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apatchworkstar · 1 year

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Hi! This is the second part of the first tarot spread within MeMe, specifically cards 6 through to 8 (likely of three, though you know how big these things can get; especially when it’s a deep dive!). You may be asking “This isn’t the person who posted the first couple of posts, why are you doing this?” and well. @gunsli-01/ @archivalofsins and I figured it might be a fun idea to alternate which blog each part of the tarot readings are on! The prior posts to be put up on her blog, then some on mine. That being said, this is mostly her words, with the occasional interjection from me.

I hope that you enjoy what is here, and a thanks in advance!

Here

6/Below Subconscious: Ten of Wands Reversed

Wands in Mikoto’s tarot deck is represented by baseball bats. A different type of wand where, with just a wave of your arms, whatever problem you face will magically be replaced with a new, easier to solve problem. That is, if you’re good at disposing of a body of course. Something one of the Mikotos seems to be pretty decent at. So, hooray!

At a point the fandom is really going to have to discuss Mikoto and Amane comparing metal bludgeoning weapons like bats and metal pipes to wands

(Star here! A branch off point to the above is the fact that baseball and the idea of magical girl groups can be paralleled with the way of living both Mikoto and Amane have. To be more specific, the idea that they are expected to gain victory/success all the time + the idea of being a smaller part in a larger ‘team’ that has to run like a well-oiled machine to function properly and the pressure that comes with it.

Mikoto’s struggles can be compared to baseball in the sense that he’s consistently expected to put in as much physical and mental effort to secure the main goal of the group. This is to the point of putting these pressures on himself and observing other people’s behaviors with that in mind. A prime example of this is when he tells Fuuta that his behavior is attention-seeking:

Mikoto: Hey, it’s kinda a bother having you be so angry and tense all the time. You should stop trying get everyone to pay attention to you. You’re a uni student, right? You can’t act like that once you start working properly.

Futa: Huh!? Shut up. Not like I care what you say. Even though we’re in this shitty situation, you’re just chatting away, it’s stupid. Aren’t you the one who’s acting out of place here? ……also the fact you give everyone nicknames is just gross.

Mikoto: *sigh* It’s more stupid to be taking this all so seriously. I mean, it’s definitely just a reality TV program. There’s no way a real prison exists that’s this lax. Also, I don’t give nicknames to everyone. I don’t give them to young kids like Amane, or to the hard-to-approach types like Shidou-san. I mean, I’m not giving you one, right?

Futa: ……oi, which group are you trying to say I am?

He goes by the ideals that in a more adult based world {i.e. within a working force as opposed to an educational setting} not only are you meant to carry your own weight, but you’re also supposed to make things go as smoothly as you can for others and make sure your effort doesn’t go to waste. This is something he is called out for by Yuno when she asks about if it’s tiring to smile so much:

Yuno: Hey, Mikoto-san. Don’t you get tired being so conscious of others all the time? I mean, you’re free to do what you want though.

Mikoto: Eh…… Aha, what are you talking about? I’m not being conscious or anything. It’s normal to make sure to get along with everyone, right? I mean, when you put it like that, aren’t you the same, Yun-chan? You’re always smiling and getting on with everyone too.

Yuno: I don’t smile unless I actually want to. But with you, when you’re talking with other people it’s more like you only smile deliberately. So I kept thinking, don’t your cheeks get tired?

Ah, is this just what happens when you become a working adult? ……you see people like that sometimes.

Mikoto: Haha, you don’t mince your words do you.…….that was never my intention, but now that you mention it, yeah, I guess I do. This might’ve been since I started my job too…… But like, if I was rude to everyone I met, all my efforts would come to nothing, right?

A character example of what I mean, at least with baseball, is Yamamoto Takeshi from Katekyou Hitman Reborn! Specifically, his introduction. For those of you who don’t know, in the manga Yamamoto is introduced as a mainstay character when he picks the protagonist to be on his team for P.E.. After they lose, he helps the protagonist and ends up asking him for advice. As it turns out, he’s worried about holding his team back because it seems no matter how much he tries, his skill at baseball is diminishing. The protagonist suggests putting in more effort and he agrees, saying that he’ll stay behind to do practice more. The next day, he’s at the top of the roof wanting to jump because in overexerting himself, he broke his arm. This, in terms of the team he’s in, makes him an immediate detriment as opposed to where he was before. At least then, he was still able to play, even if there was a feeling of stagnation.

Amane’s is more comparable to the ideals and moral standards that magical girls are stereotypically held to. This can be paralleled to how the members of her cult hold her to a certain standard and level of belief even if she {at least initially} didn’t subscribe to those beliefs herself.)

Now, it’s the ten of wands. How much can the card vary outside of the baseball bats? Well, that’s the trickiest part about the wand cards. The depiction of wands varies greatly based on what tarot decks an individual uses. However, the wands are generally represented with a stick of some kind. The thing that changes the most is the position the wands are shown in, just as we see here with Mikoto’s variant.

The ten of wands is usually portrayed by a person carrying a large bundle of sticks in their arms, being noticeably burdened by it as they head towards a town. How the wands are carried and what they are made of tend to vary. However, they tend to be carried by a person.

This is noticeably not the case in Mikoto’s version where the wands are holding themselves up.

They almost resemble a mock bridge or passage. I wish I had something to connect this back to, but at this time I don’t. I can’t really grasp what would make Mikoto or the staff design this card this way.

(Star here again! And I’m just jumping in real quick to posit a guess; it looks like those gates at level crossings.

A level crossing is where a railway crosses a road or right of way on the level; that means without the use of a tunnel or bridge. This includes footpaths, bridleways and cycle ways.

The gates are there to prevent people going over it when a train is incoming. And where does at least part of his crime take place~?)

The sixth card in a Celtic spread is meant to represent the subconscious state of the asker. The Ten of Wands usually represents that the asker has completed a trial of sorts or is getting out of a period of struggle, the querent reaching success afterwards. Even though that may sound all well and good, this newfound success comes with new responsibilities. As such, the Ten of Wands also alludes to the querent facing new challenges and becoming the go to problem solver in relationships.

However, since it’s in reverse the meaning changes completely. It warns the asker that they are becoming burdened or constricted by things that are not a necessity within their life. Advising that they find the matters that won’t bring them any happiness, even if they were resolved successfully and drop them completely. If it doesn’t add value to the querent’s life, then it needs to go. Once gotten rid of, the querent will have sobriety of thought and move forwards in a more accurate way.

Now, Mikoto’s conscious and subconscious are completely out of whack, right? Not surprising, one’s outward appearance rarely perfectly reflects their inner self. Yet, the dissonance between these two states is concerning.

Outwardly, Mikoto is attempting to be amicable but according to this card, on some subconscious level, he knows that doing such a thing isn’t beneficial to him. Not just emotionally, but in any actual way. It brings no value to his life to behave in this fashion but he’s consciously pushing forward with it anyway and continuing to bite his tongue. When really, he should just let it out and be done with it.

“You don’t have to keep it in and hide it away.”

7/Advice or Your Influence: King of Cups Reversed

The King of Cups in Mikoto’s tarot deck is represented by several cups scattered behind the word King.

In some tarot decks the King of Cups has been depicted with fair hair, warm blue eyes and covered in blue armor with orange wings with what has been said to be their personal symbol, the peacock, adorning their crown while riding a horse. The cup they hold either having a crab inside of it or adorning the vessel in reference to the Astrological sign Cancer. It’s horse, implied to be graceful and steady, able to prance across the waters without ever disturbing the fish jumping about its hooves. The background of the card being violet, a mix of red and blue. This is meant to depict a combination or union between the elements Water and Fire.

As impressive as that sounds and how much I would love to see Mikoto depicted like that, either one of them to be honest… Nowadays, the King of Cups is more commonly depicted by a King sitting on their throne, wearing a fish amulet and surrounded by water on all sides. Sound familiar-?

(Since Gunsli brought up how Mikoto mirrors the King of Cups, I feel this is the perfect time to go into how Mikoto and Muu both have associations with royalty but in different manners. Mikoto is associated with royalty in the sense that he’s a “King of the People”. In other words, the type of royalty that works for the people. Their power comes from how liked they are within the general populace. On one hand, having this type of power means that they’d be generally well liked but on the other, it means their capacity to keep said power is far less stable than other types of leadership. Since it’s dependent on how the larger populace favours them, it means the less they are liked, the less influence they have to throw around. The line that best showcases this idea in conjunction with this reading of the king of cups is this one:

All those ridiculous accusations / Hurting it, holding it down, it doesn't change anything, does it

However, Muu’s association with royalty is more akin to the concept of “Divine Right”, as shown blatantly with this line:

I told you I’m queen, and it’s always the same/ God gave me everything, everything is as I wish

For those who don’t know, divine right in terms of royalty is the idea that the person in power was pre-ordained to rule by god, and thus chosen and shaped in their image. It’s considered that those chosen by such a rule have no need to answer to any form of democracy or the regular populace since their status has already been ‘chosen’ by a higher power. Instead, they can only be judged by the ‘god’ that considered them worthy of power to begin with and those who act against them are considered sacrilegious:

Don’t you think it’s wonderful to control them with my gentle sting/ If you want to betray from jealousy/ You know what’s gonna happen ON YOU

Despite this, she tries to come off as a “King of the People” in After Pain, highlighting the lack of esteem she has in everyone’s eyes now, and how that has made her feel as though her influence lacks power because no one wants her around anymore.

If I was gone, If I had just disappeared/ I overheard, I found out/ How much I’m not needed

My sorry spells must be wearing off/ But I guess some of it is my fault/ Maybe it’s ok as it is/ I want to feel “alive”, is it ok if I breathe?/ Tell me

If you’re going to make me the villain/ It’s ok to ignore me/ If it’s endurance, I’m used to it./ It’s just having another taste of it

This makes the snippet that we got of Mikoto’s next song fairly interesting. After all…

I should have saved you, but why are you crying?/ Rely on me, praise me with your song, I am your savior

...What is a god, but a savior to the masses?)

In the background of the card to the left, fish can be seen jumping about. On the right side, there is a ship sailing the waters. The fish in the background and the amulet the King of Cups wears is meant to represent their creativity and spirit. Both of which is implied to be sustained by the water surrounding them.

The boat and fish within the background is meant to represent the balance between the emotional and material realms. This depiction is meant to illustrate that the King of Cups has a handle of things and the querent has learned not to suppress their emotions or impulses instead recognizing and dealing with them in a controlled balanced manner.

I bet a lot of people started to understand why it’s reversed now. Also, modernly the King of Cups tends to be more associated with the Astrological sign Scorpio. The water sign generally depicted as being fiery.

The King of Cups is known as The Lord of The Waves and Water, The King of Undines and Nymphs, and The Fire of Water. It is the most active and aggressive out of all the royal tarot cards to be associated with water. For some time, Water has been used to represent the subconscious of the human mind, and The King of Cups is no exception. It is said to represent the creative spark of humanity that ignites and gives birth to unconscious images. In a way, representing the imagination or, if one wishes to think of it from a more negative perspective, intrusive thoughts.

When in the Upright position the King of Cups represents the querent’s abilities to restrain their emotions. Showing that they are in full control of their feelings and impulses and the relationship between their feelings and reasoning is balanced and fair. However, as we all know, the King of Cups appears here in its reversed form. It’s much darker and complicated evil for- nah, I’m sorry, I’ll stop blowing things out of proportion. I’m just happy to be getting back to this after the whole Mu situation.

It's not that bad. Ha, ha, it’s worse… Now I left something out about the King of Cups upright meaning. It’s not just about having a reign on both one’s feelings and logical reasoning. It is also connected to understanding or being aware of oneself. Sure, one can usually objectively believe that what they’ve done or how they’ve done it may be irrational but knowing for certain why they responded that way can be a murky endeavor. One can also emotionally discern when logic does not serve their emotional health/security or when their personal feelings aren’t being considered due to the logic being used.

Being able to actively take into account one’s emotions and then apply logic to them takes a level of personal understanding and recognition that Mikoto has admitted to lacking already. If one doesn’t have that type of emotional understanding of themselves, they are more likely to invalidate their emotions or if they have too much of an understanding of themselves invalidate logic. This is why the balance that The King of Cups alludes to is so important.

Because if it’s broken, one state of thinking will be valued over the other which will ultimately lead to dysfunction of some kind.

Now when you reverse The King of Cups- The King already said to be the most aggressive of the royal water cards residing in the tarot- you get one hell of a tyrant. It’s time to get aggressive.

People not listening? Time to make them listen through emotional manipulation. Get volatile. Huh, members of the court are saying the king seems moody. Don’t fret about that. They’re wrong; what do they know? They came asking, seeking council, right? If they don’t like the answer they received, doesn’t that mean they weren’t truly seeking an answer to begin with, just validation of their beliefs? At that point they shouldn’t have even asked! How dare they waste the King’s time.

Aren’t people who come begging for guidance and then complain about the advice given the literal worst? The trash of society, actually. The King is being nice by just listening and they still want more. Greedy ass, self-absorbed, peasants; don’t they see the King is swamped already? When are they going to listen to King, huh?!

In fact, they’ve got a lot of nerve even questioning the King! What is this, a coup?!

So, we’re in a bit of dangerous territory now. The King of Cups is all out of sorts. The balance they had before has completely deteriorated. They’ve lost their ability to handle any situation with compassion and wisdom, having difficulties when it comes to dealing with everyone seeking their help. They may appear kind and understanding to some and cold and dismissive to others.

They may now be using all their communicative talents and emotional knowledge in questionable ways. Manipulating the people around them and their circumstances to create their ideal situation.

Depending on the reading, this could be the querent themselves or represent someone else within their life. However, this is the seventh card in a Celtic Tarot spread and this is one of the cards that remains consistent between the two spreads.

It can either be representative of advice for the querent or the querent’s own influence. Now I wouldn’t blame anyone for believing Your Influence means how Mikoto impacted his circumstance but it’s not that. It’s his influence on himself.

To be more specific, this card can be read to represent how the querent views themselves and how that is affecting the situation overall. Before going into that heavy topic, let’s talk about the card from an advice standpoint.

First, let’s take the interpretation from the angle that the King of Cups isn’t referring to Mikoto himself but someone else within his life.

If that is the case, then The King of Cups could be advising Mikoto to be careful because someone within his life isn’t acting in good faith. Instead, someone is manipulating his situation to suit their own means. So, even if he isn’t yet aware of how this is being done or by who, he should be diligent and question any favors being asked of him or even any spontaneous favors being done for him.

In every situation he should be pondering things like, “Is this too good to be true?”, “How does this help me?”, “How does it help them?”, “Why would they want to do something like this?” etc. In order to avoid possibly being taken advantage of. It also implies that the person in his life that has become this way was not always like that. They usually had a grasp of their emotions and responded to things calmly. However, lately they have become manipulative and emotionally controlling.

They are seeking vengeance and vindication, an impulse they’d usually be able to control. All for the aim of administering punishment.

This card stays the same throughout the spreads because Mikoto’s situation hasn’t changed; only the person or system administering punishment has. Mikoto possibly went from one form of punishment directly to another. Something that could be supported by the repeated use of this line,

“I won’t forgive you if this is happening to me even though I’m right.”

“So, I will NEVER forgive you if this is happening to me even though I’m right.”

The only line both Mikoto’s seem to agree on and sing being one that implies they’re being disproportionately or wrongfully punished is definitely something that the tarot highlights more. Especially given how this card stays consistent throughout both spreads, but the meaning changes greatly based on the last card in the second spread being Death, a sign of new beginnings and chances.

Even though there is a chance of him being incorrectly punished, there is also a high chance that he’ll be able to get a second chance and start fresh. Which is literally what voting in Milgram is about.

So, while I personally believe this is the correct interpretation. As always, we’re going to go through every possible option.

This card could also be representative of Mikoto. In that case, it would be advising him that his perspective has become too skewed in one direction. He’s no longer thinking of the consequences of his actions or how they may affect others. Anger and the idea of getting revenge is restricting his judgement. Even though following through on this impulse would feel great or vindicating in the short term, it won’t go well in the long run.

It advises him to try to regain balance between his logic and emotions again. When it comes to careers, a focus of Mikoto’s, this card can also allude to continuing to work somewhere even though it is no longer fulfilling. It’s basically another sign that he needs to introspect and take stock of his emotions before acting in any way. Similarly to what the Five of Swords advised.

Now, the last and most interesting of the interpretations one can draw from this card in the Celtic Spread is this being how Mikoto views himself and how it impacts his situation.

By that logic, that would mean Mikoto thinks he’s a rather terrible and demanding person. This would also explain the gap between his conscious and subconscious as depicted by the cards drawn.

His Conscious card alluding to the fact that he’s attempting to remain amicable while his Subconscious one suggests he knows that behaving this way is unbeneficial. These two states of being begin to make some sense if we consider this card as representing his feelings towards himself. If he already believes he’s being demanding or too much, he wouldn’t really start asking for more or complaining about his situation. More than likely, he'd lean into being more amicable and useful just to feel like he’s not being troublesome and, in some way, justify being where he’s managed to get.

This would create a cycle of overworking to prove his own worth then feeling taken advantage of as a result. Ultimately, feeling like a worse or more demanding person because if he didn’t want to do these things he could’ve just said no, he could’ve just stopped. That was always an option and logically he has no one but himself to blame for not taking it. However, the imbalance between his emotional state removes saying “No” from the table entirely.

Let’s go back to the Queen of Swords. Yeah, remember how the Queen of Swords basically suggested Mikoto had an issue but was incapable of conveying it? This card gives us a clearer understanding of what that issue is. In fact, this card may be the last piece to discern what the conflict was.

From all the information we have on Mikoto- The new job, the tarot cards, the lyrics in MeMe; they all point to one thing. Mikoto was accepted to what should have been his dream job. His goal all along, a respectable job at a highly renowned company. It’s everything he’d been working towards but he was never working towards getting that job while taking himself fully into consideration. He didn’t want this job. He was just acting logically while ignoring his feelings on the matter.

In the Portal Timeline Post from 20/07/15 during a conversation with Amane; Mikoto says this when asked if he feels studying is enjoyable,

“Not at all! It’s just a means to an end. I only did the bare minimum needed to get into a good company. Even when it came to enrolling into college I sought out an arts university with low subject requirements. Then from there I studied curation and- Uh, you probably wouldn’t know what any of those terms are yet, huh? Hmm, since your way of speaking is so mature, I sometimes forget I need to explain myself properly instead of assuming you’d just know.”*

After being assured by Amane that if there’s anything she wants more clarity on she’ll just look into it herself and asked if he’s good at drawing he responds,

“No, not really… Of course I could do the bare minimum needed to pass the entrance exam though. Even though it’s considered an arts university, there’s still subjects where one wouldn’t need to draw at all. I’m the sort of person that likes to keep things efficient if I can. So, I worked backwards. First I looked into what sort of occupation I wanted to go into then chose subjects related to that occupation to study like direction and management~ …Ah, wait I’m doing it again…”*

*The translation here has been altered by me to add more clarity the direct translation can be found here.

How does this show that Mikoto wasn’t taking into account his personal feelings when it came to pursuing his occupation? He never really says or shows enthusiasm towards the occupation he chose. He doesn’t really particularly believe he’s good at art. His focus when discussing studying wasn’t enjoyment of the process but instead a focus on a particular outcome. That outcome being employment.

Mikoto’s main focus throughout his school life wasn’t finding anything he enjoyed doing but finding the most secure path to stable employment.

This sort of mentality is commonly found in individuals who grew up in households that underwent financial stress or were impoverished. A more recent and extreme example of this mentality has been Kobeni from Chainsaw Man. However, I’m not suggesting Mikoto’s case is that extreme in the slightest.

Kobeni is forced to work life endangering and degrading jobs and send all her money back to her family to support her other siblings. Her situation is extreme and clear fiscal abuse. However, Mikoto isn’t as far off from Kobeni as one would believe.

Did you know that children raised in poverty tend to become adults with an inclination towards more extravagant items? They spend more than their peers who were more well off than them once reaching adulthood. This is due to a lot of factors. However, to put it simply once they get a job of their own and have fiscal security and control some will play catch up trying to experience all the things they didn’t get to growing up.

Like going on trips to amusement parks, buying video game consoles, expensive phones, clothing. They could even begin to enjoy shopping as a hobby even favoring expensive/luxury items that they may have had very little access to while younger like bubble tea, horse-meat sashimi. All things Mikoto admits to liking in his interrogation.

Q.18 What are your favorite foods?

Mikoto: Horse-meat sashimi, pasta and bubble tea.

Q.07 What are your hobbies?

Mikoto: shopping / darts / photography / cycling

Many children who grow up in poverty aren’t afforded the same emotional luxuries as their wealthier counterparts. This includes individuals that are not only rich but the middle class as well. Living outside of poverty allows many people to have hope in their futures and the belief that they have more than one option.

This leads to the next issue with growing up in poverty. People’s parents expect them to do better than they did. At times, even seeing their children not as children but a means to get themselves out of poverty. There’s this pressure, intended or not, to do well and not cause problems. Because the child usually sees how their parents struggle financially and either wish to avoid making them worry or avoid turning out like them.

Q.16 What’s your relationship like with your parents?

Mikoto: My parents are divorced. I get along well with my mother though, she’s the one who raised me. I don’t want to make her worry.

This could end up making a person continually feel the need to validate their worth through material objects and accolades.

Q.08 What’s the most rewarding part of your current job?

Mikoto: I mean, it’s the top advertising agency in the industry? Anyone would be proud to be a part of it. I put a lot of work in just to get here, too.

Because these accolades and expensive purchases serve to show their peers that they’re not helplessly unrefined, they’re not broke, they are a fully grown self-sustainable adult. They can afford to eat an expensive dish or two and of course they’re fashionable. That’s just to be expected. I mean, come on they aren’t that helpless or unpopular. It’s only natural that they can do this much.

Ever heard the saying a poor man acts rich but a rich man acts poor? Or as the bible put it; One man pretends to be rich but has nothing; another pretends to be poor but has great wealth? It’s this concept, personified.

To appear on the same level as one’s peers one will flaunt wealth they don’t have. Some African Americans even refer to this as keeping up with the Jones’.

Isn’t it odd that Mikoto seems to have such expensive taste but lives in a minimalistic apartment with a record player on the cheaper side and throughout his MV we see him wearing the same outfit each day? Despite many of the others within Milgram, outside of Mu who’s in uniform for the most part, changing clothes multiple times. Even Futa is shown to have a closet of clothes in his MV. We see Mikoto wearing the same outfit outside and evening wear throughout all of MeMe.

Though maybe we’ll see him in some other clothes during Double.

The only things within his apartment are what appears to be a fold out couch, a single or “Double” sized bed, a desk off in the corner given the chair, and his television and the stand it’s on which is literally not a stand but a table.

It’s the other table we see within his mental space at the beginning of MeMe.

If he works from home, then the most expensive thing in his home would be his apple computer that we see on the desk he’s resting on in Undercover.

If that is, in fact, located within an office at his company and not within his home the most expensive thing that he owns is his television.

Now that I think about it, aren’t some of Mikoto’s hobbies strange, like maybe the way he gets to work?

To continue to put up an appearance of affluence, many people will sacrifice certain modern luxuries. You know, like biking instead of taking the train to work. In Japan, depending on the district, the train costs money. Money that Mikoto may not be able to afford.

Just like with buses in the states. Some people may find a one-time expense like buying a bike more beneficial and financially efficient in the long term than paying the fare each day or getting a car, which is expensive by itself and requires one to constantly pay for gas. Considering all this, it is likely that Mikoto grew up in a not so financially stable situation.

This would, of course, cause him to have more anxieties around losing his job and falling back into poverty as a result than being wrongfully arrested for murder. Did you know poor people are falsely imprisoned for crimes all the time? Just from being in the wrong place at the wrong time. The wrong place usually being the neighborhoods they live in.

This could easily tie into what Mikoto says when he says Es and Milgram are mistaken. He proposes that they “Um, they got the wrong person. I can’t imagine they’d know the details of what we look like. They mistook me for someone else in terms of gender or clothing style. Something along those lines.”

Mikoto comes out the gate saying he was wrongfully profiled and is now undergoing a false arrest. Which, at least when concerning US law is completely true. Everyone being in Milgram would be considered a false arrest. Technically, they don’t have enough probable cause to arrest any of them, let alone incarcerate them for long stretches of time. Mikoto and Amane seem to be the ones who notice this the fastest. They also don’t share this information with the class.

Kazui assumes Milgram is tied to an organization of some sort- possibly military related- and is afraid to see who’s pulling the strings. His assumption leans towards the concept of higher governmental powers being associated with Milgram. Kotoko’s volition to align herself with the system showcases that her and Kazui may be a bit more delusional than Mikoto or Amane. The fact that Kazui and Kotoko hold Milgram in high regard is indicative of their own self-aggrandizing natures.

Mikoto and Amane, two people who seem to have been humbled by life, know for certain that the system doesn’t care enough about them to intervene here. Amane, from the situation with her family’s cult, and Mikoto from literally just being alive, at all. Jackalope says Mikoto is like mass-produced goods in the version of Es’ voice drama translation that I’ve seen. The closest thing to that in American English and what I took it to mean was that Mikoto was a dime a dozen.

Kazui and Kotoko both think since this facility caught them then it must be strong. It has to be tied to something important, meaning it can either give them the power or the punishment they’re seeking. “Why would they or their individual actions matter to a facility such as that?” Is a question that never once occurs to them while thinking over what Milgram may or may not be. The both of them willfully fail to grasp what Es has been saying, that Milgram is Milgram and is disconnected from the law that they know.

There are so many people out there like Mikoto that we’d just refer to them as society at that point. Yet, that makes him easily replaceable; he’s not exceptional or one in a million. He’s not special and Jackalope asserts this immediately. It doesn’t matter how many talents Mikoto has or how hard he works. In every system, he’s just an office worker, the smallest cog in the world’s biggest machine where you’re either hated by people unluckier than you (the unemployed) or belittled and harassed by those above you (management, CEOs, rich people).

Because far be it for an office worker to complain about workload or long hours. Did they forget how replaceable they are? They should be happy companies don’t have a machine do all their work to save on costs of labor. The company’s money puts food on their table and keeps their utilities on. So, be happy because it could just as easily find someone more grateful to sit in that chair you’ve grown so used to. The company works you like a dog, feeds you scraps, and if you whine or cause trouble takes you out back to put you down.

That’s just how business works. Then on top of that, he has these kids asking him why he’s such a sellout/kiss ass. Going I only smile when I want to smile. Well good for you. Then at the notion that behaving in this way may be necessary for survival for some adults just going being an adult is tough, huh? Not for everyone.

Not for most of the people in Milgram actually. It wouldn’t even be difficult for Futa to get a job out of college given that his father could give him a recommendation. He could even buff up his resume by doing some work for his older sister as well if necessary. Mu’s family is rich and Yuno’s family is well off, given she admits to living not just with her mom and brother but both of her grandparents as well. That’s at least five people under one roof and she still has her own separate bedroom as seen in Umbilical.

Kazui has been discrete about showing his home life and I kind of doubt the flat we see in Half is where he lives. Yet, even if it is, he’s living in a more affluent complex than Mikoto. He’s in a high-rise with a balcony. His first trial song implies he goes to see stage plays and he wears expensive suits while on stage. Kazui is good, he’s doing fine. That’s not even going into how difficult it is to retire in most countries now but he’s just sitting on his ass at home before he winds up in Milgram to his own admission at 39 years old.

Q.15 What time do you go to sleep and wake up?

Kazui: Since I’m not working, I’m able to do whatever I feel like. I just sleep when I feel tired, and I usually wake up in the morning sometime.

There are people in their seventies still working in Japan. He's not even that fucking old, how does he have this much free time?! What the fuck did he do for a living to retire before fifty?! The fact that he studied multiple forms of martial arts speaks for how well off he was. Since training in those costs money and he trained in three forms of them. His family is probably also rich and that’s the reason he’d be a disappointment to them.

If they put all this money into his upbringing and he’s just a playboy, yeah, I’d be disappointed too. Even worse, he could be at home with a bunch of free time because his family ran a company and he’s now inherited their wealth. He said they considered him an embarrassment, not that they disowned him! Hell, if they consider him such an embarrassment and they’re established in any way they could just as easily be sending him money, so he stays out of trouble or at least doesn’t bring trouble to them.

Despite saying his family considers him an embarrassment he goes on to say his family structure is only him now. Which is vague because they can’t find you an embarrassment if they aren’t around anymore. A lot of Kazui’s answers conflict with each other. Though in this case, family could be referring to two different types, like the family that raised him and then the family he created himself. He also mentions his friend multiple times.

Saying that he has a childhood friend he looks up to and respects. Yet when asked, “Who do you want to see right now?” he answers, “They won’t see me anymore.” It’s implied later from question 17 that Kazui’s friend isn’t the one that won’t see him anymore since he answers, “Relax and go trawling. The childhood friend I mentioned before has a boat.”

I don’t know why anyone who knows someone won’t see them anymore would make plans with them if the world was ending.

Though let’s save all of Kazui’s inconsistencies for later. Basically, everyone else in Milgram is here like good thing we’re all middle class with big homes that have multiple rooms, being given allowances by our parents, or just still living with them. That or they are expressly rich in some cases. Oh, or they’re doctors, going to law school, or an old man that went to a sports university who openly states he has nothing but free time now anyway.

If I was there and wasn’t trying to be nice or understanding, I would want to kill everyone in that prison outside Amane. These well-off bastards really did just kill people because they were fucking bored or offended. Then some have the audacity to go why not just speak/behave honestly? Hm, maybe because saying what one really feels can get them fired and there’s a very small divider between unemployment and homelessness.

This dude is in Milgram like ha, ha funny joke guys if I don’t get to work soon though I will end up homeless- I’ll have to move back in with my mother at best, showing her that I’m a failure as a son and person who couldn’t hack it as an adult or at worst, live on the street. Ha, ha if I lose my job, you better take responsibility warden. Every hour this dude spends in Milgram is an hour he is not getting paid. It's been two years; his shit is probably on the street or was taken by his landlord if it was worth enough.

Even though the everyone is dead theory would be the most boring resolution to this debacle, I hope it’s true because he definitely has nowhere to go back to at this point. I was recently joking about Mikoto’s landlord being Mu’s dad. He’s probably already exported all Mikoto’s furniture.

Now, in 2022 the homeless population in Japan was rounded off to be 0%. This is because the homeless population in Japan currently sits at a little over three thousand people. This is far less than other countries but the 0% here does not mean no homeless individuals exist. This drop in homelessness was related to the pandemic. In response to Covid-19 cybercafes in Japan were shutdown. This was a bit of an issue since most of the homeless there used these cafes for shelter.

In order to fix this issue, they allowed homeless people to take residence in empty hotels and began working on reforms to fight against homelessness. Which is great news, but Mikoto wouldn’t know that. So, his concern is very much still valid. If he believes he didn’t kill anyone and this mistake will all be sorted out of course it makes more sense for him to concern himself with what may happen after.

Viewing it that way, it is reasonable for this to be his biggest concern. Because he can’t live here forever, and he has responsibilities as he keeps saying; HE’S A WORKING ADULT!

