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ginnyweasleymybeloved · 3 years

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summer breezes / george weasley

hi crew :) idk why i wrote this but i was in a george mood so here we go ;)

summary: george acts like he hates you, he doesn’t really hate you. you act like you hate him, but you don’t really hate him. chaos ensues.

slight neville x reader for a second

word count: 6.9k

warnings: swearing, george being mean, lil angsty, fluffy at the end, reader’s house is not specified <3, mentions of food, kissing

let me know what you think ;)

“And what do you expect me to do? By the time I’d even realised I was falling I’d already landed face first on the proverbial concrete,” you groaned out in exasperation, while your best friend looked at you with so much distaste that anyone would’ve thought you’d murdered his family pet.

He shook his head, a scowl as clear as day splashed across his lips as he reprimanded you for your heart’s foolishness, “Of all people…” he scoffed in disgust, “Honestly, Y/n.”

“You know, you shouting at me isn’t going to fix anything,” he rolled his eyes at your statement and racked his eyes over your disheveled state. You’d obviously been battling with yourself over your—unfortunate—crush for some time. As your best friend, Ron Weasley knew he’d have to soften up on you eventually, but honestly, it was your own fault for falling for one of his disastrous siblings.

You were currently sprawled out on Harry’s bed, across from the red-headed boy you’d known since you were in nappies, your arms hanging off the edges of Harry’s four-poster. Neither you or Ron had a clue where Harry, or Hermione, had disappeared off to today. Harry was probably on the quidditch pitch practicing while Hermione haunted the library, you supposed as you listened to Ron’s rantings, wishing they’d been there to mediate.

“—of all of my siblings too! You couldn’t have picked, oh I don’t know, Charlie? Or Fred even? Merlin, even Ginny! But no! You just had to go and bloody fall for the only Weasley who actively cannot stand you.” You only caught that portion of his rave, having gotten lost in the idea of being coddled sympathetically by Harry or Hermione. You adore Ron, really, he’s your loyalist and longest friend, but Merlin was he a total drama queen.

“Charlie is five years older than me, Fred is my wingman and honestly, I snogged him on a dare last summer and I wasn’t that impressed and in case you’ve forgotten, Ronald, Ginny is dating Harry,” you lectured, ignoring how he rolled his eyes as you continued, “Also I’m well aware that he hates me. You don’t need to keep reminding me.”

His composure cracked after hearing your depressed mumble, and with a sigh he moved from his spot on his own bed and made the short trip over to Harry’s. Ron gently pulled you into a sitting position on the edge of the mattress and sat himself down next to you. He let out a heavy sigh, still slightly shaking his head—he couldn’t seem to stop—, then he dropped a heavy arm around your shoulder and pulled you into his side, finally offering you the comfort you’d been seeking out in the first place.

“S’alright, Y/n. Maybe he’ll get hit in the head with a bludger and forget he’s hated you since he was four.” Ron encouraged, very weakly.

You released a sigh of your own at that, “I feel like I’m betraying myself here. Like I’m letting that stupid git win.” Ron couldn’t stop the laugh he let out at your grumble.

“I’ll be honest, I thought he’d be the first to crack. You can be quite scary when you get going.” Ron divulged, shuddering at the memories of when he’d been on the receiving end of your rath.

Your family and the Weasley family had been extremely close since before you or Ron were even born, which meant you’d grown up alongside all of the Weasley children. Of course, because of your ages you and Ron had been attached at the hip as infants and remained that way even now, late into your fifth year of Hogwarts. Most of the Weasley children simply adored you, as you did them. However, there was one boy who, for whatever reason, hated you to your very core and as far as you could remember; he always had.

He is none other than the younger of the two twins; George Weasley. Despite the fact that Fred was actually quite fond of you, his twin refused to warm up to you in any way, shape or form. No, the tall and annoyingly attractive boy had made it his life’s mission not to get along with you, but instead, wage a war on you that spanned for the entirety of your childhood and adolescence.

“When did things change? When did it stop being a challenge? When did it start affecting me like this? I used to take his insults like a champ! I used to get him back worse!” You wondered out loud, letting your head flop onto Ron’s broad shoulder as he let out a puff of air through his nose.

“You still take it like a champ, numpty,” he chastised you gently, recoiling ever so slightly when you lurched forward in complete defeat. Your hands shot up to cover your face as you rested your forehead against your knees.

“No! I don’t,” you murmured dejectly, lifting your face from your hands to make eye contact with Ron. “Do you remember the other night in the Great Hall? When Neville told me he thought my hair looked pretty? And George, out of bloody nowhere, comes over and says and I quote, ‘I wouldn’t waste your time on this one, Longbottom. You’d have a better time kissing that toad of yours.’ Do you remember that?” Ron raised an eyebrow and nodded in confusion, your voice seemed to be steadily rising in octaves as you recalled the events of the other night. He had to admit, it had been an unusually unnecessary comment on George’s part, but the youngest Weasley boy wasn’t really sure where you were going with it.

“Well do you remember how I had said, ‘how’s that girlfriend of yours, Georgie? Figured out a way to make her stop being invisible yet?’ and then remember I rushed off? Do you wanna know where I rushed off to?” You pressed, watching intently as Ron nodded his head, unsure if he even wanted to know. “I went to the bathroom and I cried! I cried, Ron! Over something George bloody Weasley said to me!”

His eyes widened at that. Never once had George ever managed to properly upset you.

“And over something as small as that? I’ve heard him say a lot worse to your face.” Ron said in disbelief and you nodded, expression mimicking his as if you couldn’t believe it yourself.

“Right? And it’s like everytime he says something mean to me now my stomach drops and it actually hurts,” Ron regarded you softly, his eyes sad while he rubbed your back as you buried your face in your hands yet again, “Do you know what’s worse though?”

Ron opened his mouth to hazard a guess but no sound escaped as he drew nothing but blanks.

“I actually care what he thinks of me now. As if I actually value his idiotic opinions of me.”

It was at that moment that Harry entered the room sporting muddy quidditch gear and a confused expression, “May I ask why we’re having a heart to heart on my bed?”

Ron shrugged, continuing to rub soothing circles into your back as he told Harry mournfully, “Y/n likes George.”

“Merlin.” Harry whispered, as horrified to learn of your crush as Ron had been. “But, Y/n, he hates you! I mean he really hates you-“ the chosen one was cut off by a pillow making contact with his face. Ron had chucked it at him the second he felt your form begin to shake beneath his touch.

“Bloody hell, Harry! You’ve gone and upset her even more!” He whispered harshly. Harry quickly set his broom down and plopped himself down beside you, leaving you trapped between himself and Ron. The green-eyed boy rested his cheek against your lightly shaking back and managed to snake his arms around your torso.

“Sorry. Shouldn’t have said that.” He told you genuinely. “Should we go and find Hermione?”

You only shook your head. Embarrassment quickly overtook you as you realised your were crying in front of your two best friends over George fucking Weasley.

“No. No, I’m okay. It’s fine,” you sat up and hastily wiped your tears away.

“It’s okay to be upset, Y/n,” Harry spoke softly, squeezing your middle in a short hug, getting mud from his quidditch practice all over you.

With a resolute shake of your head you stood up and faced the boys, who each looked at you with pity filled eyes, then you spoke as steadily as you could, “I’m not upset. He hasn’t upset me,” you weren’t fooling anyone, really. Your eyes were bloodshot, your cheeks and nose were red and your voice was slightly hoarse when you spoke. The boys entertained you anyway, nodding in agreement.

“I’m telling you this as his brother and your best mate; you can do better.” Ron told you honestly, he wasn’t lying either, you were the type of girl who could get any boy she wanted without lifting a finger. Well, not any boy—obviously— but that wasn’t anything to do with you. Ron had his suspicions in regards to why his brother acted like such a knob towards you, however he’d been thrown off his scent recently when the older ginger stopped being mean to you teasingly in favour of being just plain mean.

You gave Ron the best smile you could muster at his words, “You are absolutely right, Ronald.”

Harry snorted before making his way over to Ron’s trunk, he rifled through it for a few seconds before pulling out one of Ron’s jumpers. He casually tossed, what you recognised to be Ron’s Christmas jumper from Molly, over to you with a grin, “Put that on. I got muck all over you.”

You had plenty of your own Christmas jumpers made by Molly Weasley but they were all the way over in your own dorm. Besides, you liked stealing the ones made for the boys as they were usually far too big for you which made them extremely comfortable to wear.

So you happily pulled the maroon jumper over your head, the wool effectively covering your dirtied t-shirt.

“Oh yes, by all means, you two just work away.” Ron grunted sarcastically. In all honesty, he didn’t care if you stole every piece of fabric he owned, if it made you feel better, he couldn’t care less.

“Right,” you said, making your way to the door of the dorm room, “I think I’ll go for a walk before the sunsets, calm myself down a bit.”

The boys nodded, “See you at dinner?” Ron asked and you gave him a smile and a small nod of confirmation before you set off out of the Gryffindor common room.

Thankfully, you didn’t run into George on your way out. You walked peacefully through the gardens and behind the greenhouses, it was around five in the evening and the sun was beginning to stoop low behind the tree line. The days were beginning to take on a chill as October approached quickly, you’d gone out without grabbing a jacket and you couldn’t deny that you were beginning to feel the cold nipping at your skin despite Ron’s jumper. Pulling the sleeves further down your wrists you carried on, trudging forward through the fallen leaves of the garden, you weren’t ready to go back inside yet. Going back to the castle meant you’d have to look your problem in the face, literally. You settled on the fact that you’d rather endure the physical cold rather than the emotional coldness you were sure to receive from George at dinner.

When you’d reached the back of the third greenhouse you could faintly hear someone humming to themselves and a soft smile found your lips when you saw who it was. Neville sat on a chair in the greenhouse, right by a plant that you hadn’t a clue what it was called, seemingly humming the little tune for the plant in question. Despite his undeniable clumsiness, there was something about Neville Longbottom that soothed you greatly. He has a good soul and his heart is usually in the right place, even if his head is sometimes screwed on slightly loose.

Gently, trying not to startle him you knocked on the closed door of the greenhouse before you opened it and walked in, “Hi, Neville. Mind if I join you?”

Neville blushed slightly but nodded his head, “Course! There’s a spare chair just there,” he pointed nervously to the chair. Once you settled yourself beside him, he let himself relax slightly.

“What sort of plant is this?” You asked him curiously. You really liked plants but you weren’t the best at keeping them alive, Neville though, seemed to be something of a green thumb.

He beamed at your question and quickly began to explain everything about the plant before you. You didn’t absorb a lot of it but listening to Neville speak so freely, something he rarely got to do amidst the other Gryffindor boys, filled you with a sense of serenity. Between his voice and the light wind that blew against the glass building, you’d completely forgotten about your red-headed problem.

“—sorry, I’m probably boring you. My nan says I have a tendency to ramble.” He cut himself off, cheeks heating up as he rubbed the back of his neck bashfully.

With a small giggle you only shook your head at the brown haired boy, “You’re not boring me at all! I quite like listening to you speak,” you admitted although you felt a bit silly after saying it out loud. Neville seemed to grow even more flustered after the words left your lips.

His eyes searched your face for any sign that you were teasing him, but all he saw was your kind eyes and comforting smile. Not exactly sure about what to say to you, Neville made an observation, “You’re cold.”

You gave him a nonchalant shrug, “I’m okay.”

Completely unsatisfied with your answer, Neville shook his head in protest and shrugged off his jacket. He was used to spending a lot of time in the garden so he was usually sporting far more layers than necessary, just in case. “Here, wear this. You’ll catch a cold otherwise,” he fretted and you didn’t have the heart to turn his offer down, you didn’t want to turn it down either, you were absolutely freezing. Gratefully you accepted the jacket and wasted no time in pulling it on.

“Thank you, Neville,” he looked you over for a moment, you could tell he was debating with himself on whether or not to speak, after a long few seconds of his eyes running over you he spoke.

“You look nice- I, uh, the jacket. You look nice in the jacket- I mean, the jacket looks nice on you-“ another giggle left your lips and effectively put the boy’s fumbled ramble to an end.

“Again, thank you, Neville. You are unbelievably kind.” You told him sincerely, quite enjoying the blush that adorned his cheeks.

“We should probably head back to the castle for dinner now. It’s gotten dark,” Neville said, standing up after giving his plant a loving pat.

The walk back to the castle with Neville was nice. The pair of you chatted idly about school subjects and house drama, but you had to admit, you weren’t paying a huge amount of attention to the conversation.

“Thanks again for lending me your jacket,” you said sweetly, shrugging the jacket off as you reached the main hall of the castle.

Neville, who seemed to be in a perpetual state of bashfulness, took the jacket back gently, a rosy blush painting his features, “It was no problem, really.”

Neville had always been incredibly kindhearted, sometimes to his own detriment. He treated people with respect and never turned anyone away if they needed help with anything at all. He is sweet, honest, loyal and, whether you liked him or not, he is indisputably adorable. And you found yourself thinking about how entirely better your life would be if your heart had chosen Neville to have a romantic fondness towards.

After separating from Neville, you made your way towards the Great Hall. On your way you bumped into Fred Weasley, who surprisingly, wasn’t accompanied by his twin. He greeted you with a wide smile and, as he always did, he ruffled your hair.

“So! I have a proposition for you,” the look on his face as he spoke was nothing short of wicked, a pit of nerves began to form in your stomach with the way his eyes were lit up excitedly.

“What are you proposing?” You encouraged exhaustedly. Whatever it was would probably end with you running from Filch.

Fred lopped his long arm around your shoulder, effectively pulling you along with him as he walked in the opposite direction of the Great Hall. Any chance of you getting fed this evening had gone out the window the second Fred clapped eyes on you, you’d made your peace with it. “I’m glad you asked, princess- “ at the sound of the pet name you let out a guttural groan.

“Freddie, please, I’m not in the mood to help you make some poor girl jealous just so you can get a snog,” you whined weakly only for the boy to ruffle your hair and tug you closer to his side.

“Let me finish! As I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted,” he paused to glare at you jokingly and you smiled apologetically, “I have a plan to make George stop acting like a prat.”

A disbelieving scoff left your lips, “Yeah that’s likely,” Fred laughed and pinched your cheek lightly before carrying on.

“Angelina told me that she heard you crying in the girls toilets the other night,” he informed you. Your eyes widened in shock and confusion, you didn’t think anyone was in there with you and you also couldn’t piece together what your moment of weakness had to do with Fred’s master plan. “And before you start, I know it’s because of George.”

“That’s ridiculous, Fred.” You lied, unconvincingly.

Fred laughed again, it was a gentle laugh that let you know he hadn’t come here to tease you but to help you, “I know it’s ridiculous and that’s exactly why I know you’ve been so down in the dumps the last few days.”

“Besides,” he started again when you remained silent, “Why else would Ron be giving his brother the silent treatment?”

“What does any of this have to do with your plan?” You asked, eyes sad and heart heavy for the second time that day. You’d only just managed to get the whole thing out of your mind, and yet, here it was again.

“Well I happen to know why George acts the way he does,” you met him with a raised eyebrow and a bored expression.

“Because he hates me, I know.” Fred’s lips grew into a wicked grin and he shook his head, coming to a stop in the middle of the hallway.

“That’s where you’re wrong. He doesn’t hate you,” he lowered his lips to hover right by your ear before he whispered quietly, “He loves you.”

With a roll of your eyes, you pushed the boy away, fixing him with a hard stare, “Come on, Fred. That’s not funny.”

“I’m not joking!” He exclaimed desperately, “We were in potions making amortentia, yeah? And Slughorn called George up to tell the class what he smelled and do you know what he said?” Fred retold madly, knowing full well that this was possibly the only opening he’d get to make the two of you realise your own feelings. Fred was well aware that you developed a crush on George, he picked up on it the second you began looking crestfallen when hit with a snide remark from his twin. He knew long before now that George had loving feelings towards you too, but their recent potions class was the only hard evidence he had to support his theory.

You shrugged helplessly in response, and Fred grabbed your shoulders and looked down at you urgently, “He said it smelled of cloudberries, daisies and-this is a direct quote-‘summer breezes’,” you stared at him numbly, not exactly sure what to say as the description did match the perfume you’d been wearing regularly since you were thirteen.

“That’s you, Y/n!” Fred confirmed and you pulled your lips between your teeth before shaking your head in complete denial.

