#up until now at least. i feel a redemption arc coming for him

[drinkthemlock]

alright now azevedo (fake álvares) is not just a bit of a cunt he is straight up the villain of this novel.

[extrashotodepresso]

Endeavor X Fem!Reader

To Hell With It

Warnings: SMUT 18+ Only , Minors DO NOT INTERACT, sex pollen, unprotected sex (again, don’t do this irl), questionable consent, cringy, office sex

Reblogs and comments always welcome. If you have something hateful to say, keep it to yourself. I write purely for my own enjoyment and post just in the event other people like cliche cringy smut just as much as I do. I know Enji is super shit through most of MHA, and a lot of people just hate on him in general but let’s be real- if we don’t let fantasy characters have redemption arcs, what hope do real people have?

Summary: Enji is hit with a sex pollen quirk and you, his assistant of 5 years decide to help him through it.

“Y/L/N.” The speaker on your desk rang out suddenly, causing you to jump. It was your boss and the nation’s number one hero, Endeavor. “Come to my office. Now.” His voice sounded odd—as clipped and dominant as ever, but obviously different.

He had been strange since returning from today’s patrol, covered in sweat and dashing into his office without so much as a greeting. While he wasn’t typically friendly; he would normally offer you, his head assistant of five years, a casual nod in the least. With a sense of urgency, you rushed away from your desk to go to him.

When you opened the doors to massive office, your eyes were immediately drawn to him. Endeavor was behind his massive mahogany desk, pacing and panting, his hands threading in his hair over and over. He finally stopped as you entered, spreading his arms out on his desk, brooding and clearly tense.

For a moment, you admired the hulk of a man, eyes raking over his broad shoulders and almost 7 foot frame. He was still in costume, though not using his quirk, an unusual sight while in the office. The lack of flames licking across his face made the large scar on his chiseled face stand out even more. Your heart skipped for a moment like a fan struck schoolgirl despite your increasing concern.

“Close the door.” He abruptly commanded you. You obliged, shutting the heavy door as quietly as possible before approaching his desk like a frightened animal.

“Is… everything alright sir?” Your voice was strained, careful.

“I need you to do something for me.” He reached into his desk, pulling out a small red business card. He slapped it down, covering it with his hand and holding it still for a moment before he slid it across the desk, refusing to look you in the eyes. As you got closer to grab the card, you noticed a single bead of sweat roll off his forehead, landing on the wooden surface beneath him with a sizzle. He was quite literally burning up.

You looked at the card with trepidation.

“Call the number. Have them send someone immediately.” You looked down at the card in your hands; it was simply designed, a phone number with ‘Hero Escort Service’ written in bold black ink at the bottom. “Obviously, no one is to know about this.”

“An… escort sir?” You swallowed, not being able to look at him as your heart fell to the pit of your stomach.

Over the past five years you had looked after Enji Todoroki. Everything in his life he needed, you provided. You had been the one to arrange the paperwork for his divorce, had made him almost every meal when he needed to eat, arranged meetings with his children who seldom showed, ran all his errands and… you had been stupid enough for fall for him. Not that he had any idea.

He didn’t respond.

“W-why?” You managed to stutter.

“I didn’t call you in here to ask questions.” His voice was uncommonly stern with you. “Just do it (Y/N).” Yikes, he used your first name. A pregnant pause erupted in the room; your mouth feeling dry as you struggled to grasp the concept.

“No.” You managed to say with finality.

“Excuse me?”

“No.” You finally tore your gaze from the card in your hands, looking to Endeavor with pleading eyes. “Not until you tell me what’s going on.” The words you wouldn’t speak hung in the air silently… This isn’t like you.

You realized now, that’s exactly why he was asking you. He couldn’t—not with as prideful of a man as he was—debase himself like this. The question was, why was he asking you to?

“(Y/N). I will not tolerate your insubordination in this, or any other matter. Call it.” He lit the flames of his quirk as if to intimidate you. You didn’t falter.

“Something’s wrong.” You said, ignoring his display. You stiffened your posture, staring him down with all the strength you could muster. “I never question you, sir. Just this once, I need to know. Why are you doing this?” He looked you up and down, as if appraising you and there was something behind his eyes that made you tingle. He seemed to consider your question, you could read that he was debating wether or not to disclose something.

“I got hit with a quirk. This is the cure. Handle it or I will find someone who can.”

“What kind of quirk needs…” you trailed off, then, as if against your will your eyes dragged down his body, down his hero suit and you noticed the sizable tent in his pants. “Oh.” You swallowed, though your mouth still felt quite dry. He offered no additional information and for a moment, all that could be heard was the sound of the crackling of his quirk’s fire.

You looked at the card again, then turned the phone on his desk to you. He watched you with interested eyes but still said nothing. You dialed something frantically and waited for a response, taking off your suit jacket while you did.

“Yes, this is (Y/N) (Y/L/N). Inform the security team to clear the top floor and enter into lockdown. Yes, just this floor, all other levels are to remain operational.” A pause. “Immediately.” Another pause. “Exactly. Endeavor is not to be disturbed, this is a direct order. Thank you.” You hung up the phone, trying to hide the fact that your hands were shaking.

“What are you doing?” Enji asked with interest and a little frustration. “I thought I told you-“

“You told me to handle it.” You quipped back. “Even if I call now, they’re not going to send someone here in time. These quirks just get worse until you… feel better, right?” You raised a brow. You had learned about sex pollen quirks in school. In most cases, the symptoms just get worse until the individual affected has sex to completion. Trying to fix it themselves wouldn’t even work, which is why there were agencies specially designed for heroes with this type of predicament. But you weren’t going to allow your Endeavor to degrade himself like that.

“… Yes.” He was still panting, looking over your body with a heavy swallow. He must’ve felt worse than you realized, judging off of his tensed muscles and desperate tone in his voice. How long could he possibly hold on? “But I-I can’t- not with you.”

You ignored the fact that that last bit tore your heart into a million pieces. The man you loved was in physical pain, your feelings hardly mattered right now. (Besides, you thought to yourself, given that sentiment this opportunity may never come again.)

“Please, sir…Enji.” At the sound of his name leaving your lips he moaned. “Let me help you.” You began to unbutton your blouse, looking into his eyes as you did. This was in a way embarrassing, would he be able to tell how you felt by looking at you? You chewed the inside of your cheek. You heard a feral sound emit from deep inside him as the opening of your shirt exposed your bra underneath.

“(Y/N).” He said, as if in warning. You finished removing your shirt, allowing it to fall on the floor and slowly began unzipping the back of your skirt.

“I promise, I’ll do everything I can to please you- just… let me help you, Enji.” I’ll do anything, but please don’t let it be someone else. Your skirt fell to the floor and you stepped out of it; leaving you standing before him in nothing but your underwear, stockings and heels.

He made his way around the table and just as you were reaching for your bra clasp he grabbed your arm to stop you.

“(Y/N).” He growled and the sound made your stomach flip. You looked into his eyes. His eyes were searching yours for any hint of hesitation though he found none. “I- If you stay in here like that I’m not going to control myself and- and I don’t want to hurt you.” The words came out in a broken whisper. He was shaking, clearly holding back his last ounce of self control. “Anyone but you.”

You ignored his plea, instead standing on the toes of your heels as you grabbed his face and gave him a searing kiss.

It was the kiss you had wanted to give him on your very first day. The kiss you had wanted to give him the first time he patted your head and told you you had done a good job. The kiss you had wanted when you saw him sitting alone in his office, staring at his phone with agony on his face as he desperately wished to fix his past. The kiss you had wanted when you were terrified he would be killed by the Nomu, the kiss you had wanted every single day after when you were just happy to see him. Your Hero, your Endeavor, your Enji. You hoped every ounce of that feeling could be transferred via skin, that with the crude brush of your lips he knew what you were desperately trying to say.

The way he returned your kiss you thought he might. You quickly became a clash of tongues and teeth, sloppy unhinged kisses driving you absolutely insane. You managed to pull away for a moment, the two of you panting.

“I promise… I can take it.” You kissed him a little more gently this time, feeling him groan into your mouth. His back shivered as you looped your arms around his chest, gripping for purchase wherever you could find it.

He lifted you off the ground, his tongue probing your mouth desperately as you tried to keep up. Wrapping your legs around his waist, you moved your grip from his chest to his shoulders, your hands moving over his neck and your fingers in his hair. You bit his lip, pulling it into your mouth with a gentle suck and he stuttered and growled. The violence of the sound shook his body and vibrated yours and you practically purred at the feeling.

“I’m going to destroy you, princess.” He let out in an animalistic warning. He shoved you onto his desk, using his hands to knock everything onto the floor before he pushed you down. You whimpered with the force of it as your head hit the desk, your legs were still wrapped around his waist and he ground himself against you, the bulge in his pants causing enough friction to make you gasp.

He kissed you while your mouth was open, tongue delving into your mouth attempting to swallow you whole. You were the one shaking now, desperate for every bit of what was coming. His lips seared down your throat, he let the flames of his quirk die out and you felt the scratch of his stubble searing your neck and chest as he travelled lower.

He grabbed your bra by the front, causing your back to arch off the desk towards his chest and he used his quirk to singe it off of you, the fabric giving way as he snapped it off your body. The sudden movement stung but you didn’t notice as his mouth hungrily attacked your right breast. His right hand grabbed at your left, massaging the tender flesh as he continued his oral assault. You arched further into him, panting and whimpering pathetically as your legs squeezed him harder.

He left your breast, licking down your stomach, using his hands to spread your legs off him while he lapped at your flesh. He landed a harsh nip at your hip as he kneeled on the ground. You shreiked and felt him smile into your flesh as he continued lower.

“It’s almost like you planned this, princess.” He mumbled into your flesh, his kisses and bites moving across your thighs and toward the apex of them. “It’s like you’re wearing these just for me.”

You knew what he was referring to. The very expensive lingerie set he was ruining was in fact from the Endeavor fan line; you had rushed out to buy them as soon as you saw their release announced and you hated to admit it, but the navy blue lace set was your favorite to wear to work. The thought of dressing for him and having that as a secret not even he knew was a guilty pleasure for you.

“I am.” You managed to gasp out as you felt his thick fingers caress the fabric. “It’s all for- you!” The last admission you might be embarrassed by had your thoughts not been otherwise occupied as he moved your panties to the side and shoved a finger deep into your unprepared hole. “Fuck!”

“Already so wet- what a naughty girl you are for me- if I had known…” whatever else he was about to say was lost as he brought his other hand down to singe off what was remaining of your underwear. The heat on your skin caused you to flinch, the sudden jut of your hips shoving his finger in deeper. Without warning his mouth landed on your clit, beginning an unforgiving assault with his tongue while he curled his finger deep inside you.

You were already close to snapping and he had just gotten started. His tongue felt like heaven, you swore you felt him searing his name into you. You hoped he was. Your hands gathered into his hair, your hips bucking into his face. When he inserted a second finger you looked down, as you noticed his starved eyes searing into you, watching your reactions to him you immediately came, clenching hard around him as you shook with a scream. He pulled back, watching you unravel and drip all over him. Enji let out a dark chuckle.

“Now I see why you told them to empty the entire floor. So loud- am I making you feel good, princess?” You let out a pathetic whimper at the use of the nickname, trying to shake your head yes- god you wished your brain wasn’t so blank, maybe you could tell him—“Well don’t forget, you’re here to please me, princess.” He pulled his pants down, allowing his massive raging red member to spring free. At the sight of it, your eyes widened, you tried pathetically to squirm back- there was no way—“Ah, ah ah-“ he tutted condescendingly. Now standing, he gripped your open thighs and dragged you closer to him, you could feel wetness of your own slick beneath you on the desk spread over your ass. “You promised you could handle it, and good girls don’t break their word.” His smile was dark and you felt your pussy clench at his words.

He held his cock in his hand, pumping it languidly and you wondered if this quirk he had been hit with was even that bad. He had an amazing sense of control-you had always heard that sex quirks made people go into a desperate frenzy, but the only person who seemed affected like that was you.

Enji dragged the underside of his cock along your folds, your poor overstimulated pussy quivered at the sensation.

“Hope you meant it princess- would hate to break my new toy as soon as I got it.” He muttered to himself as he lined up with your opening and began to push inside. “Fuck- (Y/N) you’re so- too- f-fuck-“ he stammered and you saw his control slip for a moment before he rammed himself all the way inside you. You yelped in pain from the suddenness of it, never had you had someone so…

“S’big” you whimpered weakly “S’too big Enji-“

It seemed he didn’t hear you as he began thrusting at an unrelenting speed. His arms braced themselves at your side, his eyes rolling to the back of his head as he pounded you without compassion. Even the desk began creaking at the severity at which he was fucking you. He curled his body in closer, intolerably hot breath in your ear as he continued.

He had lost all control. He was grunting and whining and whimpering and repeating your name like a mantra, losing himself completely within you. You couldn’t feel pain anymore, just Enji. His crushing weight on your body, the heat rolling off him in waves, every vein of his cock dragging along your most sensitive spot; he was sending you hurling toward another release at breakneck speed.

“F-f-fuuu-“ you couldn’t even complete a single word. So this is what they meant by fucked dumb, huh? What the fuck had you been missing all this time?

He suddenly pulled out of you, leaving you to pathetically whimper at his absence.

“Enji- please-“ you quietly sobbed out. He grabbed your thighs again, using them to flip you over onto all fours on his desk, forcing your knees beneath you and your ass in the air before he thrust into you again.

“Gonna make you mine-“ he growled, and his voice was all you could hear. “Gonna mark you, gonna fill you up-“ this new angle had him impossibly deeper, you could feel him splitting you completely apart over his length.

“P-pleeease!” You finally managed coherence with a pathetic plea. The sound that came out of him was like a surprised sort of pleasure, like he hadn’t expected you to be so eager at the idea.

“You’d like that slut? Huh? Want me to fill you up with my cum? Hm?” When you didn’t immediately respond, he unleashed a quick but effective slap on your asscheek, forcing your dumbed out brain to process his words.

“Want all of it- please- please daddy~” his hand came up from your thigh and to your throat; not choking you but holding you up and arching your back to him as he turned your face to look at him. He looked into your fucked out eyes, seemingly trying to convey something to you in his stare before he settled on kissing you again.

He dragged his tongue along your lips, continuing his thrusting as he kissed you with a juxtaposed tenderness. You tried your best to kiss him back, but your lips were moving stupidly against his, the angle of your head uncomfortable and your hips doing their best to keep up with him taking up most of your attention. He curled his hand just a bit tighter around your throat and you exploded; flashes of white blinding you as you clamped down on him, your body spasming wildly as you lost yourself in him.

“Fuck- I’m cumming-“ he growled in your mouth as you felt a burning hot release inside you, rope after rope of cum filling you up. He fucked you through it and you felt his essence weeping around his cock and down your slit, collecting on the table below you.

Holy fuck this was glorious.

He didn’t stop kissing you for a moment, if anything he became more impassioned, biting and sucking your lips and tongue as his hips stuttered inside you. Even as his movements slowed, the kiss continued, slowing down but never stopping. When he realized you needed to breathe, he kissed the side of your mouth, your jaw, your back, and finally stilled inside you. You slowly collapsed down onto your forearms before allowing yourself to fully melt onto the table, cheek pressed to the cool surface while you tried to catch your breath.

You felt him soften a bit inside you but he refused to pull out.

You were a panting, drooling, dumb-fucked mess and when you felt him nibble at your ear the sensation distracted you enough to not hear whatever it was he just said.

“Huh?” You managed, dimly. He finally left you, gently rolling you back over to face him and allowing you to lie fucked out on the desk below him.