Unlike everyone else within Milgram. Kazui has no job, Shidou has job security and is considered an essential worker outside of Milgram, and EVERYONE ELSE IS NOT A WORKING ADULT! Even counting Yuno for the work she does- She’s more financially well off than Mikoto and still living with her family. It would be nice for people to grasp what it means to have your entire life and fiscal safety banking on who likes you or how well you perform. Along with the amount of mental stress that can put a person under.

This ties into the first interpretation of the King of Cups as well. Where we went over why this card possibly remains the same throughout both readings, “This card stays the same because throughout the spreads Mikoto’s situation hasn’t changed only the person or system administering punishment has.”

In the end Mikoto has still moved from one situation where he had no control over his life or feelings to another.

Before Mikoto is brought into Milgram, he’s just a 23-year-old office employee that lives alone in a small apartment. He has no one to financially depend on but himself. Unlike other characters. He either doesn’t have this support because he doesn’t want to make his family worry and hasn’t asked, or his family doesn’t have it like that anyway and wouldn’t be able to help. He didn’t live his life this way because of low self-esteem or a lack of faith in himself.

It was a meticulously planned out response for the sole purpose of avoiding poverty. He literally could not afford to dream.

Okay, okay Gunsli but is poverty in Japan really that similar to that in other countries? Well according to Japan Today, The Nippon Foundation, and The Borgen Project; yes. Yes, it is.

An article on The Borgen Project website titled “10 Facts about Poverty in Japan” from July 12 of 2020 states,

“1. Less than one percent of Japan is homeless. As of 2018, Japan has a population of 126.5 million people. According to the latest Ministry of Health, Labor, and Welfare statistics, Japan’s current homelessness figure stands below 5,000. This is a steady decline from nearly 26,000 people without homes in 2003. While this appears to be a remarkable feat of social reform, the truth is that the Japanese government commits millions of dollars every year to ensure homelessness remains low. The goal is to ensure that the Japanese economy appears strong. In reality, poverty in Japan is increasing. The dozens of government reforms Japan enacts each year are extremely costly and are approaching unsustainability.”

This is the same percentage we highlighted in the previous statement regarding homelessness. That information came from Tomorrow City in an article titled “HOMELESSNESS IN JAPAN: THE COUNTRY WITH THE SMALLEST PERCENTAGE OF HOMELESS PEOPLE” published on December 13, 2022. The Borgen article goes on to state,

“2. Japan is “the most equal major society” in terms of wealth distribution. According to the Statista Research Department, a total of 92% of the Japanese population has anywhere from $10,000 to $1 million in either assets or wealth. On paper, these figures appear to demonstrate an extremely healthy economy; however, they hide the fact that poverty in Japan is well over 16%. The notion that 92% of Japanese citizens fall into some category of “wealthy” may be misleading, serving as a straw-man statistic booster.

“3. A rising percentage of individuals in Japan are poverty-stricken. Japan has seen a huge and sudden rise in poverty and poor economic conditions, especially since 2012. According to The Guardian, 3.5 million Japanese children live in poverty-stricken homes. Since 1991, poverty has increased as a systemic problem for Japan, reaching 16.3% this past year. This figure could continue to rise dramatically as the working population decreases.”

And

“5. Japan pours a ton of resources into battling unemployment. Poverty in Japan entered an unprecedented era of severity after a major drop in workforce members in 1991. Before 1991, unemployment hovered just below 2% for decades, then rose drastically to nearly 6% by 2002. In fact, this singular event nearly toppled Japan as a world economic leader. Today, Japan has returned to a nearly 2% unemployment rate, although the country has had to pour a huge amount of financial resources in order to accomplish this stabilization. The country still has not fully recovered.”

The Nippon Foundation Article titled “Addressing Child Poverty” that briefly goes over research results from December 2015 that analyzed how childhood poverty negatively impacted Japan overall states,

“Japan’s rate of child poverty is above the OECD average. Overall, the rate has been rising since the 1980’s, and today one in seven children lives in poverty. The child poverty rate shows the percentage of children under the age of 18 who live in relative poverty. Relative poverty is defined as having income of less than one-half the national median disposable income, which for a household of one parent and one child means a monthly income (including public assistance) of 140,000 yen or less. Children raised in these households are at an extreme disadvantage in terms of medical care, meals, schooling, and prospects for higher education, and there is a clear trend of these children being unable to escape from poverty in the future.”

It then goes on to state that these children in poverty are technically costing the government more money and hurting the overall economy so it should be fixed. Which well they’ve got the spirit I guess- Anyway, JapanToday published an article on June 12, 2022 titled “Poverty in Japan Spreading and Deepening” that stated,

“TOKYO- Working 12 hours a day six days a week, Tohoku taxi driver “Junpei Noda” (a pseudonym) earned 280,000 yen a month. He didn’t know how well off he was.

It’s barely a living wage, but living with his parents he got by all right. But at 45 he’d had enough of his parents. One day, “on an impulse,” he left, went to Tokyo, flung himself into the arms of fate – which received him coldly. Six months later COVID-19 struck, dashing the hopes of this casual laborer who thought he’d found a haven of sorts working part-time at a ramen restaurant.

Poverty in Japan is spreading and deepening, says Spa (May 24-31). The pandemic was bad enough. Now there’s Russia’s invasion of Ukraine, with the worldwide economic havoc it’s wreaking. The poor get poorer, the near-poor go under, and indigence becomes a hole that almost anyone, given a bad move or a bad break – or a pandemic, or a war – can fall into – tomorrow if not today, next month if not this.”

Going on to state,

“Single mothers, pensioners and the precariously employed are especially vulnerable. “Yumi Iikura,” 48, raises two teenage daughters on her earnings as a nursing home caregiver. Sometimes working 15-hour shifts through the night until 9 a.m., she barely covers household expenses of 200,000 yen a month. Soaring gas prices are the latest jolt. A car might seem a dispensable luxury, but isn’t. Distance from her workplace is the price she pays for affordable rent. The 50-km commute was a tolerable nuisance. Now it’s a financial catastrophe.”

So, yes, poverty is a problem and tends to be one in most countries regardless of how affluent they look from the outside.

If Mikoto’s family didn’t have money, how was he ever going to go to an expensive college? Was he supposed to get a baseball scholarship? Ever consider he tried that and that’s why he says this,

Q.02 Have you ever played baseball?

Mikoto: I was really big on it when I was in high school. Though I wasn’t particularly good at it or anything. Even now if I’m feeling pent up from work, I still sometimes practice swinging.

An article published on September 23, 2021 by Asia Options titled “Unlocking Sports Opportunities in Japan” states,

“Many universities will offer their students, who have achieved a high level of athletic achievement, financial support through the awarding of scholarships. Scholarships for high performing athletes provide financial aid ranging from 50,000 to 100,000 yen for individual athletes and scholarships organised for university sports teams.”

Could it be he picked up baseball in high school not because he liked it but because it could possibly lead to a scholarship? Yet, it didn’t, so now he considers himself not very good at it. Because if he were good at it then he would’ve gotten a scholarship, right?

So, it’s not difficult to imagine him internalizing not being good enough if this is an avenue he pursued.

Sport Universities are briefly touched on in one of Kazui’s statements. On 20/06/07 when Amane asks Kazui to help her study he says,

Kazui: Hm? Haha, asking yet another question that’s hard to answer. I mean, I did graduate from university, so I’d say I’m reasonably…… ah, but it was just a sports university so maybe not…… I’m not especially confident.

Hm, I wonder if Kazui the six-foot wall was able to get a sports scholarship- Nah, sports scholarships and height have no proven correlation. This is sarcasm there is a correlation. Height is something that is generally valued when it comes to sports.

So, when committing the murders using the bat may not be Mikoto tarnishing something he loved but using one failure to take care of another. Really illustrating that, “My life, it wasn’t meant to be this way” line.

Baseball failed, his back up failed, everything was falling apart and no matter how he planned nothing seemed to work out as it should. No matter how amicable he tried to be, how flexible or helpful he attempted to come off as things kept going wrong. So, why not take out two of his frustrations at once?

“If I’m feeling pent up from work I still sometimes practice swinging.”

Something I find the most telling is Mikoto never lists Drawing or Baseball as a hobby even though he does them both. Instead, he chooses Cycling, Photography, Darts, and Shopping. Hobbies are something an individual usually does for fun because they like those things. These are the things he blatantly tells us he finds fun.

Even going as far to pick a completely different form of visual art and another sport. Supporting the idea that baseball and drawing may have just been another means to an end.

Wait- but Gunsli, Mikoto went to college, he graduated; if he was really poor, he wouldn’t have been able to go at all, right? Mikoto states to Amane,

“Even when it came to enrolling into college I sought out an arts university with low subject requirements.”

If the requirements to enroll were low than chances are Mikoto went to one Japan’s public colleges. Which would explain why when questioned about his drawing abilities he stated,

“No, not really… Of course, I could do the bare minimum needed to pass the entrance exam though. Even though it’s considered an arts university, there’s still subjects where one wouldn’t need to draw at all.”

It isn’t weird for Mikoto to have taken an entrance exam for a public college either since public colleges within Japan can still have entrance exams.

This is Mikoto’s issue, it’s not one singular thing, it’s his entire life. Just like he said in his first trial line,

“My life, it wasn’t supposed to be this way.”

This is also why he can’t complain because in a way he recognizes he did it to himself.

“If I could end, if I could stop how long would this dream go on?”

“If I could break it, if I could change- Can I do it? I wonder from when I started to give up. If I could lose it, if I could choose- Is this selfish? This isn’t too much is it?”

8/Outside Influences: 5 of Wands Reversed

In Mikoto’s tarot deck, the five of wands is represented by baseball bats in front of a red and blue moon. Keeping consistent with the format shown in the Ten of Wands. Throughout the tarot deck we see several interpretations of the moon. The Red Moon on the Devil and fool card, the Blue and Yellow moon seen on the Magician, the red and blue moon seen throughout most card iterations, the Yellow with a tinge of red moon on the five of swords, and the bluish black moon shown on the fool card.

Now, we’re going to go back to the King of Cups and Hangman cards for a moment. The Hangman was covered in the first set of five for this spread reading. Both of which are impressively long, but even if one was to read it to completion, it’s been a minute between posts. So, I doubt that information would be at the top of anyone’s mind at this point. We did go over these three colors before though. Yellow, Red, and Blue.

These are three colors prominently associated with the hangman card. I stated this in part one.

“The hangman is also associated with the motif colors of both of the Kayanos seen in MeMe. Red and Blue. It is also associated with yellow. In versions of the card the Hangman is depicted with golden blonde hair, yellow shoes, red pants and a blue shirt. The red is meant to represent the passion of humanity and the human form while the blue represents calm and reflective emotions. The yellow on the Hangman’s personage is meant to represent his intellect.”

Now since this is the first card of the spread, I had no way of knowing how important that minor detail would become. I’m not a walking encyclopedia of tarot knowledge. Nor do I have MeMe memorized from front to back. However, these colors begin to appear more integral the more the spread and the song are investigated. Particularly when it comes to the moons displayed with Mikoto’s design and the two’s association with them.

From this angle, we can discern which card is representative of what person. This is alluded to in MeMe when Mikoto sees his double through the mirror and the eyes on the tarot cards. Now if we consider the eyes on the cards to represent societal pressures and being observed by forces outside oneself. Something that is showcased more during trial 2. Particularly with the use of eyes in Backdraft, though all of the Milgram trial songs have eye imagery or imagery alluding to being watched throughout them.

Amane watching her music video near the end of Magic, Kazui being both a performer and audience member in Half, Shidou through the looks of his patients’ relatives, Yuno through the eyes of the plush rabbit in Tear Drop and the balloons in Umbilical.

I’ll cut to explain this one for a bit, because it can come off as vague or subjective. Firstly, yes, I do mean the balloons. The balloons shown throughout Umbilical represent Yuno’s relationship with society. One that seems to be of a give and take nature at a glance. Though when looked into, more alludes to a one-sided control since Yuno is the one shown to be blowing up and releasing these balloons.

This fits with the information we received from her second voice drama in regards to her being in these relationships for money and with the line we see in Tear Drop “The wanted wanting the wanter. The overlap, isn’t that some sort of perfection?” There’s a relationship in the Milgram novel quite similar to the one Yuno is describing here.

The prisoner by the name of Close discussed in the novel gets into a romantic relationship with the person harassing their close friend. Also, unimportant side note, really shady morality going on with that novel can’t believe the protagonist was voted innocent despite everything that happened being unmistakably her fault. Worst experiment ever, Jackalope was right, that thing was boring. However, the relationship between this guy and Close is one of service like the one Yuno’s statement implies.

They’re together because one has something the other wants. Close is only able to be with them because she is shown to be a threat capable of putting a stop to their desires. He realizes that Close likes him, probably because the one person she’s downright stated telling about it told him, if you know then you know.

The novel tries to cheekily cover up who told him this information by just saying I heard from someone but Close literally discusses in great detail who she talks to about this guy regularly. Even stating she may be talking about him to this person to an annoying degree. Regardless of who he overheard discussing it and when, he knows about her little crush and is willing to use it as a means of creating a scenario where they both win.

He offers to date her as long as she doesn’t report what he’s been doing to the teachers. Which she agrees to; she is not a victim in this situation and goes on to help him with his harassment of this other student. Just saying, she could have said no and been grossed out by his stalker behavior; instead she chose to use the upper hand she had for her own benefit then like foisted all the blame on this guy. Something multiple characters throughout the book do despite those same people having multiple opportunities to stop him before it got to that point.

Like, incredibly fucked up that they sat back, complacent in not stopping trouble from happening and then just claim victimhood once it does. Milgram book really had me fucked up, I was annoyed. However, in this case it’s helpful. At least when deciphering this line, “The wanted wanting the wanter.”

The wanted wanting the wanter. This means that whoever Yuno was interested in wanted her but only in one aspect like in the circumstances with Close. This is alluded to in Umbilical with the lines at the end, “Are we over? Please don’t answer. What do you want to do? Please tell me.”

Now at this point, I’m pretty much certain Yuno was partaking in pregnancy entrapment or at least attempting to. It’s been heavily alluded to if not all but stated Yuno on top of being an escort/rental girlfriend may have been partaking in sex work. I don’t know how it is where anyone else lives but where I live if a sex worker gets pregnant by one of their clients that’s a bit of an issue.

Especially since it’s usually not just assumed but at points expressly stated that they should be or will be using contraceptive. Such as the pill, that one thing they can literally put in a persons arm to stop them from getting pregnant, or female/male condoms. Yes, there are female condoms though having a male wear one is usually viewed as easier. They work similarly to tampons as in yeah it’s going in there but know what isn’t sperm.

The reason why these things are usually heavily considered is because a lot of patrons/customers of sex workers are married; at times even having multiple children or households already. So, avoiding kids is well incredibly important to not turn into a homewrecker. Yuno says the person most like her is Kazui someone known for hiding his feelings and being too cowardly to act on them, to his own admission.

Yuno laments about not being capable of being the sort of girl the one she likes is interested in. In Umbilical after she says she finally found it being a pregnancy and she goes into saying I messed up I found out she can be heard laughing and giggling to herself behind those lines. She’s pretending to be upset with the news that she’s pregnant because if it wasn’t an accident on her part and she is a sex worker than that makes it sexual assault.

Something that could easily ruin her reputation when it comes to doing that sort of work and stop her from getting money. Since that’s something generally frowned upon everywhere even when a person isn’t paying to have sex with someone else. She probably even used being 18 as an excuse for her error. Despite people familiar with Milgram knowing Yuno is a lot of things but uninformed isn’t one of them.

She quickly calls out adults like Mikoto, Kazui, and Kotoko. Recognizing quite quickly that Kotoko’s actions in the long run won’t change anything. Yet she states doing something out in the open like that won’t change anything, not that behaving in that way won’t lead to change. No, she basically goes showing your full ass like that, what an ignorant thing to do now everyone knows how you really are and will be wary. So, manipulating things discretely seems to be what Yuno does more so. She’s one to spring a pregnancy on a man and ask what do you want to do now. Despite the answer being rather obvious if she was a sex worker.

Like um not to be harsh, but I paid you for a service under the assumption that you were using contraceptive, possibly because you said you were. This is like if I paid someone to do house renovations and they got injured doing them; it’s like I thought you were going to take necessary precautions because you’re a professional, that’s why I hired you. What do you mean what am I going to do about this? Pay your medical bills, you fucked yourself up on your own equipment. They would have me fucked up, this is a job; the fucking sex work is work.

That means just as much as the worker can be exploited so can the customer. Especially if they have family and are secretly patrons to a specific worker cause that can be used as blackmail material for more money. Everyone is like Yuno got an abortion that’s her murder but do you know how fucked up it is she got pregnant to begin with if she’s a sex worker? Like has no one thought of the implications there.

What crazy adult that possibly has a family and is paying for sex is gonna be like, “No I really want to have this in the most unsafe way possible contraceptive be damned I want to ruin my life tonight. I want my kids to know I’m trash of the worst caliber and I’m gonna make sure the kids you have with me know too. I’m not loyal. I can’t pull nobody with just my personality so my money has to speak real loudly.” Then he just spends several minutes crying after like a bitch which is why in Tear Drop she’s like “Just smile.” So much.

I’m getting distracted talking about Yuno again. However, in Umbilical we see multiple balloons of different colors outside of Yuno’s. That seem to represent her clients. Presents highlighted with inverted colors also appear on the staircase. Those probably signify or are gifts the men Yuno has done this to have given her. Here are the shots that show balloons outside of Yuno’s.

The balloons also appear near the different versions of Yuno we see throughout Umbilical and Tear Drop. Possibly trying to show us which presentation of Yuno her clients favored or the ones associated with that outfit choice. The red and yellow balloons appear next to both Yuno in her school uniform and how we see her dressed in the car during Tear Drop. Alluding to more than one client knowing about both.

So, that’s super fun. Given people have been assuming that each Yuno represent separate clients. Instead of, well, the other option of her dressing to suit particular clients tastes and more than one person being able to enjoy her presenting a certain way. So, like with Mikoto here, all the characters have something alluding to the appearance they put on in front of others and how they actually feel during their songs.

Some prisoners are just blunter than others. Unlike Shidou and Yuno using balloons, gifts, and flowers. Given all of this, it wouldn’t be a stretch to speculate the moon could represent their own gaze. Since the balloons in Umbilical and the other versions of Yuno in Tear Drop can be used to represent both her and her clients, there isn’t much reason for the same logic to not be applicable here.

Jackalope claims in the second trial commencement notice that Milgram cannot restrain the other Mikoto unless he is out. However, we see Mikoto observe the other one in MeMe through the mirror then very promptly just forget about it because dissociative amnesia is bitch like that. The moon would be a good way to represent which one is currently out and who is just spectating or in the background. Ha, get it because it’s literally a part of the background of the cards.

This would serve to explain why the moon in The Fool card is so odd. Though it has edges of Mikoto’s light blue it also has darkened out spots that could very well symbolize him not being entirely aware or able to observe. Either because he blocked it out or other factors have caused him to not be able to see or remember it. Meaning the double would be out and in control at this time. The same moon on the Hangman can also be seen the beneath the hooves of the horse on the death card.

However, that means when it comes to The Devil card the one fronting would be Mikoto. Basically, all cards with a red moon in the background would be indicating the double is taking the backseat and the blue one would be indicating Mikoto is taking the backseat. Then what about the Yellow moon does this mean there’s a third Mikoto confirmed? One, dual personality representation is hard to come by, two they have really leaned into the whole Double thing, three we literally just went over how the things used to represent the prisoners in their mind can also be used to represent societies view of them.

Another prime example of that being the graffiti in Backdraft-

Perfectly illustrating how ones self-image can be impacted and warped by external factors. Something Mikoto’s tarot spread alludes to a lot. Now am I against the system idea? No. I’m just stating that certain forms of dissociative identity disorder are represented more than others and for the time being I’m enjoying having the other be represented as well. That and sadly I can’t find a way to stretch it so that more than two of them being around would make sense with the information provided and I’m not going to cherry pick in order to do so.

If anyone else can find facts that align with that, good.

No, in fact I believe it means the exact opposite. The first time the yellow moon is displayed in the tarot cards it is within The Hangman card where we see multiple eyes peering in at the bottom. The only time the moon is fully Yellow is when both Mikoto’s colors are taking a bit of a backseat. This is shown within the Five of swords, Ace of Cups, King of Cups, Queen of Cups, The Magician, The Devil, and for brevity any card depicting a Blue or red moon with bits of yellow.

As we went over during the Hangman depiction, Yellow is representative of intellect. Intellect is usually used to navigate tricky situations throughout life while taking into consideration usually not just the most efficient course but the most emotionally satisfying one for the participant. So, the yellow in the cards could represent this form of planning that Mikoto has shown off and alluded to having throughout trial one.

Further nailing this point home; in Mikoto’s shirt iteration of the card the moon behind the Hangman’s head is fully red with hints of yellow around the edges

Given all of this, it seems to be yet another aspect of society that is heavily impacting how the Mikoto’s view themselves and behave. This is why during its first and most prominent appearance within the deck it is accompanied by eyes and put directly behind an art figure that in the card version appears to be all yellow or at least much lighter than the one shown on the shirt as well. The shirt that has this design also lacks the red and darkish blue sky shown to be surrounding the moon in the card version.

This would mean that in the cards we see the red and blue moon they would be working together, both would be cognizant of what is going on, or both of their mindsets is impacting the situation. This is the same with cards that prominently display both of their colors. So basically, if it has all three of these colors all three are impacting their circumstances, two of those two things are impacting the matter, and so on. The cards with red and blue moons within MeMe are The Ten of Wands, and The Five of Wands.

It seems as though the moon in tarot deck is being used as one big eye. This could mean in cards where it is not present, none of these factors are being heavily affected by someone’s view but if those colors are present the people associated with it are being affected by that card. Such as cards like The Queen of Swords.

Now onto what this means- The Five of Wands finds itself within the outside influences position of this celtic spread. Fittingly for the discussion we just had this card embodies the outside world and how it is impacting the querent’s situation. This is another reason we went through explaining all that with the colors and how yellow may represent society and Mikoto’s attempts to navigate around or within that.

So, what does the Five of Wands mean in that context simply put let’s go over the five of wands shall we-

Context I am still recovering from a mostly all-day outing of seeing the Barbie movie- So, bear with me. Because I want to do this in a bit of unique way. This is because the five of wands is a rather unique card. As such even though it’s reversed I want to go over both meanings. So, we all fully understand the dichotomy of this card and its severity.

The Five of Wands is usually depicted in a few ways. The traditional depiction is several people brandishing five large sticks the wands haphazardly fighting with each other. It can also be interpreted as these people carrying the sticks somewhere as their sticks clash with each other and they all do their own thing. Portraying a clear lack of cohesion and conflict within the group regardless of how one interprets it. The extent of the conflict can range from jovial competitiveness to ones of a more serious nature.

Then there is the modern depiction where there are usually five wands portrayed on the card one being held in the hand of an individual or no one holding them at all. Because this is a Five card there is bound to be conflict. Just like with The Five of Swords, Five of Pentacles, and the Five of Cups. All of which deal with a conflict whether they be emotional or environmental.

However, those cards aren’t conflicts forwards and backwards. The Five of Wands no matter how you turn it is conflict without end. This is why its traditional name is The Lord of Strife. Upright or Reversed you are suffering. There is no Yes for the Five of Wands if you get this in a yes or no tarot. If it is upright it is a maybe, it is a well try it. It is the fuck around and find out of tarot cards.

Now the Five of Wands embodies the necessity of conflict. Not all conflict ends poorly, people are bound to clash with each other and through these disagreements one can within reason foster community, understanding of the individual within the whole, and move forward from it better than where they started from. This is why forwards or backwards the conflict is there, it has not been resolved and it may never be. Because on top of telling the person receiving the reading fucking try it bucko but when you get bucked don’t come saying oh to me- Reversed it is a stark warning to pull back the conflict is over and you are reaching a point in whatever relationship you are in where beyond that you will do irreparable harm. This will cause a permanent break and you should cut your losses and get yourself in check.

The querent is being told to decide whether they want to die on this hill, if they want this relationship to die on this hill, if they’re willing to kill someone over this. If all the answers to those questions are no you wipe your hands of it and move on if you’re Mikoto, well…it’s time to brandish the wand.

Because there’s a real easy way to make your problems disappear and it’s just like magic. Just of a different kind. It’s the magic of you tried the wrong one today, I am ready to die on this hill actually, I have nothing to lose, and I will take you down with me. I am fine with mutual destruction if you met yours first. You think this card is going to fucking stop me?! I’ve been given several very clear warnings before this. In this same spread!

This card wants to fuck around, you want to fuck around well guess what we about to find out together and I’m about to find out how the ground looks with you in it.

Upright, the card highlights that there may be a conflict in the asker’s life. This conflict may already exist or be brewing beneath the surface just about to bubble over. It can allude to competition in areas that the querent is not used to such as work or school. In this new environment the asker may interact with people that have the same talents who will stir up feelings of inadequacy, jealousy, envy, and greed leading to internal conflicts.

In this situation the upright Five of Wands recommends that the person asking accepts these new forms of competition as a way of bettering themselves and to let go of any malice they hold towards these new people in their life.

The Five of Wands also suggests that there may be communication problems within a team due to a situation in which everyone wants to be heard but no one is really listening to anyone else. This may lead to miscommunications, animosity forming within the team, and no one being heard overall. Ultimately causing tension and anger to accumulate until the breaking point.

Upright the Five of Wands suggest for the person asking to mediate. Get the group to talk about their misgivings and possible insecurities to hopefully resolve them. Now, I bet a good deal of people are starting to get why this is reversed from the other cards in Mikoto’s spread. Firstly, we know that he’s possibly been having trouble communicating from The Queen of Swords and he’s not feeling generous with his communication skills not really wanting to use them for the benefit of whatever group he’s in as seen through The King of Cups.

So, we’ve hit the breaking point already, whatever conflict has arisen is already a dead end which leads us to the Five of Wands reversed-

Wait, don’t go leaving now! The Five of Wands reversed mixed with the past card being the Wheel of Fortune reversed gives us a clearer idea of what occurred here. Back when we were interpreting the past card the Wheel of Fortune reversed we said it could represent that the querent has been having tough times but they may be passing soon. Because it reminds everyone that all things in life will pass, regardless of if they are good or bad.

However, a tarot spread is not just it’s parts but the sum of them. Since the Five of Wands is here and expressly states that the conflict could be brewing below the surface or already occurred that gives more context to the Wheel of Fortune. Telling us that the conflict implied through the Five of Wands and the difficulties that the Wheel of Fortune was more than likely referring to in Mikoto’s past are the same thing and at the point of this reading it has yet to be resolved.

In fact, according to the Five of Wands, instead of resolving the issue Mikoto is doing his best to circumvent it. The Five of Wands in reverse alludes to the querent avoiding all conflict by exiting the situation as quickly as they possibly can, which at times is good but can lead to a lot of animosity and frustration building up internally not only for the other people involved but on the side of the querent as well.

While everyone else involved might be happy and unaware of the issue, the querent could be stewing all on their own with these misgivings and irritations or everyone involved could be as equally miserable. However, considering at least one of his coworkers were willing to meet him after hours at an underpass and didn’t seem too much like man fuck this guy about it- The animosity does not seem shared.

Since the issue has yet to be addressed in a satisfactory way to the them, this is leading to them internalizing their anger which will lead to more problems down the line. There are only so many times that someone can avoid something, hold their tongue, and push down their anger before they end up blowing up at just the wrong time.

Also, behaving in this way doesn’t necessarily stop the behavior that is causing the conflict to cease. It warns that as much as the querent has been avoiding the conflict that they will ultimately have to address it soon. There are many times in life where walking away is an option. Many people are conflict avoidant. The Five of Wands shows up strictly to go now is not the time to be that; stop walking be here, be present, and have this conflict like an adult.

Because avoiding conflict and being amicable one hundred percent of the time is not being a proper adult. Have the conflict set your boundaries because if you don’t it’s going to get worse. Just because a person believes that them saying something for their own benefit will suddenly make them the problem since everyone else is happy doesn’t mean staying quiet is a good thing. Because staying quiet isn’t going to change the fact that they themselves aren’t doing well and no one will know that unless they say something.

However, it becomes incredibly more complicated because what Mikoto was going through was work related. Meaning his feelings frankly don’t matter because that’s just how work environments are. Hence the emphasis on being a “working” adult. So, can a person really stop being amicable if the option is be that or unemployed?

Now we are EIGHT cards deep NINETY-FIVE PAGES into this word document counting everything outside of the tarot! This is in MS Reference Sans Serif font eleven first line indented single line spacing and includes pictures. These pictures are taking up some of these pages so don’t go thinking I’ve done a lot.

However, if you’ve read this far or didn’t want to read this far let’s give a quick rundown before the end. Because this is already long and I don’t know if it will all fit in one post.

So, let’s run this down real quick.

What have we learned from the tarot so far? Mikoto’s life sucks, he was possibly financially unstable most of his life and he saw acquiring steady employment as a way of avoiding financial hardship. So, even if his company was exploitative out the gate, chances are he wouldn’t really have the wherewithal to quit. During this I even joked with another person who likes the series about how funny it would be if Mu’s dad was Mikoto’s landlord.

I discussed why it would be difficult for Mikoto to just leave his job previously when highlighting the tarot before, but this adds to that difficulty while showcasing the environmental factors that would lead Mikoto to making the decisions he did and viewing himself the way he does. This also serves to reckon with the fact that he went undiagnosed for so long. It’s not only that Dissociative Identity Disorder is difficult to diagnose, there’s also the financial factors around pursuing diagnosis and mental health treatment in any country.

Things like that take multiple sessions with a therapist to even break into. Something that, if not covered by one’s insurance provider, could cost hundreds of dollars for just one hour. Mikoto is 23 when he’s incarcerated in Milgram, this leaves him right in the vague generational area between 1995-2002 a contentious period when it comes to generational labels because no one can decide if those years of time count as Millennial or Gen Z or the secret third thing, Generation Katniss. Making that span of time a lost and vague generation with no real classification.

However, one thing people can agree on, is different years during that stretch of time are associated with more than one generation. Now, why is this stretch of time being a generation in and of itself important? Well, it's very telling. It’s a point in time in which we did have internet but it was in it’s early stages. We also had mental health services on paper but not everyone had them. In fact, everyone still doesn’t have them. Multiple disorders go undiagnosed in children of certain races and income. It’s such a common thing for the system to fail certain types of children that they call it slipping through the cracks where I am.

People are generally less inclined to care about screwing you over, neglecting, or downright overlooking you if you grow up under a certain income level or as a certain type of person. The medical educational system isn’t built for everyone and people go overlooked all the time. It’s very common and it’s usually somehow the person who slipped through the cracks job to climb back out of it. This means Mikoto doesn’t lack faith in himself because he’s naturally not confident or solely due to his home life.

