#(except more angry on the outside. definitely they have had this argument for a few millennia and each time it leads to a big blow up)

[camellcat]

the way I would wither up and die like a flower given too much of something good if I saw a good omens thiam fic written like Paper Moon by Skaboom. it's insane to me that it hasn't been done yet. like not even a one-shot or smth??

UGH. I would lit-er-al-ly die.

[t-r99]

Stay

Rin pushed everyone away in order to train to become the best, but that was a mistake.

the more i read it, the more i hate it, but ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Itoshi Rin x reader

wc: 2.4k

Even though Rin has hated being at home ever since his brother came back from Spain, it was impossible to spend every single moment outside the house. Every morning he went out, not caring if Sae would be home or not, and spent the day out until nightfall. Blue Lock, while not particularly enjoyable at first, had still been an escape and kept Rin far away from Sae.

The only thing he missed was . . .

No. No, no more of that. He has more important things to think about. Crushing Sae and becoming the world's best are no longer his only goals, beating Isagi is now on the list, too.

Rin sighs. It's getting late.

He's barely two minutes from home when he sees you, feeling like he's been punched in the gut. You're standing outside your house and carrying a plastic bag with the logo of the small convenience store five minutes away. It almost slips from your grasp when you spot Rin.

The last time you actually spoke to each other was right here, in front of your house. It was snowing that evening, too, quiet and calm just as it is now.

I shouldn't, You tell yourself. You almost want to start an argument with him but you just can't be bothered. Rin already made what he wanted clear months ago so you just look away from him and say, "Congrats on winning."

Rin doesn't have a right to feel down, he knows that. He doesn't get to be upset that your voice is colder than the snow and ice around him, this was his own doing.

"Excuse me."

"Wait." The word flies out of his mouth before he even realizes it. Rin gulps, feeling way to warm all of a sudden. "Wait." He repeats, more quiet this time.

"Why?"

You don't turn to him, and why would you? Rin thinks back to that damned evening when his brother came home and proceeded to crush Rin's dreams and break his spirit down.

He gulps again. "Can we talk?"

"No."

He doesn't have the right to demand, he knows that. Rin doesn't get to make any demands after ending your lifelong friendship out of the blue. He was hurting back then and he just wanted to die, but he knows it's not an excuse.

"At least stand by what you said." You say it so quietly that he almost doesn't hear.

Rin wishes he could take it back. "What I said was wrong."

"Saying that won't erase it." You push the gate to your house open and close it behind you, not saying bye or good night as you walk inside.

Rin thinks back to when he ended your friendship. Looking back now, he knows that he hurt you just as badly as Sae hurt him. He was being unfair when he took his pain and frustrations out on you.

Rin wishes he was strong and brave enough to go and knock on your door and ask to talk again.

He wants to apologize, not beg for forgiveness. You don't owe him your forgiveness, but he definitely owes you a proper apology.

Rin sighs and whispers your name to himself. "Good night."

*

It's awkward at home.

Rin hates having to live under the same roof as Sae again. He spent all those years waiting for his brother to come home only for the bastard to stomp on what was once their shared dream and spit down upon Rin like he was nothing.

He just can't bring himself to say anything to their parents, and neither can Sae. There are times when Rin thinks he's hallucinating, brief moments when Sae's typical stoic expression changes and Rin swears he can see sadness on his brother's face.

It only pisses him off.

Rin gets particularly angry one evening and heads out after dinner, telling his parents he's taking a late walk. It ends up being quite a short one when he comes to a halt only a few houses down.

On the other side of the road, your house is mostly dark except for a single lit up room. Yours.

Rin remembers your shared childhood and teenage years fondly. He helped you decorate your room when you were ten years old and your family moved into that house. Well, Sae was there, too, but screw his bitch ass.

Speaking of him, though, if Sae was next to Rin right now he would probably call his little brother tepid, and a coward.

Rin looks up at your window. Your blinds are down, but the light is on. Are you home alone, or is your family already in bed? Should he go and ring the doorbell? Text you? Call? What if you've blocked him? Rin wouldn't know, he never called or texted you after that evening, after all.

Ah, forget it. You don't want to see him anyways and he knows it.

Rin lowers his head and walks away instead. Maybe he can find the courage to try to talk to you in a few days, before he returns to Blue Lock.

It starts to snow as he walks.

He thinks back to that evening after losing the one on one against Sae. They walked home together, but not side by side like Rin had grown up hoping they would after Sae's return from Spain. He had walked a few steps behind his older brother, absolutely crushed. They were both silent while walking, the only sound coming from them walking in the snow and Sae pulling his suitcase behind him.

You spotted the brothers outside and welcomed Sae home, but it quickly became obvious that he wasn’t happy to be back. Rin looked even worse than his brother and ignored you. He met you in school the next day and you were being your usual self, but Rin had changed. He didn't look at you, only told you to leave him alone. Of course you asked what was wrong, but he only repeated himself and told you to shut your mouth.

Damn, why did he do that?

He will never forget the talk you had outside your house.

What an idiot Rin had been.

His walk takes him around the neighborhood and past your house again. Rin keeps his head down and forces himself to not look at your house where you are, whom he so desperately wishes he could talk to.

*

It's snowing.

You sit in silence and watch it snow in silence for so long that you completely lose track of time. It's always nice to be home alone and sit by the window like this, watching the snow fall.

It takes you by surprise to see Rin outside. His hands are shoved into his jacket pockets, head held down and walking at a slow pace.

Maybe you should . . .

No, no, no. How could you ever forget what he said? The kindest thing he called you back then was a stupid and naive brat and to stay the fuck away from him. Why would you ever agree to talk to him now?

Stupid Rin, You think.

You're even dumber than him.

As fast as you can, you run downstairs and bolt out of the house, almost slipping a few times.

"Rin! Rin!"

He freezes.

You feel stupid now. This is probably a bad idea. "You wanted to talk." You feel awkward. Ideally you would have a speech planned and call him out for his words and actions, but instead you find yourself unprepared to talk to him and your mind goes blank.

Rin turns. There's so much he wants to say.

"Rin . . ." Your vision blurs as tears build up but you won't look away, keeping your gaze locked with his. "Why did you say all that?"

To say that he was hurting would be a coward's answer. Rin wishes he could give you a reason that doesn't hurt you even more. If he tells you that he was hurt himself then you'll ask him why he would end your friendship rather than come to you for support and he doesn't have an answer to that.

Shit, he's so pathetic.

"It was wrong." Rin finally says.

"Yes it was." You say, voice so harsh it almost makes him flinch. "That's not what I was asking, though."

He really has nothing. Rin's mind goes blank as he tries to figure out what to say. He's so used to being in control of every situation he's in that this feels nerve wracking.

His silence makes you sigh and look down. "I see." You murmur.

Wait, you're not going back inside are you? Rin can't let you walk away now, you'll never talk to him again. He doesn't want to live and chase his dreams if you're not at his side.

Rin doesn't think, he just acts.

He quickly rushes up to you, arms wrapping around and holding you tight. He hasn't hugged you like this since you were children, not realizing just how badly he missed it.

"R- Rin . . . ?"

He just squeezes tighter and hides his face in your shoulder. It feels good to hold you like this.

"Come inside, it's cold."

*

"What I said was wrong." Rin says again. He doesn't know what else to say other than admitting his words were cruel and wrong that day.

"So what made you say it?"

"It was . . ." Rin's sitting on your mattress, cross legged with his hands on his knees. He's uncomfortable and tensed up, certain you will tell him to piss off and never talk to him again once he's done telling you what happened. "My brother came home . . ." His nails dig into his jeans. "I was so happy to see him but he," Rin gulps. “he was different."

It doesn't take him long to tell you. After all, it's such a short story. All Sae did was show up, beat Rin, and use as few words as possible to crush his dream.

"Rin,"

"I wasn't really thinking back then."

"Rin,"

He holds his own knees tightly. "I shouldn't have taken it out on you, I know that now." He squeezes his eyes shut as tears start to build up.

"Rin."

"I- I'm . . . I'm sorry that I-"

"Rin."

He finally stops, looking up at you with a gasp.

"Why didn't you talk to me?"

That's a good question. Why didn't Rin just talk to you instead? "I don't . . . know . . ." He mumbles, looking down in shame.

It doesn't fix anything. It doesn't take away the pain he caused you. It only tells you why he did. It's ridiculous. All this over a damn sport . . .

"I get it . . ." Rin says quietly. "I get it if you never walk to talk to me again. I just . . . I wanted to apologize."

"No need."

"Huh . . . ?" Rin looks up at you.

You're looking out the window. "I won't forgive you anyway."

He knew that already. Why would you ever forgive him?

Rin gulps as he watches you in silence. He's never seen you sad before. You've always had a smile on your face, but he changed that. Rin's dumb ass hurt you enough to erase your smile and he hates himself for it.

Rin forces himself to say, "I get it."

"Hey, Rin . . ."

He feels a sliver of hope. "Yeah?"

"Did beating Sae-san make you feel any better?"

Maybe it did a little bit in the moment, but Sae managed to ruin that, too. He didn't acknowledge Rin as a striker, or even praise him. Sae hadn't even said something as simple as a quick, "That was a good match."

Was it worth it? Was pushing everyone, including you, away worth it? Sure, Blue Lock won and Rin beat Sae in that final moment, but now he realizes how stupid it was to end your friendship all in the name of dedicating his life to training and bettering himself.

"It wasn't worth it." Rin knows it's stupid to say that. He knows that it'll only hurt you more but he doesn't want to lie to you. "I shouldn't have hurt you."

"Dumbass."

Yeah, you're not wrong there. Rin really is a dumbass. "You're being nice by only saying that."

"You want me to yell at you and call you everything under the sun?" You ask.

Well, he does deserve it.

"I miss you, you know." You say in a small voice.

Really?

"I miss my best friend."

Still just friends, huh? Rin kind of wants to punch himself for having those thoughts, but he's not going to make things even worse so he says the same, "I miss my friend, too." You're still looking out the window. From where you're sitting you can see Rin's house where the lights are still turned on. "Maybe we should talk more tomorrow, your parents will wonder where you are."

Who cares about that? Rin wants to stay here with you forever.

He doesn't want to impose, though. Rin simply nods and stands up after you, but he can't bring himself to walk. You notice that he's standing still and turn to him. "You good?"

He's quiet, looking down at the floor.

"Rin?"

He's so deep in thought that he doesn't even hear your voice. Rin is too busy trying to make a decision. He doesn't know if he should just leave and come back tomorrow to talk some more . . . or stay and risk ruining everything.

You step up to him and say his name again, putting a hand on his arm. It pulls Rin from his thoughts and he finally looks up from the floor.

Rin murmurs your name softly and holds your face in his hands. He doesn't know what to say, there probably isn't anything he can say right now. He still wants to apologize for hurting you, but you told him not to. I'm about to ruin everything, Rin thinks.

You’re quiet, eyes wide with surprise with how he's holding your face so gently.

"Can I stay?" Rin asks, thumbs caressing your cheeks softly.

Your face heats up at his touch and your heart is pounding from how close he is. He's close, You think, gulping. So close.

Rin's eyes, framed by thick lashes, stare intensely into yours and you suddenly feel the need to look away but he's holding you in place. You've never seen this look in them.

“Rin . . ."

"Can I?" He asks again.

Yes is on your mind, right on the tip of your tongue, but you can't get anything out when you part your lips.

Your pretty and soft looking lips that Rin's gaze travels down to. Rin wonders if they're as soft as they look, inching ever closer. "Can I?"

It won't erase the past and it won't magically fix everything, but you're willing to try to mend things, though it won't be as simple friends if he actually closes the gap and kisses you.

You really want him to stay. "R- Rin . . ."

Screw it, he'll take that as a yes.

[aspd-culture]

Heya, idk if this is a valid question or is really dumb, but like, does the age at which ASPD behavior starts to show have to be strictly 15?

I have been wondering whether I should get officially diagnosed, since the media and general societal representation of it doesn’t seem as reflecting of me (with exception of a few) but I do relate extremely closely to most of the diagnosing criteria. Although??? The physical aggression thing?? Like I have those impulses and plenty of them, but I just don’t follow through with most because of convenience. That sort of thing is one of the main things that makes me doubt whether I do actually have it. (Same with impulsive behaviors etc)

But my main point/ask is the age thing. As a very young child I was pretty sweet? Ig? Like I wasn’t an aggressive child, rather pretty passive. As far as I recall, my symptoms started when I was about 15-16, when I was starting to process that mine was a traumatic situation? and earlier than that I was just an edgy teen, I guess? I sure had some of the symptons way earlier, but the main ones/ the ones that I feel are more prominent in me didn’t show up until a bit later? I’m not sure. So my question is, does it mean it can’t be ASPD?

Also your page is lifesaving. Thanks man.

Note: due to the way copy and pasting criteria works on tumblr, this post will be written exclusively in plain text, as copying and pasting it all over again would take forever, but I want this post to be accessible still.

I haaaate the way the DSM phrases criteria. Absolutely no worries, it is confusing as heck and you wouldn't be the first person at all to ask about this.

So, the symptoms of Conduct Disorder or Oppositional Defiant Disorder (DSM criteria below) need to show by or before the age of 15. (I do not know if Intermittent Explosive Disorder satisfies this criteria, but it very well may.) That means they may start when you're a toddler, or they may start when you're 14.5. Anywhere in there, you have to qualify for one of those two disorders, but you also do not have to have been diagnosed with them.

Also, having had been an "edgy teen" definitely could have been those symptoms showing themselves. The reason ASPD can't be diagnosed before 18 is because teenage edginess could either be symptoms or be normal, and the only real way to tell is if it continues past teenage and into adulthood.

The diagnostic criteria of Oppostional Defiant Disorder is as follows, quoted from the DSM-V TR:

A. A pattern of angry/iritable mood, argumentative/defiant behavior, or vindictiveness lasting at least 6 months as evidenced by at least four symptoms from any of the following categories, and exhibited during interaction with at least one individual who is not a sibling.

Angry/lrritable Mood

1. Often loses temper

2. Is often touchy or easily annoyed

3. Is often angry and resentful.

Argumentative/Defiant Behavior

4. Often argues with authority figures or, for children and adolescents, with adults.

5. Often actively defies or refuses to comply with requests from authority figures or with rules

6. Often deliberately annoys others

7. Often blames others for his or her mistakes or misbehavior.

Vindictiveness

8. Has been spiteful or vindictive at least twice within the past 6 months

Note: The persistence and frequency of these behaviors should be used to distinguish a behavior that is within normal limits from a behavior that is symptomatic. For children younger than 5 years, the behavior should occur on most days for a period of at least 6 months unless otherwise noted (Criterion A8). For individuals 5 years or older, the behavior should occur at least once per week for at least 6 months, unless otherwise noted (Criterion A8). While these frequency criteria provide guidance on a minimal level of frequency to define symptoms, other factors should also be considered, such as whether the frequency and intensity of the behaviors are outside a range that is normative for the individual's developmental level, gender, and culture.

B. The disturbance in behavior is associated with distress in the individual or others in his or her immediate social context (e.g., family, peer group, work colleagues), or it impacts negatively on social, educational, occupational, or other important areas of functioning

C. The behaviors do not occur exclusively during the course of a psychotic substance use, depressive, or bipolar disorder. Also, the criteria are not met for disruptive mood dysregulation disorder.

[End quote]

Conduct disorder's criteria more clearly shows the lead-in to ASPD.

The diagnostic criteria for Conduct Disorder is as follows, quoted from the DSM-V TR:

A. A repetitive and persistent pattern of behavior in which the basic rights of others or major age-appropriate societal norms or rules are violated, as manifested by the presence of at least three of the following 15 criteria in the past 12 months from any of the categories below, with at least one criterion present in the past 6 months:

Aggression to People and Animals

1. Often bullies, threatens, or intimidates others.

2. Often initiates physical fights.

3. Has used a weapon that can cause serious physical harm to others (e.g., a bat, brick, broken bottle, knife, gun)

4. Has been physically cruel to people

5. Has been physically cruel to animals

6. Has stolen while confronting a victim (e.g., mugging, purse snatching, extortion, armed robbery)

7. Has forced someone into sexual activity

Destruction of Property

8. Has deliberately engaged in fire setting with the intention of causing serious damage.

9. Has deliberately destroyed others' property (other than by fire setting).

Deceitfulness or Theft

10. Has broken into someone else's house, building, or car.

11. Often lies to obtain goods or favors or to avoid obligations (i.e., "cons' others).

12. Has stolen items of nontrivial value without confronting a victim (e.g. shoplifting, but without breaking and entering; forgery)

Serious Violations of Rules

13. Often stays out at night despite parental prohibitions, beginning before age 13 years.

14. Has run away from home overnight at least twice while living in the parental or parental surrogate home, or once without returning for a lengthy period

15. Is often truant from school, beginning before age 13 years

B. The disturbance in behavior causes clinically significant impairment in social, academic, or occupational functioning

C. If the individual is age 18 years or older, criteria are not met for antisocial personality disorder.

[Skipping a bit of the quote which specifies codes for the various ages CD can present. It is worth noting that these are *not* criteria, they are specifications to be noted in the file of the person being diagnosed with conduct disorder to accurately describe their experience. As you'll see, these specifications are flags as to whether a child/teen with conduct disorder should be evaluated for ASPD upon reaching adulthood.]

Specify if:

With limited prosocial emotions: To qualify for this specifier, an individual must have displayed at least two of the following characteristics persistently over at least 12 months and in multiple relationships and settings. These characteristics reflect the individual's typical pattern of interpersonal and emotional functioning over this period and not just occasional occurrences in some situations. Thus, to assess the criteria for the specifier, multiple information sources are necessary. In addition to the individual's self-report, it is necessary to consider reports by others who have known the individual for extended periods of time (e.g., parents, teachers, co-workers, extended family members, peers).

Lack of remorse or guilt: Does not feel bad or guilty when he or she does something wrong (exclude remorse when expressed only when caught and/or facing punishment). The individual shows a general lack of concern about the negative consequences of his or her actions. For example, the individual is not remorseful after hurting someone or does not care about the consequences of breaking rules.

Callous-lack of empathy: Disregards and is unconcerned about the feelings of others. The individual is described as cold and uncaring. The individual appears more concerned about the effects of his or her actions on himself or herself, rather than their effects on others, even when they result in substantial harm to others.

Unconcerned about performance: Does not show concern about poor/problematic performance at school, at work, or in other important activities. The individual does not put forth the effort necessary to perform well, even when expectations are clear, and typically blames others for his or her poor performance.

Shallow or deficient affect: Does not express feelings or show emotions to others, except in ways that seem shallow, insincere, or superficial (e.g. actions contradict the emotion displayed; can turn emotions "on" or "off" quickly) or when emotional expressions are used for gain (e.g., emotions displayed to manipulate or intimidate others).

Specify current severity:

Mild: Few if any conduct problems in excess of those required to make the diagnosis are present, and conduct problems cause relatively minor harm to others (e.g., lying, truancy, staying out after dark without permission, other rule breaking)

Moderate: The number of conduct problems and the effect on others are intermediate between those specified in "mild" and those in "severe" (e.g. stealing without confronting a victim, vandalism)

Severe: Many conduct problems in excess of those required to make the diagnosis are present, or conduct problems cause considerable harm to others (e.g., forced sex, physical cruelty, use of a weapon, stealing while confronting a victim, breaking and entering).

[End of Quote]

As you can see, the criteria required before age 15 is not as intense as many professionals describe it. Remember that you are only required to have shown 3 out of the total 15 criteria in there. There is even a whole specifier for Conduct Disorder that is mild and only includes things like lying, basic rule-breaking, and/or staying out past curfew.

Acts of physical aggression are not actually required for ASPD at all, it's just that many prosocials see that being one of the possible symptoms and fixate on it, thus pushing everyone with ASPD into the box of physical aggresion. You absolutely can have ASPD and never act on any violent thoughts or urges.

I was also a very sweet and passive child, developing most of my externalized ASPD symptoms (rule breaking, disrespectful behavior/actions, challenging authority, etc) around age 13. However, the internal symptoms were there for me much younger - easily bored with poor handling of boredom, lack of empathetic reactions, difficulty apologizing/showing remorse due to not really feeling it, becoming very angry but not showing it, resulting for me in self destructive behaviors like cheek biting or controlled destructive behaviors like breaking something that wouldn't be missed (pencils and pens mostly for me).

