seconds into your chase. Charlie whips around, wand in hand, red hair flying like fire, and you are quick to react. Before you even have time to think, your own wand is out and pointed at your old schoolmate. You hear yourself yell, "Expelliarmus!"

Charlie's wand goes flying from his hand and he stands rooted to the spot. You don't give him time to even turn his head to look for his wand before you pounce.

In one swift movement, your body is pressed against his back, holding his hands in place while you hold your wand point to his neck. "By order of the Minister of Magic, you are under arrest for illegal dragon smuggling."

You hear Charlie's ragged breathing slowly calm down, and for the first time, you get a good look at his face. His features are hard and jagged, and his face is covered in freckles. His chocolate brown eyes are wide and very convincingly shocked looking.

“What in-- wait- Tonks?!” he asks incredulously, finally recognizing your clumsy partner. 

Tonks smiles grimly. “Hey, Charlie. Long time no see. Though I do with it had been under better circumstances that we met again."

Charlie laughs. Wait, what? He's being placed under arrest, and he thinks now is an appropriate time to laugh? "Whew," he breathes, "and here I was thinking I was in trouble. Surely you know I couldn't have done what they're all saying I did! So can you just tell your friend to get their wand out of my windpipe and we can sit down and talk like people!"

You laugh. "Likely story."

Charlie struggles against your grip. You feel his body wriggling beneath yours and are instantly grateful for the darkness that hides your face. "Hang on," you hear him muse, "I know your voice... Oh! Y/N!"

You blink, shocked and impressed. "Uh, yeah. It's me."

Charlie breaks into another fit of laughter. "Whew! Man, I got lucky tonight! Arrested by two people who can't possibly believe I'm guilty!"

Tonks and you exchange glances. Charlie's laughter trails off. "Merlin's beard... you guys don't really think I smuggled that dragon into Britain, do you?"

You bite your lip, suddenly unsure of what to. You shake your head. No, no, no. Charlie is guilty... right?

Even Tonks seems unsure. She looks at you. "Y'know," she muses, "I hadn't really given it much thought, but that dragon Charlie supposedly brought in... well, it wouldn't survive out here in Britain. I don't think-"

"No!" You interrupt. "Tonks, he's lying! We've heard it a dozen times before!"

Charlie squirms in your arms, and suddenly his body twists around and his front is pressed against yours. Your faces are a breath apart, and you can feel his heartbeat pounding its rhythm into your own chest. "Y/N... Come on. You've known me since... well, forever! I would never do anything that would potentially hurt a dragon! You must know that's true."

The way he stares at you with his puppy eyes makes your knees weak, but you ignore the feeling. "I..." You trail off as you realize he's right. The Charlie you know would never bring a dragon somewhere it couldn't survive. But someone did bring the dragon in, and Charlie was your best--no, your only suspect. "Charlie, I want to believe you. I do." You look at the hopeful expression in his face and almost lose your resolve. How can one person possibly have so much power in one glance?

"But?" he prompts.

You struggle to find the words. "But... I just... we can't..."

"Oh, for crying out loud!" Tonks exclaims. "Y/N, I think he's telling the truth!"

Charlie grins at you, and in the darkness, you see the stars in the sky reflected in his eyes. He blinks once, and his long lashes brush against his skin. In barely a whisper, he asks you, "You'll help, right?"

How can one person make you so irrational?

Read Chapter 1 here!

Chapter 3: A White Lie (Coming Soon!)

[sashi-ya]

➡ 𝐂𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐁𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐬𝐨𝐦 𝐖𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 ~ 𝐊𝐮𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐤𝐢 𝐁𝐲𝐚𝐤𝐮𝐲𝐚 𝐱 𝐅! 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 [𝐂𝐡.7]

so, I know I took a LOT but since today is the baby's birthday... what's better than posting it today? please, enjoy this chapter that's the end's begin! I won't say much, but expect the unexpected! 🙊

tw: no nsfw! i think there aren't a lot of things to warn for this chap, because if I do i might spoil you! however, if you find something that triggers you please tell me and I'll add it! love u all 💖 also, I have inspired the "scientific" part in Masaki and Isshin's past. Also, it is not stated anywhere in bleach (yet) that pregnancy make mothers weak and lose their reiatsu , it's just a hc of mine! This story is about to end, so please, enjoy!

masterlist

A03

wc: 4.9k

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟕: 𝐁𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠

“I’m just tired, Byakuya… that’s it” you tell him, trying to ease off the fogginess that traps your mind. 

The ever-serious Shinigami tucks your hair behind your ear, being as subtle and delicate as always, with that caring aura that makes you weaker every time. “(Name), I’m not stupid. And I know you aren’t either… could this be…?” 

You widen your eyes, even if you have no energy to stand up or snap back, you quickly deny the pregnancy allegations. “No. Don’t you even mention it…”

The deep blue eyes of your ex-captain keep shining, like you are sure they never did. For the first time you see him smile widely, and his arms surprise you when they hug you tight. This feels nothing like Byakuya, and in fact, you are sure this is just a dream. 

“I’m so happy. I’m so so happy right now” he says, nuzzled on the crook of your neck. “I’m gonna be a father. I- I-“ 

The sudden reaction amazes you. Nothing could have predicted this man to get this happy because of a possible pregnancy. You never thought he would want a child, especially not after the way he treated you a few days ago. 

“I don’t know Byakuya… I- I’m not sure. I didn’t even think of the possibility…” you try to tell him, you have no proof besides your symptoms. Yet, deep inside, you wish there was a light of pure love and joy growing inside you.  

“Let’s go to squad 4! Captain Kotetsu will tell us!” Byakuya chimes, so excited and forgetting he said a few minutes ago that he wanted to protect you and for that you couldn’t go back to the barracks. 

As he lifts you up in his arms once again, he is ready to perform his flash step to get faster to the medical squad of the Gotei 13. But you stop him. 

Uncontrollable tears fall from your eyes, and your fists once again hit his chest. Even if this time your punches are weaker, like the touch of a feather on his skin, he aches. The pain in your eyes, the sloppy mourning… 

“Why are you doing this to me? You rejected me, you humiliated me, you looked down on me, you punished me in front of the people who should respect me�� you pushed me away from you, from my squad, from the people I have fought for almost 100 years… and now, you are acting like you are happy?” 

You can feel his arms going weaker, his strong hold becoming a shaky one. His eyes widely open, the shimmer fading. 

He slowly kneels on the ground, with you still in his arms. Looking up to the sky, the tears in his eyes become the perfect mirror in which the moon reflects. “You don’t know, you simply have no idea how much I’ve hurt myself telling you those words back then” he simply whispers. 

You scoff. Himself, he talks about himself. But what about you? What about your reputation and the pain he instilled in your heart? 

“You? You hurt yourself?” you mumble, using what’s left of reiatsu in your body just to tell him the things you need to. “I knew you would never love me. Or at least not the same way you loved Hisana. I know you would never, ever, be able to confront your family again because of me…” you keep going, realizing you should stop, but being unable to do so. 

The tears that fall from his cheeks wet yours as he can’t look you straight into your eyes. He keeps looking at the silver star above the sky, slightly trembling, vanquished, ashamed. 

“And I never asked for it. But you could have told me, we could have worked it out. If you had enough love for me, you would have told me that we couldn’t be together and I’d have respect it that… but you decided to hurt me… you killed my hea-“ 

“STOP IT, (NAME)” Byakuya suddenly screams. He rarely does. In fact, you have never heard him shout. You shut up, scared. The last thing that he is left to do is become violent with you. 

“I don’t- this is not- I-“ he stutters, he clearly can’t speak; tears have taken over, his throat is closed, his tongue is tied. “Don’t do this to me, please. Please (Name). I- I love you more than anything in this world, you simply don’t understand” 

“Love… me?” You can’t say anything else; you can only lift your hand to wipe the tears that pool on his long lashes. “As much as you have hurt me… I can’t afford to see you cry. I’m sorry” you whisper. 

Byakuya looks at you, pulling you closer to his body. He presses his forehead on yours. Both cry, and with no words, the pain, the mistakes, everything washes away. This time there is no rain but the one falling from the sakura trees surrounding you two. The pink petals form a halo of protection, just like Senbonzakura does, around two suffering lovers that couldn’t be away from the other… their souls couldn’t. 

“I only wanted to protect you. I needed all of them to believe you weren’t important to me. Please, try to understand… if they… if they thought you weren’t important, they wouldn’t hurt you.. .I’m sure of that!” he begs for you to believe in him. Byakuya clearly doesn’t know how to lie, so the only way he had to protect you was simply hurting yourself too. It’s not new, he has always been this way. 

You let a little smile take over your lips. Your dizziness can’t stop you from touching his pale countenance. “I love you more than anything in this world, Kuchiki Byakuya” you murmur, caressing his cheek with your thumb. 

He kisses your hand, pain but also relief could be seen in his face. He sits down, nesting you in between his legs. Sliding down his hand to your lower belly, with a soft smile. 

“I swear nothing is ever gonna hurt you two…” he says, sniffling. Byakuya is so sure you are pregnant, like the sky is above and the earth is beneath. 

You giggle… would it be that bad to indulge in the possibility? Your hand lands over his, as he traces little circles over your belly button. “I never thought you wanted this” you whisper, kissing after his cheek. 

“I never thought I would either…” he says; Byakuya may seem like a heartless soul, but he has the biggest one inside of his chest. 

You aren’t sure if you are growing inside you a mini Kuchiki or not, but the only idea of him being happy makes it wanna be true… 

Some minutes pass, but even if he would love to enjoy the moments of peace his sense of responsibility wouldn’t let his mind alone. “(Name), I can’t let you wait. You are really weak now; I almost can’t sense your reia…” 

Darkness again. You feel like floating, like a flame extinguishing.

…

“Doctor Yamada, please come in” 

You hear Byakuya’s voice echoing in your head; you ask yourself who is he talking to since he has never addressed Hanataro that way. And, in any case, where you are exactly. 

"That voice sounds too self-assured to be coming from Hanataro… which Yamada is this?" You mumble, too dizzy to recognize any face around you. 

Someone grabs your hand, and scoffs. "That's my brother, dear. I'm Yamada Seinosuke. The Kuchiki clan doctor" 

You gasp. That means you are then back at the manor… but why? You weren't supposed to be there after all.

"Now, allow me to assess you. I'm worried about your state. And don't worry, Kuchiki-sama is right by your side" he says, allowing you another person to grab your hand. And there is no doubt, that hold is from your delicate noble lover. 

You let the doctor work. He touches your belly, that should be enough for him to sense the growth of new reiatsu… but none of you, nor Byakuya were able to feel it. Instead, it was the constant loss of it what worried Dr. Seinosuke.

You aren't sure what's happening, but you trust them, nevertheless. The doctor keeps thinking and touches your stomach once again. He hums and seems troubled.

Byakuya clearly becomes impatient. A virtue he had managed, was to tame his burning soul but this situation has begun to break him. 

"So, is my w-... is (Name)-san pregnant, Dr?" He asks, stopping himself from calling you his "wife". Even feeling this way, you become sad… it breaks your heart, was he thinking of Hisana? 

Seinosuke covers your stomach with fine cotton sheets and crosses his arms. You can barely see and hear them, but the news are for sure clear to you; "(Name)-San isn't pregnant. She is, however, in terrible danger, her soul chain has been wounded but I don't really know how. This isn't a job for me, this is a job for the twelfth squad… or even… squad zero" 

You can hear Byakuya gasp. In less than a second him and your doctor are out of the room and you are left alone, dizzy and weak for some minutes. 

With almost no strength you take your hands to your lower belly. There was nothing growing there, and, your soul chain has been broken. But nothing matters to you the most, than to disappoint Byakuya… you couldn't give him something he never knew he wanted but that he did so bad, and even worse, he was now suffering the loss of another woman in his life. 

You close your eyes, allowing a single tear to fall from the corner of your eye and wait there for the unstoppable call of death. 

But, he won't ever leave you. No. 

"Let's go. Mayuri surely knows how to fix this" he says, lifting your almost limp body up in his arms. 

"I'm sorry, Bya… I wanted to- I really wanted it to" you mumble, but his lips against your forehead are enough to understand he is holding his tears up and nothing, absolutely nothing matters the most to him than you. Byakuya is only focused on something; saving your life. 

"Now rest. The moment you get better, we are getting married. I can’t stand not calling you my wife. We will have plenty of time to have children. As many as you want" his only words before you passing away with a smile in your face. 

You aren't sure for how long you've been asleep. It doesn't matter, honestly. You are sure there is nothing else for a soul when it perishes, so, in any case the pristine blinding lights of the roof above you, are proof you aren't dead. 

The lights, the sounds and the man beside you sleeping over the white sheets of a hard mattress where you lie. 

"B… Bya…" you mourn, trying to touch his head. You notice your hand connected to some little tubes, but you don't care. The soft feeling of your lover's straight hair and his reiatsu is the only thing you wanna indulge in now. 

He wakes up, abruptly and scared. His delicate hand grabs yours, he smiles for the very first time in days, so genuinely and warmly. 

"You are back! Are you ok? You want- you want water?" He chimes, and it's inevitable for you not to remember the time when this happened to him and you were right by his side as he woke up. 

You giggle. There has been a light all during the darkness of your absence, and it has always been his, right next to you; like a sun in the middle of the night, like the shine of a firefly as you walked through a dark, dark forest. 

"Wha…t happened?" You ask, once he has given you water, drop by drop. 

He sighs, it clearly hurts him to answer that. "You've been poisoned, (Name). And it's been all in front of my eyes" he mumbles, turning around.

Byakuya is clearly embarrassed, and judging by the way his eyes abandoned yours, he feels like a failure to you. But you don't think he is one, nor even that he should feel ashamed. He has only protected you, saved you.

"Byakuya, my love… are we still getting married after all?" You ask, to show him how much you love him and that, even if you don't remember half the things that happened, that promise kept engraved in your mind. 

He turns around and soon he kneels in the ground. Kuchiki taicho's shihakusho flows like the first day you saw him; dramatically and stylishly as he is. 

"You still want me to be your husband?" He asks, surprised and yet so happy. 

"Of course, you can't go back now. Plus, you said we are having as many kids as I wanted, well… I want five… no! Six! you know to match the squad number!" You joke, enjoying Byakuya's eyes wide in terror. "Just kidding, one would be enough" you laugh, turning around to the side where he is. 