There are multiple environmental factors that can impact a person’s confidence in their abilities. People are not only the byproduct of their parents but the environment they are raised in. We are all walking long form equations and every instance in our lives is just another piece of the formula. When you only focus on the part in the round brackets you miss the rest of the problem. It’s easy to think you aren’t good at anything when your environment tells you aren’t.

When you can’t get scholarships, barely get into a college with low entry requirements, or just manage to get the job you were aiming for after who knows how many attempts. It’s easy to feel ones life wasn’t meant to be this way when you plan, and plan, and plan but no matter how well you plan. How far in advance you prepare. Fuck, even if you work backwards with your end goal in mind. Your legs keep moving, your mind keeps planning, thinking this time, this is when we’ll reach the end point, this is when I’ll have finally done it.

Then the goal moves and it moves and it moves. The tasks keep piling up you seem to be moving you feel the forward momentum this situation isn’t like the last because you’re better off than where you started and the goal feels right there. IT FEELS CLOSER THAN IT EVER HAS. It is right there. It’s not a dream, a delusion, fool’s gold shining in the water it is right there. The way out something to hope for as long as you’re willing to do whatever it takes to keep going forwards because you don’t want to fail right?! You already know what failing looks like; do you want to go back to that?

It's not even like you’re asking for much. Don’t want to be rich, just well off enough to be comfortable to do freelance. Dictate your own schedule maybe do something you want to do for once instead constantly be in survival mode, because the moment you screw up that’s it. You’re poor and on the streets; are you gonna ask your mom for help move back in with her when you probably know what her finances are like already? If you work harder, you can succeed even beneath a system that’s designed for you to fail.

That’s Amane and Mikoto’s problem. They both believed there was a way out of their situations; if they just did what was asked of them, eventually they’ll treat me better, my abilities will be recognized. It’ll work out as long as I try harder. If in Magic Amane is in the process of trying, in MeMe Mikoto is at the outcome of his efforts. Yet, both their efforts led to the same conclusion; swinging a wand down as they try make their problems disappear.

Now since this has gotten long enough, in the next one we’ll be discussing the rest of the first reading and going into the conclusions. I would appreciate hearing feedback and opinions on this if anyone reads it. Secondarily, there’s a lot I have written about Mikoto separately already but I’m focused on doing this in order. It’s been fun seeing some of the thoughts I had typed down come to fruition in tiny ways throughout trial two.

I know it’s a lot and, well, it’s not all about Mikoto but the prisoners all overlap with each other in interesting ways. I think the pairings shouldn’t be the only time prisoner comparisons are made. Especially since the characters themselves compare themselves to people outside of their pair. I think out of everyone the person Mikoto has the most in common with and works best as a foil to him is Amane. Which could be part of why he has difficulty in speaking with her. Other than that yeah I’ll try to finish the last two cards when I get the chance.

However, I have a lot of family stuff and I’ve been writing this mostly on my own. It takes longer for me to process information so I do have to step back and actively do other things to fully process and better vocalize or even just figure out what it is I want to say. If I can do all this and I’ve seen all the creativity and consideration others in the fandom put into their ideas and theories.

I would encourage people write more stuff about their favorites and really take into the consideration how they not only work on their own but with the other prisoners. The conclusions you come to by doing that could just surprise you. Though you don’t gotta do it to this extent. Trust me, I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t have to. I’m actually chained up in a basement by Star, the way Mahiru allegedly had her lover and she’s currently forcing me to write all these theories. Help….

(>:- p)

#An idiot Star takes to the stage!#milgram #Mikoto Kayano #this is mostly Gunsli's work but please look forward to the dlc from yours truly!#Also please appreciate my formatting I worked hard on that at least orz #Also heads up this has been in the making for a good few months so. Yeah #I'm going to pass out cause I'm tired af

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milkywaygg · 1 year

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The Fly-Cosma ALT Story Pt. 2

After tucking and kissing all three of his children goodnights and feeding Cosmo his last bottle, Linnie sat on the edge of his bed and cried endlessly, allowing the tears to fall freely from his cheeks onto the greenish-blue sheets. He also fought hard to keep himself from staring at the photo of their wedding that rested on his nightstand, as even thicker tears escaped his emerald eyes. Taking off his reading glasses so that all he saw was a blur, Linnie continued to cry, unsure of what to do next.

‘How could I do this to my own wife?’ he thought continuously, blaming himself over and over for everything that had happened. ‘Oh, if only had I just left her alone, she’d still be here. But she really needed to be here. To witness Cosmo’s first steps…oh Nora, I’m so sorry.’

Linnie had thought about turning himself in to Jorge at Fairy World Prison. After all, he technically committed fairyslaughter, even if it was unintentional. But the more he thought about it, the more he kept thinking about his children. He had always promised them that he would always be a part of their lives until the day he died. That he would never leave or abandon them like some parents had done. But if he had gone through with turning himself in, then what would happen to the children? They would be so lost and afraid as they got shipped off to an orphanage or foster home, or something, and to Linnie, that’s basically breaking his promise.

He had also considered sending them to stay with their Aunt Daisy, his twin sister, for a little while before he flew to the prison. As much as he knew she loved her nephews and niece however, Linnie also understood that she had no experience with children and had always wanted to live her life childfree. Linnie didn’t feel that was very fair to her, especially after he had Cosmo not too long ago.

At the mention of Cosmo’s name, Linnie’s thoughts then shifted towards himself and the kids. How was he going to tell them? Chelsea and Cosmo were far too young to understand that their mother was gone for good, and he worried what Darren’s reaction towards the accident would be. It wouldn’t be surprising that Darren would try to blame him or Cosmo, especially with him being the best thing Nora had to a doppelganger.

Turning the light out so that he could be alone with his thoughts, Linnie lied down, not even bothering to get under the covers, and continued to occupy only his side of the bed, despite the now plentiful space. Linnie felt his stomach toss and turn as he repeated the events of today in his head and analyzed all the possible consequences. He never thought for one second to blame Cosmo. After all, he was just a little baby and thought that the wand was a magical toy, and it certainly wasn’t his fault that he was so magically gifted. Yet, with stronger magic, Linnie knew that as Cosmo got older, he was going to be mindful of his education and make sure he gets the help he needs, especially to prevent more accidents like this. Linnie couldn’t bear the thought of losing anyone else, especially any of his children.

Finally, after all his energy had drained out..Linnie finally started to fall asleep, his tear-stained eyes getting heavier and heavier.

“Chelsea? Darren? Would you both come downstairs for a moment please? There’s something I need to talk to you about.”, Linnie called gently after getting off the phone with Daisy, who urged him to tell them the truth. They were bound to find out eventually after all, and why make it worse by being dishonest. Linnie held Cosmo in his arms gently and sat down on the rocking chair in the living room, while the two older children scurried downstairs, Darren’s hands in the air for some odd reason.

“Whatever it is, I didn’t do shit.”, he said, in his high-pitched voice.

“Darren! Watch you language, please!”

“Why? Mom doesn’t watch hers.”

“Well, that’s kind of what I wanted to talk to you about. Here, why don’t you both sit down. I’ve got something…difficult to tell you.”

“What is it, Daddy?”, Chelsea asked as the two of them sat down, the innocent in her eyes just breaking Linnie’s heart.

“Well um….darling….Mommy um…had a bit of an accident and well…”, Linnie stuttered, slightly tearing up but tried to pull himself together for his kids, “She’s not going to be around much anymore.”

“Why? Where’d she go? Did she finally leave us like she said a million times?”, Darren asked, though to Linnie’s surprise, there was no hint of sadness. In fact, his tone seemed somewhat perky.

“No..sh-she died, dear. I’m so sorry.”

Darren almost let out a woohoo. No more bourbon, no more late-night TV, and no more ‘Darren, get your ass down here right now!’s He could finally be a kid and mess up without the fear of being pounded into next week or having to dodge a shot glass just because he ran in front of the TV while a football game was on. Yet, watching as the other three cried slightly, Darren had to hold off the celebrations until he was alone in his room, simply keeping his mouth shut and hugging his father’s leg.

#fairly oddparents #cosma family #fanfic

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magniloquent-raven · 3 years

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(pt1 here)

billy grew up afraid of finding his soulmate.

when he was eight his father caught him trying to wash nail polish off with soap and a hand towel.

he’d heard girls at school saying it was what you did when your soulmate was a boy. you were supposed to paint yourself up all pretty and find the person who matched. and it was easy enough to sneak into the vanity and steal a bottle of his mother’s nail polish. but once the paint dried he realized it would be impossible to hide from his father, and he panicked.

his mother showed him the bottle of nail polish remover after neil left. dabbed some on a cotton ball to rub at the thick layer of paint. she was silent, kneeling on the floor in front of him cradling his sprained wrist while he sat on the edge of the tub and cried.

they both had questions, but neither of them got answers.

it took billy months to work up the courage to try again.

he wasn’t sure why he was bothering, at first. he knew he couldn’t look for his soulmate the traditional way. and he was constantly terrified that his father would find the supplies he’d started hoarding. it seemed like more risk than reward, and yet. he couldn’t stop himself.

every time he was allowed to wander off in a store alone he’d slip something into his pocket. a tube of lip gloss. a compact full of shiny powders. he wasn’t even sure what some of it was, he just liked the colours. liked the pictures they hung alongside the displays. he wanted to look like that. beautiful.

and in his heart of hearts, he wanted the boy who was out there waiting for him to know he existed. whether they’d be able to find each other or not.

he’s more careful with this than he was with the nail polish. his father works saturday nights, and his mother always visits their neighbour while he’s at work. despite having the house to himself he locks his bedroom door.

the first thing he tries is the watermelon lip gloss. it’s sticky, and the wand doesn’t fit in his hand comfortably, but once he’s smeared it on he feels...good. he likes the way it catches the light. likes the way it smells. he looks at himself in the mirror and likes seeing something different.

the high doesn’t last long, it inevitably gives way to paranoia, anxiety that has him glancing at the locked door every thirty seconds, heart pounding, wondering if just maybe his father will get home from work early, and he jumps at every sound, hearing boots thudding on the porch and car doors slamming and anything that could be neil coming through the door.

cleaning himself up is hard. panic makes his hands shake, his eyes well up. he drops everything on the floor when he tries to tuck the bag away. and he has to spend twenty minutes with his back to his bedroom door getting his breathing under control when he’s finished.

but he does it again the following saturday. and the one after that.

for five months he does this. locks himself away with his stolen treasures and lets himself live a little. it gets easier as time goes on. and his mind wanders sometimes. to a future where he gets to share this with someone. the boy out there who’s supposed to love him one day.

it’s a small bubble of a dream. one he doesn’t spend too much time dwelling on. not when there’s neil’s voice in his head, telling him that no one could love a fucking freak, ‘cause fags don’t get real soulmates anyways.

he wants and he wishes, but the more he thinks about it the more he doubts. he’s never gotten a mark from his soulmate, and even if he did some day, what if his father’s right, and his “soulmate” doesn’t want him or makes him miserable or...worse.

so he does his makeup for himself.

until, like all good things in his life, his father ruins it.

he never found out what set neil off initially, something going wrong at work maybe, or the martial strife of the week getting to him. whatever it was that started it, neil eventually decided billy should bear the brunt of the fallout.

so he went through his things. said billy’d been acting cagey lately, and he was going to find out why.

and then found the makeup bag stuffed into an old sweater in his closet.

it was ugly. the things neil said that day would play on repeat in billy’s head for years afterwards. the scars his belt left on billy’s back were nothing in comparison.

the next saturday came and went. billy spent the evening curled up under a blanket not bothering to wipe away the tears dripping down his face.

by morning he’s resolved to forget the whole thing. to put it behind him. because it was stupid, and risky and childish and maybe his father was right. he’s almost convinced himself. and then he notices ink on his arm, as he reaches up to rub his eyes. messy scrawl, i bet you looked pretty crookedly written up his forearm.

he didn’t think he was able to cry any more, but he manages it.

for the first time his soulmate isn’t just a concept, or a what-if, he’s...a person. he’s a real person out there somewhere. someone who doesn’t even know billy and still wanted to reach out, to offer comfort. it’s more than he’s gotten from anyone else. even his mother. who he knows loves him, and she does her best to protect him, but when she found out about his makeup stash she just looked sad, and she’s said nothing to him about it.

but his soulmate…

can never, ever meet neil.

the thought hits him right in the chest.

whoever he is, he cares, he’s good. and neil breaks good things.

billy falls asleep that night tracing the empty space where his soulmate’s message used to be, wrapped up in worries and dreams, and terrified for someone he’s never met.

the doodles that come and go over the years are terrifying and exhilarating and billy manages to hide every single one from his father. they only ever show up during the day, and they don’t linger. something billy is both grateful for and resentful of.

sometimes he’ll watch other boys’ hands in class. check them for drawings. he thinks he’s being careful, but a girl in his chem class, becca, catches him. she says it’s only because she knew what to look for. they share a cigarette under the bleachers and she tells him about a girl who likes green eyeshadow and writes homework reminders on her wrists using stars instead of bullet points.

it takes billy six months and a couple shots of tequila to tell her about watermelon lip gloss and bet you’re pretty and they both cry when he starts to wonder if his soulmate will be disappointed that he isn’t a girl.

on a rainy april afternoon she asks him to go to a gay bar with her. he tells his father he’s going on a date. she tells her’s that she had to reschedule a tutoring session and it’ll run pretty late.

they wait til it’s dark and get ready in a dingy gas station bathroom. when she’s smearing on her eyeliner she catches sight of his face in the cloudy mirror. he wasn’t going to ask her for anything. he wouldn’t have brought it up. the twinge in his heart and a hollow feeling of longing aren’t anything new, he can deal.

he feels and empty kind of rage every time old, well-meaning relatives give max girly lip gloss kits and eyeshadow pallets and shit normal preteen girls who care about finding their soulmates actually appreciate. she always rolls her eyes and throws them away. susan will fish them out of the trash sometimes, and leave them under the bathroom sink, like if max just sees them there she’ll suddenly give a shit and start using them. like them being there does anything but taunt billy with what he can’t have.

neil watches him like a fucking hawk every time that shit comes into the house. and max doesn’t fucking care. doesn’t notice.

but becca offers.

and.

he’s not about to say no.

he should’ve said no.

it feels good at first, like it used to, it feels like freedom and he likes what he sees when he looks in the mirror, and he kisses a boy for the first time and it isn’t fireworks but it’s something, and he thinks maybe it’s going to be a good night, but then…

neil is waiting on the curb outside becca’s house. they were heading there first, because her parents wouldn’t notice, she said it would be fine, she has makeup remover he can use, he can clean up and head home and everything was supposed to be okay, except. it wasn’t.

it’s the last time he sees becca. neil tells her parents what was actually going on, and she isn’t allowed to visit him in the hospital.

and then six months of rehab, one rushed wedding and a big ugly sold sign later, neil carts them off to hawkins, indi-fucking-ana. as a “family.”

billy was certain this town would be nothing but a prison. it’d be somewhere he’d never find a place to be himself, neil would make sure of that. there wasn’t a single thing to like about this place and its bullshit small town sensibilities. for all the open space it might as well have been stone walls and steel bars.

except.

except...here was a boy with soft eyes and nimble fingers, who gets a little wrinkle between his brows when he concentrates, and is always moving, fidgeting, fiddling with zippers and touching his elbows and looking at him makes billy itch. to touch, to soothe, to take, and…

things get complicated when aimless blue waves scrawl up billy’s arm. when steve follows him out into the parking lot. calls him pretty to his face. and suddenly billy’s eight years old and realizing this shit is real. terrified of what that could mean. spinning fragile dreams like spider’s silk, hard to shake but easy to destroy.

even entertaining the idea of putting on makeup while he’s still in hawkins is stupid and dangerous, but goddamn if he hasn’t risked more for less.

he’s sure he’ll regret it. like he’s regretted every other desperate bid for freedom. but when faced with steve harrington’s smile, he can’t find it in himself to say no.

(edit: pt3 here)

#harringrove ficlet #harringrove #billy hargrove #stranger things #soulmate au #a raven's writing desk #another part is coming #cuuuz #this was getting way too long kdfljgk #i had to split it up cuz the other stuff i wanted to write is. definitely just gonna be a whole nother post to itself lol

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everythingharrypotterblog · 4 years

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charmed [5]: ‘cycle’ (remus lupin x reader)

SMUT. professor! remus x professor!y/n. can be read as a one-shot, or as part 5 of the charmed series :) pls go show part 4 some love, and the rest of the chapters if u liked this! <3

brief summary: full moon approaching= horny as fuck remus. he can’t keep his eyes/hands off y/n, and after a whole day of being needy between classes, they ... ;) dom!remus, oral fem!receiving, fingering, size kink, ye

nsfw gifs for inspo: x x

a/n: i got rejected from my top choice university program today so if im gonna be unhappy, might as well make u guys happy and release parts 5 and 7

series summary: set in the prisoner of azkaban, including its major plot points. remus and y/n get hired by dumbledore last minute to teach at hogwarts, defense against the dark arts and charms respectively. not wanting the students to know they are married, they navigate the challenging year through hidden glances, hand holds underneath the table and loving moments in their offices. even with all their efforts to conceal their relationship, their chemistry does not go unnoticed by the student population of hogwarts, who grow fond of the pair as they offer them some of the best classes they’ve had in a while. their relationship as newlyweds is strengthened as teaching the next generation of wizards unlocks a sea of memories of their love story. for the second time in his life, remus holds hogwarts responsible for some of his happiest memories. he’s given the chance to create them with the love of his life, y/n, who has taught and continues to teach him that every part of him is lovable, remaining forever under her charm.

series masterlist here

join taglist here

Remus’ life was lived in cycles, various phases of the moon commandeering partially how he felt.

His sex drive was always pretty high; how could he not feel desire- when he had Y/N around him in his life. They had a great sex life, and Remus was definitely one to get ‘love boners’, where he would see Y/N do something not remotely suggestive but would get the desire to fuck out of sheer adoration..

When the full moon came close, however… it was on a whole other level. His body carried tension and almost an incurable itch on the days preceding his transformation. His senses flared like a wolf’s, like hearing, touch and vision. It was his sense of smell, however, that enhanced the most. For about 2-5 days leading to the full moon, his smell became much sharper. If Y/N had recently showered, her fresh scent would overwhelm his nostrils, or if she got sweaty too. The second she got aroused, Remus would be able to pick it up, and the urge to bury his face in between her legs would wash over him.

So, he 300% got way hornier during this period of time. Paired up with his senses on overdrive, all he could think about during those few days was sex with Y/N, the tiniest things she did would get him instantly hard. He’d be turned on all the time.

As the month of September came to a close, both Y/N could definitely sense her husband’s even-higher-than-normal yearning. Remus’ persona in public never revealed how much of a beast he could be in the bedroom, always calm, respectful, prudent. He treated Y/N with the upmost care, and once they got to Hogwarts, with the upmost professionalism. That quickly faltered in the last couple of days.

The second students were out of her last class, he had her pushed up against the wall, the door of the classroom safely locked. Y/N even had to cancel one Charms practice session, because Remus wasn’t able to keep his hands off her: pulling her close to him and rubbing her back while he buried his nose in the perfume of her hair. When they graded or read together in the evenings, he would bend her over the desk, then take her again in the shower that night. Every morning, Y/N would wake up in the best way possible, feeling Remus’ tight hold behind her and his already hard cock rutting up against the flesh of her butt.

This morning, however, the couple wasn’t able to squeeze in a nice wake-up shag. They had overslept, and Y/N who started at 9am while Remus at 10, had to to get to class. She hurried off, getting dressed and down for a quick breakfast, leaving Remus waking up alone, humping the sheets slightly.

His frustrations lasted all day, and definitely were not aided when he saw that Y/N was wearing his favourite pair of pants of hers at lunchtime. While the way they looked at each other always somewhat hinted at their romance, Remus’ gaze was especially obvious, like he was mentally undressing her everywhere they went.

He was presently in between classes, sitting at a table in the staff room and trailing his wand over the lines of a student’s essay he was reading. He lifted his head when he heard the door creak open, and Y/N walked in happily, carrying a stack of papers in her hands. His thread was almost thrown back as he caught a whiff of her, just pure her, mixed with a hint of… arousal? She was wet, Remus thought lewdly.

Spotting Remus, Y/N gave him a big smile, then turned towards a little desk that had some of her stuff on it. Remus gave her a cheeky wink before his eyes followed her, unabashedly fixed on how those pants fit her so nicely. Y/N bent down to store the papers into her bag, and Remus quickly had to look away, forcing his gaze on the window before he would get hard.

“Hi, my love.” He smiled gently as she approached him, turning his chair and pulling her onto his lap.

“Rem!” Y/N whispered, jerking her head towards Professor Sprout.

She was the only other teacher there, but to Remus’ greatest delight, she seemed to have snoozed off in her armchair.

“She’s asleep.” Remus whispered back, hands running everywhere on Y/N’s body as she settled herself comfortably in his lap. “Besides, I missed you.”

“Aw, pumpkin-“ Y/N giggled, accepting Remus’ kiss as he pressed his lips on hers. “I, missed, you, too” She murmured in between kisses.

Remus’ hands were getting antsy, as one went to go squeeze Y/N’s breasts and the other caressed over her butt, smoothing over the thin fabric of her dress pants. The kiss deepened as they both began breathing heavier.

“Don’t,” Y/N breathed in, breaking apart from Remus’ soft face. “Don’t you have class in like-“ She glanced at the clock. “5 minutes?!”

Remus peered over her head and groaned, shaking his tousled head. “And you do too darling, right?”

“Yeah, it’s my last one of the day.” Y/N frowned.

Remus’ gaze softened, nuzzling Y/N’s nose with the tip of his own, in a cute little Eskimo kiss- type action.

“I really love these pants, you know, I’m wondering if you wore these on purpose” He grinned, the hand on her butt petting the material softly.

“Maybe, I did….” Y/N smiled back, their faces centimeters away from each other’s.

Remus, ears full of Y/N’s voice, nose full of Y/N’s natural homey scent, didn’t register the door opening again and they both turned with a jolt, when they heard Professor McGonagall clear her throat.

Y/N jumped out of Remus’ lap, Remus smoothing his hands that were all over her body, over his robes.

“Hi, Professor McGonagall- I was just- we were just getting ready for our next l-lesson.” Y/N stammered, face growing hot in embarrassment.

“Yes, class, here- I’ll walk you to your class, darling.” Remus said, bowing his head and following Y/N out of the staff room.

“Mhmm.” Professor McGonagall hummed, peering at the two through her thin rectangle glasses. She didn’t bother reminding them they could call her ‘Minerva’, but as they shuffled out the door, her thin lips curled up in amusement. “Oh, Pomona, I’m sure you are very lucky to be dead asleep right now.” She whispered, to the Herbology teacher whose eyes were sealed shut.

In the hallway, Y/N and Remus burst out laughing once they got a safe distance away.

“I am never going to emotionally recover from that.” Remus choked in between gasps for breath.

“Please, I’m never going to look her in the eye ever again.” Y/N howled, wiping a tear with her wrist. “I mean, at least we were just sitting… and not actually doing.. anything.”

They walked along a couple stairways, their body language having adjusted to the busy Castle.

“Thanks for walking me, you didn’t have to.” Y/N said, once they reached the Charms classroom. She stood back to the door, hands behind her on the doorknob.

Remus simply smiled courteously, eyes drifting down her. Then, quickly, he peered around them and into the classroom. Seeing it was empty, he reached behind Y/N, turned the doorknob and swirled her inside, pressing her up against the door.

“Oh, Rem-“ Y/N squeaked in surprise, but her voice faded into a soft moan as Remus kissed her, her arms going up to wrap around his neck.

“Sorry, my love, I just can’t get enough of you.” Remus chuckled when they finally pulled apart.

“Hmm.” Y/N licked her lips. Feeling Remus casing her in against the door like this, his big build towering over her, made her knees all weak. “Okay, you know the best part about these pants?” She inquired.

“Hmm? Tell me, sweetheart.” Remus mused, eyelids growing heavy as he stared into her face.

She rose on her tippy toes to meet the height of Remus’ ears, “The material is so thin-”

She spun around, facing the door and pressed her backside against Remus’ front, feeling him through his trousers.

Gasping as Remus’ large hands went up to squeeze both her breasts, further pushing her against the door as he pressed himself against her smaller body, she said, “-I have to wear a thong.”

Remus’ hands on her froze, his eyes growing dark. A low growl was ebbing up his throat but before he could respond, Y/N snaked out of his hold.

“Okay, bye honey- have a good class!” Y/N chirped, grinning widely as she opened the door to let a group of students in.

Remus composed himself in a fraction of a second, a hand raking through his hazel locks in attempt to comb them over.

“Hi, Professor Lupin!” Some students said, happy to see him, to which he answered with a polite and kind “Hello, hello!”, and “Hello, Dean!”.

Once Y/N’s class was over, she hurried up to her living quarters. After taking a hot shower, she climbed onto the bed, in nothing but a thong and one of Remus’ big sleeping shirts. She lied down comfortably, fingers toying with the collar as she waited for her husband. He had one other class after hers and should be finished soon.

Accurately enough, Remus’ figure appeared in the fireplace a few minutes later. His footsteps approached the bedroom and as he entered, his belt was already clinking as he was unfastening it with one hand.

“Oh, baby.” He hummed appreciatively as he took in the sight of Y/N, splayed across their bed, thighs balmy and exposed. “Is that my shirt?”

Y/N nodded, appreciating how Remus’ locks of hair had fallen on his forehead, as if he was constantly running his fingers through them- which he did, in attempt to concentrate when he was giving his last lessons of the day.

Gripping the hem, Y/N lifted the shirt off, exposing her naked chest. Remus made a guttural sound as he lunged forward, going to squeeze, lick and suck over her breasts. His hands wandered south, grazing the wet spot on the cotton stripe that covered Y/N’s mound.

“And whose pussy is this, hmm?” Remus snarled slightly, canines shining as his lips curled into an eager smirk.

Y/N licked her lips as she decided not to answer, her eyes had a glint to them when she stared back challengingly at her husband.

Remus raised an eyebrow, but kept an unfazed demeanour. He stepped back from the bed, taking a stand at the edge of it.

“Okay, baby girl, I see how you’re being. Turn around for me.”

Y/N looked up at him excitedly before slowly turning on the bed, onto her stomach.

Remus let out a small appreciative growl at the sight of Y/N’s ass covered only by a thin thong, right in front of him ready for him to ravage.

“Should’ve started with an easier question, kitten- who does this ass belong to?” Remus simpered.

He bent forward to squeeze both cheeks in his large hands, then went on to graze his teeth softly against the flesh of her ass. He could smell her arousal fully now, the scent of her wetness entering his nostrils and clouding his vision.

When Y/N merely arched her lower back to stick our her bum more prominently, wiggling it, Remus cursed. He roughly palmed the flesh before he lifted his hand and delivered a loud swat to it.

Y/N gripped the sheets in her hands as she yelped out of pleasure.

“You like that, don’t you, you wanted a good spanking from daddy, huh?” Remus hummed, rubbing over the spot soothingly.

“Yes.” Y/N breathed out shakily. “Please.”

Remus kneaded the flesh in his hands and reveled in the way it would bounce after he spanked it a few more times.

“Oh darling,” he cooed, bending down to leave a slow trail of kisses up Y/N’s back. “Your little bum looks so cute marked up in pink by my hands.”

The skin had pinked, and a considerable area too, considering how large Remus’ hands were.

“Remus, I’m- I’m so wet for you.” Y/N cried, lifting her lower body weight onto her knees so Remus could see her pussy in the air. Glistening and dripping in arousal.

The sight sent adrenaline down Remus’ groin, his cock now painfully hard and straining against his trousers. He could in a flash, shed his lower layers and pound into Y/N’s cunt as his urges wished him to, but he had to get a taste first.

“Really?” He said as he kneeled down on the side of the bed, now eye-level with Y/N’s core. He peeled back her thong, throwing it further on the bed.

“Yes, oh God, please.”

Remus peered over Y/N’s legs to see her face, scrunched up in anticipation. His hands trailed over the side of her thighs, sending visible shivers down her spine.

“Now, will you be a good girl and tell me… who this pretty ass and pussy belong to?” He said in a low purr, voice husky.

Y/N’s pussy clenched as she felt his face so close to where she needed him to be, his hands cementing themselves around her legs.

“Yours, Remmy, I’m all yours, now please-“ she begged, tears prickling at her eyes because of how much she ached for his touch.

Remus’ hands softly grazed down her back and pressed harshly once they got to the lower part where the curve of her ass began, and pulled her cunt straight into his face.

“Merlin, you smell so fucking sweet.” He swooned, inhaling deeply before quite literally diving into her cunt, his warm tongue stretching to lick against her clit.

Y/N’s eyes rolled back, her head pressing harder into the pillow. “Fuck…” She choked out. Her hips gyrated against Remus’ face, but his firm hold locked her in place as he devoured her.

They both moaned, Remus’ tongue running up her slit a couple times to lap up all the slickness and fully taste it. He gave her clit a quick kiss before sucking on it, taking it in between his lips.

“Fuck, r-right there.” Y/N breathed out, finally feeling an ounce of her desire fulfilled.

Remus licked sloppily at her clit, drawing wet circles with his tongue as his entire face was engulfed in her, her wetness dripping and coating his chin and nose. He sighed contently, closing his eyes as he ate her out, his own cock plumping at the feeling of her hips and legs trembling.

It was like meditation, the wolf inside him finally somewhat being appeased. He lapped at her cunt like it was the last thing he’d ever do, tongue running through the soft folds that were sopping and slick from the mix of her arousal and his spit.

“Oh, Rem, oh-“ Y/N moaned, face scrunched in pleasure. The coil in her abdomen wound tighter, she was getting closer and she pushed her hips back against Remus’ mouth. He groaned into her cunt, his hands squeezing her fleshy hips harder, desperately stuffing his face into her. He loved it.

He maintained his rhythm, focusing on suckling and flicking his tongue on her clit until she came with a cry, hips shaking out of his hold. He flattened his tongue to run it up her labia, and ended by planting a tender kiss on her sensitive clit before pulling away, slightly more sated than before.

“Delicious.” Remus panted, standing up and watching Y/N languidly turn over onto her back once again. He wiped his mouth and the tip of his nose clean with the back of his hand, Y/N watching with her face hot.

Y/N scooted to sit at the edge of the bed, ogling him. He towered over her as he stayed standing, looking down at her through heavy hungry eyelids, covered by his brown hair that was getting slightly messier.

“Wanna taste you.” Y/N smiled, reaching behind Remus’ kneecaps to bring him closer.

Remus chuckled darkly, his long arm needing to barely reach to stroke Y/N’s jaw.

“You look so cute from up here, dove, makes me want to play with you and see you cum, all over again.” He said, voice low.

Y/N bit her lip, not breaking eye contact with her husband.

“So gorgeous.” He groaned as Y/N took his thumb between her lips, suckling the pad of the finger. “You have no idea how much I’ve been thinking.. of what I want to do to you, how much I want to take that body of yours.”

“Then take me.” Y/N exhaled, mouth letting go of his thumb and smiling devilishly.

Remus’ eyes, if possible, turned darker in desire and he bent down, kissing Y/N passionately on the lips as his hands travelled down her naked torso.

