#(these normally are the exact words after which all the hell breaks lose but I think Traveler is allowed to say them)
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thormanick · 5 months ago
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Also with ALL due respect to the Twins and outside of any context,
I feel like Traveler is a bit overdue on reminding the Abyss Sibling that they are, in fact, family. Just to get some sense into them.
Just a bit.
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v3nusxsky · 1 year ago
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Can you do a, Wandanat X Agere fem reader?
Maybe reader djdnt want to regress, due to the amount of missions they were getting, and she accidently messes up in a mission and Fury yells at her for it, and she regressed in her room later that night, and Wanda and Natasha find her? And reader has thus toy dog she loses snd they have to find it to calm her down?? Fluff after that.
Agere, fluff, hurt, and comfort. I believe that's what you requested.
If not, no problem, I love all your writing!!!
Sorry if it's really specific, I'm nervous when it comes to requesting
Sun,moon and stars
*Authors note~ long time no see guys! I've missed posting. Been a little scared to start back up bc of the hate and my accident really threw me for a while but here we go. Thanks to the support of my friends and my lovely girlfriend @just-your-casual-nerd I’m going to be starting with Agere for the pure reason it's less taxing on my body and brain. Smut angst etc will come when I'm a little better*
Trigger warnings~ regression little r mama and momma wandanat loss of comfort item angry fury? Sight angry Nat?
Prompt~see ask^^^^^
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The past few weeks had really been insane for you, you were either on missions or filling out the paperwork from your previous missions. You'd hardly seen your girlfriends due to this, which meant the idea of allowing yourself to regress was definitely out the window. You couldn't afford to mess up the missions, exposing your secret to the team. A lot of the time it was truly hard to admit you coped this way, but Wanda and Nat seemed to love helping you through it. Not everyone is accepting of it though, you learnt that very early on in your life. Perhaps that's why you felt the need to hide.
After a recent mission with Steve, Tony and Peter you were all on the way back to the compound when Steve told you. Fury wanted to see you immediately upon landing. You instantly knew why, your gaze flickering over to Peter who was cradling his arm. It was an accident really, you didn't mean to. Your brain blanking at the wrong time allowing one of the Hydra guards to twist Peters arm painfully. His cries of pain clearing the fog that littered your brain when you needed to slip. You'd apologised time and time again to Peter and he reassured you he wasn't mad. But no matter how much he said it you knew you'd messed up. The reason he would be taken to med bay was because you weren't strong enough to stay big. Guilt eating away at you, you weren't sure how much worse Fury could make you feel.
Apparently it could get worse, the guilt eating away at you as Fury laid into you about how reckless you were, your behaviour resulting in Peters injuries meant you were suspended from the field. His exact wording was something like "till we can figure out how to fix you!" You did your best to stay silent and remain strong, crying was not something you wished to do in front of him. You don't need fixing just a break really but you knew better than to respond like that, instead opting to flee his office and head to the safety of your shared room before breaking down.
You'd missed dinner, that was why Wanda and Natasha began searching for you. They knew the mission didn't go as well as wanted so they figured you'd want space to process like normal, but you never missed dinner. You love wanda's cooking too much for that. After checking your usual spots, they headed to your room. There you were curled up with dried tear strains on your cheeks, the room around you trashed to high hell. Clearly, you were looking for something but what would you be looking for badly enough to do this? "Nat, she's" Wanda trailed off as your thoughts were loud, "Little." Now everything made so much sense. You were looking for Pup Pup.
You must have regressed alone and being unable to find your beloved pup pup, you'd cried yourself to sleep. It was truly heartbreaking to see, as your caregivers, you hadn't found one of them and were alone in such a vulnerable mind set. Your whimpers as tears began to fall again worried Wanda enough to check on your dream. Only where she would witness you reliving how Fury shouted at you, saying you needed to be fixed. Your whole body shook with the second hand fear from the dream. Both girls knew you didn't like being shouted at or anything that was loud.
"Nat, Fury, he ripped into her about Peter" Wanda whispered before going to kneel next to your body. Her hand finding your cheeks as she brushed your tears away mumbling words of comfort, "it's okay dekta (baby) momma is here." The red head assassin gave Wanda a quick nod before exiting to find Fury. She wasn't having you being treated like this when they'd been overworking you and in general ignoring your own well-being. This wouldn't ever happen again because Natasha would make sure of it.
"Momma?" You sleepily sobbed before throwing yourself into her awaiting arms, "founds me!" You cried causing her heart to shatter slightly. "That's right my darling. I have you now. Why are we sad love bug?" It was adorable how your brows joined and you scrunched your nose up in thought, "Pup Pup gones!" You gasped as if you'd only just realised that Pup Pup was missing now. You appeared to be regressed a lot smaller than you normally would. The girls were use to you regressing to about five years old, but based of this interaction Wanda guessed you were about two to three years old. "We will find your Pup Pup bug."
"Mama!" You pouted noticing her absence. "Shh love bug mana is just finishing up with work and she'll be here, how bout you and momma go on a hunt for Pup Pup?" Wandas soothing tone and her redirection to your beloved Pup Pup. Hand in hand you and Wanda set out to find the ragged looking stuffie that you'd had since you were found by Hydra. The only thing they'd let you keep at a price and you cherished it. It didn't take long for your little brain to become overwhelmed and frustrated at your inability to find the stuffie.
"Momma! No finds! Gones! Want mama! I sorry I be good give Pup Pup me now?" You sobbed clumsily clinging to her as you cried for you two lost loves. "You are good my love bug, so so good. We are gonna find your Pup Pup I promise." She hushed you as the bedroom door opened and a very satisfied Natasha came into the room. "м��я маленькая прин��есса (my little princess) look who mama found малыш (baby)" her sing song voice caught your attention as you knew it was only for you. "Pup Pup!!" You cried happily coming to hold the stuffie, "frank you mama!"
"You're so welcome дорогой (darling), shall we all go get a snack baby?" You nodded enthusiastically until you remembered Fury's words, "Nahuh mama" you mumbled sadly, "I'm bad, no eat when bad." This time both women came to your side and showered you with reassurance and love that you were not bad. And Peter wasn't mad at you. Fury was in the wrong to go off at you like that and you were safe with them. They wouldn't let any harm come yo you. In fact you could eat in the bedroom cuddled up together. They just wanted to care for you, so you eventually relented, your little brain not holding much room to fight so you happily settled into bed snuggling up to Natasha's chest while you waited for Wanda to return with food. Before Wanda could even return you'd passed out on Nat, Natasha looking at you with such a loving gaze Wanda felt truly too blessed to be witnessing it. Truly you deserved the sun, moon and the stars, and both women wanted to give you all that and more.
Word count~ 1354
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zexonyte · 7 months ago
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alright folks
i found this buried somewhere in my notes app and im 87% sure i wrote it bored out of my mind during english class. so have some crudely written 2000 or so words of Starman Headcanons (somewhat) (1/3)
metallic shell, organic insides (mostly)
some sort of affinity for magnetic fields. maybe how some grow spikes? like a long time exposure to strong magnetic fields makes them grow spikes. i can see it
born without their shell, forming it throughout childhood. it's the part that regenerates the fastest, but wounds or shell damage is still highly dangerous because it may make it grow in undesirable spots, such as inside your body, and the boosted growth endangers you even more. kinda like those boars with tusks that can pierce their own skull. and corals
speaking of corals. that's how they form the shell. just as giegue's species, starmen come from an aquatic planet with a shit ton of metallic matter suspended on it? is that the word? whatever its like ferrous water. they use it to build the shells like corals do. underneath it they bear resemblance to giegue's species if they were like tailless and earless and all
oh yeah both of those share a common ancestor. yea they're from the same planet. yea that strange camaraderie is part of why giegue's species allow the starmen to use PSI. ill get back to this later maybe
also giegue's species is a mouthful so im gonna call them gamers now
starmen reproduce mainly asexually through fragmentation. like starfish. why? i said so.
do they reproduce sexually too?? who the FUCK knows man but if they do it sure isn't internally
are they vertebrates? invertebrates? ¯_(ツ)_/¯ (probably invertebrates, or an alien version of that)
unlike popular belief their earth name isn't starmen because of them being aliens. it's because the one who named them was really into starfish. saw one's detached arm regenerating and was like "holy shit… it's like that weird ass fish i saw the other day"
everyone else understandably so didn't catch onto this because why would you and went with "ouughh Man from Stars.." which is succint and understandable but it's boring as hell. let me have this.
their sheer psychic prowess makes them highly sought after as mercenaries. modern starman society is somewhat shaped around this and ESPECIALLY around their gamer relatives
space mercenaries babey!
coming back to their shell. ghosts of starmen, aka starmen elders, have begun their decaying process and are losing their affinity with magnetic fields. can't regrow or renew shell anymore. die of normal causes like disease or regular Old Age typically but if not that aint saving them because they die for lobster reasons too.
however, they're still highly valued and sought after, not just because of their overall rarity compared to juvenile/younger starmen, but because they have untold years of skill and experience in conquest and battle. AND sheer psychic power even if they're slowing down a lil
this includes so-called ghosts of starmen (who are named for their ethereal physical appearance and not actually because they're ghosts, although that would be cool as hell i do think they at least deserve a break in the. afterlife. for aliens? they deserve a rest), starmen deluxe, and final starmen, these last ones having the highest demand (high skill and strength while still being relatively young)
starmen's shells can be branded with crests to show/pledge allegiance. many have or have had several crests at once. starmen with a single crest are choosing to display ultimate loyalty to a single power which sure as fuck means something to the cosmos. ALL those civilizations you could get hired by, and even among the nations who are allied/have peace together some still refuse to get more than one, which is seen as. rude as hell like what the fuck man we're pals
starmen nationalism??????? i GUESS????
not sure if that's the exact word, but whatever man english isn't my mother (heh) language
a starman without crests… ohh man. they know the system sucks ass and are also seen as kinda. dissidents. and pests because ???? you're a starman asshat what else are you good for. man i did not like writing that
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luveslasher · 2 years ago
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A START OF AN OBSESSION WITH YOU
PART 4
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[I just found out my first post has 12 likes!!! Thank you so much, I'm so happy I can't help but feel butterflies in my stomach I'll post the rest soon for you all!!! Love you all 🥺💗]also I forgot to state that the reader is the exact gender you are, or you identify as!! <3
TRIGGER WARNINGS!!
*Blo0d
*Bite
*Emotional/crying
Skip if you're sensitive! :(
You quickly try your best to open the doors and enter the rooms looking for the end of the exit.
Right after you entered the other room the lights flicker, It looks like Rush is going to come after a while. This early though? You forget about those thoughts and hop in the closet.
As you wait for Rush to enter and leave, something grabs your shoulder tightly definitely leaving you with a mark.
You flinch in pain trying to get words out of your mouth, "HIDE...JACK.. is it you? are you both here?"
Nothing, just silence.
You feel heavy breathing above your neck, a tight hold on your shoulders getting more tighter and digging through your skin, while another pair holds you down. you start to move around in the small closet. Not realizing that RUSH is no longer far but outside your closet, you could see his big smile and grey aura staring at you through the cracks. menacingly standing while watching you.
What have you done to anger them?
You start to lose your vision, it gets more blurry and pixelated. Getting a few yelps out of you, which the entities start to enjoy your sounds. You spin yourself to get away from their hold.