“Lots of girls wear that perfume-“ Fred cut you off, ruthlessly.

“Name one.” You racked your brain but you genuinely couldn’t name another person who wore the same perfume as you. “You can’t, can you? Because it’s your smell!”

“Ok fine! So it’s my smell, what exactly do you expect me to do with this information?” Fred rolled his eyes in exhaustion at you.

“Blimey, you’re as daft as he is sometimes, do you know that?” Fred ran his hands down his face in exasperation before looking at you softly, “I except you to come with me so we can drive him mental for a bit and if he gets nasty I’ll embarrass him because I’m an incredible brother.”

You let him lead you towards Gryffindor Tower all while complaining about how you were starving only for Fred to hush you each time you let out a hungered whine, “We can raid the kitchen later on, love,” he promised and you sighed in defeat, “That’s the spirit.”

When the pair of you entered the Gryffindor common room, George was already there, probably waiting for Fred to return it. He sat one one of the sofas that faced the fire, completely relaxed and you hated the fact that you thought he looked amazingly ethereal with the way the flames from the fire lit his skin in an orange glow.

He hadn’t noticed you yet and Fred took notice of this. The older twin subtly slid his hand into yours and intertwined your fingers with his before turning his head and shooting you a mischievous wink. Fred Weasley was a nightmare, but when he was on your side, he never failed to make you smile.

Accepting that whatever Fred was about to drag you into would result in nothing but chaos you took a deep breath and followed Fred over to the sofa.

“What is she doing here?” George practically seethed, despite the intensity of his glare, you didn’t miss the nervous look he shot in Fred’s direction. What you had missed, though, was how harshly he’d clenched his jaw upon noticing your intertwined hands.

You decided that tonight you’d play the game slightly differently, if what Fred was saying was true, it would make things all the more entertaining. So, instead of your usual menacing glare and ego-shattering insult you met George with an innocent smile, “Was just hanging out with Freddie, thought I’d come say hello,” you said, sitting in the middle of the two twins.

George stared at you suspiciously, “Hello. That all?”

“Hi. No, actually, I think I’ll sit with you for a while. If that’s okay?” Fred was smirking from his spot beside you as he watched George’s face contort.

“You’ve never wanted to sit with me before.” He told you, squinting his eyes and trying to decipher what you were up to. He couldn’t lie to himself, he definitely wouldn’t mind you staying so close to him for a while, however he’d also sooner die then let you think you had the upper hand.

His and your composure cracked simultaneously at your next sentence, your truthful and somewhat vulnerable mumble of, “Well, you’ve never given me a chance to.” He knew you were right so he didn’t say anymore, opting to shift his gaze to the roaring fire, trying his best not to let his mind linger on the fact that you were wearing his brother’s jumper. His nose perked up at the scent that drifted from your spot, unusually close to him. There was no doubt in his mind that he’d fancied you for a long time, but, there was also no denying that he’d done a perfect job of making you hate him. Yet, as much as he wanted to just cut the crap, tell you that he thinks you’re the most insufferably beautiful girl he’d ever seen and kiss you and never ever stop, his pride would never allow him to cave. Especially not when you challenged him so effortlessly.

“So how come you were headed to dinner so late anyway?” Fred piqued up, growing tired of the lack of hostility between yourself and his twin.

“Oh. I was sort of worked up earlier so I decided to go for a walk ‘round the greenhouses. I bumped into Neville and I suppose I just lost track of time,” you explained halfheartedly.

Fred let yet another smirk overtake his face, “Longbottom, eh?” He wiggled his eyebrows and you let out a short giggle while shaking your head, sure, it would’ve been a good topic to tease George with, however, Neville was simply too sweet to be used as a pawn.

“Don’t get me wrong, he’s very sweet. But he’s just a friend,” George looked almost satisfied with that answer, his usual scowl making an appearance once again.

“He could do better.” It was a barefaced lie. Neville couldn’t do better than you. In fact, George was of the firm belief that nobody could do better than you.

“Of course he could, he’s quite the charmer,” you spoke wistfully, finally giving Fred the show he’d been hoping for, as you egged George on.

George pretended to think for a moment, “I’m sure he is. Personally I think you’d be more suited to Filch, although, I’ve heard his standards are quite high.”

You took the boy by surprise when you laughed, the airy giggle left your mouth had such a profound effect on George that he almost wished he’d kept his mouth shut. His heart was leaping and there were butterflies beginning to form in his stomach, he physically had to will himself not to stare at you in awe when your eyes turned to meet his. The glow of the fire only aided in showing him how gorgeous those stupid eyes of yours are. “Mmm, yeah I suppose I should lower my expectations,” you paused briefly and mimicked George’s earlier motion of pretending to mull over your options. Your next action had Fred practically howling with laughter.

“You’re available, aren’t you Georgie?” You’d asked in a mock sultry tone, leaning towards him and lightly brushing your hand down his arm. Loving the way he choked on air you got up from the sofa, not before shooting him a wink, and sauntered towards the portrait hole, “I’ll be in the kitchens. See ya later, sexy.” You directed the last part at George, who looked as though he’d been frozen in time as Fred’s laughter grew in volume.

Upon entering the kitchen, the house elves had fussed around you, handing you food at any given opportunity. You had finished eating a while ago, you were currently nursing a hot cup of tea while chatting away to one of the house elves, only to be interrupted by someone else entering the kitchen.

He set his sights on you and quickly moved to the seat across from you, a look of urgency on his face that reminded you of Fred, “Whatever he told you. It’s not true,” you raised an eyebrow, sipping your tea uncaringly.

“Mind elaborating?” You asked tiredly.

“Fred.”

“Thank you, George, very clear and helpful,” you grumbled sarcastically and the boy let out a huff.

“You were acting different. You know something. What did he tell you?” George demanded through gritted teeth and you only deflated against your chair. It always boggled your mind how everyone described George as the nicer of the twins.

Not answering, you decided to start asking your own questions, “Can I ask you something?”

“Seems like you’re going to no matter what I say,” he sighed out as an elf pottered up to him and handed him a cup full of hot tea. He took it gently and thanked the elf with such sincerity that you wished you hadn’t seen the exchange, simply because it stung to know he’d never treat you with that level of sincerity.

“Why do you hate me so much?” He sat frozen for a second. Your tone of voice took him by surprise. It was needy bordering on desperate, nothing like he’d ever heard you speak before, not to him anyway.

George took a sip of his tea and shrugged as if the question was a stupid one, “I don’t.” A cold, humourless laugh came from you in response, the kind of laugh that made his stomach drop.

“Bollox. I’m being serious, George. Tell me what it is about me that makes me so insufferable to you!” You exclaimed, heart rate increasing and tone raising in octaves as you felt yourself growing more upset by his reserved expression.

George let out a heavy sigh, the jig was about to be up. You were upset and merlin was he tired of pretending that he didn’t want you in every way, shape and form.

“Do you really want to know?”

“Yes.” There was no trace of hesitance or uncertainty in your voice, at this point you didn’t care what the answer was you just had to know.

“Fine,” he said all too casually and you knew by his tone that he, as per usual, wasn’t taking you seriously. “I don’t hate you. The only insufferable thing about you is how annoyingly gorgeous-“ you cut him off right then, with a scoff of pure disbelief.

Shaking your head rapidly, you stood from your chair and all but stormed out of the kitchen. His footsteps began to echoed behind you a few corridors later, he would’ve caught up to you sooner had your response to his would be confession not left him completely immobile. He called your name but you didn’t stop. You couldn’t stop. Tears stung your eyes and you absolutely refused to let him know that he’d managed to bring you to the point of tears. Not that it was the first time.

“Bloody hell, Y/n! Hold on would you?” He called, finally getting close enough to reach out and grab your wrist. He spun you around to face him and quickly placed his hands on your upper arms to stop you from doing another runner. When he took you in he swore he’d never hate himself more than he did the moment he looked at you to see your eyes filled with tears, small drops escaping and carving a trail down your cheeks while you sniffed miserably.

“What?” You snapped, hostility the only thing you felt like offering the ginger in the moment. His brown eyes bored into yours with so much intensity but they held something you didn’t recognise. They looked sad, almost.

“I wasn’t making fun of you.” He stated honestly but you furrowed your eyebrows, your eyes set in a glare.

“Then what were you doing?” You croaked, letting your tears fall freely as the damage was already done. The sinking of your stomach and the tightening of your chest didn’t do a thing to ease your mind as George’s hands squeezed your arms.

He licked his lips quickly, he felt they’d become unbearably dry, and then slowly, he let his hands trail down your arms and took your smaller hands into his own. He hoped you were feeling the same electricity he was when he touched you.

“I’ve been a prick to you. You didn’t deserve it and I’m sorry.” He sounded sincere, but you second guessed him. For all you knew it was just some elaborate prank, Fred was probably in on it too.

When your gaze didn’t soften, he continued to speak, “So I understand why you wouldn’t believe me when I tell you that I don’t hate you. But I just-“ he cut himself off with a heavy sigh.

“You just what?” You squeaked when his eyes spent a moment too long observing your lips. You hardly had time to register the feeling of his hands leaving yours before they were cupping your cheeks instead. “What’re you doing?” You wondered, completely dazed by the way he stared at you. His warm hands holding your face causing your stomach to jolt in an entirely different sensation than before. As much as you wanted to push him away and tell him to shove his apology, you couldn’t help but take him in. His lips were parted ever so slightly and his cheeks were flushed, probably from chasing you through the castle, his hair was disheveled and merlin he looked like he wanted to kiss you.

Your question floated in the air, completely unanswered. Next thing you knew his lips were on yours. He kissed you as if you were oxygen and he’d just been drowning and you couldn’t help but move your lips harmonically against his too. Your hands clutched his wrists as he continued to cradle your cheeks. In all honesty you weren’t sure at what point he’d backed you against the wall, or at what point his tongue had entered your mouth or when exactly his hands had migrated to your hips, yours now tangled in his hair. His body was pressed flush against yours and the small groans he’d let out when you tugged at his hair or ran your tongue against his made you realise that you couldn’t care less if this was one big prank or joke. It was happening and that’s all you cared about.

Even as he reluctantly pulled away, he chased your lips with several shorter kisses before separating entirely. He rested his forehead against yours, his guard completely down now as he admired your swollen lips and heaving chest. The feeling of your fingers in his hair made it nearly impossible for him to keep his lips detached from yours, “You’ve no idea how many times I’ve thought about doing that.”

Your eyes searched his face for any sign that he was lying, when you found none you finally let yourself smile. A similar smile formed on George’s face, “I meant what I said earlier. I really do think you’re annoyingly gorgeous,” the boy silently praised himself when you let out a cute giggle.

“You’re quite cute too. When you’re not running that massive mouth of yours,” you teased although you weren’t really joking, to your surprise George let out a bellowing laugh before placing a fluttering kiss against your lips.

When he pulled away again he looked around the hallway, as if he only now realised where he was. Luckily nobody was wandering the halls since curfew was fast approaching and the unwelcoming cold that occupied the hallways left little reason for students or staff to be out and about. George slid his hand into yours again, this time intertwining your fingers with his. He gave you a hopeful glance and asked, “Do you wanna go somewhere?”

You nodded your head and let him tug you into one of the abandoned astronomy classrooms on the upper floor of the castle, Filch rarely ever patrolled up there which is why George decided on it. As well as that, since the classroom, which had been out of use for a good few years, had been used for astronomy the ceiling was bewitched to reflect the night sky.

George hadn’t come to this particular class in a while but thinking on his feet he remembered the cupboard at the back of the classroom used to hold blankets, he remembered when the classroom had been in use during his first year, students would be all but freezing during the winter, so they’d stocked the classroom with blankets to be brought out during the colder months.

He made his way over to the cupboard and grinned happily when his hand landed on a rather large woollen blanket. The material was scratchy but it would do for what he needed it for. He grabbed one more blanket from the dusty press before he made his way back over to you.

George suppressed a chuckle as he watched you, your face completely turned up, watching the stars on the ceiling with awe in your eyes. He busied himself with laying the wool blanket out on the bare floor, the room was devoid of tables and chairs so he didn’t have to worry about finding a space. Once he was finished, he plopped down on the blanket and expectantly patted the empty space beside him, “Come on then, sit down,” he urged and you finally tore your eyes away from the charmed ceiling.

A small laugh left your lips when you settled yourself down beside him, he wasted no time in covering the pair of you in the second blanket. With an exaggerated sigh he laid back and waited for you to do the same, he turned on his side to face you when you did. In contrast to earlier, George had an air of nervousness about him as he deftly took your hand and began playing with your fingers, not meeting your eyes. “Just out of curiosity,” he began quietly, making eye contact with you now, “What exactly did Fred tell you?”

His question forced a somewhat smug smirk to crawl onto your lips and you couldn’t help but take the opportunity to tease him. You leaned up on your elbows and twisted slightly so you could look down at him, trying not to waste too much time admiring the view, you answered him, “Oh, nothing really. Your lovely twin just happened to mention that you had a very eventful potions class the other day…” you trailed off, biting back a smile as he groaned.

“Mhm and what was it that he said you smelled from the amortentia?” You poked his cheek and he closed his eyes, a tiny smile growing on his face despite his blushing cheeks. “Cloudberries…oh! And daisies, now, what was the other thing? Let me think-“ you pretended to ponder before George cut you off by pulling you down on him and pressing his lips to yours in a kiss much softer than any of the others.

“Summer breezes,” he whispered against your lips before connecting them again, “It smelled like you,” and with that his hand snaked to the nape of your neck as he pressed his lips against yours, pouring all of his feelings into it, hoping it was enough. In all honesty, now that he’d felt what it was like to love you, he didn’t think he’d ever be able to go back to pretending to hate you.

Once he pulled away you were completely breathless, however, George seemed to have more to say. “I don’t want us to go back to the way we were,” absentmindedly you brushed his hair out of his eyes, stroking the red strands soothingly as he continued to confide in you, his voice, face and body completely vulnerable to you. Something about him trusting you with his feelings reassured you that his intentions were pure and banished any notion you possessed of the whole thing being a joke, “I didn’t like it, acting like that but you were always so unbothered that I felt like I had keep one upping you,” he confessed.

“You always gave me this feeling in my stomach whenever you’d come over to the Burrow with your parents when we were little and I didn’t understand it. I just thought that it must’ve meant I didn’t like you…” George seemed to get lost in his own mind as he gazed at you regretfully, his fingers trailed the length of your spine sofly, “By the time I realised, we were both older and I suppose I just thought you couldn’t feel the same ‘cause I made you hate me,” you hummed in acknowledgment, your fingers still working his hair, keeping it out of his eyes that looked at you so intently that you could’ve drowned in them and died happy.

“But then the other night after dinner Angie slapped me upside the head and talked my ear off about how out of order I’d been—obviously I agree with her! You weren’t even talking to me but Neville was complimenting you and I don’t know… just got possessive,” he muttered the last part, losing some confidence but regained it upon seeing the little smile on your lips. “Then Ron looked about ready to push me off the astronomy tower when I saw him this evening. Blimey, I knew it had to have something to do with you since Harry was snippy too.” You had to laugh at the exhausted look on his face when he recalled your two best friends.

Mockingly, you gave him a stern look and clicked your tongue, “Well, perhaps if you weren’t so mean to me all of this could’ve been avoided,” George groaned once again, feeling guilty he pulled you even closer and buried his face in your neck.

“M’sorry,” you carded your fingers through his hair, pressing a soft kiss to his head. Your lips against his head caused him to lift his face from the crook of your neck, “Forgive me?” He asked, a cute pout on his lips.

“I’ll think about it,” you teased, giggling at the offended look on his face. George let out a dissatisfied sigh, he pushed a strand of hair behind your ear before giving you a toothy smile.

“Don’t worry, love. I plan on making it up to you.”

#george weasley x reader #george weasley #harry potter x reader #fred weasley x reader #ron weasley x reader #neville longbottom x reader #weasley twins x reader

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rainhadaenerys · 3 years

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The way people talk about Dany's last chapter in ADWD is most often very simplistic, in my opinion. I keep seeing the take that the last chapter in ADWD "reveals who Dany really is", that is, people say that "the real Daenerys" is the "fire and blood" Daenerys that is revealed in this chapter. And then we have tons of metas about how Dany "is not made for peace", how Dany can't be constructive and is destructive by nature, how Dany is "violent", how she is succumbing to "her worst instincts" blah blah blah.