“Hmm, you’re so small, kitten,” Remus hummed, eyes following his hand that went to cup in between her legs. “Look how small your little pussy is in my hand.”

His fingers curled to feel how wet it was, Y/N spreading her thighs apart for him to access easier. He used his middle and ring finger to lather up some of her slickness, then dragged them up to her clit and started soft circles on it. Y/N whimpered, legs closing from how sensitive her bud was from her previous orgasm.

“Now, now pet.” Remus tutted, pulling away.

He licked the tips of his fingers clean, then shrugged off his woolly cardigan, hanging it on the back of a nearby chair. The full moon approaching always got his body temperature hotter than usual, so he skipped wearing a cloak today, and was left in his white dress shirt and tie. He slowly rolled up his sleeves, exposing his forearms. Y/N couldn’t keep her eyes off his hands as he did so. Long, mature fingers with metal rings adorning the base of each.

“Keep your legs nice and spread f’me, alright, as I stuff you with my fingers.”

Bending forward again, he leaned one arm on the bed beside Y/N as his other hand found her clit again. The thick pads of his fingers played with her clit, rubbing the spot as Y/N bit her lip, body firing up for another orgasm.

“So cute, button.” He mused, nuzzling the top of Y/N’s head. “Look at that, your clit feels so little under my fingers, don’t you think? And your cunt, ah-“

He dipped a finger inside her, sliding right in and quickly added another one. Slowly petting the soft spongy walls of Y/N’s pussy, Y/N mewled, rutting her hips for more.

“So tight, so full just of my fingers. Tell me darling, do you like my fingers?”

“Mhhm.” Y/N nodded as Remus sped up. “Love your fingers, your hands, they’re so b-big.” She choked out, head hanging back as he fingered her.

“You like that? You fucking love how I can get you off with just m’fingers, yeah? Lord, this pussy’s so tight how will my cock even fit hmm?” Remus crooned, watching Y/N adoringly as he was knuckles deep inside her, his rings feeling cold upon her entrance.

Y/N opened her eyes, meeting Remus’ soft, scar-decorated face and turned her head to kiss him. Remus suckled on her spit-slicked lips, maintaining his fingers and bent his hand for the bone of his palm to press against her clit. Y/N gasped into the kiss, lips gaped apart as she whimpered into Remus’ mouth. Remus smiled, loving how flustered she was as she struggled to kiss him back, soaking in all her little cries and noises she made.

His fingers inside her were going so fast, relentlessly hitting her g-spot over and over that his hard palm was grinding against her clit incessantly. Faster than the first time, she came, squeezing onto his forearm.

Fingers riding out her high, they slowed and pulled out, drenched in her wetness. Y/N collapsed onto her back, chest heaving.

“Oh, baby you are so beautiful.” Remus simpered, climbing on the bed and leaning over her to kiss her everywhere; her shoulders, neck, cheeks. “You think you got another one in you, bunny? Think you can let Moony bury his cock inside you?”

“Yes, give it to me please.” Y/N grinned widely, licking her lips and pulled Remus down by his tie, locking lips with him once more. “Need you inside me.”

“Oh, puppy. I am going to ruin you.” Remus said, this time in such a low murmur that had he not been an inch close to Y/N’s face, her ears wouldn’t have registered the tone.

Y/N sat up, helping her husband rid himself of his clothes. His bare chest exposed a few thin scars, which Y/N quickly smoothed her hands and lips over, routinely giving love to them, as she knew it was the part Remus couldn’t stand of his body.

Remus freed his hard-on, which was blushed an angry shade of dark pink. The bulbous head had been leaking of precum for a while now, and he exhaled a couple ragged breaths when he stroked himself, hand twisting around his tip. Y/N had leaned over to their bedside table to open a condom, and she replaced his hand with hers, pumping his long member before sliding it on. Remus already felt himself throb, and he knew that soon he’d be even more as Y/N’s pussy felt 100 times better than her hand.

“How do you want me?” Y/N breathed, backing up to the head of the bed as Remus went on his knees.

This was more of a rhetorical question, really, as it has been like this for years, that at every moon cycle end, their favourite was for Remus to take Y/N from behind. Y/N turned onto her elbows and knees, bending forward to prop her ass up.

“That’s it, good girl.” Remus licked his lips, lining himself up and pushed his cock slowly into Y/N’s warmth.

He let out a loud hiss, face contorted in pleasure as he sank fully into her, his long, hard member stretching Y/N out to the fullest, filling her to the brim. “Merlin.” He said through gritted teeth, eyes dropping to where he disappeared into Y/N’s behind. “You always manage to stay so tight for me, darling- fuck, your pussy’s just squeezing m’cock so right, isn’t it?”

Y/N merely moaned, head dropping forward as she balanced her upper weight on her elbows, overwhelmed by feeling every single vein of Remus’ cock sliding in and out of her slowly. She clenched hard around him, causing his hips to tremor as Remus’ senses, including touch, were amplified tenfold.

He ceased momentarily, his cock just resting heavy inside Y/N’s cunt, his head deep at her g-spot. Y/N mewled, arching her back and twerked her hips, fucking herself back onto his cock. Remus growled at the sight, spanked her once, then his hands dived to grab the curve of her waist as he snapped, hips pounding into her now mercilessly.

“Oh God, fuck!” Y/N cried out with her head thrown back, as her elbows gave out from underneath her and her face sank forward into a heap of pillows. Her ass still up in the air, flesh slightly pink from Remus’ spanks delivered to it- it was a wonder how he didn’t cum from the sight of that alone as he fucked her from behind.

Remus kept up his quick rhythm, hips thrusting into her ruthlessly. They were both close, and Remus fucked into Y/N without an ounce or self-restraint left. He grunted loudly as she fell forward and her inner walls clenching down onto his member. His cock slipped in and out of her deliciously, as she had gotten so wet for him, sinful sounds echoing the room.

He bent forward, chest pressing against her back, their skin sweaty.

“‘S that feel good, darling?” Remus said, lips ghosting over Y/N’s ear. She shuddered, his breath sending shivers up her neck as she felt him so close. His voice wasn’t his usual chesty, tenor honey-like. His words were uttered in a guttural one, his voice deeper, lower, sounding from the back of his throat. “You’re taking me so well- your pussy feels like heaven, sweetheart.”

Y/N’s ears registered the praise as music, living for it. He adjusted his hips slightly to accommodate the new angle, thrusting to make sure he was hitting all the spots in Y/N he knew she liked.

“Mphhhm, please baby,” Y/N moaned, voice slightly muffled into the pillow. She turned her head to the side to rest her cheek on it instead. “Please Remus, oh-“ her voice whimpered, a little more clearly now.

Remus’ large hands had been gripping onto the flesh of Y/N’s hips roughly, tightly. He moved one up to her breasts, grabbing it and massaging it. His breath was hot on her back. He was nearing his orgasm too, his breathing loud and shaggy. Heaving grunts echoed off the walls of the rooms, and Y/N arched her back to feel his chest rise up and down against it.

“Good girl, good fucking girl- taking my cock so well. Shit.”

Remus let out a growl as he felt his cock be swallowed up in her cunt, her ribbed walls enveloping it so nicely as he ploughed into her.

“You’re close aren’t you, dove?” He murmured into her neck with the same low voice, placing wet kisses onto it. Her hair was out of the way onto the other side, and he tasted the slight stickiness of how sweaty their night’s activities had gotten her.

“Yes, yes, ye-es” Y/N chanted in a strangled voice, her words getting split at her throat from Remus’ vigorous pounding.

“Can tell from how tightly you’re squeezing me- shit, not going to last long either inside you like this. C’mon baby, c’mon. Cum for me.”

It was all too much. Y/N shaked as she felt Remus pump into her a few more crucial times. He felt so thick in her walls, his girth filling her up like no other. Moaning, her hips grinded back into Remus as she started to cum. She felt his warm hand reach down her belly and down to between her thighs and with the added pressure from the circles he rubbed on her clit, she came with a shudder. Her body shook as her breath caught in her throat, a string of profanities leaving her lips. Y/N’s sounds of pleasure filled Remus’ ears, driving him further into ecstasy.

“Good girl.” Remus purred, hips jerking forward frantically.

“Remus, fill me up-“ Y/N moaned, knowing Remus loved hearing his name fall off her tongue like that. She propped herself back onto her elbow, reaching one hand behind her to hold the back of Remus’ neck.

Remus pressed the side of his face into Y/N’s neck, her hand keeping him close to her. He growled into her ear, the low sound vibrating from his throat enough to make Y/N’s eyes roll back. Driving his cock into her, desperately chasing his high, he rutted his cock into her walls. His entire body strained as all his muscles worked to relieve himself, needily fucking out his animalistic urges. He came with a gasp, his hips jerked harshly as he shot ropes and ropes of cum into the condom.

Panting, he hunched forward as his cock kept twitching.

His whole muscular body trembled as he squeezed his eyes shut in the pleasure of his long-needed release. His hand was grasped onto Y/N’s chest and she loved the feeling, tilting her hips forward to match the movements of Remus’ orgasm.

Wheezing slightly, Remus finally pulled out of her slowly, Y/N whimpering slightly as her pussy clenched around nothing. He threw the used condom and collapsed onto his back, chest still heaving. Y/N followed suit beside him, onto her stomach, body limp. The afterwaves of her orgasm still sent pleasure through her body and she knew she’d feel too sore to even straighten her legs.

“My love.” Remus turned on his side.

“I can’t fucking move.” Y/N chuckled, voice muffled by the pillow.

Remus hummed, eyes raking over her used body and sat up, massaging over her shoulders then down her back. His hands reached her hips, where he caressed extra soothingly and slowly closed them together. He bent forward, planting a kiss on Y/N’s cheek. She giggled as his locks of hair tickled her eyelid.

Languidly turning over, Y/N sighed in content.

Remus reached his hand, and pulled a strand of her hair out of her face, tucking it behind his ear. He felt warmth lower, as his body began to awaken for another round.

“We’re not getting much sleep tonight, huh?” Y/N giggled peering down at her husband.

It was a blessing that the Castle automatically out a Silencing charm on teachers’ living quarters, because anyone neighbouring them would have stayed up, hearing sinful, wet slapping sounds of skin all night.

part 6 and part 7 OUT NOW!!

tags @bicyhot1 @pink-hufflepuff @legitlaughingflamingo @brod16 @gerardonmyway @blueleonor @suranne-doesstuff @rxmusblxck @spxllcxstxr @littleemo477 @just12randomfandoms @svnkissdd @norrreee @m4r13l3y @jess6578 @rorysreallyrandom @the-nightingale-not-the-lark @archeve19 @wolfstarslovechild @pan-pride-12 @x4kai4x @chrrybmb-mp3 @reggieluna @happyslittlekitten @missemilygilmore @all-things-fictional @strangefirething @abitofeverythinggg @yeahshewayout @imfreeeeeee123 @harold-pothead @lunnybunny12 @ellieblack11 @tugabooos @joyfulbiscuit @justonemorechapter07 @wonderwoman292 @skateb0red @secretsthathauntus @siriusblackswhoree @sabonbonn @untraveled-road @annabeljareau @valiantobservationkitty @diffbeanofbrand @theeicedamericano @spencerreidlove @flannellover67 @wishiwasdeadric @becks7401 @katsav17 @emmy-kitty13 @purritoqueen @girl22334 @monicafebyana @talsiaa @sierrax023 @axva03 @uhh-dk @nataliahgrace

#remus lupin smut #charmed #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin fanfic #professor lupin x reader #Professor Remus Lupin #professor lupin smut

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kohanayaki · 3 years

Text

.:Time and Time Again:. (Marauders Era x Reader) Ch 3

Continuing the story of how you and Sirius became friends; as James and Remus grow closer to you, Sirius continues to treat you coldly until a late night encounter makes him question everything.

LINKS: CH 1 CH 2 CH 3 CH 4 CH 5 CH 6 CH 7 CH 8

________________________________________________________

Ch 3 .:Resistance and Reconciliation:.

~Previously~

“I'm not going to bother making friends with someone whose family is so wrapped up in blood politics they forget to be human beings first. Trust me, I've met their mother enough times to know.”

“Did you ever ask them about it?” Remus pressed.

“I don't really need to, do I? They're a (L/n). Open your eyes, Moony!”

Remus' brow furrowed, a shine in his eyes akin to sympathy as he regarded Sirius.

“Perhaps it's you that needs to clear your vision, friend.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 1974 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sirius sat on the stone ledge on the window of his dorm room, looking out towards the Black Lake. He could see the push and pull of the wind as the thin branches of the ash trees bowed gently with the rhythm. In the reflection of the glass he could see James and Peter behind him experimenting with an altered set of wizard's chess, complete with fire-breathing knights and bishops that threw daggers, while one of Remus' records spun in the background.

Despite everything he could have been thinking about at the moment, his thoughts, irritatingly enough, drifted to you. He frowned slightly as he leaned his shoulder against the window, annoyed that you occupied even a portion of his mind. He just couldn't understand you. Somehow you had turned James, who had once openly proclaimed you his sworn enemy, into something close to a friend in the span of a year. You had no qualms with pranks pulled on you, yet you were fiercely protective when they were directed at others. You were always smiling, yet your temper took no prisoners. If you weren't a Slytherin you might even be attractive.

The thought made him bolt upright. Where the hell did that come from? He almost laughed. No. Absolutely not. He was Sirius Black, he could get anyone he wanted in this bloody school, and he certainly wasn't going to busy his mind with you. What the hell was wrong with him? It's not like he noticed the way you smiled to yourself when you were reading, or the fact that the sound of your laugh got stuck in his head like a song—

No. Stop it. Get your head straight, they're evil.

Sirius exhaled deeply, rubbing his tired eyes with his hands. For some reason that thought didn't sit right in his brain, and the longer he sat with it he came to a horrifying conclusion:

Maybe Remus was right.

The only time you'd really been nasty to them was when they'd instigated it first, or whenever they had a go at Snivelus, which had become less and less frequent; Sirius suspected because of your tentative friendship with James. He'd always just assumed you were like the other Slytherins he'd come to know. There's been hearsay circulating around you, especially given your family's reputation, but you yourself hadn't really done anything to prove the rumors. Maybe you really weren't like your family at all. Maybe you were like him. . .

Suddenly, he caught movement in the corner of his eye, not from his friend's reflections but from outside the window itself. A figure emerged from the lamplight of the castle gate, making their way towards the edge of the forest. If the green lining of your school robes and (h/c) hair didn't peak his interest, the flash that he saw of your face as you shot a quick glance over your shoulder confirmed it was you.

Sirius' mind began racing as he watched you disappear into the foliage, and suddenly every thought that had given you the benefit of the doubt vanished. He'd heard the rumors about the gatherings in the forest, everyone had. He'd even caught Snape practicing dark magic there himself one of the first nights they'd used the Shrieking Shack passageway.

He jumped off his perch by the window and grabbed a sheet of parchment and a quill, drawing a rough outline of the perimeter of the forest. He labeled the Black Lake so his spell would have a going off point and pressed his wand to the still drying ink.

“Revelare Popularis,”

The enchantment was a work in progress— a technique he'd learned from a seventh year. It wasn't exact, but it was enough to tell him if anyone else was in the forest right now. His eyes darted across the paper as he scanned his makeshift map, and the color drained from his face as he saw names suddenly appear in a cluster by the lake: Mulciber, Wilkes, Avery, and Malfoy.

Was this it? Were you really one of them?

James looked up from his game as he saw Sirius grab his leather jacket off where it hung from his bedpost.

“Going somewhere?”

“(L/n) just went into the forest,” Sirius said, “I'm following them.”

“Why, Sirius?” Remus said sardonically, having had enough of his unusual grudge against you, “We're not really ones to talk when it comes to sneaking around the forest at night, now are we?”

“He's got a point,” James said, “I mean, what do you think you're going to see?”

“What do I think?” Sirius scoffed, pushing the paper into Jame's hands, “what does it look like?”

James looked down at the parchment blankly.

“What am I looking at?”

“A variation on Revelio,” Sirius explained quickly, “if you have a location in mind it shows you who's there, but only at the time the charm is cast.”

“Are you kidding me?” James' jaw nearly dropped, “You're just now showing this to us? We could have been taking advantage of this spell to dodge Filch this whole time!”

“I'm serious.”

James had to fight hard not to make a joke out of that one.

“If (L/n)'s meeting up with those guys it can't be for anything good,” Sirius continued, “and I'm gonna find out exactly why.”

Before any of the boys could get another word in, Sirius took off running down the corridor. James groaned, rebelling against the urge to slam his head into the wall.

“I've got to stop him before he does something stupid,” he said, pulling a coat on over his shoulders, “You with me, Remus?”

“Probably not the best idea,” Lupin reminded him, “the moon's full tomorrow. I won't turn, but in the direct moonlight I may get a bit. . . well, you know.”

“Right,” James sighed, running a hand through his hair in distress, “Peter?”

The boy jolted as he was addressed, his eyes quickly cast down to his twiddling fingers.

“I. . . w-well. . .”

“Fine,” James said, waving them off in annoyance, “I'll go at him alone.”

___________________________________________________

You took a grateful breath of the crisp night air, letting the wind whistle through your hair and clothes. You loved your common room, but it could feel constricting at times, especially when there were nights as beautiful as this taking place.

Your eyes drifted up to the moon, smiling at the sight of it. It was nearly full, only a sliver of white missing from the very edge of the sphere. The sight alone was enough to make you feel more at home in your own skin, an inexplicable sense of comfort washing over you. You hadn't been able to really let loose and just run in so long. You'd made doubly sure no one had followed you into the forest, but you still gave your surroundings a quick once over. You jumped as the sound of leaves crunching suddenly asserted itself behind you and you lit your wand quickly, turning to see who it was.

“. . . Black?”

“Sorry, were you expecting someone else? One of your pureblood friends, maybe?”

The confused look on your face only made his anger flare.

“Don't act coy,” he asked harshly, “just what are you playing at?”

Your back straightened in surprise, taken aback by his words.

“Excuse me?”

“I've seen you talking to my brother, Rosier, Snivelus, and all those other Slytherins. Don't think I don't know what you're doing,” the words flew out of his mouth before they had time to pass through his brain, every irrational irritation he had regarding you spewing out of him at once, “I've had to sit through it, you know. All those dinners where my parents talk blood politics with all the fanatics who think just like them. I've listened to your mother brag all about your pure blood line and how her child is 'so eager to carry on the family traditions'. So whatever you're planning by getting close to James, I'm not going to let it happen.”

You felt like you were frozen in place, staring at him as your throat tightened into knots.

“My mom?” you said, voice suddenly small, “Sirius. . . my mom passed away when I was little.”

Your words hit the Gryffindor like a truck.

“. . . what?” he asked dumbly, his brain delaying slightly in processing what you'd just said.

“She got sick. . . an experimental spell gone wrong. If you met someone with my family's name that spoke like that, it was probably my aunt. My cousin goes to Ilvermorny. That's the child she's talking about, not me. The divide between purebloods and muggleborns is even more severe in America, if you can believe it. . . ”

Sirius faltered, this new information going against everything he'd heard and thought he knew about you and your family.

“But,” he hesitated, “your father—”

“Put up the image he had to in order to keep me safe,” you said. You knew he was documented as being very open about his pureblood pride and distaste towards muggles, but it was a cover more than anything, “Since he stopped speaking with my aunt and moved us both away from the estate, she's acted as the new head of the (L/n) House, and that was years ago. . .”

You trailed off awkwardly, not feeling very self-righteous in your explanation.

“I know my family doesn't have the best reputation. . . that's probably why you hate me, huh?” you chuckled humorlessly, wincing at how harsh the words came out. But if you were honest, you were hurt that out of everyone in their group, Sirius was the one that didn't even seem to want to give you a chance. You were the one who had extended the olive branch in the first place on the condition that they ease up on Severus.

“Hate you?” Sirius echoed hollowly, feeling guilt creep up on him like a shadow, “that's. . . shit, no, that's not—”

“Everte Statum!”

You gasped as Sirius was suddenly shot backwards, his body flipping wildly through the air from the force before being slammed against the trunk of a nearby tree. His head spun, heavily disoriented as his vision shifted in shades.

You had drawn your wand on instinct, looking around for your attackers when you saw a black-clad figure lift their hood, revealing a long mane of white hair that stood out starkly in the night.

Malfoy.

“Well, looky here,” Mulciber taunted, revealing himself behind you, “we've caught the two biggest blood traitors of the last century having a touching little moment together.”

Laughter echoed from the trees, Wilkes emerging from the shadows. You took up a defensive position as their group surrounded you.

“Now, let's not be hasty, Mulciber,” Lucius said, “their father may have disgraced their house, yes, but they didn't have a choice. It's not too late for them to make the right one now.” His lips turned up into a snarl as he regarded Sirius, “get away from that blood traitor, (L/n), he'll rub off on you.”

You grit your teeth hard, preparing to cast a spell when Malfoy put his hand up in a silencing gesture, the pretentious little prat.

“Ah, you don't want to make any rash moves either, (L/n),” he said, looking to your left. You followed his gaze to see Avery coming out of the foliage, grappling with someone under his arm.

“Potter?!”

James smiled weakly as Avery held him in a choke hold, a bit of blood dripping down the side of his head.

“Hey,” he said, humor still light in his voice, “So, this didn't exactly work out as planned.” He groaned as Avery's elbow was driven into his stomach, effectively silencing him.

As soon as you tried to move towards him, Lucius had his wand pointed at you.

“Let him go and get lost, Malfoy,” you said lowly, “you've taken this far enough.”

“You've been avoiding us, (L/n),” Lucius said, ignoring you entirely, “Snape may have come up with some rubbish excuses for you earlier, but you can't keep running from this.”

“If practicing curses on first years and terrorizing other people is how you plan on using magic, then I don't want any part of your little cult,” you spat, “face it, Malfoy— you lot need me, but I don't need you.”

Lucius exhaled sharply, his genuine surprise at your resistance replaced quickly with anger.

“Think about what you're doing, (L/n),” he said, his eyes narrowing dangerously, “don't be a fool like your father.”

That did it.

With a growl you unleashed an orange bolt of energy from your wand, your Stupefy hitting Lucius square in the chest. Mulciber was quick to retaliate with a jinx of his own, which you quickly nullified with a shield charm. Shock flashed across his expression at your casual use of nonverbal magic, and he recovered one second too late.

Sirius was back on his feet, petrifying Mulciber and swatting Wilkes away like a fly with the knockback jinx before either could cast a spell at you. You and Sirius found yourselves back to back, fending off Lucius as he continued to direct a steady stream of curses in your direction. Sirius managed to create an opening for you and you turned to where James was being held.

“Evanossa!”

A flash of blue hit Avery, who shrieked in horror when he saw that the arm he was using to hold Potter had turned gelatinous, fingers drooping down like melting ice cream. James wasted no time paying him back in kind for roughing him up earlier, sending him flying into the oak tree and using the water from the Black Lake to freeze him there before joining you in the fray.

“Expelliarmus!” he called out, sending Wilke's wand spinning out of his reach and leaving only Malfoy against the three of you.

Lucius faltered for a moment as he stared down your group of three, but held fast.

“Leave it, Malfoy,” you said, “it's over.”

He growled under his breath, taking up an obvious offensive stance, but you were too quick.

“Ebublio!”

Lucius gasped as he suddenly found himself encased in a giant bubble, his knockback jinx ricocheting off the inside and hitting him in the back of the head. He pounded against the bubble in frustration but found it to be thick as Plexiglas and just as strong, unable to pop it. Suddenly, he was hoisted into the air as you raised your wand higher, directing him farther and farther away until he was hovering directly over the Black Lake.

“Let me go this instant!” he growled.

A devilish smile graced your features.

“You got it.”

“No, wait, don't you dar—AHH!!”

You turned your back on him, your breaking eye contact promptly bursting the bubble and sending him flailing into the water a few feet below.

You chuckled as you sent a few quick counter-jinxes out from your wand, restoring Mulciber's range of motion and liquefying the ice that trapped Avery.

As soon as Mulciber was unpetrified he took off running towards the Lake where Lucius was furiously treading water, tripping over his feet as he dragged Wilkes along with him. Avery limped after them, defrosted but still chilled to his bones (which you had been so kind to also restore).

“I'd fish him out quickly if I were you,” you called after them, “the giant squid is more active at night.”

“You're out of your mind, (L/n)!” Avery turned around and yelled, but with fear evident in his eyes, “You'll live to regret this, mark my words. The Headmaster—”

“Would love to know who cast the first spell, I'm sure,” you said darkly.

Avery stammered out some lame response under his breath before turning around and running after the rest of group, retreating.

Sirius turned to look at you, awestruck and chocked full of adrenaline. Maybe you really weren't so bad after all.

“That was. . .” James trailed off, grasping for the words and blurting them out as soon as he found them, “Brilliant, (Y/n). You're bloody brilliant.”

You felt your face heat up, not expecting that. You and James had stopped trading insults and threats (serious ones, anyways) and your teasing had become well meant, but neither of you had crossed the threshold of actually paying the other a compliment before.

“Thanks, Potter,” you said, unable to fight the smile on your face. You turned to Sirius briefly. “I hope this cleared some things up for us,” you said, “I'd really like to try and be friends, so. . .”

“Yeah,” Sirius said, wanting to kick himself at the way you turned him into a monosyllabic neanderthal with just a look. You gave him a small smile before turning back to James who was trying desperately to hide his limp and aching rib cage.

“Alright, let's get you to the hospital wing, Potter,” you sighed, “you look like a cheap action star in a muggle movie.”

“Uh,” James said nervously, “better we not. If I go to Madame Pomfrey three times in one day she'll never let me hear the end of it.”

“And who's fault is that?” You huffed, slinging an arm over his shoulder and helping him walk, “at least let me patch you up, then.”

Sirius followed some distance behind you, watching as you walked James back towards the castle and laughed at his occasional jokes. This one night had just turned everything upside down for Sirius. This whole time he was sure that he didn't like you because you were a blood-purist Slytherin and he was jealous that you were taking his best friend away from him; but the way you had stood up to Lucius and his goons made your position on blood politics very clear, and the tight feeling that struck Sirius' chest as he watched you cozy up with James made him reevaluate just which one of you he was jealous of.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Sirius?”

The man blinked, slowly coming back to reality. You were looking up at him in concern, your head resting lightly on his shoulder. It took an embarrassing amount of his willpower to keep from leaning forward just a few inches and kissing you.

Could you pick a worse time, you numbskull? He thought, mentally smacking himself for even thinking about it.

“Are you okay?” you asked hesitantly after he stayed silent.

“I'm alright,” he insisted, giving you a reassuring smile, “just. . . thinking about how far we've come.”

His answer surprised you, though not in a bad way.

“I suppose we have,” you smiled back, “this is a far cry from you scowling at me from across the Great Hall over your breakfast.”

“I did not scowl,” Sirius scoffed playfully, nudging you away with his shoulder.

“Right,” you grinned, “scowling, glaring, glowering, whichever you prefer.”

“I said I was sorry,” he said, putting his hands up in mock surrender, although you both knew you weren't really upset about it. You'd long since forgiven him for his initial misjudgment.

When your light laughter died down, your head found itself lulling to the side again, tiredness taking over your mind as you rested against Sirius once more. When you tilted your head up to look at him he had a surprisingly pensive look on his face. Your eyes traveled across his expression, his gray eyes almost taking on a deep shade of blue in the shadows of his room. You noticed how much younger he looked when he was smiling; it was in moments like these when it really set in how long you had known each other, because you could see the years in his eyes.

Your own flickered down to his lips in spite of yourself and Sirius' heart skipped a beat, fearing you could feel it racing in his rib cage. When had you turned him so soft? He chuckled inwardly. Long before he had fully come to terms with how he felt about you was the answer. Even when he was in Azkaban, with two of his closest friends dead and the world convinced he was at fault, even if he had to live with the fact that he would never see you again, he still thought of you, and that kept him alive, sane— himself. But now you were here in front of him, and he was terrified that at any moment you would vanish into thin air and he would find himself back in that horrible cinder block cell, face to face with a dementor as it took his last memories of you away from him.

Your hand squeezed his, almost as if you had read his thoughts— as if you were assuring him that you were real, and you weren't going anywhere. You noticed him leaning in closer, even if he didn't, possessed by some invisible force. You were nearly about to meet him halfway when you were suddenly startled apart by the sound of quick, heavy-footed steps bounding down the stairs.

You both looked at each other as if you had just awoken from some sort of trance, instinctively putting some distance between yourselves as you shifted away awkwardly.

“I. . . I should probably get to bed,” you said, your face warm.

“Right,” Sirius said, reluctantly getting up from his seat at the edge of his bed, “I've kept you up long enough, I'm sure you're tired. . .”

Before you left his room you turned over your shoulder, a small smile on your face.

“It's really good to see you again, Sirius,” you said earnestly, “we should catch up for real later.”

“Definitely,” he said, a bit of his old self reflected in that smirk of his, albeit forced.

You steeled yourself, turning the doorknob and closing the door behind you gently before you did something to ruin the friendship you had just gotten back after over a decade. You shook the thought aside, your head hurting. You really did need to sleep after today.

You were about to head into your room, but something in you didn't feel quite right. You'd definitely heard someone go down the stairs, but you hadn't heard the front door open or close. Dread pooled in your stomach at your gut feeling, and you found yourself inexplicably making your way back down the stairs.

The house was eerily silent now that its residents had either gone off to bed or disapparated until the next meeting in a few days time. You'd left Sirius upstairs, and you knew Harry was staying here for the time being until school began, but everyone else had gone home. So then why did you still feel someone else's presence so acutely?

You stared at the empty hallway leading to the front door, taking a cautious step forward; the image in front of you didn't feel real. The colors were too saturated, the edges too sharp, and the surfaces too smooth. And that's when it hit you. The smell of rain. Leather-bound books. Lavender.

You froze, staring at the seemingly empty space in front of you.

“Severus?”

The potions master didn't dare make a sound, thinly veiled behind his invisibility charm but clearly not well enough. He was standing not three feet in front of you, taking in the sight of you as if it were the last thing he would ever see.

He panicked slightly as he felt you reach out to him with your mind, shutting himself off expertly. Your hurt expression as you were unable to detect anything pained him, but he wouldn't dare think that he deserved to say anything to you. What was there to say after everything he'd done?

Your gaze roamed the empty hall, and for a moment he could have sworn you stared him right in the eyes.

You knew he was there.

The moment lasted no longer than a second before you looked away, turning to go back up the stairs. As soon as your back was facing the front door you heard it open then close gently, and the tears you had been fighting to hold back finally spilled over.

Read chapter 4 here !

Taglist: @sleep-i-ness, @blackpinkdolan, @parker-natasha, @ornella0910 @undertaker1827 @thatwierdo-koemi

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mrsfrecklesmarauders · 3 years

Text

The Magical Word of JKR

In this post, I want to point out all the inconsistencies of the world that JKR has created. Some of us had been worshiping her for so long. But JKR made mistakes, not only outside her world, but inside.