Then out of nowhere, they kick you out of the closet. Making you fall and hit your shoulder, already bruised and in pain. Why are they acting so aggressively toward you? They were so friendly at first...You can't trust these entities anymore, they have snapped.
RUSH is no longer in sight he left while you were fighting back not wanting to watch the rest of you terrified.
You stand up in pain and tiredness, rushing to the other doors.
Right after you enter the room, there's a narrow hallway, lights flicker, and you start to hear screams. You try to run but it gets you trapped in a repeated chase in a dark hallway, a large translucent blue spirit appears in front of you, making your strength slow down and decrease.
You try to run to the back but then appears the spirit 'HALT' you dash to the front, which feels like forever.. it finally ends... Oh gosh, what's happening?! you start to break down.. 'it isn't time to give up..' you think while wiping tears off your face.
You get a hold of yourself together, you stand up quivering. as you stare at the door for a while, trying to work up the courage to open the door. As your hand strokes the doorknob, hurriedly you pull the door open silently not wanting to be noticed by the other entities.
The room you have entered looks normal for a bit, you see a strange shadowy figure hiding near the corner, making a quick movement to catch your attention. You see a long black slimy tentacle lobbing a ball of slime toward any light source.
Suddenly the room goes pitch black, you hear scatters around the room. You try to grab your flashlight in a quick motion, but accidentally drop it, causing it to roll over on the ground. Which alerts you to panic, you feel a bunch of slimy wet tentacles grabs hold of your shoulders. As you try to scream, a slimy tentacle wraps around your mouth causing you to be silent, mumbling behind the tentacle.
You know well that this is 'SCREECH', as you try to get out of his hold, you struggle. You feel a cold slimy thing with a little stickiness.
SCREECH lays his tongue on your shoulder, licking it to taste you. Enjoying your taste he starts to drool around your shoulder, he pulls back causing you to shudder. Giving you time to finally breathe and process what the hell is happening. After, a few moments of relief.
Out of nowhere, you feel intense pain around your shoulder, SCREECH takes a bite of your shoulder, causing blood to spew out. Sharp teeth gripping around your skin. SCREECH takes his saliva out to fill your cut up with a sort of liquid that is causing you to be dizzy and lightheaded.
You then swing your legs around, and you feel something bump into your leg. You kick the unidentified item into your hands, you grab ahold of the mysterious item. It's the flashlight you lost! you grab it tightly and aim at SCREECH, turning it on it flashes onto SCREECH, he screams in pain causing him to scatter around the room and disappear from your sight.
You cower yourself into a ball, shaking tremendously...why you?
Why did they have to be so obsessed with you?
You grab your injured shoulder...you remember the bandage you found before. You rip the bag open and start fixing your shoulder up. After bandaging up, you try to stand up but pitifully stumbling to the ground. What on earth did SCREECH put inside your wound?
As you try to walk correctly, an uncomfortable pain makes you groan in distress, an intense headache that you can't help but cry. You grab onto the shelves, feel only a little strength in your bones. You feel yourself angry..so angry that you start to grip onto the shelve.
You feel determined to go through all the doors even if you have to face obstacles. Only to leave this hell.
You feel much more confident leaving this area. You slowly walk to the door flashing the light to the entrance, you open the door and get in.
Nothing in sight, hopefully, there will be no entities in sight. As you walk in, you stop in your tracks as you hear a scream behind you, that's not as far but not close either. This soon?! You already had to deal with the closets entities, RUSH, SCREECH..
You throw your hand to your forehead, you sigh loudly. You look around the room to enter a closet...hopefully JACK, and HIDE aren't there..
But much to your surprise..there were no closets in sight, the screaming was starting to get even louder.
You look around the room, trying to find a hiding spot. When you discover a vent, you quickly grab the cover off and couch down and slid in, you wait for a while until the entity runs pass you. You close your eyes shut, praying it was RUSH, and not AMBUSH..
The screaming is getting a so close, your eyes rightly closed. The screaming is so loud you could feel beeping through your eyes, it hurts so much. You open your eyes slowly only to see not RUSH...but AMBUSH standing right in front of the vent.
[END OF PART 4]
Credits to Pancake lucy helping me with this!!!,this is soon going to end with maybe 2 or 3 last parts?
But I will make part 5 and post it tomorrow for all you to enjoy!
Please tell me if I made any mistakes once again!
SORRY FOR THE SHORT CHAPTER!
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dumfanting · 2 years ago
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Same Heart ch 13: Interlude
A03 Link
Rating: M mature
Warnings: Grief, anger, night terrors, discussion of death
Word Count: 1453
When I sat down last night I meant to only scribble out some loose notes or an outline for this chapter, but I blinked and three hours had passed and it was written completely. Oops? Oh well. Finally, we’ll be getting to the Bad Batch arc of this Bad Batch fic, immediately after this chapter. I want to thank all of you again for reading, commenting, and sharing this story. The responses I get from each of you are what motivates me to keep writing. Thank you.
F! Reader/ Echo (and Fives)
You’re burning out, badly, then Kix approaches you about a job.
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You surprise everyone by returning to work after only one day.
While sitting in your apartment, unmoving, for at least 8 continuous hours on the second day, you had a lot of time to think. And the more you thought about everything that happened, the angrier you got.
You weren’t there for Echo, there was nothing you could have done for Fives, and more of the injured men you pledged to live your life saving were dying by the time they reached you. You thought hard about it. You held that frustration, grief, and rage close to your chest and used it to motivate yourself and your decision. You’d make a terrible Jedi.
And so, as you walk, confidently, into the medical wing the following morning, Kix does a triple-take as he spots you. You don’t look even remotely the way you had after Echos death. If anything you look stronger, serious, determined. It’s a jarring contrast to your normally relaxed, if a little anxious, demeanor. You go right up to Kix and ask to speak with him, your tone businesslike, which is also unusual.
After hesitating for a moment, Kix sighs and motions for you to follow him into one of the quieter hallways. Once there, he looks you up and down and says your name. “You don’t seem like yourself, are you okay?” he asks.
You bite your tongue and hold back a sarcastic comment. “I’m fine. I’ve actually been thinking about my work here.” you say.
“You’re not leaving are you? You know we need as many medics as we can get, if you-“ Kix says, before you cut him off.
“I’m not leaving. But I don’t want to be here,” you say plainly.
“What’s that supposed to mean? Do you want to transfer to Kamino?” Kix asks.
“Not Kamino. Put me in the field.” you say.
“Absolutely not.” Kix says without hesitation.
“Dammit Kix, I made it my life’s mission to save as many people as I can. I can’t do that if they’re already dying by the time I can get to them. Put me in the field; being able to handle things as they happen will increase odds of survival for the men. Hell, maybe even the Generals too.” you say, raising your voice but not yelling. Not yet.
Kix shifts uneasily on his feet before he says your name. “You’ve been through a traumatic loss, you aren’t thinking clearly,” he says.
You stare him down, and say “Kix, I have never been more sure of anything in my life. I can’t stand to lose anymore men. I’ll break rank to get this if I have to.”
Kix looks startled. “You really are serious about this,” he says.
You don’t speak and instead respond by squaring your feet and crossing your arms.
Kix is reminded of how Rex stood when he wouldn’t let you through the door to the hallway from the med room, only three days ago. You wear the same expression as well. Kix sighs, running a hand down his face and grimacing. “Alright, fine. I’m completely against this, for the record, but if it’s what you’re sure you want to do then I won’t stop you.” he says.
Your posture relaxes noticeably, and the hard look in your eyes softens. You breathe a sigh of relief. “Thank you, Kix. You have no idea how important this is to me,” you say.
“You’re right, I don’t,” Kix says before leading you back into the hospital wing.
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Months pass before you realize Kix may have been right about you going into the field.
After Echo, it hurt you to see exact copies of his face just in passing. After Fives, you see both of them in every clone you come across. And so, whenever you can’t save one of the men, it feels like losing them all over again. You thought that being in the thick of it would help, that the constant movement and chaos would keep your mind off of the domino twins.
You were wrong.
The two never left your mind, appearing in all of your dreams as the time progressed. The nightmares you had after losing Echo were absolutely nothing compared to what your unconscious mind is throwing at you now. Most nights you would relive your worst experiences from being deployed. Dozens of men, dead, dying, screaming, and you were completely paralyzed, unable to even breathe, and forced to watch it happen. If that wasn’t bad enough, sometimes the dream would force you to watch Echo and Fives die, over and over again. You had a hard time getting to sleep, always afraid that you’d wake up with a scream and drenched in sweat.
After a particularly bad mission, you come to the crushing realization that you just can’t keep this up. You want to help, need to; it is so ingrained into you that it is almost your entire identity. But you can’t do it anymore. So much pain and death, so many nightmares, all the horrors of war, it had all finally gotten to you. You decide that, as hard as it would be, leaving the GAR behind was the best thing to do for yourself. You’d find a smaller city, on another planet, and do what you could there, where the odds of running into any clones were slim.
The next morning, when you ask to speak with Kix, he knows immediately that something is seriously wrong. You’d been so strong, unyielding even, that when he sees your slouch, your softened voice, your exhausted eyes, he has an idea of what you want to say to him. The two of you move into an unoccupied med room and close the door behind you.
“Kix, I-” you start, but he softly says your name, stopping you.
“I know. It’s okay,” he says sympathetically.
“I just can’t,” you say, your voice cracking as you speak. “I’ve tried to force myself to keep going, but I can’t keep putting myself through this.” You hiccup, and turn away from Kix’s gaze, embarrassed. It’s quiet for a few moments.
“Do you remember what you said to me, outside of your apartment that day?” he asks, quietly walking over to you.
“‘Why do you all have to look the fucking same’. I remember. And that’s the problem,” you say, a few stray tears rolling down your cheeks.
“I was originally going to tell Bortuse about this,” he says, pulling a small datapad from one of his many pockets, opening a few files, and handing it over to you. “But I think this is just what you need,” he says.
Confused, you look down at the open file: “Clone Force 99”. You hadn’t heard of them before, though you were aware that sometimes there would be smaller teams of men who don’t work with a specific commander. This must be one of them, you think.
Kix had brought up how he and all the other clones look the same though. What does that have to do with this?
You open another file, and it all makes sense. The four men whose photos you are looking at, were all different. You can see some clone traits, like the darker skin, two had curly black hair, and other small details, but they each are unique. You almost have trouble believing that they actually are clones.
As if reading your mind, Kix speaks up, saying “These guys have been genetically modified to enhance certain traits over others. Their mutations are why they don’t ‘all look the fucking same’,” he says, quoting you in an attempt to ease your mind.
“So, what about them? What does any of this have to do with me?” you ask, confused as you return the datapad.
“They need a medic. Someone who stays with them and goes everywhere they do, especially for missions. They’re very valuable to the Kaminoans,” he explains, but you catch the shift in his tone with his last sentence.
“Ugh, of course they are. You’re all people, not ‘things’,” you say, disgusted.
“Either way, they need a medic, and you need a drastic change. Give it some thought,” Kix says before leaving the room.
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Later that evening, you’re pacing in your living room, considering your options.
Clone Force 99 sounds more and more like an answer to your prayers. You’ll still be working with the GAR, but you won't be haunted by Fives and Echos faces. It is an intimidating prospect, having to basically live with these four men you knew nothing about, but you ignore the anxiety gnawing away at the back of your mind and decide to take the job.
Finally, you think, you can move on.