Problem is, this is not how characterization works. I guess I kind of understand why people cling so much to the words Dany says: "fire and blood". It's an impactful moment. It seems really cool. It seems like this was just some huge revelation. But the problem is that, if you rely solely on flashy quotes to support your character analysis, you're doing it wrong.

Because if you don’t base your character analysis entirely in an isolated line, you’ll realize that “fire and blood” is not Dany’s nature at all. I’m going to copy here what I wrote somewhere else: Dany spends most of her chapters basically like this: “omg, how can I help my people”, “omg, I’m such a bad person because I couldn’t save some people”, “a queen must listen to all”, “it doesn’t matter what I want, a queen belongs to her people not to herself”, “what good is peace if it has to be bought with the blood of children”, “I can show them their mother cares”, “I will not abandon Meereen to the fate of Astapor”… she goes pretty overboard with this caring about people and being selfless thing. I honestly don’t think any other character gets to her level in this regard.

Not only does she deeply care about people, but she isn’t violent either (see here). Unlike what seems to be a popular belief, it’s Dany that keeps controlling her advisors’ violence, not the other way around. Dany deeply values peace, and she goes to extreme lengths to make peace happen, even when she starts to realize that peace might not be the greatest idea after all. This is not a character whose nature is violence and “fire and blood”.

Finally, people always seem to forget the context in which Dany utters the words “fire and blood” in her last chapter.

"It is such a long way," she complained. "I was tired, Jorah. I was weary of war. I wanted to rest, to laugh, to plant trees and see them grow. I am only a young girl."

No. You are the blood of the dragon. The whispering was growing fainter, as if Ser Jorah were falling farther behind. Dragons plant no trees. Remember that. Remember who you are, what you were made to be. Remember your words.

"Fire and Blood," Daenerys told the swaying grass.

Dany is not embracing fire and blood with certainty. It’s not a triumphant moment. It’s not some great epiphany in which Dany finds out who she really is. This happens in a moment of depression and vulnerability. Dany doesn’t want “fire and blood”. It’s her projection of Jorah that keeps insisting to her that this is what she was meant to be. It’s her memory of Viserys telling her what he has told her her entire life. It’s their pressure, the weight of the what they told her about the Targaryen legacy on her shoulders. But Dany argues against it. She says she doesn’t want war. She says she wants to laugh and plant trees. She only reluctantly accepts “fire and blood”, but it’s not something she really wants, it's with reluctance. She is sad. She is unhappy that she can't have peace (as you can see by her thoughts about wanting to laugh and plant trees), she is unhappy that her only path seems to be fire and blood. Dany’s last chapter isn’t a great shift in her characterization. It’s simply Dany giving in to something that she didn’t want. It’s a moment in which Dany falls into despair, not a moment in which Dany confidently embraces fire and blood. So to me, the idea that this means that Dany is turning into a villain or into some super violent person is nonsense. Her characterization didn’t really change all that much in the last chapter.

Besides, it’s not like choosing war is wrong. ADWD is full of moments that show how bad the peace was (X, X). There are plenty of moments showing us that peace might not be the correct choice. Now, does this mean that choosing war is going to be portrayed without any ambiguity? No, because it would not be realistic. Because wars cause damage and hurt people, even a just war like Dany’s. But Dany won’t be vilified because of this. Choosing war doesn’t mean turning into a villain or being an unscrupulous conqueror. And there’s no reason to believe that Dany would be like that.

#daenerys targaryen #asoiaf meta #asoiaf #valyrianscrolls #my meta

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hafanforever · 3 years

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Hello, Goodbye Dolly

In Olaf’s Frozen Adventure, audiences were briefly introduced to Sir JorgenBjorgen, a stuffed knitted puffin doll that was a toy Elsa owned in her childhood and kept as her companion during the years she and Anna were kept apart. Then when Elsa grew up, Sir JorgenBjorgen was stored away in her trunk, which was later placed in the attic.

When the prequel novel Dangerous Secrets was released in November 2020, it was revealed that Sir JorgenBjorgen had been around a lot longer than fans had thought. Over 40 years earlier, the doll was created by Queen Rita as a toy for her baby son, Prince Agnarr. Sir JorgenBjorgen was Agnarr’s favorite toy and always brought a smile to his face. When Rita fled the kingdom after having her memories wiped by Pabbie, Runeard locked up all of her belongings and anything that reminded him of her. However, he did not know about Sir JorgenBjorgen, and Gerda secretly saved it and hid it from him, waiting for the chance to return it to Agnarr one day.

Ever since I read Dangerous Secrets and learned that this doll originally came from Rita and belonged to Agnarr, I got to thinking about what Runeard would have done with it had he known about it. Firstly, if he discovered Sir JorgenBjorgen when Agnarr played with it as a child, and with this, I mean before Rita left, I have a strong hunch would have disapproved of the doll, and enough so that he would have taken it away from Agnarr.

Why? Because I get the impression that Runeard would have thought that dolls, regardless of dolls being depicted as male or female, were only for girls, not boys. Therefore, I think he would have been outraged by the idea of his own son playing with a doll. Heck, Runeard probably also would have thought that boys who do or once did play with dolls are weak and inept, and thus are not or never would be real men. If he had truly hoped to mold Agnarr into the same cold, ruthless man/king he was, then I have no doubt Runeard would have seen Agnarr as weak for owning and playing with a doll, and taken Sir JorgenBjorgen away from him.

But there’s more to it than just that; as mentioned by a line in the prologue of the Frozen II novelization and an almost verbatim line quote by Agnarr in Dangerous Secrets, during the gathering in the Enchanted Forest, Agnarr knows that his father wanted him to act like a royal figure instead of a boy. In other words, even though Agnarr was 14 and still legally a child, Runeard only saw his son as a prince rather than as a person, and always wanted him to act royally only. He did not want him to act or behave like a normal person, meaning he never wanted Agnarr to act like a non-monarch, and thus, like a child, ever.

Therefore, Runeard additionally wouldn’t have wanted Agnarr to have Sir JorgenBjorgen because he would think that owning a doll is childish and Agnarr was not supposed to behave like a child even when he was one.

However, if Runeard discovered Sir JorgenBjorgen after Rita left, I don't think he would have simply hid it away with everything else; I think he would have burned it or permanently disposed of it through some other means.

Now why do I think Runeard would go such an extreme measure, you may ask? Because it would have been a guaranteed way for him to completely deny Agnarr any memories of Rita and sever anything that tied him to her. Agnarr had said that after his mother disappeared, his father constantly scolded and shouted at him for crying and being sad about her absence. This shows that Runeard had a total lack of sympathy for his son’s sadness (just as he did for Rita when she became so depressed over missing her home) and a ruthless determination, if not obsession, to get Agnarr to completely forget about Rita.

I feel it's one thing for Runeard to have locked away all the things that belonged to or reminded him of Rita so he could forget about her himself, and another for him to immediately banish anyone who spoke her name so that his people would attempt to forget her, too. But if he discovered anything that linked her to their son? Again, based on how he coldly chastised Agnarr for wallowing in sadness over Rita when she was gone, it is crystal clear to me that Runeard wanted Agnarr to forget her, too. Therefore, he would have had Sir JorgenBjorgen destroyed just so that Agnarr would have absolutely nothing left of her.

But luckily, Runeard never knew about Sir JorgenBjorgen, and Gerda successfully hid it from him before returning it to Agnarr when he was an adult.

And then years later, Agnarr gave the doll to Elsa to keep her company during her separation from Anna.

While we have yet to know what Rita was like, what she looked like, or what became of her when she fled the kingdom, at least we know there is still a keepsake and reminder of her in Arendelle Castle. And even though Elsa is no longer the queen of Arendelle, I am hoping that Sir JorgenBjorgen will become a childhood toy for one or more Anna’s children and any other future descendants of the former queen of Arendelle.

While Runeard won’t be fondly remembered by his family due to the revelation of his betrayal to the Northuldra, what little they know about Rita will be forever cherished through Sir JorgenBjorgen. 😄😉

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low-budget-korra · 3 years

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Lets talk about Korra (again)

i already made this analysis, and it was well received but i dont know, i wanna do it again. Why not right? My english is better now than was when i made that analysis so i think this one will be better written

What a way to introduce a protagonist. This line and this scene tell us everything we need to know about Korra at that time and everything she knew about herself.

In book one Korra is a 17′s old teenager who have no idea how the world, how life is outside the training center she grew up in and had been locked up since ever. So she is not only naive but have lack of social skills

Oh, and not everyone who lack’s social skills will act like Zuko and Azula okay? Korra can be confident, expressive and outgoing and still have problems when it comes to social skills.One thing dont exclude the other.

“I’m the Avatar and you gotta deal with it” did you guys notice that only for that line we can see the entire opposite on how she treat her role as avatar in comparisson with Aang? And im not here to judge because is two very different contexts.

As far as we know, Korra grew up without friends or romantic partners. Of course, she had her training partners but i believe that they are just that.

So her entarely perception of herself was around her duty as Avatar, she didnt have personal life, she barely was Korra...She was The avatar and thats that.

So she came to Republic City, it was a mess.

Its funny to see that she have no touch when it comes to simply talk to people, i guess when you grew up away from society, this happens. And yes, she is cocky and had to learn that people arent there to somewhat please her, and she learned that quicky.

Thats why the Pro Bending was important for her character, not only for training but also as means of socilization.

Now lets talk about the villains: Amon and Tarrlok

The two of them represents two differents threats to Korra. Amon represents a threat to her duty as Avatar while Tarrlok represents a threat to Korra as a person.

In episode 4 we have what i still thinks is the darker episode from TLOK. In this episode Amon ambushes Korra in the final moments... Even knowing that they did their best to make Amon’s power and control be non-sexualized as possible still...He have her down on her knews, totally helpless and he even invades Korra’s personal space by touching in her face forcing her to look at him. He didn't have to sexually touch her to violate her.

And right after, the fear in Tenzin voice when asking what happened after seeing her laying in the ground like that, and how Korra is sobing in his arms teeling him how powerless and helpless she felt. I mean...Oh, and she keeps terryfied by him until he takes her bending.

Tarrlok in the other hand doesnt do much different from his brother and started to harass Korra because he cant take ‘no’ as a answer when Korra didnt wanted to join his task force.

Whats interesting is that if it wasnt for Tarrlok harassement and maniputation, Korra wouldnt have joined his task force and wouldnt have confronted Amon and wouldn't have gone through that terrible encounter.

The thing is that Korra is caught right in the middle of a politcal power dispute over the city, something that she for sure wasnt prepare for it. And both Amon and Tarrlok woud hurt or kill her without think twice about it if that means gain power. And that was exacly what happened

Tarrlok tried to manipulate her and keep her on leash where he could, and when his tatics didnt worked anymore he alreay had a plan B. Yes that whole metal box in that cabin in the middle of nowhere was made especifically for her and maybe Tenzin if he also get in his way.

In the end Korra lost the physical battle against both but won the ethical battle also against both. She was the responsable for expose both of them as corrupted and hypocrites. But at what price? Amon was able to remove the bends of the Avatar. And without them, how could she be the Avatar?

Remember that her entirely conception of herself was built around her duty as Avatar, be the avatar. After all, everything she was, everything she'd trained so hard for, had been destroyed in minutes. Thats why i still strongly believe that she was thinking about killing herself at the end, nobodys goes all sad and crying to in front of a clifft without thinking about jumping from it.

But she, i think given up the idea and just sit and started to crying when Aang appeared and help her, giving her bendings back in one of the best scenes of the show. So after have everything solve and still managed to get the boy she was in love with, things where great and she “move on”

In that first half, Korra is unbearable. Everything she learned in Book 1 how to be more mature, less spoiled and all, was thrown in the trash and she was the same "child" of the book one only worse.

Until I stopped and realized that I was also unbearable and childish like this when I had my bad phases of anxiety and depression, as defense mechanism and keep people away. Returning to Korra, and if this way of acting of her was nothing more than this defense mechanism?

Because guess what, i dont think she “move on” from all that happened in Book One that fast, and for add more drama she discovered that was her father idea of keeping her locked up training in that training center we saw in book one and not traveling like avatars before her. No wonder she felt betrayed. And for adding even more drama, people still keep treating her like child, so she was despered for some validation. Something that she found in her uncles arms but she was betrayed by him after.

In the end, Korra again goes through a traumatic experience when she has her connection with past lives destroyed. We see how it affected her when she apologizes to Tenzin, through tears. And Tenzin, as the excellent master he is, tries to motivate her to face Vaatu again (now merged with Unalaq, her uncle) and again she saves the day even after go throught a traumatic event

In the final moments, we see the innocent decision to reconnect the world of spirits and the world of men. And we also see Korra and Mako permanently end their turbulent relationship.

Book 3 begins in a more mature, we see all the characters being presented in a more mature way and it seems that Korra now has overcome everything that has passed. We have the relationship between Korra and Asami deepening as well

In Book 3, called "Change" we have a great sacrifice from Korra. Her life goes down a notch when she decides to save the new airbenders from Zaheer and the Red Lotus, the only villain until now that really threat her life since their sole goal was to kill the avatar.

Korra won again but this time victory costed way too much. Yes she save the day again but now she was physically and psychologically defeated. It was too much, she broke.

Book 4 begins and we only saw Korra in the final minutes and she is unrecognizable. We see that, once proud and courageous avatar, in someone depressed and cowerd. We never have saw Korra like that, even when she was afraid of Amon she wasnt like that.

Korra is afraid of being the Avatar again and her fight against PTSD is still one of the most sensitive, responsable and honest representation of Mentall Issues that i saw, and it was before this subject gain more space on media. It was before people started to give attention to this

I also think that she was having flashs from her other fights and not only the one against Zaheer.

Another thing I think is worth mention is that Korra took 3 years to feel safer and re-embrace her duties as Avatar. It was not 3 weeks or 3 months, it was 3 years. And anyone who suffers from some mental illness knows very well the stigma that is, the fight that is, because everyone wants you to be well faster as possible when the truth is that many times you spend years fighting against this. And this is a pressure that falls on you.Imagine, seeing all your friends moving forward while you continue "stock in the same place"?

Only after Korra confronts Zaheer, I think that was a way to show her coping with the trauma, she improves to the point of returning to be the great Avatar we know. I personally still struggles with this scene because put the victim in front of her agressor may not be the best idea but i understand that she needed to see that he was just a man and not the invencible monster her mind was telling her

One of the lines that stuck with me the most was in the TLOK version of the ember island players, the one that made a recap of the show before the finale. When Korra said “I was so naive” just before we watch her narration of her journey, we can feel pain, sadness and strenght. Janet was amazing in the way the delivered this line.

And this fucking quote i saw here on tumblr still is the goat: “The Last Airbender is a story of a boy who becomes a god. The Legend of Korra is the story of a goddess who becomes a girl "

And I still get really pissed when someone comes to talk shit about Korra because she is such an incredible heroine and her journey is also so incredible.

The story of how life can be hard and unfair, how it can hurt and paralyze, but there is always a reason to move on. We should always move on.

Korra is definitely not weak, quite the opposite, she is one of the if not the strongest heroine I have ever seen. Korra inspires overcoming

#korrasami #avatar korra #asami sato #mako #tenzin #bolin #lin beifong #su beifong #kuvira #zaheer #amon #unalaq #tarrlok #the legendd of korra #legend of korra #tlok #lets talk about #avatar

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silvia7272 · 3 years

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Miraculess Ladybug Salt AU: You Always Liked To Play With Fire ~ The Prologue

Hey everyone, this is a new story I wanted to introduce to you all.

I’ve been putting everything in a massive word doc because I had so many ideas and finally settled on putting it out today because it's my birthday. 29th, I may have updated it late.

Yay.

So as a special treat, here’s a new series with a few original characters, ones you know or have been changed ever so slightly to fit, in a Miraculess world. (haha, you see what I did there? No… I’ll leave)

Also for anyone new, I’m a multi-shipper so I ship my characters with a bunch of other people, as I like Lukanette (Fandom Version), Daminette (Fandom Version), Felinette (PV Fandom Version), Marichat (Fandom Version) and I guess Rosannette. What’s Rosannette? Well, I guess you’ll have to find out, won’t you? (also no that’s not a typo, it is Rosannette)

Also, I guess this will just have the usual salt, maybe more, I don’t know. I kinda want it to just be about these two.