Owls for muggleborns. Sending a letter through an owl seems to be something common in The Wizarding World. But why do children with a muggle background need to go back in time and use them when they could use a phone? Why can't students use any muggle technology? I know wizards are anti muggle and magic does not allow these devices to function at Hogwarts, but why not?

Drunk portraits. How could portraits get drunk? Did artists paint vessels and digestive systems for them too? How can they bleed? They are portraits with voices and personality based on real people yeah. But they are not alive. They don’t bleed or get drunk.

The trace. Wizards under 17 aren’t supposed to do magic outside Hogwarts. But The Ministry doesn’t seem to control this by which wand did it. But by location. Since Dobby did magic in the Chamber of Secrets, and they blamed Harry for it. So, what happens with pureblood kids? They are allowed to use magic outside school because their families are supposed to, so they wouldn’t trace them. So it seems unfair for muggleborns not to be able to practice magic. Since they are the only members of their family that would do it.

Hogwarts being the only school. There is only one school in all Britain for magical people. Yet there seems to be very few students when there should be a lot. And it doesn’t make sense that Hogwarts is the only choice. Or Hogwarts, or homeschooling.

I don’t understand the population of Magical Folks. It seems little because most of the wizarding families are known. There are only 28 pureblood famous families. They even practise inbreeding, they are all related. But why is that, if the wizard gene is dominant? There are more half bloods and muggleborns than squibs. So the magical population should be as large as the muggle one, even more.

Hogwarts Houses are cool. But the way kids are sorted doesn’t make sense. They get sorted when they are eleven. Seems pretty young to me to form traits and criteria that might change as they grow. Also, let’s say 100 kids enter Hogwarts one year. They won’t be sorted equally 25/25/25/25. Because according to personalities and traits, there could be 60 Gryffindors and 10 Ravenclaws, and 4 Slyhterins, and 25 Hufflepuffs. What if one year, there are no Slytherins for example?

Also, sharing a dorm, common room and classes with people from your same house (same personality and traits) seems boring and unhealthy. Having friends with different personalities, traits and beliefs should help you grow and mature. Sometimes friendships are built between two opposite people. And separating houses, forces students to just hang out with people from their houses, not others.

Love potions. These are the wizarding equivalent of drugs. Think about it. Forcing someone to show love for you is very much like drugging someone and forcing them to do stuff against their will. Love potions can permit things like raping. Something that happened to Tom Sr. by Merope. It is horrible. Yet the wizarding world permits their selling and consumption without a problem. And what’s worse, they teach how to brew it in school to children! A potion like that shouldn’t be allowed or taught.

Azkaban being the only punishment. It seems whether you are a dangerous criminal like a mass murderer or just someone that stole something once, you get the same punishment. Azkaban. An inhumane place where dementors live, and make prisoners go insane, live their worst nightmares or suck their soul. Even characters who were under the imperius curse like Stanley Shunpike. Or even The Marauders would’ve gone to Azkaban if their animagus secret was discovered. No matter what your crime is, always the worst punishment: Azkaban.

Wizards hiding from muggles. The Statue of Secrecy in the Wizarding World seems to be important. But I may ask, how can wizards hide from muggles if they don’t know anything about them? Pureblood Wizards don’t have a clue how muggles live, behave, dress, talk. Not even Arthur Weasley who works in that Department. Yet they want to be unnoticed by muggles? For example, each time a wizard dresses like a muggle they do it wrong, using colorful clothes. Wouldn’t it be suspicious? Like even Vernon sees people in cloaks in book 1, celebrating. Also, if there are a lot of muggleborns, shouldn’t more muggles know about wizards?

It is totally inhumane to just obliviate muggles each time they see something. That spell should have some consequences in their brains. Like for example, Hermione’s parents must’ve had mayhem after their minds were modified.

Memories in pensieves are not supposed to be accurate. Memories are from our point of view. From the perspective of people who lived that memory. When Harry sees Snape’s memories or Bob Ogden’s memories, they seem to be clear. Harry can see Bob and Snape in those memories when they should be seen through their eyes, they are their memories. How could Snape remember himself, see himself. You get my point? Also, memories are subjective, not objective. We remember what impacted us the most, we forget about details we don’t care about. There are feelings involved.

Not having another education after Hogwarts. You graduate from Hogwarts at eighteen. Eighteen! And you're supposed to have figured out what you want to do for the rest of your life. Why aren’t there Wizard Universities? Wizards only have 7 years of education and that’s all. Nothing before, nothing after (unless you’re muggleborn). Seems that the wizard community doesn’t care about education that much. With only seven years of education, are you suddenly prepared for the rest of your life? I don’t think so.

Adding to the last point, wizards only teach about magic. What about math, wouldn’t they need it to count their money, or take care of their finances? What about English, spelling, grammar? Not every kid had the privilege to be homeschooled by their parents before. What about Sex Ed? I think it is important for teens that age to be careful with their sex lives.

Quidditch being the only sport in the wizarding world. Quidditch is cool, I get it. But it is not for everyone. Seems that if you want to be a sports person in the wizarding world, you only have that option. Either you like Quidditch or nothing.Shouldn’t there be other sports? In the muggle world we have tons: football, basquet, tennis, swimming, running, etc.

Love protection is not common. Lily sacrificed herself for Harry. She died for him and that love protection saved his life. Why is Harry the only one to experience it? Is it because of the prophecy? I mean Lily is not the only one who has sacrificed herself for love. Not in the story, not in History. Then why aren’t there more people with lighting scars walking around?

Why don’t wizards cure things with magic like eyesight? They have a potion that grows bones back. But they cannot cure Harry’s eyesight? And don’t say that it is because eyes are connected to the soul, that’s a lame excuse. In the muggle world, eyesight can be cured with surgery.

Hogwarts Express. Yeah, we all wanted to ride the train to Hogwarts. It is part of the experience right? But what if you live in Scotland already? Why bother traveling to London to King Cross Station to take a train if you already live there? It seems like a waste of time. Is there a provided transport for kids who live in Scotland? What about those who don't live in London? What if Scotland is nearer to them than King Cross?

Ghosts. They shouldn’t exist. It is not very well explained how you become a ghost. But it doesn’t make sense that they exist and yet many characters died and didn’t become one.

Discrimination against magical creatures. We know how magical creatures are seen in the Wizarding World. Discrimination exists. But the problem is that Jkr never does anything to fix this.Not with werewolves, not with half giants, surely not with house-elves. The only issue that the war solved was the discrimination against muggleborns.

And house-elves liking their slavery is problematic. It is saying that slavery is right as long as the victim accepts it. She created S.P.E.W and never properly addressed the issue.

The Forbidden Forest is dangerous, yet students have detention there. Dumbledore says at the beginning of each year that the Forest is out of bounds. So why would you send students to detention there, Dumbles? Also, building a school near a forest full of dangerous beasts: werewolves, acromantulas, centaurs, seems kind of risky for children. Not every child obeys the rules. Look at the Marauders spending every full moon there.

How did Hagrid come to be? Hagrid is half giant. Meaning that his father is human, his mother is a giant… Ehemm… Excuse me, but how do you have sex with a giant? That’s physically impossible. How does Hagrid exist?

Male veelas? We are only introduced to female veelas in the Wizarding World. Veelas are these beautiful women that men feel attracted to, they seem in trance by their beauty, and they are not responsible for their actions. It seems to me that JKR is saying that men should not be accountable for their actions when they see a pretty girl, because it is her fault? Pretty feminist, JKR. Also, veelas are dangerous creatures. How do humans procreate with them and have half veelas or a quarter of a veela? Are there male veelas too?

Teachers not having spouses or kids. It is a stupid stereotype that teachers are sad non social people, who are only teaching because they don’t have a choice. Like they are allowed to have social lives, date, get married and have children, right? Name one Hogwarts teacher who is married with kids. They all seem pretty single. And I get it, being single is not a bad thing. But all of them being single just because they are teachers in a boarding school? Just because it was convenient to the author? Only McGonagall married once, but her husband died a few years after.

Abusive teachers. Speaking of teachers, why would Hogwarts allow incompetent teachers that are abusive (Snape), and or are dangerous for kids. None DADA teacher had teaching experience before. And since there is no further education than Hogwarts, how do teachers get prepared for the job? Teaching is not about knowing a lot of stuff about the subject, but knowing how to treat children.

Muggle vs Wizard music. What is the difference between muggle and wizard music? I never understood that. Is it the fact that wizards play music with magic? If so, why would instruments exist? Why would they play instruments? If anyone can make a spell to produce music, then anyone can be a musician. The only difference that I find is that wizard music has wizard related lyrics. Which is a stupid difference. Wizards could write songs about muggles. Muggles could write songs about wizards.

Secret Keeper. The Fidelius Charm should be a spell to hide yourself from others if you are in danger. Period. There shouldn’t be such a thing as a secret keeper. Why? Why would someone else need to know the place you are hiding? James and Lily shouldn’t have trusted anyone with their location. Not even Sirius. Not even someone they trusted, because Sirius or anyone could’ve died and passed the secret to the others. Like, it doesn’t make any sense. And also, how could Bill and Arthur be their own secret keepers but not James and Lily?

Magical therapists. Healers seem to cure physical maladies or illness pretty fine, but what about mental health? And I am not talking about mental problems because of magic. Like Frank, Alice, Lockheart whose minds were affected by spells. I’m talking about mental illnesses such as depression, anxiety, bipolar disorder, adhd, ptsd, trauma etc. Don’t tell me wizards don’t suffer that. What about Remus, Sirius, Harry? Who treats these things in the wizarding world?

Time Turner. Only exists for the plot. Otherwise it is useless, stupid and confusing. Time traveling confuses the mind. Also, we don’t exactly know how it works. Is it a domino effect? Do the things you do back in time affect the present? They should. Or does it create different timelines, like it is said in Cursed Child? Also, why not use time turners for important situations? For example, save important people from dying, go back to check events of a crime and see if they are true.

Veritaserum. Wizards have a truth potion and they won’t use it. They should use it on trials to take the truth out of criminals, to see if the accusants are innocent or not. They should’ve used it on each member of the Order to find out who the spy was. They should’ve used it to discover who was the Slytherin heir when the Chamber was opened. They should’ve used it on Harry when he came back from the Graveyard to prove Voldemort was back. Why would that shit exist anyway?

Incest families. Pureblood families, or at least some of them are supposed to practise inbreeding. But if you look at the Black Family Tree, the only Black-Black marriage is between Orion and Walburga. Just one. And even if this was the case, shouldn’t this inbreeding have consequences? I don’t know if it’s the magical gene or what but The Blacks and Malfoys seem pretty fine.

If you know more and you want to add them, feel free to do so. This is a critique to improve this word and fandom ourselves. Even JKR's world is cool and wonderful, it is full of flaws that we need to speak about.

#harry potter fandom #harry potter #wizarding world #jkr is a bad writer #anti jkr #anti snape #wizards #hogwarts #quidditch #maraudersera fandom #muggles #wizards vs muggles

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youralwaysandforever · 4 years

Text

the Malfoy bride

Draco Malfoy x Female!Reader

disclaimer; English is not my first language, I am sorry for any mistakes!

summary: you have been engaged to the Malfoy heir since the moment you have been born, although you had never met him. Just when the Second Wizarding War has been officially declared, you have been sent to Britain to finally marry Draco Malfoy, and live with him. (set during the Deathly Hallows Part 1)

warning: strong language, sensitive content (such as panic attacks, violence), graphic sexual scenes.

I had hated the Manor since I had arrived, it had been gloomy, brad, unwelcoming, and lonely. I hadn’t been allowed to leave my chambers. I have been a prisoner in the place that should feel like my home. Draco had rarely visited me, and I have been here for almost two months.

It had been early September (1997), I had been in the library, the only other place, I have been permitted to go. Suddenly, the doors burst open, I promptly stood up, my wand in my hand, pointing towards the doors.

“It’s just me”, he uttered and I exhaled heavily, before collapsing onto the carpet. “What’s wrong with you?”

“I thought that you-”, I shook my head and sat back on the couch.

“You thought that I had been someone else?!”, I only nodded, I hadn’t expected him to sit next to me, but he did. “Has somebody approach you?”, I just sighed.

“I hear echoes throughout the hallways, screamings”, I brought my knees to my chest hugging them. I had been wearing only a satin nightdress, I haven’t found the reason to wear anything but my sleepwear, since I hadn’t been going anywhere else besides my room, and the library.

“This arrived today”, he let out and I raised my eyes to meet his, he had been holding a letter, “It is from your mother”

I hastily opened it and read its content, she had been alive, she would be going to America to stay with our relatives there till the War would end. Typical mother. She hadn’t even asked if I had been alright or if I had wanted to go with her, she had only cared for herself. I stood and threw the letter in the fireplace, staring it as the flames destroyed it.

“This bloody war sucks”, I groaned and I heard Draco chuckling, he had been watching me, his blonde hair falling in his forehead, his grey eyes darkened, and a glass of scotch on his hand. “Where had you been?”, he seemed to be taken aback by my question.

I approached him slowly, his eyes had been studying my moves, I raised my dress, so I wouldn’t step on it, and sat on his lap. He eyed me before wrapping both his arms around my waist, pressing me closer to him.

“You shouldn’t ask where I had been”, he muttered as his eyes landed on my lips, “It isn’t safe for you”, I put a hand on his chin before I leaned forward and kissed him. He immediately kissed me back.

We have kissed before, on the day of our wedding, on the after party, and about a week ago when he hadn’t been sure if he would come back from some mission. We hadn’t been in love with each other but we simply offered each other comfort, closure. Unlike the pecks we shared before, this kiss had been overwhelming, I could feel everything, every single emotion of his, the passion, the lust, the anger, the distress, and the fear.

He suddenly picked me up and laid me over the fluffy carpet in front of the fireplace. Our mouths attached. His hands pushed the straps of my nightdress down, and he rolled my very hard nipples with his fingers as his lips worked on my neck. I moaned and arched my back as soon his tongue began tasting my nipple, he then yanked the fabric of my dress further down and removed his jacket while I literally tore his shirt open. We worked together undoing his pants, the moment they had gone out of the away, he made me sit in his lap again, and I slowly lowered myself on him, taking him in. I heard him hissing and then his teeth grazed on my shoulder. We had been moving in sync, which had been the best feeling in the world, he kissed me, I kissed him. My hands traced his gorgeous muscles while his had been squeezing my bum roughly. I had been close and he had to be feeling it, because, then he changed our positions lying me across the carpet and trust in me brutally, my fingernails scratched his back. We moaned so loud, when we orgasmed, I had been sure the entire Manor had heard us but I hadn’t care at that moment.

Without releasing we had fallen asleep on the carpet, Draco had conjured a couple of pillows and a blanket to cover us. We had just stayed lying together, naked, my head on his chest and his arms around me for the first time in months, I felt that we have been married, that we have been belonged to each other now.

“Kiara”, he muttered against my hair, I lifted my head to face him and he smiled to me, “Wanna go to bed?”

He had asked the most simple thing but for a reason, I could help but widely smile at him, I pecked his lips and when he opened his eyes and stared at each me, I felt something burning inside me, my magic, as if it had changed somehow.

It had been several weeks since we had fucked at the carpet of the library, Draco and I have been spending every night together. He would usually have to attend a meeting with the Death Eaters and Lord Voldemort in the evenings but the nights had been ours.

Tonight; I had to attend a dinner with them as wife of Draco, I had been afraid to be in the presence of You-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, but I had no choice.

I had been wearing a long, backless, sleeveless, silver dress which had been chosen by Narcissa Malfoy, my mother-in-law, and had been extremely well-fitted on me. I had matched it with a pair of black stilettos and long silver-rose diamond earrings. While my long hair had been beautifully fixed up by the Malfoy house elf.

I have been about to step out of my chambers when I sensed a powerful protecting spell being cast around the room. I grasped my wand and pointed at the door but I lowered because Draco walked inside dressed in the most sexy dark grey tuxedo.

“You look ravishing”, I smirked and approached him seductively, making sure to show the cut in the side of my dress.

“Your mother picked it”, he dragged me to his arms and grinned against my lips.

“Then perhaps my mother doesn’t want us to attend the dinner after all”, he smashed his lips on mine and I quickly wrapped my arms around his neck, pressed myself closer to him.

He suddenly hoisted me up, I unconsciously secured my legs around him, and then he walked towards the bed. He laid me down onto the bed and hovered over me, trailing his tongue along my neck, and shoulders. Draco found my sensitive spot behind my ear and bit on hard, making moan loudly and arch my back, that seemed to appreciate, as he rapidly pushed my dress down enough to fully expose my breasts.

“No bra, my love?”, he asked, grinning, and he closed his lips around one of my nipples as his hand cupped my other breast.

“It has been because of the dress”, I managed to say and he smirked evilly, before shoving his hand under my dress and finding the wet mess which he created.

“You want me, huh?!”, I undid his jacket and shirt, as he then thrust three fingers in me without a warning.

He shoved roughly, added another one, more harshly, I had braised myself against the headboard, while he had been fucking me with his fingers, he twisted and pushed in and out of me in such a brutal speed. I had been a moaning mess under him.

“I asked a question”, he hissed, and picked my nipple with his free hand while he kept fingering me. “Kiara”

“Yes!”, I yelled at the top of my lungs, “I bloody want you so much!”, he grabbed my face kissing me hard.

I heard him whispering something, probably a charm, and our clothes became a pile on the ground. We had been both finally completely naked, he hadn't wasted any time, he replaced his hand with his hard member. I literally shed tears, he had been gripping my hips as he pounded. I had closed my eyes, but then I felt him kissing me on the cheek, jaw, I opened my eyes and I found him looking at me. He smirked and pressed his lips on mine, he kissed me slowly, affectionately, and that had been it.

“Draco”, I screamed as he thrust one more time hard, it had been the best orgasm of my life. Draco came a couples of seconds later.

“Merlin, I love you”, he groaned and pulled out of me, before collapsing next to me.

We had been lying on the bed, completely naked, not even bothering to cover. He had been on his stomach with his head turned towards me, while I had been on my right side staring back at him. His eyes have been glowing with love, he had said that he loved me, and I had to tell him. I needed to. Now more than ever.

“Draco”, I started, then he caressed my lower lip with his thumb while looking at me. “I think I’m pregnant��

His eyes widened, and suddenly moved on top of me, I gazed at him trying hard to not look below his waist. He supported himself on his elbows on either side of me in order to not crush me and simply stared at me.

“You think”, his palm rested on my belly and I sighed, throwing my head back. “You must leave then, love”

“Leave?!”, I asked and he kissed me softly.

“You cannot stay here if you’re carrying my child, our child”, he said and walked across the room, grabbed his wand and conjured back his clothes. He stood in front of the mirror and started fixing his hair.

“I ain’t going anywhere, Draco”, I replied and hugged the sheets around my breasts and he sat at the edge of the bed looking at me.

“You have to, darling”, I had been feeling tears on the eyes and tried to hold them back, he softly squeezed my hand. “You should not attend dinner either, I shall come with an excuse. You make sure you have things ready in case you’ll have to go tonight”

“I don’t want to leave you alone in this house”, he just smiled and then kissed my forehead before going out of the room.

I stood from the bed, packed a bag with things that I would probably need wherever I would be taken, and I decided to have a long bath, I removed my makeup, jewelry, released my hair, and let myself sink into the warm water.

Pregnant. I have been only eighteen and I have never imagined myself having a child before twenty-five at least. But I hadn’t imagined being married so young, so I guess things do change.

I moved out of the bathtub, dried myself and my hair, wore a long sleeveless nightdress with a knit sweater over it. It had been over 10 pm, dinner had to be over, I wondered why Draco hadn’t returned yet. I sat back the bed and decided to the charm to be one hundred sure that I had been pregnant. I placed my wand over my belly, took a deep breath before saying the charm and when I opened my eyes, I found a blue glow over my stomach, meaning positive. I had been pregnant.

It had been early in the morning, I hadn’t managed to sleep, Draco hadn’t returned either which worried me a lot. I decided to do something that I really shouldn’t but I had been extremely anxious about him, I walked out of my bedroom and headed for the living room of the Manor.

“Mrs. Malfoy”, I jumped at the sudden voice and as I turned I lowered my eyes to the ground to find an elf looking at me, he had big blue eyes and a kind smile. “I have been sent to accompany you to a safe house, my name’s Dobby, ma’am”

“Pleased to meet you”, I then looked at the other end of the corridor which lead to the rest of the Manor, “I want to grab my bag from my room, would be alright to apparate from there?”, he nodded at me before he disappeared, I rushed back into my bedroom, put on some shoes and grabbed my wand and my back.

I then let my eyes drift to my engagement ring which had been a simple silver one with a bright pink stone, while our wedding rings had been dark silver with our the crest of the Malfoy family inside of it. I had finally accepted him, us, and now I had to leave him alone. I sighed and stopped my tears before calling Dobby to appear, and he did.

“Ready, ma’am?”, I nodded, the elf had been about to apparate us away when the room’s door burst open. I turned to see Draco standing there with his aunt and father.

“Dobby, go”, Draco spoke avoiding looking at me, the elf let go of my hand and disappeared.

“What’s going on?”, I asked, trying to not show how I trembled.

“You dare to ask! You filthy half-blood!”, Bellatrix then screamed and moved towards me, “You’re a liar! You don’t deserve the Malfoy name! You dared to seduce Draco and make him have your disguising half-blood as his own!”

“But I’m not a”, she slapped me hard across the face, I land to the ground, coughing blood.

“Your whore mother had you with a muggleborn! She had dared to make fool of us! The Malfoys will not let this go”, Lucius, my father-in-law, shouted. He stood next to Bellatrix and kicked me hard in the stomach.

“Father, enough!”, Draco tried to stop his father but Lucius slapped him and pushed him back.

“You have shamed us”, Lucius said, “I will not accept a half-blood Malfoy! Do you understand what you’ve done?”, the eldest Malfoy yelled and kicked me again in the stomach, I cried out in pain. He then pulled out his wand and glared at me, and then glanced back at Draco. “That has to be a reminded that Malfoys take no less than the pure”, Lucius said and with his wand turned at me, he uttered the killing curse.

“NO”, Draco’s gorgeous silver eyes filled in with tears had been the last thing I had seen in this world. Then they were darkness. Absolute darkness, nothing else.

Forever yours, Kiara Malfoy.

(please don’t hate me. I love you! Thank you for all the support! ♥︎)

#draco malfoy #draco lucius malfoy #draco malfoy fanfiction #draco malfoy imagine #draco imagine #draco malfoy smut #draco malfoy fluff #draco malfoy angst #female!reader #draco malfoy x female reader #draco x female reader #draco x reader #harry potter imagine #harry potter fanfiction #hp fanfic #harry potter fandom #youralwaysandforeverimagine #youralwaysandforeverfanfiction

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angelicamerlinbarnes · 3 years

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Albus Dumbledore being an awesome teacher and human being

Bubblegum Bitch - MARINA

(Imma be honest with y’all, it’s mostly just him being a crackhead.)

He tells stories about Grindelwald, about their marriage and their beliefs and their lives together. All of the stories have lessons - sure, a lot of those lessons are about how NOT to make pasta, but they’re still lessons!

He likes to matchmake students using seating charts and certain magical spell assignments. He’s very good at it. I mean, he’s shit at figuring out who likes each other, but he is great at meddling, so Mcgonogall tells him who to mess with and he does as he’s told. They make a great team (and are invited to a lot of weddings). Couples they’ve helped include but are not limited to: Dean and Seamus, Luna and Ginny, Hermione and Harry and Ron, Sirius and Remus, Peter and Maxwell Needles, Peter and Regulus (that was later), Lily and Severus and James, Fred and Lee plus George and Lee, Charlie and Newt (queerplatonic), Leta and Newt (queerplatonic), Harry and Luna (queerplatonic), and Sirius and James and Remus (queerplatonic). They’ve been very busy.

He and Mcgonogall have teatime almost every day. They talk about their students and work on their matchmaking plans. There’s a lot of sass and deadpanning involved. Sometimes they invite Remus, Sirius, and James. (Not Peter. He doesn’t need the same level of torturing that they do.) Bubbles of all shapes and sizes and colors float around the room the whole time. It’s fantastic.

He accepts gossip in exchange for extra credit. He’s a really good secret keeper too, so a lot of students go for it. (It hasn’t broken any friendships. There’s an understanding among the student population that Dumbledore is like Ms. Potts from that Muggle film Beauty and the Beast - well-meaning and trustworthy, but terribly, terribly bored.)

Everything in his classroom is pink. And glittery. And covered in sequins. Once a student asked him why and he just smirked for a solid minute before whispering, “Lemonade.” (As if that makes any fucking sense.)

He once taught class in a full-fledged glittery ballgown that faded from light pink to deep purple. He did not once acknowledge it or act like anything was out of the ordinary. One student raised their hand and asked timidly, “Professor? Why are you wearing a ballgown?” And his brow furrowed as he frowned, looked down at himself, and muttered, “Thought it was a bathrobe.” (Harry does not let him live this one down. His dad is not much help - Severus took many, many pictures.) (Not that it mattered. On Wednesdays Dumbledore wears pink (glittery ballgowns).)

He speaks to kids who have parents, friends, and relatives in prison, whether for being Death Eaters or otherwise. He chaperones visits to Azkaban for them so they can see their loved ones. He casts protective and invisibility charms on them so only the one they’re visiting can see or hear them, and he teaches them Patronuses (with Remus’ help, of course). He often spends these visits on the other side of Grindelwald’s bars, playing wizard’s chess against him. (Sometimes Grindelwald gives him flowers. It always makes Dumbledore smile. There may be no one left in the world who understands why they love each other, but they don’t need to understand it for it to be true.)

He stands at the front of the classroom and makes funny faces during tests and waits to see how long it takes for a student to look up. His latest record is seven minutes.

When he’s teaching Grindelwald’s history, he makes snarky comments about his husband. They range from “I mean really. Who the fuck thought wizards ruling Muggles was a good idea?” (Rest in peace that one student who thought it was a good idea to say, “You did, Professor.”) to “Honestly, that man has no concept of romance. I ask him for a nice night out and he takes me to a Muggle rally about witchcraft and tries to impress me by playing practical magical jokes on the speaker. A toddler could do that.” (He often gets mushy during those stories though, usually trailing off like “But that time he took me to my childhood home for my birthday was sweet… brought me flowers for Ariana’s grave and everything. Sure, he killed her, but… he has a sweet side…” and from there on out he’s basically a lost cause and you might as well go to your next class because he’s not going to stop humming that fucking Elvis song).

He “loses” his glasses all the time by casting an invisibility charm on them and forces his students to search the classroom for them when they’re on his face the whole time. He thinks it’s funny. Harry does not. (But Severus and Mcgonogall do, and that’s really what matters.) (Severus and Mcgonogall and Dumbledore are a fantastic trio full of snark and sarcasm and shit, I have just decided.)

He makes little animals out of multi-colored magical dust and they fly around the classroom and perch on his favorite students’ heads. Once a dragon fell asleep on Newt’s head and wouldn’t leave even when class was over. Newt had to wait for the magic to wear off so it would disintegrate. (Of course, he had named it by that point and had a meltdown when it disappeared, so Dumbledore recreates the dragon (Robert) every class and just lets Newt coo at it, even during tests.)

He conjured and charmed two giant (I mean Egypt half-animal half-man guard statue size giant) fluffy pink teddy bears that are alive and stand on either side of him like bodyguards during class. A Slytherin student punched one in the stomach once and it vomited enough M&Ms over their head to completely bury them. The student’s partner, a Ravenclaw student, punched the other one in an ill-advised burst of illogical thought and received the same treatment, but in Skittles. (Luckily their Gryffindor aro-ace friend and nonbinary Hufflepuff friend stayed after class and ate until they could move again. Safe to say no one has dared punch the bears again.) (Though I hear they do give very good hugs. And they eat homework if you ask nicely enough!)

He has a bunch of cloaks that act as portals to realms like Merlin’s Celestiums (S.G.E., Soman Chainani). He gives one to each student for tests, and they are transported to their ideal test-taking environments, complete with whatever song they feel like listening to at any given minute playing all around them. Unsurprisingly, his students have the best grades in all of Hogwarts. (He also has a secret cloak that he uses for himself, to see Grindelwald. Grindelwald has his own matching one so he can always make it home for Thursday date night.) (They have been caught. Of course they have. But no one is going to challenge Dumbledore for his right to see his husband, even if he did marry a murderer.) (Sirius and Remus used to steal the cloak for their own dates. And later on James would steal it to take the two of them on friend-dates. Inspired by that, Dumbledore made a special cloak for Mcgonogall that he gifted her on her fiftieth birthday. The smile she gave him then is his favorite of all time.)

He bickers with Fawkes constantly. This often evolves into full-fledged screaming matches with spastic hand gestures, gratuitous spit, and angry hops on both sides. Once Dumbledore drew wand on his “useless babbling bastard of a bird”. No one has bothered to tell Dumbledore that Fawkes probably can’t understand a word of their arguments. (They do evacuate the classroom when these fights start though. The last time they stayed their hair was gone for a week, and when it grew back it was glittery and pink.) (Harry looked especially fantastic. Sirius thought he looked great. He laughed until he was in tears. Harry was not amused.) (Remus was.)

Sometimes he’s absent from class and Mcgonogall teaches them instead. When asked if he’s alright, Mcgonogall simply answers, “My partner is away on personal business for the day. Now, turn to page -” Soon enough people figured out that “personal business” meant “conjugal visit with Genocidal Maniac Husband™ in prison”. They stopped asking.

He gives all of his students the red button test (without knowing what it does, do you press the red button?). Those who pass get automatic A’s and a lollipop. Those who fail get a talking pet pygmy puff. The thing that usually trips people up is that Dumbledore considers the “correct” answer to be pressing the goddamn button. (Seamus is the only one who has ever passed (enthusiastically too!). Newt half-passed because Niffy the Niffler sat on it.) (Sirius and James would have passed too if they had not been the life partners of one Remus Lupin, whose creativity with threats and extensive curse-word vocabulary rivaled Mcgonogall’s even at the tender age of fifteen.)

He has floating war maps just lying around. He plays battleship with his students on them. What he neglects to tell them is that their moves have actual consequences in the world, as the maps are magical and reflect real battles and places. When Harry finds out (he blew up Denmark, completely unawares) he shows up at Dumbledore’s door soaking wet at five-thirty in the morning with a newspaper, his fists clenched, his face red, and his chest heaving. He wouldn’t stop glaring for weeks. (Alas, Dumbledore’s glorious beard has great resistance to fire spells.) (Following an incident involving the original four Marauders in their third year. Shhh… we do not speak of that.)

He has a habit of walking into random classrooms, gesturing for a student to come with him with his finger, and then taking them to his office for teatime. He usually asks them inane questions about a specific theme (fish, pasta strainers, socks, throw pillows, mooses, etc.) for hours until finally dismissing them. It drives Mcgonogall crazy. (She’s yelled at him plenty for “kidnapping students to ask them questions you know you could easily find on that Muggle infer-het thing! They have exams, Albus -” but he just smiles at her while calmly sipping his tea and she always ends up collapsing in the chair across from him with a sigh, taking the tea from his hands and chugging it before wiping her mouth, slamming it down on the desk, and asking, “So. Fish. What’s up with them?” and Albus just beams.)