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Taglist: @kaminocasey @grievouus @madameminor @zoeykallus @wolveria @the-sith-in-the-sky-with-diamond @jennamelinda12 @whore4rex
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glorified-red · 4 years ago
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Could I request hcs for subtle ways the boys express their protectiveness?
Thank you for the request my love! I got to play a fun little game of ‘Eenie Meenie Miney Mo’ for which request to do.
Protective BatBoys
word count: 1600~
warnings: insinuation of someone getting hit by a car, mentions of attackers
I was quite tempted to write Bruce headcanons to this but I must hold back ><
Dick Grayson
Ah, Dick Grayson, the King of small romantic protective gestures
Every time, without fail, Dick will wait until he watches you get inside your house safely before driving/walking away
Its a really cute tick of his because he covers it up with a goodbye kiss and goofy waves that leave you giggling even after you close your house door
But its so he knows where you are, and he can see for himself that you made it safely inside because the second he turns away too soon, you may get locked out, or someone can crawl out from the bushes and nab you
Paranoid, he knows
He constantly wraps you up in things, when you two go swimming he’ll patter up from behind you and place a towel around your shoulders, patting you dry along the way
Very insignificant gesture but he doesn't want you to catch a cold in the A/C or Gotham wind
He’ll do the same with his jackets, maybe even plop his hat on your head when it's gets to the snowy seasons 1. Because its adorable seeing the hat fall into your eyes and 2. Because it'll warm your head up
Scarves too, he’ll even go on a tangent about how cold it is outside while he wraps you in it
Dick will always offer to drive you places, even if you insist on driving yourself to meet up with him or walking there, Dick will still offer because it means he’ll be present if you get into a wreck, sucks but then he can help with first aid
If you decline his offer though, he’ll politely ask for you to take Titus or Ace with you whenever you walk somewhere, they’re trained and he trusts them to keep you company/safe when he can't 
Jason Todd
Jason’s protectiveness comes from a place of knowing how cruel the world actually is
He can't stand the idea of anything happening to you
If he has to, he will use his reputation of Red Hood as a way to keep you safe, putting a man at gun point and sneering out, “They’re off. Limits.”
He’d bust a whole trafficking ring if it meant ending a person who touched you or hurt you in any way
But Jason’s protectiveness doesn't stop while he's wearing the helmet
Even when you two are sleeping, Jasons unconsciously protecting you, no matter how you two cuddle, Jason always positions himself as closest to the bedroom door
Whether his back is to the door or he’s facing it, Jason needs the comfort of knowing any person coming into the room would have to get through him before even reaching you
He also envelopes you, he's a big guy so its pretty easy for him to wrap you up in his arms as an extra layer of protection from the outside world
Jason doesn't really like the idea of training you past basic combat or gun skills, hell, he doesn't like involving you in the family business if he doesn't have to
So he inserts himself into any situation you may need protection in
Which is exactly why he starts going to the gym with you as a work out buddy
Jason makes it sound like he just wants to spend time with you or help you achieve your goals faster since he knows how the body works from his Robin days
But deep down you both know his true intentions: he wants to keep an eye on you
The gym is crawling with creeps that have the guts to ogle at you or get too touchy, but having Jason’s 6 foot beefcake of an ass standing beside you the entire time is like an instant creep repellent
Plus, he gets to spot you and make sure you don't get injured from bad technique or from pushing yourself too hard
He’ll even encourage you with innuendos the entire time, but at the end of the day, he’ll gladly walk you home
Tim Drake
Tim is the most subtle about his inner protectiveness, a subtle King if you will
Most times when he gets protective, you never even notice
When you two cuddle in your house, it takes him a very long time to actively fall asleep because he doesn't trust your home security system if you even have one so he forces himself to stay awake just incase anything happens
But don't worry, he’ll eventually get to updating the security in your house
He does get these protective eyes whenever something is off when he's around you, they narrow a bit and latch onto whatever is off, glaring holes into the offending object until its all clear
Its quite terrifying to witness and very hard to miss when Tim is staring dead at the man speaking to you from across the room at a Gala, sipping his drink in the corner
If he feels the need, he will walk up and control the situation, whether it mean inserting himself into the convo or simply being present for it, he’ll do it
The thing with Tim though, is when he's protective, he’s almost always touching you in some way
His fingers playing idly with the ends of your hair as he speaks to a random person who walked up to you, clinging to your shirt/sleeves when he’s analyzing a situation and doesn't want you to go forward just yet, or even as simple as holding your hand as he leads you home
Tim also keeps small snacks/waters on hand at all times to protect you from Gotham heat and pesky hunger, very much like a mother hen because he also carries a first aid kit everywhere
He follows you whenever you walk alone around Gotham at night, he’s already on patrol so he might as well make sure you make it home safe, if anything happens he won't think twice about intervening as RR
If your going out somewhere alone he always always always asks you to call him until you make it to your destination, he doesn't care if he's working on something or in the middle of a board meeting, he has an assistant for a reason who can give him notes
Its become a normal thing for you to send him your Uber tracking link so he can watch it, if you don't send it he won't hesitate to hack into your account just to find it
Damian Wayne
Damian? Wayne? Being subtle?
Its usually pretty obvious when Damian gets protective over you
He’s the type who won't hesitate to pull out a knife out of god knows where and threaten whatever is responsible for you being uncomfortable
This leads to very interesting encounters of you having to hold him back because ‘oh no a random guy bumped into you and didn't apologize’ and suddenly Damian is missing 
He’s also incredibly blunt, saying things like “Cover your drink” at galas or handing you one of those hand held tasers before you go out and saying “Go for the neck”
Will insist on training you himself, whether its hand-to-hand combat or with a sword, Damian wants to keep track of your progress himself so he can make sure all your weaknesses are trained
Its also because he doesn't want his grimy brothers near you, so its protective on all counts
But subtlety? Theres a few you can notice after being with him for awhile
He’s very careful when going out around Gotham with you, Damian knows he can fend for himself so he will gladly take the brunt of any possible situation
This leads to him always walking on whichever side of you thats closest to the road, so on the off chance a car derails, he’ll get hit first
Always making sure to match your pace when you two walk together, he doesn't want you getting too far ahead of him because he'd have to run to get to you, too far behind and he might not notice you getting taken silently, he wants you right in arms reach at all times
He has a permanent scowl and narrowed eyes but when he's protective, they get even more prominent
Bonus
All the BatBoys do the same exact thing out of instinct when it comes to protecting you
None of them will hesitate to step in between you and any attacker, pulling you behind them so they are in the line of fire now
Its a subtle action that each of them do, albeit with some differences
Damian will push the attacker back as far as he can from you, putting plenty of distance between the two of them and you, so if anything breaks out, you can run away easily
Dick will hold his arms out, fully covering you but keeping his hands in the fray so if the attacker tries attacking you from any angle, Dick is ready to protect
Tim will grip onto you somehow, keeping his hand right on your bicep or forearm so he can still hold you, he doesn't know if there can be a hidden attacker from behind that will pry you away from him, so touching you is his way of making sure he doesn't lose track of you
Jason will slip in front of you and cross his arms, its a sign of nonchalance but obvious dominance, showcasing that he doesn't need his hands to be intimidating to the attacker, he’ll glare and challenge them so all attention is on him now and not you
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Taglist ♡
@anothertimdrakestan
@bungunz
@red-hood-redemption​
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moontheoretist · 2 years ago
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Final Rant About She-Hulk
[Disclaimer: This is very reactionary, written while watching]
- *opens and closes her mouth* *gesticulates* *lost all ability to speak* ............................................................ I have no words. Wait no.
- Ok so... Jennifer got a little bit angry, destroyed a TV and a wall. She scared people, but ultimately she didn't attack anyone and surrendered the moment the law enforcers arrived... AND SHE IS PUT IN THE SAME FUCKING PRISON AS THE FUCKING EMIL BLONSKY WHO WENT ON A FUCKING RAMPAGE THROUGH HARLEM AND PROBABLY KILLED A LOT OF INNOCENT PEOPLE PLUS SOME POLICE OFFICERS AND MILITARY MEN!? WHAT IS THIS? Like seriously, what is this, because she seems to be unproportionately punished for a minor and justified anger episode. Yeah, she is a Hulk, but she surrendered, which Hulk and Abomination WOULD NOT DO. Abomination would just fight, while Hulk would run away, because he is that type of person. WHY SHE ENDED IN PRISON? WHERE IS HER SCENE WITH SOME LAWYER SWOOPING IN AND KEEPING HER FROM GETTING INTO PRISON IN THE FIRST PLACE? WHY IS THE LAWYER APPEARING ONLY AFTER SHE WAS ARRESTED? WHY?! WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK!?
- I agree with Mallory that what people saw was a monster when Jennifer got angry, but do people really have such a goldfish kind of memory? Don't they see that Jennifer surrendered immediately and didn't even injure anybody? Speaking of which, Jennifer is also right. Anybody in her situation would react the same, AND I disagree with Mallory here. Jennifer is a Hulk, yes, but looking at how she behaved, she was not out of control. If she was out of control completely she would have fought the people who came to apprehend her, she would not fucking surrender herself willingly to them. If she was the monster people see her as, she would go on a rampage through half of the city. But well, I guess she is a woman, so nobody would treat her as if she was a man. If she was a man, her anger would be seen as part of who she is, instead of something that makes her into a crazy monster. Hell, people loved the Hulk for that exact reason. That he went on out of control on rampages. Geez! Give me a fucking break.
- Did Jen got similar terms to Emil Fucking Blonsky? I am so mad.
- Also, really? Are we going to ignore the band of incels targeting super women now? (Yep, they went and ignored ALL OF THEM).
- AND SHE LOST HER FUCKING JOB! SHE LOST HER PRIVACY, DIGNITY, HUMANITY AND JOB. HOW MANY THINGS WILL BE TAKEN FROM HER? ... SHE LOST HER APARTMENT TOO!?
- Interesting thing though is that she lost her right to turn into She-Hulk, which you could count as losing powers, even if she didn't lose them at all, so technically Jen got what she wanted, but also she didn't get what she wanted. She didn't get normal life again when She-Hulk is finally gone. She got broken pieces of the life that she may never recover enough to live normally. She wanted to be a successful lawyer, and what happened is that she no longer is that. She cannot even go outside without reporters asking about what happened. I bet there will also be people that will treat her like a monster now, even when she cannot turn into She-Hulk anymore. HELL, she is even more vulnerable as a woman now, because she is in the position when any attack at her person can end fatally in more ways than one. She could be fridged literally here. Which is SCARY.
- The only nice thing so far: Jennifer loves Legally Blonde. Me too, Jen. Me too. Also did you know that Elle is coded as autistic? What an icon. I love her. Jennifer and I share love for Elle.
- Me right about now: *inserts Tony Stark to hack all of those incels and destroy them, because they dared to attack one of his favourite Hulks* They would be so destroyed that they would not want to see the light of day anymore. (Yes, I know it would be not feminist to make a man deal with Jen's problem, but let the girl dream that Tony would be so furious we would be ready to fuck all of those incels lives to Kingdom Come). His reputation would NEVER recover.
- *takes her chair and throws it at Dennis Bukowski* SHUT YOUR TRAP! YOU DATED SHIT! How can this guy even say such things. Like ugh, what is his problem!? Ah, wait. DELUSION. If I take him and drown him in the nearby lake, that will still be not enough to erase the taint from the world from anything he ever said or do. That man is literally the worst. Fuck him. Or more like NOT fuck him, because he doesn't deserve it and his genome may be too much for humanity. We will seriously all go into extinction if guys like him continue to procreate. I am starting to fantasize about castrating this guy.