Word Count: 3912

Note: I haven’t tagged anyone just in case, this is a different series from my other, I just got really excited and wanted to write it. If you still wish to be tagged for this story please say and specify.

Also: This is a salt story, it will have OOC moments from everyone so it will be classed as an AU. If you don’t want to read that’s fine, and have a nice day.

Well, I hope you’ll enjoy it.

This is for all the people that might prefer Rosinette (like from the songfic) instead, I don’t mind but it won’t be in my main series, so I hope this will satisfy you.

(Word of warning, I believe this will be an AU where the Miraculous don’t exist, and non-canon to my official story and I believe mentions of a panic attack might be lightly mentioned, don’t know if it is, but if someone could check and I’ll make the warning clearer that would be nice)

Summary:

(Fire doesn't exactly have anything to do with this story I just really liked the title)

Note: This book contains OOC scenes of Miraculous Ladybug as well as a ton of salt, so if you don't like that stuff you may scroll past and have a nice day.

In a world with no Miraculous, no Hawkmoth and no Ladybug, how does our little heroine do?

Well, it usually would be hanging out with her friends, as any other teenager would do...

But, of course, this wasn't normal.

This was reality. It was cold, hard and definitely not welcome.

So, when this girl wishes to have some kind of adventure in her boring, mundane life...

How long does it take for her to regret it?

***

Memories, it's such a simple word yet it holds so much meaning. One could either wish to forget everything from their life, and simply move forward so they could pursue their dreams. Or, simply relish in the past when they remembered how great it was, all the friends they had made, all the moments they had which were too good to let go.

But, I guess sometimes, you did have to let go. But let go of what exactly? Let go of all the happiness once you knew how it would end? No that would be too harsh and you’d turn bitter. Let go of all the sadness? But, wasn’t it an important life lesson to learn, sometimes, you just have to be sad because of the situation at hand. No amount of croissants or macarons would be able to lift your spirits back.

Or maybe that was too much of a specific example.

That was what Marinette had thought, staring at an empty glass so intently the man behind made himself disperse from the amount of time the unblinking woman just stared and never flinched.

She guessed it hadn’t all been bad, she at least had some form of happiness before it was violently ripped away, but part of her wondered, what would’ve happened if she never felt that type of happiness before? Would she have felt like she had for so long, was it the fact that she knew what being happy was like before worse? Because, as depressing as it sounded, if she hadn’t been as happy, would she have been as upset?

She would never know, she couldn’t go back in time since that was impossible, but the thought always came and went whenever she was alone with her thoughts.

So… Maybe it was for the best, that she was able to remember what real happiness felt like.

The tight feeling in your chest, butterflies in your stomach, face being so red anyone would worry if the bluenette had caught a cold instead-

Wait- this was an oddly specific kind of happiness she felt, surely she must’ve gotten mixed up with some other felling right?

Right!?

So, how come she was feeling this- incredibly bright heat from her cheeks when she felt a hand on her shoulder?

We may need to go back several years.

***

In a classroom in Collège Françoise Dupont, a young pigtailed girl sat at the back, tears silently falling onto her knees and bawled up fists. She didn’t see any use of wiping them away, since they would just come back anyway, and it would be useless to just repeat that endless cycle. She hadn’t looked around to see anyone else’s faces, they would either just ignore her, or taunt her for just crying, for just being human.

Now you may be wondering why she was so upset? What possibly could’ve happened to make our very cheerful and sunshiny girl become so hunched over she was practically crying her eyes out? Well, the answer lies on the one girl at the front. The one girl sitting in an all too familiar place. The one girl who just ruined all of her newfound friendships.

Lila Rossi.

And boy had she hated that name.

She couldn’t stand that smirk, that thief, that scandal!

And what exactly did she do?

She lied.

Now you may be thinking that may not have been all that bad, but it was.

Every time she opened her mouth, everyone would fawn around her, even Alix, the one who seriously couldn’t care about anything to do with glamourous celebrities, was hanging on the edge of her seat to hear one of Lila’s so-called stories. She just had to guess Lila held up a treat over her head to keep her being obedient enough.

She hated Lila so much because she was just using everyone to get an easy life at school, the fastest way towards popularity she guessed, but why she thought this was the fastest way was beyond her.

She hated Lila because she had spread so many lies, so many rumours, all about her. All so out of the realm it was such a surprise they all believed her without a shred of evidence.

It had happened so fast, one day, they were all friends, smiling and laughing like there was no tomorrow, the next, she was surrounded by those faces, those faces of disgust and hatred. As if she had committed even the worst of crimes, more so than Chloé, speaking of, who was absolutely enjoying this show.

But undoubtedly. What she hated about Lila the most.

Was that technically, she didn’t have to do that much.

After so many sessions of crying, and just not believing that they could possibly leave her, a friend, like that, she started to reason with herself, that maybe it wasn’t just Lila that pushed them all away.

She thought back to before.

Before they were friends, before Alya even came to Collège, she had been alone. Chloé had always gone out of her way to relentlessly bully her, and no one wanted to be friends with her with Chloé around. So she accepted it, just hoping one day, karma would seek justice and she’d be put in her place.

So she waited.

And waited.

And-

Gave up.

She accepted defeat after all the years. After the meaningless conversations with teachers that she should try and be the bigger person and rise above all of her hatred for her. Simply because they couldn’t do anything. They had no power over the mayor's Daughter. So they just let her continue her reign over the school.

She didn’t have any powers to stop her.

But then, a light of hope came.

The new girl, with ombre brown and red hair, glasses and hazel eyes. A striped t-shirt and an undeniable Aura that reeked of confidence.

As Marinette was being targeted by Chloé yet again, she came in, and for once, stood up to her. Chloé! No fear in her eyes as she, Alya, grabbed her, Marinette’s, hand and walked off to the desk at the front.

She couldn’t believe it, someone stood up to Chloé! She thought it had only been a myth, a legend, but that right there, it was real.

They became friends faster than the speed of sound.

And soon, she too was able to stand up for herself. Reclaiming her original seat back, and citing a quote her new friend had said… Then everyone had wanted to become friends… And, she felt ecstatic.

Finally. It finally came. The day she had prayed for had come. She felt nothing but pure joy.

And she didn’t want that feeling to go away.

She was terrified that the feeling would go away.

So, she thought of making sure that feeling wouldn’t go away.

That’s why she made so many ‘spare’ macaroons to give away, she didn’t spend her free nights staying up and making them, no way.

That’s why she provided so many free gifts to her friends. What? Her hand has a plaster, no she just tripped and hit herself, it had nothing to do with the gifts. Don’t worry, try your gloves on, do they fit?

That’s why she was late for class. Huh, no I’m fine, I’m not tired… But I might just rest my eyes for a bit, wake me up when something important happens.

That’s why she was so happy to realise Adrien wasn’t as bad as Chloé, the small gentle soul that he had, to graciously provide her with his own umbrella, how selfless.

And that’s why she held onto the idea of Adrien so much. The idea that he was perfect. The idea that she was in love with him.

So, she held onto it.

No, she clung to that idea because she didn’t want any chance to let go. So, she may have gone a bit overboard, with the whole, schedule thing, and the phone… And the schemes. But she believed it was harmless. No one else seemed to have any problems with it, so she believed she was in the clear.

Until she wasn’t.

And Lila used that to her advantage.

She remembered that day so vividly, just like all those other memories. The day she came. The day she would find herself in the same predicament from before, it hadn’t been that long since she had been friends with everyone in fact. She was still getting used to it, and her feelings grew as each day passed by.

She remembered when Lila introduced herself to the whole class, and at first glance, anyone would just think she was an innocent little girl. But behind that smile, behind those eyes, held a sinister intention.

She, in less than an hour, had everyone wrapped around her little finger.

Even her.

She’d been on a private jet?

Had a song written about her?

And saved Jagged Stone’s cat?

There was no way Adrien would fall for her now.

…So maybe she had been jealous of that girl before she had done anything. But she had every reason to. She, Lila, was pressed against Adrien who was happily talking to her. The love of her life! She had to do something, even if Alya had given her a disappointed look she just had to stop them from confessing their love to each other, it was inevitable now, so she followed after them to the park. If they even got too close, she was sure she could just conveniently interrupt, she just had to wait for the perfect moment, she only had a couple of hours before they would fall in love, get married, have three kids and a hamster named-

“Wow Adrien, you’re so nice to me. Y’know I really thought moving here would be just like all the other times. But you’ve really made me enjoy my first day Adrien.” She smiled so sickly sweet Marinette wanted to hurl, how dare she just hold onto his arm like that, so affectionately!

“Its no problem Lila, that’s what friends are for.” She smiled, hugging him so fast they almost lost their balance from sitting on the bench, before seemingly giving him a quick peck on his cheek, only for Adrien to turn his head towards her.

And they kissed.

However, it wasn’t a simple quick kiss, by all means, Adrien should’ve realised his mistake and pulled away.

But he didn’t, what felt like forever lasted a minute. One minute to realise that it should’ve been an accident. But they stayed like that.

It- it was over, wasn’t it? This wasn’t her being melodramatic, she just knew how it would turn out. They were going to fall in love so soon, she wouldn’t have a chance.

If only she had seen the look Lila gave, spotting her retreated form from behind a small trash can, the smirk would’ve given her shivers.

***

Getting back to Collège had taken longer than expected. Maybe it was the small amount of dread knowing she may have lost her love for good. Sure, there might have been Kagami as well, she had tried to sabotage her chances with Adrien too, but it always worked out in the end, Adrien always smiling as Kagami’s cheeks burned with redness. But to say they were friends afterwards.

Marinette would cringe at the fact she always felt so relieved afterwards reflecting years later at her choices. But she had always believed she would still have a chance.

Until today.

Lila came, and took him away, within hours.

And she couldn’t stop it.

Walking along the stairs to her class she had to keep her head held high, if she showed weakness, that would mean she was sad, she wasn’t sad, she couldn’t be sad. She still had all of her friends after all.

Maybe now, they could do more activities, after crying and eating a ton of ice cream of course with cheesy movies to brighten her mood up.

But, this would only be the beginning of that negative feeling.

Opening the door, she would be fully aware of something terribly wrong. At the front of the classroom, a crowd had formed, and a crowd that would soon become a routine in this classroom.

But a crowd formed around a girl, the new girl, Lila. She had seemed to be covering her eyes, water dripping down her eyes, no wait they were tears. What had happened?

She didn’t realise she had spoken those few words before heads turned around, looking- no glaring at her, why were they-? What had she done?

“Marinette I knew you could be a tad jealous but to actually do something like that” Huh? Oh no, Lila must’ve noticed she followed them, how embarrassing, and definitely not the best first impression she could’ve made.

Before she could apologise, before she could explain she really didn’t mean any harm. She didn’t have time to.

“To threaten her to never talk to Adrien again because she likes him. Well, I never thought you’d put your jealousy out like this.”

What!?-

No- she didn’t- she, just saw them kiss.

She didn’t even speak with her.

Why would she say this?

Why didn’t she say anything?

Why wasn’t she defending herself?

Why was she letting them believe that so easily?

Why

Why.

Why was it so hard to breathe?

Running out of the classroom was easier than looking at all of those faces. Those accusatory faces. She hated it, she couldn’t do- defend- explain.

She- just-

She-

She was in a room?

The bathroom.

It didn’t matter why, as long as she was alone, she could cry to her heart's content.

The fear seeped over her just like that first time, knowing Chloé had won and would never stop, she had lost and lost everything.

Everything she had worked so hard to obtain.

Everything she had worked so hard to keep.

To make sure she didn’t have to let go.

And now it had gone.

Because it was then Marinette realised. That girl, those tears hadn’t been real, there she saw her eyes hadn’t been red or puffy, the tears’ dried up rather quickly, and the inconsistent wails made it very likely she was only doing them for effect and sympathy.

That girl. Was lying!

That must’ve been it.

No way could she be telling the truth. And no way could ‘I saw her around me and Adrien’ be translated to ‘she threatened me, I’m so scared of her’

Maybe, maybe with that, there was hope.

If she could just simply convince her friends that she was lying, then everything would be all sorted.

And maybe she and Adrien-

Wait, she was getting a little ahead of herself there.

Wiping her tears away she proudly opened the door, ready to face her fears.

Too bad her fears were much much stronger.

No matter how many times she would try to prove her innocence, it became worse.

When she tried going to the teachers, they bat an eye with her responses. Obviously not taking her seriously, and just believing it to be some teenage drama, she was pushed out of the classroom and told to try and just be nicer and make friends with her.

That was harsh but expected.

She tried talking with Alya, she turned away from her. Not wanting to hear anything come out of a crazy stalkers mouth.

That had hurt.

She tried talking with any of her other friends, y’know, the ones who ‘always’ had her back.

They too turned from her. Believing Lila without a doubt, I mean, they knew how jealous Marinette could get, it wasn’t that much of a stretch to think she would jump to that, considering the situation.

That felt like a punch to her gut.

She tried talking with Adrien, even if she did stutter and always lose her words around him. But this was more important, than a silly crush.

She wasn’t used to saying that.

But, the way he looked at her, it felt like- pity.

He told her he already knew.

He already knew? Wait- then why didn’t he say anything?

Because, as the naïve little boy stood so tall and ‘innocent’ he simply wanted to help her through his own way.

“She was only lying for attention,” He said.

“Once she finally makes some real friends, she’ll stop,” He said!

“In the meantime, you should really drop this, it would be just awful if you were to hurt Lila again. After all, she hasn’t hurt anyone, she doesn’t mean any harm”

She stood in shock.

This was the boy she had fell for?

This spineless- foolish- Son of a-

“So please Marinette, don’t cause too many problems for her, you shouldn’t be so harsh on her. If you really value our friendship, you’ll do it.” He smiled before walking off, leaving her to her thoughts.

That felt like someone had walked over to her, ripped out her heart and squashed it in the palm of her hands, all while grinning.

Why, why wasn’t she able to see before? Did her heart want to deceive her by falsifying all of his qualities? Was she just blind to bear witness to him not being as perfect as she made him out to be? Was it because she just couldn’t entertain the thought of letting go?

She didn’t know, she just hated this negative feeling. It felt so familiar. She wanted it to go away.

Unfortunately, that feeling would only grow for months.

And it was about to be worse.

“Huh? Marinette? Why are you crying? If this is about what happened this morning, don’t worry, I’ll forgive you” She was crying? Huh, when did that happen?

Whatever, more importantly.

“W-What, no you don’t have to forgive me because I did nothing wrong” Lila’s worried expression faltered for a bit before she grew ‘scared’

“H-Hey, I didn’t realise you felt like that. Oh, you poor thing” Her eyebrow snapped, she seriously didn’t like being called a thing.

“Save it, I can’t prove it but I know you’re just lying to everyone here. And you need to stop, you’re going to hurt everyone when they find out. You need to confess” Her face faltered again, but it never recovered, her once innocent eyes hardened as she smirked, a look that seemed almost natural, as if she had perfected it by looking into a mirror countless times.

“Oh, so you’ve finally figured it out? Figures, I was told you were the smartest one, and it seems like I wasn’t wrong”

“What?” Lila sighed, maybe she had put too much faith in her being the smartest.

“Ugh, you’re so young Marinette. I haven’t told the truth all my life, why the hell should I start now?” Marinette was stunned, why, why was she telling her this?

“Honestly, and I thought Adrien was naïve. Look, I’m not here to play games, I have this whole routine wrapped up. So just sit back, stay out of my way and I might consider making another lie that would benefit you.” It was an offer any reasonable person wouldn’t refuse.

Unfortunately for her, she didn’t want a reasonable offer.

Marinette stared, she was- she was fully aware of what she was doing?

“B-But you’re going to end up hurting everyone, you need to stop, please!” She begged.

Lila frowned.

She was just like all the rest.

“I don’t care”

Huh?

“I said I don’t care, seriously don’t you get it yet? I’m here to win by all means necessary. You were in the way so I took you out. They are just little trophies to remind you of my victory. You had your chance”

She stood still, this situation felt so familiar, but she had to stay strong, she couldn’t give up now. If reasoning with her won’t work, then maybe understanding might, and she could work with that.

“Why are you doing this, do you really not care about when you get caught? About how everyone will feel when they know you promised nothing in the end?” She hoped she would see some sense. They were good people, they shouldn’t be manipulated into this, she was sure they would’ve been friends regardless of what she had promised.