He spends half of his class lessons babbling on about how Merlin was gay for Arthur and Arthur was gay for Merlin, but not in long tangents. Just a bunch of random comments without context, warning, or explanation. (He mentions “poetry” a lot and waggles his eyebrows for some reason, so… what’s up with that? (Merlin BBC))

He overshares A LOT about his and Grindelwald’s lives. It’s a problem because 90% of the time it’s something sweet or innocent like “Oh, he brought me a tiger lily that bloomed open to show a gold and ruby ring nestled inside on our first anniversary. That’s how he proposed to me” and “He used to hum while he did the housework, you know? He’d stand in the middle of the house and close his eyes and just hum. Almost entire symphonies too, just waving his wand in the air like a conductor” to “This one time in bed he…” and there is NO warning. The amount of things these poor children’s ears have had to endure… (*shakes head in mock disappointment*)

He often cooks during class using wandless magic. The pots and pans heat themselves and float around in the air. Sometimes Dumbledore dances and then they start dancing too. He whistles and creates a base beat for the sizzling, popping, clanging, and other kitchen noises to follow. This usually happens during tests. Oh joy.

He leaves the windows open when it rains, but somehow nothing ever gets wet. Harry and Hermione have a theory that it’s protection charms. (Really it’s a spell Severus made up when he was drunk because he was angry that umbrellas don’t have enough room under them for three, and he’s always been the most self-sacrificial person in his marriage.)

He regularly makes bets with Mcgonogall about the students’ love lives. Not money, but little things the other doesn’t want to do or buy. Dumbledore usually has to handle the Marauders’ detentions or give up one of his teddy bear guards for Mcgonogall’s experimental enjoyments. Mcgonogall has to do something embarrassing or let him borrow one of her glittery hats. They should really stop making bets at this point; the stakes and the winners are dreadfully predictable. He always wins when the bet is on a student’s sexuality or gender and she always wins when the bet is on who a student will end up with. Nonetheless, the bets continue. So too does their grumbling amusement.

He figured out how to make a broom invisible when he and Grindelwald first fell in love, so they could be showy with each other at their Greater Good rallies. They later used it for dates, prison breaks, and daring escapes complete with kisses under the moon. Once Grindelwald went to Azkaban, Dumbledore used it to find some privacy where he could grieve. Now, he uses it to travel around his classroom and Hogwarts and trick everyone into thinking he can fly by sheer will. Only Mcgonogall knows his secret. (And Severus, but Dumbledore doesn’t know that because he told him when he was black out drunk. So.)

He lets pygmy puffs sleep in his beard. Sorry, I don’t make the rules.

He once taught class while teetering on his feet because he had somehow gotten himself tangled in Christmas lights from shoulders to ankles and couldn’t move. (Sirius wandered in and saw this, cried he was laughing so hard, and then warbled his off-key way through as many Christmas carols as he could remember for the rest of class.) (Dumbledore tried to Silencio him but just fell over trying to make the wand movement. He broke his nose. Sirius almost had a panic attack because he couldn’t breathe from how hard he was laughing. By the end of this he had curled up in a fetal position on the floor, Remus was lying down next to him and muttering jokes to him, Mcgonogall was trying to fix Dumbledore’s face, and Severus had taken over the class. Not that they got much done - James was visiting that day. And him, Sirius, and Remus all laughing about the same thing rarely leads to a quiet and calm learning environment.) (They gave him a joint present of rainbow Christmas lights for his birthday - “Happy Gay Day, Professor!” - and he was not amused.) (Grindelwald was though. So was everyone else.)

He tends to mix up holidays in his head and often decorates for the wrong one. He goes all out too. He’s kind of a disaster, and so is his classroom. It became such a problem that the Marauders actually took pity on him and made him a very big calendar with all the holidays marked on it in glitter and fake jewels and flowers. It sits behind his desk and occasionally works.) (Occasionally.)

He’s queerplatonic partners with Mcgonogall. They held a friend-wedding and forced Severus to be the flowergirl. Harry officiated, Remus was Dumbledore’s best man, Sirius was Mcgonogall’s, James wasn’t given a job cause he was crying too much, Lily was in charge of taking care of James, and Peter was the ring bearer (he only lost them TWICE and they were ring pops anyway). Mcgonogall screeches at him a lot and Dumbledore can be depressive and neglectful because he misses Grindelwald but they love each other so it works. (And they’re the prime source of advice for James, Sirius, and Remus regarding their own queerplatonic relationship, for better or for worse.)

He puts his feet up on the desk even though it’s bad for his knees. Mcgonogall told him it’s bad for his knees and he has stubbornly put them up there every class since. (His knees are killing him but he will not give in to “a paranoid, batty old witch who doesn’t know shit about what’s good for me and wouldn’t if she was hit with an Imperio and I told her -” “I’M YOUR FUCKING PARTNER, YOU BLASPHEMOUS ARROGANT BRAT OF AN OLD FART!”)

Instead of walking around his classroom, he struts. (Yes, it worsens his knees.) He does strike poses, he does make obnoxious expressions, and he does look fabulous. WORK! (Yes, that was a Hamilton reference.)

He once taught class without a face because Mcgonogall cursed him for “fucking up the alphabetical organization of my tea, you old twit. Honestly, Albus, it’s not that hard”. (How did he teach without a mouth, you ask? Easy, he used intermediate BSL (deaf students, plus Azkaban isn’t great on old men’s ears and he and Grindelwald are both gettin’ up there) and Sirius interpreted.) (Incredibly wrongly, crudely, and foul-mouth-ly, but nonetheless he interpreted.)

He has difficulty understanding the straight people in his class. He is fully accepting of everyone and wants the best for all of them, but when it comes to relationship advice, he’s shit.

Excerpt pulled from Pensieve of a conversation he had with a student who identified as female:

Dumbledore: “So your boyfriend is a dick, is what you’re saying?”

Student’s best friend: “Yes. Merlin, he’s such a dick. Would you believe he -”

Dumbledore: *looks at student and points to her best friend* “Why don’t you just date her?”

*cue red faces and sputtering*

(They did not take his advice.)

He wears bowties ALL THE TIME. If he’s not wearing a bowtie, there are bows in his hair and tying the ends of his beard together. Once he wore pigtails. It was great.

He has a habit of bursting into song randomly and performing full-blown Broadway musical numbers (yes, he can rap Guns and Ships at full speed). This usually involves all of the complex moves to be expected in a musical - dramatically climbing up the stairs while looking forlorn, leaping onto the desk and squatting as you launch into a whispered limerick, speedy costume changes - you know, the works. Sometimes Sirius and James back him up, if they’re there. Severus will take over teaching with a bored look on his face (“What are you looking at, Harry?” “Dad, there’s -” “I don’t see anything interesting happening, Harry.” *glares*) while Mcgonogall screeches at Dumbledore to “GET THE FUCK DOWN, YOU NARCISSISTIC HEATHEN!” It’s a problem.

When the Marauders challenge the dress code, Dumbledore is the first Professor to encourage it. While Sirius is perfectly confident in a skirt and Regulus isn’t far behind (neither is Severus, surprisingly), James and Remus are far more insecure. Dumbledore wears a tutu to class one day to show his support, and Remus wouldn’t stop smiling the rest of the day. (James just turned bright red and beamed when Sirius started laughing.) He also backed Lily up when she wore pants (along with Marlene, Dorcas, and Mary) by convincing Mcgonogall to wear pantsuits for a week. (Sirius, despite being a hardcore gay, was quite affected by this. Remus did not appreciate the water spit in his face and refused to kiss Sirius for a week.)

He plays Cecily Smith (Will Connolly) on the ukulele on late nights and stares out at the stars thinking of Grindelwald. Sometimes he forgets to turn off the Sonorus from earlier that day and ends up broadcasting his little song to the whole school. Sirius and Remus will dance to it in the common room while James watches his partners with a happy smile on his face (and Peter sleeps, because he’s tired and doesn’t force himself to stay up simply for the purpose of being cool or finishing that one assignment that isn’t due for another two weeks) (I’m sorry, do you feel called out?).

This man has weed brownies stashed away in his desk and he does eat them during class. He also offered one to Remus once, who is the only student that knows about the stash and tends to use marijuana for medical purposes (helping with anxiety and pain regarding the full moon, courtesy of my beautiful girlfriend who has never read nor seen Harry Potter but nonetheless insists to me that Remus Lupin is a stoner who wears red beanies). This prompted Sirius to ask for one, which Dumbledore refused, but then James joined in and they started a riot by standing on their desks and pumping their fists in the air and screaming, “BROWNIES FOR ALL!” while Remus giggled into his hand and was no help at all, so Dumbledore gave them each a brownie just to shut them up. (Sirius wouldn’t stop rambling about how pretty Remus’ eyes were, James was babbling on about unicorns, Severus was hissing at something no one else could see, Regulus was hissing at the same thing for some reason, Peter was crying because he couldn’t tell the difference between hamsters and gerbils and guinea pigs, and Lily was muttering pi under her breath until she fell asleep.) (Mcgonogall was unimpressed.) (No teatime for eight weeks. Damn.)

Dumbledore cares about all of his students, however little he shows it. He wants them to lead a better life than he did. And maybe fall in love with better people than he did.

#albus dumbledore #albus wulfric percival brian dumbledore #mcgonogall &x dumbledore #&x means queerplatonic i have just decided #grindledore #wolfstar #james &x remus &x sirius #severus & mcgonogall & dumbledore #james x lily x severus #albus dumbledore is a crackhead 2021 #i dunno please enjoy this shit #i'm really fucking tired #harry potter #have a nice day y'all

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engie-ivy · 3 years

Text

“What are you saying, Remus?”

Remus doesn’t spare him. “You won’t get custody over Harry as long as I’m around.”

Sirius closes his eyes. “It doesn’t stop, does it?”

It was supposed to be better after the war...

Already Decided

“I’m surprised you found me,” Remus says, folding his arms over his chest.

Dumbledore looks up from the cup of tea he’s holding. “I wasn’t aware you were trying to hide.”

Remus shrugs. “I wasn’t. Not per se. It’s just been so long. I figured I’d be hard to track.”

Dumbledore takes in Remus’ worn robes, greying hair and the dark circles under his eyes. “You look bad.”

“Why, thank you,” Remus says with a wry laugh. “That’s what years of living with my condition tends to do.”

“I would’ve thought the new Wolfsbane Potion made things easier for you.”

Now Remus laughs out loud. “Yes, because of course an expensive potion targeted to a population for whom it’s practically impossible to get a decent job is going to solve it all.”

“I actually got a job offer for you,” Dumbledore responds. “I’m in need of a new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher.”

This makes Remus laugh again. “Well, that doesn’t surprise me.”

Dumbledore puts down his tea. “I assume you’ve heard about Pettigrew’s escape?”

Remus’ face darkens. “Yes. I assume you know about...?”

“His Animagus form?” Dumbledore finishes. “I’ve been informed. I must say, Lupin, I’m disappointed in you. When I gave you the opportunity to attend Hogwarts, I had expected you to adhere to the rules set for the other students’ safety.”

There was a time in which Dumbledore’s disappointment would’ve gutted Remus. Hearing the words now, however, he can’t bring himself to care. It’s been a long time since he cared. “So, do you expect that Pettigrew will be targeting Harry Potter?”

“It’s possible,” Dumbledore replies calmly. “Harry Potter’s godfather is concerned, to say the least. It’ll help if I hire a trustworthy Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher to keep an eye out. He wasn’t well pleased with me when the last one I hired tried to Obliviate Harry, and the one before that tried to kill him.”

“I reckon he wasn’t,” Remus replies.

“If you were willing to fill the position, you could be provided with a vast supply of Wolfsbane,” Dumbledore says casually.

“While if I refuse your bribe, you’ll leave me to my fate?”

Dumbledore doesn’t even bother to reply.

Remus sighs. “I used to admire you, you know.” He shakes his head. Anyways, if you want to appease Harry Potter’s godfather, you shouldn’t be asking me. I’d assume he hates me.”

“I thought Harry Potter’s godfather was your friend?” Dumbledore asks innocently.

Remus clenches his jaw. “You know very well what he was to me.”

12 years earlier

Remus lowers the letter he’d been reading when he hears the front door open. He still feels the urge to jump to his feet and grab his wand, but the war is over and a door opening doesn’t mean an attack might be coming anymore.

“So, Dumbledore tells me they’re going to give Malfoy the benefit of the doubt,” Sirius immediately goes off as he enters the kitchen. “Can you believe it? I’ll kiss Kreacher before I believe he acted under the influence of the Imperius Curse!” He shrugs off his leather jacket and hangs it over a chair. “But Dumbledore says we have to believe it as long as we don’t have strong evidence that proofs the contrary.” He rolls his eyes. “Yet they sent Pettigrew to Azkaban without so much as a trial.”

Remus arches an eyebrow. “Surely you don’t mind that?”

“Of course not!” Sirius’ face darkens as he remembers the mass murder, but even worse, the betrayal that signed their best friends’ death sentences. “But if they’re going to send people to prison without a trial, I wish they’d do it with the rich ones as well. No double standards, y’know?”

His eyes fall in the letter Remus had been reading. “What’s that?”

Remus hands it to him wordlessly. No use postponing it.

Eviction Notice

To: R. J. Lupin

According to our information, you, as a registrant of the Lycanthrope Database, are currently the inhabitant of this premise.

Regretfully, we must inform you that under the recently passed Anti-Werewolf Legislation Act of 1981, it is stated that ‘no one affected with the Lycanthropy affliction is allowed to live within a 10-kilometre radius from an urban area, where the creature can pose a danger to others’.

In accordance with this law, we urge you to vacate this premise as soon as possible, as otherwise legal action shall be undertaken.

Was signed,

The Ministry of Magic

Remus studies Sirius’ face closely while he’s reading, and he sees it: Sirius is worried and tired. So very tired. Only for a split second, then Sirius plasters that unaffected smile on his face as he throws the letter back on the table. “Well, that was to be expected any time now. We’ll find a way to deal with that later.”

He’s pretending for my sake, Remus thinks. Acting like he’s not concerned, so I won’t feel guilty.

“I should leave,” Remus says.

“We probably should,” Sirius sighs. “I don’t really see another outcome. I’m sure we’ll be able to find a new place we can live. I’ll start asking around.”

“And then what?” Remus asks. “A week, maybe two, until another letter comes?”

“What would you suggest, then?”

“I already suggested it,” Remus says. “I should leave.”

“No.”

“Padfoot...”

“No! For Godric’s sake, Moony! We fought a war together! We risked our lives for each other! We faced death side by side! We managed to withstand suspicion and false accusations! And now you want to give up because of a dumb letter?”

“It’s not just the letter,” Remus says. “You know it’s not! The attitude towards werewolves in England has always been bad, but now so many werewolves have fought on You Know Who’s side during the war and the tales of Greyback’s cruelties are rapidly spreading through the wizarding community, it has gotten so much worse. It won’t stop here.”

“Then we’ll spread the tale of the brave werewolf in the Order of the Phoenix who risked his life fighting for what's right!” Sirius exclaims.

Remus shakes his head. “They won’t listen. You know what people are like. They only listen to stories that fit within their pre-existing worldview. Fear will lead to hatred, and it’s only a matter of time before hatred leads to violence. It’s not safe for me to remain in England.”

“We’ll move to some cottage in the countryside,” Sirius pleads. “Far away from any ‘urban area’, where no one will bother us! Or we’ll cross the English Channel into France! I speak French!”

Remus gives him a small, sad smile. “You’re trying to get custody over Harry. The Ministry won’t grant you custody if you live in some abandoned cottage, far away from any facilities, schools, and other children to play with, much less if you go abroad without a job, or even a place to live.”

“The hearing for Harry’s custody is next week,” Sirius replies stubbornly. “Once we have it, we can do whatever we want!”

It’s tempting. Merlin, it’s tempting. Remus wants nothing more than to be persuaded by Sirius’ arguments, to believe it really is possible, that Harry, Sirius and he can live happily ever after in some cottage in the countryside, together. But Remus has to be sensible.

“Harry is their national treasure,” he says. “The famous Boy Who Lived. Lily and James made their wishes evidently clear, but still many people from the Ministry don’t want to see him raised by a Black. They’ll latch on to every little thing they can to deny you custody. And being associated with a werewolf is no little thing.”

Sirius looks at him, fear visible in his eyes. “What are you saying, Remus?”

Remus doesn’t spare him. “You won’t get custody over Harry as long as I’m around.”

Sirius closes his eyes. “It doesn’t stop, does it?”

“Sirius...”

“Fabian, Gideon, Marlene, Dorcas, Regulus, Lily, James... Hasn’t it been enough?”

Remus gets up from his chair and sits down on his knees in front of Sirius, taking his hands in his own. “Look at me, Sirius. Please look at me.”

Sirius opens his eyes, silent tears streaming down his face. “Don’t,” he whispers. “Don’t make me choose. You’re all I have left. You and Harry... You’re all I have left. Please, don’t make me choose.”

Remus gathers the trembling man in front of him in his arms and rubs soothing circles on his back. “I won’t,” he says. “I promise I won’t make you choose.”

Sirius pulls away slightly to cup Remus’ face in his hands and searches his eyes, looking for the lie. Remus encircles his wrists with his hands and looks back with a steady gaze.

“I love you, Remus Lupin,” Sirius says earnestly, almost like a challenge.

“I love you too, Sirius,” Remus replies without hesitation.

Sirius kisses him fiercely, desperately. Remus allows himself to get caught up in it, allows himself to forget. Forget about the prejudice, the legislation, the letter, the hearing. Forget about everything, just for the moment. Everything but the feel of Sirius’ lips on his skin and Sirius’ hands on his body.

Afterwards, Remus is lying on his back in their bed, staring up at the ceiling. Sirius is fast asleep, tucked against his side, an arm splayed across his chest and his head resting in the crook of his neck.

Moonlight drifts through the curtains. Moonlight. Moonlight that has already taken so much from him. This will be the last. After this, there’s nothing left.

He carefully detangles himself from Sirius and silently puts his clothes back on. As he looks down on Sirius’ sleeping form, he can’t help but reach out and carefully brush a strand of hair from his face. “I won’t make you choose,” he whispers. “I’ve already chosen for you.”

Sirius takes a few sips from the water placed in front of him, while the wizard at the other side of the table, a middle-aged man in sharp, dark blue wizarding robes, rummaged through his papers.

“Well, Mr Black,” he says, as Sirius places his glass back down. “The documents seem to be in order. Mr and Mrs Potter were very thorough in their paperwork. They have fully filled in each form, dated and signed by both of them. I must say, their wishes are evidently clear.”

The witch sitting next to the man, a short woman with a broad face, wide mouth and bulging eyes, somehow reminding Sirius of a toad, wearing pink, frilly robes, lets out a small cough.

The wizard, however, ignores her. “I assume you’ve been thinking about practical matters, such as education and healthcare?”

The witch makes another coughing noise.

The wizard pointedly keeps ignoring her. “I must tell you, even if you’re given custody, the Ministry is planning on monitoring the child closely. With everything he’s been through and the publicity around him, it’s a precarious situation. If we find that you cannot offer the boy a stable home environment...”

The toad-like witch lets out another small cough. The wizard grits his teeth, but Sirius is barely aware of it. He finally feels an emotion burning through the numbness, something fierce. “I will provide him with a home.”

“Don’t get me wrong, Mr Black,” the wizard says. “I’m not trying to aggravate you. It’s for your own sake, as well as the boy’s. Mr Black, you’re only twenty-two years old, you’ve been through some very traumatic events, and you’re offering to take care of an infant child as a single parent. It’s not unreasonable to fear you may get overwhelmed-”

Another one of those small coughs, and the wizard jerks his head around. “Dolores, is there anything you’d like to add, or can I perhaps get you something for your throat?”

The toad-like witch doesn’t hesitate to take over the conversation, her iron-grey eyes boring into Sirius’ empty grey ones.

“You’re known to have close associations with a Lycanthrope.” She speaks in a high-pitched voice that makes an oddly terrifying contrast with the cruelty in her eyes.

“I used to have,” Sirius replies.

She raises her eyebrows. “Not anymore?”

“Not anymore.”

“So there won’t be a dangerous dark creature hovering around the small child?”

“There won’t.”

“And where is the werewolf now, then?”

“I don’t know.”

“How do you not-”

“Mr Black,” the wizard interrupts the toad-like witch. “Perhaps you can save us time by just telling Ms Umbridge what your current relationship to R.J. Lupin is?”

Sirius drinks the rest of his water, which he knows to be heavily spiked with Veritaserum, before answering. “There is none. He left, and I don’t think I’ll ever see him again.”

#my tumblr writing #wolfstar angst #sad wolfstar #wolfstar #wolfstar fanfiction #wolfstar fic #marauders #marauders fanfiction #marauders fic #sirius black #remus lupin #remus x sirius #first wizarding war #hurt sirius black #sirius black does not go to azkaban #hurt remus lupin

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bookishable · 4 years

Text

some harry potter opinions

speaking as a ravenclaw, slytherin is my favourite house because they have some of the most human qualities of the four, as well as the best aesthetic

dumbledore is not a bad person

all his backstory is so interesting and i really like the way his character develops across the series as harry/the reader grows to see him differently. but people in the fandom will reduce him to a terrible old man without bothering to think about the complexities of his character

sirius black is slightly overrated

goblet of fire is the worst film and adaptation in the series

malfoy and hermione aren’t compatible even if you disregard how badly he treated her

prisoner of azkaban is overrated. the film is very well made but badly adapted

deamus > wolfstar

luna lovegood is the best female character

dumbledore and percy weasley should have been in slytherin

books ranked from best to worst: deathly hallows, half blood prince, goblet of fire, philosopher’s stone, order of the phoenix, chamber of secrets, prisoner of azkaban. this opinion may change

philosopher’s stone is the most underrated film and i personally think it’s one of the best in the series. it’s also the one i have almost no problems with

kindness isn’t one of the main traits of hufflepuff because it’s a practice, not a personality trait. anyone can choose to be kind. better positive hufflepuff qualities are patience, fairness, loyalty and friendship

a lot of people over criticise elements of the narrative to the point where it’s less about critical thinking and more a case of finding things to be annoyed about. i personally am not affected by a lot of the issues raised so i can’t speak on those, but i do think people should stop holding a book series written in the 90s to the standards of society and literature in 2021

ron weasley is my favourite character so i always love seeing posts defending him/criticising the way the films portrayed him. however, a lot of people are prone to forgetting his mistakes in order to build him up; to me the reason he’s such a wonderful character is because of his flaws so more people should remember them

it’s very in character for harry to name his child after snape, even if i don’t like it that much

i find it a lot more convincing for dumbledore to see his family alive and happy in the mirror of erised, rather than grindelwald. i think it fits in so much better with what he says in the cave in half blood prince

harry wouldn’t have been happy as a hogwarts professor. he needs to be where the action is, and he’s not an academic

luna and charlie are asexual and i do not take criticism

as a stickler for canon, it’s rare for me to find headcanons that i like because a lot of the time they seem to be very over the top ways to add diversity (which is valid because there isn’t much, i get that people want to add their own ideas). to me the best headcanons are the ones that support other areas of the narrative and sit comfortably within the story, as well as things that could have been true but didn’t need mentioning e.g. the headcanon that harry has adhd fits in with a lot of his behaviour and hobbies, but it’s also something that didn’t need to be explicitly written

i don’t care that dumbledore didn’t say it calmly

the weasleys all being in gryffindor is one of the main reasons the sorting system is flawed. although it makes sense narratively (they all have similar values and would probably choose to be in gryffindor) it would have been way cooler for them all to be in different houses

i personally think arthur and bill would be in ravenclaw, molly in hufflepuff, percy and the twins in slytherin, and charlie, ginny and ron in gryffindor. another concept™ would be fred and george in different houses because imagine the shit that would go down

shipping hermione and malfoy is basically the same as shipping her with crabbe or goyle but because they weren’t played by conventionally attractive actors those ships aren’t popular

also what is the obsession with shipping hermione with every single character

the best house pairing is slytherin and hufflepuff

the golden trio belong in gryffindor because they use the traits they have from the other houses in order to be brave (harry has a strong survival instinct, ron’s loyalty helps him defend others, and hermione uses her intelligence to find solutions to dangerous situations they find themselves in)

luna embodies ravenclaw house more than any other character

voldemort’s death in the film was actually quite cool but i still do not forgive them for undermining the entire point of his character by not having him die like a regular man

the golden trio all chose to be in gryffindor

i’m glad the deleted scene of draco malfoy throwing harry his wand wasn’t included. i think it’s out of character because malfoy wasn’t heroic

snape loved lily, but he did so selfishly because he only cared about being with her and not about the lives of the people she loved

i like remus and tonks together

hagrid is underrated

harry and hermione’s dance scene is nice but it would have been better placed in literally any other part of any of the films. i don’t think it has to be read with romantic undertones, however the fact that at the same time in the book both harry and hermione were feeling too depressed to even bother cheering each other up was a really important way of showing how ron was the glue that brought the trio together. also they cut out ron and hermione’s dance scene and still had time to do this

one of the most underrated quotes is “we’re all human, aren’t we? every human life is worth the same, and worth saving” as said by the elite sir kingsley shacklebolt sir

in comparison to the rest of deathly hallows the epilogue wasn’t very well written, but it was the right ending the book needed

lupin was a better professor than mcgonagall

draco malfoy actually did have a choice, even if it was a difficult one

#updated version of my old post with some new and better written points #hp #hp textpost #harry potter books #harry potter opinions #harry potter series

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champagne-bucky · 4 years

Text

The Princess & the Stable Boy

Summary: Steve loves you. You don’t. He has a way of changing that. With a little help from Loki, anything is possible.

Warnings: Royal AU, dark!Steve x Reader, loss of virginity, somnophilia, non-con smut

Notes: haaaaaa.... okay so I’m VERY late to this challenge, but I still wanted to do it because I already had my idea ready. This challenge was by @the-soulofdevil and I chose to do Steve and a Royal AU. I hope I did it justice and I’m so so sooooo sorry @the-soulofdevil for taking extremely long. I really hope you enjoy it!!!

“So this is love, mmmhmm, so this is love…”

Steve watched quietly from a stall he was tending to as you sang. You had such a beautiful voice and Steve loved hearing anything that came out of your mouth. He remembers the first day your father brought you here, so young, ambitious, and had a heart for animals.

You had begged your father for months to teach you how to ride a horse. You admired how graceful and elegant they looked while trotting around in the open fields. Plus, your father and his men always rode those majestic beings and you couldn’t help but envy how they always got to do the fun things you couldn’t.

Which brings Steve to today. It had taken years and years of practice, but you finally managed how to properly ride and groom a horse. Steve had trained you himself, much like his father did him. Over time, he got lost in the sweet smell of your perfume and your soft to the touch skin. Steve had been completely enamored by you from the first day he met you. The only problem was you didn’t notice him.

Well, you did, obviously because he had taught you how to properly ride. You just didn’t notice him the way that he noticed you. Steve was just a servant to you and nothing more. You didn’t treat him badly, but you regarded him more as a teacher than a friend.

“What’s got you all happy?” You jumped back and Steve snuck around behind you. He always had a habit of sneaking up on people.

“Oh nothing, father just told me that he’s planning on throwing another ball, that’s all,” Steve bit back his anger.

Your father had been throwing parties every so often to get you to meet somebody. It bothered Steve that your father was trying so hard to get you to find someone. He was so eager to marry you off but knew that he couldn’t arrange a marriage for you.

Long ago, your ancestors had made it a rule that no younger child should be married off unless if was with a spouse of their choice. Seeing as you had an older sister that was married off, and happily at that, your father was not allowed to intervene.

Steve thought that this rule was pretty great, for him. On the other hand, you had expressed your disinterest in Steve from the moment you found out he liked you.

You weren’t stupid, you knew Steve had liked you for quite some time, but he wasn’t taking any hints. Every time he made an advance, you would push him away. He seemed to respect that, but who knows for how long.

“So, uh, I guess I’ll be going. I’ll be meeting you in a few days, yes?” Steve nodded as he excused your departure.

“Poor boy,” Steve jumped back, “stupid, stupid, boy,” Steve huffed as the groundskeeper, Loki, came out of the shadows.

“Can I help you?” Steve was in no mood to talk to the snarky groundskeeper.

“No, but I can help you,” Steve looked at the diabolical man confused.

“The princess, you seek her, yes?” Steve replied a quiet ‘yes’.

“I can help you get what you want.”

“Oh, really? I find that too good to be true,” Steve scoffed at the man.

“If it’s the girl’s heart you want, then go after it,” Loki walked around the stable boy.

“What do you mean? I can’t go to the ball, I wasn’t invited,” Loki chuckled.

“No, no you weren’t, but I can sneak you in,” Steve was listening now.

“Clean yourself up and meet me at the west wing of the castle by the old garden. Come alone and do not tell anyone where you are going,” before Steve could muster a response Loki stalked off.

Steve managed to bathe and find some of the nicest clothes that he owned. He moved fast and silently so that no guards would be able to see him lurking by the castle at this hour. Only the royal family, royal visitors, and castle servants were allowed in.

“You’re late,” Loki replied as he emerged from a dark corner of the gardens.

“I’m sorry, but it’s not exactly like you gave me a time limit to go off of,” Steve rolled his eyes.

“Now how am I getting in?” Loki looked him up and down with a look of disgust.

“Oh, you’re not going in that travesty are you?” Steve huffed at Loki’s rude tone.

“Look, this is the nicest stuff that I own. God, I knew I was wasting my time listening to you,” Steve lost all hope of getting into the ball and wooing you. He began to turn around and head home, but not until Loki stopped him. Steve turned around as the disappointed look on his face transformed into a look of curiosity.

Loki’s outfit hand changed from simple rags into a sleek black pants suit with a flattering cloak. In this cloak, he dipped his pale hand in and brought out a matching sleek black wand. He waved it around a few times until it lit up an immaculate green color. Steve scrunched his brows together in confusion.

“Now that I’m out of my horrid outfit, let’s work on yours,” Loki lifted his wand and started to aim it at Steve.

“What the- you’re crazy. I’m getting out of here,” Steve tried to run as the green glow chased him through the old garden. He was no match for the fast ball of light, as it captured him and wrapped him up.

The green light soon faded and it left in its place an outfit fit for the king himself. A fine tailored suit made of the finest of materials. Golden buttons had lined the front and his rough, calloused hands were covered with soft, white gloves. He looked like a prince.

“You have until dawn to make that girl yours. Don’t screw it up,” Loki tucked his wand back into his cloak and began to stalk off.

Steve looked down again at his magnificent suit. All this for him? There has to be some sort of payment for this right? Everyone knows that magic has a price.

“Why do you want to help me so bad?” Steve yelled before Loki walked away.

“What can I say, I’m a sucker for a happy ending,” and Loki disappeared into the night.

Before Steve could ask anything else Loki was gone. It was now up to him to find the girl of his dreams and make her his before dawn.

It was ridiculously easy to sneak into this ball. Thanks to Steve’s new look, the knights guarding the doors didn’t take a second glance at the stable boy turned imposter prince. He walked right into the dance hall and began to search high and low for you. It didn’t take too long.