“How. Long?” This time he punctuated the words with kisses to your cheek and stared in your face waiting for an answer. His hand came up to your face, thumb stroking your cheek gently.

“How long what?”

“Don’t play stupid with me, (Y/N).” He growled and glared down at you. You knew what he was asking but smiled despite yourself as you replied;

“Whatever do you mean Enji?” You chewed your lip, your previous feeling of confidence and ecstasy dissipating rapidly. He refused to repeat himself so the two of you simply stared at one another awkwardly. “I told you, I just wanted to help.” You tried to cover. He had told you before any of this that he wanted it to be anyone but you, how could you possibly admit how you felt now?

“I know you do.” He said, with sudden certainty. “So answer the question before I have to punish you.” His cock twitched against you as if reminding you of his capability to do so. You instinctively bucked into him again, the overstimulation of you both causing the two of you to gasp.

“You know I do what? Enji, I do everything for you. Wouldn’t it make sense for me to help you with this too? Why would there be an ulterior-“

“You love me.” He clarified, not willing to tolerate your stalling anymore. “How. Long.”

You swallowed, suddenly feeling more exposed than ever. Ironic, really, considering what you had done.

“How long have I been working here?” You cracked a broken smile, feeling utterly pathetic.

“Five years, sixty-one days and fourteen hours.” He answered without hesitation. Your eyes widened as you studied his expression. What had been a stern gaze had become a soft smile, if not a little sad.

“There you have it.” You admitted. You both sat in the pregnant silence for a while.

“To hell with it.” He said, as if he had just decided something. He leaned down and kissed you again, with a gentle tender passion that slowly grew. You eagerly returned the kiss, feeling his length harden against you and his arms creep around your torso.

He pulled you up to a seated position- he picked you up and moved you to the couch in the center of his office. He laid you down gently, reaching over your head, feeling for something through your kiss until you heard a click. He had reclined the futon so it laid flat to give you both more room. You smiled into him, it was weirdly considerate and a little romantic of him.

You pulled at the hem of the top of his costume- wanting there to be nothing between you and he readily obliged. After doing so he brought your legs up over your head and peeled your stockings down one by one. Clearly, he felt the same. He removed those and your heels gently, and your skin prickled at his soft and careful touch.

This was certainly different.

You pulled away from the kiss, suddenly distracted by your own thoughts.

“Wait- I thought- has the quirk not worn off?” You were a little out of breath already again, his tender kisses were dizzying.

“It has.” He returned his lips to yours, slowly moving his hips back to adjust his angle before slowly pushing himself back inside of you. You gasped into his mouth as he began to make actual love to you, your brain slowly losing out to the sensations of pleasure.

“Enji-“ you moaned into his mouth.

“You’re mine now, (Y/N). I’m never letting you go.”

You spent the next several hours having a soft, gentle love making marathon. By the end of it, you simply passed out in his office, you wouldn’t be able to stand anyway.

He sent away for someone else to bring you some clothes; after all his secretary was busy at the moment. She would be for a long time.

[fracturediron]

I haven't really had any standout favourites amongst the DFF characters and I don't really ship any of the canon ships in the usual sense (i.e. no obsessive brainrot, although I'm enjoying them all from a narrative perspective). But the bombshell that was ep 9 has finally made me latch onto a character. This guy:

Although not I think for the most common reason that has caused Tan/New's surge in popularity i.e. being Non's avenger. Because man, New is so much more than that. This kid is a hot mess who's lost everything he holds dear, filled with guilt for failing Non and then his family, seeking answers, revenge, redemption and now has nothing left to lose. I'm so here for it. New's character and his arc is just fucking fascinating to me. Kudos to Mio for playing it so subtle until now and then knocking it out of the freaking park for ep 9.

This kid was the golden child of his family and favoured at least by his mother, and yet clearly felt the pressure of those expectations.

And then! And then! His and Non's whole deal makes my brain buzz. I love me some tragic siblings with a yawning emotional gulf in understanding between them; of a relationship lost or a closeness that never quite made it, of a relationship of two brothers endlessly set against each other and damaged by their parents. A relationship where he failed Non in a litany of little ways by not being there for him, and one always inevitably overshadowed by the comparisons their parents made between them both.

And when Non disappears, New is overcome with guilt! For failing him, and for not being able to be there for him, and so he resolves to find out what happened to him. And he fucking commits to it! This guy throws away his scholarship, his life in England, to fucking redo highschool and infiltrate the gang of kids who bullied his brother! For two years, he hung around with these people pretending to like them and lied to his parents, only to have nothing to show for it and to lose even more when his mother kills herself, his father disowns him and then does the same! This shit would break the strongest of people (and I'd argue something in New is broken now) but he still finds it in himself to kickstart the plan that will bring hell down on these kids.

This kid has lost everything, and is clearly at a place of desperation and despair. But he's still not giving up. Even in the face of ruination and perhaps his own destruction, I feel like New will keep going on regardless if it means finding out what happened to Non. He'll do whatever it takes, burn the world, immolate himself, if it means making that happen.

I think ultimately, I love that New's a tragic, complex character who's been ruined by life and by his own doing, and through ruination, has come out of it unhinged, perhaps even something worse. Someone haunted by the ghosts of his lost family, by his failures and his guilt. Someone with so much potential for further tragedy, who'll likely destroy themselves relentlessly chasing his end goal and end in misery.

TLDR; I love me a haunted, broken, unhinged, fucked up li'l guy.

[moonlightspencie]

isn’t it?

Description: Years after the battle at Hogwarts, reader runs into an unlikely old friend. A simple invitation to tea leads to much more.

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x fem!Reader

Warnings: alcohol consumption, slow burn babyyy, draco talking about traumatic events in the hp series, me being an american writing about folks in the UK (do not come for me),

Word Count: 10k

A/N: im a draco apologist, what about it. anyways, he gets a redemption arc in this. they’re like 20-23 in this. also had to make my own gif cause most malfoy girlies are 14 year olds from tiktok & don’t appreciate tom in his 20s. logging off forever now

check out the playlist!

Winter was one of my least favorite times of the year because of how horrifically frigid it got. I was never a fan of the cold months. At least not when it was so cold that my fingers would be numb from standing outside for a couple of minutes.

But, it could also one of my most favorite times for the days like this one.

I stepped into the bookstore, glancing around in the soft lighting at all of the cheery decor. They hadn’t yet taken down their Christmas decorations, so twinkling lights were still wrapped around the bookshelves. Snow fell gently outside, making the warmth inside that much more cozy.

I walked around the small shop, looking up and down various shelves until I found the section I was looking for. I started sorting through the various history books, picking out a few that piqued my interest. I slid down a little further, stopping only when I saw that I was encroaching on a stranger’s space.

I turned my head, making sure I hadn’t already gotten too close, when I saw a familiar, bright, blonde head of hair.

“Malfoy,” I breathed out.

His head turned quickly, wide eyes searching for the person who had accidentally called his name. They somehow widened even more when he recognized me and muttered my name, more to himself rather than as a greeting. I found myself walking towards him almost on instinct.

The last time we’d seen each other was years prior. His father had called his name from across the ruins of Hogwarts to join them. He’d stood still and unmoving, up until the point his mother’s voice finally convinced him. He glanced at me briefly before he walked away from the rest of us, and I had assumed I’d never see him again.

We always had a complicated relationship. Even more, it seemed Draco had very complicated feelings about me.

We were friends, for all intents and purposes, but it was a secretive kind of friendship. He was a Slytherin, from a very prejudiced family, and was quite frankly a bully much of the time. I was a Gryffindor, friends with Potter, and though I was a half-blood, I didn’t care for the idea that blood purity had any say in the value of a wizard. That had caused some tension early in our friendship before I knocked a little sense into him. Though, it still caused some problems for us. Especially after his parents heartily disapproved of me in our fifth year.

We’d been friends for nearly a year at that point. He had, rather foolishly, decided to introduce me to his parents over holiday, assuming they would also be willing to love me despite my disdain for blood-purity ideals. We’d left in uncomfortable silence, and, soon after, Draco had explained that his father had instructed him to stay away from me.

Of course, he hadn’t listened.

We still spent time together when we could, even when I’d begun to notice his increasingly tired eyes and gaunt state of being in sixth year. He never let me find out what the matter was until it was too late, however.

I hadn’t seen him after the night Dumbledore was killed until the battle at Hogwarts. Now, I was seeing him in a bookshop in London. A muggle bookshop.

“What…” I started, unsure what to say now. “Wow. It’s good to see you.”

He was silent, staring back at me in shock.

“I’m sorry, um, how’ve you been?” I asked.

He cleared his throat. “I’ve, uh— Fine. I’m fine.”

“What are you doing here? In London, I mean?”

“Searching for something to read,” he said, the ghost of a chuckle leaving him.

“In a muggle shop?”

“Uh, yeah. Yeah, I know, it’s probably strange to see me here.”

“It’s strange to see you anywhere. It’s been…”

“… A long time.”

I nodded in agreement. He looked down at the books in my hands.

“I see you’re still interested in muggle affairs.”

“Yeah,” I agreed, looking at my books. “After leaving Hogwarts I wasn’t really interested in becoming an auror anymore, so I started writing. I do a lot of writing for wizards interested in muggle history. I generally write a lot of magazine pieces, and I’m working on a book now.”

“Wow,” he said with brows raised. “That’s incredible.”

“Thanks. Are you doing anything… I don’t know. Like, for a job?”

“No. That was never really on the table for me, anyways, with my family’s—“ he sighed. “You know. All of that.”

“Right,” I nodded with half a smile. He’d always been raised with the idea that he’d be living off of the generational wealth. “What are you looking at here?”

“I still need hobbies, so I’ve taken up a lot of reading. Muggle fiction books have been particularly interesting to me lately.”

“Huh. Never expected that to come out of your mouth.”

He raised his brows quickly, nodding along slowly. He looked back to the book in his hands.

“They tend to think that witches are evil, mythical creatures. They also don’t believe that giants or dragons or werewolves exist. They’re all viewed as freaks to the muggles,” he said, looking back at me. “Most of the time, we’re all seen as the villain in their stories.”

I shrugged. “Yeah. Everyone sees things differently. Usually the hatred comes in when they don’t care to learn about people who aren’t like them.”

He swallowed, looking down once again.

“I’m beginning to realize that much more, now.”

We both went quiet for a few seconds as a question was formulating in my head.

“Would you like to come over to mine for some tea?”

His eyes snapped to mine. He furrowed his brow, obviously not expecting the invitation.

“Really?”

I nodded. “Of course.”

He just stood there, unmoving like I was going to burst out laughing at him at any moment. He watched me with wary eyes, not responding.

“If you want to,” I added at last. “I don’t want to pressure you.”

“Uh, that would be nice. Yes.”

“Okay. Um, I’m going to go buy these now.”

I held up my books, then turned for the register. I finished after a few minutes, lingering near the door until he followed after with his own bag.

“So, where you do you live?” he asked as we walked out into the cold.

“Guildford. In Surrey.”

“How do you usually—“

“Take my hand,” I said, holding out my free hand.

He switched his bag over to the opposite hand, putting his cold one in mine. In a flash we were on my street. He looked up at the street lamps that were starting to turn on as the sky dimmed slowly. I let him take in his surroundings for a moment.

“Ready?” I asked after a beat.

He looked at me, snow sticking to his eyelashes.

“Ready,” he confirmed.

We started forward on the sidewalk, heading in the direction of my building.

“Are you still in Wiltshire with your parents?”

He nodded. “Yes. Though, I don’t see them much anymore. I’m usually out for most of the day if I can help it.”

“You don’t get along much anymore?”

He shrugged. “They disagree with a lot of my choices.”

“I see.”

We stepped into the foyer of my building, walking up to the third floor and wandering through the hall until we got to the door of my flat. I suddenly turned, his brows raising slightly as I looked at him.

“I feel like I need to tell you that I don’t live anywhere particularly… Special.”

“I don’t mind,” he shrugged.

I nodded, a small smile on my face as I unlocked the door.

It felt strange to have anyone in my flat, let alone someone I hadn’t seen for years after they’d betrayed my friends and myself. Usually, I only had over a few very close friends every few weeks. I wasn’t exactly prepared for company, and I felt that it showed as I pulled down two mismatched mugs. He lingered in the kitchen with me, looking entirely uncomfortable, his hands repeatedly clenching and releasing as if it would relieve whatever anxieties he was facing. I gave him a soft smile after setting the mugs on the counter near him.

“This cabinet here,” I started, pointing at the one next to the oven, “has all the teas. You can choose whichever one you’d like.”

He nodded, moving forward towards the cabinet as I filled the kettle with water. I set it on the stovetop, turning it on. He nervously looked through the various tea flavors for a few more seconds, then turned to me.

“Which one would you like?”

I looked at him, noticing that he hadn’t picked for himself yet.

“Are you asking in earnest, or do you need a recommendation?”

His cheeks flushed slightly as he gave me a small smile.

“Both.”

“I’d love an earl grey. I’ve got one that has some lavender in it as well, and it is delightful.”

He nodded quickly, pulling down two tea bags.

“That sounds nice.”

I smiled to myself, a little out of sorts at how polite he’d become. We waited in a strange kind of silence until I heard the water beginning to bubble in the kettle. I pulled it off the heat, filling the mugs Draco had popped the bags into earlier. He looked at me curiously.

“You know,” he began, pulling my attention to his amused face, “you’re supposed to wait until the kettle whistles.”

I shrugged. “I prefer to get to it before it starts up. I’m almost never too busy to have to listen to that horrible whistling.”

He laughed softly, nodding his head in understanding. I led him to the small table in my kitchen, and much to my surprise, he took the seat next to me rather than across the way. It was quiet for a minute or two, neither of us really sure what we were doing in my kitchen together.

“Can I ask something?” he blurted out.

“Sure,” I replied with a nod.

“Why did you invite me here?”

I shrugged. “I thought it might be nice to talk. It’s been a long time.”

“But I haven’t spoken to you since… You know. What’s the use in trying to talk to me now?”

“You agreed, didn’t you?”

He smirked, but it was a more gentle kind than what he would usually pull back in the day. Not full of cocky disdain for others, and more a way to tell me that I’d bested him with the simple phrase. It was nice.

We sat quietly for a few more minutes, each sipping our tea. I suddenly realized, only after inviting him into my home, that I had no clue what to talk to him about. I let out a soft breath, looking at him to find him already looking in my direction. I gave him a soft smile that he returned. Though, it quickly fell, and the both of us tilted our heads down again.

“I’m sorry,” he said suddenly, “for leaving that day. When my mother called me over.”

I looked at him in surprise, staring up from my teacup.

He continued, “I should’ve stayed with you. With all of you. I was just in so deep at that point, and I couldn’t say no to her. And I know that isn’t an excuse, but I didn’t know what to do anymore. I was sure that the second something went sideways again, after all that I’d done, I would probably be the first one to die. I don’t know why nobody killed me in the meantime before V-Voldemort and the others came back with Potter.”

“Where did you go? After the room of requirement was set on fire?”

“I hid,” he mumbled, looking down at his tea. “I’ve always been a coward. I think I’ve deserved everything that’s happened to me after all of that.”

We sat after that, sipping our tea like nothing had been said to begin with. I looked back at him. He’d changed so much in the few years he’d been gone, and yet he was so different. He looked practically the same. Maybe a little healthier. He acted like a new person, though. All of that youthful bravado was gone, and what was left was quiet and remorseful and entirely not like the Draco I’d known in school. It shocked me more and more the longer we sat.

I sighed softly. “Draco?”

He looked at me with wide eyes.

“You haven’t called me that in forever.”

“I haven’t seen you in as long.”