“It’s because I can”

“What do you mean?”

“What I mean, dear sweet Marinette, is that because I am able to, I can. I’ve had years of practice with this, and the result always has me at the top, all that oppose me either stay at the bottom or beg for mercy from moi. It's always a delight to see their hope diminish. To realise they would do anything but to be alone.”

Alone- that word, that word stuck with her so much.

She didn’t want that- but she didn’t want her friends to be tricked either.

“Besides, you made it so easy for me, in reality. You only have yourself to blame”

“What- I didn’t even-” A finger was wagged in front of her face.

“Ah ah ah. You really should know better than that. A calendar full of Adrien’s schedule? A box full of presents for Adrien? Sabotaging dates? You’d think I’d have made it all up, it only made the end result so much greater. Seriously Marinette, I don’t even know if I’m the bad guy here, what you’ve done really isn’t appropriate behaviour. But I do know of a great therapist, they helped me through such a hard time” Lila continued to talk as Marinette zoned out. She was the bad guy? No- no that couldn’t be, that was just a harmless crush, that was just what normal teenaged girls did.

But- if it was. Then why didn’t anyone tell her it was wrong, she didn’t mean for it to be wrong. She just didn’t want them to leave, she just didn’t want to be abandoned again.

Why didn’t they say? Why didn’t she realise?

Why did she know?

Lila must’ve seen the shock as she giggled, not at all innocent.

“It was so easy manipulating all of them into telling me about this ‘crush’, once they realised just how crazy it actually was, they had no problem seeing you for the crazy stalker you are.” Lila flicked her hair up away, only for it to come back, but it didn’t matter, she made her point.

Not having the energy to look up, she would’ve noticed Lila had left her behind, laughing too, because no one had been there to overhear their absolutely private conversation. Her overall plan would not be undiscovered today, tomorrow, or the next. It wouldn’t be discovered ever.

Because she was in control.

Marinette, wasn’t in control.

Just like before, that hollow feeling from before, it was back.

And so much worse.

She hated Lila, because she made her realise, she was right. All along. And she just had to accept it.

And gave up trying.

She reverted back to how she was at the beginning of the year.

The quiet girl that no one paid attention to, alone, in the back, with nothing but her sketchbook.

Gone were the childish pigtails, it was for the better, no one said anything about then anymore.

Because she realised.

She wasn’t a child anymore.

She couldn’t be, not after this.

***

Hey, so I guess this was more like another prologue, so I’ll have to apologise if it seems just like the other one, but the premise is still the same so yeah.

And I think I might like the idea of a non-Miraculous world; it seems interesting since I feel like Marinette wouldn’t have as much of a confidence boost since she wouldn’t be Ladybug, please tell me that would make sense.

I think it’s interesting for how much would change and stay the same, and my OC will be making an entrance next time, however, here they are all like 13-14. The next chapter will have a time skip of 3 years, oh and Lila came in late, like around Season 3 late ok? So they already know about Kagami and Luka.

Also if you’re confused about anything feel free to ask any questions.

Cya next time.

Note: Please tell me if I should add anything else to the card, there will be one of these cards for all 15 chapters, however, because I have uni work all updates will be slower because I really need to focus on the uni stuff, then I might be able to upload quicker.

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buckysflannelpajamas · 3 years

Text

Bleeding Hearts

Summary: Being Tony Starks daughter has its pros and cons. One of the pros being you get to live with your best friends, the Avengers. One of the cons you will soon find out is having to deal with the one and only, James Buchanan Barnes...

Takes place during the imaginary time after Civil War where everyone love in the tower and goes through to Endgame.

Trigger warning: Talks of depression/depressing thoughts

Chapter 5

2nd person POV

Fading. That's how you describe the feeling when you start to stoop into a depressive episode. You can feel your emotions fading to numbness, and eventually an all encompassing emotional down. Each avenger has their own way of trying to help you through it. Honestly you want to be left alone for the most part, alone to dwell in the sadness you think you deserve. It was harder when you first decided to move back into the tower after living on your own when you had been released from the hospital. In the beginning, you couldn't even get a moment alone. But eventually everyone got into a pattern of how they help you deal with your depression.

Wanda and Vision make you baked goods. Mainly strawberry cupcakes. Wanda comes to deliver them to your room every morning, and subtly implies she will be going shopping later and hinting at you coming. It worked a total of one time. But after having a mental breakdown in the Gucci dressing room you realized it probably wasn’t best for you to be in public when you feel this way.

Steve and your dad are always the most worried. They check on you multiple times a day. Steve also draws you caricatures of avengers and writes something funny underneath them. This is the closest Steve has ever gotten to understanding memes. Tony on the other hand tries to lure you out of your funk by bribing you with a trip to your favorite Korean food restaurant in South Korea via his private jet.

Pepper sends you flowers. The two of you aren’t close and aren't overly fond of eachother. You assume she mainly sends the flowers to please Tony.

Peter constantly sends you memes throughout the day, which you mostly ignore.

No one knows where Thor and Bruce are so it’s safe to say they don't know when you’re suffering, and no one wants to call Clint just to inform him you’re sad again.

Uncle Rhodey usually finds out because Tony needs to vent to someone about his worries. What he does for you by far one of the coolest things. He has a military buddy of his hack into the computers of major entertainment companies so you can see blockbuster movies before they are released.

Natasha, who is sort of a mother figure to you though the two of you would never admit it, comes to you late at night when your insomnia kicks in. Neither of you speak, she simply sits down on your bed beside you and braids your hair while the TV show ‘how it’s made’ plays softly in the background. The two activities always help you to sleep. And on the nights you can’t stop crying, she’ll lie there with you, rubbing your back like a mother calming her child until her tears stop.

Finally, Sam comes in the moment you need it most, right when you are so tired and drained that you’re ready to open up about how you're feeling.

It’s day 3 of your depression and you have just reached that point. Somehow, Sam always knows when you’re ready.

You’re sitting up in bed, bundled up in an exuberant amount of blankets and staring blankly at the wall in front of you. Your mind drifts through a series of depressing thoughts.

Pathetic.

Worthless.

Burden.

These are the words that are most consistently in your mind.

For a moment you consider no longer taking your meds. Sometimes it feels as though they don't work anyway.

That’s when you hear the knock outside your living room door.

“Friday, tell Sam he can come on in.” You mumble to the disembodied AI, your voice raw from all the crying you’ve been doing.

“Of course, miss.” Even Friday sounds saddened by your less than pleasant mental state.

You don’t bother to wipe your tears away, you would be crying soon again anyway.

You hear Sam make his way through your front door, passing through the living area and opening the door to your room.

You notice Sam holding a steaming plate of eggs, sausage, and hash browns in one hand. He must have found out from Friday that all you’ve really eaten this week is Wanda and Visions strawberry cupcakes.

“I would have brought some OJ too but then I wouldn’t have been able to open the door.” Sam jokes. He takes a quick glance around your room, trying to gauge how bad the episode is. Used tissues cover the floor by the right side of the bed. Worn pajamas are strewn around on the floor and the pile of clothes you leave on your chair hasn’t been cleaned up. You usually clean it once a week. Not to mention your greasy hair makes it obvious that you haven’t showered in a few days.

“Pretty bad, huh?” Sam asks.

“Yeah.” You answer honestly. You don’t need to bullshit with Sam.

He takes a seat by you on the bed, placing the food in front of you. “You hungry?”

“Yeah, but-“

“But you feel like you deserve the pain?”

“You know that.” You sigh.

“Tell me why.”

“You know why too.”

Sam pushes a fork in your hand. “I’m trusting you with this.” He jokes, earning an actual laugh from you before moving on. “I have a general idea, but I don’t like to make assumptions.”

You poke at the eggs with your fork. “I-“ it’s hard to speak. You know at any moment you’re going to break out sobbing. “I feel so weak.” You choke out. “I put the whole team at risk by being naive enough to think a guy wouldn’t try drugging my drink at a crowded party. Even if it is my house.”

Sam doesn't speak yet. He always waits for you to let it all out.

“How could I be so fucking stupid?!” You sob. “I was selfish. Why do you all even keep me around? I’m a liability and a burden to the team. I hate that about myself and I hate that I’m so weak! I hate that no matter how hard I train, I’ll never be strong like any of you! And I know that that’s also selfish because you all went through so much pain to be what you are, but I can’t help but feel insignificant. I’m just some dumb fucking artist that sits around all day doddling while you all are actually doing something meaningfull in the world!” There it is. The root of what triggered your episode. It’s not just about Authur. It's about the fact that you can’t protect yourself. It’s the constant feeling of insignificance that lingers in the back of your mind.

Sam puts a hand on your shoulder and squeezes it gently. “First of all, you’re not just some dumb fucking artist.” He quotes you. “You are a world renowned artist and you should be proud of it. More importantly, you are not insignificant or a burden. Ok? If we didn’t want you around, you wouldn’t be here. We all love you and want you to be here with us. You’re part of our family. You might not be on the front lines, but you do more for the world than you know.”

You roll your eyes. “Yeah I doubt that.”

“I mean it.” Sam Insists. “You said so yourself that you know how much pain we’ve been through. How do you think the avengers would keep it together without their own little therapist.” He laughs lightly.

You furrow your brows. “Um, Sam, I’m not a therapist. I can barely keep myself together.”

“You might not be licensed but you are always there for us. Getting us to talk through our thoughts and feelings. Giving us advice and helping us come to a resolution.”

“That’s what friends are for.” You shrug.

“Yeah well friends don’t usually have to deal with their other friends' war trauma and helping them deal with finding out their best friend they thought was dead is actually alive and actively trying to kill them.”

You stay silent for a moment. “I guess that’s true.”

Sam pats you lightly on the back. “You keep the avengers sane so that we can help the world. Which is just as important.”

Finally, you take a bite of your eggs. “I disagree that it’s just important but I know that argument won’t go anywhere, so I’ll just accept it.”

“I know that this conversation won’t solve all of life's problems, but maybe it helped you feel good enough to to get up out of bed? Maybe get up and take a shower? No offense, but you don’t exactly smell like daisies.” He laughs.

You shove Sam in the arm. “Hey! You should take a whiff of yourself after you come back from a mission.”

“Touché.” Sam pauses, noticing something on your bedside table.

“Sour gummy worms? That’s not part of your usual routine…” Sam trails of, reaching over you to grab the box of candy before you have a chance to stop him.

“Wait-”

It's too late, he sees the note written in scribbly cursive on the piece of paper attached to the back of the box.

“Who’s this from?” He asks curiously, hoping from your bed and moving around as you chase him down, frantically trying to remove the letter from his grasp.

“Sam stop!”

“Dear y/n,” Sam starts to read aloud. “I don’t pity you. I relate to you. When I said I’m sorry I meant it.”

You jump, reaching for the letter but Sam moves it high above his head.

He continues to read. “I meant to tell you sorry before the party. I only blew up at the hospital because I was mad at myself for letting someone on the team get hurt. I shouldn’t have been such an asshole to you. I know it’s a lousy excuse but I was just jealous of your happiness. If you give me the chance, I’d like to make it up to you. I heard you like Star Wars. I haven’t seen the movies… maybe we can watch them sometime? Sincerely, James Buchanan Barnes.”

Sam looks at you with the biggest shit eating grin on his face. “You two got a movie date?”

You finally snatch the candy and letter from his hand. “See this is why I didn’t want you to read it! I knew you would take it that way.” You pout.

“How else am I supposed to take it?” Sam laughs.

“Like a guy with a guilty conscience is trying to be nice to the sad girl.” You say as if it’s the most obvious thing ever.

“You can be so blind to some things.” He shakes his head.

You furrow your brows. “What do you mean?”

Sam takes a seat back down at the end of your bed. “Everyone living in the tower can tell he has the hots for you.” He pauses in thought. “Expect for Tony. Barnes would be as good as dead if he knew.”

“You’ve been talking to Nat and Wanda, haven’t you?”

“And Steve and Vision.” He grins. “We have a whole group text dedicated to the conversation.”

“Great.” You groan, rubbing your temples as you take a seat by Sam on the bed.

“Look, you don’t have to believe me. But you should at least give him a chance to make it up to you. I’m not Barnes biggest fan, but he’s really not a bad guy.”

You open your mouth to protest, but Sam interrupts you.

“Just think about it, ok?” Sam gets up from your bed, making his way to the door. “And take a shower in the meantime! You stink little sister!”

You grab a pillow and throw it at him, the pillow only managing to hit the door as he closes it.

“And eat some food too!”

#sebastian stan #bucky barnes #sam wilson #bucky barnes x stark!reader #bucky barnes x reader

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oneweekoneband · 3 years

Photo

In the first cold hours of a new December morning, Taylor Swift once again revealed herself to be the primary antagonist in my hero’s journey. Weary and woebegone as I am, I will not waste strength on any attempt to deny that this latest attack has knocked me off balance, but I believe it is important that I—we, really, the lot of us who have been bloodied pitiably beneath this most brutal show of force—rebound immediately into a defensive posture so that there might be any hope at all for survival. Taylor’s second pandemic album will be released at midnight tonight, so I guess Shakespeare and his little “play” about elder abuse can get fucked after all. The album is called evermore. It was hubris, I can see in retrospect, which led me to tempt my enemy by writing all these words about her on this, the week of her birthday, knowing as I do that Taylor is one of those especially dangerous adults who make a big deal about both birthdays and lucky numbers. Icarus is my name now, covered in melted wax and tumbling to the sea. So as to steel ourselves for these horrors yet to come, I offer now, with not arrogance but the faith of the foolhardy, my best conjecture as to the content of each detestable track.

willow - Could be about a tree. Could be about a girl. More likely it is both somehow, which is extremely pervy, and not just because that’s part of the plot of the unspeakably cursed The Raven Cycle novels, which I, a full blown adult with, generally speaking, normal brain function, voluntarily read for the first time this summer because some of us, ma’am, used the pandemic for activities that hurt only ourselves, not others. Well, happy holidays, tree fuckers.

champagne problems - Whatever this is, know that I will be considering it a work after Fall Out Boy’s “Champagne for My Real Friends, Real Pain for My Sham Friends” and I’ll be right to do so and many people will say as much admiringly and they’ll smile at me with pride and doff their caps as I go.

gold rush - If this song is anything but a loving, comprehensive summation of the children’s novel DEAR AMERICA Seeds of Hope: The Gold Rush Diary of Susanna Fairchild then I’m going to walk directly out of my home and, deadly virus be damned, keep walking until I’ve entered Taylor Swift’s instead, at which point I will begin to scream out a litany of complaints at the very top of my voice, ceasing only when her security team kills me or we fall in love.

tis the damn season - Worst case scenario this is a sad Christmas song (the best kind of Christmas song) and it devastates me in the most degrading way possible. Best case scenario it’s really bad and dumb and I can live without pain.

tolerate it - Many possibilities here. Could be about white-knuckling it through a period of depression, or a breakup. Most obviously, it could be about COVID-19 lockdowns keeping us trapped in our homes, disconnected from loved ones, going slow-brained and strange, bowls piling up, and suddenly so desperate for human interaction that even memories of having drinks with somebody from Hinge who quoted Friends twice in an hour are tantalizing in comparison to the touch-starved dreamstate of staying indoors... But I kinda feel like this is Taylor replying “COPE” from on high to my tweets about how I would rather be boiled alive than have to face the existence of this record.

no body, no crime (feat. Haim) - What would be very good is if this is a homosexual romp about Taylor Swift and the one hot Haim guitar girl with the really gay energy doing a murder together a la “Somethin’ Bad” by Miranda Lambert with Carrie Underwood, but honestly, it is probably another song about Gone Girl.

happiness - Impossible to speak on this since, thanks to Taylor Swift, happiness is something with which I have no familiarity.

dorothea - Have seen chirping on the odious bird application about how perhaps this song title suggests that Taylor has written a song about Middlemarch, titling it for Dorothea Brooke, but I reject this because it implies that Taylor has read Middlemarch, which is a premise I cannot accept. Whether this refusal is out of self-preservation, being unwilling and in fact unable to face a world where Taylor Swift read and was moved to creation by the novel which was my most essential friend the summer I got dumped by a guy who I still had to work feet away from in a candle factory for another month, and about which Emily Dickinson (Emily Dickinson whose birthday it happens to be today, which isn’t to say that this means anything about anything. I am simply trying to batten down all hatches literally and spiritually in light of having been had once again by this numerology obsessed demon) once wrote "What do I think of Middlemarch? What do I think of glory.” or because I just at my core do not believe that Taylor has read a single book since Gone Girl I couldn’t possibly say.