The captain breathes alleviated, and smiles kindly with eyes as sweet as candy. "I- yes… but, you aren't fully cured yet" he says, tucking a hair tuft behind your ear. "You should rest more, you were…" 

"Death. Technically death. Well, double death. Welcome back to life, (Name)-san ♡~" a sweet voice, playful and well known, chimes. 

Urahara Kisuke stands right by the foot of your bed, accompanied by Youruichi Shihoin, that strong woman who has given you little Byakuya's red cord. 

You blink twice, and laugh at your future husband's eye twitching when Yoruichi annoys him. "He saved you, (Name)! You are lucky Byakuya-bo has such a strong reiatsu!" 

What did he do? And why and how you've been poisoned? But, most importantly, why is there Urahara and Yoruichi san here? 

The slam of a door opening scares everyone off. "STOP ACTING LIKE THIS IS YOUR LABORATORY, URAHARA KISUKE!"  

Ah… Kurosutchi Mayuri. His peculiar voice, and the tiny kid now following him everywhere he goes that once used to be the vice captain of the twelfth squad, Nemuri. 

While Kisuke lifts his hands in the air, with a silly smile asking for forgiveness, the eccentric captain of the scientific division comes closer. 

"I, Kurotsuchi Mayuri have saved your life with my advanced techniques!" He says, lifting his index up in the air. 

"And I helped ~ " Urahara adds, stating how clearly he is the real genius. 

In any case, you don't care. You only care about being alive and able to grab Byakuya's hand who isn't letting you go for anything in the world. 

However, the doubt of who have poisoned you still remains. And, you need to ask. 

"I'm deeply grateful for saving my life" you voice, trying to sit in bed as Byakuya helps you with utmost care. "But… what exactly happened to me?" 

While the two geniuses fight for who is gonna explain it first, and Yoruichi laughs, Byakuya sits by your side in bed. He looks at you, fixing his night sky eyes on yours. "As I said, You've been poisoned… and the ones who did it, were… my own family…" he whispers, with tears forming on the corner of his eyes. 

You gasp; how comes they did that? How? And why?

"We have had several outbreaks in our labs, and, one of them had to do with an ex officer stealing one of my poisons. I was developing a new drug where the opponent would die by losing reiatsu slowly but surely" Mayuri explained, as Nemuri seemed to write something on a butterfly stamped notebook. 

"And, as a result of that drug, your chain of the soul had been altered in a way where the bridges of its components were unable to fix back into the original state. So, we used a technique where Kuchiki-san's spiritual pressure would replace the reiatsu you were losing as we tried to flush all the poison out of your system" Urahara adds, bowing Yoruichi who becomes blushed at such words. (You wish you knew why, but you can imagine) 

Both scientists and the beautiful cat woman leave with smiles on their faces. They know you two need some time, and much to Mayuri's regret, he understands his lab has now turned into some kind of love spot. 

You salute them; happy and thankful. But, it’s not over. You wait for Byakuya to explain when did someone use that poison on you. And so, you look at him. He knows you are waiting for an explanation, and, him as the honourable man he is gets ready to give it to you. 

"The elders have hired that same ex-officer to be our chauffer and servant. I was ignorant of such fact, and I should be blamed. There was another complicit to all of this… the 14th place of my own division who dated him; and her sister, our maid… you have eaten the poison at some point" he explains, ashamed. 

"The pancakes…" you mumble. The times where you have eaten those, were coincidental with every person. And now, you understand. 

Byakuya stands up. His hand finally lets go of yours and with a severe look he tells you; "Now I know exactly what it was. You have woken up, a day before the trial. I wanted to use Senbonzakura, but I knew you wouldn't allow it" 

You blink repeatedly, he knows you more than anyone else. 

"Nor Dokuhebi. Somehow, since we are scientifically bonded, as Urahara Kisuke said, Senbonzakura and her had been… uh- you know…" he stutters. But It's surely what you would have thought it would happen… Your Zanpakuto had fallen in love with Byakuya's. It makes you laugh; your lover's rosy cheeks makes everything better. 

"If you are feeling better, I can take you there tomorrow. I want them to look at you and plead for forgiveness. But, knowing you, I won't allow you to forgive them. They will pay" he finally states. Byakuya can't stand people hurting his pride, his family. 

You nod; to be fairly honest… you want them to pay too. "I want them to pay… but what is gonna happen with the elders… are you still…?" You dare to ask, feeling as guilty as possible. Wasn't for you becoming someone in his life, this would have never happened. 

Byakuya points at his kenseikan adorning his beautiful hair. "I'm still the head of the Kuchiki clan. And, my grandfather wasn't aware of all this. The moment he knew, he asked me to come see you whenever you are ready, and only if you want to. He wants to apologize" he says, looking at you with great pride in his eyes. 

You extend your hand to him. You don't want him to leave, you only want him to be close to you. And you suspect the feeling floats both ways. 

He grabs it once again, kissing, like a prince, the back of your hand. "I'm ashamed of wanting you to be part of the Kuchiki clan after this… but, help me be different" 

"You have always been different, Bya…"

…

The trial is about to start. You have never been in one, nor even imagine how they were celebrated. In any case, Byakuya told you that if you didn’t want to attend it would be ok. The allegations, and the evidence were clear. However, the Kuchiki clan was devastated, broken.

A great shame has been brought to the family, and Byakuya was the one suffering the most. You, still weak but surely feeling better, grip tight to his shihakusho sleeves. For the first time, Kuchiki-sama is being seen with a woman by his side, publicly and most importantly after Hisana passed.

Every influential member of the noble clans is there, and the gossiping didn’t take any time to start. You felt a thousand eyes scanning your face, looking at you as If you were some kind of rat that had been poisoned for being like a plague. But you don’t care, as long as the man you love was right by your side.

“Listen, if you wanna go back home you just have to tell me. I won’t be able to accompany you since I have to stay, but Rukia and Renji will be with you” he says, assuring you everything will be ok. You nod, and even if your legs keep shaking, you feel secure next to him. Is not that you are afraid of the nobles, but you don’t want to keep creating problems for your lover.

As you are about to sit, on a stone-cold seat, surrounded by people whose faces are covered by white panels and everything is dark around, you feel a hand on your shoulder.

“Dear, (Name)-san?” a man asks.

You turn around to discover Kuchiki Ginrei right behind you. You stand up, bowing immediately before him. Is not that you owe him any respect, but you couldn’t think of a better way of showing Byakuya how you really care about his family. Even so after what had happened.

“No need for you to bow, my dear. I should be the one doing it. Please, take a seat” the old version of Byakuya, with silver hair and a funny looking moustache, says. Byakuya immediately pulls you down, softly but surely. He isn’t allowing anyone to hurt you, not even his grandfather… not again, at least.

Ginrei then, sits right by your side. His hands take yours, but his eyes are on his grandson. He wants to show him he won’t do no harm to you. However, Byakuya has trouble trusting him yet.

“My dear, I won’t ask for you to forgive them. I won’t even ask for you to trust me. But please, trust my grandson. Byakuya will always protect you no matter what. You are welcomed into our family if you are willing to give us a chance, those who have hurt you have been permanently kicked out from our clan”

You smile at him. That man have spent centuries carrying a ton of noble bastards on his shoulders, taking care of young Byakuya when his parents passed away, helping, and making him the way he is now. You couldn’t blame him, you really couldn’t. “It’s all good, Ginrei-sama. I’m really thankful for this, and I trust in your grandson with my eyes closed” you whisper, quickly, as the judges begin hitting their gavels against the old wood of “justice”.

The servant, the one who looked at you with despise while took you to Byakuya’s inn, after the visit to the Rukon-gai, still does. By his side, your officer. She, who had blamed you of trying to steal Renji’s spot in the squad, of being a gold digger. And her sister, the one who brought you breakfast that morning where Byakuya and you understood how much both love the other.

You are surrounded by the top authorities of the clan, and those who have degraded you are now facing you next to simple servitude. Byakuya takes your hand, squeezing it. His palm feels sweaty, and despite his stare being as cold and with superiority air, you get he is more than nervous.

You look at him, and he looks back at you. A little curl in the corner of your lips, your eyes fixed on his, the complicit stare of two lovers that need no words to say infinite messages. And your message says he must be strong, he isn’t in the wrong and there is no man who could question him right now; Byakuya is the one who holds the power now, and you, too. You have the power, and his heart.  

The trial doesn’t take much. Ginrei and Byakuya stand before the noble clans to address the official expulsion of the members who tried to kill you. The jury accepts the request and as soon as that’s settle, the nobles, the servants and ex officers are indicted of their sentence.

You take a moment to look at them imitating Byakuya’s stare. You have for once understood why he insisted on it. You realized that it wasn’t simply because he thought he was better than the rest, but because if not he would have been perceived as weak. And weakness leads to what happened to you.

However, this time you weren’t there to show strength, but, how different from there you are. Because, indeed, Byakuya and you are better than any of them.

“Oh, how the tables have turned” you think, watching with a deadly smile at the bitch who claimed you were a whore. You turn to Byakuya, and with that same smile you place your head on his shoulder. “He is mine, bitch. He has always been mine ~”

It’s over. They are in jail now. Outside of the Gotei 13 now. Out of Byakuya’s home, too. “We should go back home, love” your lover whispers softly, as you walk outside that cold chamber like place, grabbing his arm.

“Are you sure?” you ask, seeing how an old, deteriorated Ginrei walks towards you to match your pace.

“He is coming too, he wants to give you something” Byakuya says, with a loving smile as both stop to wait for his grandfather.

All the way home both men have been silent. It isn’t rare, the actual captain of the six squad is as reserved and calmed -in public- as his predecessor. It’s even a little funny to you to imagine that maybe Byakuya will look exactly like him in a couple of decades. Though you are not really sure about the moustache.

As you finally arrive at the overly huge manor of the Kuchiki, you feel like something new was just starting to bloom. A new way of managing the noble house who is entitled to tell the story of the soul society is about to be born.

Tea is served in the winter garden, five cups. Rukia and Renji have arrived earlier and taking a sweet look at the last buds closing the cherry blossom season, they wait for you. You smile at Rukia, who will maybe become your sister-in-law sooner than later. She smiles back at you. If there is someone who you don’t want to let down, is her. You feel like a potential threat to the memory of her sister and that should be addressed with her sooner or later.

“Captain, I like your new haori!” Renji chimes, pointing at Byakuya’s new attire. The captain, a fashion victim, is always modifying his white distinctive to match the Kuchiki pride with great taste. He is now wearing more blue and less gold, with a little hint of pink here and there. Maybe it is meant to match with his cheeks when he notices Rukia smiling at how he is holding your hand.

You both quickly let go, with shame, remembering days before when your vice-captain and her girlfriend (you all know, by now) found you two during a passionate love making scene. You swallow, Byakuya does too. But he ultimately is the one to speak to break the ice.

“Thank you, Renji. You have developed good taste lately” Byakuya says taking a swift look at Rukia. He then moves your chair so that you can sit, imitating his vice-captain doing the same for his sister with now blushed cheeks. Before the women sit, however, you wait for Ginrei to sit.

You take a quick look at the cup of tea in front of you. Is not that you don’t trust Byakuya, but… last time you took breakfast, you were severely poisoned. And he notices.

Byakuya’s hand passes before your eyes, with a delicate motion like a dance of flowers he grabs your cup. “Don’t worry” he states, taking a little sip from it. “It’s been tasted by me, all of them”

You gasp, you want to protest. Why would he do that? Why? because he loves you, because he is there to protect you all.

The afternoon goes by with simple chatter, warm ambience but with the impossible goal of relaxing yourself. Is not that they make you feel nervous, but this is all different.

Ginrei enjoys the taste of cherry blossoms tea while taking soft looks at you and Byakuya. He remembers the way his grandson asked, plead, and begged for him to let him marry Hisana, and realizes that this time there is still a chance to make things different… that Byakuya deserves happiness, and all the love in this whole world.

“Dear (Name), I’d like to return something to you” the old man says all of the sudden, making you all shut up immediately. He stands up with difficulty, but Byakuya helps him.

Ginrei takes something out of his pocket and asks for you to lift your arm. You do, knowing too well what he will give you; Byakuya’s mother’s bracelet. And indeed, the rose gold finest chain rounds your wrist, as if it was made right for you.

“It is a pleasure to give you back what my grandson has given to you. He chose you, and you have all the right to have it. Byakuya-kun, I hope you could forgive this silly old man” he says, owning a smile from the man who once was a little kid of big blue eyes and short temper.

Rukia and Renji giggle in the back, they are so excited and happy.

You feel as if the bracelet would weight a ton. The responsibility of having it around your wrist is what’s heavy, but it shines so beautifully, like your lover’s eyes when he sees you smile. “The pleasure is mine, Ginrei-sama. I will take care of this treasure to honour your son and his wife, the ones who created the man I love with all my heart” you state, taking your eyes from the old man to Byakuya.

Your captain breathes. He was probably nervous, maybe he thought you wouldn’t accept it. But in reality, what has him troubled are the next few words he needs to pronounce…

He swallows and kneels right in front of you. Rukia squeaks. Renji bites his lips not to scream excited. And you feel like everything around you slowly disappears… Byakuya is kneeling right before you, with a little box in his hands…

“Uh- (Name)-san… I- now that I have my grandfather, sister and vice captain’s blessings… would you… marry me?”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ💖

[jonathanbyersphd]

Hi hello, it's me again, happy WIP Wednesday here's what I have for my Bylerween fic so far I hope you like it:

For the record, Will thinks this is a terrible idea. And when his step-dad eventually comes to arrest them all he’ll say that he wanted no part in it, that all he wanted was to go out with his friends, he thought the worst thing they’d do was maybe smash some pumpkins but they'd be back at Mike's by nine playing D&D in the basement. 

B&E was nowhere near his Halloween plans. Yet, here he is outside the Old Creel house as Eddie Munson is regaling them with the story of the house's alleged ancient curse. He doesn’t believe in curses, he’s way too old for that, but he can’t deny there’s something odd about the Victorian. It’s almost like it’s watching him. The thought sends a shiver down his spine. Mike leans in closer and Will tries not to think about how beautiful he looks.

“You okay?” he asks in a low tone 

“Yea fine, just cold” Will answers 

Mike pulls off his leather jacket, holds it out for Will with a nod.