- No! We don't want you to get screwed over, Jen! But thank you for finally saying out loud that we were saying for weeks. WHY this story is treating you like this? WHYYY!? You don’t deserve this!
- I can accept that it is a mental health break. You definitely deserve one after this bullshit! I feel like we all need it.
- How did we know she will use Pug as her incel stand in for the secret incel party? xD Elven old lady foreshadowed that lol.
- OMG that gross rich guy, seriously?!
- WAIT, DID JUST THOSE INCEL DUDEBROS SAID THAT THEY WOULD SMASH PUG? Should I be angry, or should I laugh that some of those incels are closeted bigoted homosexual men?
- Lol, it makes sense. Rich guy who lives for collecting superhero stuff. He has enough money to create several shell companies that run the website. OMG, seriously, if Tony was alive, this guy would be so dead. It would be a billionaire against billionaire fight. But Tony is not here, and we all want Jen to destroy this guy, because only then will Jen get justice. Nobody should do it for her, she should do it for herself, so it would have meaning! Smash them, Jen! Smash!
- WAIT, WAIT, WAIT, WAIT! "He is in the lodge, some private event"... THAT ROOM LOOKS FAMILIAR, WHAT THE FUCK!? EMIL, WHAT THE FUCK!? YOU WERE BETTER! I BELIEVED IN YOU. HOW FUCKING DARE YOU!? But welp, what did I expect from this guy, seriously? ... Ok, never mind. Apparently he didn't check for who he was fucking speaking, and now he is protecting Jen? Like, seriously, Emil. CHECK YOUR FUCKING CONTRACTORS, DUDE! I mean, they are a secret organization, but they said their fucking name JUST THERE. Ok, well... yeah, Emil has no access to internet. I forgot. My bad. He had no ability to do the research. But he did have ability to get money and get hired, like, what the fuck Emil? Seriously, what the fuck. So do you have internet access, or you are just I dunno neutral in everything?! EXPALIN YOURSELF TO ME, EMIL!
- Lol, she just left her TV show and went into another xD Just to roast the team working on her show's storyline. ROAST THEM, JEN! ROAST THEM HARD! SERIOUSLY, YOU CANNOT IMAGINE HOW MUCH I WANT TO HAVE AN ABILITY TO JUST DROP INTO MCU CREATION ROOMS TO JUST POINT ALL THE STUPID IN THEIR STORIES EVER! I have so much to tell them.
- Also, Jennifer is completely right. Last time we saw Bruce, he was in space. It would be AWFULLY convenient if he dropped on Earth into the Emil's cabin, no less to fight. It is impossible. Same for Titania. It almost looked like Bruce and Titania had Jen bugged to hell and back, so they could stalk her location even in places that have no internet, lol. So yeah, Jen is completely justified to call it all bullshit and go speak to the manager. Kick his ass, Jen.
- "There are certain things that are supposed to happen in a superhero story". Yes, there are, but you do not have to be so BORING ABOUT IT. SCHEMES EXIST TO PLAY WITH THEM, TO EXPAND ON THEM, NOT TO CONTINUOUSLY REPEAT THE SAME THING WITHOUT DOING ANYTHING INTERESTING! Schemes are not inherently limited in the ideas you can use! Just try to pick good ideas, instead of rehashed old superhero ideas. Treat it like ART! Who cares about what Kevin wants? Kevin barely understands the universe he helped to create! That man and Russos are a menace.
- Yes, let's talk to Kevin. Feige. We are coming at you.
- Did she just break that guy's arm?
- KEVIN... K.E.V.I.N XDDDDD Should have seen that coming.
- "You are very expensive". Jen... Jen... why do you care? Fuck it.
- Ok... so... she changed the ending... so they would not show it in the end? What was the point, then? I want a rewind and I want to see the whole thing unfold again. And also where did Matt drop out off? In the middle of the lawn? SPACESHIP? Like, seriously, Jen. Where is the fixing here? I am like, so not seeing any fixing. I see skipping and indulging. I need logical for the story explanation. Not THIS.
- Didn't Jen violate her plea deal when she changed into She-Hulk? She came back from breaking the fourth wall as She-Hulk, so... I suspect someone should arrest her too? Like, hello? What happened?
- Scaar... what. where. when. what. what the fuck? SO HULK WAS 2 YEARS IN SPACE AND HE FUCKED? WHO?! WHOSE KID IS THAT!? WHAT YEAR IS IT ANYWAY!? *counts from Age of Ultron that was in 2015 to Endgame that was in 2023* SHOULDN'T HE BE LIKE 8!? Or more?! HOW MUCH TIME HAD PASSED SINCE ENDGAME?! WHAT IS HAPPENING!? This literally makes no fucking sense. (Will they try to bullshit that time works different on Sakaar so it makes sense?)
- Ah, so she was cleared upon arresting Intelligentia. Still doesn't explain lack of arrest for her taking off her ancle device.
- Tell me that I am not alone in thinking that the ending was stupid. I liked some elements of it, but the execution of it? Horrible. Ugh, where is the fixing Jen promised? I don't see it. Josh was not held accountable for the "rape by fraud" that he did (I am not American, but I learned since last week that the state of California considers consent given to someone who engaged in sex under false pretenses to be rape). The only one punished was the HulkKing. What happened to all those other incels? Because they deserve some ass whoppin’ in court of law as well. We got the whole plot of the blood sample erased completely, so now this is a big hanging plothole. Matt is cute in the ending scene, but seriously, he appeared out of nowhere with no explanation. How is this better than Bruce dropping from the sky in the middle of the battle? It is literally the same. And Scaar? WHEN exactly Bruce had Scaar?! Or he is like adopted? Some Sakarran kid got blasted with gamma and Bruce went all Tony on him, because kid needs family? I dunno. Nobody explained. I hate those introductions that tease and make no sense at all. And Emil still didn't hold himself accountable, because he skedaddled to Kamar-Taj to avoid the law at first opportunity. Where is accountability here?
- What is this mess? I literally have no more fucks to give. MCU is a mess. *hugs Ms Marvel, the only very good show MCU ever birthed*
- Y’know what? I cannot shake the feeling that if the show ended last week on a cliffhanger it would be infinitely better. It would use cliffhanger as licencia poetica and exploit the fact that stories that didn’t close all its points are valid too, and then it would have whole season 2 to actually crack on Intelligentia, to show Jennifer’s case in court, make Matt come back to help Jen and showing Jen nagivating the world in which she is now seen as a monster etc. Infinitely better.
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honeytae · 3 years ago
Note
Hi!! Idk if you’re taking requests or not, but I was hoping I could request something along the lines of where you’re in love with your best friend, taehyung, but he doesn’t know and he’s getting married soon. you don’t tell him how you feel until the night of his wedding when you���re a bit tipsy from drinking your feelings away. you can decide the ending! thank you in advance if you end up writing this! hope you’re doing well and staying safe. Xx
hi darling! i’m so sorry this took so long for me to write. i couldn’t get it to a point where i was satisfied with it for a really long time, i still don’t feel that good about it honestly but hopefully it’s okay for you!!! i tried to make it angsty (yikes) so hopefully it’s not horrible lmao
tags: @ahgasearmyfan, @hoseokayy, @the1921-monsters
genre: angst
word count: 1.6k
warnings: um so much heartbreak, oc is a little (very) in denial about the situation and comes off a little toxic tbh, requited love but nothing they can do about it now, mentions of tae going into a panic attack
You couldn’t handle it.
You couldn’t handle the ‘congratulations to the happy couple,’ nor the Mr. and Mrs. Kim sign practically floating over their heads. You couldn’t handle the copious bouquets and all the preparations that went into this.
And you felt like a complete asshole about it.
Which is precisely why you decided to prematurely exit the event, doing yourself and everyone else a favor by leaving for the night to go sulk in your hotel by your lonesome.
The elevator ride up to your floor was miserable, your own battles within your mind coupled with the fact that your floor was the top one, making the ride excruciatingly long on top of everything else.
Rustling with the hotel key in your bag seemed to take forever as well, finally barging into your half unpacked space with a sigh. You quickly shut the door behind you, hoping you’d been able to sneak away from the hotel lobby without any guests noticing.
Shuffling further into the room, you sat on the edge of the king bed in the center of the room, placing your head in your hands at the mere prospect of this weekend.
Taehyung was getting married. Kim Taehyung, your best friend, the one person you’d been pining for since middle school, would be legally bound to someone else in less than twenty four hours.
Maybe you just shouldn’t have come. Despite sending red flags to Tae, you couldn’t think of a better solution than fleeing at this exact moment. Why did you think you could handle this?
Two knocks against the locked door had your head raising from its resting place, cursing under your breath at someone coming after you.
You didn’t feel well. That would be your excuse.
“Hey, you okay?” Immediately upon opening the door, Taehyung spoke the question out into the air, dark eyebrows knit in concern and kind eyes imploring yours for an answer.
“Hi. I’m fine, just a little tired, Tae.” You pressed your lips together in a hopefully believable smile, the man frowning before nodding at you.
“Me too. Can I come in?” He asked, the question completely innocent however making your heart rate a bit faster at the what if. What if things had gone differently? What if it was still a possibility for things to escalate between you two?
Cut it out. He’s about to be a married man.
You raised your eyebrows at him for a moment, then stepped back to allow him in, putting all your concentration on shutting the wood for a moment as you took a steadying breath.
“What about your party?” You wondered aloud, the man humming as he took a seat on your fully made bed.
“I’m tired of the parties. They’re exhausting.” He chuckled, covering his face with his hands as he reclined back on your bed.
Your heart skipped another beat at the vision, his tight pants leaving little to the imagination and buttons from his dress shirt stretched to new limits with his strained position. Diverting your eyes, you walked over to the desk chair in the corner of your room, reaching for a water bottle out of your mini fridge. Get a fucking grip.
Tossing one over to the bed beside Taehyung, you sat down in the plush seat, grateful that the man didn’t seem to notice your distance from him as you glanced out the window.
Until….
“Are you really okay? I feel like you’ve been avoiding me lately.”
At his sudden words, you froze, gripping your water a bit tighter as you brought your eyes back to his face. He was closer now than before, having scooted to the edge of your bed to lean toward you, eyes showing concern for you as you shuffled in your seat.
Taehyung was never one to beat around the bush, and at times like this, you really wish he would just brush some things under the rug as easy as you could.
“I’m good, Tae. Just have a lot going on, I guess. I’m sorry I made you feel like that.” You said, hoping to clear the air and dismiss the topic as soon as you possibly could. The man’s stare wasn’t helping your state any.
“No apologies. Just wanted to check in on you.” He sighed, seemingly disappointed with your lack of response before a hideous painting across the room caught his eye.
“What the fuck is that?” He griped, making you chuckle as he sat up to lean toward the art piece, squinting with his lip curled in amusement.
“It’s not so bad.” You shrugged, smirking when he turned back to you in bewilderment. Realizing you were teasing him, his eyes went back to normal size, a smile meeting his own lips at the return of your familiar banter.
“How can you sleep in a room with that shit? I feel like asking for a refund.” He shook his head, making you laugh before taking a swig from your water.
“Somehow I manage.” You replied, twisting the cap back on the bottle with a sigh.