There you were, sitting on a throne right next to your father as you watched the guests dance and drink the night away. You couldn’t have been more bored if it weren’t for the music picking up its pace every so often. A bunch of eligible suitors (no doubt hand picked by your father) had come up to you to ask for a dance, but you politely sent everyone one of them away. You really didn’t have this much interest in the glamorous side of things that came with being a royal. No, you craved simplicity and even normalcy. Just once it would be nice to not be called ‘princess’ or ‘king’s daughter’.

Having enough of the ball, you tried to slink your way out of the room, but not before a gloved hand caught the sleeve of your dress.

“Princess, may I have this dance?” You looked at the suitor and immediately recognized who it was. How did he get in here?

“Steve?” You were in disbelief. If anyone were to have found out that he snuck in he would be thrown in with the rest if the prisoners.

“I’ve been searching for you all night, my lady. Please do me the honor of just one dance.”

Part of you wanted to run away and call the guards. It was bad enough that Steve was down your neck constantly when you both went riding, now it’s gone too far. However, if you made a scene your father would surely take the matters into his own hands. He loved his children and would kill for them if the moment called for it. God, you didn’t want to be responsible for Steve’s murder, all he was looking to do was have one dance with you.

“Okay fine, but only one dance then you have to leave before my father sees you here,” you grabbed his hand and made sure to stay out of your father’s line of sight.

One dance turned into two, then two turned into five. It was safe to say that you actually did enjoy your small time with Steve. He was light on his feet and swayed through the ballroom like he’s done this a million times before.

The night was wearing thin as people began to leave. Your father would come looking for you as soon as he notices you’re nowhere in the ballroom to be found. You and Steve had danced your way out of the castle and onto the large balcony.

“I have to go now, Steve,” you murmured into his broad shoulder.

“You said that many dances ago,” he smiled as he held you closer. Finally, he was getting what he wanted.

“I mean it now,” you pulled away, “my father will be looking for me,” Steve frowned as you started to pull away.

“I’ll let you go, but just one more thing,” it was now or never.

You gasped as you dodged Steve’s kiss out of the way. He didn’t think that this was building up to something was it? You were just trying to appease him so you wouldn't have needed to make a scene earlier.

“Steve, I’m sorry. I don’t want you to get the wrong idea. I was just being friendly to you that’s all,” Steve’s face looked as if it had lost all hope.

His true love, his one true love, didn’t reciprocate.

“I did all of this for you! What are you trying to say? After all I did for you you can’t show me some respect!” Steve started to get angry, you didn’t like it.

“Steve, I’m sorry,” before he could do anything worse, you took off in a sprint.

Steve tried to run after you. He almost caught you, but you were smart and started yelling for the guards. He knew something terrible would happen to him if he stayed any longer, so he began to flee.

He heard the heavy footfalls of guards running to check on you. Your guilty conscience prohibited you from saying anything about Steve and his advances. Instead, you made up a lie to them saying that you felt pains in your stomach and needed to be carried back to your room.

Steve ran back the way that he came in. No guards were in sight as it seemed they were either rushing to your aid or getting your family to alert them on what had happened. He was dead, he thought. You were going to see to it that he’d be murdered before dawn.

He thought the plan was full proof, he thought it was going to work. That would fall for him and get married and live happily ever after, but no. Happy endings didn’t happen by the grace of God. No, Steve needed to take matters into his own hands.

Red in the face and out of breath, Steve approached the tiny village of where he and the other servants slept. Quietly, he made his way to the small hut where Loki lived. He would be asleep by now anyways.

He sauntered in without a peep and began to look around. He needs to find that wand.

It took a lot of stealth and breath holding, but Steve managed to achieve his goal. He found the wand placed securely under the floorboards after an uneven floorboard gave it away. Loki should’ve hidden it better if he wanted to keep his secret life still secret.

The night was still and there was not a soul in sight. Steve had managed to get back to the old garden undetected and slip past some guards. He was still in his suit and gloves, so it made it look as if he was just another royal staying the night.

He didn’t know where your room was per se, but after badgering a few maids that were still up and about they pointed him in the right direction. How was he going to manage to persuade the guards outside your door to let him in? Well, he wasn’t. There was no way in hell they would let anyone disturb the princess’s sleep. Steve has to act fast.

Steve found another room that seemed vacant. The doors were unlocked and they led out onto a small balcony. If he were just really careful, he could slink his way to your room. God, he hopes he doesn’t fall.

Steve got to your balcony and pushed open the doors. Steve patted himself on the back for the great success. There were no locks on them as who would ever think to put a lock on doors so high up in a castle.

He took a deep breath and walked over to you. There you were, in a peaceful sleep, desperate to probably forget about the tragedy that took place a few hours prior. Steve walked closed to you and bent down. His breath fanning your face as he brushed his hands through some stay locks of hair. Your breathing became lighter and your movements grew frequent. You were waking up, but Steve didn’t care, he had a plan in motion.

Your eyes fluttered open as your sleep was disturbed. It took you a minute to decipher the blurry figure in front of you. Steve? Your heart rate increased as you tried to sit up and scream. Before you could he covered your mouth and pushed you back down into the plush blankets.

“Shh, my lady, it’s okay. I’ll make this all go away, you’ll see,” you began to cry as Steve pulled Loki’s wand out from the inside of his coat.

You eyed the wand in fear, what were his plans? He held you down with one hand, but you were still flailing about. He tsked at you a few times before he tapped the wand. It started to glow a haunting hue and you cried out more.

“Rest easy, princess, it’ll all be over soon,” Steve waved the wand in front of your face a few times and you felt your eyes getting heavy with sleep. Steve removed his hand from your mouth and you began to whimper and beg.

“Please, Steve, no,” were your last words before you went to sleep.

This was it. Showtime. Steve was finally alone with you, something he had been dreaming about since the first day he fell in love with you.

“What to do, what to do,” Steve took the sheets off of your body and admired your figure. A simple nightgown, so sheer because of the climate, but so revealing.

He admired the outlines of your breasts, your nipples peeking out. The way the gown rode up a bit so it was at the top of your thighs. Your arms bare and hair all over the pillow. Immaculate.

Steve felt himself straining against his suit pants as he tried to palm himself to relieve some of the pressure. He finally got what he wanted.

He leaned in and got his kiss first. Your lips are so sweet and soft, he could do this all day. Then he began to touch you with his big hands. Steve touched your hair, your cheeks, traced your lips, brought down the straps around your shoulders. He kissed both shoulders and began to slide the gown down.

Your breasts were more than perfect. So soft and supple that he had to put his mouth around one while his fingers played with the other. They got hard within a matter of seconds. Steve wished you were awake so that he could hear your sweet sounds. This was everything he imagined it could be.

He kissed down your valley and took the gown with him. He made his way to your belly button and kissed above it. Maybe next time he does this that part will be swollen with his child. The thought of that made him get harder. It was getting hot in that little room, Steve began to rid himself of his clothes before he got any further.

Now he was naked in the pale moonlight with you under him, just a pesky piece of fabric in the way. He yanked it completely off out of impatience. He didn’t know how long this moment would last so he needed to make quick work of it.

You looked even more beautiful than you did with clothing on. Steve moaned at the sight of your body. He moaned at the sight of you all bare and compliant to him.

“Oh honey, I wish you could see us right now,” he leaned down and spread your legs apart. You were dry, but Steve was going to take care of that.

He used his skillful tongue and fingers to open you up and get you ready. He kept checking to make sure you weren’t waking up, but it looked like it wouldn't be anytime soon. However, he had to be fast just in case someone came in.

Once he was sure you were wet enough, Steve gave himself a few pumps to his cock and guided himself in. It was so warm, so wet, so tight, it felt like heaven. He pushed himself in more and more, but had to stop short. A little barrier was in his way.

“You saved this for me didn’t you, my lady,” Steve smirked and pushed through breaking the symbol of innocence.

He thrusted in at a slightly fast pace. Steve had been deprived and this is just what he needed. He wishes you were awake. Steve could just imagine those lewd moans coming from your mouth, just begging you to move faster.

“Don’t worry, honey, next time I’ll make sure you cum, but right now we gotta take care of me,” Steve bit his lip from crying out.

He grabbed your hips he hovered over you. Smashing his face into your breasts he went faster and faster until he couldn’t take it anymore. Steve came deep inside of you, no doubt that he might’ve given you a child, but he knew how to take care of that later.

Steve removed himself from you as he watched his cum drip out of your tight little hole, some blood mixed in it as well. He quickly got dressed and put the nightgown back on you as well as the sheets. He had much to prepare for in the coming days.

The king has been outraged lately. Rumors have been spreading around the village as to why. Only Steve knew the cause of the outrage, but never spoke about it.

He hadn’t seen you again since that night. He imagines that the maids had found the blood on your sheets and began to ask questions. Come to think of it, no one has seen you outside of the castle since the night of the ball. Steve guessed that he was out of the clear since no one had come to collect him for the crime he committed.

A crime of passion, Steve would think to himself.

Loki had not mentioned anything to him about the wand either. Steve made sure to place it back where it came from when he ran back home after that night. Loki didn’t even press him for details about the ball. Just a simple “how was it?” and that was the end of that topic.

Days had gone by and then weeks without seeing you. Usually if you couldn’t attend riding lessons someone would’ve reached out to Steve to let him know, but there was no word from anyone. Around this time is when Loki decided to act suspicious.

“The princess seemed to have stopped her lessons,” he nonchalantly said to Steve.

“Maybe she’s just sick and no one thought to tell us. I’m sure the princess will return soon,” Steve tried to end the conversation.

“I heard they’re on a manhunt looking for the coward that took her virtue,” Steve faltered, but kept his composure.

“Rumors are rumors, Loki. Don’t believe everything you hear,” Steve was starting to sweat.

“I heard from one of the chambermaids that when she finally woke, there was blood on the sheets. The physician examined her and found that she had been taken. She won’t give up any names, so her father is combing through all the guards and servants,” Loki knows, Steve thought.

“Has anyone come forward?”

“Not that we know of. Everyone is too afraid of what the king might do,” Steve shuddered.

“It happened the night of the ball. The princess was dancing with a man before she had to go. It must’ve been a guest from the party,” Loki kept on talking as Steve tugged his collar.

“Poor soul, if he just were to come forward he can accept his fate a lot faster,” Loki turned to Steve.

“The king is offering a reward you know? Anyone who knows any information will be given a healthy sum of money for compliance. You know what I would do if I had that money, Steve,” Steve shook his head.

“I could make the punishment a lot less worse for you,” he knew.

“H-How did-”

“Oh I’m not an idiot. I heard you that night poking around. You’re not exactly a light foot are you?”

“Are you going to turn me in?” That was it, no more true love.

“I have a proposition for you. I turn you in and I change the king's mind,” Steve was confused.

“What?”

“I turn you in, I get my reward money, before the king has your head on a plate I wave my wand and the girl is yours forever,” Loki’s eyes darkened.

“Why would you help me?”

“For years I’ve been stuck here. I helped the royal advisor out more times than I could count. I was always promised a promotion, a chance to get out of this village, but no. I’ve been screwed over more times than I could count. I want my revenge. I want my happy ending,” Loki looked almost vicious.

“And in return, I get my princess?” Loki responded with a ‘yes’.

“You get your princess and you’ll be prince. I get to move on up the ranks with you. Then it’s king and queen for the both of you. I help you and you help me.”

“And if I don’t want to come forward against my own will?”

“Then I’m sure the king will love to add a severed head to his mantle,” Steve gulped.

“So, what do you say?” Loki stared him down with his darkening eyes.

“Okay, I’ll do it.”

“My lady, the king has called for you,” you arose from your chair and made your way down to the throne room.

It had been nearly a month since the incident had occurred. You think you know who’s responsible, but you have no proof besides the blood on your sheets. Steve must’ve done something to you, or maybe it was a guard? The night was all fuzzy, but you remembered Steve being there at one point, trying to kiss you during the ball.

“Daughter, please stand by me,” you entered the room and saw the man you feared the most, and next to him was the groundskeeper, Loki.

“Yes, father,” your father grabbed your hand and walked you towards Steve.

“Daughter, why didn’t you tell me you were involved with Sir Steven,” you were confused. The two of you were never involved.

“Father I-”

“We explained everything to him, my lady. There’s no need to keep secrets,” Steve grabbed your hands and gave you a looked that dared you to challenge him.

“While I am glad of your impending union, I do express my disappointment. Ladies are supposed to keep their virtue until the wedding night,” this couldn’t be happening could it?

“I understand, your royal highness, but life had a way of getting in the middle,” Steve had pressed his front against your back now.

Your father chuckled, “You don’t need to explain anything to me, son. I’m glad we all could work this out. Y/N, I’ll send over the bishop to go over the union. We need to marry you two as soon as possible!”

Your father walked away with Loki by his side. You tried to break away from Steve’s grip, but he held you in tight. He kissed your cheek as tears started to fall.

“Why are you doing this?”

“Because, my lady, we were always meant to be together. You just had yet to see,” he put a hand over your abdomen.

“I can’t wait till our wedding night, can’t you? Can’t wait for you to see what you’ve missed out on,” Steve kissed your cheek again as you cried out.

So this is love, mmmhmmm.

#Steve Rogers #steve rogers fic #steve rogers smut #Dark Fic #dark marvel #dark steve rogers #dark steve x reader #dark Steve rogers fic #dark captain america #dark!Avengers #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x y/n #dark!steve rogers

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milkywaygg · 2 years

Text

Lost Child (Chapter 1)-FOP

Once again, Darren found himself walking alongside the cold sidewalk of downtown Fairy World, kicking one of the stray rocks that was in his way as he made his way back to his father’s apartment, in no rush to get there anytime soon. He groaned, not sure what he expected differently. Goddamnit, that’s the 3rd rejection this week. What the hell do you have to have 3 years’ experience for as a office assistant? How hard was it to follow directions?

Ever since he had been released from prison, Darren had been vigorously swimming the web, in hopes for a new job to support himself while staying under Linnie’s roof. For the past couple of months, it had been automated rejection after rejection, with a little over half his applications not even bothering to get a response. Every now and then however, Darren would get invited to interview at a fast food joint, or a small business, only for them to turn him away upon seeing his criminal history. He just didn’t get it. He wasn’t a violent man by any means, and it wasn’t like he committed a robbery. He had a Bachelor’s in Economics, and knew he was a somewhat fast learner. There was no reason he should be leaguing out even the simplest of jobs.

Clutching his briefcase in his right hand and his wand in his left, Darren continued down the street until he heard a loud crying sound coming from the side. Jumping slightly, he looked around to find the source for a few minutes, before shrugging it off and continuing on his trip. Before he reached the end of the block however, the crying got louder and seemed almost as if it were begging for attention.

“Who’s there? Who’s following me? I ain’t got any money!”, Darren yelled defensively, as the crying continuing, Darren finally recognizing it as a small child’s cry. Retracing his steps, he located the source of the crying before reaching an alleyway. Just between the shade and sun, Darren looked to see a small girl that looked to be about 5 or 6,000, with aqua colored, straight but oily hair, a somewhat large nose, and green, blood-stained eyes, looking up at him, crying.

“Uh…Hey kid.”, Darren started, unsure of what to do. He wasn’t comfortable just running up to random children and cuddling them like his father Linnie was, but Darren couldn’t say he didn’t feel bad. Alongside her mangled hair, Darren also noticed that the child’s ribs were showing and her body was shivering constantly, with nothing but a raggy, pink dress to cover her body.

“Kid, where are your folks? Why are you out here by yourself? This ain’t a good part of town.”, Darren said, kneeling down and trying hard not to startle her, “Do you have a name?”

“Julie mister.”, the little girl said softly, “But my mommy and daddy call me kid.”

“Yeah, speaking of. Where are your mom and dad?”

“I don’t know. They just told me to stay here and wait for them to get back, but they never came back! What if something happened?”

“Uhh…”, Darren stammered, his usually confident attitude fading away by the second, unsure of what to do with his child, “Why did your parents leave you here? Why weren’t you waiting at home?”

“I don’t know! They just said to stay here!”, Julie cried, fresh tears falling from her cheeks. Watching the child cry, Daren frowned, reminded of all the times his little sister, Chelsea, cried at the hands of Nora, with her taking almost as many hits from her as Darren had growing up. If Linnie wasn’t around, Chelsea would often run towards him after a long, violent talk and hide behind him, shaking as if she were in the middle of an earthquake.

Looking around to make sure no one was around, Darren shot a quick text on his phone before putting it up, facing the child once again.

“Well look kid, you can’t stay here. It’s not a safe neighbohood, and it’s way too cold outside. How about it.”, Darren started, “Come with me and I’ll take you somewhere safe. There’s actually someone I want you to meet, and I think he’ll be more than happy to help you out, but you gotta trust me, ok?”

“But what about my mommy and daddy?”

“We’ll look for them and we’ll let them know you’re over here so they can come get you. The guy I’m living with just wants you to be somewhere warm.”, Darren said, reaching his hand out. Julie jumped back suddenly, making Darren flinch for a moment, unsure of her strange behavior, before hugging herself, not sure of whether or not to follow Darren.

“I don’t know. I’m not supposed to be talking to strangers.”

“Well what other choice do you have?”, Darren snapped, getting annoyed at Julie’s skepticism, before she started crying once more, making Darren feel guilty once more. Rolling his eyes, Darren got his phone back out and called Linnie, telling him to meet him in the alleyway. A few moments after he put his phone away, there was a poof next to Darren, revealing Linnie is his green trenchcoat, wearing a worried expression on his face.

“Darren, where is this poor dear? Is she ok?”, Linnie asked, as Darren pointed towards Julie, who shrunk back even further, the tears still falling freely from her face. Smiling gently, Linnie knelt down slightly and opened his arms warmly, with as much compassion in his eyes as he could give.

“Hi there, sweetheart. My name’s Linnie. What’s your name?”, Linnie squeaked, trying to not spook the child.

“Julie. I-I want my mommy and daddy!”, Julie cried, Linnie’s heart breaking for her.

“Aww honey, I’m sorry you’ve lost your mommy and daddy, but you know what? I’m sure they miss you too very much! I’m sure they’ll find you very soon.”, Linnie said, “How long have you been out here by yourself, sweetheart? Do you like macaroni and cheese?”

Julie sniffed, before nodding softly, barely able to keep her eyes on Linnie. Linnie frowned as he got a close look at Julie, noticing some light bruises on her arms and legs, and noticing the dirty rag dress she was wearing.

“You don’t remember when you mommy and daddy left?”, Linnie asked. Julie shook her head. “Well dear, why don’t we head to my place and I can make you some macaroni and cheese for you to try? I’ve also got some blankets to help you keep warm, and we can see if we can get a hold of you mommy and daddy while you stay with us! How about it?”

“I-I don’t know. You might hurt me.”

“Sweetheart, I promise I won’t hurt you. Please, I just want to help you. Here, how about this. Let’s stop by my place for a little while so I can take care of you, and then we can go to the police and see about your parents.”, Linnie said gently, reaching his arms out, “Please, I don’t think it’s safe to stay out here all by yourself.”

Julie continued to shake and shiver in the cold as her eyes scanned and questioned Linnie, before eventually coming out and holding Linnie’s hand. Linnie smiled and took off his coat, wrapping Julie into it before picking her up, wrapping his arms around her. He and Darren then took her towards the tall, pink building a few blocks down, headed up towards apartment No.701, and placing Julie gently down on the coach as she studied her surroundings, taking in the warmth and comfort that surrounded her.

“Julie honey, it’s getting dark right now, so I think we should go to the police in the morning just so there’s less big, bad, mean people outside, and we can take care of you. In the meantime, I’ll make you something to eat and get you some PJs to wear, ok dear?”

“Ok.”, Julie said quietly, earning a sad smile from Linnie. Noticing her fear, Darren got up from the coach and headed towards the kitchen to talk to Linnie, who was pouring milk inside a pot of noodles and melted cheese.

“Heh, kinda hope this kid doesn’t think we’re kidnapping her or anything.”, Darren joked slightly, before noticing his somewhat worried look.

“Darren, this isn’t funny. I’m so worried about the poor darling. She looks like she hasn’t had a good meal in goodness knows how long, and…”, Linnie stuttered, “Don’t say anything to her, but I’m wondering if she was abandoned.”

“You think so? Why are we bothering with the police then?”

“Mostly for her piece of mind, but also just to be on the safe side.”, Linnie said, putting the food in the bowl, “By any chance Darren, did you happen to see her arms and legs? I saw a bunch of marks on it, so I’m wondering….oh dear me.”

“You don’t think she ran away, do you?”, Darren asked, “Maybe she’s getting hit at home and left?”

“I don’t know dear. I don’t think we have enough evidence yet. You know, I think a doctor’s visit might be due as well, just to make sure the poor dear is alright. I’m not sure, but I think we just need to be sure not to scare the poor dear.”, Linnie sighed, “Julie honey? I’ve got some food ready for you! Julie?”

Linnie didn’t get a response right away. Frowning, he put the bowl down before walking towards the couch, screaming as he saw Julie passed out, white as a ghost, and barely breathing.

#fairly oddparents #cosma family #fanfic

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yatorihell · 3 years

Text

In The Darkness Chapter 82 - Silence

Noragami x Harry Potter AU

Words: 8,000

Summary: For the Ratchat, who witnessed this very first HP AU scene being written, and made it my legacy.

Also available on Yatorihell AO3

The Snatchers hadn’t been sure if he was Yato, but the spell Hiyori had used proved useless as they were still being led to the Sorcerer.

Their hands had been bound and wands taken before they Disapparated into a small country lane in the middle of nowhere. Dusk cloaked them as the Snatchers pushed and shoved them into up a lane no bigger than an alley.

Yato could barely see, his face swollen and puffy from the jinx Hiyori had blasted him with, but he had heard Kazuma had also been Snatched. He heard Yukine cursing him briefly before being ordered to shut up. Their bags had been searched and taken. One of the Snatchers – a man who seemed to be stuck halfway between human and werewolf – carried the Sword of Gryffindor, using it every now and then to prod them along like cattle.

They trudged silently before being brought to a halt. Lamplight illuminated a hazy image of black and grey ahead of him, and Yato pried his eyes open. Black, wrought iron gates in the shapes of serpents latticed together stood before them, dark and tall and imposing before them.

Yato felt his heart stop. He knew those gates; they were once his prison bars.

The creak of metal sounded in their ears and the gates melted away, the snakes slithering away into the stone arches to allow the Snatchers to push their prisoners up the gravelled path. A looming shape appeared up ahead, but Yato didn’t have to squint to know what it was. A stately home – a castle, really – lay cloaked in darkness, save for the few lamps that shone on the porchway to shine down on visitors. The windows were dark with inactivity, but inside he knew there would be life and death.

The lead Snatcher banged three times on the black door, ignoring the serpent knocker. After a few moments light spilled over them, cutting through the darkness and burning Yato’s sore eyes.

“What’s this?” A gruff voice said.

“We’ve come to see the Dark Lord,” the Snatcher rasped. “We have Yato.”

A hand gripped Yato by the scalp, pulling his head back to present him to a blurred figure surrounded by the gleaming light of the manor.

“Doesn’t look like him,” the voice said. The blurred shape of a head moved to peer around Yato. “But I know those two – friends of his. Bring them in.”

It took Yato a moment to recognise the owner of the voice; he hadn’t heard it since they killed Professor Tenjin. Kugaha.

What was he doing at Father’s house? Yato thought briefly. A shove propelled him forward, stumbling through the threshold followed by Hiyori, Yukine, Kazuma, and the rest of the Snatchers.

Kugaha led them the way through the mansion, white marble gleaming on every surface. Chandeliers hung from the ceiling every few meters, dazzling his eyes painfully under the swelling. The hallway blurred from dark to light as they passed, but even without his full sight, Yato knew the walls were lined with portraits of great witches and wizards.

They passed what Yato remembered to be the drawing-room where Father took guests late at night. The fireplace was barely a flicker, but numerous lamps and candles had been lit on the mantlepiece, enshrining the portrait above it of Salazar Slytherin.

“If this is Yato, his sister will know,” Kugaha said to no one in particular, not bothering to turn his head.

Yato felt his heart twist in his chest. They were led into a vast room that Yato recognised as the main parlour, though it was more the size of a ballroom. The chandelier seemed to not have been lit in years, hanging on an iron chain above the center of the room. The fireplace was roaring, licking at bits of wood that servants – or slaves – fed into the flames. Beside it stood a girl dressed in white.

She turned at the sound of footsteps marching into the room, echoing off the empty walls. Her eyes grazed Kugaha, then flickered to Yato’s deformed face. There was a moment's confusion, but it was swept away the instant she saw Hiyori and Yukine stood behind him.

“Nora, come here,” Kugaha ordered.

Nora made no move, her profile flickering in shadow and flame as she stared at Yato. She knew exactly who he was, and it terrified him.

Kugaha ripped Yato from the Snatcher’s grip and dragged him forward towards the firelight. “Is this your brother?”

Nora didn’t reply, and Kugaha pushed Yato forward in response. He avoided eye contact, and it seemed Nora was doing the same. She looked smaller, shrunken into herself as if parts of her had been chipped away since leaving Hogwarts.

“Well?” Kugaha pressed.

“I don’t know,” Nora murmured. She stole a glance at Yato, feigning interest, but looked away just as quickly.

“Look closely!” Kugaha urged. “If this is him, the Sorcerer, your father, will reward us beyond our dreams! If we call him and it’s not him…”

“If it’s not him, it’s not him,” the half-human called from behind. He had propped the sword on his shoulder, his other hand on Yukine. “Leave his ugly mug in the dungeon and question these two, since they’re meant to be his friends.”

“Is this his girlfriend, Nora?” Kugaha gestured for Hiyori to be brought forward. she stumbled to catch herself as she was hauled up beside Yato. “And that blond boy? Are these the ones?”

“I – they were friends…” Nora mumbled, perhaps hoping that the words would be lost, and they were when the doors on the other side of the room slammed open.

A woman’s voice pierced the air, sending their hearts beating even faster. Her robes billowed around her, hair loose from its usual style though the beads remained entwined in some strands. The darkness of the room only accentuated the paleness of the skin and the fire highlighted the mad glitter in her eyes as they fell on the prisoners.

“What’s all this about?” Oshi barked.

It may have been the swelling, but Yato swore he saw Kugaha puff his chest out in pride. “The traitors, my lady,” Kugaha replied.

Oshi circled Yato and Hiyori with wary eyes. Her gaze roamed Yato’s face, taking in the pink scarring and the swelling which was beginning to lessen around his eyes. She looked between the two, noticing Hiyori’s avoidance to meet her eye. Her gaze went over their heads to Kazuma, and then Yukine.

“Oh yes, this is definitely Yato,” Oshi smiled slowly and sweetly. “He has his Mudblood pets with him.”

“I told you it was him!” Kugaha hissed to no one in particular. Nora’s eyes slid away from Yato, guilty: a silent witness to their sentencing.

Oshi raised her sleeve, revealing the Dark Mark, indelible on her arm. Her fingers hovered above it for a second, to summon her master, before Kugaha caught her wrist.

“I will be the one to inform the Dark Lord,” Kugaha said smoothly. “They were found under my watch –.”

“Actually,” the half-human cut it, “We were the ones who found them, so we will be claiming the gold –.”

“Gold!” Oshi shrieked with a manic smile, shaking Kugaha’s grip from her arm. “Take your gold, you filthy mongrel. I seek only my…. Lord’s…”

Oshi’s eyes dropped from his fanged face to his hand. Kugaha took the chance to pull his sleeve up his arm, the Dark Mark scarred but irremovable on his arm as he moved to summon the Sorcerer.

“STOP!” Oshi screeched. “DO NOT SUMMON HIM!”

Kugaha froze and the room hung in silence.

Oshi brushed past Yato, a finger raised. “What is that?”

Yato risked turning his head to the side. Despite his clearing vision, it was hard to make out that Oshi was addressing the wolf-man who held the Sword of Gryffindor.

“A sword,” he grunted.

“Give it to me.”

“Finders Keepers.”

There was an immediate flash of red and a thump of flesh on marble. There was a roar from the other three Snatchers, releasing their captives and drawing their wands to face off Oshi.

“Are you mad, woman?” Kugaha roared, all pomp and circumstance gone.

They were never a match for her; she was a witch, mad and skilled and without conscience. They all fell where they stood, laying on the marble in various degrees of injuries.

Oshi bent and picked up the sword, the hilt glimmering in the firelight. She held it before her, examining the blade. A groaned cough came from her feet. The Snatcher who had held Kazuma wheezed and tried to roll onto his back, but Oshi placed her foot on his throat and pressed down.

“Where did you get this?”

Her voice was no more than a whisper that would’ve escaped them if the room hadn’t been so quiet. A rasp came from below, and her foot pressed tighter.

“Where?! This sword is meant to be in my vault!”

“In… the girl’s… bag…” the man wheezed.

Oshi snapped her foot to the side and a crack resounded in the room. When she moved away, dark robes willowing, they saw the man’s neck bent at an unnatural angle. Yato’s heart thrummed again as he realised Oshi was heading back towards him… but her eyes weren’t on him.

They were on Hiyori.

“What does it matter they stole the sword? We have it now,” Kugaha asked, but Oshi threw up a hand in disgust to silence him.

“Shut up, I need to think,” Oshi ordered. “The Dark Lord cannot know about this, he cannot know that anything was stolen from the vault.”

Her gaze fell on Hiyori again and Yato felt her arm flinch against his.

“If this is Yato, then he must not be harmed. The Dark Lord wishes to kill him himself… But if he finds out… I have to know….”

Oshi trailed off and turned to Kugaha. “Put them to the cellars with the other one.”

“The Dark Lord –,” Kugaha argued.

“DO IT! HE’LL KILL US ALL IF I DON’T FIX THIS!” Oshi screeched back. “DO IT NOW!”

Yato felt a chill roll over his body. His eyes weren’t as swollen now, and he could see the pure, unadulterated madness and fear in Oshi’s eyes. She clutched the sword in her fists in front of her, knuckles white.

Kugaha’s jaw clenched but he didn’t argue. Holding out his wand, he gestured for Yato and Hiyori to walk ahead of him and join Yukine and Kazuma by the pile of bodies.

“Wait.”

Yato and Hiyori froze. Kugaha raised a questioning eyebrow.

“Except… except for the Mudblood.”

Kugaha’s lips twitched into a smile. He caught Yato by the arm, pulling him away from Hiyori. Oshi had her wand trained on her, a malicious glint already forming in her eyes.

“NO!” Yato shouted, his mouth cooperating with him despite the tingling swell of his lips returning to normal size. “YOU CAN HAVE ME! KEEP ME!”

A blow struck Yato across the face, hard, and the word went muffled. Between Yukine’s shouts for Hiyori, he heard words murmured in his ear.

“Welcome home, Yaboku.”

The cell door slammed shut behind them and the lock clicked into place. Kugaha’s footsteps echoed and receded up the stairs until silence enveloped them.