“No, thanks though” Will

“You sure?” Mike questions

“Yea”

They’re sitting on a derelict swingset in a park across the street. The hellfire club is gathered for their own ritual. When Eddie finishes with storytime he expects each of them to explore the house by themselves. After all, according to Eddie they can’t possibly survive the intensity of Dungeons & Dragons if they’re afraid of a little house. Will’s not sure how those two things are the same but he didn’t say that. Besides, Eddie promises that this is the last thing they’ll have to do to become official Hellfire members. But he’s really only here because Mike is here. Now that he’s paying closer attention, Mike also looks pretty disinterested in what Eddie has to say, twisting around on his seat and smiling to himself. It’s probably because they’ve both heard this story before, on Halloween night ages ago. And frankly, Jonathan told the Creel story better or maybe it was scary because he was nine. Eddie’s dramatics are too childish for what should be a somber tale.

“And then when Old Man Creel realized what he had done. He plunged the ax into his own chest ending his bloodlust” Eddie recounts with a theatrical flourishes, acting out Creel’s alleged final moments

“That’s not how I remember it” Mike snarks in a whisper before Will can say anything. 

Will snickers, and Mike beams at him. 

“Something funny Wheeler" Eddie interrogates 

"No not at all"  Mike lies, and Will has to hold back his laughter. 

"Great. Now as I was saying, Legend has it that Old Victor still haunts his once peaceful home searching for another victim to sink his ax into" Eddie finishes with an expression that Will guesses is supposed to be frightening but seems more cartoony than anything.  

"That's disturbing" Dustin shudders 

“It's bullshit”’ Will exclaims

“Oh really?” Eddie challenges 

Next to him, he can feel Mike tense slightly, readying himself to defend Will. 

“Yea really” Will continues “It was the kid that snapped and murdered his whole family”

“That’s where your wrong Byers” Eddie roars 

“Are you sure Will?” Lucas asks from his spot on the playground

“Yea, Jonathan said it was the kid” Will insists 

“Hate to break it to you pipsqueak but there’s no way a twelve year old could do that” Eddie laughs and the rest of his club joins in. Dustin, Lucas and Mike don’t move a muscle and Will is grateful for it. 

Will doesn't tell Eddie that once when Jonathan was twelve he hit Lonnie so hard with a baseball bat that he passed out just to protect him. For reasons unknown to him, Eddie doesn’t like Jonathan. Which is enough of a reason not to like him in Will’s book. But Mike, for whatever reason, worships Eddie. And he loves Mike. So now he’s forced to sit with Eddie at lunch, participate in the Hellfire Club, and be in this stupid,cold park listening to a fake story. And the only other reason he puts up with it is because at least they’re playing DnD again. But he’d much rather be in Mike’s basement with his friends playing video games and lamenting how they’re too old to go trick or treating. 

“Jonathan says that place isn't anymore haunted than the lab outside of town” Mike chimes in and Will perks up as Eddie rolls his eyes

“Didn't they used to do MK ultra experiments?” Dustin questions

“That's an urban legend, dummy” Lucas answers with a shove. 

“Well Byers” Eddie starts “Since you clearly aren’t afraid why don’t you go first” he goads 

“Fine” Will shrugs, getting up. 

Will can feel Mike watching him but he really doesn’t mind going first the sooner they get this over with the sooner he can go home. He picks up a flashlight from Lucas, passes a smirking Eddie and makes his way across the street. He hops up the stairs onto the porch, he can hear muffled talking from in the park but doesn’t think much of it as he pauses at the door. It, like everything else about the house, is old. Someone attempted to board it shut but it’s long since been pulled away. No doubt by some other mischievous teen fulfilling a dare to impress their friends. 

Will finds himself mesmerized by the stained glass window displaying a bright rose. Unlike the rest of the windows of the house, this one hasn’t been cracked or chipped away at. He wonders if it’s been reinforced somehow or if Hawkins kids, as obnoxious as they were, were at least sensible enough not to destroy the artwork. He reaches out for the doorknob and turns, but it doesn’t budge. Will scoffs at himself for thinking it would before bracing himself to knock the door in with his shoulder. 

“Will wait up” Mike calls, catching up to him

“Thought I was supposed to go alone” Will responds cynically 

“Oh c’mon what kind of guy would I be if I let my best friend get murdered by a ghost” Mike jokes 

Friend. The word linger in the crisp night air and Will hates himself for focusing on it. He convinces himself that he’s imagining the slight rose creeping into Mike’s cheeks. 

“Yea” he nods softly, turning his attention back to the front door. 

“Together?” Mike suggests 

“Together” Will agrees, as they both shove the old door open. 

[dc-sideblog]

Fic where the batkids realize that dropping a grandkid in Bruce’s lap completely incapacitated Batman until the child is taken away and they use this to slowly force Bruce into retirement

This starts with Mar’i, obviously, and Dick and Kori being busy simultaneously for random spurts of a few hours at a time and unable to hire a regular non-hero babysitter (siblings and teammates also have sporadic babysitting duty, depending on availability). And of course Batman doesn’t go out on patrol if he’s watching his granddaughter for the night. It’s hardly a big deal, his kids can handle the city on their own. But nobody realizes how far this goes until the Titans have a week long mission in space and Batman only refers cases out to others and advises on investigation during that time.

Jason starts kidnapping Lian and dropping her off at the Manor whenever he needs a few hours to do some shady shit without Batman interfering. Dick weaponizes his adorable daughter into enforcing Bruce’s bed rest after major injuries— after all, he and Kori are so busy, and Bruce has to stay at home all day anyway, doesn’t it make sense for him to watch her while they’re at their day jobs and on patrol? It’s just easier for everyone. It’s practical.

Roy rarely protests his daughter being kidnapped for the sake of emotional manipulation. He’s a single dad with a dangerous job and he needs the free childcare. There are very few scheduling conflicts here

Around this time Jake is born. At this point Bruce is fully aware he’s being played but there ain’t shit he can do about it. He loves seeing his grandbabies. He’s trying to get Lian to call him Grandpa too to piss off Ollie. This is also the perfect time for another grandbaby, as Mar’i is old enough to be in preschool now and thus needs less babysitting time.

Within the year Jason takes in a street kid, bout elementary/middle school age, firmly denies all Bruce Wayne syndrome allegations, and ends up dumping the kid at the manor most nights so he won’t be able to sneak out as “Blue Hood.” Jason is just about the only person who can’t appreciate the irony of this. Bruce does accidentally call the kid Robin once, and loses babysitting privileges for a month

The League of Assassins steals Cass’s DNA and clones her to try to create the One Who Is All again, but this time with deeper brainwashing and less escape avenues. They gave the baby to David Cain to try again. Cass takes extreme offense to this and rescues the kid, but now she has a little clone baby, and I guess she’s a mother now. She’s insecure at first but then realizes she can give this kid the childhood she never got, that her hands can teach gentleness instead of violence. She’s fairly insecure about whether she can be good enough for her daughter at first, and leans heavily on Bruce and Barbara for support

Jason takes in another street kid and he hates his family and their unoriginal teasing so bad. And then three months later, he finds yet another street kid. His oldest is literally counting down the days until he turns 18 and can start operating as a vigilante. Jason keeps find costume sketches around the house.

But if Bruce could handle the flying baby that shot fire out of her hands and couldn’t control her powers, then taking care of his other grandkids is a piece of cake, no matter how sneaky they are. This does require the full extent of his training, however.

Soon enough people haven’t seen Batman in months. Bruce waits until six months have passed without a single patrol or mission. And then he hangs up the cowl for good.

[nipahnan]

Long rant incoming so I’m sorry in advance!

I also apologize if I get angrier the more I write, this whole situation is so childish and I don’t understand any of these claims.

Please ignore if not interested!

So I normally wouldn’t respond to stupid things like this, but there are SO many false allegations in this comment that I can’t keep quiet because I’m hurt and angry…

-calling my room ugly:

valid. It’s completely up to someone’s preference if they like my room or not. Could you have been nice and just keep your opinion to yourself? Probably. Yet in the end, it’s my old room and I liked it, and that’s what matters. And yes I say my old room, because this is my room from 2022, back when I still lived in Germany.

-Making fun of, and not believing that I live in Japan, calling it nipon (it’s nippon btw) baiting:

I literally live in Japan, idk what else to tell you. „no way anyone believes that“ then how about you ask all my friends, mutuals, family in Germany and all the people that actually follow my other social media and stop making assumptions? :) My bio all over my social medias since 2023 has been „GERMAN living in Japan.“ (since you willingly ignored to mention the German while reciting my bio, I’m gonna repeat it as often as possible for you💕) My bio on tumblr also had that written down until October or November (I actually don’t remember the exact month anymore because tbh who the f*** even cares? But if anything I even have screenshots of that, so don’t even try and deny it) I changed my bio on tumblr because it looked too cluttered. It has literally been like a month of the change and I already have some stupid stalker take that to their advantage. My bio had „GER living in JP“ written for literally over half a year. What am I supposed to do if you see me change it right after you follow/stalk me? Also stalking my bio knowing immediately when I changed it? Insanely creepy behavior….Someone reeks of jealousy. Also if you would know even an ounce of Japanese, you would have seen that my bio STILL had my prefecture that I live in written down. You wanna see my 在留カード? Pics of my neighborhood and apartment? I can send it per DM if you want to. I feel like a lot of you people forget that when someone says they live in Japan, it doesn’t automatically mean they’re born and raised there. Because there’s a thing called ✨Immigration✨.

Never once in my life have I claimed to be Japanese, NOR have I ever said the room pics that I shared, are from my apartment in Japan. Because, newsflash! these pics are from my old room in Germany! If you would have taken even a tiny moment to google my username OR write me a DM, you would know that I’ve been sharing my room since around 2019/2020 when I lived in Germany. Yet you make stupid childish assumptions claiming that I don’t live in Japan because my room doesn’t look Japanese? Well how is it supposed to do that when, I am German, lived in Germany and it’s my old room in Germany? I never once claimed that the pics are from Japan! If anything my room looks western as shit, you see the brick wall behind my tv? No normal japanese apartment has that lmfao. You made the assumption just from my bio! (Yet again, my bio has GERMAN in it, so idk what the issue is??) All I claimed was that I live in Japan, because I do ever since I moved here in January of 2023. You seem to have some insane trauma from people in the kawaiicore/animecore/japancore community like voidchan, because they’re people that lied about everything in their life. Yet you can’t go around and assume that everyone is like that.

-half of my stuff is from Amazon.us :

first of all, how if I lived in Germany? If anything I would be using amazon.de in the first place, which I didn’t lmao. My stuff is from mercari, Aliexpress and stores from Germany. But yet again, nice assumptions from a very sad and lonely person.

-the monster high doll:

what about it? Am I not allowed to own a doll I owned since 2010? Funfact: Did you know monster high was also sold in Japan? That they even had an anime exclusively made for Japan? That they even have a doll of draculaura where she is an exchange student in Japan? Cool right?

Also sorry that my room doesn’t 100% reek of „I need to disregard the fact I’m a westerner and I can only consume things if they’re from Japan uwu“ like you want it to be so badly.

Regardless of that, yes, I own a monster high doll. Am I a criminal for that or something? I truly don’t get what the issue is that you specifically have to mention and hate on the doll? You reek of being a lonely and sad person with probably 0 friends if you actually act like this on a day to day basis.

Overall, we could start the discussion on what makes a room Japanese. There’s been a big increase of westernized apartments and houses in Japan, and not every Japanese room looks like a #japancore/animecore/itabeya room.

Imagine if Japanese people would exist that like and enjoy western cartoons/media. Oh wait, they do? My life has been a lie I guess…/j (this is a sarcastic joke, making fun of weaboos btw. don’t take it seriously, thanks)

But you probably didn’t know that because you’ve never seen a normal Japanese room nor interacted with a normal Japanese person in your life. Please grow up and get a hobby and stop stalking people on tumblr just because you have nothing else to do!

Yet again sorry for the rant on my account. But I can’t let childish allegations like this roam around if they’re not true. I’ll probably ignore any future allegations because I don’t understand why I would need to explain myself for things I didn’t do :)

Lots of love to all the people who support me and constantly share my stuff on any social media, love you all! 💕🫶🏻

[butwhyduh]

The Watchtower Office

Bruce Wayne/Batman : Jordan you’re going to have to stay late again. You misfiled your case from this week. If it’s not properly filed, it can’t properly be compensated by the government.

Hal: what? No it’s Friday!

Bruce: file it correctly next time. Also Monday we’re having a safety drill at 7 am sharp

Hal: for what?

Bruce: Uhh *checks clipboard* tornadoes *walks off*

Hal: why? We literally have a member who’s powers are tornadoes!

—————————

Barry: I hate staff meetings. That’s why I always volunteer to clean the office kitchen to avoid them. But sometimes, I wonder if I need hazard pay. Some of this stuff is literally glowing and if I didn’t have super speed, J’Onn’s lunch would have actually exploded in my face. It might be radioactive. The fridge is haunted.

————————

Clark: and that’s why I can’t miss Haybale day in Smallville. It’s a Kent family tradition. It’s also when we propagate turnips.

Bruce: *sigh* how many holidays can smallville have?

Clark: 43. Not counting loamy soil week.

—————————

Diana: I finally left Bruce take me on a date. He solved 3 murders.

—————————

Bruce: I went on a mission with Diana. She’s very affectionate to teammates. I’ll add that to her file. But the mission was a success and we closed 3 cases in one evening.

————————

Kyle Rayner/ Green Lantern: I caught Aquaman eating salt straight from the shaker at 3 am. He then went for jog. Is that an Atlantean thing?

—————————

Clark: Bruce talks about professionalism but yesterday he flipped me off under his cape so…

Clark: actually I just realized that was one of his kids.

Clark: under the cape….

———————

Oliver Queen/ Green Arrow: I’m in love with Dinah but how do I even ask her out?

Hal: just do it. Go out with me?

Oliver: *very loud across the office* DINAH, GO OUT WITH ME?

————————

Diana: I would never tell Bruce but he got the flu once and Nightwing took over for a whole week and honestly it was nice. We did mani-pedis after missions.

———————

J’Onn J’Onns/ Martian Manhunter: I think I understand the human mating patterns. The 4th season of 90 day fiancé is quite enlightening.

————————

Bring your kid to work day

Tim Drake/Robin: I’ve come to a hypothesis. I am in love with Superboy. But not Superman. Thus, I must be attracted to his Lex Luthor genes

(At same time)

Superman: hu

Batman: no

Kon Kent/Superboy: can we circle back to the love thing?