Regardless of what symptoms were shown when, symptoms are still symptoms, and if you had enough for Conduct Disorder or Oppositional Defiant Disorder before your 16th birthday, you are well within possibility of having ASPD. Keep in mind that the lying, manipulation, etc that can qualify for Conduct Disorder doesn't have to be grandiose or destructive except where it is explicitly stated in the criteria that it does (such as fire setting only counting for the destruction of property criteria if you meant to damage something with said fire).

It's so easy to count yourself out of ASPD because you don't fit the stereotypes or public perception of ASPD, but I assure you that there are many, many ways something as complex as a personality disorder can show itself.

It is absolutely a great thing, however, that you are covering your bases and making sure to do the research to see if this is what you have. That is the basis of an informed self-dx, should you come to the conclusion that you have ASPD.

Now, as for actually getting diagnosed, your mileage may vary with professionals. Many have bias against pwASPD ingrained into their practice, and won't diagnose you with it even though you have it if you aren't/weren't violent, law-breaking, or if they just think you "seem far too kind to have ASPD" (a real quote a former professional said to me a few months before I was diagnosed by my long-time psychiatrist). This doesn't mean you don't have ASPD. If they can't give you other explanations that make sense, and if their reasons for denying you that diagnosis are based in stigma or anything other than actual criteria, then you are well within your rights to continue being self-dx.

A professional should be able to explain, using criteria, why you don't have a disorder you think you may have. If they're doing their job, they should be willing to explain to you what their reasons are and point you in the direction they think may be causing the symptoms. And no, "just acting like a teenager" isn't good enough if enough symptoms have persisted into adulthood for you to meet the criteria for ASPD.

I hope this helps, apologies for it being so long.

[tremsing82]

Tamlin’s Involvement w/ Rhys’ Mom and Sisters Death

I was just talking about the whole Tamlin being at Rhys’ mom and sister murder the other day. And of course it s limited narritave plotline, so we don’t have too much to go off of except through one persons knowledge and POV. So of course I had to think more about it from Tamlin’s side of what could have happened and this is my pro-Tamlin argument, because my lord this man is not evil no matter what the Anti-Tamlin people will say.

I just don’t think Tamlin would participate in murdering two defenseless females, one of who I believe was a child. I can though see him be forcibly dragged along as a punishment by his father for being friends with the night court heir and forced to watch as his father killed the mom and sister, similar to what happened to Lucien and Jesminda. Also the people of Autumn blame Lucien for Jesminda’s death and Lucien feels guilty her death and does also blame himself about it. Even though he was powerless to stop it. So Tamlin too can feel guilt over Rhys’ mom and sister death even if he too was powerless to stop it. Also we do know Rhys was suppose to be there with his mom and sister but he got held up and was not able to come meet them, so truthfully his dad and brothers were there to kill Rhys specifically and they were gonna do it while forcing Tamlin to watch his friend be killed and be powerless to stop it.

Tamlin’s father is said to be worse than Beron and we all know how abusive and controlling Beron is. We know Tamlin’s father had no interest in Tamlin being his heir and played no role in teaching his heir how to run the court as the future High Lord. Tamlin was raised in war camps with fellow soldiers and commanders. I do wonder if Tamlin might have mentioned Rhys’ plans to be with his mom and sister these next few days and he won’t be visiting night court (because we know Rhys and Tamlin became friends and at least we know Tamlin was visiting night court; with how volatile spring is with night I would think Rhys could not visit spring easily or safely without starting a war). So if he innocently told a “friend” about Rhys’ plans and that friend told the high lord I can see the high lord using this information to try and assassinate the heir of night court (and the future most powerful high lord in Prythian) but Rhys wasn’t there. Rhys got held up and couldn’t meet his mom and sister. I could see Tamlin maybe winnowing in to try and stop his father and brothers if he got word of what his father was up too or to warn Rhys but when he got there he found no Rhys and he found his dad and brothers about to murder the mom and sister. This could also explain why Tamlin doesn’t truly have any close person spring court friends. He is friends with Lucien someone outside of his court who he made a friendship with on his own terms. It’s also why Lucien leaving for night could have hurt him as badly as it did.

Also I wonder if Tamlin’s father could have been an unknown Daemati and forced the information out of Tamlin. Beside Rhys we know Daemati are ruthless, psychopathic, sadists so if Tamlin’s father was one of them that would definitely explain the description of his dad being worse than Beron. At least Beron can’t torture his sons within their own mind.

We definitely have not been given the full story yet. Rhys only knows who murdered his sister and mother and who was present as it happened. He has no additional details of what level of involvement Tamlin had in it. And Rhys has every right to be angry at Tamlin and feel betrayed by him. His mom and sister were murdered and their wings cut off and stolen, their heads were put in baskets and sent down river where the next town and Rhys found them. He was devastated and rightfully so. He has every reason to be resentful and angry. I just needed to see what the hell could have caused this on Tamlin’s end. He is not evil, he is not abusive, and he would not murder or help murder an innocent, defenseless woman and her daughter.

[stormblessed95]

What do you think the Jikook rain fight was over? It definitely felt like something like their relationship rather than as something as small as choreography as they were in the dance studio. Bigger than dumpling incident for that matter.

Hello anon, let's talk about the rainy day fight! I talked about this briefly in my vminkook series during my jikook post. But we can absolutely get into a bit more detail here and in its own post.

So this was brought up in Festa 2020 during their conversations. You can and should go watch this if you haven't yet. They were supposed to basically go down the line and tell the person next to them something that they felt sorry for, so Jin spoke to Jungkook and then Jungkook to Jimin. Which is where we got this:

"There is one thing I feel most sorry to Jimin... did I tell you this? That Rainy day."

We then get Jimin looking very confused for a moment, for Jungkook to clarify "The Rainy day in the practice studio, we had a fight." Jimin takes a moment and then bursts out laughing and promptly takes over the story from JK.

Now before we get into this particular fight, I think its interesting and want to point out that when Jungkook wanted to apologize for their fight, Jimin at first didn't know what he was talking about and he had to give more examples. Meaning, they probably have had quite a few arguments and fights over the years, very normal, very expected, couple or not, and that this in particular really stuck out to Jungkook and Jimin in a way because it didn't take too many details for Jimin to know exactly what fight it was. And we know it happened 4 to 5 years ago from 2020, so right when most jikookers assume their relationship started changing. And out of all the things from all the years, a fight they had clearly already worked through is STILL the thing that Jungkook is most sorry for to Jimin.

I also want to point out that RM asks them to tell the rest of the group what happened (he adds briefly, probably because he knows how jikook can get with their personal stories lol). This means that no one else knew about this fight. No other members were involved because no one really knew about it. (Except Tae, I have my doubts about him... he kinda seemed in the know a little bit, but that's probably best friend privilege) Keep in mind that we know Bang PD told us about how the general "rule" with the boys is that they solve their problems together, even if its just two of them who fight, all 7 will come together to sit and talk it out and solve the issue. We see a great example of this during Burn the Stage with the TaeJin choreo fight. We also know that all of the members are very aware of the dumpling fight, even though they kicked Vmin out to have said fight outside, they still have teased them about the details. They were involved. NO ONE besides jikook knew about this fight (we assume based off member reactions here), that makes this even more personal to the 2 of them. They kept this away from the group dynamics, they didn't want any outsider opinions on what was happening between them. This was between Jimin and Jungkook only.

So Jimin takes over for JK and shares the story (sort of), maybe because JK can sometimes be freer with his words then the other members at times and Jimin made sure he kept this story in general very very vague. He tells us that they fought (not what about) and that after they fought Jimin got so angry. In the official subs it says that Jimin said "do whatever you want" but there were many Korean ARMYs who said that a more accurate translation would be something like "I won't concern myself with you anymore, so do whatever you want." This is said so lighthearted now during Festa, but what an intense and serious statement. We dont know what the fight was about, but we KNOW it was impactful enough for Jimin to essentially say he was done with JK, completely. He won't concern himself with Jungkook anymore. And then he left. He stormed off and decided to walk home, probably to try and work off some of those emotions before getting back to the dorm. This isn't a silly fight over food or a disagreement over a dance move or how to sing something. This was something big enough for Jimin to be willing to cut Jungkook off from his life in all ways but professionally (is how i read this statement) and that is a big deal.

So Jimin tells us he was walking home when he got a call from Jungkook crying and apologizing. And again, the first thing he does when he hears that is say "I told you not to call me." He was SERIOUS. He was done. This fight was MAJOR. This is not the typical, drop everything to take care of the ones he loves Jimin we usually see. He was hurt and upset and done from whatever this fight was about. Jungkook kept crying though and kept apologizing and Jimin loves him so much. He did eventually cave and ask where he was. Jungkook didn't know. This means that JK was so upset about this fight that he tried to run after Jimin and catch him. He got lost crying and looking for Jimin. This is something he felt extreme regret for whatever happened that caused this fight, regret that possibly still sticks around a little bit since he brought it up 5 years after the fact. Jimin tells us about how he waited for Jungkook's taxi to pull up in the rain and then they ran and hugged like in slam dunk.

We dont know how long they continued to sit in the rain and hug or if they went somewhere to sit and talk more. Maybe back to the practice studio. I would assume that they did not go home without continuing to have a conversation about whatever had gone down and what was going to change for them going forward to fix it since none of the other members knew what happened. If they walked into their dorm soaking wet and both still crying, I imagine they would have been questioned and this fight wouldn't have been such a surprise to everyone else. And obviously they DID work things out from whatever happened because Jimin has obviously NOT cut Jungkook out of his personal life. Lol

The rest of the members teased them about it being like a drama and even singing popular songs from a drama. Giggling and cringing through the whole 2 minute story. But it honestly does. This doesn't sound like a friend or coworker fight. This sounds like a breakup/reunion type of scene from a movie. And I would also point out that the reconciliation time was different then the silly petty grudges of the dumpling fight. Vmin didn't talk until they got drunk and essentially hugged it out. Jikook had sobbing hugs in the rain immediately afterwards with apologizes and probably lots of long and late into the night conversations. But it wasn't left to stew. Jungkook refused to let it stew, literally chasing Jimin down in the rain so he couldn't walk away. It was a topic that was important to them both to address right away and have a hopeful reconciliation, which is obviously what happened because jikook in 2020 (and now) were as close as they could possibly be.

We dont know what the fight was about and we don't need to. But it was obviously very intensely personal and a very big deal. It had nothing to do with BTS as a group or as individuals, it had nothing to do with work. I personally am very convinced that this was a couple fight, a break up in a way. They tried it, things weren't working or going as planned or something in particular happened. They fought about it and Jimin ended it. Followed by a reunion in the rain, a reconciliation and a more mature conversation with compromises (I assume) about whatever the fight was over. Leading us to where they are now, domestic bliss and relationship security. Just my personal opinion, anyone is of course welcome to disagree or view it differently!

Thanks for the ask!

[bitsandbobsofwriting]

Twin!AU Part 2:

Gwaine is ecstatic to find that he’s technically dating Royalty (Arthur still isn’t best pleased), and Merlin begins to recover his true heritage.

Part 1   Part 3

Gwaine stares at the two of them open-mouthed from where he sits on the edge of the bed.

Re-telling the story had re-ignited Merlin and Arthur’s anger, but they do a good job of keeping it in as Gwaine tries to process that his partner and The Prince of Camelot are... twins. Gods this sounds like something out of one of Leon’s ridiculous fiction books: long lost royal twins and insane Kings and emotional reunions with long-dead, ghostly relatives. But to be fair, Gwaine has found that in all of his travels, Camelot has definitely been the weirdest place he’s ever been. Or perhaps it’s just the people.

He finally shuts his mouth, nodding slowly as he takes a deep breath and stands. He wipes his sweaty hands down his trousers briefly before stepping forward and pulling Merlin into a hug, making pointed eye-contact with Arthur over his shoulder. The only thing that Gwaine and Arthur had ever agreed on was that Merlin’s safety was of the upmost importance; this whole ordeal had just strengthened that agreement:

“That’s... you guys have had one hell of a day, huh? You said Gaius, and your mo- Hunith, and that bloody Dragon knew?”

Merlin tenses in his arms before pulling away, and Arthur’s expression turns stormy once more as he nods. Gwaine frowns, keeping one hand on Merlin’s shoulder as the servant (Prince?) responds bitterly:

“Hmm. We haven’t spoken to Kilgharrah or Hunith yet, but they’ll be getting a bloody mouthful from me, when we get time.”

Gwaine nods sympathetically, muttering his reply more to himself than the others:

“...Bastards.”

Arthur nods, but takes a deep breath as he puts his own hand on Merlin’s other shoulder:

“Agreed, but we’ve been gone too long; Leon’s been dealing with the council for at least half an hour and we need to go explain things sooner rather than later. News of my- The King’s arrest will spread like wildfire once it gets out.”

Merlin sighs, sagging slightly where he stands, and Gwaine steps even closer to him, moving his arm to be over his shoulder in a side-hug:

“Hey, I’m sure Arthur and Leon can deal with this if you’d rather hide out in here for a little peace. We could always set Morgana loose on the council, she’s bound to whip them into shape.”

(Yes, this fic is ignoring the timeline both in terms of the knights AND Morgana. She knows about Merlin’s magic, and Merlin, Arthur, and Gwaine (and Lance) know about hers.)

Merlin lets out a quiet huff of laughter, leaning into Gwaine’s side slightly as he looks up:

“No, I can’t. Arthur’s right, we need to sort this out sooner rather than later. I’d be perfectly content to not tell anyone about who I really am-”

Gwaine raises an eyebrow and Arthur narrows his eyes, ready to protest, but is interrupted by Merlin’s loud continuation before he can say anything:

“-but I know neither of you will let me get away with that so... here we are.”

Arthur nods decisively and Gwaine hides a grin, clearly thinking about how he’s technically courting a Prince. Arthur rolls his eyes at Gwaine’s expression, a small part of him cursing himself for letting the drunkard stay in Camelot, but the rest of him is grateful, knowing that Merlin needed more than Arthur on his side, especially now he had lost, or partially lost, Gaius, Kilgharrah, and Hunith.

The blonde Prince lets out a deep sigh, looking towards the door despondently as he decides that they really can’t leave Leon to fend for himself any longer. The three of them make their way from the room wordlessly, but Arthur halts the group again at the end of the corridor, turning to Gwaine with a thoughtful frown:

“Go find Elyan, Percival, Lancelot, Morgana, and Gwen. Gaius is a member of the council so he should already be there but double check he isn’t in his chambers, and Leon may have fetched Morgana himself, but I don’t know.”

Gwaine turns to look at Merlin and speaks quietly:

“What should I tell them?”

Merlin’s frown deepens and he glances at Arthur, but he just shrugs slightly, giving the choice to Merlin:

“They’ll all find out in the meeting anyway, so it might be best to pre-warn them so they aren’t blind-sided. Tell them the truth, I was born with magic, and am Arthur’s long lost twin brother, confirmed by Igraine’s ghost and then Gaius.”

He looks bewildered as he says it, almost as though he doesn’t fully believe it quite yet; Arthur nods in agreement and continues his instructions to Gwaine:

“Have everyone meet us there as soon as possible, I want to get this sorted now and I’m going to need as many people on my side as I can get.”

Gwaine nods seriously, pressing a brief kiss against Merlin’s forehead before rushing off in the other direction, hurriedly knocking on the knights’ doors down the corridor as Merlin and Arthur turn the corner.

They make quick work of the journey back through the castle, stopping just outside the doors to the Throne Room with sweaty palms and shivering lungs. The two of them listen to the annoyed sounding murmurs coming from inside for a few moments and the guards try not to give them odd looks as Arthur glances to Merlin—stood at his side instead of behind him—with a fond, though nervous smile. He puts his hand on the other man’s shoulder:

“We’re about to cause one hell of an argument, you ready?”

Merlin takes a deep, calming breath, smiling briefly as he hears Leon pleading with the council to be patient for just a little longer, looking to Arthur with anxious eyes and pale cheeks:

“Yeah. Come on, I think Leon might hurl himself from the window if we make him wait much longer.”

Arthur chuckles quietly, and the guards quickly divert their gazes when he looks back to the doors, taking one last fortifying lungful before walking forward and pushing them open with a bang, Merlin at his side.

The room goes suddenly quiet and Leon visibly relaxes when they walk in, bowing briefly before stepping aside and allowing Arthur to take his place in front of the thrones. There is no table in the Throne Room, so the council stand gathered in the middle, staring up at Arthur incredulously as he runs a hand down the arm of The King’s throne absent-mindedly. He was grateful to see Gaius present, despite not being in any sort of mood to talk to the man; he holds a smirk in when he sees several of the councilmen raise eyebrows at Merlin, still stood at his side when he technically shouldn’t even be in the room. There was even further incredulity as Sir Leon moves to stand guard behind him, as opposed to The Prince.

One of the Lords nearer the front of the small crowd finally breaks the tense silence:

“My Lord, what is the meaning of this? We were told it was an emergency, that we were meeting in the Throne Room as opposed to the council room, and were then made to wait for almost a candle-mark. The King has yet to arrive, what is going on?

Arthur turns to look at them with a raised eyebrow, back straight and face impassive:

“Patience, Lord Angar, The King will not be joining us, though we are waiting for a few more-”

The doors open before he finishes and every head turns to see the remaining knights, Gwen, and Lady Morgana enter, led by a serious looking Gwaine. All of them give Merlin a small smile and a bewildered nod, bar Morgana, who looks nothing short of furious as she moves to stand protectively at his side, glaring at any councilman who dares to look their way. The knights spread out, standing to attention with hands on their swords around the edge of the room, whilst Gwen moves to stand against the wall behind Morgana, Merlin, and Leon. Only Gwaine, Leon, and Lancelot are in full armour, but all the knights are armed and angry looking.

The councilmen, looking more confused and annoyed, look back to a still impassive Arthur. He fixes a short glare on each and every one of them before turning to face them properly and speaking confidently, his tone inviting no argument:

“The King has been arrested and confined to his chambers for the murder of the late Queen, and gross crimes against the Kingdom.-”

The room immediately explodes into angry and incredulous yelling, and Merlin flinches away from the sudden noise. Morgana squeezes his wrist comfortingly, knowing that it was only going to get worse when the rest of the truth is revealed, and Leon steps out from behind him, moving to be at his side with his sword halfway out of it’s sheath.

The other knights and Gwen all tense in place and Gwaine has to resist the urge to run to Merlin, knowing that the council’s disdain for both him personally and his courtship with Merlin would just make things worse. Arthur rolls his eyes at the cacophony of noise and slams the metal part of his gauntlet against the arm of the throne with a bang:

“ENOUGH! You’ll find, gentlemen, that remaining calm and quiet will make this conversation much easier.-”

He glowers at everyone until the hall is drowning in another tense silence before taking a deep breath, forcing himself to keep his hands from fidgeting as he continues:

“-It has come to my attention, through the Witch Morgause-”

A few murmurs of dissent go around the room, but they quickly cease when even the ever-calm Sir Leon begins to glare at people:

“-and further confirmation by The Court Physician, that King Uther used sorcery, against The late Queen’s wishes, in order to conceive a child. He was warned of the dangers, and went ahead with his plan anyway, which resulted in not only the birth of twins, one of whom was magical, but the death of the Queen.-”

At the mention of Gaius, the elderly Physician gets a few confused glances, and even more glares; no one likes being kept out of the loop, especially when everyone there is a Lord except Gaius. At the mention of twins, everyone’s attention is abruptly back on Arthur, and the knights have to resist the urge to look at Merlin, in fear of giving anything away too early.

Before he can continue, Arthur is interrupted by Lord Angar again:

“My Lord, I very much doubt the validity of anything you have just said, but either way, is this really the sort of meeting to be had with servants, a Lady, and your peasant knights present? I know you’re oddly fond of them but-”

Arthur, Leon, and Morgana have to resist the urge to punch the Lord in the face at his words. Gwen, Percival, Lancelot, and Elyan manage to keep their faces neutral, though Gwaine glowers openly. The knight does however hold in his smirk when he notices the fury on Arthur’s face. The Prince takes a threatening step forward but doesn’t lower himself from the dais as he speaks, his tone cold:

“Lady Morgana, Guinevere, and Merlin have proven to be better advisors to me than you ever have Lord Angar; Sirs Percival, Elyan, Lancelot, and Gwaine are amongst the best knights this Kingdom has ever seen, and you will show every one of them the respect they deserve, or you will excuse yourself from this room, and this council. Am I understood?”