He nodded. “I know.”

“Can I tell you something?”

“Yeah. I suppose so.”

I took in a breath, watching him a few seconds longer before I spoke.

“You know it’s never too late to change things, right? I know that you and your mother both made some decisions we never would’ve expected you to at the end, there. Harry told me.”

“That means nothing. I’ve always despised Potter. I was cruel to him every day, but he still saved my life. You all fought. You were all brave. Not giving him up one time was nothing compared to what all of the rest of you did.”

“You can still change things now, Draco.”

He shook his head.

“It’ll never be enough. I walked away from all of you when we thought Potter had died. I know you saw me doing it, too, and I know you were disappointed in me for it. Probably hated me,” he said, a humorless chuckle leaving him for a moment. “You were standing there by Granger and Weasley, and I looked at you right before I started across the courtyard, and you were already looking back at me. Looked like you could’ve killed me yourself.”

I swallowed, not taking my eyes off of him the entire time he spoke.

“I wanted better for you. I’d always hoped you would really, sincerely change for the better at some point, and it just never seemed to come,” I mentioned with a half-hearted shrug. “When I saw you walking out just in front of Luna, I hoped it meant you would stay with us. That you’d changed sides after Harry had gotten you out of the fire. Watching you leave after that…”

“I know. I’m shocked you even spoke to me in the bookshop.”

“I was shocked to see you at all. Especially in a muggle bookstore. I know you’d gotten off the hook after the war because of what you did for Harry, but honestly, I never thought you’d change. Not really, anyways.”

He nodded, looking away from me again. He only glanced back up once I continued speaking.

“But you have, now. That much is clear. You’re kinder now.”

“I don’t think I am.”

“You agreed to have tea with me. You willingly had a conversation with me in that bookstore rather than walking away from me. I thought for sure that you would when I saw you there.”

He shook his head. “I might have if it was anyone else. I wouldn’t do that to you, though. You were the only person who was kind to me in school. You’re the only one who really cared or noticed something was wrong in sixth year.”

“Do you really not see it?” I asked, laughing incredulously.

He furrowed his brow. “What?”

“You never would have told me any of this before. Draco, I know that you had done some horrible things, but it’s not too late to be different. And you’re already so different.”

He merely stared for a moment or two.

“I think I should go,” he said quietly. “Thank you for inviting me.”

He stood abruptly, walking off towards the kitchen door. I followed after him, just barely reaching him as we reached my entry way. I reached out, grabbing his wrist. His eyes were wide as he turned his head towards me, casting his gaze towards where my hand held him from going any further.

“Just…” I sighed, putting on a smile. “Don’t be afraid to send an owl sometime.”

He nodded, his voice small, “Okay.”

I finally let him go, watching him take his coat and bag of of books, and walk out the door.

A few weeks later I sat at my desk at home, unable to get past a terrible bout of writer’s block. I hadn’t considered when writing a book that it wasn’t simply writing a long article. I had to craft each chapter in a meaningful way, and unfortunately, that meant that I had to get anything at all on paper. I sighed hard, needing an outlet for my dramatics. Suddenly, an unfamiliar owl was at my window. I opened it up, and the owl dropped a letter right on my window, staring almost curiously at me.

You requested that I send an owl sometime. I hope that you meant it, otherwise you can feel free to ignore this letter. Assuming you did mean it, I’d like to invite you to lunch on the thirteenth of February. I hope you’re well.

Draco

I looked up at the owl on my windowsill.

“Just a moment,” I said to it.

It chirped lightly in response. I quickly picked up some new parchment and a quill, scribbling out a response before I folded it and put it in an envelope. I reached into my bottom desk drawer, giving the owl a treat before handing off the letter.

“Thank you. Go home, now.”

The owl flew off into the sky, leaving me with a smile and an even emptier brain.

The date he’d suggested was less than a week out from when he’d sent his letter, and it arrived much sooner than I was expecting. He’d sent another letter soon after mine had arrived, telling me the time and location, and soon enough I was pulling on my shoes in order to leave.

I showed up outside of the café. Surprisingly, another muggle location. I walked inside, being greeted by a hostess.

“Hi, I’m supposed to be meeting someone here, um…”

“She’s with me,” Draco said, coming up near the hostess stand.

I smiled at him gratefully, my demeanor obviously edging on discomfort. He led me back to our table, pulling out my seat for me.

“Thank you,” I said, scooting in a little closer. “So, why this place?”

“Easier to make reservations and avoid judgements eating at muggle restaurants. They’re not exactly familiar with the Malfoy name.”

“Ah,” I nodded in understanding. “Makes sense. Well, it’s nice here.”

“It is. They have great soup.”

I laughed, looking down at the menu.

“What?” he asked with a smile.

“It’s just weird. Being here with you, and… talking about soup.”

“We could talk about sandwiches if you’d like.”

I laughed again, finding him doing the same. The afternoon ended up delightfully strange. We finished our food, and found ourselves on a walk around town, chatting about what we’d been doing in the years since we’d last seen one another.

In the final moments, I’d convinced him to visit another bookstore with me the following week.

It started to become a bit of a habit, really. We’d keep finding new places to bring one another to, and, for me, new excuses to keep seeing him. I didn’t necessarily have feelings for him, but I couldn’t deny that I found myself enjoying his company much more than I had as a teenager.

One chilly night in March, I’d come home from dinner with a friend absolutely wiped. I was more than ready to head off to bed after sitting around on my couch for a rerun of an old favorite show.

Though, halfway through the episode, there was a knock on my door. I walked over the front door, wand in hand as I wasn’t expecting any visitors at night. I looked through the peephole, hiding away the wand when I recognized the face outside the door. I opened it right afterwards.

“Hey,” he greeted, standing just outside my door.

My brows raised on instinct as he looked a little inebriated.

“Hi,” I said mindlessly. “What are you doing here?”

He looked down to the floor, shrugging a little. He rubbed at his face before he looked back at me.

“I might’ve been at the pub down the street. I thought about you there,” he swallowed. “Thought it might be nice to see you.”

“Do you want to come in?”

He nodded silently, stepping past me into my apartment. I shut and locked the door, turning to see him looking around the space. He looked back at me after a moment, a confused pout coming across his face as his eyes dropped to my outfit.

“Were you busy?”

I shook my head. “No, I just got home a bit ago.”

“Where’d you go?” he asked, toeing his shoes off to leave them near mine.

“Got dinner with Luna Lovegood.”

“Oh,” he nodded. “She still… Herself?”

“Draco,” I scolded.

“Sorry.”

I helped him take his coat off as he started struggling with the sleeves.

“Luna’s still an absolute sweetheart, as she’s always been,” I mentioned as I draped his jacket on a coat hook.

He wore a sage green sweater under the jacket, and it brought the slightest smile to my face that he still preferred his house colors when he wasn’t decked out in all black. He started wandering into my flat, looking around the living room.

“I like your home,” he said at last.

“Thank you,” I replied with a small laugh. “I’m going to go get you some water. Probably some ibuprofen too. It might help prevent a massive headache tomorrow.”

He nodded, not quite paying attention as he started walking around again. Once I gathered the cup of water and the medicine, I was at a loss. He’d escaped the living room. I walked around, checking the bathroom first, before finding my bedroom lamp on. I stepped into the room, finding him plopped down on my bed. This time, I couldn’t help but laugh fully.

He lifted his head with a quirked brow.

“What?”

“You. Laying there like you’ve just had your very first drink.”

“You’ve got a comfortable bed.”

“I’m aware,” I nodded, kneeling on the mattress next to him. “Come and drink some water, now.”

He sat up with a groan, accepting the ibuprofen and the cup from me. He drank down the water quickly, letting out a sigh as he handed back the empty cup.

“Thank you,” he mumbled, dropping back down.

He was quiet for a few seconds as I set down the empty cup on my nightstand, just staring at the ceiling.

“Is it okay that I came here?”

I furrowed my brow, laying on my back next to him.

“I’m happy you showed up here rather than going and causing trouble someplace else.”

“You’ve always been a good person,” he said with a sigh. “Why were you ever friends with me? I was awful.”

“Seemed like you needed someone good in your life. You were surrounded by some truly terrible people,” I mentioned with a chuckle. “When we ended up seated next to one another in potions and you actually laughed at jokes I made that weren’t at the expense of another person, I realized you might not be totally hopeless.”

He laughed. No— he giggled, covering his face with his hands.

“You know, my other friends hated you,” he said, voice muffled.

I reached over, pulling his hands away from his face. He smiled softly as I did, watching me as he continued talking.

“They all thought I went crazy for being friends with you. Blaise told me I was going to get kicked out of Slytherin if I kept it up, and Parkinson was really upset because she wasn’t the only girl around me anymore.”

“I always thought she had a crush on you.”

He hummed. “Yeah, I think so. It was kind of annoying, to be honest. At first I liked the attention, but it got old very quickly.”

“I can imagine.”

“You know what I always thought?”

I shrugged. “No clue.”

“I thought for forever that Potter had it bad for you. Up until he started crushing on the Weasley girl, I was convinced.”

“Really?”

“Mhm,” he nodded, looking back at the ceiling. “Either him or Longbottom. They were always around you.”

“Because we were friends,” I said with a laugh. “I still see them sometimes, you know?”

“You do?”

“Yeah.”

“Wow. I haven’t seen my school friends since, well, everything happened.”

“You’ve seen me, at least.”

He smiled a little.

“That’s true. Nobody else, though. Maybe that’s a good thing.”

“I think it probably is.”

A silence fell over us for a few moments. I stared at the sheets in between us, brushing my fingers across them.

“Why are you so nice to me?” he asked, voice just above a whisper.

“Why would I be cruel?”

He sighed dejectedly. “I deserve it. I was— I’ve done terrible things.”

I sighed softly. “I know what you’ve done, Draco. I was kind of there for much of it.”

A smile tugged at his lips, though he shoved it away just as quickly as it appeared.

“There’s still a lot you don’t know,” he said at last. “You wouldn’t stick around if you did.”

“I would.”

“No, you wouldn’t.”

I fell silent again for a minute or so, milling over what to say next in my head. I heard him let out a soft breath, and turned my eyes to watch him. His hair was messier than usual, with his natural waves sneaking their way out of the gelled constraints they were usually stuck in. His skin glowed in the soft lighting of my bedroom, especially now that the constant dark circles he’d worn for the past few years were gradually fading away with time.

He called my name in question. I hummed in response, turning my body to face him, listening as he started speaking again.

“I just,” he sighed, taking a moment. “I wonder if things would’ve been different if I told you back then. Or anyone.”

“It might have changed things a little, but at that point, do you think you would’ve been able to avoid what you had to do?”

He shook his head. “No. It just might have been nice for someone to know.“

“I think you would be too stubborn to tell anyone, though,” I said with half a smile.

He smiled back, looking down at the mattress as he nodded.

“I definitely would’ve been. That’s part of the reason I never told you in the first place.”

I raised a brow. “What was the other part?”

He swallowed, looking at me again.

“I was worried you might put yourself in danger.”

“How?”

He snorted a laugh. “If you think I was stubborn, you have got to know that you were much worse. You probably would’ve tried helping me at the worst possible moment and gotten yourself killed.”

I scoffed. “I’m not that dumb.”

“You could act like it sometimes.”

My eyes widened as he hid a smile.

“Oh, so you do still like to make fun of me, huh?”

“Old habits are hard to beat.”

“You still secretly like dancing?”

His smile fell a bit as he thought it over.

“I haven’t really had a reason to since… Everything.”

Whatever came over me in that moment to drive my actions could possibly be instinct to comfort an old friend. It could’ve been the need to reach out to someone clearly in pain. It could’ve just been that I wanted to touch him. I scooted closer, resting my head on his chest. My hand rested on his stomach, and I felt him sigh softly through it. He didn’t say anything, but I did feel him go a bit rigid.

I lifted my head up when I noticed the stiffness in his body.

“I-I’m sorry, I should’ve asked first,” I rushed out, “Is this okay?”

His cheeks turned slowly pink as he stared back at me, nodding.

“I, um,” he let out a quick breath, “Yes. I just don’t really ever—“

Understanding dawned on me. “Oh. Well, it’s just like a hug.”

He stared back once again, unmoving for a few moments. I furrowed my brow in question as he looked away from my face.

“The only person, um, who ever really hugs me is… mum.”

I watched him quietly, unsure what to say. It had always been evident that he never had a shot at a normal childhood, but I hadn’t considered how much of that normalcy was completely stripped from his life. He closed his eyes.

“I don’t know why I said that,” he said quietly. “That’s so humiliating.”

“No, no,” I said, brushing some of his hair from his face before quickly pulling away. “Not at all. That isn’t your fault.”

“If I wasn’t such a horrible child…”

“It may have helped to make real friends, but you were raised in an echo chamber of hatred. For the longest time you didn’t know how to be anything but mean. Clearly, if your own father didn’t even hug you as a child.”

He bit the inside of his cheek, nodding slowly.

“Plus,” I added, “things are so different now. I saw you starting to change a little back then. I wasn’t the only one to notice either, you should’ve seen my friends’ faces when you smiled at me in passing on the way to classes the first time. Since then, things have changed tenfold. Why not lean into that?”

He nodded again, giving me the faintest smile imaginable. I settled back against his chest, finally feeling his arms carefully wrapping around me. They just barely rested over top of me, not dissimilar to how an adult would try to hug a toddler. I let one arm stretch across his torso, holding him tightly, and, eventually, he held me just as tight.

I opened my eyes to sun-washed sheets, and a breathing pillow under my head. I tilted my head up, seeing him still absolutely passed out. His breathing came soft and steady, and he looked utterly at peace. I only looked away from his sleeping form when he started stirring. He let out a soft little groan, his arms tightening around me slightly. Only after he gave a sigh did I have the nerve to look back at his face.

“Good morning,” I said.

He smiled softly. “Morning. M’sorry, I didn’t mean to fall asleep here.”

“That’s okay. I don’t mind,” I looked down at our clothes. “Just a bit unfortunate we fell asleep in these clothes. Not the most comfortable.”

He laughed. “Yes. Maybe next time it would be better not to be wearing trousers. I think I’d personally prefer some flannel pajamas.”

“I’m partial to sleep shorts.”

He let out another small laugh, as did I. His cheeks were tinged pink as he looked back at me, though I can’t say I didn’t feel the heat rising in my face as well.

“How are you feeling?”

He shrugged lightly. “Surprisingly fine. Thanks for taking care of me last night.”

“Any time, Malfoy.”

I reluctantly pulled myself out of his arms, sitting up in the bed. I stretched out my arms above my head, then turned to him once again to announce I’d be back in a moment. I found myself doing my usual bathroom duties in a kind of haze. There was a smile stuck to my face that I couldn’t quite get rid of. I chose not to look into it too much, especially as I reentered the bedroom to find him rubbing at his sleep-ridden eyes.

“There’s an extra toothbrush I left in the bathroom for you. It should be the yellow one next to mine,” I mentioned.

He gave me a small smile, nodding his head.

“Thanks.”

I hummed in response. “I’ll be in the kitchen. Tea and toast sound okay?”

“You don’t have to do that,” he said, standing up.

I merely raised a brow at him as he drew closer. He silently conceded, following me out of the bedroom in order for each of us to get to what we needed to. I filled the kettle, put the bread in the toaster, and somehow managed to spill my entire cup of water all over the floor after setting out the mugs. I grumbled to myself, getting down with a towel to clean up my mess.

“Clumsy one, aren’t you?” he asked with a laugh as he found me crouched down on the floor.

I looked up to where he stood near the sink, feigning annoyance at his cheery state. I stood up, crossing over to wring the towel out.