coney island (feat. The National) : Some ungodly americana ass bullshit that is going to ruin my life. The thought of holy terror shaped like a horse girl Taylor Swift and trickster nymph in the body of a tax accountant Matt Berninger, two individuals I have allowed, separately, to cause me grievous psychic harm, having even the barest amount of one to one contact, even digitally, has made me want to peel all my skin off and put it back on flipped inside out so that I might, when I look in the mirror, see a version of myself which approximates how I feel.

ivy - Another song for the plant lesbians. That’s fine, and I’m happy for that community, but what I want to know, looking at this growing pile of songs named after women, is where, Taylor, is the song about loudmouth queen Inez, legendary gossip and, for my money, the star of folklore?

cowboy like me - Putting it as mildly as humanly possible, to slit my throat would be less cruel. I am drawing a straight line from me writing illegible sequels to perfect film An American Tail: Fievel Goes West (itself a sequel) in crayon as a toddler, to Paula Cole’s “Where Have All the Cowboys Gone?” on the radio in my mom’s two door Honda, to me everyday after school in third grade changing into the cowboy costume my godmother bought, to me at fourteen internalizing a sense of righteous indignation that would take years to even begin to outgrow when Crash beat Brokeback Mountain for Best Picture, to the winter I dropped half my classes out of fear and sickness and read paperback westerns on the twenty third floor of the college library for tens of hours at a go, to the profoundly gay episode of Supernatural called “Tombstone” which is, yes, named for the profoundly gay cowboy film Tombstone, to the inspired and revitalizing pause in “Space Cowboy” by Kacey Musgraves where she’s like, “You can have your space........ cowboy”, to Mitski’s Be the Cowboy, to the perfect boygenius cover of certified classic “Cowboy Take Me Away”, to whatever the hell this is going to be.That line is not to make a point at all. It’s just that there is a line and beside it there is me, incapacitated.

long story short - Just like all the other times anyone has ever invoked this phrase in the entire history of human beings expressing themselves with language, it is going to be a huge lie, because this woman never shuts up.

marjorie - After all that Taylor has put me through over the years, she should have at least named one of these wretched things “ellen” after my dead Sagittarian grandmother, whose birthday is tomorrow, December 11th, which is again, the release date of Taylor Swift’s second album in sixth months, but it’s probably for the best that she didn’t because you simpletons would immediately think it was an homage to George Bush’s friend Dory the fish, and therefore gay, regardless of the actual text of the song, and it’d be the “betty” massacre all over again. That being said, this is almost assuredly another horny song about some mid-century white lady. Only days ago Taylor was telling Entertainment Weekly that she’s been watching a lot of movies in quarantine, and while she didn’t name 1958’s Marjorie Morningstar starring Natalie Wood, I wouldn’t put it past her.

closure - God, I hope this one is another Kaylor classic so we can all act like complete raving lunatics online from the confines of our own plague quarters for a few days. It’s been a hard year.

evermore (feat. Bon Iver) - I’ll be catatonic by this point. Who cares?

right where you left me - Yes, in hell.

it’s time to go - Yes, TO HELL.

#taylor swift #folklore

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redxblueihateloveyou · 3 years

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I'm curious what you think the worst shipping dynamic is? And the reasoning behind it if you have any.

Thank you so much!!!

haha I do have several of those actually. I’ll include both what I think are the worst dynamics and the kind of ships that “I just don’t get why would you ship smth like that”.

1. What I actually call “a mom and a manchild”.

examples: Hatori/Chiaki from “Sekaichi Hatsukoi”, Ikuya/Hiyori.

I guess, technically there’s nothing wrong with this, if they both enjoy being this way, but firstly I just hate adults behaving like infants and I don’t think encouraging such behavior can lead to anything good, and secondly watching this just makes me uncomfortable for many reasons. And moments like when Hyori came up to Ikuya when he talked to Haru and was like “it’s too late and you can’t talk to this man, time to go home” and Ikuya went I just cracked up at this. Also when one part is basically changes the other’s part diapers, but in return gets tantrums or basically nothing or “but I wanna play with someone else tho”, it’s just a kink I do not get, like why would you want to be treated like this is beyond me.

But then I also generally dislike infantile characters, and I can’t ship smth if I don’t like both parties, so maybe bc of this. I always like the mature characters. Like even when I do know in theory that a 13 year old in reality can’t behave like Todoroki, I’m still like, I don’t fucking care, that’s the one I like xD But when 20 years old Ikuya behaves like this, I just do not appreciate it, I guess.

2. “I don’t have an identity, my identity is you or what you want me to be” category, including “my dignity flew out of the window” ones and “I just do what you do”. (I CANNOT HANDLE THIS DYNAMIC, YOU KNOW I CAN’T!!!!!!! I DO NOT WHY, BUT IT’S JUST PISSING ME OFF THE MOST OF ALL PROBABLY)

examples: Eren/Mikasa, Haru/Makoto, Natsusa/Sei from “Number24″.

Sports animes do that a lot. “The only reason I played rugby is because you played it” is a major cringe. And no, it’s not romantic. Romantic is like when you’re both passionate about this and doing this sports together makes it even better/more meaningful, that I get. Not, “I only went there bc you like it” and I’ll have what you have, I’ll do what you do. Like.. huh? You firstly a person, as in fully formed one pls, you can’t exist as someone’s trail.

Those ships always contain this one person (like Mikasa, Makoto), who are just the accessory of the other character. Mikasa’s problem is not the ackerbond, it’s her life position, she herself chosen to be Eren’s doormat. And some also find this romantic, I think, but I just hate such things. Also the truth of life: if you don’t respect yourself, your crush won’t respect you either. Just saying.

Makoto, I sincerely think, if Kisumi would be his neighbour instead of Haru, he’d be playing basketball at school lmao. Like SD has so many of absolutely terrible scenes, where Makoto just for real turns to Haru and goes “do you think I should go to the basketball club if we’re not swimming?” like dude, I’m... he’s like a walking definition of “meh” if there ever existed one. How can you do not care what you do? Like at all. This is beyond me. That’s sad. Watching him makes me sad.

I just need both characters in a ship be you know THEM, fantastic on their own, then when they’re together they become an absolutely explosive magic. It’s just a true fact.

Also there is one ship who is not quite this category, but kinda touches this theme. Ciel and Lizzy from “Kuroshitsuji”, ike the original Ciel, for whom she wanted to pretend to be a dumb damsel in distress for the rest of her life. Like fucking seriously????? You’d live like this????!!!! Fucking hell, you must really don’t love yourself like at all.

3. Humiliation isn’t my kink.

examples: Dazai/Akutagawa, Midoriya/Bakugou.

Akutagawa and Midoriya are badass motherfuckers and also wonderful human beings on their own. When they encounter Dazai and Bakugou they become sheeps. I hate seeing them like that, that’s basically it. Also humiliation is really not my kink. The whole “treat him like crap” thing. Like some things they did to them is just.. my god, I don’t like it.

Like when Dazai asked Atsushi to throw the phone moment, I literally flinched so hard watching it, I can’t even explain this feeling between the dejection and utter disgust at the fact that Dazai did it, that I felt watching it, but I fucking hated it.

4. Those who bring out the worst in each other or don’t bring out anything in each other.

All my ships literally all with no exceptions make each other the best versions of themselves, push/challenge each other to become better/brighter/happier, etc., or add to each other that piece the other was missing.

If someone makes someone feel depressed, miserable or even just simply stuck in a rut, that’s probably not it. There are some ships who just simply can’t make each other happy or even make each other unhappy and that’s a fact.

5. Ships with no development or development so tiny that you need 120 episodes and an magnifying glass to see it.

examples: I’d say, but I just don’t want those 10 year olds in my ask box again.

Hate this for obvious reasons. Because as wise ppl say “only fools don’t grow” or "if we don't change, we don't grow. if we don't grow, we aren't really living."

6. Those who are like brothers to each other and said so and don’t emmit any and I mean ANY sexual vibes or attraction in that kind of way towards each other.

examples: Harry Potter/Ron Weasley (like THE FUCK seriously), Stiles/Scott from “Teen Wolf”, Keith/Shiro.

I just cannot imagine them being romantically involved, I literally can’t. And I don’t get it. It’s like they even say “you’re my brother” thing, but also they just do not give off any couply feels and imagining this kinda make me cringe a bit, cause I have two sisters I’m very close with and their relationship remind me of our relationships so just.. no.

7. They are not each others priority. Meaning both putting someone else or something else before them.

If they don’t put each other first, I most likely probably don’t want it.

My jam is like Stucky and when they say to Steve “you do this, captain, and the whole world would think of you as a criminal” and Steve being like “fuck you, take your shield, take your idiotic hero rules, I don’t care, he matters to me more than your whole dumbass world”.

My jam is Lan Zhan who went against the whole world and a horde of stupid donkeys and fought for his baby till the end. He really didn’t care if he’d lose everything and what would other ppl think, if it meant that Wei Wuxian will be with him.

On the other hand, we have Jin Guangyao, who had Lan Xichen, but he wanted power and idiots’ love more, so he chose what he chose. Do not get this ship, like no, thanks.

As for putting specific someone else first. Rin/Sousuke, for example. I in general do not get it, but also like there are like 10 moments in the anime like in Yakusoku when Rin forgot about him, when he saw Haru during the tournament and an actual quote “Sousuke looked at Rin, who will always put Haru first”. So like... I do not get it. If you see them as a couple this is technically no good no for Sousuke, no for Rin.

8. Obviously straight ones, but “hey, I need them gay”.

I in fact just do not believe in a “straight ppl do not exist” thing. As I’ve said before there are exceptions where some characters give off the clear bi vibe, but those are pretty rare tbh. And even more rare canonically proven ones like Kanda from D.Gray-man, for example.

The moment they show some character in anime drool over some girls he doesn’t even know, but he don’t react to any of the guys like this, this just means he’s most likely heterosexual. Cause only straight guys drool only specifically after seeing random boobs. So this thing always throws me off in some ships.

99% of my ships are either canonically gay or most likely gay, but author doesn’t want to label it.

There are just lots of animes where main character/s have shown no interest in an opposite gender whatsoever like “Natsume Yuujinchou”, “Kuroko No Basuke”, “AOT”, “Number24″, “Fukigen na Mononokean”, “Tower Of God”, “Owari no Seraph” etc., but did in fact show interest in the same gender one. That I get, yes.

And btw even if you want somebody to be as I call it a “wishful bi”, I think it should be only in situations like if these characters have some absolutely wonderful/undeniable connection, not just the ship for the sake of gay ship.

_____

That’s probably it. Otherwise I’m fine, I think :D

#answered #anonymous #shipping #otp #anime #or should i tag notp xD #tbh 2 is my nemesis #I for some reason can't stand it #technically it's not THE worst per se but somehow for me it is

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stupidstuffatnight · 4 years

Text

In The Name Of My Family

Byakuya Togami, the Ultimate Affluent Progeny was nothing short of perfection. At least to himself. In his life he had to fight for that title. Now he must carry on and bear a child; as to not disappoint his family and carry on the Togami name. This was all too real for him. In the back of his mind on a regular basis, this is what he had to think of. Depressing as it may be he learned to love the challenge of it all. He will do whatever it takes to be the heir of the Togami family.

Kyoko Kirigiri, the daughter of the Hopes Peak Academies Principal, known as the Ultimate Detective. She was the most respectable girl in Togami's class. He took note of this and had to make a sort of move. They have been friends for a while, or more so mutual's so it couldn't have been difficult.

On a regular basis he sits with Kyoko and others at lunch. Togami decided to ask her out for coffee instead, just the two of them. He needed to express something important to him. At this point in their friendship he has a fair trust with her.

Walking to class where he would ask her for coffee someone waved to him. Usually he wouldn't bat an eye but this time he decided to smile and wave. If this goes well he'll have everything set for greatness. Fixing his uniform he went inside the class. Byakuya sat down next to Kyoko and shifted to face her. He wasn't going to wait.

"Hey Kirigiri. What are you doing at lunch today?"

"This is rather sudden, why?"

"I need you then of course, why would I be sitting here?"

"Yeah I could see that but why?"

"I need to talk to you about something. I can't bring it up here. Do you mind grabbing some coffee with me? Just us two."

"... sure. Can I do my work now?"

"Yeah, yeah go on." Togami stood up and went to his own seat. The person who waved at him sat next to Byakuya. They chatted before the teacher asked for their attention.

Time passes on and the bell rings. After packing up; he waited for Kirigiri so they can walk over to a coffee shop together. Once she was ready they went on their way. Not much was said since they're both not too social, however things were said every now and then.

Upon arriving they quickly ordered something and sat down at a table.

"Alright so what was this all about?"

"Well you see, I need you-"

Makoto Naegi, The Ultimate Lucky Student. There wasn't anything too remarkable about him. Everyone still respected him, despite being basically talentless. He has a sort of wit some others don't have. Not to mention some charm. Along with some of his good friends, he sat with them at lunch in the school cafeteria. He noticed Kyoko and Byakuya were missing, so he asked his friend Aoi Asahina about it.

"Hey Asahina? What happened to Kiri and Togami?"

"No clue- but I saw they both left class together! They're friends and all but I never thought of them being together!"

"Ahah I wouldn't assume right away-"

"BUT IT MAKES SENSE THOUGH! HAVE YOU SEEN THEM? PERFECT COUPLE! THEY'RE BOTH BORING AND PROFESSIONAL."

Makoto didn't bother to reply. He was pretty close to Kyoko and Byakuya so he didn't want to be mean about them. He got a lunch and ate quietly, responding when asked things of course. Nothing but trivial questions of course.

The bell rang and Makoto headed to his class. On his way there he saw Byakuya and Kyoko. They were together actually talking and laughing. However they were both a little off. Only Naegi noticed this off putting situation. He could only go along with it until he could ask about it later. For the time being he went up to them since they have a class together.

"Hey guys! Where were you two?"

"We don't need to tell you everything Makoto-"

"Oh stop being so cryptic" She snapped. "We went to a coffee shop today. I'm sorry we didn't invite you. Mr Affluent Progeny here wanted to speak to me privately." She smiled at Makoto and winked.

"Oh- oh I see! Well I guess things went well. Happy for you two- yayy." He was bad at pretending but he knew what was going on. Makoto making the mood a lot more real and cheerful, they all happily went to class. On the way Makoto wanted to ask Byakuya something.

"Hey Toags, want to hang out after-school again?"

"As long as you never call me that again."

"Eheheh alright then" he blushed slightly while laughing bashfully. He smiled brightly.

Class was boring. Naegi almost fell asleep. Everything he dozed off Byakuya would nudge him. They giggled at first and always smiled after. Class ended eventually Byakuya and Makoto were the last to leave.

Byakuya and Kirigiri were pretty stiff sitting in the coffee shop.

"I need you to be my partner."

"Need? As in you don't want me to be?"

"I guess you could say that. Let me explain. See- hmm. This isn't the easiest to say but I suppose I can't beat around the bush either. You know how me and Makoto have been rather close?-"

"You're still 'beating around the bush' or whatever but I get it. You two are interested in each other to put it lightly, and you want me to act as if I'm your partner in public. Sorry its just a little obvious since you two are always together."

"Y-yes. Apologies for asking as much of you but its kind of necessary for my family."

"Yeah I figured. How long would I be doing this? I don't plan on marrying you even if you are of high status."

"I couldn't say. Probably just long enough for everyone and my family to be convinced I'm not- um- not straight-" he cringed while saying this. It was just a weird thing to say.

"Alright but I'll 'break up' with you whenever I want." She gestured her fingers when quoting break up. After she folded her arms.

"Okay fine. Thank you- for doing this." He didn't show appreciation too often, however he did his best to show it.

"Of course. Well to make this more convincing- we should get to know each other more. After all we mainly just know each other because of Makoto. We would have just been simply classmates otherwise."

"Heh yeah. Where do we start?"

They got to know each other. More of less to their dismay. As they don't care to just go in detail about themselves to just anyone. They walked to class and decided it was time to play pretend.

Leaving with Makoto. They went to a park. They found a section no one really goes to. After looking around for a second they sat down on some grass under a tree, and held hands.