It’s times like these that you feel as though nothing is wrong. Times like these that transport you back to periods of your life when Taehyung was just a call away, and you thought maybe, just maybe, you two had a chance. But that was over now. Those days were no more.
Because Taehyung informing you about a blind date then turned into him in a full blown relationship, a serious one at that, and soon enough they were taking big steps such as meeting the parents, moving in together, and yes, getting engaged.
Your friends had been just as shocked as you were, pitying you with deep sympathetic looks over Taehyungs shoulder as you hugged him in confused congratulations. It had all happened so fast...how did you manage to lose him forever?
Waking up the next day, you felt a particular heaviness on your chest. It was the day before the wedding, the rehearsal dinner turned into an entire day of partying for their guests. A celebratory day, if anything.
But waking up and getting all dolled up for this occasion was the absolute last thing you wanted to do, today or ever. You had always thought that you’d have much more of a starring role in Kim Taehyung’s life. Shaking your head to dismiss those kinds of thoughts, you cursed as you left your hotel room, wondering how the hell you’d be getting through this day.
Four martinis. Four martinis was how you’d be getting through today. The bartender had become one of your closest acquaintances over the past few hours, eyeballing you silently as he poured you yet another cocktail, your demands obvious that you were not drinking out of celebration.
Sitting at the bar, you contemplated everything. From the time you’d met Tae, you had been so sure that you two completed each other. Were you that naive? And fuck, why are you still thinking about this now? It’s over. You and Tae will never be.
Nearly jumping off your stool at a hand suddenly clapping your back, you shifted your gaze over to the arm belonging to Jungkook, one of Taehyung’s youngest yet wisest friends.
“You’re sulking.” He said plainly, dark eyes tracing over your faded features, briefly examining the drink in your hand before shooting the bartender a knowing look.
“You shouldn’t be out here.” You sighed, nearly breaking into a sob when his hand laid over yours, fingers fitting between your own in a comforting gesture. With one glance at the man, you gained all the information you didn’t want.
He knew.
You wondered how long he’d known. Jungkook, being the quiet and relatively introverted person he was, was an observer. He knew everything about everyone it seemed, by not speaking to them at all. He noticed everything.
You just hoped he didn’t notice the way your eyes started blinking rapidly, and that he’d instead just go back into the party without another word.
“Neither should you.” He replied to you, his tone holding nothing but concern as he tried to catch your eyes.
You just couldn’t hold it in.
“Well maybe if I wasn’t in love with him I’d be having a better time.” You mumbled, leaning your head down on your hands, elbows pressed to the tops of your thighs, sad and tired as Jungkook froze beside you.
Unbeknownst to you, a concerned Taehyung had also come to find you, stumbling upon that very scene as Jungkook tried to console you.
Meeting eyes with his older friend, Jungkook’s mouth gaped open for a moment, opening and closing like a fish out of water as you cluelessly rambled under your breath about how stupid you were to ever let yourself come here.
With a shaky exhale, Taehyung silently began to put it all together. The way you’d been working constantly lately, picking up every shift you could to decline his repeated attempts at getting together with you, the way you’d ran off last night and brushed it off as you being too tired. It was all adding up.
You were struggling with this as much as he was. Maybe more.
But what Taehyung could do about this years ago was no longer an option, his hands shaking at his sides as he spun on his heel and walked out of the lobby. He could briefly hear Jungkook call for him but ignored it, breathing heavily as he rounded one of the hallways leading to the restrooms.
Unshed tears misted over his eyes as he hugged a corner of the wall, feeling rather unsteady as he leaned his forehead against the cool surface. The burning pain in his chest had him sinking down to the floor in an instant, sobs wracking his shoulders with heightening emotions rising in his throat.
You’d finally given him the green light. And it was too fucking late.
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Text
The Blight twins, codependency and fatal communication failure
Recently I talked about “the Blight children and toxic behaviors”, specifically about the tough love fallacy and how their parents get them to target each other rather than backing each other up.
In that post I mentioned wanting to make one specifically on the relationship of the Blight twins, and, well, here we are.
When we think of The Owl House and unhealthy/toxic platonic relationships, we think of the one Amity has with the twins in the earlier episodes, or Eda and Lilith, or the one the Blight kids have with their parents. I’m pretty sure very few people would look at these words and think of Edric and Emira… but it’s true nonetheless. The twins are raised in a very toxic environment that teaches them a lot of unhealthy mechanisms. The heavily codependent relationship the two siblings share is incredibly unhealthy for both of them.
Let’s get into why.
More under cut because hell this got long.
Who am I without you?
The Blight Twins always show up as a unit. They’re a set of two, who share the same track and are involved in the same shenanigans.
We never see them separate from each other in the show. Not a single time.
Their mother picks their matching outfits, according to Dana, because she likes her kids to be “color-coordinated.” They’re supposed to always look similar.
To Amity, they’re a united front—we don’t get to see her relationship to them separate from each other, we only get her relationship with “the twins.”
As far as I’m aware we’ve never gotten art from Dana featuring just one of them. They’re also often treated as a pair by the fandom (outside of their respective ships, that is), showing up together and showcasing very similar behaviors in fics, showing up together in fanart, etc.
We don’t have much content of just one of them with Amity (or anyone else that’s not their romantic partner).
You also don’t generally see them disagreeing a lot in fan content, which is interesting. Despite being two separate characters, they don’t get to actually be separate from each other a ton.
The main difference you see in their portrayal is in Emira being treated as the more responsible older sister, while Edric gets treated as more goofy (and a bit of an idiot), both in the show and fanon content. But that’s essentially it.
The twins are the twins. There’s no “just Edric” or “just Emira”. They don’t seem to exist without each other.
Their united front is both their greatest strength and their weakest link. They likely experienced a similar abuse as the one Amity went through, but they always had each other to lean on instead of enduring it alone. And while it definitely helps them a ton that they have each other, it also results in an unhealthy amount of codependency. Edric and Emira ONLY ever had each other. Their relationship with Amity is pretty bad and outside of that almost nonexistent up until Lost In Language, mostly used to hurt each other. Edric is always with Emira and Emira is always with Edric and there is no one else they can fall back on. Their most important relationship, the one with each other, is simultaneously the only one they have, one that they desperately clung to for a very long time. They don’t have any friends that we’re aware of.
Both Emira’s and Edric’s worst fear is born out of this. Despite being completely opposite fears, they stem from the same basic issue. In Enchanting Grom Fright, when they talk about their worst fears, Edric says “Being alone forever.” while Emira says “Being stuck with you forever.”
There is so much characterization in those two little sentences.
Edric has a fear of being alone because he’s always around Emira. He doesn’t know what it’s like to be alone, and he doesn’t want to find out. He doesn’t know who he is without Emira. This is somewhat subtle in the show, but she’s shown to be the more responsible of the two, preventing her brother from eating snow and being bitten by a bat. Edric looks to Emira for guidance, and his fear of being alone might stem from him not thinking himself capable of taking care of himself. Emira is smart and knows what she’s doing, and so Edric always runs after her. Even just entertaining the thought of being without her, without anyone to guide him, scares him so much that he proclaims it his worst fear. He likely leans on Emira a ton.
His desire to to lean on other people because he thinks himself incapable of handling issues himself comes with the possibility of him opening up easier, to the extent of oversharing, doing it so much that it becomes overbearing for Emira. But even if he can open up about some of the fears he has related to not meeting their parents expectations, he can’t really communicate the issues he has that involve Emira, because open communication about their issues is something they generally struggle with (see the point about lack of communication further below). Edric is under the impression that he needs someone else because he’s never been without Emira and doesn’t know what it’s like to exist without her. And as long as he has someone to lean on, he never has to find out if he’s truly as incapable as he thinks himself to be. His refusal to let go of her fuels his fear further—the tighter he holds on, the scarier the thought of letting go becomes.
Emira doesn’t know who she is without Edric either, and that’s exactly the reason she wants to break out of that dynamic so desperately. She doesn’t want to be nothing but someone’s twin for the rest of her life. She wants to just be herself, not have all her interests linked to her brother, for people to stop mentioning her only in the same sentence as Edric. She’s had enough of the matching. What Emira really wants is independence—from her brother, and, to a larger extent, her parents and their control.
Edric leaning on her as much as he does makes Emira feel responsible for him, and she struggles to let go of that because she doesn’t want to hurt him—but the tighter he holds on because he believes he needs her, the more overwhelmed Emira feels by her brother and the responsibility she holds for both of them.
Emira loves Edric, but she’s his sister, and can’t provide him with emotional support 24/7. Spending all day handling someone else’s issues can be pretty draining, especially when you struggle to share the ones you yourself have.
With Emira’s longing for independence comes a refusal to lean on anyone, especially on Edric, because she can’t at the same time let herself be vulnerable and need his support while also wanting to break out of their current dynamic. So Emira doesn’t talk about her issues, she doesn’t cry, she doesn’t lean on anyone. Emira is independent and strong and she doesn’t need anyone, especially not Edric.
It likely started out as them leaning on each other, but where Edric started to become too dependent on Emira always being there, Emira started growing increasingly overwhelmed and pulling back, catching them in a vicious circle of him trying to hold on tighter in order not to lose her, which causes her to draw back further.
To be clear:
a) Emira is not a terrible person for wanting to be away from Edric. What she said hurt him and came across as callous, but what he said harmed her too, even if the “why” that I just explained isn’t as blatantly obvious in the show. Edric isn’t a terrible person for relying on Emira so much, either. Neither of them are inherently malicious in any way, even if they do hurt each other. That they have to deal with these issues in the first place is rooted in the abuse they experienced, specifically in their parents treating them as a two-part set rather than two separate people their whole life.
b) I think it should be clear now why Edric’s behavior is toxic, but I want to address that Emira’s behavior is also an issue. While her desire for independence in itself is normal and healthy, she’s striving for a toxic kind of independence where she doesn’t need anyone anymore, which wouldn’t be good for her either.
Everyone needs to rely on other people sometimes, and if she doesn’t allow herself to, it’s going to cause some serious damaged in the long run. The most reliable relationship she had, the only support system she has, falls victim to her desire to be away from Edric… and only after she is she’s going to realize just how much she needed him, needed anyone to be there, too.
I think it’s very interesting that Edric’s and Emira’s issues are essentially inverted—they have the same root, but their problems are the exact opposite.
Edric is Emira’s mirror image.
This is also shown visually. With the matching clothes and identical dominant features (eye and hair color), they look extremely similar. Their beauty marks are what makes them into a mirror image rather than just looking identical, because they’re on opposite sides of their face. Emira’s is on her right cheek, Edric’s on his left. If they face each other, the marks mirror each other perfectly.
They had the same thing in the concept art I’ve seen of them too, but it was with identical earrings on opposite sides rather than beauty marks.
Caged Freedom
I couldn’t find a way to somehow smoothly fit this into the overlaying topic, but it’s an important part of the reason for their communication issues I go into below, and also just something that I wanted to go into, so take it or leave it.
The twins appear extremely confident, seem like they always get what they want (Amity even resents them for “getting away with everything”), but they really, really doesn’t. Sneaking out of school is the only way they can have the slightest bit of normalcy and freedom and control over their life, and Edric and Emira cannot be caught or it will come back to bite them—the reason they wanted to punish Amity in the first place is that she told on them for skipping, getting them in trouble.