“Wait,” he exclaimed, though too late.

I stepped forward, not seeing the bit of spilled water I hadn’t cleaned up. I slipped and, in an attempt not to tumble to the floor, grabbed onto his arms. He laughed at me as I regained my balance, earning him a furrowed brow and a hidden smile of my own.

“Don’t laugh at me.”

“It was funny,” he defended. “You should’ve seen your face.”

I squeezed his forearms briefly before beginning to drop my hands. Though, the way his face dropped as I did so kept me from completely breaking contact.

“Are you okay?”

He swallowed. “Yeah, I’m— It’s fine.”

I quirked a brow, unbelieving.

“I’m not buying that. What’s wrong?”

He looked down, his eyes quickly darting to where my hand was placed on his left arm. I took in a breath.

“Oh,” I said quietly. “Do you… It’s still there, isn’t it?”

He nodded slowly. “Yes.”

I firmed my hold on his arms again, gently rubbing my thumbs against the fabric of his sweater.

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s my own fault.”

“I’m still sorry. I’ve never thought about the fact you’d always have to hide it.”

He breathed out slowly, shakily, still looking down.

“Is there any way to rid yourself of it?” I asked after a beat.

“No,” he shook his head. “There are some charms I can use temporarily to hide it if I need to, but nothing permanent works. It’s forever.”

I nodded, looking back at his face until he met my eye. He cleared his throat, pulling his arms from out of my grasp.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to ruin the mood.”

“I’m used to it. I haven’t forgotten your little attitude every time you spotted me with Harry or one of the others.”

I reached down to grab the towel I had dropped.

He rolled his eyes playfully. “I couldn’t help it. You were so likable, and they were just...”

“My friends. So watch it, Malfoy,” I scolded with a smirk.

“Right,” he nodded, fighting a smile himself. “Everyone has their flaws.”

I scoffed out a laugh, lightly slapping his shoulder with the back of my hand. He laughed, leaning against the counter.

“Right then, you can pour your own tea,” I noted as I wrung out the towel.

“You’ll still get the toast though?”

I furrowed my brow as I tossed the towel down, turning to him.

“Only because you don’t know where I keep the plates or else you’d be on your own.”

He gave me a knowing smirk, taking the kettle just before it began whistling to fill both of our mugs. I took down the plates, setting the toast on each of them before getting the butter and jam set out. We set to work, side by side, on preparing our breakfast. It felt oddly normally as we went about our business, putting everything away before we sat at the kitchen table.

We found ourselves laughing over nothing in particular before we knew it, and, eventually, it was dark outside once again. The surprise on his face told me all that I needed to know as he looked out the window and declared that he should probably be going on his way. I walked him to the door, watching as he gathered his things again, and as he apparated away.

Our owls were sent back and forth over the next few weeks, and though we saw each other frequently, I couldn’t help but let my mind wander on the days we didn’t have much communication. Frankly, it wandered a great deal even when we were together. Usually to his eyes. The way he’d look at me when we’d stop talking. Or the way he’d smile when we did some silly activity together. Or his laugh when I’d make a stupid jokes. Or his hands.

May came quickly, and with it came warmer weather. It was nice to have my windows open whenever it wasn’t raining, and it was absolutely wonderful to have lakeside picnics or nighttime strolls through the nearby park as the month bled into June. Those little outdoor escapades started to become a habit. A way of being out in the world together with nobody else around.

Not that alone time was necessarily important to us. It certainly didn’t make my cheeks flush with heat every time we sat completely by ourselves on a picnic blanket with favorite snacks of mine that he’d somehow remembered and brought along when he showed up at my door. I most definitely hadn’t made a habit to lie to myself about the entire ordeal.

“Walk?” he asked after we’d finished playing a game of wizard chess.

I nodded. “Of course. It’s a gorgeous night, we may as well enjoy it, right?”

He smiled, standing and taking my hands to help me off the ground near my coffee table. We pulled on our shoes, and headed out. It was warm, and the most gentle breeze went through the new leaves on the trees as we passed them. He made silly conversation with me as we kept on, so much so that we’d lost track of the time. I could only tell it had been a while when my legs started growing a bit tired.

We sat on a bench nearby after our walk through the park, relishing in the warm night air of the summertime.

“The moon looks beautiful tonight,” I commented.

He hummed in agreement.

“It does,” he said, suddenly putting on a small smile. “That’s one benefit to me staying out all hours of the night with you.”

I laughed. “Oh dear. You may just have to stay over again. How horrible. It’s not like you can apparate home at any moment.”

“This is your fault, you know? You just have to live so far away,” he said in feigned annoyance, ignoring the last sentence I’d spoken. “Maybe I should just make friends elsewhere.”

“Yet, you still accept every time I suggest some kind of activity for us to do rather than finding new friends. Why’s that?”

“You’re… Different,” he whispered, like it was some miraculous secret.

“How?”

He sighed softly. “People back home, what I grew up with— It’s nothing like this. Everyone is cold. They all care so much about the wrong things.”

“You think I care about the right things?”

He smiled softly. “You care about me. That’s enough.”

“Who would’ve guessed Malfoy would become such a softie,” I mentioned with a smirk. “Oh, how things change.”

“Some things don’t,” he said with a shrug. “You still somehow choose to be my friend.”

“All that childhood bullying and teenage depression captivated me.”

He furrowed his brows, an unbelieving laugh passing his lips. We sat in a comfortable silence for a few minutes, looking around at the park as it was washed in moonlight. I felt his fingers brush against my hand, and I willingly opened my palm to him. He slid his hand into mine, lacing our fingers together and giving a gentle squeeze.

“Look up,” he said quietly, and I obliged. He pointed up at the stars in the clear sky. “There’s a constellation there. Just between the… It’s right by ursa major, the plough constellation.”

“Mhm,” I hummed along.

“Right along here,” he traced a line of stars in my vision. “Do you know what that constellation is called?”

“Can’t say that I do, no.”

“Draco. It was called that because it kind of resembles a dragon. I don’t know for sure if my parents named me because of the constellation, but I like to think so.”

I smiled, glancing at him rather than the stars. He looked at peace as he stared up into the sky, his thumb gently rubbing against my hand. He looked at me out of the corner of his eye after a minute, at which point I looked back into the night. The stars really were beautiful that night. They looked brighter than normal, and the constellation patters I did recognize were easy to spot. Now, there was a new one I wouldn’t soon forget.

I heard him sigh next to me after a few minutes, and turned my head slightly to find he was already looking at me. This time, neither of us looked away.

“You’re my best friend,” he said, almost too quietly to hear.

Unsure of what to say in that moment, and wanting to do more than offer a smile, I leaned my head against his shoulder. He let out another soft breath, dropping his head against mine. I brought our connected hands up, pressing a soft kiss to the back of his.

“When was the last time you were in Hogsmeade?” I asked quietly.

He gave a soft chuckle to that.

We walked down the street the next day in the afternoon, everything looking quite different now that the weather was quite warm.

“It’s strange not being here in the wintertime,” I noted.

He nodded. “It is. I haven’t been in years.”

We walked up to a familiar building, and I reached out to him. I grabbed his hand, pulling him into the pub. We were offered a seat, but not before receiving several stares.

“You might not want to be holding my hand in front of everyone here,” Draco leaned in to whisper.

“I’m not terribly worried about being seen with you, you know?” I whispered back in reply. “Anyone who knows me is already aware that we used to be friends.”

We sat at the table, placed our orders, and were left alone once again. He let out a breath, looking a bit uncomfortable.

“Seriously, don’t worry about all of them,” I said, leaning on the table. “Half of everyone in here were secretly on the wrong side anyways. They just fly under the radar because they don’t come from a powerful family.”

“Still. I don’t want to drag you down with me.”

“You aren’t. Besides, I’m used to people judging me for being around you.”

He deadpanned. “That doesn’t make me feel better.”

“My point is that I don’t care about being seen with you. Okay?”

He swallowed, sighing softly.

“You make it terribly difficult to try and protect you.”

“Probably because I don’t need to be protected. Stop worrying about me so much,” I stated with a laugh.

“Can’t help it,” he replied, a small smirk on his face.

Our drinks were brought to the table, along with some assorted appetizers.

“Just don’t tell your parents that we’re friends this time,” I joked, hoping that wouldn’t strike a chord.

He snorted. “I already have.”

I straightened in surprise, looking at him with curious eyes. He glanced at me, a partial smile on his face when he saw my shock.

“And you’re still allowed to live with them?”

“It’s been a long time since they’ve tried to make decisions for me like that. After practically forcing me to become a, uh—“

“Yep.”

He nodded, thankful he didn’t have to say it.

“After that happened, my father laid off. Mother still worries for me, but she knows now that at least I’m safe. That’s all that’s ever really mattered to her.”

“They still hate me, though?”

“Pretty much,” he said with a curt nod.

I smiled to myself, sipping at my drink. He shook his head.

“You look pleased with yourself.”

“I’m sorry to say, but I don’t really feel too terrible that they don’t like me.”

“I know,” he said.

I looked back up to see a small smile on his face as well.

“Also, most of that smile is because I haven’t had a butterbeer in a terribly long time.”

Two months flew by after our visit to Hogsmeade. Though, it was filled with almost daily visits with one another. Usually, he’d just show up and keep me company as I wrote. Sometimes, he’d even give input when I asked for it, or let me read him chapters to see how it sounded. His sleepovers even became more frequent, and part of me had to wonder what on earth anyone would think of it if they knew.

I’d told my friends bits and pieces of what had been taking up so much of my time over the last eight months, but not quite the whole story. Luckily, they hadn’t been too angry with me for it. Most of them were rather indifferent, especially after I’d told them about how he’d changed. I never expected them to forgive him, though. I wouldn’t believe how different things had become if I hadn’t seen how he’d changed for myself.

But he truly did. And it was incredible.

During the breaks I’d take from writing, he was usually excited to tell me about the muggle books he’d been reading. Sometimes out of surprise at the content, and sometimes just because he appreciated the writing.

The icing on top was being with him and running into Ron and Hermione. The looks on their faces when he was gentle and kind in their interaction was absolutely priceless. She’d written me days later to ask if I’d found his long-lost twin, not quite believing that he was capable of being anything but who he used to be. But, as I’d repeatedly told Draco himself: it’s not only possible for people to change for the good, it’s probable for those who care to.

So, our days passed comfortably. He only became more kind and, frankly, affectionate, as time went on.

It was on a beautiful August evening when he knocked on my door, our plans already set in place.

I tugged the door open at the sound and took him in, my brows raised slightly. He was in a white button-down and a black sweater vest. There was a messenger back slung across his chest, one hand with a silver ring adorning it held the strap. His cheeks were slightly pink from the weather outside, and he practically glowed. For lack of a better word, he just looked pretty.

He furrowed his brow, looking back at me.

“Everything alright?”

I nodded fast. “Yeah. You just look really nice today.”

“Oh,” he replied, cheeks suddenly flushed. “You also look nice. I like your blouse.”

“Thanks.”

“I brought something,” he said, giving me a shy smile.

“Okay,” I said curiously. “Are you going to at least take off your shoes?”

He shook his head. “No. In fact, you should probably put yours on.”

I furrowed my brow, though I listened anyways. I started pulling on my shoes.

“I thought we were going to have dinner here first, and then go to the cinema.”

“Change of plans,” he shrugged.

“Alright,” I laughed, still unsure.

He pulled a small object out of the bag he carried, unfolding the cloth around it to reveal a small stone statue. I quirked a brow, looking down at the little object.

“What’s this?”

“Do you trust me?”

“Of course.”

“On the count of three, reach out to it and hold on.”

“Draco, is this a portkey?”

“One…”

“Is this one even legal?”

“Two…”

“You’re insane.”

“Three.”

We both held onto the small statue, and in an instant we were in some alleyway. I took in a sudden breath, feeling out of sorts from the transport.

“Where did you get that?”

“My family has had it forever,” he said, wrapping it back up and tucking it into his bag.

“Where are we?”

He smiled at me, taking my hand. I followed him along blindly, until he lead me into a building. I looked around at the tall ceilings and the beautiful chandelier that hung in the middle.

“Wow,” I said, mostly to myself.

He walked us up to the front desk, greeting the clerk in French. My eyes widened as they continued a conversation, ending only when he took a key from her. He then began leading me towards the elevator, still not loosening his grip on my hand.

“I didn’t know you spoke French.”

He smirked as he pressed the elevator button.

“I brought a few things with in my bag, but I didn’t bring any clothes. I thought we could get whatever else we needed here.”

I quirked a brow as we stepped into the elevator. He hit the button for the right floor.

“How long were you planning on staying?” I asked with a laugh.

“Just tonight and daytime tomorrow. We could stay longer if you want to?”

“No, that’s plenty,” I replied, a smile stuck to my face. “This is crazy.”

“Is it?”

“Practically clinically insane.”

He laughed, pulling me out into the hall. He walked us down the hallway, opening the right door when we arrived, and letting me walk in ahead of him. The room was huge. It had a beautiful sitting area, and judging by the height of the curtains, I was sure the windows would be gorgeous. He called me over as he entered the bedroom through large double doors, and I took it all in. He dropped his bag and flopped down onto the huge mattress.

“Whoa,” I said finally, shaking my head. “I don’t know what else to say.”

I fell down next to him on the bed, smiling over at him when he turned his head to me.

“You like it?”

“This is too much, Draco. Really,” I began. “But, it’s amazing.”

“I have one more thing to show you before we get dinner.”

“What else could there possibly be?”

“You’ve seen the eiffel tower before?”

I shook my head. “Only in pictures.”

He stood quickly, and I sat, watching him circle the bed. He grabbed the tall curtains, pulling them apart with force. I stilled before scrambling to my feet and meeting him at the window. I looked out the practically-floor-to-ceiling windows to see the tower glittering against the night sky. I sighed, absolutely wonderstruck.

“Beautiful, isn’t it? One thing I’m sure the muggles got right.”

I laughed, unbelieving, turning to throw my arms around his middle. He held me against him, resting his head on top of mine as we looked out the window again.

“We’ll have all night to stare out the window if you’d like to, but I don’t think the restaurant we’re eating at will wait as long.”

I looked at him, a smile still stuck to my face. He smiled back, just as gently, tucking some hair behind my ear. I felt my heart beat a little faster then, especially as he didn’t look away from me this time. Usually at this point, one of us would have come up with some clever distraction from whatever tension laid between us. It was silent, but not uncomfortable. There was almost a whisper of ‘tell the truth’ floating there, but I couldn’t quite bring myself to open my mouth to speak. He moved forward the slightest bit, though before anything could happen, he did speak.

“We really should go,” he said as a whisper. “Our reservation is in five minutes, and I’d feel horrible if we missed it.”

He gave a boyish smile, one that I couldn’t help but to return, even if I’d secretly hoped for a different outcome. I nodded silently, accepting his hand again once we walked to the door. We apparated near a relatively quiet street, stepping out onto the sidewalk in order to integrate into the other pedestrians. We walked into a small restaurant hidden through a wall. I hadn’t expected him to take me to a wizards-only restaurant, but especially not one that had me forcefully closing my jaw after it had involuntarily dropped.

“Dray, this is incredible, but it might be a little above my pay grade,” I mentioned, leaning in a bit to speak quietly.

He hummed. “That’s why instead of splitting the bill how you like, I’m just going to pay for it.”

I rolled my eyes. “That’s not fair.”

“Just let me be nice,” he said, turning the tables to scold me for once.

“Are you sure I’m not underdressed?”

“You look beautiful. Quit worrying.”