The red of Angar’s face gets more severe as he splutters:

“My Lord you can not be-”

“Am I understood?!-”

Arthur’s voice cuts through everyone in the room, despite it’s low volume, and where Leon hides his proud smirk, Morgana doesn’t hold back at all, especially when Angar takes a deep breath and nods his purple head in embarrassment. The rest of the council seems to finally have grasped the seriousness and severity of the situation and play close attention to Arthur as he continues, no one daring to interrupt again:

“-This information changes everything we know about sorcery; my father started a genocide against an innocent group of people because he was too much of a coward to admit his mistakes and refused to take the rightful blame for killing his wife. I will not stand for this, and things will change very soon. If you are not outraged at the unjustness of his actions, at the death and suffering he has caused our people, the people we are meant to serve and protect, then you are more than welcome to leave. Meetings to organise and begin the process of legalising magic will start early tomorrow, and I will be accepting no excuses, this is non-negotiable. As for the matter of my twin brother...-”

Arthur glances back to Merlin, and at his slight nod, Arthur shoots him a small smile and holds his hand out to him. Merlin walks slowly forward to the sound of the council gasping and muttering to themselves, Leon stays barely a hair’s breadth behind him with his sword fully drawn:

“-may I present Prince Myrddin Pendragon.-”

Lord Angar, among others, looks seconds away from bursting once more, so Arthur hurries to continue, though still manages to keep his voice forceful and confident:

“-This information was unconfirmed for both of us until around a candle-mark ago; I have never believed in fate before now, though I think we can all be grateful that The Prince managed to return to Camelot all on his own.-”

He settles his hand on Merlin’s shoulder, but doesn’t pull him forward too much, understanding that his serv- his brother, probably wants to be as far away from the centre of attention as he can get.

“-I want him presented to The Kingdom and crowned before the month is out, this matter is also non-negotiable. Any questions?”

Lord Angar looks desperate to start yelling, but he also seems to have finally accepted that his influence over this room, and now the council in general, was tenuous at best. One of the newer councilmen, a young Lord who Arthur has a slowly growing respect for, steps forward slightly, bowing his head before meeting Arthur’s gaze and quietly asking:

“And The King, My Lord? Should we plan for your coronation as well?”

It was clear that the question was unexpected and Arthur frowns at the realisation that he had... arrested The King. Uther may have deserved it, but Arthur couldn’t bring himself to order his execution, and knowing Merlin he’d argue against it endlessly anyway.

Morgana senses Arthur’s hesitation after a second or two, thankfully before the council becomes restless and annoyed:

“You could always take over as Regent whilst we sort all of this out; that way we can revisit the issue of actually crowning you King later. Though we can’t confine Uther to his chambers forever, we’ll have to deal with him at some point.”

Arthur hums and nods, giving her a thankful smile before looking back to the young Lord:

“Lady Morgana’s suggestion is sound. I’ll take over as Regent,-”

He nods at Geoffrey of Monmouth, who takes a note down in the giant leather tome he perpetually has under his arm. If Arthur thinks about it for too long, he might come to the conclusion that the older man looks proud:

“-and we can revisit the issue when the dust has settled.-”

He rubs his eyes tiredly, as though the last day or so of drama had finally landed with it’s full weight upon his shoulders:

“-I think it goes without saying that, for now, none of this is to leave the room. I trust only Sir Leon with assigning who is to guard The King,-”

He glances to Leon, who nods seriously at his words:

“-keep it discreet Leon. I want to keep as much of this under wraps for as long as possible to avoid public panic; this is going to be a lot of hard work gentlemen, but I mean to see it through with or without your support, the choice is yours. The first meeting will take place in the normal council room tomorrow, two candle-marks after dawn. You’re all dismissed.”

The councilmen—including Gaius, after he sends a forlorn look Merlin’s way—slowly trickle out of the room, some looking angry, most looking resigned, but a few looking rather content, happy even (Arthur and Morgana take mental notes of who is who). The door shuts quietly behind the last man, leaving only Arthur, Merlin, Morgana, Gwen, and the knights left, all of whom understanding that the dismissal did not include them. Arthur lets out a deep sigh when the room quietens, looking back up to Merlin with a tired smile and even more tired eyes:

“Ready brother?”

He quirks an amused, but hugely pleased eyebrow as he says it and Merlin grins, rolling his eyes fondly:

“Not even close, but that’s never stopped me before.”

Arthur chuckles as the others all move closer, an odd mix of exasperated, because Merlin turning out to be Arthur’s long lost magical twin is exactly the sort of insanely dramatic thing that’s likely to happen in Camelot, and hesitant, because... how do they even deal with that? Other than with a great deal of confusion?

Gwen is the first to reach him, pulling Merlin into a tight hug that is very well received:

“I’m sorry Merlin, I can’t imagine how difficult this must be, and I’m so terribly sorry for all the horrible things I’ve said about magic.-”

She pulls back but doesn’t let go of his shoulders, staring up at him with tears in her eyes and a desperate look on her face:

“-You know that we all love, and trust you, don’t you??”

Merlin rolls his eyes fondly and pulls her back into a hug with a wide smile on his face:

“Of course I know that, I love you too Gwen. And don’t worry about it, you believed what you were taught, it’s not your fault.”

She looks like she wants to argue again when she pulls back, but Merlin just pats her cheek softly and gives her a warning glare. She huffs but dutifully steps back, allowing Gwaine to take her place as the rest of the knights pat his shoulders and run soft hands through his hair as way of apology and comfort. 

Merlin smiles at them, but sobers quickly when a particularly horrible thought re-occurs to him. Gwaine squeezes his shoulder in question and Arthur furrows his brows:

“Merls?”

Merlin just sighs and leans into Gwaine’s side slightly:

“I need to talk to my... Hunith. And Kilgharrah, but I really don’t have the energy for him right now.”

Arthur nods in understanding, thinking for a moment before looking up to the huddle of knights (most of whom look marginally confused at the mention of whoever the hell Kilgharrah is):

“Percival, Lancelot, you know where Ealdor is?-”

The two of them nod, remembering the route from visiting with Merlin a few months ago:

“-Leave at dawn, take an extra horse and bring Hunith back with you. With all that’s going on, me and Merlin can’t afford to be gone for even a day and it’s a four days’ journey there and back.”

They nod, but Lancelot quickly responds with a quiet:

“We can leave now if you like, it’s not like the journey will take much prep. What should we tell her?”

He looks to Merlin, who frowns slightly as he replies, his words slow:

“Don’t tell her anything, Arthur and I need to have that conversation with her. She’ll panic when you turn up without me so feel free to tell her that we’re all alive and uninjured and not in any danger but... just don’t tell her the real reason.”

Their smiles are understanding, and just a little pitying, but they turn and march off the moment Arthur nods at them in approval, determined to do everything they can to make things go smoothly and easily.

It’s Elyan that breaks the now slightly uncomfortable silence a few moments later:

“So... do we still call you Merlin? Or is it Prince Myrddin, My Lord?”

Merlin grimaces the moment Elyan mentions what would soon be his official title, and the others grin at his reaction, chuckling as he runs a hand through his hair:

“No one’s called me Myrddin since I was about five, and I think it would be a little odd if that changed now, so Merlin is just fine.”

The others nod in agreement, though Arthur sighs as he responds, faux annoyance in his tone:

“Paperwork’s going to be bloody confusing.”

~

It takes Merlin all of three hours to figure out that Arthur had subtly assigned him a constant guard. The guard consists of Sirs Leon and Gwaine, so he isn’t... complaining, per se, but it's annoying, to escape company for a quick piss to find his partner and friend casually hovering right outside the door.

But to be fair, Merlin only notices when his brain registers that Gwaine isn’t there, and how odd that is. Whilst Merlin is interrogating Leon, Arthur is cornering Gwaine in a seldom used corridor, though the rambunctious knight beats Arthur to the punch:

“I think we’ve been here before, Princess.”

Arthur raises an amused eyebrow at Gwaine’s teasing grin, before sagging slightly in place and sighing. Gwaine sobers immediately, putting a hand on the blonde’s shoulder and trying to meet his gaze:

“Arthur?”

Arthur sighs again, looking up to him with tired eyes:

“This goes without saying, but Merlin.... he is everything to me. As far as I’m concerned he and Morgana are my only family, though I suppose I believed that before all of... this; but that’s besides the point. I know you won’t ever mean to hurt him, and I do trust you, as... difficult as that is to admit, but I need to you understand, Gwaine,-”

Gwaine nods in understanding and agreement:

“I do understand, Arthur. He’s everything to me as well.”

Arthur shakes his head and steps back, bringing himself to his full height:

“No, you don’t. He is my brother, and he was taken from me. He has suffered, more than I think either of us will ever know, and that stops, this Kingdom is now being built for him. But I would burn it all down if it would make him happy. Everything is for him, for Morgana, for my family. Do you understand?”

Gwaine nods, only once, before holding his hand out. Neither his hand nor his voice shakes as he responds:

“I’ll pour the oil, you light the match.”

Arthur pauses for a moment, as if trying to gauge his own trust in the other man, before clasping Gwaine’s hand strongly. 

The seriousness of the moment ends when Gwaine lifts his other hand to tug sharply at Arthur’s hair before ducking under his arm and skipping down the corridor towards where they’d left Merlin and Leon. Arthur just huffs and follows him, definitely not sulking.

Merlin turns to them both with a scowl when they enter, immediately taking note of the residual gravity in the tightness of Gwaine’s shoulders:

“And what have you two been doing all of sudden?”

Leon bites his lip to stop himself from snorting in amusement, but fails miserably the moment Gwaine shrugs and opens his mouth:

“I don’t know, some sort of mutual arson pact I think.”

Arthur rolls his eyes first at Gwaine subtly, then at Merlin, far more obviously:

“Honestly Merlin, we’ve spent practically every second with you all day, you can’t go a few minutes without us?”

Merlin huffs noisily and turns around to grab Leon’s wrist, dragging him from the room and not looking over his shoulder as he snarks:

“Leon’s always been my favourite knight anyway.”

Gwaine and Arthur just look outraged, both speaking at the same time:

“Hang on, what about me?!”

They fix each other with narrow-eyed glares before shoving each other childishly, fighting over who could shoulder their way through the door first.

~

The next conversation, a few days later, is... a lot harder.

With Kilgharrah’s odd ability to seemingly know about everything that happens in Camelot, Merlin couldn’t get away with putting off speaking to him for long, especially with how The Warlock could feel the way he was angrily clomping about in his cave.

The short journey down through the dungeons, made by Arthur, Merlin, and Gwaine, was made mostly in silence. The oppressive feeling of Kilgharrah’s mishmash of emotions bouncing around in Merlin’s head made focusing on any other strain of thought impossible, and Gwaine and Arthur were too busy stewing in their own anger and worry to want to disturb him.

They pause momentarily outside the large iron gates leading to Kilgharrah’s lair, none of them looking to each other as they take deep breaths in an attempt to gather some bravery. Arthur and Gwaine have never said anything, but Kilgharrah terrifies the shit out of both of them; Merlin normally takes these trips alone—Arthur and Gwaine’s fear wasn’t difficult to pick up on and he never wanted to make them uncomfortable—allowing the other two their blissfully ignorant beauty sleep as he sneaks away to argue with a Dragon. But that’s obviously not in the cards today; no way either of them would let him face this alone.

Kilgharrah is waiting for them when they push open the gate and stalk out onto the ledge, and he raises himself to his full height, sparing barely a glance in Arthur’s direction and sparing Gwaine even less as he stares at Merlin with aloof, golden eyes:

“You have discovered who you are, Young Warlock, at long-”

Merlin interrupts him with a scowl and a held up hand:

“You had no right,-”

His voice is echoingly deadly, and the two knights find themselves being reminded of Merlin’s seemingly endless power. Merlin being angry at Gaius was... was like a child being heartbroken at a parent’s betrayal, which it was in some ways. But Merlin being angry at Kilgharrah... that was much more; like a God being angry at a creature of His own design. Merlin stands before The Great Beast, centuries old, full of unimaginable knowledge, and he stands tall, and proud, and angry.

“-no right, to keep this from me. You claim that no one can know their destiny, and then proceed to prattle on about mine in riddles. In my search for answers, you gave me more questions. In my search for comfort, you gave me fear. In my begging for help, you gave me nothing but pain. I’m done, you’re just as bad as Uther.”

Kilgharrah bristles, flaring his arched nostrils as his furious reaction ripples across his hardened scales:

“How dare you compare me to-”

Merlin interrupts him with a yell, his voice growling in it’s reverberation, a hidden power more ancient than the mountains themselves echoing in his words:

“You separated my brother from me and you had no right! You whine about how Uther took your kin from you, but you took my kin from me! You suffered so you made it your greatest goal to make everyone else suffer just as much. You are cruel, and cowardly, and I am done. You will not manipulate me anymore, you will not lie to me, or mislead me. You tried to get me to kill the boy, but I didn’t, and I forgave you. You tried to get me to kill Morgana, but I didn’t, and I forgave you. You keep trying to get me to free you, but I won’t. You will rot in here until you can tell me the truth, a truth I deem worthy, on why you kept my heritage from me.”

He doesn’t wait for a response, turning on his heel and marching out of the gate without another word, Gwaine following closely behind. Arthur stays, just for a few moments, though with Merlin’s sudden display of power over the beast before him he finds himself significantly less frightened:

“He’s right, you know. Every one of my brother’s successes has come to pass because he ignored you. You have haunted him every step of the way, causing nothing but grief; you should be grateful, Merlin has offered you a chance of redemption that I would not have.”

Arthur doesn’t wait for a response either, jogging up the steps to catch up with the other two just exiting the dungeons.

Merlin doesn’t ask what was said, though Gwaine does raise an eyebrow in The Prince Regent’s direction; Arthur gives him a short nod, acknowledging Gwaine’s need to know, need to keep a tight hold on everything so he could keep Merlin safe and happy. Or as happy as he can keep him in this situation. Gwaine relaxes when he understands Arthur’s promise to tell him later, trusting the blonde to have Merlin’s best interests at heart.

The slight relaxation doesn’t last long however; Merlin heads up through the castle towards the large doors leading into the courtyard. The other two follow him, knowing that the younger man likely needs some fresh air to recover from the pressing darkness and power and heaviness of Kilgharrah’s presence, but they quickly tense when he suddenly halts on the steps just outside the doors.

When they peer over his shoulder, they are abruptly reminded of the amount of time that had passed since Percival and Lancelot had left. And apparently returned.

Hunith dismounts her horse quickly, her mouth stretching into a relieved smile as she runs towards him. Merlin doesn’t move, just stares at her with blank eyes, and Gwaine’s eyes shift nervously between the two of them. Hunith’s relief is quickly dropped when she notices Merlin’s non-reaction, and she slows just before she ascends the steps, looking up at Merlin with her brow creased in worry:

“Son?”

Merlin’s expression hardens; his hands clench and his eyes and tone turn icy as he responds:

“I’m not your son.”

~

END of part 2!!!

Sorry to be a teeeaaasssee :))))) (Not really)

I’ve recently got a BUNCH more hours at work (which is like... good for me personally but not so great for my social life or hobbies lol) so things might take a little longer to come out from now, but I promise this blog is still ultra active and going!! I’ll just only have time to write in the evenings nowadays.

I’m not sure when part 3 will be, but it’s in the works and won’t be too long!! Two weeks at absolute MOST I imagine :D

[leahseclipse]

Battle of knowledge

Pairing: Spencer Reid x male!reader

Summary: When a battle of knowledge abruptly occurs as the two known doctors meet at a case, everyone is partially amused by their hate towards the other, as they both differ their problems in quite a unusual way afterwards.

Warnings: Mentions of case, usual cm stuff…, slight sex allusions (rated T just in case the mentions happen to be something that’d be rated like that)

Word count:  1.7 k

A/N: Hey everyone!! I hope you guys are well!! I took this request from @imagining-in-the-margins as she didn’t want it, so here I am :) that fic is kind of dedicated to @ontheoddoccasioniwritestuff​ , I thought a lot about you as I wrote this fic :)! Hope everyone enjoys. (yeah the dialogue is ehhh in the first half to me, sorry for that)

        When Spencer had gone all the way from Virginia to Arizona for a case that had yet to upset the rest of his team, he didn't actually expect another person to upset him as much as the authors of the crime themselves.

The other person was known as the genius of the team, another "version" of him, except that he was in Arizona, with a slightly different rank.

He didn't think badly of him at first, he appreciated the fact of having another person similar to him, which meant that he didn't have to explain the terms he'd use to someone else, he could talk without complications.

He’d usually have to pause in his lecture to explain some stuff, but he didn’t feel like he’d need to do it with him.

"Arizona's genius, y/n y/l/n. It's nice to meet you all. I heard there's another genius here. As much as I'd like to have a nice chat, killers are on the loose, so, eventually, at the end of the case."

The way he had talked was completely fascinating to him, even if he wanted to, he couldn't draw his eyes off him as he talked. 

The first words had completely convinced them, and he really felt like he could have a correct interaction with him.

It wasn't everyday that he'd had the occasion to meet another mind similar to his. 

This happened to be quite relieving considering the complicity of the case, and it would be much faster for everything to be answered as they'll be two.

"No, he's not that type of guy! Look at what he did, especially at the third victim!" He yelled.

"We have all reasons to think he could be like that, I didn't say it definitely is, but it could be." Spencer argued, pissed off by his words.

"The M.O you just described doesn't really fit, something is missing, and none of what you said makes it right."

"It's the closest thing we have, it's that or we completely start from scratch, as if it's "wrong" to you."

"I don't think it's only to me, and it's better to try to start again than continue with what we have and possibly launch into a wall because that wasn't right. Okay, that's going to take time, but might as well get it right."

"When I expected for the case to go smoothly, I didn't come all the way for this, since when are you so annoying?"

"Oh, now I'm annoying? I'm just doing my job, and you're the one acting offended. So," He paused, as he gathered papers before walking away. "If you excuse me, I have to catch the ones doing this, instead of wasting time. Come back to me when you're in a better mood to work correctly." Y/N said, as another coworker of his approached Spencer not long after he had left. 

"Um...I doubt that'll make the situation better, but he acts like that, sometimes. It may seem that he's not going to work, but don't worry, it's mainly so he can...get himself back in the right head space." He explained. "Don't try...get pissed off at each other too often, none of our unit chiefs will be happy with that."

"He could have been less...like that."

"It's just y/l/n being himself, 'can't do much about it. Anyway, let's get back to work, and try to get better you two, at least till we wrap the case." 

"Trouble's around." Derek chirped to JJ.

"This case is going to be...fun. Let's hope we at least get to have a distraction."

"Oh, don't worry JJ, we'll have one. They're not done fighting. Definitely not."

"Do you think they're gonna make up and become friends, or yell at each other until the end?" Emily asked.

"A mix of the two. They'll kinda hate each other, but not enough to resist having a conversation between geniuses." Garcia answered.

"True. It's not every day that the both of them get to talk with someone that understands their stuff." Derek pointed out.

"Let's hope that we'll get to see some animation in between work."

*

*

        "Are you here to yell again or try to have a calm conversation?" Y/N asked, as soon as Spencer entered.

"I don't get why you're directly attacking before I get to say anything." Spencer protested.

"Just in case."

"Okay, do you have something against me or what? Because I can't work if you keep being angry all of the time."

"I'm not angry." He answered.

"Then I'm a clown if I can't even read your face. It's written on your forehead that you are, you're literally an open book." Spencer closed the door, having a slight feeling that the conversation would possibly get louder.

"I thought you weren't supposed to profile the people you work with, no? I'm not your coworker, but we're working on this case together, so don't profile me unless I ask, which will never happen." 

"I don't get you." 

"What is there even to understand? You're the one I don't get."

"It's you that I can't figure out. I just can't stand you right now."

"Unfortunately, I'm afraid you'll have to calm your nerves till we finish that case. Because I'm not wasting twenty minutes explaining what is there to "understand" about me." He spit back, glancing at Spencer.

"I can't keep talking with you if you act like that."

"I'm not a cute puppy in case you haven't figured that out. I'm not going to be nice just for you, especially when you point out that I'm not how you like to be talked." 

"I didn't specify anything."

"Didn't you, doctor?" He focused on the last word, raising his eyebrows.

"Damn it." Spencer walked up to him in a snap, glancing at him for a split second before suddenly taking in his face in his hands as he roughly kissed him.

Not even one of them expected that it'd just take a single argument to let the pressure out.