"I knew you were going to ask her, but it would have been nice if you told me when!" Makoto pouted.

"Awww sad? Jealous maybe?" Togami raised a brow and just teased Makoto.

"Oh shut up you would have blown up if I did that!" He punched Byakuya's arm playfully.

"Heh yeah I guess. You're too nice, even for me... Kinda weird to say though since I AM the Ultimate Affluent Progeny." He buried his compliment with his last comment. As if he is going to outright admit anything. Makoto never caught the small praise of course and just laughed at the last bit. Byakuya followed after.

They spent the afternoon constantly talking and having a good time. It was tough having to pretend in school, but for now it was nice. Living in the moment as much as they possibly could.

I wrote this at 3am on a whim and I got lazy half way through. I've like never written fan fiction before so I hope this is alright. I just wanted to make a quick thing, so if some things seemed rushed that's why.

#naegami #makoto x byakuya #byakuya togami #togami byakuya #dr togami #danganronpa #dangan kin #byakuya x makoto #trigger happy havoc #danganronpa trigger happy havoc #fan fiction

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salemroleplayhq · 3 years

Photo

❝The loneliest moment in someone’s life is when they are watching their whole world fall apart, and all they can do is stare blankly.❞

MEET…

Jillian Swann

Age: 30

Birthday: August 20th, 1991

Gender/Pronouns: Cis female, She/Her

Hometown: Salem, MA

Length of time in Salem: All of her life, except for the 3 years in which she was away for college and seven months in a mental health facility

Occupation: Freelance Artist & Muralist / Bartender at Rockafellas

Faceclaim: Laura Harrier

THEIR STORY

tw: mentions of major depressive disorder, anxiety, postpartum depression, suicide attempts, fire

An only child, since infancy Jill most closely resembled her mother, though the resemblance didn’t stop there. Her mother was also Jill’s namesake — Jillian — but to avoid confusion the nickname ‘Jill’ or ‘Jilly’ were the names deployed most often to give her a better sense of individuality. She was raised with little austerity. Her mother was a high end jeweler and her father was a therapist. She had a double bed adorned with silky materials of the highest thread count, took long hot showers in the mornings and lavish baths in the evening. Pressure was put on maintaining an orderly appearance. Manners instilled, always. With strict guidelines to be followed within and outside the home — she was a child, thereby she must listen to those above her. Their daughter was to be seen and not heard, not to speak unless spoken to. Whether or not Jill’s quiet disposition is a result of her parents’ ingrained teachings, or if it was in her nature to begin with cannot be determined for certain. To avoid any unnecessary conflict, Jill was cautious never to do anything reckless that would put even a single strand of her hair out of place.

Her family may have been affluent, but even though technology installments were in abundance around the house — from cable TV to being given a personal iPhone at nine years old — she always showed an inclination toward more tangible forms of entertainment. More often than not her spare time would be occupied with long-winded outings to the library, teaching herself embroidery or knitting projects or skipping rope tricks. As an only child, her imagination became her closest companion. Inventiveness kept her boredom at bay, but it also made it impossible for her mind to ever be a peaceful and silent place. She took a liking to fiction and poetry books and art the most. She was thrilled by the way the right set of words could miraculously make sense of the big feelings she felt but didn’t dare speak about. She thrived off of what was obvious; the practical and evidential. Situations with a clear cut beginning and end that couldn’t be mistaken for something else. With art, she was able to embody everything that she had felt inside — what words couldn’t appropriately convey. ‘I don’t belong here. Nobody wants me. I don’t feel normal.’ Accordingly, nothing frustrated her more than having no idea where to begin when dealt with something that wasn’t so readily apparent or visible ( more often than not this equated to one category only: her feelings ). Winging things wasn’t her style — planning and perfect organization was. With poetry and art — with the attractive rhythmics of prose, and the curved painted brushes — she could suddenly adapt to any moment, turning anything that felt too overwhelming into something small and manageable ( destroyable, even — much of her first personally works ending up shredded or burned in the fireplace ). It was a comfort to find that even if an explanation didn’t exist, she could simply make one up herself by inking it down on a fresh piece of paper. This was a hobby she kept private, though she was passionately devoted to it. Each night filling a page or two, whether in a notebook or a sketchbook, until every few months she had a full book and had to start a new one.

Growing up Jill was very level-headed and had a natural talent for leadership. She was never boastful or power-hungry, but taking charge of chaotic situations came like second nature to her. She wasn’t shy of being in the spotlight, not because she ever wanted the attention but because she sought to benefit the bigger picture always. If there was a recognizable error she’d often be the first to analyze it without a bias to intervene with her perception, making her able to step in to adjust it until perfect form was achieved. She was considered mature for her age by most of her superiors — teachers and parents alike — never giving way to thoughtless impulses and seemingly unable to be offended. A teenager who possessed a gift concerning genuine empathy and kindness. Jill and her ego seemed to exist on opposite sides of the spectrum. Critique and praise rolled off her back one in the same. She was a quick learner, always eager to have new content to peruse. She loved questions, for there was always an answer. It was safe territory. As curious as she was in pursuits of knowledge, as a whole she was very reserved and well balanced and not at all spontaneous. She became a safe haven for many of her lost high school peers, but nobody had ever seen the deep inner turmoil she had wrestled with all of her life; that emptiness, that sadness, those thoughts that told her she wasn’t good enough. Despite being plagued by anxious voices, she tried to push on, at times self harming when it felt like it was too much.

When it mattered most, art saved her — especially after the fire. She was a creative through and through, but it was the self portraits of a woman losing her mind that allowed her to look at herself in a completely different light. Though she tried not to think of it much ( she couldn’t remember what exactly had happened even when she consciously tried ), Jill was unsure if she was relieved to have made it out of the fire. To her own life, she was apathetic. Yet, when she finally met Lachlan she had put up a good front — “thank you,” said with a warm smile that failed to reach her eyes; she had recognized him from their school, “for saving me.” As a result, she fell more into her creativity and further away from the her peers. Jill’s artistic talents were obvious to anyone on the outside looking in, expressed in her handiwork in her talent for choosing attractive fashions and creating hair styles at the girl’s sleepovers. Indeed, Jill had a great talent for styling clothing, sewing and braiding her friends’ hair as well as any professional hair stylist. But it was a duty rather than something she felt in her heart. The need to look pristine, whispering urgent nothings at the back of her head. Writing and painting was what she truly longed to do, but making a profession out of something anyone who could hold a pen or paintbrush could do seemed impossible.

Once Jill honed her ability, she began to submit her work into local competitions. Being able to be a freelance artist as a job seemed far fetched, but it was all she enjoyed spending her free time on — using real people as her subjects, sketching what she really saw, and uploading her work in the hopes that it would sell. The inspiration fueling each canvas was endless.

Taking two years to herself after graduating high school — allowing herself to build up various art equipment, a growing portfolio, and history of recurring clients that helped spread her name around — at 21, for the sake of improved credibility, it was with bated breath and hardened determination that she finally felt she was prepared enough to dare to apply to local universities offering a BFA degree in art. When Jill received an acceptance letter from FIT, it felt like an affirmation the direction she was headed wasn’t purposeless. Though usually careful about keeping her emotions withheld, she couldn’t help be feel thrilled at having seemed to have found her true calling.

Until three years into her studies. The stresses of college had overwhelmed her, and she found herself swallowing a bottle of pills in her sorrow. When she awoke, she had been back in Salem, her mother by her side — and Jill had turned her head, letting the silent tears flow down her cheeks out of shame. Moving back with her family had been hectic. Her deep depression and suicidal thoughts lingering but she had promised her parents that she would never hurt herself again. Instead, she spent her days in various forms of isolation, to locking herself in her childhood bedroom for days, to sitting on the balcony quietly nursing a cup of tea. It was the first time that she had purposely avoided writing or drawing.

As all things, with time was supposed to come healing. Over the years, Jill kept up a regular notebook habit despite how pointless it seemed — it was a freeing outlet that calmed her anxious thoughts. Within those pages she catalogued original writings as well as jotting down lyrics, sayings, quotes, and eavesdropped phrases she heard whilst out and about. Clearcut beginnings and ends were her favorite thing. Anytime the she was confused or disturbed by the people around her, she’d retreat to process it silently on a page. Unless she was at work around those her age, she was surrounded by adults. Neither were particularly easy to make sense of, so many a notebook went filled. Though she still managed to maintain her “Jill of all Trades” persona for her relatability and kindness, people had still spoken about her as the deeply troubled young woman as a result.

Her depression left her deeply afraid, and she became somewhat of a recluse most times because she couldn’t bear the whispers. Then she met Gabriel, an older man who had stopped in Salem for business, and it had changed everything. The casual fling began and ended without much fuss. It was a stress relief, nothing different than the glass of wine or smoke she ingested when particularly stressed. Jill preferred living alone, in all aspects. Romance was never appealing, neither was having to belong to someone, or adhere to any sense of domestic behaviors. Long term relationships were foreign territory for her simply because of her deep depression, and it was always a relief to find someone on a similar wavelength. A couple months after their fling drew to a close, Jill found it wasn't as easy to shrug off as past exchanges when she discovered she was pregnant. Something within her knew she wouldn’t abandon the life growing inside, even if it threw off every perfectly crafted plan she had.

Nine months later Jill was the mother of fraternal twins, Gabe always by her side. For a while it seemed like they could make it work out — a possible bond and a growing love for each other. Then the postpartum symptoms had hit, and just like that, their blossoming relationship was thrown right into the garbage after Jill had attempted to take her life once more in the midst of a breakdown. Having been sent to a mental facility some ways out of town immediately after, Jill has just come back to her hometown after seven months — desperate to heal.

PERSONALITY

+ empathetic, personable, creative

- stubborn, perfectionist, naive

Jillian is played by CLEM.

#jillian swann #f #all #oc rp #town rp #city rp #lsrpg

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mrs-hatake · 4 years

Text

i guess i’m just a playdate to you

Pairing: Kakashi x Reader

Genre: angst

Warning: mentions of character deaths, open and ambiguous ending.

Word Count: 2825

A/N: aaaanndd i’m back with more angst! this is inspired by a kakashi edit on tiktok by alyez_ and i LEGIT got all teary eyed after watching so i just HAD to make you guys sad as well lmao.

p.s: Y/E/C = Your/Eye/Color

p.s.s: not proof read

They say that time heals scars but the person who came up with that obviously never lost the person he loved and cherished the most for if they had, then they wouldn’t have said such a careless thing.

You were strongly reminded by that quote as you stood amongst hundreds of Konoha villagers in anticipation for Kakashi’s coronation as Konohakagure’s sixth Hokage.

Everyone had been surprised by the news but they were happy to have such a strong and responsible man as a leader, to no longer feel weak and unprotected but safe and even feared by other villages. Everyone was excited for this day.

But not you.

You were saddened by this.

Suddenly, those around you cheered and applauded as loudly as they can as Tsunade, the former Hokage, stepped onto the podium to address the villagers with a formal goodbye.

Your heart squeezed tightly once your eyes spotted Kakashi standing in the distance, face hidden behind his mask but his eye held no emotion in them.

There was a lump in your throat and you tried to swallow it away but your throat was as dry as sand paper, making it painful for you to swallow.

Tsunade’s words fell on deaf ears as tears filled the corner of your eyes and, without even knowing it, you were pushing yourself out of the crowed and somewhere far away from the coronation. The last thing you heard was the crowed screaming and cheering as Kakashi stepped onto the podium next to Tsunade.

You’ve been walking for hours. How much exactly, you weren’t sure. All that you knew was that your feet were moving for a very long time and soon you found yourself along the outskirts of the Naka River and the sun setting into the horizon, painting the sky in brilliant shades of red and oranges, reminding you of that special day you don’t think you’d ever forget.

It was the day of Rin’s funeral and everyone had gathered to bid the young Kunoichi goodbye.

Although you were a regular civilain and didn’t understand the severity of the loss or the sacrifice she had made, you understood the tragedy the village was facing, especially your childhood neighbor Hatake Kakashi.

Kakashi had wandered off towards the end of the funeral and didn’t bother to stick around for the aftermath of the event.

Knowing how much Kakashi had suffered and the people he had lost in his younger days, you bit your lip in worry as you set off to find him.

Eventually, you found him sitting on a cliff overlooking Konoha, the sun was setting in the distance and it cast the village in an orange hue.

The young boy had his knees pulled up and pressed to his chest while his chin rested on his arms atop of them.

You were positive that there were no words that would comfort the boy so you did the next best thing, you sat next to him with your arm around him and listened to Kakashi as he silently cried.

A tear escaped and rolled down your cheek at the memory but you quickly wiped it away and continued in your aimless walk.

There were rustling sounds coming from one of the bushes in the distance that made you stop in your tracks, your heart beating loudly in your ears in anticipation. Holding your breath, you slowly inched forward and was startled when a small white rabbit jumped from within the bushes.

Your shoulders sagged and a shaky exhale escaped your lips. The small white rabbit stared at you in curiosity, it’s small red eyes blinking up at you.

You offered the harmless creature a small smile but it jumped off deeper into the forest. You watched after it and remembered an early morning similar to this encounter.

When Minato and Kushina died, the entirety of Konoha were in mourn. But no one experienced such a great loss like Kakashi. Right when things were finally starting to get normal and Kakashi had the opportunity to experience what having a loving family was like, his parental figures die, one in battle while the other after giving birth.

Your eyes never wandered off of Kakashi as you followed him through the woods. You knew that Kakashi would run off faster than the speed of light if he wanted to but you were glad that he was allowing you to be close to him. Though, that didn’t mean you didn’t worry over the boy.

He had just returned from evacuating the villagers into safety after the sudden attack of the Kyuubi when the former Hokage had informed Kakashi of Minato and Kushina’s deaths.

Kakashi had no reaction. His eyes didn’t well up with tears, he didn’t let out a cry of anguish, not even questioning the Hokage. He just accepted their deaths and walked out of the office.

You had run into him as you were helping your father clean up your mini market when the silver haired teenager walked by. Your eyes lit up and you were about to greet him with a bright smile but when you noticed his hunched form and his hands buried deep into his pockets, you knew there was something wrong.

You quickly ran off to catch up with Kakashi and when you were within reach, you griped his shoulder and turned him around to face you. The sight that greeted you shook you to your core. His eyes were filled to the brim with tears and his cheeks flushed a deep red color. His mask was soaking wet at the never ending tears cascading down his cheeks.

“They’re gone.”

Harshly, you rubbed your eyes to will the memory away.

You’ve known Kakashi since you were a little girl and for as long as you’ve known the silver haired man, he had always been stalked by tragedy. Wherever he went, whomever he had cherished and valued, tragedy would clutch its greedy fingers on them and snatch them away from Kakashi. It happened with his biological parents, his best friends and then with his parental figures.

It was too much for the teenager and it made perfect sense why he ended up joining ANBU.

“You can’t be serious.”

It had been two weeks since Minato and Kushina’s deaths. The village of Konoha continued on with their lives while the third Hokage returned to his rule.

It was early morning and you were manning the cashier at your father’s mini market. It was a slow and boring day with nothing to entertain you other than a trashy Shinobi magazine with a ‘Top 10 list of the Hottest Shinobi in Konoha.” clutched between your fingers.

It was so quiet that you were about to fall asleep when the door opened and the bells signaled the arrival of a new costumer. Your sleepy expression turned into one of joy as Kakashi walked in and stopped in front of you.

“Kakashi!” Your lips turned upwards into a bright smile, “What can I do for you?”

The teenager said nothing, his hands deep in his pockets, as his eyes scanned the shelves of chewing gum and cigarettes behind you.

“I’m joining ANBU.” He said simply. His voice so quiet that you were certain you misheard him.

You were a civilian and you didn’t know much about the Shinobi world but everyone knew of ANBU. Knew the excruciating and intense training Shinobi went through in order to be masterful and be higher in ranks.

Your smile faltered, “I’m sorry?”

Kakashi’s visible brown eye met yours, “Danzo recruited me to join ANBU.”

Before you could say anything else, Kakashi had turned around and exited the market, leaving you in a stunned daze.

Quickly, you snapped out it and followed after Kakashi.

“Oi, Kakashi! Wait!”

But the boy continued on walking.

Angered, you ran up to him and took hold of his shoulder and forced him around to face you, “What are you doing?”

Kakashi avoided eye contact and said nothing. Your angry aura and the hurt in your eyes ineffective to him.