I attempted to drop my hand from his as he spoke with the hostess, though his grip only tightened a bit. I felt my cheeks flush a little when he flashed me a knowing smirk and the raise of a brow. We started walking back into the restaurant behind the waitress after a moment.

I spoke quietly as we went, “What, are you trying to romance me now, Malfoy?”

He gave my hand a gentle squeeze.

“Maybe I am. Are you opposed?”

I hid a smile. “No.”

“Thank Merlin for that,” he muttered under his breath, earning a laugh from me.

Dinner was beautiful, and wildly delicious. It definitely helped that I wasn’t terribly worried about the bill. I also can’t say I hated the idea of his family’s money going towards the meal of a wizard who was against practically everything they stood for. It felt like a small victory. Though, it was a bit strange to be surrounded by wizards who weren’t preoccupied with staring at us.

We stepped out of the restaurant, and rather than zipping someplace else, he was determined to walk to our next destination. He held my hand in his like he was afraid he’d lose me if he didn’t, swinging our arms along without a care.

“You seem happy,” I commented.

“I am,” he affirmed, bumping into me slightly. “I’m with you, for one. Plus, we haven’t received a single sideways glance from anyone around here. It’s nice that you’re the only person who knows me.”

I smiled to myself at that, letting him start swinging our arms again. He grinned over at me as we walked past crowds of people that grew increasingly larger. We probably looked ridiculous, but I certainly didn’t care. Not when I’d never seen him happier.

“So, I’ve got a question for you,” I said.

“Go on, then.”

“Why did you bring me to Paris?”

He glanced at me again, eyes a little wider. I raised one brow in question. He cleared his throat.

“Uh, I don’t know if you remember, but we were in some class. I don’t know which one, I think it was in second or third year,” he shrugged with a slight laugh.

“Oh,” I said, drawing his attention away.

We both looked up, suddenly seeing the peak of the tower come over a building. He made a decision to table my question, instead opting to tug me along as he started running ahead. We bolted forward, avoiding tons of people as we came up on the glittering structure, out of breath from both the run and the laughter at how silly we’d become over a hunk of metal. We walked the rest of the way until we were close enough to really look up at it. I held onto his arm with my free hand, resting my head against his shoulder.

“Wow.”

He let out a heavy breath. “Yeah.”

We stood quietly for a few moments, just to take it all in. The only thing I could really hear was the beat of my own heart and indecipherable conversation being had by the other people nearby. I finally looked back at him, and somehow he was still more gorgeous than everything else I’d seen that night.

He looked at me, a glimmer in his eye as that same old sweet smile showed on his face.

“So, what was the rest of that story?” I asked.

“Ah,” he said with a curt nod. “Well, in that class, someone had asked about portkeys. But before the professor had started to explain it, they called on you to pick anywhere in the world you’d like to go. I guess to demonstrate that a portkey could be enchanted in order to get to that place. You said you’d want to go to Paris and see the Eiffel tower.”

“You remembered that?”

He merely nodded. I tilted my head.

“How did you possibly keep that in mind after all this time?” I asked.

He shrugged. “I don’t know. I’ve… I just remember when it comes to you.”

“That’s crazy,” I laughed. “I don’t understand how you could remember something that happened in a class almost ten years ago. We weren’t even friends then.”

“Well, I,” he began, eyes going starry and somehow prettier than they’d ever been, “I suppose I’ve always loved you.”

I fell completely quiet, about one billion thoughts speeding through my head. Only one rose above the others: I love you. But I still wasn’t saying it. Why wasn’t I saying it? Why wasn’t I saying anything at all?

“Sorry, that was too much to—”

I interrupted what would surely be a lively rambling session from him, and threw myself at him, our lips finally connecting for the first time. As soon as the shock wore off for him, he kissed me back. His lips were soft and careful against mine, his arms wrapping around my middle to pull me in closer, and my hands pressed against his chest. I smiled into the kiss, leaving a few lingering pecks against his lips before we broke apart.

I looked at him, taking in everything that I could about that moment. I sighed.

“You’re so pretty,” I said softly.

That definitely wasn’t what I meant to say.

He laughed. “Yeah?”

“Sorry,” I groaned with a laugh of my own, leaning my forehead against his chest.

He lifted my face with one hand under my chin, pressing one more soft kiss to my lips.

“I love you, is what I meant to say,” I noted.

“I knew this trip was a good idea.”

“So this was the plan from the start, hm?”

He smirked. “Not the plan. Just a hope.”

We went back the hotel room, thought not without my genius idea to grab a cheap bottle of wine first.

It felt more fitting than champagne given that we’d spend the rest of the night staring out of the window and laying lazy kisses on one another.

We found ourselves back at my flat a week later, almost as if nothing had changed. But really, everything had changed. Completely and totally.

We sat on my couch, our tea cold from sitting without any attention on the coffee table in front of us. He talked to me about nothing for hours, and there’s nothing else I’d wanted to be doing than wasting away the day with him. It had quickly become my favorite activity.

“You know,” he started, “inviting me over for tea that day after I’d made quite the reputation for myself was probably a stupid idea.”

“But?” I prodded.

“But,” he said, pressing a kiss to my lips before continuing, “I am utterly thankful you did.”

“Aww. My pretty boy,” I cooed, earning a groan from him.

“You can’t keep calling me that.”

He grabbed my hand as I reached to pinch at his cheeks, kissing my knuckles softly.

“Yes, I can. You secretly love it.”

He blushed. “I love you. There’s a difference.”

I sighed, cuddling into his side. “Does this mean you’re going to take me home and introduce me to your parents as your girlfriend, now?”

“I’m pretty certain I’ll have to.”

“Why’s that?”

“Well, I’m going to inherit the manor one day.”

“And?” I questioned, laughing.

He kissed me again, speaking quietly against my lips.

“You won’t be my girlfriend forever,” he said with a smirk. “Gotta make sure you’ll like the place.”

[satorubrain]

Can we get a part 2 of Changes pretty please 🥺

Amelioration

Pairings: Gojo Satoru x Reader.

Tags: Fluff!!!

Synopsis: GOJO'S REDEMPTION ARC!!! No matter what happens Satoru is NOT going to give up. He's going to prove to you that he's changed FOR better this time.

A/N: the final part of the series changes!!

Part 1. Changes

Part 2. Impinge

6 months.

It's been six months since Satoru made Mina disappear. Six months of ceaseless trying. Only he knows how many efforts he has put in. Taking every mission near Kyoto just so he could cross paths with, even a glimpse of you at the Kyoto High would give him enough strength to keep going.

Coming up with reasons to see you- arranging tournaments, joint trips, missions of two schools just so he could see you have fun with your kids. The tournaments which used to happen once a year now happen every month.

It was one of the tournaments he had prepared under the pretense of helping the students get stronger. Everyone knew the real reason though. It was pretty to figure out- instead of participating, Satoru was busy completing your smallest wishes. Oh you're thirsty? Do you need water? Juice? Any other drinks? He has prepared everything. Hungry? Okay your favorite food is already on your way. You've been standing in the sun for far too long? He's your personal butler holding an umbrella for you, maintaining a distance. At this point you feel bad for him.

You think he's going to start jumping as you bring him to one of the empty rooms, so you can finally let him talk.

Closing the door behind you before locking it with one hand while the other is held by Satoru a little tightly, fearing you might leave him again if he loosens his grip on you. Hugging you tightly the moment you turn around to face him. His body is slightly trembling as he lets out a shaky breath.

"Please... Just give me a moment" he requests for your permission to let him hold you close in his embrace as he recollects his thoughts. Relaxing his entangled arms around you, enough till he's on his knees, looking up at your bewildered expression with his arms holding you close to him by your waist.

"Gojo..." you exhale gently, still unwilling to fully give into his wishes. At least not until he comes clean.

"Seven months. It's been seven months since I last held you. It's been seven months since I started trying to correct my mistakes. Finding proof against Mina, making her friend confess to her so I can catch her redhanded and well, the next six months were spent trying to win you back and ask for your forgiveness" he chuckles nervously "so do you think I've succeeded?" He looks at you, his eyes pleading, eyebrows slightly raised giving you an anxious yet soft smile.

You softly cup his cheeks, tracing his cheekbone with your thumb "I believe you've already proved sufficiently but" you exhale pausing for a moment "I think it'll be difficult to date me now, I'm quite terrified Satoru, I might push you away at times, I might not trust you enough..." you confess. You can notice his face contour into one of the expressions of hurt, realizing he's the one who has caused you such immense pain. And that's why he'll make sure you'll heal. He will stay with you through all the thick and thin.

"It is alright. I've made mistakes, so I must make up for it. No matter how much you push me away, I'll come back to you. If you don't trust me enough, I'll try to win your trust even harder. No matter what punishments you give me, I will gladly accept them all if it means you are standing along my side. So, do you think I can get another chance to prove to you that I'll only be yours? I promise I'll always live up to my words" He pours his heart and soul into this confession, begging for a miracle that you'll finally accept him.

You answer by leaning down softly connecting your lips with his, smiling into it as Satoru returns the kiss with fervour with a hand cupping your cheek and pulling you even closer, tear drops wetting the fingertips. Oh how you both longed for each other.

"Well then, from now on you'll only be mine. Never forget that." You breathe against his lips, grinning.

"Only yours." He swears.

AND THE CHANGES SERIES IS DONE!!!!! Feeling giddy over it hehe

[REQUESTS ARE OPEN]

[MASTERLIST]

[via-the-ghoul]

Interesting facts about the free comic book day MH book

It starts out with a letter from Bloodgood banning all normie interactions

We then cut to Frankie and their dad, who’s trying to perfect the reanimation process, which hasn’t been done before

Frankie’s dad hasn’t left his office in a while and Frankie is worried

Frankie’s also worried that they aren’t “perfect” and Dad specifies that they’re different from the reanimation thing, and calls them “An amalgamation of the world’s greatest minds and kindest souls” which is cute

Also Frankie’s dad is in shadow the whole time it’s very concerning

Frankie then leaves due to getting a call from Cleo, who seems mad about something Clawdeen did, but we don’t know what.

Then Clawdeen calls Frankie and it seems that Clawdeen doesn’t know what Cleo’s upset about, and that Frankie isn’t actually all that sure themselves. Also, neither of them have heard from Draculaura and last year was hard on her, though we don’t entirely know what happened.

Also the Bloodgood letter I mentioned earlier specifies that the rules were put in place due to an unspecified turn of events last year, which is possibly the same event that Draculaura was involved in

Back in the lab, Frankie’s dad suddenly has an idea as to the missing piece to the reanimation thing

However, his notes have vanished, and where stolen by a mysterious cloaked figure whose also in the lab.

Frankie’s dad begs for the notes back, saying he’d do anything. The hooded figure wants him to work with them on something

Back with Frankie, they’re still talking to Clawdeen (and also looking at a photo of the two of them + Draculaura and Cleo) and saying that they think the Cleo and Clawdeen incident was a big misunderstanding.

Then the To Be Continued hits, this is basically just a teaser

We then get some cute profiles of the four ghouls in this online profile style for the MonsterNet!

It mentions everyone’s zodiac signs so in case anyone’s curious: Frankie’s a cancer, Drac’s an aquarius, Clawdeen’s a taurus, and Cleo’s a virgo.

They also have usernames, Frankie’s “FrightfullyFr4nkie” Drac’s “Bl33dingHeart16” Clawdeen’s “ClawdeensClawset” and Cleo’s “QueenCleo”

Frankie apparently likes sharing brain facts

While Toralei seems to have finished her redemption arc Meowlody and Purrsephone don’t seem very nice, specifically to Frankie

Drac’s apparently a student bloody council member and part of the monster ball planning committee, like in Gen3, so that’s cool.

Drac’s online diary entry (oh yeah they have online diary stuff up) gives some more information on The Incident. She didn’t have much free time, and couldn’t process her feelings on something. That something seems to be the thing that got human interaction banned, at least to me.

Drac also had to sit through a bunch of boring meetings, had to answer a lot of questions, and was forced to drink blood (what these meetings are for is unknown) and she’s doing it to make her dad proud

The phrase “I smile through it all though” really makes me think we have a “Drac is unhealthily repressing her emotions and is really sad under her skin” arc on our hands, which I would argue didn’t come out of nowhere? She did seem to have some serious self esteem issues in Frights Camera Action

Clawdeen does OOTDs and restyle tutorials on her blog and also has a link to her fashion catalog.

She’s been having a creativity boom, but her parents have been kinda distant lately.

So is Toralei who’s Clawdeen explicitly calls her girlfriend.

In all fairness Clawdeen says she only feels like her parents and Toralei have been distant and isn’t actually sure. She’s apparently throwing herself into her work

Clawdeen briefly considers calling Toralei to see if everything’s ok but decides against it, saying she thinks everything’s good

I haven’t mentioned it until now since it’s mostly information we already know but the profiles list the ghouls’ ages and Cleo’s age is finally fully specified, being 5,842 years old

She’s been reading a lot of romance scrolls, like, a lot of romance scrolls.

Her bio has what I think is an in-universe song lyric due to music note emojis surrounding it “the underworld’s princess, wrapped in the finest linen”

It also @ Casta Fierce, whose username is just CastaFierce. (Maybe it’s a Casta song?)

Nefera’s apparently been talking about her having a bunch of international suitors including a guy from another dimension

Cleo seems to be, and don’t yell at me for this next part cause it’s gonna make a lot of people upset, but she seems to be falling out of love with Deuce.

Like, she seems to still like him, he’s on her friends list, she just doesn’t feel like he’s being poetic enough.

There’s schedules for MH comics coming from 2024-2025. The Pride comics might actually come in May if this calendar is correct

Jacque Aye (the author who has an interview section at the end) describes the story as following the ghouls navigating major changes in their lives as students go missing. Sounds fun honestly

Also she mentions that while prior knowledge of the series is recommended, it’s not required.

That’s basically it gang! Have fun speculating!

[mumms-the-word]

Wandering the Gray

Pairing: Gale x gn!Tav Summary: In the midst of a brutal battle against Viconia DeVir and the Sharrans, Gale finds himself in the Fugue Plane once again. But this time, he recognizes a voice echoing in the distance. ao3 link A/N: You can 100% blame a 1 minute section of The Underworld from Epic the Musical by Jorge Rivera-Herrans for this fic. That's the entire inspiration for this fic. I don't want to spoil too much but if you've heard the song you know what's coming. also I suck at titles, every other title was too spoilery to me anyways enjoy the angst CW: some mention of suicidal ideation, death, grief, sad feels in general,

The air is thick with magical darkness, thick enough to drown in, and Gale is barely hanging on by a thread. He can feel the darkness choking him as he stumbles back, narrowly dodging a blade as it arcs toward him, appearing and disappearing in the inky black. Spell effects from the others briefly illuminate the darkness like obscured lightning amidst stormclouds, but nothing is effectively dispelling the swirling black. Shadowheart had warned them this would be the Sharrans’ tactics, and they had prepared as best as they were able, but the darkness was relentless. Gale had lost sight of her and the others ages ago. Now, he dares not cast spells with wide damage, lest he harm Shadowheart, his other allies, and Tav as well as the Sharrans.

His back hits granite and he realizes too late that he’s backed himself into a wall or platform of some kind. He grips his staff, jaw clenched, ready to swing outward or thunderwave the next Sharran that emerges from the darkness. His heart thumps loudly in his chest, in his ears, and though the battle rages all around him, it’s all he can hear. Every last desperate beat of a heart that is failing, his wounds too much to bear.