They were just kissing each other, like that. Spencer was the one who started it, not even wondering if he'd return it or walk away, but turns out that y/n had been the one to take the lead after that, as he gripped his hair, slamming him against the wall.

Nothing really mattered in that moment, they didn't even think about the others possibly walking in, all they both needed to do was to let out of all the frustration contained since this morning.

It wasn't quite only anger, but also because they had both wanted each other, in their own way.

As much as Y/N was afraid to admit it, he did imagine it, slamming him against the wall, even if he wouldn't be strong or even courageous enough to do that.

Spencer did imagine gripping his jaw, especially after he walked out in fury, he was so upset about him that all he wanted was to kiss him to let him know what he felt.

He didn't want to admit it, but he hated it whenever someone raised his voice at him, he needed to do that to calm himself, in some way.

If they weren't in some police station, their shirts would have already been on the floor, the layers of clothes between them were more than infuriating as they tugged at the other's shirt.

And even when they stopped for a moment to breathe again, it didn't take much for their lips to link again after a short glance.

Spencer quickly flipped y/n the other way so he'd be the one against the wall, and to his surprise, his face quickly gained another tint.

He caged him in with one arm against the wall, gripping his chin with the other, as y/n tugged at his hair again, not knowing where else to put them.

Things went fast so quickly, they didn't even think about what they'd do, they just went with the flow.

What they forgot to think and pay attention about, was that they weren't alone in the place.

Literally all of the people working at the station were there, and could possibly start to look for them.

They really didn't care about it, none of them broke the kiss to point it out, it was just four walls, them, and their mixed feelings.

"I still can't stand you." Spencer said in between when they briefly broke the kiss.

"Me neither." He blurted out.

As one of them probably guessed at some point, their inattention cost them when they didn't even hear the lock of the door over their breaths.

"Hey, we found…" JJ walked in, stopping in the middle of the sentence. 

The door kept itself open, as the noise of the outside drew in, causing them to break away as both of their eyes were wide open.

Spencer's hair was a mess, strands going everywhere, which would need to be at least fixed with his hand for him to be presentable. 

Only the back of y/n's hair was messed up as he was against the wall most of the time.

Both of their shirts had a few buttons out, although, y/n's was the closest to being on the floor if someone hadn't come.

By the time they had begun slowly walking away from the other, she had definitely just seen them making out.

"...something." She ended the sentence, not quite knowing what to say after witnessing the event.

"Oh, uh...we'll uh...meet you in just a sec." Spencer said.

"Right. Okay." JJ responded, closing the door in a hurry.

"I hate to say this to you, but I think we're screwed." Y/N pointed out once she was gone.

"They'll definitely be able to tell from the look on her face and ours when we'll get out."

"Yeah, we should have…done it elsewhere."

"It's a bit late for that."

"You're the one who started, you should have at least chosen another place genius." 

"I have to admit it but, true."

"They'll definitely figure out you're the one who started, you basically entered after me."

"I hate you."

"No, you don't. You just don't like me." He corrected Spencer, as he opened the door to walk out, walking out of the room.

It didn't take much for some of their coworkers's eyes to lay on them as they entered their vision.

Spencer discreetly approached y/n after Hotch began talking, making sure the attention was elsewhere.

"I'm going to show you how much I 'just don't like you' when we're out of here, you're gonna see."

"Deal."

*

*

[scarletwinterxx]

voted most likely to run away with you

Okay but this is probably one of my most fave one? 😂 I do apologize for the slow updates but I’ve been very busy this past few weeks. I hope you like this one!

For my other works you can check them out here, and for my other story series’ you can check them out here.

All works are copyrighted ©scarletwinterxx 2020 . Do not repost, re-write without the permission of author.

It’s always nerve racking on your first day of school. Especially now that you’re the new girl on campus, you can feel the anxious to the tip of your fingers. 

You made sure you got to your first class early so you don’t have to awkwardly enter the room when there’s too many people. Sitting quietly on the side as few more students walk in. 

You were too lost in your own world to notice someone standing by your table, you only looked up when someone cleared their throat

“What do you think you’re doing?” the girl asked

“Uh sitting”

“Was that suppose to be funny?” she sasilly asked, not knowing what to say back you just gapped at her. She was about to say something when someone spoke from the back of the class

“What are you doing?” the guy asked, you looked over to see a very unimpressed but veru good looking guy

“She’s sitting on your seat” she answered, crossing her arms and sending you a glare

“I don’t know there was a sitting arrangement” you mumbled, feeling embarrased. Thankfully someone saved you from your misery, 

“No we don’t, you can seat there sweetheart. Stop bothering girls who come close within Jeno’s radius, will you” he sassily told the other girl, feeling like you’re in the middle of a fight 

“I-”

“Leave her alone”

“Yea Haechan, leave me alone” she smirked but the boy, Haechan, just smirked back at her

“I was talking to you, leave the new girl alone” Jeno, you guess, told the girl. 

You weren’t sure how your first day was going to go but that was definitely not how you imagined it would go.

Jeno took the seat behind you, not sparing anyone in the room a single glance. It was like nothing happened just moments ago,

“Thank you” you mumbled to him, he looked up at you with a blank look on his face

“I don’t like being bothered early this morning”

Oh okay then, you nodded then turned your attention to the front. 

You didn’t see the way Haechan shot Jeno a look, the latter shaking his friend off ignoring him completely. 

That was the first encounter you had with Lee Jeno. 

As the weeks passed by you learned that he’s pretty much the most popular boy on campus, along side his three bestfriends. It’s like something straight out of a movie, whenever you see them walking down the halls, there’s a guarantee that heads will turn their way. 

You’re no exception. but not for the same reason the rest of their fanclubs have. You were just curious about them. 

The first one you met was the mood maker of the group, Lee Haechan. He’s pretty much friends with everyone. He was also the one who stood up for you on your first day. Pretty much since then you’ve considered him to be a friend too. There was something light about him, like you want to be friends with him. The second one was the foreign artsy boy, Huang Renjun, you always see him and Haechan arguing. Jokingly ofcourse, it’s always funny to overhear them argue about something pointless while waiting for your next class. The third one was a bit intimidating, Na Jaemin, He always have his earphones on with a blank expression on his face not really paying attention to his friends or at anything really. But when he’s with friends he can get just as rowdy. In contrast to his resting bitch face, he’s actually quite a sweetheart..

The last one, you aren’t going to lie, caught your eye the most. Lee Jeno. Although his initial appearance looked very intimidating, there was something comforting about him. He feels safe. That doesn’t make any sense since you don’t even know him or any of them, but that’s your initial impression on them.

You’ve mostly kept to yourself, you occasionally hangout with your classmates but most of the time you roam the halls or stay in the library by yourself. You don’t mind. 

It was currently vacant time for you so you decided to go outside and sit on one of the benches. Pulling some of your notes out to study for a bit before your next class. 

Too immersed in your reading, you didn’t notice the looming figure on the side. Totally catching you by surprise, making you jump up your seat

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you”

“No, it’s fine” you smiled up at him

“Actually I have something to ask you”

That caught you by surprise, “Uh sure what is it?”

“I was just wondering if you wanted to go out with me some time?”

“Uh-”

“What are you doing?” You hear someone ask from behind you, looking over to see Jeno looking straight at Hyunjin

“Nothing that concerns you”

How you always end up in middle was a mystery to you, “He was just asking me something”

“If you think you can even get close to her, get lost” your eyes widened at Jeno’s words. 

Is he angry? at you? at Hyunjin? What is he talking about?”

Hyunjin took his gaze off of Jeno then to you, you feel him stand closer behind you until you’re practically between the two boys

“Uh I think it’s time for one of you to go, or maybe I should” before you could stand up, Jeno’s hand land on your shoulder. Gently. 

“He’ll go, right Hyunjin? Your presence is not needed here anymore” 

The guys exchanged looks before Hyunjin walked away without another word. 

You looked over at Jeno to ask him what just happened but he was already walking away, quickly gathering your stuff you jogged quickly after him. 

When you got close enough, you pulled the back of his jacket making him halt his steps

“What the heck was that about?”

“Don’t worry about it”

“I think I should, since I feel like it concerns me” you told him ,feeling a bit aggravated with the way he was acting. 

Not knowing that the guy across you is thinking just how cute you looked, glaring up at him like you could take him on.

You’d probably win. 

“If he bothers you again, tell me”

“That doesn’t explain anything, Lee Jeno”

“If he bothers you, tell me” he repeated his words, making you nod in agreement

“Okay good, now go study in the library. It’s colder in there anyways” he said then walked away.

Few days have passed since that incident, Hyunjin acted like it never happened. Like you don’t exist. It’s still confusing just what went down that day but what’s more confusing is the boy sitting behind you. 

Lee Jeno changes his mood like the weather, you’re never sure just what it will be the next day. One time while waiting for class you start, you were sitting on your seat skimming through your notes, your hair kept falling on your face so you keep tucking it behind your ear. It went on and on. 

Then suddenly you feel someone tug on your hair, catching you by surprise

“Do you have a hair tie?” Jeno whispered by your ear, at this point you’re pretty sure the whole had their eyes on the two of you but that was not where your attention was. 

Jeno was literally so close to you, you can feel his breath on the side of your face

“Huh?” you dumbly asked making the boy chuckle, “You know those things you use to tie your hair”

It was mistake to look to side and be face to face with him because he was literally right on your face. Your cheeks burning at this point. Not being able to form any words, you just held your wrist up showing him the hair tie. 

He smiled then took it from you before leaning back on his seat. You feel his fingers weave through your hair, “What are you doing?”

“Braiding your hair”

“You know how to?”

“Mhm”

He didn’t say much after that, you didn’t say anything either. Still on the process of trying to calm your raging heart. Meanwhile Haechan was trying to hold back his laughter, Jeno shooting him a quick glare to keep him quiet. 

That’s when the rumors started. 

The new girl got the It Boy. 

You’re never one to mind what other people say about you. That came in handy during these times since you can practically feel the daggers coming from Jeno’s fangirls. 

Planning to talk to him about it, you tracked Jeno down after class one day. Finding him by the parking lot with his friends. Renjun was the first one who spotted you walking towards them, patting Jeno on the arm making the latter look over. 

“Hi, uh can we talk” feeling a bit intimated when all four pair of eyes landed on you, keeping your gaze on Jeno

“That’s our cue to leave” Haechan said, pulling Renjun along with him. Jaemin shooting a smile before following behind the two boys. 

“You said you wanted to talk?” Jeno asked when you didn’t speak again

“Uh yea well, can you like tell your fanclub we’re not like dating or anything like that” at this point you wished the ground would open up and swallow you whole. You can’t believe you just asked him that, he probably doesn’t even want to be acquianted with you like that either. 

“And if I don’t”

“Sorry, pardon?” you leaned your ear closer to hear him clearly

“I said, what if I don’t?”

“Don’t what?”

“Don’t want to tell them that” he said with an amused look on his face, finding your expression cute. There’s that glare again, looking like you can take him down. 

You already did.

“But we’re not dating. Come on, Jeno please” you exasperatedly said

“I don’t really care what they say, why do you?” it took you a few seconds to answer, gathering your thoughts to give him a coherent one

“And why would you want to be acquainted with me? I’m like-”

“Like what?” he asked like he was challenging you

“I’m me, you’re you”

“That’s not a very solid argument” he laughed, making you sigh out loud

“Please can you just tell them that, I’d very much appreciate it if they don’t glare at like like their ready to jump me every time I walk in the room”

 He walked towards you, crouching down until you were eye to eye

“I don’t know, I kinda like it though”

“Whyyyy” you grumbled, even stomping your feet 

Jeno wanted nothing but to keep you in his pocket, if he could. You were being so adorable, it took every bit of self control not to gather you in his arms and whisk you away. 

“Because maybe I do want to date you”

You looked at him with an unimpressed expression, rolling your eyes at him

See, the cutest. Jeno thought. 

“You’re weird you know that” now that’s not the response Jeno was expecting, but it was so you to say that. 

“I’m weird because I like you?”

“Stop saying that” you’re now a blushing mess, that was the final straw for him. 

He pulled on your arms until you were flush against him, 

“And I don’t?”

“I-”

“You?”

“You’re driving me crazy, Lee Jeno” you grumbled then pushed him away, walking off leaving him behind. 

“You’re driving me crazy, too” Jeno said as he watch you walk across the lot, a small smile playing on his lips. 

From that day one, it seemed like you can’t get the boy off your mind. Much like he can’t keep you off of his. 

But unlike you, he wasn’t afraid to show it. You were shocked when he suddenly sat across from you during lunch, 

“What are you doing here?”

“Eating”

“I can see that but why are here? Your friends are right there” you said while pointing to where the other three guys were sitting, 

“I want to sit here though” he shot you his very adorable eye-smile before he resumed eating

“I have a question” you told him, “Sure, I'll go on a date with you” you just shot him a glare, him showing you another smile

“Remember when you said to tell you if Hyunjin bothers me again?”

“Why? Did he? When?” he asked, his expression and posture completely changed

“No no, he didn’t. He hasn’t since that day, really. I was just wondering what was that about” you told him, watching Jeno relax once again but not missing the way he clenched his jaw when you mentioned that incident

“I overheard him and some other guys betting on you, saying he could make you go out with him then not show up” 

That was what it was about? Why would Jeno care though when he barely knew you back then

“Why did you stop him though?”

He looked over at you, eyes on yours like he was trying to say his answer without actually saying it out loud

“I can’t read minds, you know” you mumbled, breaking the tension. Jeno chuckling at your statement. 

“No one deserves to be treated like that, first of all. And secondly, have you ever thought I meant it when I said I like you?” he asked you

“You’re being weird again” was all you said back to him

“Careful now, next time you call me weird I might have to prove you wrong” he smirked at you. You didn’t how he’ll prove you wrong, worried your pretty little heart might not be able to handle it. 

You just bit your lip and look back down on the table, feeling Jeno’s gaze still on you. Not knowing just how weak you’re making him right now. Just how much power you hold over him. 

“Tell me again why you called me to talk at this time of the night?” You asked Jeno who was walking beside you, 

“Just cause”

“And you happen to bring this bottle of goodness with you?” you asked, holding up the banana milk he just gave you

“Knew you wouldn’t say no if I give it to you”

“Smart”

You really didn’t have any destination in mind, just walking along the streets. You didn’t actually mind that he called you. It was the weekend, you don’t have any  plans beside staying at home and watching some shows. 

“Hey, wait” Jeno said making you halt your steps, then he was crouching down in front of you

“Yah what are you doing?” you asked

“Your laces are untied” he answered as he took your shoelaces and tied them back together. “There” he said when he was done, smiling up at you. 

Just then you swear you felt your heart skip a beat.

Who knew this intimidating, scary, cold looking guy was such a sweetheart?

“Why are you looking at me like that? You’re worrying me” he chuckled at you, standing back up so now you’re face to face

“Lee Jeno”

“Mhm, that’s me”

“You’re very weird” you whispered, then his arms were around you. Tangling around your waist until you were flush against his chest. Your heart hammering away in yours. 

“You want to say that again, sweetheart?”

“You’re weird, Lee Jeno” then his lips were on yours. You didn’t expect him to be so gentle, but he was. His lips were as light as feathers on yours, the taste of the sweet drink still on his lips making you smile

When the two of you broke apart you were still smiling at him, 

“What?” he asked

“Okay maybe now I believe you” you told him, “That’s all you needed? I should’ve kissed you back then” that earned him a smack on the arm

“Shut up”

“You like me”

“Unfortunately” you said then started to walk again

“Hey, no running away from me now”

You looked over to him, seeing the smile he had on was enough to convince you. Holding his hand out for you to take,  

“Want to run away with me instead?” 

[robininthelabyrinth]

Spilled Pearls

- Chapter 23 - ao3 -

Lan Qiren woke with a start at the sound of something slamming to the point of cracking – a door thrown too hard, perhaps, or the shattering of a piece of furniture under the strength of a powerful cultivator.

Dazed at having been woken so abruptly at such a late hour, he at first thought that the sound was an aberration of some sort, someone making too much noise by mistake, even some cultivation maniac doing exercises in the middle of the night that had briefly lost control, but then the sounds continued, crashing and slamming and even indistinct shouting.

Indistinct, and unfamiliar, but still recognizable – that was Wen Ruohan’s voice.

Lan Qiren had never heard him shout before.

He stood up, instinctively checking over his clothing and fixing his forehead ribbon, and padded out towards the door to the hallway. The array used to create enough silence to let him sleep was glowing faintly, doing its work against overwhelming odds, but Lan Qiren didn’t hesitate to dismiss it and pull open the door, poking his head out to see what was going on.

“ – what use are you?” Wen Ruohan was shouting, some distance down the hall. “Good-for-nothing bitch! What do you think I got you for in the first place?”

He was standing outside his wife’s door.

Lan Qiren had not seen Madame Wen on this visit, other than in passing. He’d been relieved to discover that he had heard accurately and that she had not suffered on account of what she had done, except perhaps as a result of her husband making clear that he would give her exactly what he had promised her out of their marriage and nothing more. Despite that, every time she saw him, she generally had an expression that resembled smelling something bad, and he didn’t especially want to deal with her irrational jealousy. 

(Lan Qiren could understand and even appreciate the truth that she had shown him, but it didn’t mean he appreciated the reasoning behind her actions - just as Wen Ruohan might appreciate the cunning and ambition demonstrated by her actions, and begrudgingly acknowledge that the real fault for their divide was his own actions, but not feel any more inclined to her as a result.)

Lan Qiren thought he might have to deal with her more, particularly on the few times he had visited little Wen Xu, who was already a size or two larger than he’d started out – it was simply shocking in terms of how much time had passed since he’d had his argument with Wen Ruohan – but he found that the child was largely being watched by servants, not the Madame, who was busy ruling the social scene of the Nightless City. Whether that was true or merely an excuse, by now it was clear that they were in mutual agreement that they did not want to spend any time in each other’s presence.

She was also, very clearly, refusing to let Wen Ruohan into her bedroom.

Lan Qiren couldn’t blame her: he’d never seen Wen Ruohan in a state like this. His clothing was mussed up, his hands clenched, his face red, his aura frighteningly strong and overwhelming, his monstrously powerful qi roiling the air in the hallway into an incipient storm – and even from the distance he was standing, Lan Qiren could smell the distinct odor of strong liquor, suggesting that Wen Ruohan had overindulged in alcohol at some point after Lan Qiren had gone to sleep. Based on casual mentions in prior conversation, Lan Qiren knew that Wen Ruohan’s cultivation level was so high as to render him largely unaffected even by significant drinking, but the fact that he had bothered to try to seek solace in the wine jar suggested that there was something incredibly wrong with his mental state. 

It wasn’t a qi deviation - the violent emanations were unsettled, but not distorted - but it wasn’t good, either.

Wisdom would counsel that Lan Qiren keep back and not get in Wen Ruohan’s way.

Righteousness, on the other hand…

Anyway, Wen Ruohan was his sworn brother. What sort of brother would Lan Qiren be if he took only the good and not the bad?

“Da-ge?” he called, stepping out into the hallway. “Da-ge, come away from there.”

Wen Ruohan turned to him, and his expression was frightening. “Fine. You’ll do,” he growled, and it was only because Lan Qiren had grown wiser and stronger that he realized what was about to happen and dodged before Wen Ruohan could grab him, darting back into his room.

Wen Ruohan followed him in.

“What happened?” Lan Qiren asked, still backing away. “You were fine at dinner – what happened since then?”

For some reason, that set Wen Ruohan off again, turning his attention away from Lan Qiren, and he grabbed the table and threw it into the wall, smashing it all to pieces. 

“That fucker,” he snarled, his eyes blank and distant. He wasn’t angry at Lan Qiren, that much was clear, but he was filled with ceaseless rage, and he was taking it out on everything around him. “That fucker got married! He’s got a son!”

Lan Qiren blinked. “…what?”

Smash went the cabinet, and all the various things on it. At least Wen Ruohan hadn’t started in on the paintings, which were the only aspect of the room Lan Qiren actually cared or worried about.

“Who got married and had a son?” Lan Qiren asked, even though he knew it would only inflame Wen Ruohan further. At this point, it was clear that Wen Ruohan’s had gotten stuck in his chest, like black blood that needed to be coughed; he needed to vent his anger or else it would curdle within him and he would suffer. “Normally that’s a good thing, a cause for celebration. Why is it bad here?”

“Because it’s Lao Nie!” Wen Ruohan burst out, and Lan Qiren rocked back on his heels in shock.