“Are you seriously joining ANBU or are you playing some mean joke because it isn’t funny.”

“I’m serious.” His eye met yours and you were surprised by the harshness in it. Never in your life had Kakashi looked at you that way. It was so sudden and unfamiliar that you dropped your hand from his shoulder and took a step back.

“It’s dangerous.” You whispered and all that Kakashi could do was shrug his shoulders at you.

“I can handle it.” He said in his quiet, monotone voice.

“You could die!” Your voice grew louder, as if it could somehow explain to Kakashi how stupid joining ANBU was.

He said nothing though and slowly blinked at you.

When you had nothing else to say, Kakashi turned around and walked away.

Tears rapidly filled your eyes before they rolled down your cheeks as you watched Kakashi walk away from you and, possibly, never coming back.

You hadn’t seen nor spoken to Kakashi for the next twelve years after that day. Your entire routine was thrown out of loop as you lost sleep worrying over Kakashi and fearing for his life. You became so depressed that you couldn’t continue working in your father’s mini market and almost dropped out of school had it not been for Gai who visited you one night to inform you about Kakashi’s well-being. You remember breaking down in his arms, relief suffocating you at knowing that Kakashi was alive and well.

You didn’t get to see Kakashi until your second year as an elementary school teacher for the civilian children of Konoha. It happened by accident really. You were tidying up the class and preparing for the day’s lesson plan when you had spotted the taller and stronger looking man through the window.

His face was still hidden behind his mask and his right eye was still hidden from sight. He was followed by three children who all had different hair colors; one girl had long pink hair while the two other boys had blonde and black hairs respectively.

His appearance stunned you into silence and you would’ve left the classroom to follow after the man had it not been for your students walking in and announcing their presence.

The second time you saw Kakashi was another coincidence. School had been let out early and you didn’t feel like going home just eat. Instead, you went to Ichiraku’s Ramen shop for lunch.

“I’ll be sure to drop by again!” You called over your shoulders, a melodic chuckle escaping your lips, when you suddenly bumped into someone.

Large hands strongly gripped onto your shoulders to balance your footing and to prevent you from falling, “I’m sorry! I should’ve wa-”

Brown eye met Y/E/C in a startled yet dumfounded expression.

“-tch where I’m going.” You trailed off.

Seeing Kakashi up close was messing up with your head and your heart was beating so loud you feared that it would stop.

“It’s fine.” His voice was deeper but it still had the quietness in it. Vaguely, you remembered Kakashi’s father having a similar tone of voice.

“Hurry up, Kakashi! You’re paying!” The shouts of a blonde boy sitting on the barstool interrupted your thoughts and the two of you jumped back.

“I should go.” Kakashi stated and rubbed the back his neck.

All you could do was nod your head and watch him walk into the ramen shop. Something deep inside of you told you that won’t be the last time you’d run into the most powerful Shinobi and you could feel a small smile crawl its way across your lips in anticipation.

Things between you and Kakashi were great. Your friendship rekindled and your bond grew stronger than ever. However, Kakashi still kept his distance. And, as an adult and having heard of the risks of the Shinobi lifestyle, you understood and accepted Kakashi’s cautions, especially knowing what kind of childhood he suffered.

And when tragedy struck again with one of his students (you eventually learn as Sasuke) took off with a dangerous rouge Shinobi, you were there for Kakashi.

You were even there when Naruto left Konoha to train with his mentor and Sakura interning for Tsunade, and comforted Kakashi during his loneliness.

And right before the beginning of the Fourth Great War where Kakashi had snuck into your apartment and begged for you to stay safe and wait for him, his brown eye wet with unshed tears, you did as your told and sealed the promise with a kiss to the cheek.

So it made no sense for Kakashi to return to apartment one day after the Great War with his expression resembling the very same one when he had told you he was joining ANBU.

You already knew Kakashi was going to say something you weren’t going to like by that expression alone and you were already shaking your head ‘no’ before he could even say anything else.

“Y/N, listen to me-”

“No!” You shut your eyes tight, not wanting for whatever it was Kakashi was going to say to come true.

You heard him deeply sigh through his nose and soon felt his strong arms wrap around you, “I’m sorry.” He whispered softly into your ears, in hopes to calm you down, “But I’ve been chosen and they need m-”

But you didn’t want to hear what Kakashi was saying so you walked away from his embrace, “I need you!” You spat harshly, tear streaks on your cheeks.

“I was there for you. During everything, not out of obligation but out of love and you left me to join ANBU. That broke my heart, Kakashi, did you know that?”

The silver haired man didn’t. He said nothing as he watched you run your hand through your locks of hair, making it appear messier than its usual kept style.

“I was alone and depressed. I was scared that i would never see you again.” Teary Y/E/C met his briefly before looking away, “And when I finally moved on and things became normal, you’re back in my life as if nothing happened.” You chuckled humorously.

“And I was there for you when your kids left, I was there for you when literally died, even if only for a couple of minutes, and I waited for you during the war. And when it was finally over, when I thought that we’d finally live our lives like everyone else and finally be together, you want to throw all of that to be a Hokage!”

You were panting and your eyebrows furrowed in sorrow. The tears stopped falling but your cheeks were still wet. “I would be fine if you said you’re going to be Hokage and I could be there for you a-as a friend - maybe something even more if you’ve ever felt that way towards me - but you tell me that you can no longer see me.”

It wasn’t meant as a question, though Kakashi answered nonetheless, “To keep you saf-”

“I don’t give a shit!”

Silence met your ears and once you were able to calm down, You had asked Kakashi to leave.

That was a week ago and you haven’t seen Kakashi until earlier today.

When your feet halted their movements, blood staining the soles of your feet and your toes in pain, you finally stopped walking at the end of Naka river.

The sun had completely set and the forest was eerily quiet. You weren’t sure how far away from home you were though, you didn’t care. You just wanted to be as far away from the ceremony as possible.

Sitting down on the grass, you wondered how differently your life could’ve been if you had run into Kakashi outside of the ramen shop. Would you have fallen in love with a civilian that you’d eventually marry? You’d probably have at least two of his kids by now running around your tiny little home. Would you have let them join the Academy if they had asked you to? Probably not.

Maybe you and Kakashi were never meant to be. Your love from your childhood well into your adulthood could’ve been one sided after all. Though, there were moments where you believed Kakashi loved you as much as you did. Maybe not during his childhood but you’ve seen it in his adulthood. The way he’d look at you when you thought you weren’t looking, those brief touches and him always visiting you after returning from a dangerous mission. You were positive that he loved you when Kakashi had been to your apartment and told you to stay safe before the Great War all those months ago.

Exhaustion settled into you and your eyes soon grew droopy. Resting against a tree, you entertained your mind of thoughts of Kakashi retiring from the Shinobi life and spending the rest of his days with you as you welcomed the cold embrace of sleep.

#kakashi x reader #kakashi imagine #kakashi hatake x reader #kakashi hatake imagine #kakashi scenario #hatake kakashi scenario

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lyrazehedgieboiii · 4 years

Text

Legacy

Yo, hedgie squad! I’m back with another quick one shot that I found in my Ipad, and decided to post it here! So, what inspired me to write this is the word ‘Legacy.’ Hamilton constantly repeated the same word throughout the musical, and he defined it in such a unique way. And I quote “Legacy...what is a legacy? It’s planting seeds in a garden you never get to see... I wrote some notes at the beginning of a song someone will sing for me,” - The World Was Wide Enough; Act Two

That made me think about Sonic. I try not to think of a Hamilton crossover with Sonic, because Hamilton ends up cheating on his wife, and I can’t imagine Eliza’s pain go to Amy. Although Amy definitely fits the part of Eliza, I just don’t want to feel their heartbreak, as that’s what fanfiction does to me. I thought:

“Sonic doesn’t seem like the type to settle down, but he would need his legacy to be passed on to the future, for any villains that may rise when Sonic passes. What if he asks the woman most dearest to his heart to bear the son of Sonic the Hedgehog?” That’s right, folks. The foreplay and aftermath of how his legacy passes on. There is no lemon in this, but rated M for mature themes. If you want the more ‘mature’ version, I’m currently making it, and it’ll be on my Wattpad.

It was a summer night, and a thunderstorm had just passed Amy’s humble little cottage in the meadow, the sun peaking out from the dark clouds above. A 26 year old Amy Rose had opened up her curtains, smiling at the sight in front of her. It was Sonic. The sun’s rays were shining above his head, creating a halo in her innocent jade eyes. After watching him slowly approach her door, she realized that he was coming to her house.

She opened it to reveal a royal blue hedgehog with long blue quills. He wore a scarf, Amy personally didn’t think it was appropriate for the weather they were in. He wasn’t the only one to have grown. She wore a mature dress, a little tight, but that’s what makes her look like a woman, Rouge told her once. She had also grown her quills out as well. She smiled genuinely, Sonic doing the same. He slowly walked in when Amy moved to the side for him. They stood there, beside the closed door, the windows showing that the sun had become even more brighter. She decided to speak up, seeing as the awkward tension was rising.

“...Wow, it’s not everyday we see the hero of Mobius walk into the abode of his number one fan...” She had hesitated, but Sonic could clearly hear a faint joking tone.

“I like to think of you as good friend, but if you wanna go along ‘number-one fan,’ I’m not stopping ya.” Sonic could see the miniature glint of sadness appear in her eyes upon being called his best friend, but she covered it up with her cheery demeanor.

“Just tell me what you’re here for?” This time, he heard her mature voice, something age gives you along the path of life. She smirked as she said it, but Sonic was not here to joke. He sighed.

“I’m here to ask you a very big favor. If you need time to think about it, I’ll let you do so. Please, just hear me out.” Amy’s smug smile had faltered, wondering what he would ask of her.

“What is it?” She asked, leading him straight to her living room. They both sat down, side-by-side, eye contact never breaking. There was a different type of tension this time. It wasn’t awkward, it was the type that raised the mood and emotion within the two people to the point it started to show externally.

“I’m growing old.” Sonic simply stated, wanting to give the message to her slowly, but also fast enough so she could decide what her answer would be. Amy laughed, the tension only staying within Sonic. He couldn’t help but smile, the sight of Amy laughing brought a fluttering feeling to his heart, a feeling that only she was able to access.

“Is that all? Of course you’d be growing old, silly! It happens to everyone!” Amy chimed. She got up to get him something, before she was pulled back down gently by her waist, something that surprised Amy.

“I mean...soon enough, later on, I might die. I could die any day, and no one would be able to pass what I worked so hard to build. What we worked so hard to build. A world where everyone is safe.” He looked up to find a confused Amy.

“I...I’m afraid I don’t follow, Sonic. Are you dying?” Amy questioned him worriedly. Sonic shook his head in denial.

“No, Amy. I meant...I need someone to continue to be a hero once I’m too old to do anything.” Amy stared at him, trying to understand.

“Why don’t you ask Tails? He’ll continue being a hero!” Amy told him.

“He’s 22, Ames. He’s not that far along.” The corner of his mouth turned upwards, but quickly went back to a straight line. He sighed again. “I mean...I need a heir. Someone with my blood to continue on, fighting any villains that come to his world. What if Eggman also has a descendant, but no one knows about it? I need a child, someone with my speed to continue on.” He explained. Amy understood, but wanted to hear the favor being asked directly from his lips.

“What are you asking of me, Hedgehog?” She stood up, and put her hands on her hips. He stood up as well, stepping closer to her.

“Be the mother to my child, Ames. It’s your dream, right? Well, it’ll come true! I want you to give birth to my descendant.” Sonic took her hands in his own and his eyes pleaded her. She could never get herself to say no to those eyes. Hell, she wouldn’t say no anyways.

“Th-This isn’t a j-joke, right? You’re serious? If you’re kidding I’ll never forgive you!” Her eyes showed the same pleading look as his. He smiled, bringing her in to embrace.

“I’d never play with your heart like this, Amy. I’m serious about every single word. I want you to be the one that gives that special motherly compassion to my kid.” He whispered in her ear, seeing she was shorter than him. He felt his chest become a bit wet, and he pulled away to find that she was crying.

With a smile.~

He smiled too, leaning down to wipe her tears away with his thumbs. Gently, he tilted his head and slowly brought his lips onto her glossy pink ones. A lot was spoken in that kiss, something along the lines of:

“I love you...”

“I love you too. I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you earlier.”

“I really do care for you...”

“So do I, I want you to know that.”

“Don’t run away this time, just tell me if you’re going to run.”

“I won’t run away unexpectedly, I’ve fulfilled my boyhood fantasies.”

They broke apart, absolutely no lust featured in those deep pools of green, one pair showed happiness to no end, the other showing slight satisfaction to how happy the jade pair was.

“So, that’s a yes?” Sonic asked, one hand on her cheek, the other on the small of her back.

“It was always a yes, Sonic. I’m surprised you even had to ask.” Amy giggled. He brought her in for another kiss, and another, and many more throughout that night.

The next morning Amy had found out that she was indeed pregnant with Sonic’s child. Or children, but they didn’t know that yet.

Sonic stayed by Amy the whole time while she was pregnant, and restricted her from even thinking about battling Eggman, although she had gotten away with it many times, resulting a strict lecture from him. She ordered sound proof ear plugs, put them in and Sonic wouldn’t notice that there was anything in her ear, while she closed her eyes and listened to his muffled voice.

He dealt with her mood swings, knowing that they were normal, but couldn’t help but feel a bit annoyed when she gets all irritated when he tries to touch her, but also gets clingy and depressed when he just goes out for something like buying necessary groceries. On Amy’s second month, she allowed him to sleep with her, but she seemed to get up a lot to go to the bathroom, but Amy assured Sonic that it was completely normal.

On her sixth month, her pregnant stomach really started to show. Everyone could see that it was not fat, but a perfect circular bulge. It was obvious she was pregnant. She was forced to tell everyone about what Sonic and her did. They were all happy about it, and congratulated them. She had a baby shower that only their friends knew about. They received many gifts, most of them being unisex, some being gifts for girls, some for boys.

Amy knew that with her symptoms, she would have more than one baby, and was worried about Sonic. How would he react to that?! He showered her with love, and made her feel special, because she was. As Amy’s stomach grew, she started to feel self-conscious at how she looked, and how she did basically anything in front of Sonic. Sonic noticed her behavior changed to all nervous and stuttering when he was in the room, and was afraid that she was feeling stressed out. After all, stress was bad for the baby...well, babies. He rushed back to their house, quickly looking around for her. He found her in the bedroom, looking at herself in the mirror.

When she closed her eyes, Sonic quietly walked up behind her and wrapped his arms around her, taking in her scent and beauty. He didn’t understand what she was so conscious about. She was gorgeous in his eyes.

Wait.

Not gorgeous.

Perfect.

This woman has fought off and has become friends with countless amount of enemies.

This woman always wears a smile on her face, even when things are going absolutely terrible for her.

This woman knows how to make everyone happy, even if it means she has to sacrifice her own.

This woman happily agreed to birth the descendant of Sonic the Hedgehog.

Just by looking at his eyes, Amy could tell he was lovestruck. Completely, and utterly lovestruck. The sweet everythings he whispered in her ear at night were enough to get her content and energetic self back.

Next came her last month. Any day now, she would give birth to Sonic the Hedgehog’s children. They weren’t just his children, but her’s too. Her water broke just as she she was cooking something for lunch, she felt something wet. She screamed Sonic’s name, who was luckily in the dining room, chowing down on a chilidog. He ran her to the hospital immediately, and stood by her side as she gave birth to three healthy baby boys. Amy apologized to Sonic over and over again, but Sonic cut her off with a kiss.

“What are you apologizing for?” He asks, as he holds his youngest in his arms, cradling him a bit.

“This was more than one baby!” She exclaimed, but before she could open her mouth, Sonic’s mouth was on her’s again.

“So? I may not be showing it, but I’m really happy that I have more than one kid. I’m a triplet too, you know.” Amy smiled. She looked the two bundles in her arms, kissing their foreheads. Sonic knew he had made the right decision. Of course, she wouldn’t let him name any of the kids “Sonic Jr.” They all looked like Sonic, although the oldest looked a little more indigo, and the middle child had a few royal purple highlights and Amy’s bangs. The youngest had Amy’s eyes, but otherwise, he looked exactly like Sonic.

They named them from oldest to youngest. Flash, Dash, and Blur.

They would carry on his legacy.

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