He nearly freezes as Viconia herself steps through the darkness. She sneers at him, but something in her stance assures him that he’s not worth her time. Before he can so much as summon a firebolt, however, she gestures sharply toward him, uttering a curse in Drowic. He feels the curse wrap around his chest, squeezing tightly, and his head begins to swim. A barrage of thoughts crowd his mind, clawing at his every insecurity and tearing them open to be laid bare and bleeding. Inadequacy, shame, guilt, terror, they all threaten to overwhelm him.

He sucks in a breath and flings a chromatic orb of crackling lightning at Viconia, but she blocks it readily with her shield. Smirking faintly, she steps backward into the darkness, leaving Gale with her curse, like a thousand voices screaming in his mind.

Pathetic. Weak. Flew too close to the sun. Defied your goddess. A shadow of your former self. Not worth redemption. Use the orb, Gale. Kill yourself. Kill yourself!

He doesn’t see the mace come arcing down toward his head until it’s too late.

—

When he opens his eyes again, he’s not surrounded by darkness, but by shades of gray. Gray and white fog swirls slowly around him and the sky overhead is shrouded in low-hanging clouds, all dull silver. Flakes of ash drift by, born aloft by winds that he cannot feel or sense.

The Fugue Plane, he realizes distantly, looking slowly around him. There’s nothing to see. Even the flat ground beneath his feet is a colorless gray, not quite stone but not quite earth either. When he shifts, his steps kick up a fine dusting of ash, or perhaps mist, which floats upward to join the shifting fog around him. There’s not even a shadow of the looming city of the dead to look for, to guide his steps. 

Just an endless expanse of cloudy gray.

The sheer emptiness of it all settles over him immediately, threatening to make him fold. He’d hoped since the last time he died, he would never have to return. Or at least that the next time would be decades and decades away. To be back so soon…

He lifts a hand to his chest, as if seeking out the pouch that formerly rested over his heart, but he knows it’s not there. Even in the Material world, he no longer wears the pouch. Tav carries it now, though it bears little more than a scrap piece of parchment and a flute, the scroll of true resurrection used up some time ago. He knows he ought to be at least a little concerned, though logically, it won’t be the first time that Withers had dragged one of them from the Fugue Plane for a meager sum of gold. It’s just a matter of waiting.

But it is the waiting that wearies him. A moment in the Fugue Plane stretches on for aeons, in his mind. Even his movements feel weighted down. But with nothing else to do but sit or walk, he chooses to walk.

As he moves through the fog, the hush of the plane is oppressive. Like a droning whisper, the only sound he can hear is a white noise that feels thick enough to cut through yet distant enough that the source is always out of sight, out of reach. There are no words to pick out from the hush, however. As he walks, he moves through the mist alone. No other souls pass by or even materialize in the gray.

Never has he felt so desperately alone, so isolated.

But then…a voice. 

He stops and turns his head as he hears it echoing through the fog, half thinking it’s his imagination. But then he hears it again, this time clearer and closer.

“…waiting…”

He grows still and would have grown cold, had he any body left. That voice…he knows that voice.

“It can’t be,” he whispers.

“I’m waiting…”

He takes a cautious step forward, following the voice deeper into the fog, straining his ears for more of that familiar voice. It must be a trick, and yet…

“Waiting…I’m waiting…”

“Morena?” he calls through the gray, but his voice is muffled, swallowed up by fog and mist. He turns to move in the direction of her voice, following it through the swirling gray.

“My darling boy…”

“Mother!” He stumbles forward and then to a halt, a figure materializing in the mist. “Mother…”

There she sits, perched on the flat of a rock, her hands resting demurely in her lap, the same way she sits in her favorite chair on her balcony overlooking the Waterdhavian harbor. A slate gray sea laps onto the ashen shore around the rock, the rest of the waters disappearing into the dark fog. The sound of the waves should have been familiar, comforting, but the sound is quiet, as if he stands yards away rather than only a few paces from the shore.

She doesn’t turn to look at him. Instead she sits, her head turned toward the water, just as he remembers her looking the last time he visited her in Waterdeep, over a year ago. Before his fall. Before his folly. She’d been admiring the sunset then, a wistful smile on her lips, a book abandoned in her lap. Now her expression is distant and tired.

She should not be here.

“Mother,” he murmurs, venturing another cautious step closer. But she doesn’t seem to hear him. She never once glances his way as he finally reaches the rock she sits on, kneeling down near her feet. He barely notices the water soaking his robes and trousers as the sea flows up toward the rock and ebbs away. “Mum...”

Again she ignores him, her white, clouded eyes on the horizon. Or what would be the horizon, if the swirling mist were not obscuring every view. She hums absently under her breath, little melodies that are heartbreakingly familiar, but she never once looks away from that hidden horizon.

She shifts, her hands making a stroking motion as if she were petting something in her lap. “I know he’ll be home soon, Tara,” she murmurs, her voice echoing softly in the mist as it did when he was searching for her moments ago. “I don’t mind waiting for him.”

“I’m here, Mum,” he says softly, his throat closing around tears he can’t shed. He doesn’t have a body to produce tears nor a physical heart to break. So why does he feel so desperately sad? Why does it feel like he’s about to unravel completely? Some part of him still desperately hopes this is all an illusion. A trick. “I’m…I’m right here.”

But she never hears him. The souls of the dead rarely see or acknowledge each other. He knows that from his last visit to the Fugue Plane. But she can’t…she can’t be…Tara would have said if she were…

She breathes a small sigh, smiling gently to herself and looking down at her lap. “My darling boy…my little love. I do miss him, Tara. But I know he’ll return soon. And when he does, I’ll be here for him. Waiting right here, where he knows to find me.” She looks again to the distant horizon. “I don’t mind waiting…as long as it takes…”

“No,” Gale whispers. “It can’t be…when...”

The answer unfolds in his mind with dreadful certainty. It doesn't matter when.

He took too long to return to her. His year-long seclusion in his tower. The journey from the nautiloid. Months spent traveling, moving farther and farther from Waterdeep. He kept himself away for too long and left his home and his mother entirely behind, and now…

Now it is too late.

He reaches up for her hand, but his fingers pass through her and her form flickers briefly. He curls his fingers into a fist, battling the swirl of emotions inside him. Rage at himself, fear, a desperate longing to say something, do something, to get her to simply look at him. To acknowledge him.

But mostly grief. A deep, irrepressible grief that yawns within him like a chasm with no end. Black and cruel.

“I’m here,” he says again, his voice breaking. “Mum…I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry. I…”

He shouldn’t have stayed away. Yet even as he thinks it, what other choice did he have? There were no choices. There are no choices. Everything he’d done since his fall, he’d done to protect her. Every choice he makes now is for that very purpose, to save her and everyone else in Faerûn.

And now it doesn’t matter. They’re both dead. 

“I love you,” he says, looking up at her, even knowing that she can't hear him. “All my heart, Mum, I love you. Forgive me. Forgive me.” He bows his head, bringing his forehead nearly to her knee, struggling to compose himself. “Forgive me…”

The hush of the plane and the faint sound of the sea are all that respond. But then a featherlight touch brushes his hair. He looks up, scarcely daring to hope.

His mother gazes down at him, her white eyes focused on him. When she sees him staring back at her, she smiles softly.

“My darling boy,” she murmurs, brushing the backs of her fingers against his cheek. Her voice still bears that distant, echoing tone, as if she’s a thousand miles away. “It’s time for you to wake up.”

“Wake up?”

“Wake up, my love,” she says again, and this time her voice sounds even more distant. Altered. Not quite her own. She covers his eyes with her hand, shutting his eyes for him, and he drifts into darkness. “Wake up.” 

“Gale! Wake up!”

His eyes fly open and he gasps, his lungs desperate for air. He looks around wildly, expecting more of the Fugue Plane, but instead he finds the familiar wooden walls and ceiling of the Elfsong Tavern. He turns his head to find Tav staring at him, their eyes wide with worry.

“Tav?” he mumbles.

“It was just a dream, love,” Tav says, brushing a hand over his sweat-soaked forehead, pushing his hair from his face. “I’ve been trying to wake you for a while now.”

“A dream…” He struggles to make sense of it, but slowly the pieces fall into place. 

Their fight at the House of Grief, where Gale had very nearly died. Nearly, but not quite. He remembers going with Shadowheart to free her parents, only to realize that their freedom meant their deaths. It had weighed on Gale’s spirit, watching her parents smile at their daughter mere seconds before turning into motes of light. He remembers thinking it was an impossible choice, one he couldn't have made on his own.

Something about it seems to have stayed with him. Even now, he half-fears that his dream is more than a dream. A premonition, perhaps, or a glimpse of the future.

Gods, he hopes not.

He sits up, rubbing his hands over his face. His shirt sticks to his sweat-soaked back and he wants nothing more than to splash his face and neck with cold water. But first—

“Where’s Tara?” he asks, dropping his hands.

Tav’s eyebrows draw together. “Tara?”

“I’m here, Mr. Dekarios.” She hops onto the back of the bed where it shares a backboard with Karlach’s. Tara always had an uncanny knack for being nearby whenever she was needed. She licks at one paw before fluffing her feathers and fixing her gaze on him. “Oh my. You look as though you’ve seen a ghost, Mr. Dekarios.”

He huffs a shaky laugh, but it’s without humor. “I almost fear I have, Tara. Tell me—this must sound like I’m mad but—my mother. Is she well?”

“Mrs. Dekarios? She’s as fit as ever, last I saw.”

“And how long ago was that?”

“Why, only just the other day,” Tara said, flicking her ears. “I check on her regularly, you know. I wouldn’t miss our evening tea time for the world.”

Gale breathes a sigh of relief, dropping his head in his hands again. It was just a dream. Just a horrible dream. Probably left over from Viconia’s fear curse that had struck him during the battle earlier that day.

He feels Tav’s hand rubbing comfortingly against his back. “Gale? Is everything okay?”

“Yes,” he mumbles. He takes a deep breath and drops his hands again, leaning back against the pillows. “Yes. My apologies. It was a bad dream, like you said.”

Tav is quiet for a moment before cuddling close, wrapping their arms around his middle. He shifts so that his arm is around their shoulders, his fingers trailing absently along their arm.

“Was it about your mother?” they ask quietly.

Gale’s throat closes up, but his silence his answer enough. He clears his throat quietly. “I saw her in the Fugue Plane. A dead soul.”

He can say no more. He reaches up to press his thumb and forefinger against his eyes, as if to block the tears that sting behind his lids. Even the thought of her sitting alone on her balcony, waiting for him, while he puts himself in more and more danger, is enough to break him. He takes a shuddering breath and Tav wraps their arms tighter around him.

“It’s okay,” they whisper. “I’m here.”

“I know. I…thank you.” He manages to compose himself enough to lower his hand and turn his head toward Tara. Her feline eyes glint in the darkness, watching him in silence. “Tara, will you—”

“I assure you, Mr. Dekarios, your mother is hale and hearty,” she says. “And we both have the utmost confidence that you’ll wrap up this Absolute business in time for the upcoming holidays, which you will be spending in Waterdeep, of course.”

“Of course,” Gale says, managing a smile. “But I have a request. I want you to go home.”

Tara blinks, and though she controls most of her expression he sees the fur on her neck start to rise. “Home? And leave you behind?”

“Please Tara,” he says. He rubs a hand against Tav’s back, knowing they’re listening quietly. “I will be fine here. You know you can trust Tav to look after me. But I need someone there to look after Morena. There’s no one more suited to the task than you.”

Tara’s tail flicks several times as she regards him in disdainful silence. But then her fur settles and she looks away. “Very well, Mr. Dekarios.”

“And don’t tell her anything. I don’t want her to worry.”

“Very well, Mr. Dekarios. If that is what you wish.”

“It is.” He knows he’s just worrying too much, but his dream has shaken him. Better to have Tara there, just in case, than to spend weeks wondering and worrying. “Thank you, Tara.”

“You’re quite welcome. But I shall expect you home within a few tendays, you know.”

Gale chuckles, settling in with Tav at his side. “We’ll see what we can do. Safe travels, Tara.”

“You as well, Mr. Dekarios. And you,” she directs her next words to Tav, who turns their head to look up at her. “Do see to it that he does not suffer more bad dreams.”

With that slight admonition, she hops down and disappears into the darkness.

Gale breathes a small sigh, shifting to get more comfortable and wrapping Tav more tightly in his embrace. “You should get some rest, my love. It’s still quite early in the morning.”

“What about you?” they whisper, their cheek resting on his chest.

He’s quiet for a moment. “I fear that after a dream like that, I’m wary of falling asleep again.” 

His dreams rarely repeat in the same night, but he can’t shake the irrational fear that if he falls asleep again, he’ll just find himself back in the Fugue Plane. Searching for his mother.

“Hmm…” Tav turns their head to rest their chin on his chest, looking up at him. “Then I’ll stay awake for a bit too.”

“You don’t have to—”

“I want to.” They shift to bring their lips up to kiss him before settling back where they were, pressed against his side with their cheek on his chest. “Talk to me for a bit. Tell me about your mother.”

“My mother? What would you like to know?”

“Everything. Whatever you feel comfortable with sharing.”

Gale pauses to think. Where does one begin when it comes to the venerable Morena Dekarios? But despite his hesitation, he’s grateful Tav is asking. He knows they’re only trying to distract him, but it helps. 

“Well,” he begins. “My mother is the inimitable, dare I say unavoidable, Morena Dekarios. She resides in Waterdeep, in a home overlooking the harbor…”

As he speaks, telling Tav of his mother’s quirks, her affection for him, the way she seems to know everyone, her favorite dishes, her talents, and more, his anxieties eventually fade away. It’s as though speaking of her like this, in the present tense, is proof that she is well. And would still be well when he finally returns to her. 

After a while Tav yawns, their voice heavy with sleep as they mumble, "She sounds lovely, Gale. I can't wait to meet her."

He smiles softly and presses a little kiss to Tav's hair. "Nor I, my love. I'm certain she will adore you."

Tav hides their sleepy smile in his chest and soon their breathing evens out, a sure sign they've been lulled to sleep. Gale listens to them breathing for a moment, grateful for every breath. Grateful, too, that they were willing to stay up and listen to him mumble quietly about his mother for an hour, of all things to talk about.

It’s enough to soothe his guilty conscience for the night. His dream was just a dream, he's more certain of that now. And one day, hopefully soon, he'll be back in Morena's parlor again, suffering her affectionate chiding and introducing her to the love of his life. The thought brings a smile to his face and he closes his eyes, comforted by daydreams of Tav meeting Morena Dekarios.

The daydreams soon bring with them the wave of exhaustion and at last he gives in, closing his eyes and drifting away for a few scant hours of dreamless sleep.

[moodyseal]

i hear you are 🤡clowning🤡 over Commodus coming to his senses so I have slid into your inbox to 🤡clown🤡 with you about it

What 🤡clown🤡 thoughts have you been harboring about this���

for science.

🤡<-me and you

SOMEONE WILLING TO CLOWN WITH ME A BIT okay uhm. I was mostly having thoughts about the reasons for his behaviour, actually, and in the end I came to the conclusion that he's not entirely unredeemable, or at least he wasn't up until the fight at the Waystation in TDP, where he became a serious threat to the lives of the people who lived there (and actually got Heloise killed)

Like, if you ignore for a moment his past deeds and historical background (because if we accepted the atrocities as quirky parts of Apollo's personality we can do the same for him /j) and look at what he actually did for the first two thirds of the book, you'll notice that he wasn't as cruel as, say, Caligula or Nero. For example, he didn't kill all the prisoners he was holding captive, like Caligula would've done, even if Georgina (and maybe Hunter, since she's one of Artemis' hunters) was the only one that was actually useful in luring Apollo in, and at the end of the book he was still agreeing to let everyone go as long as Apollo and Meg went with him.