Yato gripped the bars and shook them, but they held fast despite their aged rust. He swore under his breath, turning back to Yukine and Kazuma, eyes adjusting in the dark.

“We need to get out of here,” Yato said.

“What is this place? Why have they brought us here?” Kazuma asked, wringing his hands.

“This is Father’s house,” Yato said darkly.

The gravity of those words was lost on Kazuma, but Yukine knew exactly what that meant.

“Why are we here? Where is he?” Kazuma asked.

“Hell do I know,” Yato grumbled, running a hand through his hair. His mind raced with memories: The death of his parents he couldn’t even remember, the ‘recruitment’ for Father’s army that led to nothing. Meeting Nora. The endless days where they were giving punishment worse than death for defying Father. The dying screams of those who would not surrender. The feeling of losing himself to something much stronger; a connection forming between him and Father which could not be broken.

“Do you know a way out?” Yukine asked, but Yato shook his head.

He glanced around the room, familiar and cloying with dampness that clung to his clothes. One of these dungeons had been his home for a time when Father took him, and he had no intention of staying prisoner again. Not when he knew of what may be waiting around the corner.

A scuff came from somewhere in the darkness, and they froze.

Yato reached for his wand, but cursed when his fingers remembered it had been taken by one of the Snatchers. They waited with bated breath and strained ears as a figure emerged from the darkness, stepping into the slivers of light cast by the cell door.

“Kazuma?”

Bishamon – dirty, her hair matted at the ends and completely filthy, and alive – looked at them with wide, reproachful eyes.

“Bishamon!” Kazuma cried.

Kazuma surged forward and took Bishamon’s face in his hands, not noticing the way she flinched at the contact. From the look of her, it seemed she hadn’t eaten properly in weeks, and her skin was littered with cuts and fading bruises.

“What are you doing here?” Bishamon whispered, pulling herself away from Kazuma’s embrace. Her eyes finally slid away to the shadowy figures. From the look on her face, she knew exactly who it was despite the slight swelling.

“What is he doing here?!” Bishamon exclaimed.

“He sold us out!” Yukine spat, shoving a finger at Kazuma.

Bishamon looked aghast. “What?!”

“I’m sorry!” Kazuma begged, but Yato couldn’t meet his eye. His gaze fell on the slivers of light that shone down through the cell bars. Yukine folded his arms across his chest, eyes brimming with hate.

Kazuma whirled to Bishamon, eyes pleading. “I couldn’t take it. You’ve been gone for months, I didn’t know if you were dead! I had to get you back. What have they done to you…?”

Kazuma reached a hand to touch her face again, but Bishamon knocked his hand away aggressively.

“You should’ve known not to do this! How could you turn the only hope we have of killing the Sorcerer over?!” Bishamon exclaimed.

“I’m sorry!” Kazuma begged. “We can get out of this. It’s just a few of them-.”

Yato briskly crossed the room to the cell door. He wrapped his hands around the bars again, searching the perimeter for a weakness as he did so often as a child, a chink in the rock that could work the hinges free, but found nothing.

“There isn’t a way out,” Bishamon said softly. Months of captivity had taught her that much.

A beat of silence passed between them.

“Where’s Hiyori?”

Yato’s attention snapped back to Bishamon. The realisation that Hiyori wasn’t among them gave Bishamon a sudden chill of fear. Hiyori – her friend, her teammate, her disciple – was not with them. She looked between their faces, looking for grief, but Yukine jutted his head skywards.

Fear filled Bishamon’s eyes. “Why?”

“We have the Sword of Gryffindor. Apparently, it’s meant to be locked up in Oshi’s vault?” Yukine said.

Kazuma nodded. “At Gringotts. She sent it away after we tried to steal it, to keep it safe. How did you steal it?”

Yato recalled the high halls of Gringotts bank. He’d been there a few times, but he never had reason to open a vault with his pittance of money. He had nothing worth a dragon guarding. “We didn’t steal it, the sword appeared to me.”

There was another beat of silence.

“Let’s hope that Oshi believes that,” Bishamon answered.

Yato frowned. “Why wouldn’t she? Gringotts is impenetrable. No one can steal from it.”

No one could answer that question. Not because they didn’t know of Oshi’s madness, nor because they didn’t know of her ruthlessness.

The question went unanswered because of the screaming.

The screaming lasted what felt like hours but could have only been five or ten minutes. It was enough to drive Yato into a frenzy.

“HIYORI!” Yato bellowed up the staircase that descended to the cell, his knuckles white as he thrashed against the cell door. “HIYORI!”

Bishamon had begun to weep, snuffled breaths against Kazuma’s shoulder. Yukine cried silently, knowing it was useless to throw himself at the bars the way Yato did.

Eventually, an eternity after the screaming stopped, footsteps echoed above them and approached down the stone steps. Grey robes appeared, and Kugaha’s face appeared at the bars.

“You fucking bastard!” Yato spat. “What have you done to her?!”

Kugaha didn’t reply. He swiftly pulled his wand from the folds of his robes and hit Yato with a spell, sending him sprawling to the ground.

Yato’s head spun, barely aware of the sound of the cell door clicking and grating open. Kugaha raised his wand against the others, herding them backward until he stopped with Yato at his feet.

Kugaha dragged Yato to his feet by his collar, pinning one arm behind his back and pressing his wand to the side of his neck.

“There’s something we want you to see, Yaboku,” Kugaha said wickedly with a manic grin on his face. He roughly pushed Yato forward and up the stairs to the hall where they had been brought to hours ago. The cell door clicked behind them with a wordless spell.

The injured Snatchers stood around the edge of the room, Nora amongst them but half-hidden in the shadows. On the ground in the center of the hall, Oshi straddled something with her wand drawn.

“Oh look, there’s our Yaboku,” Oshi smiled sweetly, surveying his face now that the swelling was gone. “Welcome home.”

Kugaha shoved Yato to the ground before he could reply, his body hitting the cold, pristine marble with a crack. Looking sideways, he squinted past the stars that had formed in his vision, and his blood ran cold.

Hiyori lay unmoving beneath Oshi, a wand pressed painfully hard into her throat. Her watery eyes stared petrified at the ceiling, arms pinned down by the knees of the witch above her.

“Hiyori?” Yato whispered shakily.

Hiyori’s eyes darted to him, terror evident in her eyes as she saw he had been dragged into whatever they were about to do next. She moved her head slightly, her lips parted slightly to speak as fresh tears leaked from the corners of her eyes before she was silenced by a slap across the face. Hiyori’s sharp gasp was following by quiet sobs, shoulders shaking as she tried to contain them.

Yato hastily moved to push himself up, seething at the witch who had made him listen to Hiyori’s agonising screams, but Kugaha’s foot planted itself into his back, pinning him down. Oshi smirked at him before slowly leaning down to Hiyori, making her flinch and try to shrink away from whatever twisted idea she had in mind.

Her lips brushing against Hiyori’s jawline up to her ear as she relished in the scent of sweat and fear, whispering quietly into her ear.

“Oh, look. Your boyfriend is here. Want to give him a little kiss?”

Hiyori gave a small shuddering sob as Oshi abruptly sat back up, bursting into a happy laugh as if she had told a funny joke. Grinning, she tilted her head to Yato who still lay trapped on the ground, his teeth gritted as he stared daggers at her.

“Well, now that you’re here, Chosen One, we can begin,” said Oshi said sweetly, her malicious eyes boring into him.

“This is how it’s going to work. You tell me how you got into my vault, else your little girlfriend here,” Oshi pressed her wand harder into Hiyori’s neck, a trickle of blood seeping out of the puncture she created. “Won’t be your girlfriend for much longer.”

“You… bitch,” Yato said heavily, trying to move his head so he could face her, but a hand fisted in his hair, pinning him back down. “Let her go.”

“Tut tut, that isn’t how you speak to your masters,” Oshi said mockingly. “I’ll have to punish your little friend for that.”

Oshi moved swiftly and gripped Hiyori’s left arm, plunging the wand deep into her flesh.

Hiyori’s head turned immediately back to face the witch, allowing Yato to see her face. Her guttural scream echoed through the hall and reverberated through the manor. Her back arched in pain and her face contorted in agony as she heaved for breath.

“STOP IT!” Yato screamed, thrashing desperately as he tried to escape his captors. Another boot kicked him in his side, winding him. Unable to move or breathe, he continued to hear Hiyori’s screams.

Tears running down her face, she frantically tried to pull free as the wand carved into her, but was subdued by the point being pressed to her throat once again as she heaved through the pain.

“Do I make myself clear, Yato?” Oshi asked him. “If you don’t answer, she gets hurt. If you haven’t answered by the time I’m done, she dies. Now, how did you get into my vault?”

“Torture me instead!” Yato pleaded, “She doesn’t know anything!”

“Wrong answer.”

She drove her wand into Hiyori’s arm once again, carving. Hiyori screamed louder than before, voice on the edge of breaking.

Yato pleaded for it to stop, uselessly twisting himself around onto his back where a fist connected with his jaw. His right temple smacked back onto the floor, blurred eyes meeting the sight of Hiyori’s legs kicking wildly as she tried to throw her torturer off of her to no avail.

When it had stopped, her head fell to the ground and lulled to the side, empty eyes looking at the blood which streamed from the growing wound.

“Stop it,” Yato whispered. “Don’t hurt her.”

“THEN ANSWER THE QUESTION!” Oshi screamed. “HOW DID YOU GET INTO MY VAULT?! WHO TOOK YOU THERE?!”

Yato fell quiet, breath rasping as he looked at Hiyori. Her unfocused eyes were looking at him, but they looked lifeless. His throat hitched at how she looked exactly like Sakura when he killed her. He felt as if he was being crushed, not by the weight of Kugaha whose weight immobilised him, but by the realisation that he was slowly killing the person he loved.

Bishamon was right; no matter what the truth was, Oshi would not believe it. Hiyori’s screams when he was locked in the dungeon was proof of that.

“Magic,” Yato croaked, hoping that the change in answer would protect Hiyori from further harm. “We used magic.”

“THAT’S ONLY HALF AN ANSWER,” Oshi screamed, losing patience with how long it was taking. “I’LL STOP WHEN YOU’VE TOLD ME EVERYTHING.”

Her hand squeezed on Hiyori’s arm, forcing more blood out and opening the wounds wider. She plunged the wand into the skin, again and again, dragging it harshly through the soft tissue as she carved her way down her arm.

Hiyori thrashed harder than before, the pain more intense as the witch branded Hiyori as what she was. She released strangled screams with every breath, her voice becoming weaker and more cracked as it went on, begging for it to end.

Yato fought weakly against Kugaha, his fists missing his target, and punches raining down on him as they asked the question again and again. Trying to push himself away, another pair of hands pinned his hands above his head to stop him from fighting or protecting himself. A great weight lay on his chest, stopping him from moving. Even if he could move, he would drag himself to Hiyori’s side and let himself die in her place.

Minutes passed and the screaming became weaker and weaker until there was silence. Hands going slack, Yato allowed himself to be beaten as his heart plummeted, oblivious to nothing but the silence. The punches slowed to a stop and a heavy silence hung in the air.

Twisting his head to look at Hiyori through blackened eyes, he could see her brown eyes staring blankly back at him but did not show any signs of their usual brightness. Slowly, they closed.

Dried and fresh tears stained her cheeks and starred her lashes, her mouth hanging open slightly as if still gasping for air. Blood trickled from the injury on her arm which had splattered blood white marble. The tarnishing streaks of blood from the brand engraved into her arm like ink on parchment read a word - a word he had come to hate.

One word that marked her as unworthy of the wizard life.

Mudblood.

Her name barely made it through his cracked lips at the first few attempts. Perhaps because he’s been beaten senseless, or perhaps because the mere sight of what he’d done to her.

“Hi... yori,” Yato said breathlessly, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth as he spoke her name.

Oshi stood up and smirked, kicking Hiyori’s body so she rolled over to face Yato. Wiping the blood off her wand, she walked away, happy at her handiwork. Hiyori lay still, her limp body turned towards him. Blood had slowly stopped seeping out of the wounds on her arm and neck.

“HIYORI!” Yato choked, wrenching a wrist out of his captor’s grasp and thrashing wildly. A wand was instantly pressed to his heart, but still, Yato fought to reach Hiyori’s side.

“Let him go,” A quiet, familiar voice sounded from the edge of the room, from whom he did not know.

Reluctantly, Kugaha pressed his knee harshly into Yato’s stomach as he pushed himself up, leaving him alone on the blood-splattered flagstones. He rolled himself onto his stomach, straining as he began to drag himself pitifully towards Hiyori, leaving bloody marks on the floor with each movement.

Reaching her side, his arm reached out shakily, pulling her broken frame into his protection. He gently touched her cheek, but she did not react.

“Hiyori! Wake up!” Yato whispered, voice thick with emotion and tears beginning to spill. “Hiyori! We can go home now… just like you wanted...”

Yato's eyes looked into her face, praying that there would be some sign of life, but she may as well have been dead in his arms. His fingers trembled as they slid up her face and into her hair, his other hand wrapping around her waist pulling her against his chest. Her head and torn arm rested on his shirt, blood staining the fabric.

“We can go home…” Yato repeated, voice cracking. He closed his eyes and put his lips against her forehead. His hand trailed from her hair down her neck and to her back, where he held her in a gentle embrace, afraid that she would shatter entirely. “Let’s go home.”

“You killed her, Yato,” a voice said mockingly after a few moments of silence. “If only you answered the question, she would still be alive.”

Yato opened his eyes, tears distorting his vision. He turned to look at who had spoken, seeing that Oshi was taking delight in his anguish.

No, Yato thought, but it was a desperate thought that slipped through his fingers like sand. Hiyori wasn’t dead, she couldn’t be dead. Not like this. Not here.

“Take him away, we’ll start over with one of the others.”

Yato snapped, panic rising as Kugaha and a Snatcher moved towards him to drag him away from Hiyori.

“No!” Yato tried to scream, but his voice was too weak and broken to raise. He wrapped his arm tighter around Hiyori, desperately holding onto her so they wouldn’t be separated. Hands grabbed his arms and hair, trying to pry him away from her, but he wouldn’t let go.

Never.

“Petrificus Totalus.”

Yato’s muscles locked into place. He was picked up easily and slung over Kugaha’s shoulder, unable to resist or scream.

“We’ll give you some time to decide if you want to tell us or not,” Oshi called after him. “If not, we’ll start over with that little kid you’re so fond of.”

All Yato could do was look at Hiyori’s fragile body getting smaller and smaller as he was taken away.

Yato had been dumped back in the dungeon where his companions waited in terror, hearing the screams from above suddenly cease. They rolled Yato over, trying to ask him what happened when they saw bloodstains over his clothes.

Yato’s eyes frantically searched their faces, trying to show them that he was paralyzed. But when they asked about Hiyori, pain tore through him again and tears burned behind his fearful eyes, unable to fall.

Kazuma was beside himself. He had become a bigger mess than Bishamon as he realised the full weight of his actions; that he had led them to their torture and deaths. He begged forgiveness, and the anger that had raged inside them turned to grief and hopelessness.

Trapped in his mind, words in his Father’s voice haunted Yato.

Look how much you’ve hurt her, he taunted, you couldn’t protect her. She’s dead now because of you. You only had to do one thing, and she would have been safe.

Poor Yaboku, you just killed another. Did you love her? Did she love you? Does she hate you for not saving her? You’ll never know. Because you killed her.

All you desire is possible. All you dread is inevitable.

The thoughts tortured him endlessly, hissing sweetly about how much she must have suffered, how relieved she must have been when he arrived, thinking that he would stop the pain. How terrified she must have been when she realised, he didn’t love her enough to save her.

The curse eventually wore off and Yato weakly flexed his fingers as he worked the muscles loose.

Yukine sat him up against the wall, asking what happened. Finding his voice, still weak and cracked, Yato began to tell them what happened. Shock, anger, and fear filled their faces as they listen to what they endured, disbelieving that Hiyori could be dead. The fears that Father knew to play on had become common knowledge, and it had been used against him.

“She isn’t dead!” Yukine cried out desperately, fingernails digging into Yato’s arm, trying to cling to evaporating hope. “She can’t be dead!”

“Yukine…” Yato said brokenly, bowing his head and biting his lip as the tears threatened to spill. He couldn’t let Yukine see him like this.

A sting of pain struck Yato’s stomach, his earlier beating catching up to him and forcing him to clutch himself and double over. He felt something solid in his pocket pressing against his hand. Realising what it was, he pulled Sakura’s two-way mirror – now cracked and missing a few pieces – from his pocket.

Yato held it up in front of his face. It was a child’s wish – one he didn’t believe he would ever outgrow – but there, a large green eye looked back at him.

“Help us,” Yato whispered, not knowing to what or who he was begging.

The eye vanished from the reflection, and Yato’s hand fell into his lap. They sat in silence, no words to console him or even offer a plan of escape. Minutes ticked by. Footsteps on the staircase alerted them of Kugaha’s return.

“Well, Yato, what’s your answer?” Kugaha asked.

“They don’t know anything. Take me to Hiyori and I’ll tell you,” Yato demanded, determined to keep his friends from harm for as long as he could.

“That’s not the agreement,” Kugaha said nastily.

The door opened and Kugaha strode across the room, wand pointed at Yukine. He roughly grabbed his hair and began dragging him towards the door. Yukine yelled in protest, hands clawing at Kugaha’s wrists as Yato tried to stand up to protect him. Falling, he grabbed Kugaha’s leg, clinging onto him like a child.

A bolt of light hit Yato’s back, making him cry out and release his grip. Kugaha’s aimed his wand at Bishamon and Kazuma as they stepped forward to stop him, grinning happily at their powerlessness. Yanking Yukine outside, Kugaha locked the door.

Yato gaped for breath as he pathetically tried to drag himself to the iron gate.

“I’ll be back when we’re finished with this one,” Kugaha’s receding voice called out to him. “Can’t make any promises that he won’t end up like your girlfriend. You better hurry up before we kill the other ones too, Yato.”

Yato collapsed on the ground, his hand stretched out to the locked door. He weakly called after Yukine, but his voice had shattered from grief.

Kazuma kneeled next to him, softly speaking words he did not hear. They’re going to die because of me, Yato thought to himself. Defeated, he lay his head on the ground, wishing he had never dragged his friends into this.

And then someone Apparated in the room.

Kugaha released his grip on Yukine’s hair and shoved him to the ground.

Yukine shielded his head with his arms, his curled-up body hitting the ground hard. After a moment he moved his arms apart slightly. A pair of feet lay a few meters in front of him. His head moved slowly to take in the person lying before him, sickness setting in his stomach as he saw Hiyori’s unconscious form. Bloodstained her clothes and face, skin pale as marble.

“Hiyori!” Yukine shouted, frantically scrambling towards her. He knew she couldn’t be dead; it was just a sadistic ploy. Hiyori couldn’t be dead…

A fist in his stomach stopped him from reaching her, his body crumpling to the ground as the breath was stolen from him. He knelt on the ground, head pressed against the ground as he clutched his stomach as he gaped for air, blurred tears distorting the dried streaks of blood in front of his face.

Fighting for breath, a hand grabbed the back of his shirt and hauled him to his feet. Slender fingers dug into his chin, forcing him to face his friend’s unstirring body.

“That’ll happen to you if you don’t answer me,” Oshi hissed in his ear.

“Let me help her... I’m begging you!” Yukine choked out, legs weak as he noticed the word carved in Hiyori’s arm.

“How will you save a dead person without magic?” Oshi sweetly asked. A lump rose in Yukine’s throat as he realised that he was powerless to save her.

Something hard pressed into his spine, bringing his mind back from the edge.

“Crucio.”

Yato stared disbelieving at the short figure that had Apparated into the cell.

It was impossible. No one could Apparate into the cells – or even this house, as he had found out all too soon as a child – yet Ebisu stood before them.

“Ebisu?” Yato asked quietly.

“I have come to rescue Master Yato,” Ebisu shuffled his feet, unnerved to have so many eyes on him at once.

Yato looked at him, agape. The mirror, the eye… did Ebisu have it all this time? The questions were short-lived in his mind as Yukine’s first cries drifted down to them. Yato felt his heart shudder. They needed to be quick.

“Can you Disapparate from this room?” Yato asked quickly.

Ebisu nodded.

“Can you take humans with you?”

A nod.

Another scream reached them, and Yato’s plan bloomed to life. “Ebisu, I need you to Apparate us out of here, to… anywhere. Take Kazuma and Bishamon first -.”

“No chance, we’re not leaving you,” Bishamon interrupted.

Yato hesitated for a second, but more hands would make escape easier. “Fine. We need to get our wands and bags back from the Snatchers, then get Yukine and Hiyori.”

Ebisu nodded and reached his hands up. Yato held Kazuma’s shoulder, and he and Bishamon took them hesitantly. A second later they were at the top of the stairs of the dungeons. Yato looked around and realised they were only a few rooms away from the great hall, though Yukine’s cry and Oshi’s voice would’ve easily directed them. Yato silently beckoned them forward, sticking to the edge of the hallway, which was filled with wide, draped windows.

Yato stopped short and ducked out of sight behind one of the heavy curtains, dawn breaking over the fields in the horizon and temporarily blinding him. Ebisu tucked himself beside Yato, and Kazuma and Bishamon hid behind the other curtain. Yato twitched the curtain and peered further up the hallway.

Two Snatchers had emerged from the great hall, talking quietly to themselves at the bottom of the staircase just out of sight. Yato looked over to Kazuma and Bishamon, who nodded silently in response.

They crept forward on silent feet, leaving Ebisu beside the curtain, thankful that they were looking the other way. Yato flung himself at the taller Snatcher, clamping a hand over his mouth and hanging on as he thrashed. Kazuma had hit out at the other Snatcher in an attempt to knock him out, but it seemed that his punch had landed awkwardly.

Yato cursed inwardly. if they made any noise, someone would come looking and they would be back in the cells, or under Oshi’s wand. Kazuma’s Snatcher reared back, wand in hand and a warning call rising in his throat. A metal pitcher was against his head and the Snatcher fell to the ground in a thump.

Bishamon breathed heavily, setting the pitcher back on the small table she’d found tucked beside the staircase.

Yato rummaged in the Snatchers pocket, hands finding stickiness and finally three wands which he recognised as his own, Hiyori’s and Yukine’s. Beside him, Kazuma emerged victorious with his own wand, and Bishamon picked up the Snatcher’s fallen wand.

They crept along the hallway, looking back over their shoulders to make sure no one was there, but there was not a soul in sight. Yato briefly thought of Ebisu before the air was punctuated by another of Yukine’s cries, and Yato’s heart somersaulted again.

They pressed their backs against the doorway’s arches, wands to chests. Yato slowly peered around the door. Oshi straddled Yukine in the same fashion she had tortured Hiyori, who still lay in the center of the room. Kugaha and Nora stood to the side of the room, flanked by two Snatchers.

Yato noticed three new figures in black robes on the opposite side of the room, their arms tucked into their sleeves. The only woman among them wore an ornate headpiece unlike her companion’s black hats, but Yato instantly recognised the man to her left. His slate grey eyes watched Yukine’s torture with no sympathy: Mitsuguri, the man who had read Tenjin’s will to them. One of Amaterasu’s traitorous advisors.

Yato quickly scanned the woman and the other blond-haired man. Mikagami and Mitama, the other advisors who betrayed the Minister of Magic for the Sorcerer. They were here. Why?

Yato felt a chill run up his spine. Had the Sorcerer been summoned? Was he on his way now? No, it couldn’t be. Oshi was so desperate to know how they had acquired the sword that she wouldn’t dare bring the Sorcerer here until she could hide it.

Yukine’s broken voice pierced the air again and Yato snapped back to attention, finding Kazuma’s and Bishamon’s eyes on him, hands tensed and nostrils flaring. With a nod, Yato gave the order.

“Stupefy!”

Yato, Kazuma, and Bishamon surged into the room, wands blaring in a multitude of green and blue light that bounced from the walls, windows, and the chandelier as the room descended into chaos.

Oshi was on her feet in a second, teeth bared and wand spitting green blasts in their direction as they dived for what little cover the room offered. Nora pressed herself to the wall, mouth agape, as Kugaha slipped his wand from his sleeve. He drew his arms wide with a wicked smile, glad to finally have some fun.

Yato threw himself to the floor, his and Yukine’s wands clutched in his hands as he fired a blinding spell towards one of the Snatchers that advanced on him. In the madness he saw three plumes of blackened robes Disapparate, leaving an empty spot where the advisors had stood.

Yato swore inwardly, but Oshi’s cry caught his attention. Yukine had kicked his leg out, scattering Oshi to the floor and sending her wand spinning around the cool marble. She snarled at Yukine, but he was already up and on his feet, arm hanging by his side and limping furiously towards Yato. Yato was relieved to see no blood on him, but he could see the fury and fear in his features. Yato pressed the wand into Yukine’s hand and together they entered the fray.

The two Snatchers had engaged in a duel with Kazuma and Bishamon, spells and sparks flying as they defended each other and attacked in sync. Nora and Kugaha were moving towards them. Kugaha stepped over Hiyori’s body like she was a fallen tree, a grin on his face, but Nora looked back over her shoulder like she wanted to run.

Yato’s eyes flickered to Oshi who had grasped her wand, eyes glittering with malice, and tore at them like a wildcat.

Without a word, Yato and Yukine threw themselves forward.

The spells deflected off the shields they threw up, the onslaught of three witches' firepower pushing them back and barely giving an inch for them to fire. Oshi cursed every murderous hex she could think of at them, and Kugaha bore down on them.

On the other side of the room, one of the Snatchers had fallen, leaving one more facing down the unstoppable power Kazuma and Bishamon presented as a team. A particularly well-aimed from Kazuma sent his wand flying from his hand, and the Snatcher was knocked out by Bishamon.

Yato’s eyes flickered to Nora. She was stood back a bit, her hand raised with her wand protecting them, but when their eyes met, something in her waivered. For the briefest second the shield slip, Yukine’s stunning spell got through and hit Oshi straight in the chest, sending her flying backward and landing in a heap. Kugaha’s smile turned to a snarl and he redoubled his efforts, but it seemed that Nora’s protection was gone now. Yato hit Kugaha with a freezing spell and he fell to the ground stiff as a board.

“Drop them.”

Yato’s eyes snapped to the middle of the room. His heart stopped. Oshi held the unconscious Hiyori up to her chest, a sliver of a silver blade pressed to her neck.

“Drop them,” Oshi growled. “Drop them or she dies.”

Yato heaved, anger and desperation rising in his chest, but lowered his wand. Beside him, he saw Yukine, Kazuma, and Bishamon lower their wands too.

She snapped her head to Nora. “Summon you father!”

After the briefest internal struggle, Nora raised her sleeve, face contorted, and Yato saw the ugly scar of the Dark Mark on her arm begin to rise and coil underneath her wand.

He’s coming…. The voice from the wedding echoed in Yato’s head. They needed to get out of here. Now.

“DROP THEM!” Oshi screeched again, knife pressing further into Hiyori’s throat and drawing the barest whimper.

Her voice echoed around the room. The reverberation faded away, and a dull squeaking filled the room. Oshi’s eyes clouded for a second in confusion, as did the rest of the room.

Slowly, their eyes went up.

Ebisu clung to the thick iron chain that suspended the chandelier above Oshi’s head, his hands methodically twisting the fastening. Dust and cobwebs rained down on them, and a second before they could react, the chandelier came crashing to the ground.

Oshi threw herself backward, knife clattering to the ground as she and Hiyori fell inches away from one of the pointed edges. Yato and Yukine surged forward over Kugaha, a blasting spell knocking Oshi even further back away from Hiyori. Yukine grabbed Hiyori by the shoulders and hauled her up into his arms.

Yato crashed into Nora, sending them both sprawling the ground. He rose up over her, seeing the Dark Mark contort and writhe as if the serpent had come alive in her flesh. Their eyes met for the briefest of seconds before Yato wrapped his hands around Nora’s wand and wrenched it from her grasp. The Dark Mark sunk back onto Nora’s arm, shifting over the pale skin.

Yato kicked his way back up and stumbled to the back of the room, hearing Oshi stirring behind him and the sound of metal scraping stone. Ebisu stood on the fireplace with Kazuma, Bishamon, and Yukine with Hiyori in his arms.

Ebisu snapped his fingers and a second later he was holding a wand – Oshi’s wand. Shock registered in her face which was quickly filled with rage and disgust.

“How dare you take a witch's wand!” Oshi screeched. “How dare you defy your masters!”

Ebisu drew himself up taller, eyes glittering in the remnants of the fireplace and the breaking dawn through the windows. “I have no master. I am a free elf!”

Yato felt the clamp of a small hand on his shoulder and instinctively reached out for Yukine’s and Kazuma’s hands.

As the world spun and turned to darkness, he caught a glimpse of Kugaha’s frozen face, Nora’s tears, the redness of blood, and the silver of a dagger.

The world came back in the form of a grey sky and a biting wind that stung their cuts with saltwater. Yato stood alone, staring at the bleakness of a grey sea far from shore and an old cottage stood on the tufts of grass that edged the beach.

Bishamon and Kazuma were a few feet away, clutching each other and just as disorientated. Beside them was Yukine, untangling Hiyori’s limbs from him and laying her on the beach, frantically looking into her face. Yato took a step forward, questions on the tip of his tongue.

"Yato..."

Yato spun around, the small, weak voice catching his attention. Nothing but grey overcast skies met his view. Until he looked down.

Ebisu stood hunched over, the ornate handle of a dagger lodged in his stomach. Blood smeared his small hands and bled dark red droplets into the wet sand below as he took faltering steps forward.

Yato dived forwards, catching Ebisu as he collapsed. His mouth hung open in unmasked horror, eyes fixed on the bloody weapon buried to the hilt in Ebisu’s stomach.

"Y-you're okay, it's okay," Yato hushed, trying to keep the panic from his voice. He turned to look at Kazuma and the others. They watched him silently, morosely, already accepting what Yato could not.

"Kazuma... there must be something... that bag..." Yato’s eyes fell on the backpack slung over Kazuma’s shoulder, remembering all of the potions and salves they had. One of them at least, just something to stop the bleeding, anything. He looked back up at them, silently pleading for Ebisu's sake.

Yukine turned away, biting his lip as he stared down at the unconscious Hiyori. Bishamon's eyes were glassy as Kazuma gently shook his head.

"Yato..." Ebisu's hand gripped onto Yato's shirt as tightly as he could, mustering the last of his life force for a farewell.

Yato looked down at them, breaths shuddering and blinking away tears as he looked at his pale face.

"I'm... glad that I... met you…" Ebisu forced his sentences, staring at the sky, clinging to what remained of his time left in the world. "I don't... want to die."

Ebisu final words were stolen by the wind. His green eyes still observed the sky above, even after they dulled and didn't move again. If not for the way his body went slack, or the way his hand loosened its grip on Yato's shirt, Yato may have been able to pretend that he was only sleeping.

If not for that, Yato would have believed that he hadn’t killed the last of his family.

#this is nearly 5 years in the making #this is what ive been waiting to publish #noragami #noragami aragoto #yato #yukine #hiyori #kazuma #bishamon #nora #yatori #hp au #harry potter au #in the darkness

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