Even within their “rebellion” against their parents, there’s a set system Emira and Edric have to operate within—matching clothes, perfect scores, not doing anything that could get back to their parents or harm the family reputation. Despite skipping school, they both maintain excellent grades. It’s said in Adventures in the Elements, Amity is even trying to beat their best score on an exam.
It’s a careful, calculated kind of resistance, not one that includes them openly opposing their parents. They do things their parents wouldn’t like, they tread lines, but they’re being smart about it, in hopes it will never get back to their parents. Even their limited freedom is caged in that way.
Despite seeming as confident as they do, they’re too scared to talk back to their parents. They cause exactly the kind of trouble that they know is possible to get away with without putting themselves in harm’s way. Going further, openly calling their parents out for how they’re being treated, would be dangerous, and so they don’t. They operate within the system and follow it as much as they have to in order to be able to push the boundaries even slightly.
Their endless confidence, their apparent fearlessness, is just another illusion of theirs.
They wouldn’t need to get back at Amity for telling on them if their behavior was just a huge “fuck you” to their parents. But they do, because their parents aren’t supposed to know. They’re scared, even if they’d never admit that.
Emira and Edric target Amity as a way to cope with the treatment they receive from their parents, which they to an extent blame on Amity (I’ve gone over this more in-depth in the toxic behaviors post I linked above).
Hurting Amity in hopes she won’t tell on them again seems safe in a way that actively calling out their parents behavior could never be.
Lack of Communication
Edric and Emira both have trouble communicating their feelings in a healthy way, and instead of open communication and talking things through they revert to backhand comments and punishment.
They grown up believing that severe punishments are necessary, “tough love” used to help someone improve as shown (and literally quoted) in Lost In Language in regards to Amity. That’s also something I go into my other Blight sibs post.
Regarding the backhand comments, let’s look at their worst fears in Enchanting Grom Fright again. As explained above, Emira’s “being stuck with you forever”-fear is a shitty attempt at trying to get across that she’s unhappy with never getting to be apart from Edric to just be herself. Edric’s “being alone forever” brings up a huge fear of his, especially of being abandoned by Em, which, regarding her worst fear, is justified.
Both of these fears are extremely understandable, and they don’t necessarily have to be at odds with each other—Emira just wants to not feel overwhelmed by Edric, and figure out who she is, and she doesn’t have to completely abandon him to achieve that, even if it’s something she might think she wants now. Edric has to find a way to be able to rely on himself more because Emira can’t always be around him, but he can still maintain a close, positive relationship with her, and would absolutely be able to make other friends that could support him.
What them voicing these fears is, for both of them, is a desperate cry for help, for change. Edric wouldn’t be bringing this up if there wasn’t a part of him that desperately wants to talk to Emira about this, and in the same way Emira wouldn’t have said her fear if she wouldn’t want it too. But the issue is that the twins don’t actually communicate. They put these huge things out there, validating the other’s worst fear with what they say. And then they don’t talk it out. These sentences just hang in the air between them, and then they move on like nothing happened, both anxious and hurt.
And this is because the Blight family in general doesn’t communicate. As mentioned before, the twins don’t dare to talk back to their parents, they do things behind their backs and hope they won’t get caught. They don’t communicate with Amity, and despite Edric and Emira being the closest person the other has, they don’t really communicate the issues in their relationship with each other either, because they don’t know how. This is not a skill they were ever taught, because talking things through like that requires them to be extremely vulnerable. To acknowledge what their worst fears are and why, that they might have gone too far or might have been wrong about some of the things they said, and therefore admit to not being perfect.
But Blights are required to be perfect, and Blights aren’t wrong—if others don’t see things your way, you make them. If others don’t act the way you want them to, you punish them. Tough love to help them grow and “encourage” them to make the “right” decision.
There’s no room for open communication in an environment that sees vulnerability as a shortcoming, and admitting mistakes as a weakness. If neither party is willing to take the first step, communication withers and dies, and the issues go ignored as they grow. Admitting there’s an issue in the first place, and that it might partially be your fault, is considered backing down. And Blights don’t back down. They can’t.
If you back down in business, let others convince you into a bad contact, you’ll never be successful. Worst case: it might be the end. And so you don’t back down. You never do. Blights don’t lose an argument. The other person has to break and back down first.
But that can’t work when both people involved were raised with that mindset. So Emira doesn’t make the first step, and neither does Edric, and aside from their backhand comments that never lead anywhere, they just suffer silently as their relationship disintegrates without as much as their acknowledgement of it.
For Edric, there’s also the issue that bringing up his fear might possibly drive Emira further away, knowing her fear. He doesn’t want to make her angry, and doesn’t want to fight with her, because it might lead to him losing her, which is exactly what he so desperately wants to prevent.
I can’t remember which post brought it up, but one post I read a while back also addresses how despite admitting that her behavior was wrong, we never hear Amity say “sorry” to Willow. Because if there’s one thing the Blight family does even less than admitting mistakes in the first place, it’s apologizing for them. Open communication is weak. Apologizing is weaker.
In summary: There needs to be a balance between depending on yourself and still being able to ask others for support when you need it, and Emira and Edric are currently sitting on opposite ends of the same issue. Both of them need to move more towards the middle. What one of them so desperately wants is what the other needs to recognize.
Emira realizes that she needs space from Edric, and because Edric doesn’t recognize it, he’s the one that needs space from Emira more. He desperately needs to realize that clinging to each other the way they currently are isn’t healthy.
Edric realizes that he needs support from other people, and that’s something Emira denies for herself that she really needs to realize.
They both have half of the solution to their shared problem, but their difficulties communicating the issues within their relationship properly prevent them from finding a healthy solution together.
For everyone that’s incredibly sad now (myself included): I cover these topics in several of my fics.
Most prominently, Locked Out, where I’m currently beginning to explore the Blight twins and their different mindsets further.
Most recently, Sleight of Hand, a collab fic I did with my friend @lexa-alycia, where, among other things, the twins have a long overdue conversation regarding the things said in Enchanting Grom Fright.
But also 6/8 of my currently posted Owl House fics (not counting another additional two that also do and are done but haven’t been posted yet) give focus to at least one of the Blight twins if not both, so yeah I have plenty of twins content on my profile for anyone that wants XD
Next up, probably (because I just do not want to be done with this apparently): a post regarding Vinem and Jerbric and why these relationships would work and be extremely beneficial for everyone involved.
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cheelduh · 3 years ago
Text
How to tie up a cute boy
(Highschool Au)
Pairing: Childe x fem!reader
Parts: 1  2  3
Word count: 4K
Warnings: Swearing, Scaramouche abuse, no Signora slander this time, shit humour.
Synopsis: "Why are you doing homework?" Childe groans, rolling off to the side and kicking off the blanket to expose himself in nothing but a pair of boxers. "I'm literally right here, naked and defenseless. Why aren't you taking advantage of me?"
Note: Unedited yet again besties. Tysm for reading :) I got Childe after losing him to mf MONA, istg it was the most stressful moment of my life.
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The clock ticks with its pendulum, ridiculing you as it holds the time. The gentle whirring of the air conditioning in the background serves as the icing on the cake to your pent up aggression.
You try not to glare at your phone too much after receiving a text from Childe that told you not to worry, that his dad picked him up and that he was in the comfort of his home, letting the flu blow over.
It took a lot of convincing from his part earlier that morning to get you to go back and actually attend the rest of your classes, making sure to check up on him every break plus the additional "bathroom breaks" you usually never take while in class.
"I can't let you get in trouble for me." He murmured with a small smile that pumped your blood a little faster than usual. "I'm fine, really. Don't worry your pretty little head."
You do exactly that.
You don't even know why you're so worried. He's sick, not dying. Not to mention, you aren't even his girlfriend let alone his friend to care so much. 
Your intrusive thoughts don't waste any time. You latch onto the one thought that takes over. He's probably dead. Lying in his bed in a heap of pillows, passing peacefully while his parents are in the other room. He's dead.
Okay, he's not dead. You intrusive thoughts sure do one hell of a job. He'll be fine, and in no time he'll go back to being a reckless distraction in your life that you need to surpass. Just another obstacle to add onto the list of things life has thrown at you.
But for an obstacle, he sure is kind of cute.
You refrain from bashing your head on the desk. School isn't really a preferred environment on your list of top ten places to shrivel up and die.
Speaking of death and all that is evil, why is Childe always on your mind? He takes up every nook and cranny of your day, constantly, and truth be told it's starting to boil your piss.
Every time you close your eyes you see his smug smile, and hear his stupid laugh. He's an annoying little prick who gets a rise out of exasperating you. Yet here you are, terrified by the warmth that blossoms in your heart when you so much as hear his name.
The final bell rings at long last, conveniently before you bite your tongue to avoid screaming, and not another second is wasted once you launch yourself out the door. You dodge through the crowd of students in the hall that are buzzing in excitement from it being a Friday afternoon, and you would be too if you weren't so damn hung up over a ginger with a battlekink.
Locker in view, you make a beeline and spend the next two minutes fumbling with the lock in your hands.
"Woah there cutie," Lisa speaks up playfully. "At this rate you'll break the poor lock with your bare hands."
For a moment you're surprised at her sudden appearance, but then remember that it's normal for her to worm her way anywhere.
"It's just—this lock is being dumb okay? It has no reason being a pain in my ass but it wakes up every day and chooses violence." You hiss through your teeth, a sharp metallic ring invading your ears when you lose it and jostle the combination lock against the door of your locker.
Lisa winces, but smiles teasingly nonetheless. "Want me to give it a try?"
"Please."
Lisa has the door open at record speed.
"I love you Lisa." You confess wholeheartedly, gripping at your chest. "I love you so much—"
"Yeah yeah," She waves you off with a grin. "Now hurry up and go save your boyfriend from the common flu. Archons knows he won't make the night."
You flush at the word "boyfriend" and don't give much thought to the insinuation that lies within the rest of her sentence.
Sliding your skateboard under an arm, you spin on your heel just to bump straight into Scaramouche, who's won the scowl of the century on his face. He's the last person you want to see right now, but apparently the universe wants to have a pissing match with you.
"Give this homework to that idiot Ginger." He shoves a stack of papers into you. "Tell him that once he's done circling the drain, I'm gonna kick his ass." He then leans in, murderous glint in his eyes. "And if you ever touch me again I'll take a shit in your cereal. That's not a threat, it's a promise."
You shiver at the thought of him squatting on your Cheerios, hands becoming clammy as you try and justify yourself. "It was an accident."
Your pitiful excuse earns you nothing from the navy haired boy. "It'll be an accident when I murder your entire family, three generations over."
"Hi Mona!" You wave excitedly over his shoulder at the body of students that are totally not Mona. With elation he fails to conceal, Scaramouche turns to look at the speed of light.
You take the chance to make your escape—not before waving to Lisa, chuckling to yourself. He's down bad.
With great expertise you file your way through the flock of students chattering near the entrance. , you confidently place your skateboard down on the sidewalk, ready to—
Wait—where does he live again?
You sigh heavily, ignoring the sadness as you thank the universe internally for pulling the reigns on your disastrous plan. Checking up on Childe at his house? With his family present? Making a complete fool out of yourself? What are you thinking? The possibilities are horrendous. He probably doesn't even think of you like that, he just likes a challenge and you pose as one.
You turn away to make a run for it in the direction of your home, all the while ignoring the nagging worry in your chest for Childe. He's probably fine anyways, you don't need to check up on him, and if you did he'd likely find a way to spin it and tease you relentlessly.