This shows that he is capable of some kind of restraint and not totally incapable to be reasoned with, which makes for some solid villain redemption arc material; the only problems, other than his small bloodlust problem that, again, we'll skip over for now and deal with some other day, are

a) the behavioural issues his relationship with his father led to (that could've been actually dealt with if only someone told him that therapists are an option today),

b) his ugly, horrid desire of revenge against Apollo,

and c) his narcissistic tendencies, which resulted in him not acknowledging the whole concept of. You know. Other people's feelings and how his actions might affect them.

They're all intrinsically tied together, and as a whole they're the main reason why, in the past as well as after his death and deification, Commodus was unwilling to accept any sort of help or suggestion coming from the people around him, and Apollo specifically. Before his death, he didn't acknowledge that there was a problem with his behaviour at all; to him, his actions were always right, and the people around him were vilifying him when he didn't deserve it, all while trying to suffocate his desires and needs. The lack of his father's support throughout his adolescence only intensified those feelings, and at the same time rendered him all the more vulnerable, making him latch strongly onto anyone he felt like would always support him—Apollo, in this case. Inevitably, the betrayal of the only person he trusted unconditionally (which was done for Rome and its citizens' own good, but was still a betrayal) had an explosive result, leading to Commodus' attitude worsening, him becoming effectively deaf to the guidance of anyone who didn't agree with him (when in the past there was a chance that maybe he would have listened to Apollo, at least, had he intervened sooner) and, finally, him making his life's goal destroying Apollo's life.

Despite the fact that any last bit of love Commodus had for him turned into blinding hatred, though, there were still some feelings in his heart that weren't rage. He didn't show them; on the contrary, he tried to hide them, and that's because they were a sign that there was still some vulnerability left in him—that he cared, to a degree. Had Commodus' revenge been the two dimensional kind, where he didn't give any sign of care about what happened two thousand years before and operated solely on the train of thought of "kill, maim, destroy" even when he barely thought about Apollo being the reason he died, I wouldn't have thought of there being a chance of him coming to his senses. But instead, with these feelings, Commodus demonstrated that he didn't forget, and that as much as he hid himself behind his glitter and his spectacles and his luxurious palaces, what Apollo did ultimately affected him. He still cared about what Apollo did in the past, and about what he was doing in the present too. In a way (and this is purely my personal perception, as everything I've written above is) it seemed that, consciously or subconsciously, he was even waiting for some sort of feedback, for a response that Apollo didn't give.

Why else would he insist so much? For what other purpose would he throw back his death in Apollo's face again and again, if not to get a reaction out of him?

I don't actually know how, exactly, it would be possible to fix all these issues, as well as their relationship. I have thought a lot about a scenario where Commodus realizes he's in the wrong, where Apollo manages to bring him to the good side just like he did with Lityerses, and this behaviour of his is exactly the reason why I never figured out how it would happen. How do you help someone who doesn't want to be helped? Apollo tried and failed, didn't he?

Maybe not enough.

It's true that Commodus was a selfish, arrogant man, as it is true that Apollo tried to help him, only giving up on his insistence when the man he loved went down a path of no return. It's also true that he didn't reprimand him for what he did once, trying to get to him through good humour and support, being too permissive when Commodus didn't need permissiveness, but some strength of character from someone he trusted. It's also true that Apollo never apologized.

I don't remember much about TDP and TTT, but didn't Apollo never mention once to Commodus the reasons for what he did? He cried about that day on his own, never with him, never showing Commodus that he has suffered for that murder just as much as he did.

Maybe the apology wouldn't have changed anything, maybe Commodus would've stayed the same ruthless man he's been for the whole series. But I like to think that it could've potentially stirred something inside him anyway.

[thenerdyalien]

26 3

First of all, thank you so much for the ask! I've been wanting to participate in one of these Merlin ask games for a while <3

26. Post Merlin Headcanons?

Alright, while I usually like to believe that Merlin never returned to Camelot after Camlann (for angst reasons), I still think that Merlin would have come back (if not for Arthur, at least for Gwen and Gaius). He wouldn't return right away, but some months after Gwen's coronation (maybe after hearing some news of Camelot or how Gwen is doing as queen), and he and Gwen would bond again over their shared grief for Arthur and become a strong unit of platonic besties ruling over Camelot. Merlin would help Gwen lift the magic ban and maybe even help her raise Arthur's kid if she had gotten pregnant in the aftermath of Camlann...idk I just think it would be cute and together they wouldn't feel so lonely after Arthur's death.

In fact, I may or may not have a fic with that exact premise sitting in my drafts right now 👀

3. Villain you think deserved another chance.

Does Morgana count? Because I will forever be a Morgana apologist (up until Season 4 at least) and I really believe she deserved a better villian arc in the show (not just being reduced to a smirking villian). And what's frustrating about the writing in the show is that the pieces for that arc were already there in S1-S2, but the writers just wanted to speed-up her villian arc and ended up butchering her character in the process. But, even after everything, i still think she deserved some sort of redemption (at least in relation to the way she treated Arthur and Gwen). I mean, they didn't even have to do much, they could have just borrowed that storyline from the legends where Morgana is the one to go on the boat with him at the end and guides him to Avalon to heal before his time to return. It was all right there!!

Sorry if this is super long, apparently I had a lot of thoughts about this 😅

[andreal831]

Do you consider Elijah to be redeemable?

It depends what you mean by redeemable.

If we are talking in terms of TVDU standards, sure. If we are talking in terms of normal standards for redemption, probably not.

In TVDU, there's this expression everyone likes to use, "they aren't evil, just broken." I hate this expression. Very few people in life or in fiction are straight evil because it is not very compelling. Villains with tragic backstories give complexity to the story. If you look at the vast majority of villains in any fiction, they will have origin stories that make them behave the way they do. But this doesn't excuse their evil acts. Which is why I hate the expression. Sure, they weren't born that way and we can blame whatever events made them that way, but until the character/writers take accountability, redemption is not possible.

A redemption arc needs a fleshed out character with a lot of dimension. Aka a good backstory with complex plots throughout with internal/external conflicts, accountability, and change of behavior. The Mikaelsons are set up decently for redemption arcs since the more dramatic/terrible their origin story is, the more likely people will root for them. That's why we see so many characters who honestly haven't done nearly as many bad things as the main characters get less chances from the audience for redemption. There needs to be something to make the audience sympathize with why they are behaving that way. It's also why we often see villains with tragic childhoods, because what tugs on the heartstrings more than seeing a broken child who can't protect themselves so they learn to be evil so they will never be hurt again.

Elijah has a good backstory, at least if you are paying attention to him. Some of his backstory gets lost in Klaus since the show focuses so hard on him. But Elijah canonically grew up in an abusive household. He was pretty neglected and given a lot of responsibility at a young age. He was also growing up in a very different time and likely didn't learn proper ways to cope with life/emotions. His brother dies and then his father kills him. He's then forced to turn into a vampire and loses the woman he loves and the future he hoped for. This is all just the first 1% of his life. Throughout his life, he is dealing with his siblings, his vampirism, losing people, being betrayed by the people he loves, etc. This all creates a pretty sympathetic villain. Especially when you look at his motivations.

Elijah's motivations change a bit throughout the shows. In TVD, he really comes across as a family man. He is ready to kill Klaus for what he did to their siblings and is constantly trying to reunite with all of them (including Finn and Kol). Now when we go over to TO, his motivation seems to revolve around Klaus and Hope with Rebekah not far behind. His motivations help with his redemption, even if his limited focus in TO is annoying. Killing for the thrill of it is harder to redeem than killing for the protection of family. While it doesn't make it okay, most people can understand the reasoning. I've said it before, I don't defend Elijah for all of his actions, but at the same time, I can't say most people wouldn't do anything to protect their families.

Unlike a lot of the Mikaelsons, Elijah does seem to take some accountability for his actions. He knows what he is. He's not proud of it and feels deep guilt for his actions. The issue we get into with Elijah is we don't see a lot of positive change of behavior. He has a moral code, one that was much stricter in TVD, and continues to get blurred the more his is pushed into a corner. I often blame the writers for switching out his personality traits with Klaus in order to build Klaus' redemption because we do see Klaus become more family focused and less blood thirsty in season 3/4 while Elijah seems to go off the rails, killing anything he perceives to be a threat (like a certain paranoid hybrid we know). The writers do this because, again, Elijah is the more redeemable of the two. Klaus's motivations have always held him back for that. It's hard to redeem a character who kills for fun and takes joy in abusing their family members. But a family man who acts to protect their family, even if it's by doing terrible things, is much easier to work in a redemption arch.

Since TO is focused on the Mikaelsons, I think they all could have had redemptions. Again redemption in the context of TVDU. Practically everyone but Elijah gets a redemption/chance at a happy ending. Although, I tend to disagree that Klaus actually had one. Elijah's positive motivation and fatal flaws were intertwined. His attachment to his family made him do terrible things. I've written a story, The Last Sacrifice, which I think gives Elijah a type of redemption that is possible for his character. Yes, it does involve him sacrificing himself for his family. I think this is the only true redemption for him since he was so willing to sacrifice others for his family, it needed to come full circle. He could improve his character and his behaviors in a lot of ways, but it's not truly a redemption since he isn't learning from his past behaviors. Again, his fatal flaw is harming people for his family to stay together, so for him, to make the ultimate sacrifice for his family to stay together, even without him, would be a sort of redemption.

The reason I say no for normal standards is because the Mikaelsons, each and every one of them, have all just done too many bad things. They could sacrifice themselves for the world but it still wouldn't really change anything. It wouldn't fix the harm they've caused in the world or their underlying questionable motivations. Now, I know redemption arcs don't need to solve all the past problems, but the Mikaelsons are inherently morally grey at best. It's hard to keep them in character while also truly redeeming them. I love them, but they are not good people.

Thanks for the ask!

[lemonlover1110]

MONEY? CASH? DINERO? that was why??? lemon i need you to hold my earrings while i fight him. holy fuck, I figured Changes Gojo was a piece of work for how he left Y/N but I was hoping the reason would at least soften the blow. he deserves absolutely NOTHING from her outside of a decent coparenting relationship. why is he being all weird about answering the “agreement” he has with sayo? i know he’s hiding more but atp nothing he says as of right now will change anything.

the ONLY reason he regrets it now is because of Ren. he tried to fire Y/N and showed almost no consideration for her until he realized he has a son with her. in a way, she’s right that he did make the correct choice. he showed her that she was disposable if it meant he could live a luxurious life (that isn’t a necessity for anybody) and that he didn’t love her enough to figure something out if his family lost their wealth.

i hope that this revelation helps her find some type of closure with her personal relationship with him. maybe she can finally close the chapter on their romantic relationship now that she got an answer. i was really hoping the reason would be something honorable but he’s just another man here holy shit 😭 y/n sweetie you deserve better and I truly hope you get it.

lemon thank you so much for the chapter! it really hurt 😭 i’m wondering if there’s anything gojo can do to redeem himself in y/n’s eyes or if he’s just gonna be a disappointment till the end of the series. i’m super excited to see where this goes! btw, feel free to not respond, but how many more chapters left do you think? again, thank you and i hope you’re having a good week (and that the ** readers are being respectful to you) 🥰

but haha what if he’s lying and can’t tell y/n the truth haha (i’m so delusional rn)

sifjsifj perhaps he'll have some sort of redemption arc! I'm really not sure if she'll end up with him still or with someone else (I will tell y'all to not get your hopes up for Suguru) but I think that Changes might have 30 chapters?? either a little less or a little more but it definitely doesn't have much left

thankfully those readers haven't pissed me off so the next chapter should come out a little faster this time

[muzzleroars]

hmmhmfsgh I love all your work so much, your concepts for the lore of Ultrakill are so interesting, and I wanna eat your art style it's so good

I have a question regarding Lucifer: after everything has calmed down with all the archangels, would it be possible for him to be freed? If they realized he was put away unjustly, could Michael unbind him? Are the chains unbreakable, or would Michael be too afraid/stubborn to go back on the decision?

aaaa thank you!! and i'm so glad i get the chance to talk about this...because i think this is ultimately how michael's redemption arc would have to end and how he could be released from the guilt he's carried all this time. it would come when michael has recalled his mercy, when he is at ease with gabriel's position in hell and has more or less taken up his role as prince of heaven to help what remains of his citizens rather than continue attempting to condemn hell and its sinners (including a very important apology to the ferryman). gabriel would know the time is right to show him to that testament, to reveal to him god's own shame at casting lucifer out and all the lies they must have been told since - he shows it to all the archangels, but it is michael's decision which matters the most. and i think, in feeling that ugly remorse he's carried for eons finally fall on his head, he would make the determination that lucifer's imprisonment is unjust. he must be released...the decision, however, is met with immediate opposition.

gabriel is the least opposed, though he believes in taking this much more methodically and being sure he and v1 aren't left with what might be a bigger problem than they can handle. raphael is outright against it, stating that lucifer is surely far too much now warped by hell to be trustworthy, even if he agrees the original binding was wrong. uriel supports his points, going further to put forth the idea that lucifer may not even be himself by now, instead more an avatar of hell instead given how it's connected to him so thoroughly. michael is staunch in his stance, however, impressing upon them the utter depravity of any decision other than freeing him as soon as possible - he was innocent, and he's endured unending torture trapped in a pit devoid of god's light. regardless of his state, keeping him chained now would be the most hideous act of cruelty heaven could carry out. unfortunately, they can reach no conclusion with raphael and uriel unswayed and gabriel not entirely agreeing with michael's admittedly emotional plan. so they end the discussion at odds, but that hardly matters to michael. he will go with or without their help.

v2 knows this almost immediately, when he comes to see it afterward. didn't go his way, it can tell. but v2 lets him know that hardly matters as it knows what he's thinking now too, and it will join him whenever he's ready. michael of course tries to insist it's unnecessary, but v2 counters that it's not all about him - lucifer is serving out a sentence that should never have been passed, and v2's nature can't abide by that. they will do what's right, even if it's so late, and v2 is proud of him. michael, in return, is greatly humbled and infinitely grateful toward v2 once more, like he has been several times now when it's saved him, yet v2 tells him he'll have to save any praise until they're done. they're both well aware of what they're about to do in the silent pause that follows, but michael leads them on when the moment has passed and he prepares to undertake his final penance. the one he's always been waiting on.

freeing lucifer proves to be just as brutal as he always thought it would have to be. satan in its suffering form, bound up into a dragon that wears his halo skewed and nailed to its face, bodies of angels twisted up into a hard carapace covered in scales of a thousand faces crying out to him. its belly cut open, pouring forth the flayed and decayed corpses of those that were lucky enough not to survive their fall, while michael's own spear pins lucifer to its chest. and hell itself growing onto and into them all, burrowing under shattered wings and into its grotesque frame, with lucifer now seemingly unable to hear michael. whatever it is fights autonomously against them, instinct ruled by agony and lashing out against anything that dare come near it. with each chain michael severs, it grows more wild, encased in ice that begins to crack with deep, resounding shockwaves that carry through all of hell. it alerts gabriel and v1, who move together without a word straight to treachery (gabriel knew this would be the outcome, so they're relatively prepared) and do what they can to support michael and v2. as more chains fall, raphael and uriel appear to plead with michael to stop, yet they too protect him in what ways they can even though he refuses to heed them. he hears nothing but the pain of the monstrosity before him, his own dead body numb to all the damage it does, yet able to feel it in white hot phantoms. he could be torn apart and he would never cease, he is already a corpse anyway. and when he has done away with all the chains, those that could only be unbound by his will, he finally pulls the central spear from its heart...and the beast collapses in a great flood of blood and cinder.