———————

———————

Another bring your kid to work day

Damian Wayne/ Robin: I have studied the patterns of Superman and Batman and have come to a conclusion that there is a sexual attraction between bat people and kryptonians. As you can see in this chart. Bruce and Clark, Jason and Kara, Tim and Kon, and…

Jon Kent/ Superboy: I will pay you to keep speaking

Bruce: I deny those allegations

Damian: denied. Too much substantiative proof

Hal: I thought this meeting was on safety

Barry: agreed. But now I’m invested and want to see how it turns out.

Hal: same

————————

Jason Todd/Red Hood/Former Robin: as you can see in this chart, villains use swear words at a much higher percentage than heroes. In conclusion, I must be a villain.

Bruce: and that’s the last presentation for bring your kid to work day. Thank you

—————————

Unnamed justice league personnel: *bored tone* this is a sexual harassment seminar to educate you on types and prevention. Sexual harassment stops with your help.

Clark: this feels pretty targeted

J’Onn: I agree. I don’t even desire humans.

Bruce: you both can look through peoples clothes and I don’t like it

Clark: it was an x Ray of your ribs!

[absolutepokemontrash]

If requested are still available, I would love to see a continuation of the Addams Family MC with the side characters. It will be interesting to see how they react.

I am so sorry for the unplanned hiatus! Work and school was beating me over the head! 

Here’s the post with the brothers!

Addams Family MC With the Side Characters!

Diavolo

When MC was first pulled into the Devildom, in all honesty, Diavolo thought they pulled down a demon who was on vacation. It’s just… MC dressed in such demonic attire! They looked great, don’t get him wrong, but he was expecting some… brighter clothing. With significantly less knives attached.

Once MC and Diavolo begin to build a rapport, the demon prince couldn’t help but wonder… was the human world really as similar to the Devildom as MC was saying, or did MC just… live a bit of a weird life? He’d have to check with Solomon later. (Not that the wizard lived a life that was any less weird…)

Poor Diavolo tried to take MC on a trip through the Royal gardens once to show off some of his unique plants he was sure MC would enjoy, but tragically, MC pointed out that they already had plants like this at their great aunt’s estate.

“It’s terribly haunted, constant screams of the damned, not quite sure who’s cries are from those still living… it’s a wonderful vacation spot! We should all take a trip there sometime!” “Oh… yes that sounds lovely…”

It’s not that Diavolo isn’t enthralled by the idea of hanging out with MC’s great aunt, it’s that Diavolo just wants to impress the human… we here at Stupid Headcanons Inc. hope that MC is willing to at least pretend to be shocked and amused by all the weird happenings in the Devildom… for Diavolo’s sake.

Barbatos

This might come as a shock for some but… this man is strangely smitten with this strange new human. Their aesthetic is absolutely on point, their mannerisms, so refined and elegant with a dangerous edge, like the intricately carved knives Barbatos keeps in his alleged torture dungeon.

He tries to deny his attraction (be it as a friend-crush or a romantic one), but he can’t help but try and… show off around MC.

Expertly pour them teas from all over the Devildom, share his knowledge and expertise on all manner of different subjects, maybe even… show off his bare wrists 🤭

It’s once Barbatos properly explains his powers that MC gets really into it.

“Oh, all that knowledge of times gone by and times yet to come… I bet it just drives you intoxicatingly mad, doesn’t it?” “…honestly, yes, sometimes. Knowing there is a timeline out there where I did not have the amazing fortune of meeting you of course.”

Barbatos expertly positioned a fainting couch nearby so if MC swooned too hard they wouldn’t fall onto the hard floors of the castle and get a concussion, but it wasn’t MC who ended up needing the couch. The human dreamily sighed and managed to just graze Barbatos’ bare collarbone as they pinned a black rose they found to his uniform.

The poor demon was passed out on that couch for an hour.

Simeon

This poor vaguely confused Angel… first he can’t figure out how the computer works, now he’s concerned that this human took to the Devildom a little too well. The dark clothing and almost Victorian mannerisms were captivating yes, but what if they influenced Luke and Simeon had to deal with his charge going through a goth phase???

But other than worrying about the fate of his little companion, Simeon couldn’t help but marvel at this human and all their strangeness. Though, he nearly had an aneurysm when he caught them cutting the petals off his flower displays.

“Please don’t ever do that again, MC…” “Why ever not? This place is far too bright and colourful.” “For your tastes maybe, but I prefer at least a few pops of colour here and there.”

While MC didn’t exactly understand why Simeon would want something as strange as colour in this perfectly dark and gloomy place, they didn’t want to upset their friend, so they complied. (Much to Simeon’s relief and appreciation)

A bosom friendship was formed when Simeon was trying to branch out into writing gothic short stories and MC arrived to help. Well, they didn’t help intentionally, really, they were just sharing anecdotes from their latest family reunion and Simeon just wrote that stuff down. MC has a… for lack of a better word, “colourful” family.

Solomon

Oh this guy has definitely become an honorary Addams at some point in history through virtue of just how WEIRD he is.

He’s the weird cousin of the family, MC knows him well. Where do you think the family got all their wonderful plants, pets and magical oddities?

The sorcerer is completely in phased by the family’s weirdness and goes out of his way to ask about all the fun things they’ve been up to while he’s been too busy to visit.

“Well, not much has happened in recent years, Solomon. Though, we did dance the mamushka at the last family reunion.” “You did?! Damn, I wish I could have been there. I was the best at that dance, you know.”

Once MC can start using magic, he demands to be in charge of all of their lessons, he’s family, after all!

Luke

MC is single handedly responsible for Luke’s goth phase.

It happened suddenly and without warning… just… one day MC and Luke went out shopping, and Luke came back dressed like a little gothic Victorian boy with his hair slicked back. (He looked like a tiny blonde Gomez Addams to be honest. Very cute 10/10)

Simeon passed out (tragically not near any fainting couches). Solomon applauded. Asmo took a million pictures.

At first though, Luke thought MC was another demon. Their sense of style and general demeanour really freaked him out, and on more than one occasion, he actively ran away. MC didn’t mind, they were used to inspiring fear in the populous 🖤

But one day, Barbatos invited MC to one of the baking lessons, and Luke realized that this human was alright. Sure they were a little weird, but who wasn’t? And the cookies they made were really really good! They were shaped like little cobwebs :D

[bonky-n-steeb]

𝐵𝑅𝐸𝐴𝑇𝐻𝐸

𝙿𝙰𝚁𝚃 𝙾𝙽𝙴

𝘿𝘼𝙍𝙆!𝘽𝙐𝘾𝙆𝙔 𝘽𝘼𝙍𝙉𝙀𝙎 𝙭 𝙍𝙀𝘼𝘿𝙀𝙍 | 𝙈𝙊𝘽!𝙎𝙏𝙀𝙑𝙀 𝙍𝙊𝙂𝙀𝙍𝙎 𝙓 𝙍𝙀𝘼𝘿𝙀𝙍

𝗦𝗨𝗠𝗠𝗔𝗥𝗬: Your life is as good as it gets. The perfect husband, the perfect daughter, the perfect job. But what you are unaware is that your husband is a deadly assassin and your long-lost friend, now a fearsome mob boss is hell bent on getting you back. But what you don’t know can't hurt you, right?

𝗪𝗔𝗥𝗡𝗜𝗡𝗚𝗦: psychological disorder, PTSD, domestic abuse, yandere, obsession, violence, cursing. If you find any of this triggering please DNI. Also inform me if I left something out.

ᴛʜɪs ɪs ɴᴏᴛ ʙᴇᴛᴀ ʀᴇᴀᴅ, sᴏ ᴀʟʟ ᴍɪsᴛᴀᴋᴇs ᴀʀᴇ ᴍʏ ᴏᴡɴ

Oh, lawd! i have to post everything again! Send me all your energy. If you wanna be tagged, just inform me!

Also, I’ll be changing the story by a little, (or by a lot, idk) from my previous version.

You were feeling like John Travolta from the music video of Stayin’ Alive. Vibing to your own rhythm, living your own freedom. Attending college miles away from your hometown, you were the captain of your ship. Though you loved your parents more than anything, you were glad for the freedom granted upon you.

Your Freshmen year had just begun and you had already made a few friends. But what you didn’t want to accept just yet was your crush on one of them, Bucky. With his steely blue eyes and boyish charm, even a goddess might fall for him, and you were just a mortal. You were simply happy with being friends as you believed he would never like you and well, a little crush never hurt nobody.  

Completing your shift in a local bookstore, just outside the campus, you were walking back, lost in your own thoughts. What caught your attention was a group of howling high schoolers; from the look of it, they were barely a year to two younger than you. A group of tall and popular kids were bullying a skinny, helpless dude; ufff the usual cliché you thought to yourself. What you failed to notice though was his bleeding nose.  

You were a kind soul, always helping others, but you were no fool. All alone in an unknown town, you weren't going to confront the burly teens who were twice your own size. After giggling and cracking some stupid jokes on the poor dude trying to impress a girl, they left him and that’s when you noticed all the blood. You quickly crossed the road and walked towards him. He seemed smaller than he was as he was crouching down and trying to rub all the blood.

“Hey! Pinch your nose, don’t disturb it by rubbing.” you said while bending down. “Uhh, okay... thanks!” he looked at you with big doe eyes and you were utterly mesmerized by the blue oceans he had for his eyes. “Do you.. Do you need something else kid? Where do you live?” you asked giving him a candy and your water bottle. “I’m no kid!” he exclaimed and you flinched.  

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you. You are helping me and here I am shouting at you.” You could clearly see remorse in his eyes and you wondered why would someone hurt him? “yeah, yeah.. It's Okay... now have this candy, the sugar will help you feel better.” you said with a soft smile. “thank you so much... and by the way I live two streets across. I mean I can go by myself, I'm a grown-up.. But...” he trailed off and you helped him get up.

“I’m Steve” he tried his best to smile and you followed by sharing your own name. And with that his chatter train began, he explained that he was just trying to help another girl getting bullied, when the bullies decided to change their target and chase Steve instead.

“you should wear your own mask first and then help others wear theirs.” you quipped and instantly bit your tongue. “Hmm, what?” he asked genuinely curious. “what I meant is that you did what is correct and very brave, but sometimes you gotta think for yourself too. But these are just my thoughts.” you shrugged. “I’ll remember that.” he said with a genuine expression. And after a million thank yous he finally went in his house. By the size of his house, he seemed rich and you wondered maybe this wasn't that cliché.  

☮︎︎☮︎︎☮︎︎☮︎︎☮︎︎

The next day, you were walking back the same road, when you thought of Steve. He really was a kind and sweet person. This world needed more of people like him. And just then you saw him smiling brightly and waving at you, his nose bandaged. He had a huge box in his hand.

“Heyyyyy! Thank you for helping me yesterday. So I just... kinda got this as a ... a token of appreciation. I considered you might like donuts, so I got you this.” He said rubbing his nape. His cheeks had become so red he looked like a ripe tomato. “well, if you haven’t already given me diabetes by saying so many thank yous, after eating sooo many donuts I’ll surely get it.” At that you both chuckled and the atmosphere became lighter. As you picked a donut, he looked at you with such admiration you thought you would melt then and there.

Suddenly with a stern expression you asked “what if it’s drugged?” His eyes widened and he stuttered, “I... I would never do that ...” he looked down and you thought he might cry. “hey waittt.. don’t get so sad.. I’m sorry, I’m so so sorry. I was just joking. I have this really bad habit of saying things when I shouldn’t. God I just ruined everything.” You just made a mental note not to joke around him, he seemed to be quite emotional. Though it was going to be difficult to tame your tongue. “don’t be. I just take things too literally.... anyway let’s have some donuts what say?” He said with such shine in his eyes you wondered whether he was sad just a moment before.

You both walked up to your university campus, munching on donuts. You both shared things about yourselves. You told him how you were passionate in becoming a doctor. He on the other hand talked about his struggles in studying. “will you help me? You are so smart and bright, will you help me study if I have a doubt or something?” he asked giving his big doe eyes.

You weren’t going to agree at first, you had just met him a day ago. But after looking in those calm blue pools of his eyes you agreed. Seeing the joy on his face, you wondered whether he just won an Oscar.

What you didn’t know was that Steve had already fallen in love with you, yes love, he was convinced that you were the one for him, his one true love. Not a moment had he been able to think of anything but you since he had met you. You were everything he needed and wanted and much more. He was simply desperate to spend more time with you.

☮︎︎☮︎︎☮︎︎☮︎︎☮︎︎

It had been around six months since you met Steve. Over the time you two had turned out to be best friends. While Steve had fallen even more in love with you, you had fallen hopelessly in love with bucky. While you always told bucky about Steve and vice versa, you never confessed to Steve about your love for Bucky, thus furthermore increasing his hopes. You desperately wished to make Steve and Bucky meet. They were two important people in your life and you more than anything wished that they got together well.  

Today was the day when you decided to arrange a small meet and greet at the park where you and Steve met every day. You and Bucky walked together towards the tree where you usually sat with Steve waiting there for you. You knew both would like each other, but somewhere deep within your gut you were getting a not-so good feeling about this.  

Steve’s eyes lit up seeing you but as they turned to Bucky, it felt as if all the energy had been sucked out of him. You didn’t like that one bit. “Bucky!?” Steve exclaimed in half disappointment and half fear. “You both... you both know each other?” you ask bewildered. You tried chuckling to lighten the mood but by the looks of it they were sworn enemies, but you prayed that you were wrong. “yeah, we know each other a little too well... Uh... We were good friends once.” Steve quietly admitted.

All this time Bucky had his jaw clenched, dragging in a deep breath he began. “I knew it! I knew it would be you, you little fucker! You want to have everything don’t you? Goddammit! I had this feeling it was you but I thought it was too much of a coincidence, but no. fate had to be so cruel.” you were shocked to see Bucky's sudden outburst. You wondered what conspired between the two, as either hadn’t ever mentioned the other.  

You were snapped out of your thoughts with Bucky calling your name. “let’s go. I don’t want to see him even for a minute more and neither do you.” Bucky started pulling your hand but you stopped him “Bucky no. I guess you have some misunderstanding; Steve is a good person. And you don’t get to tell me who to talk to and who to not.”