It wasn’t that he hadn’t known that Lao Nie had been unusually distracted these past few months, even most of a year – the way he’d ignored or disregarded Lan Qiren’s letters about the situation with He Kexin, the breezy and almost manic tone of his replies to Lan Qiren’s brother, which Lan Qiren had seen, it all spoke of distraction and carelessness, all typical of Lao Nie, albeit of far greater severity than usual.

Nor was it truly a surprise that none of them had been informed: the Qinghe Nie had always been idiosyncratic about their personal details, unusually secretive and fiercely proud of it. They did not share their birth date or even year, other than for arranging a marriage. If Lan Qiren had thought about it, he wouldn’t have been at all surprised to find out that Lao Nie would have married and had a child all without having shared any information on the subject until afterwards.

Only…

“But aren’t you – with him?” he asked, and knew immediately that he had asked the wrong question.

Wen Ruohan roared and smashed yet another thing, sending a palm strike through a dresser and denting the stone wall with the power of it. “He’s mine,” he spat. His eyes were even redder than usual, the sclera becoming red alongside the iris; it made him look almost possessed, almost as if he really were having some sort of qi deviation. “He’s mine, damn it! Who is he to give himself to another? And he didn’t even tell me…!”

They were definitely in a relationship, Lan Qiren confirmed to himself. His guess had been right. There could be no doubt about it. And yet, despite it all, Lao Nie had –

No, he couldn’t even express surprise. Lan Qiren knew Lao Nie, knew what he valued and how he valued it: Lao Nie had always been passionate and powerful, strong and superior, friendly and often kind, and yet at his core he was ruthless, careless, and selfish, just like Wen Ruohan was so often selfish. He did not concern himself overmuch with questions of righteousness, other than to the degree necessary to win glory to his sect as one on the righteous path. After his sect, which he valued most of all, he was an indolent pleasure-seeker, with terrible taste in partners, the more dangerous the better; Lan Qiren had seen him flirting with people left and right long after he’d concluded that he’d entered into a relationship with Wen Ruohan.

In the past, Wen Ruohan hadn’t seemed to mind. If anything, he’d even encouraged him, looking smug and amused by the flirtations, taking the other man’s victories as his own; during one incident that Lan Qiren could recall, he’d all but applauded when Lao Nie had successfully wooed some rogue cultivator and taken her back to his bed, turning instead to his own separate amusements after.

Then again, that wasn’t a marriage.

(Of course, Wen Ruohan himself had also gotten married…)

“How dare he,” Wen Ruohan said, panting a little from his own exertion, clearly more moved by the feelings raging within him than any type of physical exhaustion. “How dare he – does he think I’m desperate? Pathetic? Does he think I’d run after him, begging and humiliating myself..? I don’t need him at all!”

He turned once more, and this time his gaze focused on Lan Qiren.

“I have something of my own already,” he murmured, and this time Lan Qiren wasn’t fast enough to stop him as he caught him up in his arms, slamming his back against the wall.

Lan Qiren tensed, suddenly for a moment back in his rooms in the Cloud Recesses, looking up at a different brother who wanted to hurt him – but no, Wen Ruohan wasn’t the same, Wen Ruohan liked him. He was acting out of fury, not malice; there was no He Kexin here to goad him on, nothing like that.

Even the force of being pushed against the wall hadn’t actually hurt – Wen Ruohan had been careful even in his mindless rage, making sure that any impact was cushioned by his own arms rather than Lan Qiren’s back; Lan Qiren hadn’t even had the breath knocked out of him.

“Da-ge…!”

Wen Ruohan didn’t want to hear him. He put his hand on Lan Qiren’s mouth and pressed down, cutting off speech at once. They were pressed together so closely that the movement inadvertently dragged his sleeve onto Lan Qiren’s throat, almost making him gag, and he instinctively tried futilely to kick his way out – it didn’t work, of course.

Wen Ruohan pressed up against him, the front of his body burning like flame against Lan Qiren.

“You’re mine,” he said, reaching in to nuzzle the side of Lan Qiren’s head with his cheek. “My blood brother, bound by oath and blood; my shining pearl, untouched by the world. All good things should belong to me.”

Lan Qiren reached up to try to push away the hand at this mouth, wanting to speak even though he did not know what he would say, and at first he thought he’d done it. But then suddenly he was in motion, his back landing hard on the bed he’d been given, the impact softened by the blanket Wen Ruohan had wrapped around him when he’d brought him back to the Nightless City from the Cloud Recesses. Shocked by the unexpectedness of the abrupt movement, he gasped, a wordless inhale rather than any coherent words.

Less than a heartbeat, and Wen Ruohan was on top of him, pressing him down. His body seemed even hotter than usual, as if his whole spirit were aflame, his qi boiling in the air around them until Lan Qiren had the impression as though he ought to be able to see steam; his hands were hot where they pressed down on Lan Qiren’s shoulders, his lips burning as they pressed against his collarbone, and between his legs there was something hot pressing against him, too.

And still, Lan Qiren – was not afraid.

He wasn’t sure why. He’d been terrified when it had been his brother who had stood against him, disgusted when it had been He Kexin pawing at him in ways he did not and had never wanted, but Wen Ruohan, who was bound to him through nothing but a tricked oath…

“Da-ge,” he whispered. “Please stop.”

Wen Ruohan stilled. He didn’t get up or pull away, but he didn’t make any further movements.

“Please let me go.”

Wen Ruohan’s breathing was harsh in his ear. “You, too, little Lan?” he asked. “Just like him, making me think – don’t you like me?”

“I do,” Lan Qiren admitted. He might be stupid when it came to social interactions, might be slow and miss things that were obvious, but even he could figure out what Wen Ruohan meant, with his confession of how Lan Qiren lingered in his thoughts and in pressing him down on the bed like this while mourning the loss of Lao Nie, his lover. And maybe sometimes he needed Cangse Sanren to point things out to him, but most of the time he knew himself. This past week had made clear enough that he enjoyed Wen Ruohan’s endless indulgences in a spirit that was more than just pure brotherhood. “I do like you. But I don’t like – this.”

Wen Ruohan was silent for a long moment.

“Not this, with me,” he finally said. “Or not – at all?”

“At all,” Lan Qiren said. He had thought when he was younger that he might change, but he was increasingly sure that he wouldn’t, that this was just what he was like. “I was never like the others my age. Even Yueheng-xiong, who I would’ve thought loved nothing but mathematics and explosions, has found himself distracted by the shape of the one he likes. But not me. I don’t yearn the way they do. I can love a person’s spirit, but I never much cared for the flesh.”

“Love,” Wen Ruohan echoed, his voice oddly uneven. “You speak of - love?”

“…isn’t that what we’re talking about?”

Wen Ruohan laughed, a jagged and choked up thing, and then he pulled away, letting Lan Qiren go, sitting up on the bed and burying his face in his hands. The qi around him was still too-hot, overwhelming, pulsing with his feelings, even as his shoulders shook and he stared blankly at the wall; any other man, and Lan Qiren might think he was crying, but he could see Wen Ruohan’s face through his fingers, and there were no tears there.

Perhaps he’d forgotten how.

Lan Qiren slowly sat up himself.

He could still feel the mild stiffness of old healing injuries, but he ignored them and got up off the bed, going to the one side table that had yet to be destroyed – the one where he’d laid his guqin to rest. It turned out that Wen Ruohan had only destroyed the things he himself had put into the room; he hadn’t touched anything of Lan Qiren’s.

Lan Qiren settled in front of his guqin and began to play.

Out of all the compositions he had created, his favorite was the one he had first created at the Nightless City, that strange hypnotic melody that brought to mind spilled pearls, but unlike some of the others he’d worked on, it had never felt fully completed. The music wrapped itself around the listener, at first intimate and then oppressive, a heavy stone in their chest and pressure on their skull, growing darker and darker, just as he’d written it – but now he played onwards, elaborating on the theme in ways he hadn’t planned or expected, letting the solemn notes brighten, the overwhelming pressure turning from suffocating into safe as it became clear that it would cause no harm, the storm passing by overhead and leaving things clean and clear and better, the lingering euphoria of finding oneself supported, rather than alone.

When his fingers finally stilled, Lan Qiren looked up and saw Wen Ruohan sitting there with his back straight again, hands resting gently in his lap, eyes closed as if in meditation and face calm once more. His qi no longer coiled around him, lashing out; it had settled once more.

“You will,” Wen Ruohan said without opening his eyes, “be an excellent traveling musician, little Lan. People will fight for the right to hear you, and you will never go without an audience.”

Lan Qiren hesitated, not sure what to make of such a compliment, or what Wen Ruohan meant by it. He’d only intended to play something to help him settle his qi and soothe his rage, which he’d clearly accomplished. He hadn’t even meant to play that particular song, other than in the way that he tended to default to it when he had nothing else specific in mind. It had always been unsatisfying, like an itch, but now it finally felt complete.

“Da-ge –” he started to say, not knowing what he would say next, but at any rate he never had the chance to continue.

“When you do finally go to fulfill your dreams, leaving the dust of the world behind you, I hope that you visit the Nightless City often,” Wen Ruohan said. His tone was still calm, settled, but not, Lan Qiren observed, peaceful: there were all sorts of seething emotions underneath it. “But for the moment, I think it is better if you return to the Cloud Recesses.”

Lan Qiren hesitated once again, this time feeling a little hurt. “You don’t want me here?”

“I do,” Wen Ruohan said, and his lips curved into something that was not a smile; it seemed almost painful a shape to contort into, and his eyes reflected no humor at all when he opened them. “Very much. Ah, little Lan, if only you knew…despite that, I would still have you go. Having made my views on you clear to your brother, it should be safe, and I do not want you to see what beast I make of myself when I am denied.”

Lan Qiren bowed his head a little. “About Lao Nie…”

“I know what he’s like,” Wen Ruohan said. “I’ve always known, from the start. If you had asked me a few days ago, I would have said that I did not have any illusions…”

He smiled bitterly.

“It seems that I misjudged myself.”

“I’ll go,” Lan Qiren said. He didn’t especially want to, but Wen Ruohan wasn’t in a rage, nor lashing out unthinkingly. To refuse him would be to deny him, to treat him as if he could not make his own decisions, and that, he thought, would be worse. “If you want me to, I’ll go, and later, I’ll return.”

Wen Ruohan said nothing, but he watched as Lan Qiren pulled on some more clothing, not caring which one it was, and did his hair back up in the simplest style, favoring speed over substance; he packed away his guqin and his sword and one of the paintings that he had liked best, but took nothing else – after all, it wasn’t as if he were going away for good.

He made it to the door before hesitating, then turned back to look at Wen Ruohan, who was still watching him.

“Is there anything…?” he asked haltingly. “Something I can get you…?”

“Send one of the maids to me,” Wen Ruohan said. “Any of them, it doesn’t matter which. If they’re still hanging around in the family quarters after an eruption like that, it can be seen that their ambition has overcome their good sense, making them a perfect match for me. It would be a shame to deny them the fruits of their victory.”

Lan Qiren didn’t quite understand, but he knew enough to get the gist; he felt his cheeks and ears go hot. Still, he had offered, and it wasn’t something he was willing to do himself, so there was really no basis for refusing to pass along the request. He nodded and slipped out – as Wen Ruohan predicted, there was one of the maids lingering at the far corner, looking around in blatant curiosity. She was pretty enough, Lan Qiren supposed, with an upturned nose and a slightly arrogant air, her clothing carefully arranged to be just a little mussed in a way that Lan Qiren understood most men to find attractive.

“Your sect leader is in my room,” he told her, and she blinked at him. “If you go to him now, he’d probably accept. Up to you, though.”

She stared at him for a moment, then nodded. He left, his head held high; when he glanced back anyway, he saw her going into his room, hair patted down and clothing even more carefully arranged – Wen Ruohan hadn’t been wrong when he speculated as to her ambitions. The life of a powerful sect leader, Lan Qiren supposed: desired but never known, as distant from those around him as Lan Qiren but as a consequence of his position rather than his inclination.  

He would definitely return, Lan Qiren decided. Perhaps he would even make the Nightless City the first destination on his travels. After all, why should he not? Was Wen Ruohan not his sworn brother, too?

Yes, Lan Qiren thought. That was right.

Wen Ruohan deserved to have someone possess him as he longed to possess others.

[willowbird]

7, 2 and 2 🥺🥺

Foxes as kids, roommates, inside Andrew's closet.

In which Neil is the monster under the bed and Andrew's closet is the only safe place for either of them.

Warnings for mentions of child abuse.

---

Andrew usually hated having roommates. He had to have them when he was in the group home (no one got their own room there) and sometimes when he was with a foster family he had to share with another kid - and he always hated it. The one exception, though, was the monster that lived under Andrew's bed.

The monster wasn't like those in the scary stories and tv shows. He was a just a boy - who was actually younger and tinier than Andrew was! He had dark dark red hair and bright bright blue eyes and little black horns and sharp teeth and even a tail, and Andrew really thought that he was losing it the first time he saw him because look... it wasn't even close to Halloween and the kid had just crawled out from under his bed and then vanished again underneath it and Andrew had checked and he was really gone.

Neil (that was the monster's name) had told him that it was kind of a legend in his world (yup, his world) that sometimes a monster kid would be tied by fate to a kid in the human world. A lot of the legends apparently talked about how this was a test of some kind, how the monster kid was supposed to scare the human so bad he wet his pants or something like that.

(Andrew thought that was kinda stupid, but he supposed that lined up well enough with the stories he had heard about monsters under the bed.)

But Neil didn't want to scare anyone. When Andrew had asked Neil what he did want, though, Neil wouldn't ever answer him. He just got a little sad and a lot angry and then they'd fight and Neil would crawl back under the bed and disappear for a while.

He always came back though. And when Andrew was moved to a different house, Neil came too. Sometimes it would take a few days, and sometimes Neil couldn't get into a certain house through the space under the bed and so the doorway to his world would bring him through the closet instead, but he always came.

Which was why it made Andrew more than a little bit anxious when almost a whole month went by after his most recent move, and he hadn't seen Neil at all. He'd checked under the bed and in the closet every single night, but there was nothing. He was about to go from worried to angry when, at half-past midnight on the twenty-seventh night in the Lucas's house, Andrew heard quiet crying coming from the closet.

Andrew was on his feet in an instant, dropping his flashlight and the book he was reading on the bed, nearly tripping over the area rug, and skidding to a halt before the door before wrenching it open.

And there was Neil, curled up on the floor hugging his knees to his chest. He was crying and... and he was hurt. There was a cut on his lip and his face was all bruised and Andrew was so angry he almost slammed the door shut again.

"S-sorry," Neil murmured as he looked up, probably seeing the anger in Andrew's face. "I... I was gonna come sooner but..."

Andrew cut him off with a glare and a raised hand, telling him to wait. He then hurried back to his bed to grab the flashlight. Light acquired, he returned to the closet and Neil scooted over so Andrew could sit next to him, shutting the door to their special place.

Because you see, when Neil was there, whether it was under Andrew's bed or in his closet, no adult could get to him. The whole world outside the space shut off. If Andrew's foster parents were yelling at each other, their shouts and curses faded into complete silence when the closet door was shut or the bedskirt brushed the floor around them. If an adult came looking for him and opened the closet door or got down on their hands and knees to look under the bed, they'd see only shoes and toys and other discarded things - but no Andrew, no Neil. It was something to do with the magic that was his monster, because no one was able to see him except Andrew, and since Neil wanted to be seen by Andrew that meant that he was sorta... absorbed into that power too or something.

It meant that whenever they were together... they were both safe.

"I'm gonna kill him," Andrew promised quietly once they were both sitting criss-cross and facing each other in the narrow space.

Neil's eyes went wide, terrified, and he shook his head quickly. "N-no! No. You can't.."

"The hell I can't, Neil! You keep me safe. I wanna keep you safe too!"

They had had this argument before. When Andrew first saw the scar on Neil's shoulder and found out it was from his stupid bastard dad from the year before Neil first slipped out from under his bed. Andrew had been just a little kid back then, but he was eleven now. He could kill someone. If it was to protect Neil, he was pretty sure he could do anything.

"No," Neil said again, voice hushed even though they both knew no one on either side of their special space could hear them. "No. I... It wasn't even him. Mom..." He shook his head and rubbed his arms. That was when Andrew realized what Neil was wearing.

Normally, Neil gave off total rich-kid vibes. Even monsters had designer clothes, apparently, and Neil definitely had the monster-world version of The Gap or whatever rich people wore. But today he was dressed in drab, baggy jeans and a matching washed out t-shirt. His hair was a total mess, too, and looked like it needed to be cut.

"Neil," Andrew said, and it wasn't a question - it was a demand.

Neil grimaced, wringing his hands around his tail - a nervous habit he didn't realize he had and Andrew would never tell him about. "They... they found out... about you. About us. About... about how I can come here."

All the air in Andrew's lungs froze. It was a struggle to keep calm, to wait for Neil to continue on his own, because... because from the very first day Neil had told him 'no one can know - I don't know what they would do to us if they knew' and now that day was here and the anger in his chest was nothing compared to the fear suddenly pooling in his belly.

"Mom.. she took me and ran. So I wouldn't... so they wouldn't take me. Dad was... he was gonna give me to someone bad, someone who collects kids like me so they can find a way through and... Mom didn't want that to happen. She's protecting me..."

The protest was a weak one and Andrew pounced on it. "She's protecting you by beating the shit out of you?"

Neil bared all those sharp little teeth at him, but Andrew could never be afraid of Neil so he just glared back until his monster's resolve broke and he looked back down at his tail.

"She wants to keep me safe.. and I was being stupid..."

"I'll say you're being stupid," Andrew agreed, earning him a sharp look that he easily ignored. "Run. Come here. We'll both make a run for it together."

Neil's eyes widened. "What? No! What would we do, where would we go? You... you could get hurt! And it's not like I blend in, Andrew."

"We can travel at night. Or we can go someplace where everyone is super weird, like... like Seattle. There are loads of weirdos in Seattle, I bet no one would think twice about a boy with horns and a tail." If Andrew had been standing he might have stomped his foot.

"Now you're being stupid," Neil hissed out (and yeah, actually hissed, his voice got all... hissy... sometimes when he was mad).

Andrew grit his teeth and made a sound kind of like a growl that Neil had once complimented as sounding really monster-like. He wasn't making the sound to impress his friend right now though, he was making it because he was mad and frustrated and scared and... and a lot of things.

Then an idea came to him, sudden and bright and it was so genius it instantly flooded him with hope. His hands darted out and cupped over Neil's, holding both of them around the other boy's tail. "I know!"

"What?" Neil's eyes were wide again, but this time he leaned forward, taken up by Andrew's excitement.

"A witch. We need a witch. A witch can make you blend in over here, and maybe even help us until we're big enough to pass as adults."

Now Neil looked a little afraid, leaning back apprehensively. "A witch? There... there are really witches over here? I heard... I heard they do bad things to monsters."

"Can't be any worse than what monsters do to monsters or people do to people," Andrew reasoned, not willing to give up this opportunity. "Besides, if there really are monsters that live under the bed, there've got to be witches too."

Neil licked his lips, then looked down at their joined hands. He stared at them for a very long time before taking a slow, deep breath, apparently gathering his resolve. Then he nodded and looked up again, meeting Andrew's eyes.

"Okay," he finally said. "We... we'll find a witch. And... and we'll protect each other."

Andrew nodded back. He squeezed Neil's hands in promise. "We will. Forever, Neil. We'll always protect each other."

"Forever," Neil echoed. Then he gave a tiny, sharp-toothed smile. "And always."

[blu-joons]

DATING SEVENTEEN A⇴Z HEADCANON ⇴ Lee Jihoon

A ⇴ AFFECTION

It took a while for Jihoon to get comfortable with affection with you, for a long time he was quite awkward around you, but once he found what you both liked, he would refuse to ever really let you out from his hold.

B ⇴ BEFORE DATING

When you first met Jihoon, you were convinced he hated you as he never spoke to you, however, as the two of you got to know each other better, you realised you’d misunderstood quite a bit about Jihoon after all, and as you learnt more about him, you realised what a nice and kind person he really was.

C ⇴ CONFESSION

Words were his instrument, and so was music, so he combined the two in order to be able to confess to you. Jihoon was far too shy to confess around you, so instead he sent you a demo of a small song that he’d been working on, letting you know that it was dedicated to you. The lyrics were sweet, but as you reached the end of the song and realised that it was a confession, you were straight on the phone to him to give him your reaction.