Although somehow, the thought of being teased by him isn't as dreadful as you'd like it to be.
Suddenly, an idea graces you, one that guarantees your misery by sating your obligation to check up on Childe. A litany of curses escape your mouth. Genius really, the amount of ways you can think of doing something that'll end in your demise.
"Adeptus Xiao." You whisper apprehensively, already regretting your decision. "Adeptus Xiao." Glancing around your surroundings, you barely notice the shadow that looms over you at your backside.
"What do you want mortal?" Unbeknownst to you, he strikes out of nowhere, making you jump back several meters. You manage to muffle a surprised shriek.
Xiao is Venti's -6 ft boyfriend, the vicious epitome of an eboy. He has a scaled tattoo covering up the majority of an arm, a few piercing holes in his ears, all matched up with a disinterested look. Somehow, he always appears out of nowhere if you call out his name. It's sort of disturbing in a way.
His amber eyes pierce through you, forcing a shudder of fear and dread to lace your blood, almost as if he can sense you shittalking him in your head.
With shaky hands, you ask, "Can you tell me where—"
"No."
"You didn't even hear me ou—"
"No."
"Please?"
He refuses to at least pretend to think about it for a moment.
"No."
"Why?" You frown, stomping your foot on the ground childishly.
"Because." He retorts with a lack of interest, but doesn't further explain his point. English teachers must love this kid.
"Okay," You say slowly, casually inspecting his form as you come up with an idea, briefly remembering Lumine mentioning it to you. "How about I give you my share on almond tofu Tuesday."
The lack of interest on his face wavers slightly. Bingo.
"What do you want mortal?" Xiao mutters gruffly, arms crossed, face morphing into subtle annoyance.
You wrack your brain for a proper answer. You can't just outright ask him or it'll seem like you have a thing for Childe, which you unfortunately do, but you'd like to keep a semblance of integrity. Ah yes, the homework!
"I gotta deliver these to Childe." You outstretch the pile of worksheets in your hands. "Except I don't know where he lives. Can you tell me?"
Xiao's eyes glint with danger. "Did you summon me for the trivial task of giving you an address?"
You nod furiously.
"Do humans have no shame?" Its rhetorical. Expressionlessly, he closes his eyes with intent focus, doing what you assume to be locating Childe's exact location.
He blinks an eye open, reaches a hand out. "Give me your phone." Palm waiting.
You hand it over to him almost desperately.
One glance at your bubbly phone case and he doesn't even try to hide his distaste. He taps a few times, then hands it back to you almost immediately.
On the screen is maps, and Childe's home is about a fifteen minute walk away.
Your jaw drops in disbelief. "How did you do that?"
"Easy," He mutters, leaning back against the school gate as the remainder of students walk past the two of you. "Locating demons that need subjugating is but a simple task."
There's a pregnant pause. Demon.
"Childe's a demon?" You gasp, even though you've always had your suspicions. Hence the reason you invest so much in demon-cancelling charms.
"What? No." He mutters with a roll of his eyes, and you note that his irritation grows the more questions you ask. "I had a physics project with him last semester."
That's why the charms don't work.
Your mouth forms an o, in fear that if you keep this conversation going on any longer, he'll snap at you. Especially when your next line of interrogation involves how he's able to appear and disappear into thin air.
It's a magic trick you'll want to master whenever Il Dottore has another conniption fit in the middle of the hallways after Kaeya tells him he looks like he has skid marks.
"Thank you." You say instead, trying to preserve his regard, but by the time you meet his gaze he's already gone with the wind.
Childe's home is surprisingly humble, considering the amount of fat stacks of cash he carries around in his fanny pack so care-freely. It's a normal suburban home from what you can tell, a little bigger than normal with a double garage, neatly mowed lawn and a few forgotten decorations from the windblume festival. A series of water guns lay forgotten near the entrance, making their presence known when you stumbled upon them.
It's hard to remain unphased. Especially since such a normal looking home has bred someone as ruthless as Childe.
Maybe it not the home, you think. Maybe it's the way he was raised. You recall a few glimpses of his mother in middle school, but because of your worse for wear memory retention, you can't ballpark her personality type.
As your thoughts wander further down to his parents and early childhood, villain origin story and what not, you're pulled out of your concentration when the door opens. The possible implications of being here are most definitely not in your favor.
Childe's mother is a stunning woman in her mid-forties who sure as hell doesn't show it in that jaw-dropping sapphire dress, topped off with a brilliant smile that makes your knees weak. Like mother like son, you suppose.
With her sudden appearance, strangely enough, you can remember how good her tiramisu bites are.
You take a moment to respond, swallowing thickly, only to stare at her stupidly.
His mother doesn't waste another second before ushering you in, oblivious to your star-struck expression. "Y/N? L/N Y/N? My have you grown. I remember when you were only this tall." She lifts her hand up a little above her waist, the jewels on her fingers dazzling with every movement. "How is your mother doing?"
"She's doing alright, busy with the clinic." You're able to find your words, smiling back at her, able to get somewhat familiar with her warmth. "I hope I'm not intruding. Childe forgot some homework." You say, heaving the short stack up.
"Ajax?" She laughs, shaking her head in disbelief. "I can't believe he's going by that now. I wonder when this phase will be over. He may act tough but he's such a softie, has the biggest heart."
You, in between concealed emotions and giggles that threaten to leak, try to hide the oncoming grin but it's impossible. "Well he's got you to thank for it."
"You flatter me too much Y/N," She fixes the up do, pinning back the blonde hair that deftly frame her familiar cerulean eyes. "I can see why he can't stop talking about you."
Her words make you waver momentarily. The fondness you've refused to share, the drawn out stares in the halls, the lingering touches, you don't want to acknowledge it but it's there. Whatever it is.
"I'm so sorry for cutting this short dear," His mother sighs, grabbing her keys off the counter and placing her wallet in an elegant handbag. "My niece is getting married and we're already late. I told Ajax I'd stay if he didn't feel too well but he said he could handle a headache. That boy, I swear, always tries to power through."
You nod in understanding, but wait a minute. A headache?
Scrunching up your face, eyebrows furrowed, you ask. "Headache?"
She frowns, applying another layer of her rouge lipstick hastily in a nearby mirror. "I know dear, how unfortunate. The school nurse said it's a migraine, and I shouldn't fret much, but a mother can't help but worry. If only he weren't so stubborn, like his father."
As if on cue, a loud honk comes from outside.
"That must be him!" She exclaims, hurriedly sliding in her heels, turning back to look at your awkward figure. "Ajax is in his room, it's the second door to the right upstairs. I've made some lasagna for the kids, you ought to have some as well, I'll be upset if you don't—" Another annoying honk cuts her off, to which she scoffs, shaking a fist. "That old man, I'll strangle him in his sleep. I must be going now, goodbye dear." She reveals a twinkling smile at you one last time, waving a slim hand before picking up her heels and making a run for it.
The door closes with an unceremonious thud, gust of wind in its trail, leaving a bewildered high schooler in its wake.
Snapping out of your haze, overwhelming tides threaten to drown you whole. Being in Childe's home, alone, with him a handful of stair steps and a wall or two away, your cheeks are set ablaze.
Now that his mother's gone, you take a second to really look. There are a few toys littered in front of the TV, home covered in with soft throws and coordinated cushions, a lazy sectional plopped right in the middle. The marks on the furniture with all the stories, the light hued mismatched frames hanging on the walls and on all the table, so many pictures of those that resemble him, his brothers, his sisters, his family. You can almost hear the echoing laughter in the halls, the childish squeals and pitter patter of tiny feet slapping the hardwood floor.
This is where he grew up. This is where he retires to after a long day full of gratifying fistfights. This is where he was raised to be who he is today, ambitious and reckless, with the absurd dream to one day rule the world. This is his home.
It's...like being wrapped in blanket, safe and cozy, surrounded by all the love in the world.
Absentmindedly, your fingers trace the outlines of a younger Childe, two missing teeth and eyes full of dreams, hugging the side of his father's shoulder because his small arms can't wrap around them. Not just yet.
You make your way over to the staircase, which has even more frames littered across the wall, one that falls short of hiding the marks of a green crayon—another slice of domesticity you aren't quite accustomed to.
The reality sets in, and you come to a conclusion. This home is definitely not an environment for growing psychopaths, Childe just beats the odds like he beats up kids on the daily.
Your fist hovers over his door as you contemplate abandoning the sheets on a nearby table, but his mother was so sweet and polite, so incredibly hospitable, you wouldn't have the heart to make a run for it.
"I can see why he can't stop talking about you."
Three consecutive knocks. If he doesn't answer, you'll leave them at the door.
"Mama," Childe's muffled groans stem from the other side, and oh, you want to revel in the grave undertone of his voice because it's certainly not a common occurrence. "I told you I'm fine. You can go okay? I don't want you to be late, just need to sleep it off."
You blink, lips curling, and then knock again.
"Mama," He whines again, and it has you grinning mischievously. He's a mommy's boy, he has to be. The thought envelopes your heart with a newfound fondness. "Just come in and hurry."
You eagerly take in the room once you slip in, eyes scanning over every little detail, until they zero in on the heap of sheets smack dab on the single bed, a pair of feet dangling off the edge, topped with a comforter thrown over leisurely.
Childe's facing away from you, head dipped in between his shoulders, probably trying to find a position that's more comfortable. He's shivering, sweating at the same time. His mother must've been too preoccupied to notice. This isn't the first time he's used his exceptional bullshitting finesse.
"I can't believe you lied to your mother," You cross your arms, leaning back against the door.
With a jerk, Childe flings into a sitting up position, wide awake and aware of everything that is going on, a stark contrast from nearly seconds ago.
He blinks at you in shock, once, twice, rubs his eyes a bit, relaxes, then leans back, out of it completely. "For a sleep paralysis monster, you sure are kind of cute."
"For and idiot you sure are an idiot." You snort back.
"Wait a minute," He mutters slowly, jaw dropping. "You're actually here?!"
Ignoring his question, you opt to slap the papers on his desk to ignore your clammy palms. "Homework."
"And here I thought you came here all this way to be my personal nurse." He smirks, recovering from his momentary shock fairly swiftly. Doesn't refrain from giving you that shit stain of a bad boy grin, even with a flushed face and concavity under his eyes.
"I can be your personal mortician instead."
"I didn't know you were into role play babe, but I'll take what I can get." He winks, but is punished by a sequence of coughs that earn a wince from you.
"Headache?" You tease after he quiets down, but he remains as cavalier as always.
He sighs, sides of his lips still arched upwards. "My parents barely have any time to themselves, it's so hectic with the kids. What kind of son would I be if I couldn't even give them this?"
He must've threatened Barbara.
"You're," You inhale, briefly letting the silence hang between you two, mulling over what you wish to convey. sweet.
"Irresistible? Hot? Sexy?" He starts casual, arrogant smirk widening.
"Kind of not a complete asshole, is what I was going to say."
"Careful girlie," He narrows his eyes on you, playful lilt in his tone. The comforter is allowed to slip past his shoulders to reveal the goods that lie underneath, the complete naked chest of a post-puberty highschool boy who sprays too much axe. Full pectorals are something to pay for, stringed with smooth muscles that ripple their way over his toned shoulders. "If you keep teasing me like this, I can't promise I'll be the nice guy."
"One more time from the top," You bite back, avoiding staring at him for too long. "Without the congested nose this time."