Suddenly Bucky turned back to Steve, anger written all over his face. “You didn’t tell her, huh, did you? Don’t worry I'll tell her. Steve is the son of Joseph Rogers and he is the freaking Don Corleone of this area. Do you know how my father died? Steve’s father had him killed just because unknowingly he provided shelter to his father’s fugitive. Steve just pretends to be a caring, emotional person but he is a snake behind that mask, so is everyone in his family.” towards the end Bucky was in tears and you were in utter shock. Now that you tried to remember, Steve never really did tell you much about his family. And the fact that Steve wasn’t denying any single allegation made you want to puke your guts out.

“You have taken too much from me. But not this. Not her. Not the woman I love more than anything.” Bucky said it out loud in the heat of the moment. You were too dumbstruck to even blink. Did Bucky just confess that he loved you?  

Bucky turned to you and held your arm with such softness you wondered if he was just now screaming his lungs out at Steve. “I know I can't tell you who to be with, and I promise I never will in the future, but trust me you want to be caught up with him or his family. And still, if you choose him, well then, I can’t be with you.”

You knew you had to make a choice then and there, there was no going back, and you chose Bucky.

[lem0nademouth]

i did call u an antisemite considering that’s what you are! i’ll give u a little walkthrough if you need help understanding!

1. Let’s start with the raping civillians allegation which has been proven to be untrue, although antizionists responded to those findings by insisting that IDF soldiers weren’t raping Palestinian women because they’re racist (can’t make that one up) so. Take that for what you will.

2. Don’t for a fucking second think I’m going to fall for the misinformation you bought into. We know unequivocally that Israel did not bomb a hospital - in part because the damage was done to the parking lot next to the hospital. And once we had that info, the body count began dropping by the hundreds. Again, take it for what you will!

3. History didn’t start in 1948. If you think Hamas’ actions are a proportional response to Israeli occupation, then by your logic, Israeli aggression is a proportional response to literal centuries of colonization and genocide on that very same land. I don’t think it is, but again, your logic not mine.

4. I’m assuming you’re referring to the Bosnian genocide. The slaughter of Bosniak men and boys is unacceptable as is any form of genocide. But do not wave around a three day massacre as if it’s at all comparable to a four year organized, international campaign that killed over six million Jews and four million non-Jews, and displaced millions more. Though I doubt you knew any of that to begin with.

5. Comparing Jews to Nazis is, get this, antisemitism! Jews know better than anyone what actual Nazis are like. Actual Nazis use babies for target practice. Actual Nazis operate on fully conscious people just to see how long it takes them to die. Actual Nazis rip the teeth out of your mouth before they execute you. Actual Nazis hunt you like wild rabbits for fun. And no, I’m not making any of this up. Don’t tell me anything about who is and isn’t a Nazi.

6. Eretz Israel is indigenous Jewish land whether you want to believe it or not, so by definition, it literally cannot be a colonial state. And according to you, decolonization is inherently violent. I don’t believe that, but once again: your logic.

7. Palestine was forced to allow Jewish refugees because by denying their entry they were denying indigenous people access to their indigenous land, not to mention the refugee crisis caused by every other fucking country not allowing Jewish refugees entry. Because Palestine was still the British Mandate, the UK could make them do whatever they wanted, and in this case it was accept the Jews that England didn’t want.

8. I have yet to endorse violence of any kind. In fact, I haven’t even said a word in favor of the Israeli government. I asked where in the world you think Jews could possibly be from if it isn’t Israel and you decided that was the perfect opportunity to try to guilt trip me with the genocide that killed half my family. That’s a you problem.

I’ve yet to be convinced you care about anything other than seeing the Jewish population dwindle in to nonexistence. Which, as far as I’m concerned, makes you an antisemite.

I’m curious to know where goyim think the Jewish people are from. Colonizers have to have a mother country from which to colonize; what country would that be? I’m being so genuinely serious, if you don’t want Jews in Israel, where do you want us to go? Or do you just want us dead?

[theseshipsshallsail]

Chapter 1

The revelry from the bookstore leaves a heady buzz of la libertà flowing through their veins, and as the crescent moon climbs higher in a pin-pricked sky, Rome’s labyrinthine streets bear witness to the loss of their remaining inhibitions. Drunken kisses give way to drunken dancing - and unfortunate drunken vomiting - but the ancient cobbles are their compass on this ferragosto evening, steering them back to the complicit safety of their hotel. 

The stale scent of sex still lingers in the room, yet tempted as they are to add to it, the prospect of their imminent separation is a sobering force. Elio’s body is heavy with exhaustion. The oppressive tightness in his chest magnified by all that he’s trying to ignore. Their time is borrowed. Soon, all of this will be naught but memory. The man beside him nothing but a ghost. Haunting his every step with visions of a life denied. A future obfuscated by what-ifs and maybes.   

He refuses to sleep, however. Refuses to sacrifice a single minute to unconsciousness in spite of the grappa’s siren call. Absurd though it is, a part of him dreads waking up alone. That Oliver will disappear like a thief in the night - taking what’s left of his shattered heart with him. His guards are down - all his pretences stripped away - but here they are, stretched out on a too-small bed, solemn fingers caressing familiar skin. Worshipping each other by words, if not by the flesh. 

And it isn’t easy. Of course it isn’t. Elio’s an individuo reservato. A trait he’s uncomfortably aware of. But he can’t let that stop him from spilling his innermost thoughts. From divulging the things he wishes he’d done differently. Or not at all. In some aspects, he’s sure he’s repeating himself, but there’s just so much he needs Oliver to hear. Things he never dared tell him previously - never deemed vital - when the end of their summer idyll was a nebulous concept.  

Like how he’d leave the adjoining door open at night, hoping beyond hope that Oliver would walk through it. Or that afternoon at the tennis courts, when he’d recoiled from his massage for fear of leaning into the frisson of excitement. Needs him to understand his visceral reaction the morning after they first slept together. The crippling anxiety that twisted his intentions, necessitating a hasty - if short-lived - retreat. Wants to beg him not to forget. To remember everything. So that when next he tastes the salt-tang of the ocean upon his lips, the sweetness of apricot juice beneath a cloudless yonder, a piece of Elio - nevermind how fleeting - will slip into that parallel life, too.

All his secrets. 

All his worries. 

All he’s put off for later. 

A futile notion, admittedly, now that there is no later. 

No more chance for postponement. 

Thankfully, he isn’t the only one speaking, and Oliver lays his own regrets out like a hand of cards whenever he stumbles into a tongue-tied silence. His forearm is slung around his waist, their legs tangled at the knees, and Elio drowns in his eyes as he recalls the steely glares that once pierced him to the core, but which he now appreciates were a means of self-defence. An attempt to stave off the unavoidable.

“Did you mean it?” he whispers, twisting Oliver’s Star of David between his fingertips as he burrows into the sticky warmth of his neck. “When you said you’d been happy here?”

“How can you even ask me that?” 

“How can I not?” Elio replies, failing to control the tremor in his voice. “You tried to keep your distance when you arrived. It was me who sought you out. If I hadn’t pushed so hard -”

“I’d have probably spent ten more days kicking myself for my cowardice,” Oliver tells him, dropping kisses to his knuckles as though they’re something to be cherished. “Wearing holes in my espadrilles… trying to hide a semi each time you passed by in those swim trunks...”

Elio snorts. “The feeling’s mutual, mon ami.”

“So we’re both idiots, then?”

“Well… one of us was being purposefully difficult...”

“Goose,” Oliver growls, and Elio giggles despite himself when he’s tickled without mercy. “I’ll show you purposefully difficult.”

It soon devolves into a childish wrestling match, Elio’s wrists pinned above him as Oliver scrabbles along his sides, leaving him bow-taut and winded. “Tutto apposto! Enough!”

“You give?”

“I give,” he says, lungs heaving in his chest. “Dio… I shouldn’t have asked.”

“Nonsense.” Oliver rolls to the side, tipping his chin up to better meet his eyes. ”This is new to us both. It’s only natural to have doubts.”

Elio huffs. “Doubt is the father of inventions.”

“And may I ask what you’re inventing?”

An awkward shrug. “Nothing,” Elio says, afraid his misgivings will lead them down a destructive path. “And everything. You know how my brain works.”

“I do, yes.” Oliver brushes a thumb over his bottom lip. “Though for my sins, I’ve yet to find cause for complaint.”

“Déviant.” 

“Takes one to know one.”

Elio nips at the tormenting digit, not quite ready to let the subject go. “I want to hear it,” he murmurs, teeth scraping the nail. “I think I need to hear it.”

“Elio…”

“Just tell me,” he insists, and sighing, Oliver pinches the bridge of his nose. 

“It’s complicated.”

“Isn’t it always?” 

Impatience flares at the return of his evasiveness, and the remorse in Oliver’s gaze is immediate. “We never talked much about my family, did we?” he asks, and Elio shakes his head, shuffling closer as Oliver draws a shuddering breath. “My parents, they’re.... well. To describe them as traditional would be a kindness,” he continues. “Our relationship has been strained for years, but they have certain... expectations, I suppose. For my future, specifically. You know how it is.”

“Do I?” Elio asks, stiffening as I'm sure I'll pay for it somehow echoed from the not so distant past. 

The implication is clear, and maybe there are razor blades in his expression, because Oliver’s own turns instantly apologetic. “I guess not,��� he says, sliding a conciliatory hand to his hip. “Do you have any idea how lucky you are?”

Elio frowns. “In what way?”

“With your folks,” Oliver explains. “My father would cart me off to a correctional facility.” A beat. “He still might.” 

“Only if he finds out,” his traitorous mouth blurts before his alleged genius can catch up, and Elio’s heart sinks. “But he won’t, will he?”

It’s less a question, more a statement, and Oliver’s jaw clenches as he stares at him in silent concession. “I wish things could be different.”

“I know,” Elio says, the words braver than the sentiment behind them. “Me too.”  

But the universe isn’t that lenient. Like Icarus, they’ve flown too near to the sun, and the consequences of such defiance will see their wings clipped once they crash back down to earth. He’d cautioned himself on the journey south to prepare for the blow. Peered out the grimy window of the direttissimo, knowing that when he next stands on the platform he’ll be alone. That he’ll hate it. Those rehearsals, it seems, have done little to dull the pain of what’s to come, and latent superstition has left him fumbling in the dark, regardless.

“E’ la vita,” Elio says, resorting to self-preservation as he dredges up a smile - the over-bright, false one he’s perfected through years of dinner drudgery. “Why risk it all for a bit of fun, right?”

“Don’t do that.” Apparently Elio’s not the only one who can see through a facade. “You mean more to me than some fling, and you know it.”

“But -” 

“No. Hear me out.” Earnest, Oliver smooths the hair from Elio’s temple. “These past six weeks… I don’t know how to describe how important they were to me. The freedom. The acceptance.” His throat bobs in the grey strokes of dawn. “You.”

“Me?” 

“Us.” Oliver fidgets with a loose thread on Elio’s shirt. “I meant it,” he mutters at last, winding an errant curl around the index finger of his other hand. “I have been happy here. I’ve been happy with you.” He hesitates. A quick flash of indecision. “I’m not sure I was ever really happy before you.” 

“Please don’t say that.”

“It’s the truth.”

“Per carità! That only makes it worse,” Elio says, whirling away to hide in Oliver’s collar. The sour musk of sweat is soaked into the material, and he inhales deeply, hoarding every piece of him while he still can. “You are the very best parts of me,” he confesses, lifting his head. “I don’t know what I’ll do when -”

“Hey…” Oliver’s grip tightens. “Didn’t we go over this? You’ll be -”

“Fine. You said.”

“Clearly it bears repeating.” 

Elio touches his face. Watches the ripples of emotion spread out like a pebble cast into the lake. “And you?” he returns, recollecting that night on the rock. His naivety in presuming Oliver’s ghost wouldn’t always be staring out at the horizon. Rodin’s Thinker clad in billowy cotton. “You’ll be okay?”

A breath. “I’ll be okay.”

Elio’s not sure which of them he’s trying to convince, so he kisses him gently in lieu of examining it further, his stomach flipping when Oliver pulls back with an air of exquisite softness. “What time do we need to be at the airport?” he asks, seeking sanctuary in distraction. “You have your passport, sì?”

“I do,” Oliver says, studying him carefully. “The plane leaves at noon. But don’t feel you have to -” He stops. Swallows. Tries again. “You don’t have to see me off. Not if you don’t want -”

“I want.”

“Elio -”

“Non essere ridicolo. I’m coming,” he tells him, fighting a shiver as the cool breeze from the window brings goosebumps to his skin. “Of course I’m coming.” 

The relentless tick of the clock rings loud in the sudden silence, and Elio raises up on his elbow, only for Oliver to cup his cheek before he can turn towards the wall. 

“Don’t look,” he whispers, sounding choked as he double checks the time on his watch. “It’s ten minutes fast at any rate.”

“Ten minutes?” Elio laughs. Slightly unhinged. “What difference does that make? Ten? Twenty? You still have to leave.”

He detests the unspoken word that hovers between them. The entire phrase a sullen admission of weakness: you still have to leave me.

“Don’t think of it like that,” Oliver murmurs, one hand stroking the base of his spine. ”We have a few hours yet.” 

Elio sniffs. “Not like they’ll matter tomorrow.”

“Maybe not. But they matter right now.” Oliver nudges their foreheads together. “Every second, Elio.” 

“Every second, Elio,” he echoes numbly, if only to call him by his name one last time.

He’s shaking, he realises, though in all honesty he doesn’t care that his vulnerabilities are on display. That Oliver can see how lost in him he really is. That the situation is gutting him, and he’s unable to stop the bleeding. His chest feels concave. The space below his ribs too small to contain the sheer need and protectiveness that washes through him. He wants to shelter Oliver from the storm that lies ahead. To house him beneath his breast where the burdens of this world cannot touch him. Encapsulate everything Oliver is within the confines of himself, meagre as those confines might be.

But what can he do? Implore him to stay? Ask him to give up his doctorate? His career? His responsibilities? And for what? A life in the shadows? Always looking over their shoulders. Always that sense of shame.

He thinks of the pink and yellow lilies that bloom in the giardino back in B. The delicate petals that unfurl for such a brief period of time. There’s something recherché, he knows, in such transitory beauty, yet Elio’s never lacked for stubbornness. Oliver may believe his story is already written - that their destiny is forged in stone - but no one’s ever survived a freefall by continuing to spiral. 