D ⇴ DATES

Every date with you had to be perfect in Jihoon’s eyes, no matter how big or small your date was, he meticulously planned every detail to ensure that you enjoyed every minute with him. Jihoon was open to trying anything if it was what you enjoyed, he was interested in the things that you were and willing to learn about something new. For him, he enjoyed taking you to concerts or shows, the musician in him never really was put to rest, so he would pay close attention to everything, which often left you in awe of his talents too.

E ⇴ EXPERIENCE

Jihoon had no experience of dating, the most he knew from it was about what he wrote in his songs, which he knew was often exaggerated. He turned to his members a lot for help when it came to dating to try and learn from what they knew. He especially wanted to try and learn from all of their individual charms so that he could put them into practice with you. He so often put himself down that he tried to pick up on so much about his other members, there were times you reminded him to just be himself a bit more.

F ⇴ FIGHTING

He has a very serious mindset, which can often lead to a few small disagreements between the two of you, especially if he’s trying to concentrate on something and you want his attention. Jihoon is always very careful with his words when he does get angry with you though, he knows what not to say to make sure that he doesn’t hurt you, but also say enough so that he can get his point across. Major arguments are terrifying for him, he worries a lot about losing you when things become too heated. He’s incredibly attached to you, and the last thing he wants to do is risk himself losing any of what you have together.

G ⇴ GETTING TO KNOW HIS FAMILY

To begin with, his family were a little apprehensive about Jihoon dating as they didn’t want you to get in the way of all his hard work. However, as they got to know you and witness the routine that the two of you had found yourselves in, they were relieved to see that the two of you had found the perfect balance between the two.

H ⇴ HOME

For a while, Jihoon had been considering his own studio anyway, but as your relationship progressed after a few months, his mind instantly began to think about perhaps a new apartment instead. He knew he saw you in his long-term future, and a forever home seemed like the perfect first home for you both too.

I ⇴ “I LOVE YOU”

Just like his confession, Jihoon never quite knew the way to say, ‘I love you,’ except for in the form of a song. When another demo was sent your way, you were very confused, however, like before, as you sat down and listened to the lyrics, you soon realised exactly what the song, and Jihoon, were trying to say to you.

J ⇴ JEALOUSY

There were definitely a few times when Jihoon would get jealous, he knew that some of his other members were louder, funnier, and would definitely be able to capture your attention better than he could. He would try and not let jealousy get the better of him in front of both you and his members too, but you’d usually be able to tell. Jihoon wasn’t the loudest anyway, but when he was feeling jealous, he would almost be silent as he kept an eye on you and made sure that none of his members pushed things too far.

K ⇴ KIDS

The thought of having children excited Jihoon greatly, especially the chance to be able to pass on a few of his musical genes to his offspring. He often dreamt about how his future would be with his son sat by a drum kit and his daughter at a keyboard, teaching them all of the notes and melodies that he used to come up with as a part of the band and helping them to follow all of their dreams just like his parents did.

L ⇴ LAUGHTER

Jihoon knew that he had quite a serious outlook on life, so he’d try hard at times to feel like he needed to justify that he could live carefree and find plenty funny in life. You knew how dedicated he was to his work, and never expected him to be anything that he wasn’t, but he wished sometimes that he could make you laugh as much as some of his other members did. Whilst you hated that he felt that way, you’d always make sure to laugh at his jokes and reassure him whenever he felt like he was being too serious about things and encourage him to relax sometimes and allow himself to smile and just breathe.

M ⇴ MISSING

When he was missing you, his emotions were poured into his music. He could often be found sat in his hotel room with a pad of paper and a pen in hand, scribbling down little things that maybe he could use in songs one day. He doesn’t like for the other members to see him missing you as a weakness, so he prefers to spend a bit of time by himself and cope in his own way. When he finally calls you, he’ll often share the lyrics with you so that you can see how he was feeling, but he’ll also be quick to reassure you that he’s not feeling as bad now as he was when he tried to write down all of the lyrics that came to mind earlier.

N ⇴ NICKNAMES

You tended to just call him ‘woozi,’ as a nickname because you heard so many other people call him by it. It would often take him by surprise when he’d heard his stage name come from you, but he loved to hear it.

O ⇴ OBSESSION

He was obsessed with your words it was very much a love language for Jihoon and helped to him to learn so much about you and your feelings as well.

P ⇴ PDA

Being affectionate in public wasn’t something that Jihoon was greatly passionate about he would never leave you to walk alone, but he also wouldn’t create a huge drama in public about the fact that the two of you were together. As long as you were comfortable both outside, and with him, then that was enough for him.

Q ⇴ QUESTIONS

He loved to get your opinion on all of the things that he created. Knowing that someone else liked what he wrote or composed and not just him always gave him a great confidence and pride in what he had done.

R ⇴ RANDOM FACTS

Jihoon’s room was a mess of lyrics sheets all composed because of you. It wasn’t just being away from home that gave him the enthusiasm to write, so much about you gave him triggers that inspired him. He loved to talk you through some of the situations that had inspired the lyrics, no matter how embarrassing they were. Jihoon could find inspiration at the most random times, but that was also something you greatly admired about him.

S ⇴ SEX

He was always very careful and understanding of your needs and the things that you liked, you would always be the priority and the focus of all of his attention, no matter how hard you tried to prioritise him instead. Jihoon would also be quite vocal during these moments, not loud, but he’d often whisper sweet words into your ears to remind you that he loved you and compliment how good of a job you were doing.

T ⇴ TEXTS

If he felt like he wasn’t spending enough time with you or wasn’t in contact with you enough then he would text you in an instant. He was terrified of leaving things too long and risking upsetting you by not saying hi sooner.

U ⇴ UNIVERSE

Song writing had always come fairly naturally to Jihoon, but it was only now that he had you in his life, did he feel like he had a focal point for his inspiration. So much of his work revolved around you and your relationship too.

V ⇴ VACATION

Whenever the two of you went on holiday, it was a job in itself for you to try and convince Jihoon to switch off from work and allow himself to relax. He’d still be searching for inspiration and coming up with things, despite your work supposed to be set up so that he could give his brain a rest and focus on something else for a change.

W ⇴ WHINING

Whining really wasn’t Jihoon’s style at all, if he wanted something, he’d just stay, but he’d never kick up too much of a fuss about anything that wasn’t going right.

X ⇴ XXXXX

He loves to cuddle you, and with that, he’ll often trail kisses against any part of your skin that is exposed to him. He relies on kisses a lot to often send you small messages that he’s thinking of you or that he’s still right there with you. Equally, he loves to receive kisses from you too and bask in your embrace and the love that you give him. If you kiss his cheek, you’ll always hit the mark and turn him into a shy mess.

Y ⇴ YOU

You were his muse, the perfect point that everything else focused around.

Z ⇴ ZZZ

He’d always fall asleep as close to you as possible, often humming random melodies behind you as you tried to sleep. His soft tunes were the perfect lullaby for you to fall asleep to and always allowed you to relax beside him.

---

Masterlist

[plant-flwrs]

I love your writing! Can you do a reader x fred where the reader’s whole family (like siblings) is slytherin except her and she’s in gryffindor and you can do whatever with it thank you!

rivalries as old as time // fred weasley

masterlist!

a/n: omg i’ve never written mean!george this was kind of scary hehe. n e way, hope u like it! thanks for ur request!

summary: Fred and George are usually united on everything, but Fred’s crush on Draco Malfoy’s sister is definitely something they disagree on.

(5k)

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You had never liked red, and as you fidgeted with your red tie for the fifth time, you felt an elbow to your side.

“Stop,” Fred Weasley whispered from beside you, sending a scowl your way, “It’s distracting.”

“Distracting from what? You have no intention of taking notes,” you said, looking at both his and your blank parchments in front of you.

“Distracting from my daydreams,” he said easily, leaning forward on his desk to rest his forearms against the wood, “I need to focus on them, they’re just getting good.”

“What’re they about?” you asked, hoping to sound rude. Fred looked at you in the corner of his eye, and he was regrettably forced to admit that your signature Malfoy smirk was insanely attractive.

“Oh you know,” Fred said, copying your actions to lean back in his chair, “ the usual. Trolls and Gremlins.”

The both of you slouched in your chairs, arms crossed, ignoring the awfully boring lecture Professor Binns was giving.

You rolled your eyes, annoyed by Fred. Your gaze drifted across the room, trying to find something entertaining for your crystal gray eyes to focus on.

Fred, meanwhile, was internally slapping himself. Trolls and Gremlins? That was so stupid!

He watched your blonde hair fall from where it was loosely tucked into a headband, and you brought a mindless finger to put the hair back. He watched your simple movements, entranced by you.

You and Fred didn’t get along. You are a Malfoy, and he’s a Weasley. But still, somehow, you both always found yourselves thinking of the other.

History of Magic was his favorite class, because of you.

You and Draco had crossed paths on the way to lunch, and he walked briskly over to you, dismissing some of his Slytherin friends. You paid no mind to their scowls and figured they felt so angry because Gryffindor was playing Slytherin next week on the pitch.

“Has mum sent an owl to you this week?” Draco asked, craning his neck a little to look at you. His growth spurt hadn’t struck him yet.

“Oh!” you said, beginning to dig through your bag, “Sorry, forgot about it.”

You pulled a small parcel from your bag, handing it to your brother. The two of you were nearing the Great Hall, where you would have to split and go your separate ways.

“What is it?” you asked, feeling an obligation to be nosy in your little brother’s business.

“Some ink,” Draco said lazily, tucking the package into his own bag, “it’s my lucky ink.”

“Why? Is it enchanted?” you asked, and then lowered your voice, “Is that how you get such high marks?”

Draco smiled at your compliment and shook his head no.

“No, I get those because I study,” he said flatly, a dig at the fact that you excelled more on the Quidditch pitch than the academics.

You jokingly narrowed your eyes at him, and just before he walked to the Slytherin table, you reached out and ruffled his gelled hair. His joking stature quickly turned serious, and you broke into a jog to get to the Gryffindor table and away from Draco. You watched him attempt to smooth back his hair, chuckling as you slid down on the bench, a few seats away from Fred and George.

Fred was hunched over a poorly drawn drawing that George pointed to continuously while he talked.

“If we took that one corridor, there's that curtain that leads here,” George said, moving his finger to the right, “and then we can easily get back in time!”

You didn’t bother to ask, knowing George wouldn’t tell you. As much as you and Fred would get into little arguments, George had it out for you. Despite being his housemate, it was a known fact that you were the target of his pranks. Last year, he had snuck into the girl's Quidditch changing rooms and stole your clothes. You had to beg Fred from where he stood on the outside of the tent to make his brother give his clothes back, and when that didn’t work, you waved your wand and said “Accio clothes”. George had never run so fast up a hill, and he still couldn’t escape your wrath.

You pulled a sandwich from the tray in front of you.

“Malfoy,” Oliver Wood said, catching your attention.

“Yeah?” you said, taking a large bite of your sandwich.

“Did you look over that play I sent you?” Oliver asked, referring to the crumpled note he had tossed at the back of your head during Charms.

“Yeah,” you said, chewing and fishing in your bag for the note.

You pulled it out and saw Fred looking towards you. You looked at him before returning to Oliver. You unfolded the paper and Oliver hunched over it as George had done down the table.

Oliver’s hands were all over the simple drawing, his words getting lost in your boredom. You loved Quidditch, but god, could Oliver be boring.

“What are you two talking about?” both of your heads snapped up to see Fred forcing himself between the two first years that sat across you.

Oliver handed him the paper, pointing at all the meanings of the symbols.

“This,” he finally said, catching his breath, “is how we’re gonna beat Slytherin next week.”

Your weeknights were spent with Oliver, both of you ranting on about strategies while also trying to get done some homework. You occupied a wooden table that was usually used for chess, but the board was moved over to the coffee table where Ron and Harry played.

Fred watched, nearly pouting, from his spot on the couch. He watched the way your light eyes would brighten at the words Oliver said to you, and how you would blush every time he offered you a compliment on your playing.

“Ready for practice tonight?” Fred said, sliding up next to you as you waited outside of Binns’ classroom.

“Yeah,” you said absentmindedly, picking at your nails.

“George and I won’t take it easy on you,” Fred said, his veiled attempt at sounding threatening failing.

“Oh, Fred,” you said, faking a shake in your voice, “you don’t mean that.”

Fred rolled his eyes at your teasing, following after you as you walked to your shared desk.

Both of you came down the Gryffindor stairs at the same time, dressed in your practice jerseys and equipment in hand.

You glanced at him and caught his eyes looking you up and down. You chuckled to yourself, and his face flushed red.

You walked through the portrait hole with Oliver, and Fred watched you as he waited for George.

The two of them twisted and tossed their beater bats from hand to hand as they were perched on their brooms. You and Alicia faced off near the ground, hovering stoically. It was no competition, you were a better flyer than Alicia. She nearly had you matched in the power of her arm, but you still had the upper hand.

Fred bit his lip as you extended yourself to reach for the Quaffle. Your legs were the only thing keeping you on the broom, but you didn’t pay any mind to the unsteadiness. The only thing you thought of was the play Oliver had ingrained in your mind the past week. You repeated his critiques in your head and made sure to fix your grip on the Quaffle.

Alicia trailed after you, and you dove under Angelina to avoid her grasp. They were both trailing after you now. Alicia was nearly taken off her broom by a Bludger, and risking a glance upwards, you saw Fred’s triumphant smile. It was lucky that Fred was on your team for this practice because George had a nasty habit of failing to block Bludgers from hitting you.

Nearing near the goal post, you easily wound your arm back and sent the Quaffle right past Oliver. He slapped his gloved hands on his broom and sent you a proud smile.

The practice continued, and you weren’t hit with a Bludger the whole time, no matter how many George sent at you. Fred was always there to send them off, and send you a wink after he did it. You won the practice scrimmage, but Alicia put up a good fight.

“We have this,” Alicia said, beaming at you as she shed her heavy robes in the changing room.

“If we don’t I think Oliver’ll have an aneurism,” you joked, pulling on a loose t-shirt.

Angelina chuckled, and Alicia continued to beam.

“Really lucky Fred saved you from all those Bludgers,” Katie Bell teased from behind you.

“George has got it out for me,” you said nonchalantly, shrugging your shoulders.

“Yeah, but, Fred sure kept you safe,” she continued to hint, but it went over your head.

“Well yeah, we can’t have an injury two days before the match,” you said, closing your locker and shuffling the combination.

Alicia rolled her eyes, and Angelina laughed.

“Yeah, that’s why,” Katie said, giving up.

You walked up the path to the castle and saw a clan of black robes walking down the path. You saw blond hair that matched yours peaking from one of them.

“Draco!” you called to your brother, breaking into a jog to reach him.

“Hey,” he said, breaking off from his Slytherin teammates.

“Are you guys ready for the match?” you asked excitedly.

Draco huffed out a defeated sigh, crossing his arms.

“No,” he admitted, glancing over his shoulder to make sure his housemates couldn’t hear him, “we bloody suck.”

You fought the cheeky smile that crept onto your face.

“Oh, that’s rotten, Draco,” you said, beginning to walk back down the hill with him, “I’m sure you’ll play your best.”

“I’ll try,” he said, beginning to shoo you off, “go do your homework.”

You rolled your eyes at your brother and waved him off, setting back up the castle.

The day of matches was always nerving, but it was even worse when it was against Slytherin. It felt like everyone in the school wanted you, needed you, to beat them.

You and Oliver sat shoulder to shoulder, both trying to get the other to eat something for breakfast. You both claimed to be too nervous, and then the other would say “that’s ridiculous, you have to eat!”.

Walking to the pitch, Harry Potter trailed behind all of you. You watched the twins stop to reach him, each wrapping a comforting and brotherly arm around his shoulders. You smiled to yourself, slipping into the changing room with the rest of the girls.

The crowd was roaring. It had never been this loud. Various chants sounded off, and you soon realized that someone in the Slytherin crowd learned a charm to louden their voice. Hateful words about Harry spouted from the green stands, and boos countered the Slytherin statements from the blue, yellow, and red bannered stands.

Taking the field, you hovered in front of Adrian Pucey as you had hovered in front of Alicia. Alicia was much nicer to look at, you thought, and she was a better player.

Pucey was barely moving before you soared off with the Quaffle tucked under your arm. You avoided the Slytherin chasers easily, twisting and ducking on your broom with the Quaffle on you like it was a third arm attached to your body. Cheers sounded off as you faked out Marcus Flint and Adrian Pucey, making them dive into each other and nearly sending them off their brooms.

You looked back, seeing Alicia wide open behind you. You glanced forward, the Slytherin keeper braced for your shot. You slowed, allowing Alicia to come to your side. You made a seamless pass to her that the keeper hadn’t noticed, and while he looked at you, Alicia came from the left and scored. You met her to high five, your arms outstretched.

Fred dove to you, following a very determined Bludger. His bat was nearly touching it, nearly about to send it off its path towards you. He was just about to reach it when you dove. Fred and the Bludger soared past you, and the Bludger redirected itself. Doing a loop, and seeing that you were no longer there, it went for the next best thing. Alicia barely had time to brace herself before the Bludger knocked her shoulder out of its socket. The painful injury only caused a short interruption, but she had some choice words for Fred and George for failing to hit the Bludger sooner.

After that one incident, the game continued in the same fashion. You and Alicia flew circles around the lacking Slytherin Chasers, and Oliver blocked nearly everything they sent at him.

The cheers from the crowd stayed consistent for the entire match. There was never a silent moment from any house. A renowned gasp fell across the crowd, though, as Draco changed direction quickly. He turned the end of his broom straight up, and with an outstretched hand, Harry was breathing down Draco’s neck. You watched your brother, his blond hair flying off his face, his long arms reaching out into the sky. You didn’t feel bad for rooting for Draco, because even if he caught it, you were so ahead it wouldn’t have mattered.

Draco’s pale fingers eventually did wrap around the snitch, and without thinking, he let go of his broom in the haste of catching the little thing. He began to fall from the sky, and you watched as his legs and arms flailed around him. His broom fell faster than he did, and you flew to him. You were pulling your wand from your boot when someone had beat you to it. Draco hung suspended in mid-air, his body limp. He raised his head, and you saw his ghostly cheeks flushed pink. He looked around, patting his body to check if he was still alive. When he realized he was, he raised his hand into the sky, showing the golden snitch. The green section roared with laughter, but Lee Jordan’s voice halted them.

“Just a reminder! The Gryffindor team still wins!”

Cheers from every other section sounded off, and you felt a pang of guilt in your heart. You could be a Slytherin, you should be a Slytherin, and here you were apart of one of the houses that cheered for your brother's losses.

You flew to Draco, watching as he tucked the snitch into his robe pocket. You hovered, and he climbed onto the back of your broom. You looked around to see who had saved him, only to see Fred’s smug smile above you. George hovered next to his brother, scowling at Fred. You watched Fred tuck his wand back into his robes, giving you a shy wave. You smiled back at him, a silent thanks for the help.

You flew Draco to the ground, where he collected his broom.

“You were great, Dray,” you said, clapping him on the back, “really.”

“We lost,” he spat at you, cringing from your touch.

“Yeah but that’s not your fault.” you consoled him, watching his face soften, “You did your job, you caught the snitch.”

Draco nodded at you, offering you an appreciative smile. You wrapped an arm around his shoulder and squeezed briefly, then sending him off to his sulking Slytherin team captain.

Oliver was already running towards you, arms outstretched.

“Y/n!” he called, and you smiled widely at him.

“You were amazing, Wood,” you called to him, letting him envelop you in a hug.

He pulled you over to the huddle of your teammates, and they were all beaming.

“Wasn’t Potter this time, was it?” Lee Jordan called from his place in the spectator box, “Y/n Malfoy, the best Chaser Gryffindor’s got!”

You blushed wildly at Lee’s exaggerated praise, ducking your head as your teammates all cheered for you.

Fred and George came tumbling from the sky, landing ungracefully on the ground.

“Think this calls for a party?” Fred asked, and everyone’s cheers increased.

The common room was transformed into an even more red and gold haven. Maybe red was growing on you.

You were standing at the center of a huddle, everyone’s glasses raised. Oliver had just made a quite longwinded speech, to which you cut off with:

“Let’s drink to that!”

Cheers came from everyone around you, and you brought your firewhisky to your lips.

“I still don’t get why you did that,” George shouted at his brother, his words slightly slurred. George never could handle his liquor.

“It was her brother, mate!” Fred shouted back.