from without, a great sigh of relief rushes over them all, so many of the angels that had been held in that form dying instantly upon its release, and they are glad of it (there is the briefest, faintest sound of a hymn of many voices long since forgotten) stronger angels scatter almost as quickly, unused to a free form and so taken by it immediately to follow the howling winds of hell. only lucifer remains, hands buried in the ash around him and so very aware of every life lost, a name for each voice that only he now knows. only michael goes to him with weapons tossed aside, calling out to him finally once more by his own name that he has long forgotten. yet still, michael, he knows. michael has come and the world must have ended. this is his time, this is their revelation, and lucifer stands on the ashes of all the angels he led to death. he asks to be struck down just as michael reaches him. no more. no eternity of torment. no lake of fire. free him as he has all these other souls, and free the ones that escaped - they know not how they run, they mean no offense. they will surrender to michael as he does now, so long as he destroys them entirely. please. they have sinned and done wrong, now let it end and have your kingdom of peace. let the world be free of suffering within and without. let it be perfect.

it is unthinkable, unknowable, when michael finally speaks after being stricken so still and silent, when he tells lucifer there is no battle, that he came only to free him. not for a thousand years to reign on earth, but for whatever they have left. he is sorry he couldn't save all of them, he is sorry he has come so late, he is sorry his spear ever pierced into lucifer's side and drew the first blood of god's creation. he is sorry he comes to him like this, michael already dead and lucifer a burned out husk in the blood of all those that should still be in paradise. lucifer doesn't seem to take in what he says, or, more likely, he can't, and so only continues to repeat his request, asking michael to at least kill the rest of them. even if lucifer must be left to suffer forever, let it be in solitude. michael only reaches him once he admits god's death, that everything done now is his own will and he releases lucifer from this place...a ringing silence, the whole of hell letting out a long groan. lucifer is what remains of him now, god's own fire still lifting to the dead air in sparks from his charred body. and he screams terribly, millennia of grief, of anger, of deepest hatred, tearing through the halls of hell as his fire lights briefly once more to illuminate a brutally dark, brutally cold cavern to see god's light for the first time. it can't last long, he can't bear it anymore, and he has much more to do if that hatred can no longer find a place. let lucifer bury his dead, let him divide out these ashes into all the angels he once knew even if it takes him one thousand years to make every grave. let him find those that ran, even if they have reached the four corners of the world by now, to offer his apologies for what he did to them. let him seek out the few left of the damned so they know how he regrets bringing sin into the world. let him be sure this can exist as a place where the love of god will never be known, let his own name be forgotten in every soul that managed to survive his tyranny.

THIS IS VERY LONG....but essentially, at least starting out, lucifer needs to actually largely be left alone. he is relatively unresponsive to outsiders, gabriel the only one of the group that can engage him at all in the beginning, and he is more often heard singing in hymns none of them can understand. he travels through all of hell, though he seems increasingly uneasy the higher he climbs and often returns to his place in treachery by his own accord. far from being the ultimate presence of evil they came to believe he was, lucifer is clearly a being broken, a being that's forgotten all his joy, all his memories of heaven, instead locked into mourning. raphael and uriel in particular feel great guilt over disputing his freedom, seeing how he buries each angel he lost, how he preserves their names and relates, to no one, their whole lives in heaven before they came here. he tells of the work they did, of the happiness they made, he eulogizes each of them in words that must have run through his head countless times, words he never thought he'd get the chance to speak. he needs a true grieving period before any significant progress can be made with him, yet there are always sparks of the old lucifer. something is lighter in him seeing the damned minos cares for, actually able to see the city they built here. he rejoices, in quiet, muted ways with each fallen angel he retrieves, and he wishes to make hell a place they can all share in with him. even hell itself. it has suffered too, after all.

[yellowbluemoonshine]

Bnha 391 and General Small Comment;

Ok so i didnt like a lot of things with bnha lately for most of the things, especially how story deal with its villains. Yeah, it is not over but until now, i dont think its good. Story focus on power more than it focus on actually adressing the flaws of society author build up at first place.

- Deku hasnt speak to Shigaraki yet but until this point, the way he dealt with villains, his interaction with them isnt good enough. like, you cant change things by keep saying everthing black and white or saying there is hope. I think story didnt give enough  character development for Izuku to come that point so at least, i hope, Shiggy will do something about it.

- Todoroki family plot bad. It was always bad because of how much story focus on Endeavour’s bad written redemption arc, he literally choose everyone over Touya since beginning until the end, i hate how he casually hugs him and speak over him when Touya was talking. Guy kinda feels guilty, yeah, but he express that ‘guilt’ in a very selfish way that it drives me nuts. Literally your typical abuser. I cant believe of all people, Endeavour has to be the one who close to him, not Rei, not his siblings but him...And with other family members too. I think some people already talked about this, that main problem with Todoroki family is that they keep blaming him for speaking up and once again, if this is the final arc for Todo family, Fuyumi and Natsuo’s speech sucks.

With Shouto, i think the problem is that bnha is a story about saving people’s hearth, not psychically defeating them and as readers, we should witness that change between Shouto and Dabi, that beginning point (like ‘your power’ scene for Shouto) didnt happen yet. And i wonder, do anyone remember um fake heroes plot? Endeavour’s bad hero career with how violently he attacks towards criminal from Twice’s speech chapter or how he almost killed Koichi in vigilantes? Dabi’s speech? What is the point of all of these things, if its not gonna be adressed properly, especially between Dabi and Shouto since they are villain and hero. I know its not over but until now, it was bad. To be honest, only thing i am satisfied with Todo family plot is Rei and Touya interaction. It looks like the only one its completed for final arc. Because she literally choose Touya over millions to save him, no justification, no victim blaming, no anger, just a worried mother, calling her son’s name and tells that she is sorry, and thats it. She doesnt make whole speech and self pity, unlike Bakugou and Endeavour. See the difference. And if author wasnt so obsessed with Endeavour’s nonexistent redemption arc, i am sure that we would get more of Rei. She did what she could do best for Touya as civillian, ordinary person. This part of story is fine but others? Bad.

- Allmight and others too. I dont want to talk about every detail because you know the summary, flaws of society isnt adressed properly/at all and story focus on power dynamic and etc.

But for at least this chapter, i would like to say, i kinda like this one. Uraraka and Toga development, interaction. At first, Uraraka would brush off everything Toga said and does, which makes sense since she was from other side. And Toga would talk your typical villain but after that Toga crying scene, Uraraka seems to be able empathize with her than many other heroes ever could for villains. The way she just accepted that she was wrong about her, that she changed her mind, she also knows that she is in pain and she says sorry, she is not angry, she is not rejecting her, she tells her that she found her. I mean, look at her face when she speaks to her. Like, great start, Uraraka. I think there are still many issues with story and how fast everything happens but i really like this one. It feels like an actually hero speech who geniuely wants to empathize with villain, completely stranger, just a girl who is like her. Unlike before, she doesnt talk like a robot with ‘you did commit crime so everything happens to you, you deserve it’ type of attitude. No. This time Uraraka is different.

At least for this chapter, for now, Uraraka Ochaco is rising.

Edit; I made it Clear that i write this based on my personal opinion. Literally, every second of this post is "i think". Certain people use this to insult and harass me. It just shows what kind of people they are. If you disagree, make your own post without mentioning/making me involve in any way. Of course, if you want to debate about series with respect, i dont mind. I dont think being kind is too hard.

[blqckbeard]

izzy hands rant (antis dni)

okay so, i don't actually know how to explain it, but i've been kinda sad since today's episodes dropped. i've always liked izzy and i've never agreed with takes such as "his redemption arc came outta nowhere" because to me it just makes sense that it ended up happening.

however, there's this feeling now that his story arc is just... over. he's not an angry little man anymore, he's not mean anymore, and i LOVED when he was complicated. i loved when he was an asshole but you could still see the motives underneath and sympathize with him. now he's just... coping so well, acting so healthily (which he deserves!!!). but i guess i expected the conversation between him and ed to go a little deeper, to be a little more... honest and complicated. for them to be more vocal about their feelings and actually talk things out. it might still happen, of course, but since there's only an episode left i'm already trying to cope with the fact that it'll be at least another year until we get to see them again. and with izzy's arc seemingly coming to a close i'm worried he'll just get cast aside.

then there are the theories going around about izzy dying. i don't want his arc to be over just like that, to end with him sacrificing himself, because he's found a home for the first time in his life and he deserves to keep it. i want to see him with the crew for a lot more episodes.

if anyone has reassuring thoughts about either of the points i've made, please do share. i am suffering over here.

[pet-genius]

Snape Theories and Theory of Mind

This is more a rant than anything else, and doesn't really go anywhere, but, idk, I missed writing on here. Feel free to offer more examples <3 Snape is a character whose motivations remain oblique for 6.9 out of 7 books, and his motivations are also remarked upon for 6.9 out of 7 books as something important and pivotal, which means people probably reach The Prince's Tale with a pretty well-formed idea, and end up fitting what we find out there into what they already thought. I am old enough to remember Snape hate used to center on the idea that he is a true Death Eater, and the end of HBP didn't help things there. Nowadays we of course have been aware of the truth for a while, and many people probably picked up the books already knowing The Dumbledore Twist, and the Lily Connection. Here is something I myself fell for: the idea that Snape knew the prophecy would target an infant, and didn't care, until it ended up Lily's infant. To be honest, I... don't hate it. The Snape who delivered the prophecy was probably eager and self-serving, and I think a redemption arc is more effective if it starts from a low point indeed. There's a case to be made that he wouldn't have felt morally obligated to some whatever baby (which only makes the fact that he then risked himself for Neville more compelling, imo). It took this essay (in general, a must read for every Potterhead) to convince me that not only is this interpretation not canon, it's not even that viable. I like to think of myself as reasonably intelligent and unreasonably fond of Snape, so what happened there? I knew the prophecy meant Harry/Neville. I knew Snape switched sides because of Lily. I knew he had no qualms about the act of delivering the prophecy per se... but I forgot Snape didn't know the prophecy meant Harry/Neville, and so the rest of the extrapolation is moot. We don't know what Past!Snape would have done if he had heard it more clearly referenced an infant. It's Dumbledore who actually helpfully clears it up for him, explaining that it doesn't mean Lily Potter, but an infant. I had in mind the whole picture and I projected this knowledge onto Snape. This is a lack of theory of mind (the ability to attribute beliefs, motivations, etc. to other people). I don't think I generally suffer from a deficiency in that regard - if you ask me where's your phone, I won't assume you know because I know. But with Snape, this keeps happening. Another one: Snape knew Lupin was a werewolf before he went inside the tunnel. We know Lupin is a werewolf, and we know Snape knew as much by the time he said "every full moon?", but somehow the false projection from our own internal state leads us (yes, me too, at some point) to a frankly nonsensical conclusion, which is that Lily says "I know your theory [that Lupin is a werewolf]" and then, seconds later, "I heard what happened the other [full moon] night. You went sneaking down that tunnel by the Whomping Willow, and James Potter saved you from whatever’s down there [but I won't ask why you went anywhere on a full moon night knowing there's a werewolf about]". For the record, whatever Snape thought he was walking toward makes no difference to how reprehensible Sirius's trick was, but that's not the point here - the point is the judgment on characters based on our internal state.

Another one - the idea that Snape hated Sirius so much he knew Peter was the traitor, and didn't tell anyone. Now, personally, I never even remotely fell for that one, not least because the text eliminates this possibility before it's even revealed that Snape was a Death Eater. But some people seem to believe it. The Lily connection is a reveal that makes it believable that Snape would go from self-serving Death Eater to Dumbledore's loyal spy and protect Harry unto death even though he hated Harry, and yet somehow, readers manage to come up with ideas like "all he ever did, he did out of a desire to avenge Lily." They stretch the Lily connection to explain much more than it ever was meant to explain, because it's a solid fact, and Snape's general protectiveness of everyone beside Harry doesn't fit in with their already formed belief, to the point that they would twist him into something that isn't recognizably human.

I don't really have a point here, I just think it's interesting. Snape is almost a study in theory of mind, as you constantly have to dig up context clues for why he is reacting in this way or that, whom he is performing to and what he does when he's alone, etc., and yet there are so many failures of theory of mind there. It's also interesting because, in his treatment of Harry, Snape does very much the same thing. He can't ever consider the possibility that Harry is not James, and that to Harry, Snape is the powerful one. He legitimately seems to think Harry hates him for no reason, just like his father did. It's almost like a failure of legilimency there: nearly every time Snape might be using legilimency on Harry without Harry's knowledge, Harry is lying or fantasizing about hurting Snape, or doing some other thing that would trigger Snape's failed theory of mind. More information did not help Snape understand Harry better, just as it does not help Snape's haters understand him better.

[justallihere]

I have a few fan theories for SITQ. Some of these happen in the distant future (like probably after the story ends) so idk if that would make them easier to answer? You also don’t have to answer any

Violet’s stiff fingers make it hard to wear a ring, so Xaden has them remade into a necklace somehow (but without melting the rings because they still mean something as rings… they can be clipped into place on the pendant idk)

Mira stabs Brennan at least 2x. After all, she was closer with him than Violet was, so she would probably feel even more betrayed

Jesinia makes an appearance and tells Violet thanks for teaching those signs to Sawyer. Or maybe it’s not even specifically about Jesinia at all and Violet has done a much wider public service!

Dain does one more good thing that moves him slightly further along his redemption arc, and also he gets to say a full apology to Violet without her cutting him off (not that I like Dain that much but this would feel consistent with what you’ve written so far… also I do think apologies in general are important)

If Violet and Xaden eventually do have kids then they wouldn’t be raised as royalty because they’d try to transition Tyrrendor into full democracy? I haven’t fully thought this one through but they just strike me as such protective would-be parents that they wouldn’t want their kids to be in the same spotlight that they were? The same spotlight that just put Violet in danger this past chapter? idk

The second Navarrian prince (Alic?) is still a jerk and still alive given that your Xaden didn’t kill him (and wouldn’t have been close in age anyway, unless you bumped up his age too). First, that means Cam doesn’t have reason to hate Xaden, which we already know. But does that also impact Cam’s motivations? Like, is Cam even more frustrated that no one in his family, not even the rider, cares about venin?

Again, you don’t have to answer any of these! But your fic has really reminded me/made me think through some details in the book, and I’m now fully invested in not just Violet and Xaden but also all the background characters! I love how well you write!!

Okay let’s see what I can do here:

1. Yes and no. There are definitely days when the swelling is worse and it would be difficult to get them on. Neither of them would want to change the rings at all, so she would have a chain to wear them on if she wanted, but she prefers to wear them on her fingers

2. Mira’s reaction shall remain a secret until it happens!

3. Jesinia does make an appearance in the next few chapters. . . Violet may or may not *wink wink nudge nudge* ask how her and Sawyer have been doing

4. Dain is going to do more than one more good thing. He and Violet will say words to each other within the next 5 chapters, and he won’t just disappear after that. He’s been manipulated into a lot of shitty decisions and he’s now trying to make up for it. That doesn’t absolve him of any responsibility but his actions are changing in addition to him saying he wants to be different (see: him standing up to his father about reading Violet’s memories)

5. This one is hard to answer. Xaden’s a fucking control freak. It’s hard to decide what they might do later when there’s still so much to write about what they’re doing now. And where there are now is: hard pass on the kids, and Xaden would have a very difficult time giving up control when he’s worked so hard (in a position he didn’t even want) to keep these people safe. Idk, I think I’d have to come back to this once we’ve reached the end!

6. Alic is still alive! And yes, Cam is VERY frustrated. He’s at Basgiath and trying to get in with Violet and Xaden for a reason. The man needs to talk to people who know how to get shit done