For something so tragically temporary, their bond has left a permanent mark. And Elio? He wants to beat his fists against this odious ending until they’re bloodied and raw.

[cabensonsgirly]

👼These Violent Delights Have Violent Ends (Multi-Char)[NSFW]👼

Multiple SP characters x fem!reader

Xandra, Billie-Dean, Ally Mayfair, Anne Gillette, Audrey Tindall, Wilhemina Venable, Ellie Staple, Diane Sherman, Mildred Ratched.

👼Slice 2👼

Co-authored with @billiedeannovak ​ even though she’ll deny it.

👼Wordcount: 1530👼

👼Published on AO3: Read Here👼

👼 Taglist: @mrsdeanhoward @okpaulson 👼

👼 Content (some for later parts): Super Au, dubious consent, slow-burn, manipulation, face-slapping, drug-use, alcohol, smut, cunnilingus, strap-on, cum, choking, degradation, sex-work, court, bruises, spit, mommy kink, daddy kink, humiliation, public sex/teasing 👼 

👼She rolls her eyes and lets out an annoyed sigh, she was not interested in this man in the slightest and he wasn’t even that good in bed, it was his money she was after, and she would leave the relationship with all of it after they get married. He had been talking about marriage for the past few months seeing as they had been together for a few years, completely unaware of how disinterested she actually is. Anne was not a woman to fall in love, nor was she the type of woman to settle down and get married. 👼

Rita leads Anne from the courtroom, the pair laughing quietly and talking amongst themselves as they made their way to an elevator. Rita gestured for Anne to enter before she went to herself, “Rita!” the older woman fights the urge to roll her eyes, telling Anne where she was to go and how to get there before she closes the elevator door. She turns to face the woman who yelled her name “Oh what a pleasant surprise, Detective Benson. What do I owe the pleasure?”

Olivia shakes her head, jaw set firm as she stops in front of Rita “What the fuck are you doing? The evidence shows that she was the one that set the crime up! Who cares if Prestwick was blackmailed!? Gillette killed her damned parents and you know it. Just because you have some vendetta with my team doesn’t-“

Rita laughs, shaking her head with an amused smile on her face “How many times must we do this, Olivia? It is my job to defend people regardless of what they do, just like it is your job to investigate crimes ethically. I know I’m doing my job to the books; I can’t say the same about you. My advice, lie back and pretend like you’re enjoying it. You’ll last longer.” She steps into the elevator after the doors ding open, she turns to give the detective one last cursory glance “You lost, Benson.” She states before the doors close.

It doesn’t matter whether she believes Anne killed her parents or not, the woman had paid her generously to defend her and she was going to do just that. Nor does it matter the two have history, it didn’t impact the case or her ability to do her job. She was looking forward to the end of it though so she could finally actually enjoy a quiet drink without the guilt of knowing she should be working instead.

Once the doors open, she makes her way quickly to where Anne should be, letting out a breath of relief when she sees Anne sitting back in one of the seats, her blazer draped over the back of it. “You really think I’d risk doing a runner after the absolute field day you had out there? Ms. Calhoun I’m offended” she laughs, a coy smirk tugging at her lips “I’m saving the energy for once I’m cleared of my charges. How does that sound? You come back to the estate and unwind, just like the-“

Rita hushes her, swatting her arm lightly as she takes a seat opposite the blonde “Ms. Gillette! The walls have ears.” She shrugs her blazer off as well and leans back in her seat, propping her elbow up on the armrest before leaning her head against it, a small smile on her face as she looks at the woman opposite her.

“I never thought I’d be defending you in a murder case too, Anne. It’s one thing helping you get out of minor assault charges, but for a double-homicide?” She lets out a laugh, shaking her head “That is something else entirely. You were always one to make a grand show of things though, hm?” Rita quirks a brow at the blonde, a faint smirk tugging at her lips which earns an eye-roll and scoff from the blonde.

“Oh please Rita, I’m hardly as dramatic as that Tindall woman. Now, after this is all over, would you like to join me for drinks? Nothing else will happen, just an extra thank you for your hard work.” Rita sighs quietly “I can’t- I owe Novak a round after being so rough on her in court. She’s an amazing lawyer and a hard-worker, I’d rather not burn that bridge.”

Rita’s phone buzzes against the table and she immediately grabs it, turning the screen on to see the message before her eyes dart to Anne’s “They’ve reached a verdict, Ms. Gillette” she breathes out, a very faint hint of a nervous waver. “Well then, let’s get this over and done with.” Anne stands up and puts her blazer on, doing a button up in the middle then brushing some of her hair behind her ear. She follows Rita out of the room and down the hall to the elevator, this is the first time since this case started that she feels genuinely nervous- Not that she committed the crime, anyone would be nervous if they were in court.

Rita gives Anne’s arm a gentle squeeze before they exit the elevator and make their way into the court room, both ignoring the glares coming from the prosecution as they take a seat behind their table. “All stand for the Judge.” They do just that, Rita glancing at Casey out the corner of her eye, noticing how tense she appears before they take their seats again once the Judge has sat down.

Court:                 Will the jury foreperson please stand. Has the jury reached a unanimous verdict?

Foreperson:          Yes.

                                  CLERK TAKES THE VERDICT FORM

                                     AND HANDS IT TO THE JUDGE.                              

Rita rests her hand on Anne’s thigh, giving it a reassuring squeeze upon noticing how anxious the woman was before returning her hand to rest on the table with her other one.

Judge:                    The jury find the defendant not guilty. The defendant is free to go home. Lets hope we don’t see you in this court again, Ms. Gillette. The jury is thanked and excused. Court is adjourned.

Anne lets out a shaky breath before standing up and throwing her arms around Rita in a tight hug, repeatedly mumbling thank you to her. Rita returns the hug before pulling back slightly, gently wiping away the few tears that had spilled onto Anne’s cheeks, giving her a soft smile “I told you that I’d make sure you were found not guilty, Ms. Gillette. I’m a woman of my word, you should know that by now.”

Anne smiles back and lets go of Rita before running a hand through her short blonde hair “A miracle worker.” She glances over Rita’s shoulder and sees Casey watching intently, a disheartened look on her face before returning her gaze back to the woman in front of her “I should get going, it looks like Casey wants a word with you and she definitely looks like she needs a few drinks. I’ll see you around, Rita.” She kisses the woman’s cheek in farewell before taking her leave, feeling considerably lighter and more free now that the case is over.

Once she is out of the courthouse, she takes out her phone and calls her boyfriend- well, he thinks he’s her boyfriend, but she really couldn’t care less. “Hi darling, you’re talking to a free woman. No I’m not upset you couldn’t be in court, it would hardly be a good look for a detective to be seen on the alleged criminal’s side. You can make it up to me tonight when you take me out for dinner- Yes Yn can come along too, she is your daughter after all. I will take her shopping for something nice- I won’t be spoiling the girl. She needs nicer clothing to go to the restaurant I have in mind. Don’t worry- I already told you I am not going to spoil the girl. I don’t like repeating myself so it would do you some good to actually listen. I’ll pick her up from university and we’ll go from there. Mhmm, love you too. See you tonight.”

She rolls her eyes and lets out an annoyed sigh, she was not interested in this man in the slightest and he wasn’t even that good in bed, it was his money she was after, and she would leave the relationship with all of it after they get married. He had been talking about marriage for the past few months seeing as they had been together for a few years, completely unaware of how disinterested she actually is. Anne was not a woman to fall in love, nor was she the type of woman to settle down and get married.

“You better not fuck this family up too, Ms. Gillette” Anne turns to find Olivia walking towards her, thoroughly pissed off “Yn is like a daughter to me, so if I find out you do anything to upset her-“ The blonde gives her a bored look “Do you have nothing better to do, Olivia? Were you not listening to what the judge said? I’m an innocent woman, so no, I didn’t fuck my family up, daddy did when he killed my mother before himself.”

She takes a step closer to the brunette, a smug smirk settling on her face “You may be like a mother to her, Olivia, but unlike you… I actually am her step-mom, something you will never be. Now, this may be a surprise to you, seeing as you’re someone that never works, I have things to do including taking Yn clothes shopping for our celebratory dinner tonight. You’re not invited.” She fakes a pout “How unfortunate” before laughing and making her way to the car that was waiting for her before getting in, telling the driver where to go.

[fandomscombine]

Love and Sacrifice

A Fred Weasley x Reader and Adrian Pucey x Reader

BG: Fred didn’t know what went wrong. One moment you were happy together the next you reappear after months of silence only to came back engaged to Adrian Pucey. But what he doesn’t know is that you made the ultimate sacrifice for him.

Contains: Forbidden love. Arranged marriage. Angst alert! Get ready to feel the pain.

A/N: Was supposed to be just an outline, but kinda became a straight up full fic.

WC:1662

>>>MASTERLIST<<<

>>JOIN MY WRITING CHALLENGE!<<

Weeks leading up to the day that Fred and George were to leave Hogwarts to start Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, Fred had noticed you becoming distant. Though he didn’t put much though into that as to NEWTS coming up and you had been staying up most nights helping them sort out the joke shop’s paperwork instead of revising. He knew that this situation would be temporary and once you graduated, you would be moving out of your strict parent’s house to live in with him- as you both had planned.

However, after graduation, you were still giving him the cold shoulder and not replying to his letters. Even his siblings had noticed that after they left, you were acting weird-not talking much, low energy and generally not feeling like yourself.  Although you had sat with the remaining Weasleys on the Hogwarts Express, you were unusually quiet, a shell of your past self. Similar to Fred, his younger sibling attributed this behaviour to being anxious in knowing the results of your NEWTS, which were set to arrive mid-July.

Fast-forward to a few weeks after graduation, you are now engaged to Adrian Pucey. You both were walking around Diagon Alley, doing some wedding shopping when a certain shop comes into view. Of course, you had only seen the concept art and blueprints, so you had an idea what it would look like, but it was even more magical seeing it in person.

Adrian catches a sight of your face and understands, understand that these past few weeks with him had been a whirlwind and acknowledges that you and Fred would need closure for both for you to move on.  Adrian gave your hand a squeeze, ‘Go on y/n, I know you want to.’ Beckoning towards the shop. ‘We should at least give him the decency to tell him in person rather than him finding it out in the daily prophet that you are soon to be married.  We are gonna have “The wedding of the year” as they call it.’

The whole time you were reluctant to approach him. Unable to predict how he would react to you popping up out of the blue.

With hands in your pocket, hiding your ring. You call out to him after 3 long months.

‘y/n?’ Fred did double take, almost not believing that you were real, the actual y/n that he loved, that disappeared is now within reach.

Emotions came rushing back. How foolish did you think that months apart, forcing him out of your mind would diminish everything you felt. Panicking, you dashed to the door.

Nevertheless, his long legs had quickly caught up to you. He tries to stop you from leaving him again, holding your arm back, you resisted yanking away his grasp.

His hand slides past yours, accidentally pulling off you ring too.

It falls to the ground.

Fred kneels down, getting to it first.

It’s even funny really, you though that he would be at that position before. Of course, under different circumstances.

He stares at the ring.

Right then Adrian reaches your side. “What are you doing with my fiancée’s ring?”

“Fiancée?”

‘Yeah my fiancée’ Adrian interlocks your hands. ‘The soon to be Mrs. y/n Pucey’

Fred chokes on air, turning redder than you’ve ever seen, you can see the veins in his arms contract.

The only time you saw him like this was when Malfoy insulted his family back in Year 5 quidditch match.

You turn to Adrian, with soft eyes.

He nods, understanding what you were asking. ‘I’ll be right outside, okay?’

‘Thank you.’

However, when you turned back, Fred was already walking away.

‘Fred! Wait!’ you finally caught up to him ‘Can we talk? Please.’

He stops, nodding though not bothering to face you. ‘In here.’ Leading you to his office.

Crossing his arms, he mocked. ‘So this is why you weren’t returning my messages.’

‘Fred….’

‘Cause you were with him all this time.’

‘NO!!! No… I wasn’t believe me.’

‘Then why?’ Fred was emotionally exhausted. ‘I just had the love of his life reappear after months of silence, only to find out that she’s engaged to someone else, someone I know she practically strangers with!’ Fred runs his hand through his hair, leaning defeated against the table. ‘Why did you leave me? You just disappear, like we didn’t have history. y/n. NO note. NO explanation. Just silence.’

‘Remember when you and George were trying to get this place up and running?’

‘Yea but what’s it got to do with all this?’

You raised a hand to stop him.

‘Do you recall that all your efforts were being blocked? The lease, the permits…..’ you exhaled. ‘Apparently that was my father’s doing.’

‘Your father??’

You nodded.

‘News got to him that we were dating- and no I don’t know how, but it did.’ You added, knowing what’s on his mind. ‘You know how my father is... with his traditional ways. He couldn’t believe that his only daughter was seeing a blood traitor. There was no way he would allow it.’ You shook your head.  ‘So he used his influence in the ministry, pulled some strings in order to do whatever he could to stop you from building the joke shop.’

‘You and George were being held back with one thing to another, it’s unheard of to have a business struggle so much just to get the right paperwork. So I did some digging, I had my suspicions then, I knew it had someone powerful but what was curious was that you were faced with all these constant barriers that couldn’t possibly be an authority being throughout with the paperwork. No, it was more inclined to someone with a personal grudged.’ You explained.

‘So, I took a chance and confronted my father.’ Continuing on, you sneered. ‘It was funny cause he didn’t even bother to deny my allegations, said he was doing the right thing.’ You air quoted.  ‘And that if I wanted it to stop. He would do so immediately, under the condition that I break up with you and agree to have an arranged marriage.’

‘What?’ Fred shocked by your confession. ‘y/n. Why did you agree? ’

‘It was the hardest thing I had to do, but I knew that it was for the best.’ You looked at him with melancholy. ‘It would be the best for you.’

 ‘You thought it would be the best for me, did you honestly thought that I would agree to this huh y/n?’ Fred challenged.

 ‘I did it so that you would have a bright and happy future, even if it meant that I won’t be in the picture.’

He scoffs.

‘Freddie..’ When he wouldn’t look at you, you tried again. ‘love…’

He winces at the nickname.

‘You have been wanting to turn this dream of having your own joke shop into a reality for the longest time. I know that burning unstoppable passion you have in bringing joy into the world ever since I’ve known you.’ Moving closer, you cupped his cheek. ‘Time and time again, you had overcome people’s discouragement on your passion, and you came up on top.’