“He’s a Malfoy! And so is she! Freaks, the lot of them!” George yelled, and the statement trailed over the crowd and to your ears.

You turned to look at the twins, meeting George’s disgusted face.

You pushed through the crowd and put yourself between the brothers, bringing your face to George’s.

“What’s your problem?” you shouted, and he cringed away from the loud noise.

“You!” he shouted back, and you could smell the alcohol on his breath.

“You’re a prick,” you said to him, sounding poisonous, “a drunk prick.”

George scoffed and brought a hand to your shoulder. He shoved you away, and you tumbled into Fred. Fred’s arms were around you before you could lunge at George as if he read your mind.

“Let me go!” you shouted to Fred, thrashing against him. George stood in front of you, taunting you. He waved his drink around, his drunken expression full of arrogance.

“I can’t!” Fred called out to you, then to George, “George, stop!”

George rolled his eyes and tossed back the rest of his drink. He stumbled off to somewhere else, leaving you in Fred’s grasp.

He felt your heavy breathing against his chest, your warm arms in his hands.

“You alright?” Fred spoke into your ear, his mouth moving against your hair.

“Yeah, I’m fine, you can let me go,” you said, wiggling from his grasp.

Fred hadn’t wanted to let you go, but he figured it would be odd if he kept you pulled against him.

“He didn’t mean that,” Fred started, but you waved him off.

“Yes he did,” you said. starting to walk away.

Fred reached out for you, pulling you back.

“I’m sorry,” Fred said, his eyes searching yours.

“Stop, Fred,” you said, pulling your arm from his hand again, “None of you Weasley’s have liked me since the day I was sorted into Gryffindor. It didn’t even matter who I was.”

Fred’s eyebrows furrowed at your statement, but he couldn’t find it in himself to feel anything but sympathy as he looked at your hurt expression.

“That’s not true, Y/n,” he started, but you turned again. He didn’t stop you that time.

Your mood was ruined. You filled your cup with more firewhisky, but at the bottom of each glass, all you could see was George’s disgusted face.

You had never done anything to the Weasleys, but that never stopped the redheads, or their friends, from sending you glares any time they saw you. You felt torn, torn by the unnaturalness of you being in Gryffindor, being away from your brother. You were torn by the fact that you felt weren’t even wanted by Gryffindor. No matter what you did, it was never right.

You remembered watching Draco get sorted, his baby-faced wonder as he sat on the stool with his legs crossed at the ankles. You had hoped, you had even prayed, that Draco would be sorted into Gryffindor. When that house was called out, though, the table of green erupted, and you watched your brother be swept off by your rivaling house.

George would never understand this, he would never see you as anything but a Malfoy, a pure-blood supremacist. You weren’t what your family was, you didn’t care about blood status, but no one cared.

Your anger seethed, watching George having fun, dancing with Angelina. Your grip on your cup tightened, and you wanted more than anything to go up to him and throw what was left of your drink into his face. You started over to him.

Fred intercepted you, having been watching you intently the whole night.

“You don’t want to do this,” Fred said, trying to calm you down as he blocked your path to his brother, “wait ‘till morning, then you can scream at him all you want.”

You could only shake your head, trying to move pasted Fred. You didn’t want to do this in the morning, you wanted to do this now, while the warm anger moved through your blood as fast as the whiskey did.

Fred’s hands gripped your upper arms, holding you in place.

“Let me go, Fred,” you mumbled, teeth gritted.

“I can’t, Y/n,” he said, searching for your eyes like he was begging you to look at him.

“He can’t always get away with it,” you whispered, feeling your anger turn into sadness. You had refused to cry about George or anything he said in your first year, but it seemed that now was your breaking point.

“He won’t, I promise,” Fred whispered back, trying to sound reassuring. He found it hard, his heart hurting at the sight of you so upset.

“He always does!” you exclaimed, your voice breaking. Your eyes were still dry, but the pounding in your chest felt like a heart attack.

“Well, he won’t this time,” Fred replied, bringing his face to yours so you had no choice but to look at him, “I’ll make sure of it.”

You met his eyes, and he saw the hopeful glint in them. He offered you a kind smile, his lips stretched across his face. You nodded at him, relaxing in his grasp. You didn’t try to move from it, and you didn’t want to. You felt safe in Fred’s arms.

“Oi!” George called from behind Fred.

Fred turned, putting you behind his back and himself between you and George. You pushed and pulled, trying to get in front of him and to George, but he was too strong.

“Fred, when are you going to get over this?” George asked his brother, downing the last of his dark drink.

“Shut up, George,” Fred warned, trying to push you and him away from George.

“I’ve told you a million times, mate,” George started, “Malfoys and Weasleys don’t belong together.”

Fred was on top of George in seconds. He was wrestling him to the ground and putting him in a headlock.

You put a hand over your mouth, watching as they fought. You replayed George’s words, “Malfoys and Weasleys don’t belong together”. Was this simple brotherly teasing, or did Fred have feelings for you?

Katie and Alicia found you in the crowd, and you hadn’t even realized what you were doing as they pulled you off of Fred and George. You had grabbed Fred’s shoulders, trying to pull him off his brother, but they thrashed against your grip.

Alicia and Katie were guiding you up the girl's dormitory stairs, pushing you towards the bathroom as your face became green with nausea. Katie held your hair, rubbing your back as you emptied your breakfast and what looked to be an entire bottle of firewhisky.

You groaned, moving to rest your back on the wall in front of the toilet. Katie flushed the vomit, closed the lid, and sat in front of you.

“Are you alright?” she asked, her kind voice inviting you to tell her all about your insecurities and worries.

Alicia came in right at the part of you feeling guilty for not being Slytherin, and Angelina stumbled into the dorms at your conclusion of what George said about Weasleys and Malfoys.

The girls consoled you, assuring you that you had every right to be in Gryffindor and that George was just a prick.

“What’d you think he meant by that?” Katie said, testing your reaction, in reference to what George said.

“I dunno,” you grumbled, moving yourself to lay down on the ground. Alicia moved, grabbing your shoulder and making you stay upright.

“Could it mean Fred,” Alicia spoke like a kindergarten teacher, and your drunken self giggled as she spoke, “likes you?”

You gasped, your head falling back to hit the wall.

“No way,” you mumbled, and when Katie started giggling next to you, you did too.

When Fred finally made his way up the girl's stairs, bypassing the detouring charms, he heard loud and manic giggles coming from your dorm. He opened the door but found the beds empty. The door to the bathroom was open, and the sound came from there.

“Hello?” he said, rasping his knuckles on the door frame.

The four girls on the ground, all looked up at him with bright smiles, all saying at the same time: “Fred!”

Fred’s eyes went to yours immediately. He smiled as his name fell from your drunken lips, admiring the twinkle in your silver eyes.

“Are you alright?” he asked, moving to crouch in front of you.

The other girls got the hint, and filed out of the bathroom, all mumbling something of good luck to you.

“Yeah,” you replied, still smiling.

Your eyes focused on his face, and you saw a nasty cut on his lip. It bled a little to the corner of his mouth and down his jaw, stopping just above his shirt collar.

Your smile dropped, and you brought a hand to his jaw, “Are you alright? You’re bleeding, Fred.”

He brought a hand to his lip, and when he pulled it away he saw blood. You pushed yourself to your feet, wobbling a little as you stood. You got a wad of toilet paper and wet it a little in the sink. You put your hands on Fred’s shoulders, telling him to be still.

He closed his eyes as you dragged the paper over his jaw and dabbed at his lip. Once you got the blood off, you got a dry piece of toilet paper and ran it back over his jaw again. He suppressed the groans he wanted to release, forcing his hands not to reach out and grab your waist. Once the trail of blood was gone, you used a finger to tilt his face up. You ran your fingers over where the blood had been, making sure you got it all. Fred’s mouth opened a little at the touch, and he sighed heavily. You let his face drop back to yours, and looked at him. His mouth still had some blood in the corner. You wet the pad of your thumb with your tongue and cupped Fred’s face. You brought your thumb to the corner of his mouth and swiped your finger across his lip. This time Fred wasn’t able to suppress the moan that came from his chest. Your hand still rested on his shoulder, and your hand still held his jaw.

“Did George do this?” you asked, fearful of his response.

“Must have,” Fred whispered back to you.

“I’m sorry,” you said, dropping your hands from Fred and turning your back to him, “I shouldn’t have gone over to him.”

“Hey,” Fred said, wrapping a hand on your waist and pulling you into him, “George deserved that. You should see the shiner I gave him.”

“I can’t let you fight your brother like that,” you whispered, putting a hand on his chest and feeling his beating heart, “you two don’t fight like that.”

“I don’t care. I’ll fight him every day until he gives you a chance,” Fred replied, bringing a hand from your waist to the back of your neck.

When he began to pull your face closer to his, you pulled back a little, still in his embrace.

“I can’t kiss you,” you said, a teasing smile on your face.

“Why not?” he pouted.

“I just threw up, it’s gross.”

Fred dug in his pocket for a second and pulled out a tin. It was one in the packaging of one of his products, but he assured you they had yet to be charmed to make people’s tongues swell.

“I don’t know,” you dragged, twisting the small mint in your fingers.

“Why would I prank you right now? You have no idea how much I want to kiss you,” he took the mint form your hand and put it in your mouth for you.

He was right, it was just a regular mint. The taste of vomit was gone, and after you chewed it, Fred barely wasted a second before he pulled you into him.

He kissed you hard, despite having a busted lip. When you ran your tongue over it, he winced, and you pulled back.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” you said, bringing your hand up to it and touching his lip. His hand grabbed yours, and he placed gentle kisses to each of your fingertips. His hand moved to your palm, to your wrist, and up your arm. His mouth ran over your shoulder, which he pulled your shirt back from, and up your neck. His lips finally connected with yours again, and you let out a pleased moan.

Fred pushed you against the counter of the sink, and you wrapped your hands in his hair. The feeling of nausea hit you very quickly, and you pulled away from Fred. You doubled over, trying to will yourself from throwing up.

“Oh god,” you started, and Fred rushed to your side, “I’m gonna throw up again.”

“What? Was it the mint? Are you alright?” Fred protested as you pushed him on his back out of the bathroom, closing the door and locking it behind him.

You threw open the toilet seat and emptied what was left in your stomach. Flushing, you closed the lid and sat on it. You pulled your wand from your waistband and unlocked the door. Fred came in hesitantly, and when he saw you were fine, he lifted you off the toilet by the hand.

“Come on,” he said, guiding you out of the dorm.

“I don’t wanna go back to the party,” you mumbled, pulling his arm closer to you as you held onto it.

“You’ve been up there for ages, the party’s long over,” Fred assured, pulling you down the stairs.

Cups littered the ground, and abandoned streamers hung from the ceiling. A banner Dean Thomas had made hung lopsided on one side of the room.

Fred pulled you to the couch, bringing a blanket over you.

“Do you want anything?” he asked, and you laughed at his nurturing actions.

You were about to say no, but the rumbling of your stomach convinced you otherwise. You had emptied everything you had eaten, and you were hungry.

Fred snuck to the kitchens easily, making the same trek he made nearly every other night. He brought you back some sandwiches, but when he slipped through the portrait hole, he found you asleep on the couch.

Your breathing was even, and your mouth hung open a little. You curled into the couch, tucking your legs up to your chest.

He put the sandwiches on the table next to you and moved your body to the left. He curled up next to you, pulling the blanket over the both of you. He spooned you, tucking his face into the crook of your neck. He wrapped his arm around your waist, and your hand found his under the blanket.

For the first time, you felt at home in the Gryffindor common room.

[whorefordazai]

Hey bae! Just wanted to request headcanons of Chuuya with a fem s/o that's like really tomboyish (Hates dresses, aggressive, cusses way too much for her own good, got into fights alot growing up, wears boy clothes) I looked up to my brother alot growing up and ended up taking alot of his,,er,,habits lol ofc if you're busy you can put this req off<33 anyways goodbye and take care of yourself

Thanks for requesting! I LOVE THIS IDEA SO MUCH JDJESK. Take care of yourself too shawty💗

Chuuya with a fem! tomboy s/o

genre: fluff

warnings: mentions of sex.

You immediately attracted Chuuya’s attention.

It wasn’t even sexual at first; he just kinda stared at you wide eyed because you had just picked a fight with a few guys.

And you had won😝

Watching you throw strong punches at the guys stomach while he groaned in pain...Chuuya tried to stop himself from clapping and cheering you on😳

You two would unironically start to hang out. It was never planned, you two just saw each other at the most convenient times.

When he first realized he was attracted to you, he’d be like “Why ? How? What was the reason? What have I gotten myself into ಠ_ಠ”

He was well refined, a man with exquisite taste in clothing, was a fucking Port Mafia executive, and yet...he hung out with you.

Don’t get me wrong, you’re absolutely badass and hot asf. It’s just that...it was unexpected??

Despite being opposites on the outside, you two could bond over one thing:

Your temper.

No cuz literally, if you got yourself in a fight, Chuuya would try to get you out of it but somehow end up fighting alongside you😭

Y’all would win, obviously🙄🤝

He doesn’t care if you cuss a lot. It kinda turns him on😳

Both of you are hot headed and stubborn-getting through arguments is going to be a little difficult unless one of you is willing to compromise and apologize first👩‍🦯

Getting drunk together is a daily routine.

Except he’s a lightweight and you’re an angry drunk? Actually, it’s a mix between cussing, crying, and laughing you’re ass off. Hence, taking up a whole new personality.

I can just imagine the two of you walking out of a bar at 3am. Chuuya’s arm slung over you’re shoulder as you both try to help each other stand.

Both of you are cussing profusely, sometimes crying between, and forgetting where your apartment is.

Well, ofc you were going to be kicked out of the bar. You started fights with old drunk men😁🤝 (good job that’s hot)

It doesn’t bother Chuuya that you wear mainly boys clothes. In fact, I headcannon Chuuya to have really good taste in clothing and that he sometimes designs his own.

He makes you model his clothes.

“Y/n...babe...try this on for me ◕ ◡ ◕”

He’d literally have that look in his eyes.

You particularly didn’t mind because at least they weren’t dresses. He made you try on clothes that he would wear.

I can imagine you standing on a step stool in like a suit and vest, while he’s zooming around you. Sewing buttons, rearranging patterns😭

Can I just say, angry sex (• ε •)

Like I said before, both of you are too stubborn for you’re own good so sometimes compromise doesn’t happen.

Can’t compromise? Just have anger sex.

He’ll be more dominant and aggressive than normal😳

But just because you’re both stubborn, doesn’t mean he won’t apologize or feel bad.

You mean so much to him. He wouldn’t know what to do without you.

Chuuya definitely has abandonement issues so the thought of losing you over some petty fight :(

The both of you understand each other a lot. No one would’ve expected that you two would be a couple!

After all, you’re like the girl version of Tachihara.

Whenever someone would ask if you’re really dating the both of you would be like

“Yeah, she’s my girlfriend. What about it?”

“Yeah, we’re dating. Got a problem?”

Can I just add that you, Gin, and Higuchi have a weekly girls drinking night together.

I loved this idea so much that I started working on it during class so sorry if it seems half assed😣

[scatterpatter]

"Where's the essay OP" Said no one, and yet here I am

Lampy isn't stupid, he's neruodivergent: a rushed-together masterpost

Disclaimer: I'm not a liscened medical professional but I'm neurodivergent who's close to many neurodivergent people so I know when certain traits strike me as very familiar... Also tblt is my comfort movie I've seen it probably over 100 times, not exaggerating, so if anyone here's an expert on it, it's me.

I'm only going by the first movie because while To The Rescue and Goes To Mars probably have evidence to back me up, I don't feel like sitting down to watch them as I don't have them as memorized as the original

Point #1: Lampy is arguably the most intelligent appliance in the movie

Honestly it apalls me that so many are convinced that Lampy is an idiot when he displays some of the most intelligent traits in the movie. I'll just list off some of the most important scenes that show this

1: When discussing a way to get to the city, Lampy comes up with plans that end up failing, true. But we should also consider that not only did Radio and Toaster come up with bad plans before deciding on the swivel chair, but 2/3 of Lampy's ideas involved the same mechanic: on something with wheels(yes the mattress had wheels for some reason) being powered by Kirby

2: "From here you can see the really big lamp!" This scene is simply due to the appliances being sheltered from the outside world. Lampy displays the same level of naive-ness as everyone else: Radio seems earnest in calling the sun a "really big lamp", and Kirby calls the grass "shag carpet". Lampy is not at a lower intelligence in this scene, he's exactly at the same level as everyone else

3: The scene with the storm really sells his intelligence. The appliances have a rudimentary understanding of electricity, most likely from being appliances, but Lampy displays an excelled level of understanding by sacrificing himself for the battery. He understands that batteries are powered by electricity, lightning is electricity, and by using himself as a lightning rod, he acts as the conductive metal to easily transfer this energy from the bolt to the battery. Technically this should have overcharged and fried the battery but we'll suspend disbelief for the sake of this movie.

4: He knew that stacking the appliances to roughly human height, creating a dark environment with ominous sounds, and putting Toaster at eye-level to scare the human with his own reflection... Again, this is an intelligent understanding of how to scare a human

5: It's unclear on whose idea it was to look up Rob in a phone book, however this shows that not only can Lampy read(most likely picked up from being Rob's reading light), ESPECIALLY when Toaster struggles to read, but also has an understanding of phone books, addresses, and finding humans based on family names. I cannot stress how intelligent this is for a sentient desk lamp

There's a few more minor examples, but these are the biggest cases. Lampy is intelligent.

Point #2: Lampy struggles with social cues and doesn't empathize as easily as others

My biggest point here is when people think neruodivergents are "dumb" for having trouble picking up on things like sarcasm when that just... isn't the case. A few notable examples include:

1: When Air Conditioner says "You're a real bright little lamp", Lampy doesn't pick up the sarcasm and thinks he's being complimented. Though he definitely shows a level of emotional intelligence because he looks to Toaster to confirm "hey I was complimented", sees they're still looking angry, and gets the hint that he was insulted without someone needing to explicitly tell him that, to which he then responds with "Heyyy >:("

2: Sometimes he's able to read the room and pick up on tones, but other times he shows a level of emotional density. Legitimately not knowing if Rob had returned even when seeing Blanky disappointed to the point of near tears... But then knowing "brains wouldnt hurt either" was a jab at their intelligence and reacting with appropriate annoyance... But also when Radio says "Things could be worse!", doesn't realize he's just saying that to make Toaster feel better and asks "How could they be worse?"

3: He bullies Blanky alongside Radio and the others, unclear if he's actually being a jerk or just "oh this is what everyone else is doing so this is the normal way to act", but he's legitimately confused when Toaster tries to explain why they're suddenly being nice to him. He doesn't get the "now I feel better" argument because his argument was "Well you were never this nice to him before". Even when Toaster tries to explain why it feels nice, it just doesn't click... until Toaster finds a way to explain that connects personally to Lampy's own emotional state. He has trouble empathizing until realizing "oh this is like this thing that I feel sometimes"

4: Something I've noticed when gathering evidence is that more than once, Lampy goes "Wow..." After someone gloats about themself(Twice with Radio, once with the Computer). It's clear by the third time, when Radio goes "What does that mean?" And Lampy responds "I don't know. [To Computer] What does that mean?" That he doesn't even know what's being gloated about, let alone why he should be impressed. He has the emotional intelligence to recognize when someone's gloating and the "appropriate" response of amazement, but it seems like it never comes from a place of earnest. (While Neurotypicals can and do engage in "performative" behavior, I tend to notice this way more commonly with neurodivergents)

Also the "wow..." Performative thing is VERY reminiscent of Peridot from Steven Universe(a characters who many autistic fans see themselves in and the creator herself saying she doesn't consider Peridot or any of the gems to be neurotypical) going "wow thanks" as her default "this is how I've been taught to show gratitude" response

Point #3: Miscellaneous traits that could be neurodivergent

These traits COULD be interpreted as neurodivergent, but I will admit they could also be interpreted as something else so like take these with a grain of salt

1: Lampy appears to have sensory needs. When sleeping, he needs to tap a rock a few times(presumably to make sure it's "right") before clonking his head on it. It's interesting because rocks aren't a very "lamp" thing whatsoever, and none of the other appliances look for pillow-ish objects to rest on, so this could be a sensory thing.