‘So who am I to stop you from fulfilling your dreams? I can’t do that to you Freddie. I won’t be always to bear with the knowledge of holding you back. I can’t. I couldn’t Not to you. ’

‘So you sacrifice your own happiness for me to have mine?’

You shrugged.

‘Do you love him?’ Fred’s voice was strained.

You were caught off guard by his question. ‘Adrian?’

‘Yea.’

Gathering your thoughts together, you reasoned ‘I…..I…It’s only been a few week since we got engaged-‘

‘Do. You. Love. Him?’ Fred could feel his heart contracting. But he needed to know where he stood emotionally to you.

‘I like him.’ Blinking, you thought about your past couple of weeks with Adrian. ‘He’s sweet and nice. A really caring gentleman.’ You admitted. ‘Not exactly the typical evil Slytherin archetype either. So there’s that.’

‘That’s not exactly a high bar.’ Fred taunted causing you to chuckle.

‘But in time…given time. I don’t see why I won’t potentially fall for him.’ You replied truthfully.

You both just sat there, shoulder to shoulder on his office table. Hints laughter could be heard through the door. In contrast to this small room full of eery silence and tense with the gloom of a last goodbye.

‘Well..’ You stand, brushing your dress straight. ‘I guess that is all there is to say.’ You sent him a reassuring smile, eager to maintain this light ambiance between you. ‘I just dropped by for a quick visit you and to inform you of the upcoming wedding of the year. Thought that it be best to clear the air and be polite and give you a heads up personally rather than finding out about it in the daily prophet tomorrow.’

You wrap him into a hug, knowing that this would be the last time. ‘I’ll miss you.’

Fred held onto to you tighter, inhaling your scent. ‘I’ll miss you too.’ Compelling his brain to remember what you feel like, what you smell like. His The One That Got Away. Burying his face into your neck, he pleads. ‘Do this one thing for me please…. To make things easier.’

‘Anything’ you replied.

‘Tell me you don’t love me.’

You stiffen in his arms, pulling back a bit to see his face. ‘I can’t.’

You were about to walk away when once again he stops you.

The next thing you know, you were spun back into his arms, kissing with intense passion, pouring your hearts out, knowing that this is it. The final kiss. The final moment. This is where your stories diverge.

You broke apart, cherishing his face this close one last time.

‘Goodbye, Fred Weasley.’

With that you exit his office, leaving behind a perfectly happy life of what ifs and a heartbroken man surrounded by reminders of his achievements and happiness.

  Taglist [All/General]: @gruffle1​

[mxupdate]

[ARTICLE] Wonho (Monsta X) opens up about his dark past and apologizes to fans

'Actually, I'm always feeling unsettled''

We asked why he felt like that,

Wonho opened up about his past.

"Because I know my mistake..."

"No matter what I say, it's just a fallacy. It's because I was wrong."

He continued.

"Therefore, I tried my best, so that I would not make the same mistake again."

Above all, he said that thanks to his fans, he was determined to change.

"I have got what is called love. I don't want to let them down, even just a little."

In February, Dispatch had a meeting with Wonho, Monsta X's former member. At that time, he was reviewing himself for his past controversies when the police were investigating his allegations of drug use in 2013.

"Yes, that's right. I acknowledge my past. I was too stupid. I have tried my best not to live like that again. I only think about the members, the group and my fans."

He added that he was misunderstood.

"I don't use drugs. The police are investigating it. When my innocence is proven, please write an article about my story. I want to apologize and clear up the misunderstanding. I also want to be forgiven by everyone."

On March 10, the police ruled Wonho not guilty. After the investigation on allegations of drug use, the police closed the case because no suspicious points were found. Therefore, we would like to write about Wonho's story.

◆ "It was unfortunate in those days"

An apartment for rent located in Sanbon Ward, Gunpo City, Gyeonggi Province. This apartment has a living room (small size) and a room. Wonho lived there with his grandmother, parents, and younger brother. A miserable period of his life.

"I lived in a small rental apartment until I was 20 years old. My grandmother used the only room. My father, mother, younger brother and I all ate and slept in the living room. At that time I didn't know it was poverty."

In elementary school, he didn't get along well with his peers. He was always teased. The torment went on repeatedly. Wonho was a shy and timid child.

"Sometimes my friends teased me by saying I'm dirty, sometimes bullied me just because they felt bored. My friends didn't like me at all. In fact, there are many more memories I don't want to remember. In short, I was alienated by my friends."

Certainly, he got troubled at his home as well. Wonho's parents fought every day for money. Wonho spent most of his time outside. Then, he knew a stranger in the neighborhood.

"At home, I was not at ease because my parents argued all the time. I had to kill the time outside every day. Just like that, I happened to know a brother in the ward, then I started to follow him."

◆ "I was once interested in bad things"

Since then, Wonho wasn't bullied anymore. No, rather, others started to avoid him. Wonho said he felt fun seeing his friends being dissatisfied.

"One day, I went downstairs and bumped into a friend who had bullied me. I unconsciously cowered. However, that guy opened up first, "Ho Seok, I'm sorry." I suddenly became arrogant. That's not good, but..."

Wonho escaped from being an outcast. But he did not feel happy. The situation was still the same, the discord did not end yet. Eventually, he became more and more pessimistic. This happened when Wonho was in high school.

"My parents argued on that day. Suddenly, I felt choked in my heart. I saw no hope in this house. I walked out of the house unconsciously. At that time, I did not realize the importance of families."

Outside the family's shelter, it was even more dangerous. Wonho hung out with new friends, then was caught up in something he shouldn't have done. Some of his friends went to juvie on suspicion of special theft. Wonho got milder punishment, he was placed under probation.

"I don't want to blame my friends. Because that was also my choice. It sounds like an excuse, but at that time, I was not mature. It was my fault. My fault only. I apologize."

◆ "I had a dream"

Wonho ran into a lot of difficulties in his teens. It's literally a stormy period with intense highs and downs. Then, he met Jung Dae Eun. He remembered that it was when he was in the 2nd year of high school.

"We immediately became closer. We also did modeling jobs together. Da Eun helped me a lot. She even supported my dream of becoming a singer."

Before the age of 20, Wonho, called Lee Ho Seok at that time, was a rebellious boy. He went astray and resented reality. However, after the age of 20, Wonho changed. He moved forward and tried his utmost to overcome the reality of life. That is the epiphany.

"I saw my friends practice like crazy. They were all dreaming of their own dreams. I was jealous of them. So I could only live in resentment... At that time, I promised myself that I won't waste my life anymore."

Wonho practiced day and night. Whenever he had free time, he ran to the stair corridor because he needed a place to practice alone. There, he constantly danced, rested, and danced again.

"I joined the trainees who entered the company at the same time with me to dance and sing all night. I didn't feel tired. Because there was a ray of hope in me that 'I have a future too'. I was happy. Activities with the group were also very delightful. In those 4 years, I learned a lot."

◆ "The past gets in the way"

In 2015, Wonho debuted as a member of Monsta X. The group has released 12 albums in Korea as well as taking Asia, Europe, and the United States by storm. Monsta X also achieved significant success as they landed at No.39 on Billboard's Pop Songs Chart (in 2019) and became the third K-pop artist to accomplish this.

In 2019, when Wonho was on the rise, his murky past caught up with him. He, in turn, entangled in the controversy related to the Me Too movement and the fact that he was once under house arrest was also exposed. In 2013, he was even placed under investigation in suspicion of drug use.

"It's true that I made a mistake, but there are some misunderstandings about me as well. Of course, I'm aware that these are irreversible. Because not everyone goes down the wrong way and falls into such a situation. I reflected on myself a lot at the time I was under house arrest."

Wonho didn't give more explanations. He admitted his past wrongdoings and apologized many times. However, he resolutely denied suspicion of drug use. He said that he absolutely never touched that illegal substance.

"I acknowledge my past deeds. But what I didn't do, I would say no. I absolutely do not use drugs. I have explained it clearly to the police."

After more than 5 months of investigation, the police have concluded that Wonho was innocent. They did not find evidence related to drug use. The police also investigated whether Wonho used drugs in the form of tablets. However, they did not discover any drugs.

◆ "I don't want to hurt anyone"

Wonho quit Monsta X. In October 2019, before officially departing from the group, he left a message that reads, "The members have been hurt by someone like me. All of them have no relation to me at all. I hope that you guys will be Monsta X's pillar of strength.

"The group made lots of efforts to prepare a new album. I hate to see Monsta X collapse (just because of me). I think I should leave the group as soon as possible so Monsta X can continue their activities. I'd like to prevent the damage to them as much as I could."

One more thing, the reason for his determination is MonBeBes.

"I can confidently say that I have completely changed after meeting MonBeBes. I understood what it is like to be loved. I want to live a good life every day."

According to Wonho, he has never lost his concentration on work. Most of his daily tasks are making music, exercises, and fan communication. In fact, Wonho often chatted with fans through live broadcasts, each of which lasted for around 3~4 hours, during his overseas tour.

"Actually, this is the first time I feel such warmth. So, I don't want to let everyone down. I just want to do the things that the fans like. I want to repay that love. But..."

◆ "Anyway, I'm sorry"

The past has been exposed. He wondered what he could do. It was concluded that he could do nothing but withdraw from the group. He thought it was a way to ease the fans' pain (even just a little).

"I promised the fans many things. I also said I would always stay by their side. Although I only lived and thought of fans, I apologize for leaving this way..."

However, he explained that he was forced to do so

"In the past, I lived as Lee Ho Seok, and now as Wonho. Is it possible that Wonho is not responsible for what Lee Ho Seok did? I have to shoulder that responsibility. In the end, I have hurt everyone with my past. I want to relieve that pain."

Wonho hasn't left his house for a while. He lived in silence, to avoid causing damage to those around him. During that time, he was cleanly acquitted of drug-related allegations. Wonho shared that it was fortunate enough.

"Even up to now, I can't forget the fans. On the contrary, I am just so regretful. I feel regret, I should have done a little better. I do this interview with one reason only, which is to apologize to everyone."

See article here.

[anemonenemerosa]

The Spare - Chapter 7

Hello again,

here we go with the next chapter.

The fic is still inspired by the lovely @lumosinlove

TW for mentioned homophobia, past (and present?) abuse, mental health issues.

Chapter 7

Regulus quietly eased himself down on his bed, not making a noise, struggling to grasp what he just overheard. And it was a lot. His brother was, erm... dating the person he called after dinner. The voice on the phone was somewhat unintelligible but clearly male... named Remus. Sirius is dating a man. He was gay... playing in the NHL. Holy shit.'

After a moment of comprehension, Regulus pushed the newly found insights in his brothers’ sex-life aside. There was so much more. Sirius did not just go and found himself a new family six years ago. He felt as abandoned by his family as Regulus felt by Sirius. He feared their parents. Was the brave attitude Sirius would show Regulus just to keep him calm and happy, to protect his little brother? The beatings didn't end when Sirius was fifteen, as Regulus was always made to believe and he was going through therapy because of the psychological damage it caused. All the time Sirius told him he did not understand, Regulus drove him further away but his brother was right all along. Regulus did not understand, and he could kick himself for not getting this earlier.

But Sirius left Regulus there instead of explaining to him what he did not understand.

“I wouldn’t trade places with him though. I wouldn’t give up the Lions for anything.” His brother had said. Regulus wouldn't want to trade places with himself either.

This made clear that Sirius had no idea how Regulus' life went and how leaving him alone did not ease the pressure off of him. On the contrary. Do other families actually talk about such things? Probably, but we did not talk and now the damage is done.

Then, another aspect of the conversation demanded attention. Sirius had found someone. A team, some kind of family he actually wanted to spend time with and not just showed up out of sense of duty. And this Remus, who seemed to deeply care about him. Him, not his career, not his status. That man might even love him.

Regulus felt his eyes burn. He hadn't cried in years but the bare idea that relationships existed where people cared for each other like that, without expectations, showing support and giving comfort, left him longing. He remembered the feeling of being cared for by Sirius when he was young and realised that he was secretly craving it. Envy mingled with the burning the remorse of all he ever did to his brother while tears ran down his face.

                                   ............................................

The next day went by in a blur. Regulus was confused and hurting. His carefully maintained walls broke down yesterday and he was struggling to get them up again. He still couldn't look into his brothers’ eyes, he was off kilter and felt too exposed. But he knew he needed to get a grip, needed to talk to his brother before he left the next morning.

Regulus wandered around again at night but not in the house. He couldn’t walk past Sirius room again before he was ready. Instead, he put his running shoes on, climbed out of his window and started off along his favourite path. He'd run it so often, it didn't even make a difference that is was dark. He put Sirius' sexuality on the back burner, deciding that it was more important to get a concept of how he felt about his brother after all the input from last night. Letting the call replay in his head, Regulus tried to make a note of the feelings that surged through him. It hurt horribly but he pushed through and began to classify his emotions halfway through his second laps.

He felt sorry for his brother. Sirius was abused, felt just as abandoned as Regulus, stood under enormous pressure from the media already and oh, he was a closeted gay NHL-Captain dating his teams' -almost professional NHL-player- PT. The name Remus stroked something in Regulus' memory and he had looked him up earlier that day. Somewhat typically Sirius: Never one to do things by halves. But back to the feelings-endeavour.

There was shame, quite a lot. Regulus was being big-headed, naive and too eager to please his parents, the Snakes, too eager to escape Sirius' success pressing down on him until he couldn't breathe. He had let himself get blinded.

Despite the re-evaluation of their last years, Regulus still felt abandoned by his big brother and unbearably hurt. Although he began to fathom why Sirius put so much distance between himself and the family, he promised Regulus to always be his brother, to be there for him. And then, he wasn't. This wasn't all Sirius' fault of course, there were so many layers to their relationship that his head spun and he didn't even know everything that happened to his brother.

Regulus took a short break from running and feelings before he began his fifth laps, wishing he had thought of water.

Envy was the next feeling on the list. It was a not a knew occurrence but while it usually focused on his brother’s career, he now envied Sirius for something completely different. For having friends as close as a family, a team that supported him and seemed to genuinely like him as a person. Jealousy threw itself into the mix with a pang. All these people were in company of the Sirius' happy and caring side. The side that once was reserved for Regulus only. But maybe, it was possible to deeply care for several people. That Sirius finding real friends didn't mean he had nothing left for his baby brother. But Regulus drove him away and lost his claim. As quick as the jealousy came, it was overshadowed by longing for true affection and loss of how close he once was to his brother.

Remus. The name sprang up in Regulus' mind. Sirius hadn't just found a home, he found love. Something, Regulus grew more and more aware that he himself was undeserving of such strong affection. Any affection honestly. After all he had done, no one could possibly like him. The realisation just increased the longing and gave it a painful twinge.

 As if it wasn’t bad enough already.

Regulus gave up running after the fifth laps and settled on lying on a park bench in the middle of nowhere instead, like a proper creep.

Maybe I could do with a bit of therapy too, at the very least to sort through this mess, he thought dryly.

Then, there was the sexuality part. His brother was gay. This thought should have evoked repulsion in him but it didn’t. He briefly considered the common slurs and dirty jokes in the locker-room and on ice. Regulus was not sure how much of it was supposed to be harmless chirping but without doubt, it would become ammunition of certain players, if they knew it was actually true. And his parents made decidedly no effort to sugar-coat their opinions.

                                 ......................................................

"Sports is stooping lower and lower these days!" Regulus remembered his father’s agitation during the Olympic winter-games in Sochi.

Tim Stevenson, a Vancouver City Councillor, urged the International Olympics Committee to add "sexual orientation" to the Olympic Charter. The politician was openly-gay and married to Gary Paterson, the equally openly-gay moderator of the United Church of Canada.

"They shouldn't have allowed that in the first place" Orion hissed while succumbing into a rare fit of rage.

Regulus, of course, couldn’t remember the marriage in 2004 but his parents would never fail to show their distaste and indignation.

                                   .................................................

Regulus had always believed blindly what his parents told him, once out of naivety, later out of self-preservation. A mode of action he began to question deeply by now. The blind trust towards his parents was crumbling quickly, and Regulus felt himself uncertain of what to do now that his moral concepts and alleged knowledge were dissolving at an alarming rate. But as many tumultuous hard feelings as he allowed himself against Sirius for abandoning him and escaping, he did not think that being gay changed something about his brother...

Wasn't sexuality something you can’t help? That has always been like this? Then, hadn't he always been gay and knowing about it did not make him a different person. But Regulus hardly doubted that most of the NHL shared this train of thought, let alone their parents.

This can ruin Sirius' career... but isn't hockey supposed to be about the game and the game only? His mantra came back from the dead.

Why should it be of any importance for his game where he put his dick, or let other people stick their dick, for that matter? Regulus shuddered at the thought that his brother had a sex-life but he found himself not cringing at the idea of Sirius liking men. It was more the fact that he had sex in general. He denied that brothers, just like parents did this at all. Being the living proof that his parents had definitely had sex, was irrelevant.

Regulus decided to keep his brothers secret. He would not hurt him any more than he already had.

Coming home, around three in the morning, tired but much more at ease he found himself able to really sleep for the first time in what felt like years. Come next morning, he would grow a pair of metaphorical balls (he already had actual ones, thank you very much) to tell Sirius about the Interview and apologise. He would not talk about his brother’s sexuality, didn't want to intrude. It was not Regulus' business after all.

Regulus never overslept but this very day, he did. When he woke up, his brother was already gone. Thats that. I hope you liked it :)

Stay safe and channel your inner Hufflepuff

[bottleofspilledink]

God’s Watching, Put on a Show || Chapter XV

Now, normally a love confession would be followed by an answer. It was only rational. Declare your love and wait for a response. Either get a relationship or get rejected.

Lilith was not, however, what society by and large would actually deem ‘normal’ and neither was this confession. The word ‘love’ was not mentioned once, leaving her to wonder if Eve actually did understand her…

As the days passed, what was unspoken but clearly there blossomed, from a pinky-sized seed into a lush bouquet that filled their chest with an indescribable yearning and their conversations with heavy pauses, gazes overflowing with a tenderness that far surpassed what was appropriate between fond friends.

Soon, though, the rubber band holding the bouquet together would snap.

Soon, Lilith would come to know that Eve understood her quite well.

From the tension that sat in the five inches of space between their two chairs, something akin to electricity buzzing there, to the way Eve would eagerly ramble about the (not forbidden, she was still too shy to talk about what exactly was in the book Lilith snuck into her bag) books she’d read during lunch, to the patience Lilith would show as they ran through equations in study hall.

What was unspoken was slowly growing whether Lilith or Eve wanted it too. Like an unkillable weed that always grew back, no matter how many times you’ve pulled it out of the ground, no matter the chemical you chose to douse it with. But far more beautiful… That is, if the gardener would allow it to grow.

And everyone who was willing to see it would know it was there, what was there, even if the people feeling it were too scared to give it a name, even if the people seeing were too scared to admit it existed.

...

It was Thursday night on the same week as the incident, Lilith and Joan sat drinking cola in the shack, crickets and cicadas chirping in chorus outside, no one else with them busy with part-time jobs and family dinners and catching up on a week of homework.

“Hey.” Joan said, trying to steer the conversation away from their light-hearted chats and towards something a bit more… complicated, a tad more touchy.

“Yeah?”

“Are… Eve, I mean.” The brunette took a long sip from her can, the relaxed air between them shifting as she stalled what she needed to say. “Are you sure we can trust her?”

“What do you mean? She’s obviously gay and in denial-”

“That’s the point.” Joan fixes her with a soft stare, trying to strike the balance between firm and sympathetic. “I doubt Eve’s even admitted it to herself, and even if she has, she’s no friend of ours yet.”

“Where’s all this coming from all of a sudden?” Lilith can’t help but be defensive. After everything she’d told Joan about Eve and how she felt for her, after everything Joan had seen Eve go through just that Monday, how could she still be against the girl?

“They’re holding confession tomorrow.”

“What?”

“In the afternoon, just before club. There’s going to be confession.” Another sip from her drink, faster this time. “The holy type.”

Lilith knew exactly what Joan was implying, now considering the possibility herself having remembered what was happening tomorrow and every week after that. She wouldn’t admit it, though, refusing to doubt Eve despite the danger it may pose to trust her, to… love her.

Aster blue eyes widened, if only a fraction, in shock.

“And what’s that got to do with anything?”

“Are you sure she won’t crack?”

It hurt to think of. The chance of betrayal very real and very close, the things it may cost them all hung heavy in the air. What they’d worked for during the past year – the subject of many serious chats, full of tears and thinking and uncertainties, the cause of many sleepless nights, weighing risk and reward, planning – could vanish in an instant and make them vanish with it.

She could practically feel the ‘Godly Living’ brochures in her hand.

It was another thing she tried not to think of too much; her friends strapped into electric chairs and deadly hydrotherapy chambers, pumped full of pills that made them nauseous at the very thought of love with women or ones that didn’t let them think at all, the possibility of getting lobotomized.

“- could out us! She could out you!”

Joan’s voice pulled her from her mind before she could go too deep.

The emphasis on ‘you’ nearly made Lilith cry.

At the end of it all, even with the threat it brought to their gay little family, made up of people so vastly different yet somehow so similar, Joan was thinking about her.

And she was right to.

Tomorrow, if Eve did give her away, the others would be able to lie their way out of it, come up with alibis and excuses and cry ‘I have a boyfriend’ because Eve hadn’t spent enough time around them to gain anything as evidence because Eve had only been around Lilith.

“I don’t think she will.”

She tried not to sound scared.

“The only thing she really has against me are words anyways…” There was no reason to tell the other of the note she’d written for Eve. Painful as it was, the girl had probably thrown it out by now, especially since she knew what it meant. “And she can’t mention experience without admitting what almost happened between us a week ago.”

Joan was unconvinced.

“Are you really going to take this risk?”

She tossed Joan a few quarters. Enough for three phone calls on the payphone a mile or so away.

Maybe Lilith was going to risk herself for the sake of some girl.

But she’d be damned if she let her friends do the same thing for her.

“Call the others. Tell them to pack essentials and paperwork. Tell Colette to bring the check.”

“Only if you pack a bag too.”

It seems they would do the same for Lilith, whether she wanted them too or not.

“Joan-”

“No. If we have to leave tomorrow, you’re coming with us.”

And that was that.

...

It was a fine Friday morning in St. Agnes School For Girls. Maybe even her last.

Lilith tried to stay calm. Even as she packed her bags, even as she snuck into her grandfather’s office to retrieve her personal papers, even during the walk back to the shack, even while Paula and Joan and Julia and Colette went over what to say if they were questioned about their relationship with one another, their closeness, their relationship with Lilith, specifically.

It was agreed they would never throw each other under the bus. Agreed that, they’d deny all allegations against each other despite the proof, even if it may mean making them complicit.

After all, if they had to flee, they’d flee together.

If even one of them were found out, the plan was to run and pull a fire alarm, notifying the others.

Joan’s truck was parked just a few streets away from the school, no more than a quick sprint needed to reach it, key in her pocket, Paula carrying a duplicate, bags already in the back, fastened, Julia had forged a note for them about an after-school activity, buying them some time before a search was called if the school didn’t immediately call their guardians, and Colette carried all she needed to cash the check in on her person.

The last thing they did were practice statements, crafting sentences that left no room for interpretation and had no strange implications, absent of loopholes and additional clauses.

“What do we say if any of us are questioned about homosexual activity?”

“I know nothing about that.” They said, all in synch, drilling the words into their heads exactly as they were so there was no chance of them being taken out of context and used to spin a narrative. If the nuns wanted any of them sent to conversion therapy, they were going to have to lie through their teeth. “I’ve never taken part in such things and know no one who has.”

They sounded nothing like themselves, Lilith realized in between breaks.

Though she supposed that was the point.

“Again!” Said Joan. “What do you say if they accuse your friends of being homosexuals?”

“My friends and I are good, Christian people who would never willingly associate with homosexuals. I have personal anecdotes to prove the innocence of the girl you are accusing.”

It made them sick to their stomachs, having to say such things.

It made them safe, though.

And for now, that was all that mattered.

They were prepared.

But they didn’t want to leave. Not yet.

 ...

As the day went on, Lilith began to lose her cool, anxiety creeping deep into her bones, growing fidgety and restless. Her leg shook under the table, fingers tapping against the desk and clicking pens, eyes always shifting, looking for another sign that they needed to go.

Was this what Eve felt like every day?

The fear of being found out was in no means foreign to Lilith, nor was the fear of God, a tyrant she used to believe in and worship just like Eve did. But it had faded, her hiding of herself perfected to a science, fear turning into anger as she realized that everything she was raised on was a sham.

It had been too long since she felt this real, crushing anxiety.

She didn’t like it.

...

It was time.

Lilith and Eve sat next to each other in the small chapel on school grounds, just a bit behind the actual building but before the convent, not an inch of space between them as they were squeezed into the pews filled with those yet to receive the sacrament of confession. The seats were divided so that there were two groups of pews, one for waiting, the other for prayer, where many would do their penance. Two confessional booths were far behind them, having been placed like that so none of the girls would see who went in when or be able to hear a peep.

She knew how this was going to happen, how they could possibly get outed.

Priests were not allowed to break their vows and tell the nuns of the sins they’d heard during the confession but a penance was to be given to those who had sinned.

It could be anything from a prayer to an act of service.

It could be telling the nuns what you’ve done or know someone’s done as a way of repenting.

No doubt, if anyone confessed something of significance, they would have to tell Mother Cecilia.

And since most everyone who did this in earnest would believe their soul was on the line, if the girls in this school were truly the people they claimed to be, they would tell the nuns, friendships and loyalties and love be damned as the person they tattle on.

“Eve?” The girl whispered, finally snapping. “The note I gave you, do you still have it?”

The blonde did nothing more than look to the marble floor, hair shielding her face. There was no way for Lilith to tell if she was ashamed or guilty or planning to-

“Please answer me.”

“I still have it.”

For the first time in years, far longer than what most would consider healthy, Lilith felt herself minutes away from bursting into tears, eyes stinging from having to hold it all in.

“Where?”

“Why?”

Eve refused to meet her eyes when she ducked down to try and catch a glimpse of her face.

“With me, right now, in my pocket.”

Before the girl could answer her, a nun appeared to lead Eve into the booth, giving her a light scolding as they went.

“Time before confession should be used to reflect on your sins, Miss Peccator.”

“Yes, Sister Jane. I’m sorry.”

And with that, she was gone.

...

It was an eternity later when Lilith left the chapel, finding Eve just outside, to the right, standing amongst stone pillars that had barely started growing moss, waiting.

They were as alone as they could be, the only things watching them were the unseeing eyes of the statue saint surrounding them, whatever creature lingered in the cracks on the chapel’s stone, and God.

Perhaps what resided in the chapel was God.

“Eve…” She stepped closer to the girl, desperation potent. “What did you tell them?”

No response.

All she was given were downcast brown eyes and fidgeting fingers, guilt.

Lilith took another step forward, grabbing the other by her hands, letting Eve feel her warmth, her pulse, the softness of her flesh, of the blood that flowed through her veins, of her humanity.

“Eve, what did you tell the priest?”

Lilith had fallen to her knees, in a plea, in a prayer, the ground beneath her unforgiving and now stained with her blood, dark red and sinful. Eve’s hands clasped in hers and pressed to her sweat-soaked forehead as sobs wracked her body harder than it had in years.

She was screaming now, pulling on the other’s hands hard enough to hurt, something, anything to make the girl look up at her, unaware of the tears streaming down her own face.

“Eve? Eve?! What did you tell the priest?!”

They were the image of repentance, a holy figure, a dirty sinner; Eve towered above Lilith as she cried, immaculate and unattached as the girl wept into her skirts and her hands, a holy portrait commissioned by a long-gone pope.

If only they weren’t both sinners in His eyes.

“What did you tell the priest, Eve?!”

__________________

HAPPY HOLIDAYS HAVE A FUCKING CLIFF HANGER ψ(｀∇´)ψ

Lmao yes I know it's only the 24th but I’ll be back on actual christmas day with the next chapter tho so please don’t be mad at me and I’m very sorry for this (┬┬﹏┬┬)

Anyways, I would like some reblogs as my present this year <333

Taglist: @atahensic @anomiewrites @leahstypewriter @madame-ree @melpomenismask @littlemisscalamity @phillyinthebathroom @gaypeaches @extrabitterbrain @pirateofblood @i-wanna-be-a-rock