2: Lampy has an interesting vocal quirk: repetition of phrases at the beginning and end of a sentence. Instances include "How exactly do you propose we do that, exactly?" "All of a sudden you're being so darn nice to him all of a sudden" "The fact is there's just not enough facts" The third one is a bit of a stretch but the first two seem to indicate a possible pattern of speech. Part of me wants to say this could be a verbal tic or some type of verbal stimming, but I've never met anyone who has a tic or stim like this so I can't say it's a neurodivergent thing with confidence, but I wanted to mention this quirk regardless.

3: Physically saying how he feels. Two instances where multiple characters are laughing, Lampy speaks while laughing "That's funny - I'm dying!" "I'm aching with joy!". It's just interesting that no one else speaks while laughing and for whatever reason, Lampy needs to verbalize "Yes I find this very funny" as if simply laughing along isn't enough. I've seen somewhat similar stuff in neurodivergents who have issues expressing emotions implicitly so they state them explicitly instead.

4: I've noticed Lampy isn't touchy... except with Radio. Some neurodivergent people can have issues with physical contact, which could explain that. But I've also noticed that Radio also gives me huge neurodivergent vibes... But more importantly Radio is extremely touchy with everyone, Lampy included, hence them often getting into physical fights but also just- tapping them or wrapping a cord around the other and pulling him close(they're so in love but that's a post on its own). A possible explanation is Lampy having issues with touching others, but either feels comfortable being touchy with Radio(due to emotional bonds and trust) or simply recognizes "Radio likes being touchy so I should be touchy back". A stretch of an argument, I'll admit, but I think the interpretation is there and valid.

In conclusion

I mean idk if Lampy was written to be neurodivergent or if the writers just wanted him to be "quirky" and accidentally gave him a lot of neurodivergent traits, but he reads as very neurodivergent to me(probably autistic or adhd but I'm not a professional and can't diagnose him). But while I can chalk up neruodivergency being one of many possible interpretations of his character, I WILL argue that he's not "stupid" given the evidence we see throughout the movie

Tl;Dr: Lampy is evidently intelligent, but sometimes struggles with social cues, empathy, and overall shows numerous traits of neurodivergency

[bcdwhcre]

“Free,” Bakugou x Kirishima x Reader

Plsss I saw this on Tik Tok and I had to try it out and see what happens.

Summary: just a bit of love triangle and going to a high school party with the both of them.

Warnings: none except underage drinking/drug usage.

Bakugou x Kirishima x Fem!Reader

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It had been a long week of finals and today was the last day of exams and school. The summer wasn’t going to be long but the students had a good few weeks before going through summer school and training as much as possible.

During the whole week you had been avoiding Bakugou and Kirishima after they both had admitted their feelings for you and even brought up a three way relationship.

It had felt wrong during that moment, thinking about dating the both of them but the more you had thought about it- the more it started to settle in your mind that maybe it wouldn’t be so bad.

You still kept your distance, feeling completely nervous and awkward when it came to the both of them. But as the day started to get dark on that Friday night, you got a text from Bakugou to come to the high school party that everyone was going to, wanting to celebrate after exams and have fun.

You definitely didn’t want to decline a party, especially after the week you had but the nerves of running into the both of them had settled in your head again. You didn’t want things to be weird but you also didn’t want to admit the fact that you liked the both of them too.

You didn’t even bother to reply back to him, instead you had gotten ready and asked Ashido and Denki if you could ride with them because you didn’t want to just show up alone, that was like asking to get walked up to by not only the two guys you were avoiding but even more dudes trying to hit on you.

Time had passed, you three had finally got to the giant mansion that beamed with strobe lights and blaring music. People were outside, they were flooded inside and drinks and smoke was everywhere.

“Ease up, we’re finally free!” Ashido had grabbed your arm, practically dragging you inside and you gulp down the lump in your throat as Denki quickly grabbed drinks and was handing them to the both of you.

It went like that for over an hour, Denki passing drinks over to the two of you and you both drinking them. All while you were relieved to not have seen Bakugou or Kirishima but little did you know that one of them was watching you from the distance.

Bakugou had watched you drink, grunting under his breath as his irritation grew. He didn’t like being ignored or avoided, especially when you were the first and only person he’s openly admitted feelings for. He felt humiliated but he also couldn’t shake you off his mind.

“Hey, did Y/N end up coming?” Kirishima shouted over the music, his hand on his best friends shoulder and suddenly both their eyes had landed on you as you danced with Ashido in the middle of the giant crowd.

“Oh? Guess she’s having fun without us.” He said again, the blonde boy beside him sparking an idea inside of his head and started to smirk.

You felt the tension ease up in your body, the paranoia leaving your mind and the stress you’ve encountered for days had disappeared. You finally felt free enough to do what you want and not have to deal with school in the morning or deal with it for a few weeks.

Ashido had held onto your hands, jumping and dancing with you while Denki was completely zooted off his mind beside you both. He was too high to dance but sober enough to know not to leave you both alone unless you two were comfortable enough.

“C’mon, Rocky.” Bakugou gestured, walking towards the staircase and finished the rest of his drink.

All the sweaty bodies around you dancing, the sweat gathering up on your forehead and your eyes falling shut as you mouth the lyrics to the songs that were playing until an older song had came on, one you haven’t heard in years.

Hey baby girl what you doin' tonight

Your eyes had opened up, Ashido screaming and letting go of your hands as she started to dance, making a laugh erupt from your throat at the sight of just how drunk she was while Denki stood there swaying just a little.

You had went back to dancing, your eyes falling shut again and your fingers combing through your hair to brush it back from your face, feeling hot but it was manageable- you didn’t want to ruin the fun and leave because it was a little hot.

I wanna see what you got in store

Your mouth parted open, a sigh of content leaving your lips and moving to the song as you sang some of the lyrics but suddenly a pair of hands had startled you, feeling them sit secured on your hips. Your eyes shot open, your eyes meeting with Bakugou’s first as he hovered over your body.

You tried to step back but your back hit someone’s chest, Kirishima standing behind you with his hands on your hips and suddenly the swarm of butterflies had filled your stomach up, the tension growing thick in seconds.

“C’mon, I wanna see if you give me some more.” Bakugou had said some of the lyrics, the both of them towering over your small frame.

Everything was suddenly slow motion, you completely forgot about the people dancing around you but it wasn’t like they were paying attention to the three of you. Everyone was drunk, including you. Bakugou’s face had inched closer, his hand grabbing your chin while Kirishima had danced behind you and held you close to his body.

A gasp had left your lips, your eyes flickering between his red eyes and his lips. You felt lightheaded like you were floating on clouds. You also had convinced yourself you were having some kinky dream of a threesome and it had made your stomach do continuous flips.

But the touch of Bakugou’s lips on yours had snapped you back into reality, the pounding bass making the ground beneath you shake and make your ears ring. You went from trying to avoid the two boys to being sandwiched by them all while making out with the angry blonde.

He pulled back, the cocky smirk on his lips had made your knees weak and you leaned your head back on Kirishima’s shoulder, the buzz you felt inside of your body had made you start swaying your hips and dancing between the both of them.

His hands had tightened on your hips and Bakugou’s body had gotten closer, making your hand press against his chest as you tried to breathe properly but nothing was working, you couldn’t even catch your breath in this hot room between two hot guys, it was nearly impossible to not breathe uneven.

Kirishima had dipped his head down, his lips curving in a smile as he had stayed just beside your ear, all of this being just as thrilling for the both of them like it was for you.

“hey baby, you can be my girl I can be your man.” The lyrics slipped off his tongue with ease, almost like he was mumbling them in your ear but clear enough for you to hear it.

Your heart started to pound inside of your chest, watching Bakugou drink the alcohol from his cup and reached over to wrap his rough hand around your throat firmly.

Your head was still back on Kirishima’s shoulder so Bakugou took the oppporunity to tilt your chin so your mouth was open and start pouring the alcohol into your mouth from his cup, a smirk on both of their faces as you swallowed the harsh liquid- your throat feeling like it was on fire.

Kirishima’s lips had peppered kisses on the side of your neck, making you grow weak and feel like your heart was going to pound out of your chest. You were starting to get a little too excited, a little too needy for the both of them.

All of this to feed onto their egos, their desires and wants. They both wanted you, they both needed you in ways they couldn’t explain and even though they were both best friends, they dug deep into that conversation on sharing you.

Bakugou wasn’t on board with it at first, he was very selfish and it led to a heated argument between him and his best friend but as they talked it out, they both agreed that maybe a three way relationship wouldn’t be the end of the world.

Kirishima thought it would be cool, he would have his best friend but also have you at the same time, it was instantly something that sparked his interest and it soon turned into a obsession of wanting this to work desperately- they both just needed you.

And the way his lips had worked on your neck while Bakugou kept eye contact with you, his rough fingertips tracing along your cheek before caressing it and leaning down to hover over your lips again.

Fuck, they knew exactly what they were doing to you. They were pulling you in, trapping you in the middle- literally and this just ached your whole body in the best way possible.

His lips had brushed over yours slowly, the stupid smirk coming across his face again as his eyes stared on yours, searching through them like he was trying to read your mind but he knew just by the way your body was limp and the way your fingers had tangled in his hair, you were enjoying this just as much as they were.

“Yeah don't stop it, I want you tonight.” Bakugou had mumbled the last set of lyrics against your lips as the song came to an end, another one instantly taking its place but you were still lost in a trance with the last one.

They both had stepped away to give you some room, making you sit there and fully grasp on what just happened. Your head was still fuzzy but the way you felt during that entire song, that stupid three minute song- it was something you wanted to experience over and over again.

The three of you were quiet as the next song blasted through the speakers and suddenly you grabbed both of their hands, dragging them out of the front door and down the sidewalk, the eagerness of wanting to be alone with the both of them had replayed in your mind making Bakugou notice quite quickly- before Kirishima could.

“Where are we going, teddy bear? Leaving the party so soon?” He chuckled, practically teasing you and your eyes shot up to look at his.

“Shut up, you both did that on purpose.”

“Did we? I was just trying to have some fun.” Kirishima jumped into the conversation, his arm wrapping around your shoulders and pulling you into his body.

“We weren’t kidding about us three.” He spoke again, mumbling under his breath and your eyes had moved to meet with his, a lump forming in your throat.

“You’ve been avoiding us after we brought it up.” Bakugou said, his feet stepping down on the sidewalk while his hands were shoved in his pockets.

“I mean, I was scared. I never... experienced something like this before, what if I mess up?” You blurted out, your drunk actions making you spill too much of your feelings out for both of them.

“Stop overthinking it..”

“Let’s talk about this after we get back to my place and continue what we were doing.” Bakugou cut Kirishima off, not wanting to continue the conversation- especially since the night was still young and he had too many plans for the both of you.

It wasn’t long until you were inside of his house- up in his room with the both of them. As much as you were excited- you were also extremely nervous. This was all new to you, everything but the way you felt about both the guys standing in front of you had eased the nerves up just a bit.

You sucked in a sharp breath, looking up at the both of them and Bakugou was always the first one to make the move. His hand wrapping around your throat again gently and his lips had crashed onto yours, making you melt into him in seconds.

“We’ll show you exactly how good this relationship would be.”

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Pls I’m ?????? IDK ??? I’m getting butterflies from my own writing but ????

• Main Masterlist •

• MHA Masterlist •

[interstellarflare]

Bend and Break || Homelander

-PART FOUR-

Warnings: Gore, violence, course language, angst.

Summary: People can only bend their morales so far before they break. Homelander is the world’s greatest superhero, and you, a tech analyst, somehow become entangled in his world when he learns that you provide intel to The Boys. He makes it his personal mission to find out exactly what you know, but he never expected such resistance from someone as damaged as you. But broken things can be mended, sometimes in the most unexpected ways possible.

Author’s Note: As a bit of a disclaimer, I have only seen snippets of The Boys. I haven’t actually watched all of it, so forgive me if there are some details that are wrong, as well as the many spelling errors that will undoubtedly be in this series. There is a tag list open for those who wish to be added. I apologise for the long chapters. Gif by @itisa-profoundbond-sarandom

|PART ONE| |PART TWO| |PART THREE|

“Where do you think you’re going?” You asked angrily, as you followed Homelander up the large staircase of your apartment complex and onto the roof. He hovered a few metres away from the edge, whilst you stood as close to the edge of the roof as you could. Homelander turned to face you, his hair gently rustling in the wind. “I’m going to confront Stillwell. I want answers, and she is going to give them to me”.

“We need to be smart about this...” You persisted throwing you arms out in annoyance “if you go charging in there all high and mighty and demand answers, she’s going to know that something is wrong. We need to do this discreetly, otherwise you’re going to fuck this up for everyone”.

“Excuse me?” Homelander growled, flying down so that he was hovering just away from the edge “I’m the Homelander. And I can do whatever the fuck I want. Nothing goes on at Vought without me knowing about it. You have no powers, you’re not special, no one would give a damn if something happened to you. So what makes you think you can help me?” he asked angrily, his eyes once again beginning to glow a dangerous red. You didn’t know why his words hurt so much, you didn’t understand why your chest tightened painfully. But you stood tall, clenching your hands into fists as you shouted “I don’t care who the fuck you are! What I care about is doing this right. If you go to Stillwell and demand answers, there’s a likely chance you will put The Seven in danger, and likely anyone else involved. I might not have powers, but at least one of us has to have some common fucking sense!”.

When no response came from The World’s Greatest Hero, you scoffed shrugging your shoulders as you stepped away from the edge of the roof “Then again, what do I know. I’m not special. But if I hadn’t hacked into your servers, you wouldn’t have known about this, and you would have been covering Vought’s arse for all the wrong reasons, not that you don’t do that anyway”. You turned on your heel and headed back towards the door, hugging your arms close to your body as you suddenly felt cold. You shivered, reaching out to grasp the door handle as a firm hand was placed on your shoulder. Homelander spun you around, glaring down at your form with his eyebrows furrowed as he stepped closer to you. “What makes you think I don’t have any common sense?” he asked loudly, throwing his arms out in exasperation as he waited for your response. As you forcefully pushed him away from you, you ignored how surprised you were to see him stumble. He never stumbled. Then again, he didn’t let just anyone punch him either. Rolling your eyes, you scoffed loudly and stepped toward him “Classic Homelander tactic, you always rush in first. You act without thinking it through. You think that just because you are ‘The World’s Greatest Superhero’, that everyone will automatically grovel at your feet and beg for mercy!...” you shouted, your voice breaking as your tone became angrier “well guess what, even superheroes get screwed over. That’s just how the world works. And you’re angry. You’re angry because you got played-”

“Just shut up!” Homelander cried, his eyes glowing a menacing red before firing one large beam directly beside where you were standing. You shrieked, falling over onto your backside with a fearful gasp. The gravel atop the roof smouldered, grey smoke rising into the air in a steady pillar. That was it, this was the last straw. You quickly stood to your feet, rage surging through your blood as you shouted so loud, that you were certain that the entire neighbourhood could hear you. “Fine! If you want to go and fuck things up for yourself, then by all means go ahead. I’m not going to stop you! But you don’t get to come back to me and beg for my help when things go wrong. I’ve dealt with enough of this shit to last me a lifetime, and I don’t need more of it. Especially, not from someone like you!”. With one final glare, you stormed off the roof, slamming the door to the stairwell behind you hard enough that the sound echoed throughout the entire building. The walk to your apartment became a blur, so much so that you don’t even remember walking through the door, or hearing Max’s pestering questions about where Homelander had gone.

Instead, you stormed straight to your bedroom, closing the door behind you with a harsh bang before leaning back against it. You buried your head in your hands, collapsing to the floor as you brought your knees up to your chest. And for all the wrong reasons, you cried. You cried, because the fucking bastard didn’t care about anyone else but himself. You cried, because he couldn’t see what he was doing to the people around him. What he was doing to you. A small part of you still wanted to believe that there was still some good in him, after he had saved your life from a car accident all those years ago. The accident had happened just before Max had been born. You were on your way to the hospital to meet Michael when your car collided with that of an intoxicated driver. You car flipped several times, trapping you inside the wreckage upside down as it caught fire. You still wonder what had possessed him to save your life that night, what made him decide that you were worth saving? How could someone with such extraordinary gifts, abuse them in such a way?

You sighed heavily, wiping the tears from your face as your wrapped your arms around your form, giving yourself what little comfort you could. Unknown to you, or anyone within the apartment complex, Homelander had never left. He could hear your faint sobs through the layered walls, your heartfelt cries and awkward sniffles as you tried so desperately to assure your nephew that you were fine. He could see you hiding in your bedroom, alone and hurting. And a small part of him felt guilty for causing you to feel this way. But he couldn’t talk to you, not now. He needed answers, and he would get them by whatever means necessary. But your words stuck with him the entire flight back to Vought International, ‘We need to be smart about this...at least one of us has to have some common fucking sense’.

Maybe you were right. Maybe you weren’t. But he would never know now, as he instead changed his direction and flew about the city, trying to clear his head of tonights events.

Two weeks. It had been two weeks since your argument with Homelander, and nothing had changed.

It had been quiet for the most part, except for when Max stopped by every afternoon after school as your apartment was within walking distance. More often than not, Black Noir stopped by as well. He often sat outside on the fire escape, perched either reading a book or casually watching you as you went about your daily activities. So at some point, and you’re still unsure as to why, but you invited him inside.

You started to leave your window unlocked again for whenever he came by, and he didn’t talk much. Which surprisingly made him a very good listener. He listened to your every word with some sort of interest, and it felt good to have another adult around, one that actually listened to you and didn’t argue. In those two weeks, you managed to get a new phone, a new number, and managed to establish all your old contacts again. Butcher was the only one you couldn’t make contact with. He hadn’t stopped by your apartment either, which left you a little disheartened. You figured that the CIA considered you a loose end, and that Homelander had or would likely kill you when he was done with you. An unpleasant shiver ran down your spine at the thought.

You sat at the dining room table, trying to weave your way through Vought’s servers for a second time. But you hadn’t expected such resistance. They had definitely upgraded their technology, their firewalls were practically impenetrable. You cursed under your breath, slamming your hands against the table’s surface out of frustration. Noir looked up from the book he was reading on your couch, his head tilting to the side out of confusion and questioning. You groaned, running a stressed hand through your hair “When did Vought upgrade their servers?” You asked him, not really expecting a helpful answer from him at all. When Noir shrugged and returned his gaze back to his book, you poked your tongue out childishly in his direction. “Thanks a lot, arsehole” You grumbled, rolling your eyes as he gave you a sarcastic thumbs up. Before you could respond with a disrespectful quip, there was a loud knock at the door.

Again, you groan, muttering a few jumbled incoherent phrases under your breath as you approached. You swung the door open without thinking, and almost choked on air when you eyes landed on the person on the other side. Homelander stood with his eyes downcast, his hues a darker and sadder shade of blue than they usually were. His right arm leaned against the doorframe, his usually combed back fair hair in slight disarray. You looked him up and down, swallowing thickly as a heavy silence filled the hallway. You cleared your throat, folding your arms over your chest as you opened your mouth to speak.

“I want to try it your way...” Homelander suddenly spoke, his voice low and devoid of his usual sarcastic and pompous tone. Your eyes widened as you were taken aback by his sudden sincereness. You bit your bottom lip, raising an eyebrow in challenge “Did demanding answers not do it for you?-”

“I didn’t...ask Stillwell about Project Cerberus...” He snapped bitterly, gritting his teeth as he lifted his eyes to meet your own. You nodded slowly, hating the way you so easily gave in and stepped aside, allowing the man before you to step into your apartment. But before he could walk past you, you reach out and grabbed his upper arm with your hand, looking up at the Supe from the corner of your eye. “Yell at me like you did two weeks ago again, and I’m done. Understand?” You spoke seriously, your grip tightening around his bicep as a silent promise. Homelander nodded wordlessly, and you released him from your hold. You closed the door to your apartment and headed back towards the living room, where Homelander nodded a curt greeting to the other Supe sitting on the couch. “Just out of curiosity, is there something else I can call you other than Homelander? Otherwise I’m just going to call you prick or arsehole” you stated blatantly, smirking tauntingly as the man before you turned to face your figure with a stern and harsh expression. With his eyes narrowed and his nostrils flaring in anger, you held your hands up in defence “Okay then, baby steps...baby steps”.

Your eyes widened in shock as Noir released a huff sounding close enough to a laugh. After making eye contact with Homelander out of bewilderment, and after seeing that he wore a similar expression, you shook your head. After deciding that Noir possibly laughing wasn’t as weird as having two of The Seven currently situated in you apartment, you motioned Homelander over to your laptop, where the two of you set about breaking into Vought’s servers.

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