With great expertise, he weakly throws a pillow at you, and you watch it exceptionally land at your feet, barely grazing the tips of your socks.
"Impressive," You whistle, not impressed.
He pouts, shivers, then is dunking his head back into the welcoming embrace of his plush collection of pillows.
With a sigh, you plop down on his chair, grab a pen and begin calculating derivatives.
"What're you doing?" He doesn't even turn your way, voice muffled.
"Homework," You reply nonchalantly, trying to calm your nerves. "unless you want me to get you something to eat, considering you puked out your gogurt on Barbara's shoes earlier. Congrats by the way, you're hit listed by her fan club."
"Why are you doing homework?" He groans, rolling off to the side and kicking off the blanket to expose himself in nothing but a pair of boxers. "I'm literally right here, naked and defenseless. Why aren't you taking advantage of me?"
He really has an IQ below room temperature.
Burying the formidable obligation to clock him in the face on behalf of society, you slowly get up to approach his bed, to which he grins widely in disbelief.
Apprehensively, you climb onto his bed, and he scoots over, excitement as clear as day. His hair's a wild mess from all the shifting, almost makes you want to card a hand through it. Your heart nestles it's way in your throat at the sight of his blazing blue eyes.
You pity him for what you're about to do.
"Relax Childe," You lean over him with confidence you never knew you had to begin with, face hovering inches before his. Your fists strategically grip the comforter on either side of him. "We have all day after all."
Although you attempt to pay no heed to his quivering hand that snakes up to find solace on your hip, you momentarily shiver at the tenderness.
He's eating this up and leaving no crumbs. Closing his eyes in anticipation, his lips tremble when he tries to close in the distance.
Abruptly, you cross both handfuls of sheets over his body, tying them securely in place to keep him docile. He struggles in your grip, eyes snapping open in surprise. "Wuh-What."
"Did you really think you had a chance?" You cross your arms, stepping back to get a good look at your handiwork.
"Honestly?" Childe huffs, struggles some in his restraints. "I wasn't really thinking."
"Typical," You scrunch your nose up, unscrunch, and then exhale. "You stay here and I'll go make you some soup. Well, not that you can really move but you get the idea."
"You're really going to leave me here like this?" He pouts cutely, melting you, and the sick bastard knows of his power.
"Relax," You wave a hand, "I may be evil but I'm not Scaramouche."
Meanwhile, Scaramouche sneezes as he tries to ask Mona out, falling straight on his ass from the kick back, making a complete fool out of himself. Mona doesn't mind though, finds it endearing.
Back at Childe's room, he raises a brow, expectant.
Going through the five stages of grief, you do something you've been wanting to do for a while, succumbing to the immense feeling.
Closing in the distance between you two, you suck in a breath and gently tilt Childe's head to the side. He blinks quickly, not quite expecting your sudden forwardness, about to say something that doesn't matter as soon as you place a tender peck on the side of his cheek.
Time stops, the world coming to a halt completely. A moment made in history, one you won't ever forget, fresh in both your minds from forward on.
And then you stagger away as if you've been stabbed.
"Soup!" You squeak, appalled by the sheer boldness of your actions. "I'll go make soup while you rest."
Childe, frozen, stares at you incredibly confused, and then beams.
Dear Archons, what have you done.
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mammons-tax-returns · 4 years ago
Note
How would Lucifer, Mammon, Levi, Satan, Asmo, Barbatos, Solomon, and Diavolo react to a male MC who wears skirts (because *chants* men in skirts, it’s masculine af) on the daily? bonus if the MC wears black nail polish!
REACTING TO MC THAT WEARS SKIRTS
LOVE THIS PROMPT 🙏
During this I imagined 💃🏻💃🏻💃🏻TANGO DANCER SOLOMON and thats going into my art idea list
masterlist
✖️MALE MC✖️
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Not unlike all the other boys, Lucifer is willing to risk it all as soon as he sees it.
His favorite cut of skirt is the classic a-line ones, both modest and not.
A CLOSE second goes to wrap skirts.
This is a SFW blog so I will not be going into any detail at this time ✨
Literally loses his breath everytime he sees MC, and it surprises him.
If MC isn’t already wearing the RAD skirt, he’s already offering to get him a set. Almost too eagerly?
When MC decides to not wear a skirt one day, he tries not to make it too obvious, but he’s simply curious as to why is all. Maybe a tad bit let down.
MC insisted one time that Lucifer painted his nails for him, and...
“Well, normally Asmo is the one doing that for all of us...”
“But Lucifer 🥺”
“Alright... Fine. But I’ll have to continue my paperwork in between each layer.
It’s just kinda cute to think that he would spend an incredibly unnecessary amount of time on each nail, trying to perfectly lay down the polish. Occasionally, his tongue will poke out because of his concentration.
There’s some slip ups here and there, but mentioning them will only get him flustered.
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I don’t use this word lightlySIMP SIMP SIMP
He thinks he loves MC in every skirt imaginable just as equally as the last (which, he actually might) but deep down he can’t deny that a mini skirt just hits different.
The first time he saw MC wearing a mini skirt, mammon’s initial reaction was to cover him up before anyone could see him.
However, he failed to realize that he was actually the last of the brothers to see him, since he woke up late.
But that’s just what being the avatar of greed does to you. You just want to keep what’s yours, no matter what.
But considering his jacket isn’t as big as Lucifer’s or Solomon’s, he ended up just holding it up against MC’s lower half and stood in front of him.
It took the coaxing of MC and the snark comments of his siblings to make Mammon finally allow MC to walk around freely.
Looking back on it, Mammon most certainly understands why even Asmo had called him clingy.
But even now, he can’t help but hold MC a little bit closer in public when so many demons are staring at him! It just feels wrong to allow them to do that.
Cut him some slack, he thinks MC looks amazing, and he trusts him, but they’re literally in hell surrounded by demons. He just wants to keep his boy safe <33
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Levi doesn’t even realize what MC’s wearing at first.
In fact, he doesn’t realize even after their first FEW encounters.
He only notices because while Mammon was ranting to him and Satan about money, he brings up MC and his “stupid and cute but also dumb skirts”
Levi is baffled that he’s the only one that hasn’t noticed it. So, the next time he walks by MC’s room, he contemplates stopping by to talk. Right... Socialize. That.
While Levi is stuck in his thoughts, MC opens the door, presumably ready to go out to a party with Mammon and Asmo.
*fish man short circuits*
MC looks...! S-so cute....!
- thinks the third born otaku.
Because I’m big on fashion, I can kind of picture an exact skirt I feel would apply to him. Let your mind run free but I imagine a semi-sheer maxi skirt with water-like embellishments uwu
But don’t get me wrong, Levi literally loves seeing MC in skirts so anything will get him like 😳 yall know how he is
Actually starts to get more interested in feminine fashion because of MC. And one day, he purchases a long black skirt from Akuzon.
He saw a popular cosplayer wearing one, and so he makes that his excuse.
No one even realizes the change except for Asmo, who gushes over the new look, even if it barely changed. MC also notices, but only compliments him/brings it up when they’re alone so Levi doesn’t overheat.
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I was this close to typing “Satan is a man of beauty and FASHION” can you believe that
OKAY ENOUGH SATAN SLANDER
Satan... He can recognize when someone else looks ridiculous.
But he knows for a FACT. That MC very likely pulls off a skirt better than anyone he’s seen before.
Call him biased, but he sincerely loves it on MC specifically.
He likes the puffier skirts because they’re ADORBS, but for a more casual look, there’s this one asymmetrical skirt in particular that makes MC look so handsome to him.
He has no idea why men don’t wear skirts more often! Surely MC isn’t the only one that can do it!
Oh. Right. Gender norms 😪🤚🏼
Satan feels his anger crawl up his skin when he watches MC get ridiculed. And just for something he simply enjoys wearing! The nerve of demons.
He advances to “de-escalate” the situation in the most “avatar of wrath” way possible, but when he sees MC’s slumped shoulders walking away from him, he feels more inclined to follow and comfort him.
Satan gives an icy glare to the irrelevant demons, taking note of their faces, and goes after MC.
He doesn’t immediately bring up the situation, instead opting to go out on a spontaneous date to a nice café or a shopping district. Anything to distract from the situation subtly.
If his plan works out, splendid. Anything to make light of situation without even addressing it for even a day is good.
If the shopping and food doesn’t quite bring MC’s smile to his eyes, Satan will just have to be forward with his feelings for once.
“MC. I’m not entirely sure how I can get it through to you, but you shouldn’t be worrying about what some moronic, low-level demons think of you or your clothes. Much less what they say. Just be you, and make them suffer ten times worse.”
MC relishes in his words, even if the last bit sounded more like a threat than anything.
The last thing Satan would ever do is let MC even hesitate wearing an outfit that he would have had no trouble throwing on any other day because of someone else.
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Asmo screams (in a happy way)
“No, Mammon! You’re wrong. MC is NOT my personal dress-up doll! He’s my model.”
Trying to break the stigma around Asmo’s “shallow” personality, let’s get the obvious things out of the way.
He and MC shop together pretty much every other day. It’s almost concerning. And nail appointments are, of course, regular.
NOW THAT THAT’S OVER,
Yes yes, Asmo loves the skirts and wonderfully glossy black nails, but there’s still such a massive divide between him and MC. Not physically, or even relationship-wise.
He’s never met someone like MC, who is so fashion-heavy and just the right amount of self-centered.
He thinks its the fact that they’re a human and demon. But he’s seen firsthand that the line between what makes a demon so different from a human is very thin. Solomon is an example of that.
But he realizes it’s just MC. He’s simply dressing for himself and himself only.
Asmo loves himself, there’s no doubt. And it’s nice to go out and dress fancy for others. He couldn’t dream of another lifestyle.
But he has to admit that what MC is doing is working for him. He comes off as a charming sort of man when he ignores the negative comments made about his clothes.
He knows that people in both Devildom and the human realm are a little sensitive when it comes to men in skirts. And the fact that MC continues to wear them is beautiful in and of itself.
This got kind of deep out of nowhere and i apologize but Asmo deserves to be seen for more than he’s constantly portrayed as 😞
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Diavolo isn’t really thrown off that much by it at first, but as time passes, he starts to understand the appeal of skirt-wearing MC.
PENCIL SKIRT LOVER 🚨🔊PENCIL SKIRT LOVER🚨🚨🚨🔊🔊🔔🗯
Barbatos has to remind him that it’s rude to stare, but he finds it almost entertaining how whipped they BOTH are for MC.
Like Asmo, he actually loves bringing him out to shop!
The only difference between the two experiences is that Diavolo has no fucking idea what he’s doing when he picks out clothes for him.
Which leads to some pretty funny/terrible clothing combinations.
No, Diavolo, MC will not be wearing a flannel top with a camouflage hi-low skirt. Put those plaid socks away.
He’s confused and even a little sad when MC continues to turn down his ideas, but he figures that he should turn this into a learning opportunity.
So he lets MC grab whatever he wants, and patiently waits for him to finish up in the fitting rooms.
The store clerk is shitting her pants at the sight of the literal future ruler of Devildom hyping MC up with the energy of a puppy retriever.
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Barbatos does an amazing job pretending like this doesn’t affect him.
He’s a classy man, he just internally loses it when he sees MC in any fancy skirt, really. From silky gold ruffles to a victorian-esc vibe, he’s obsessed.
So when Diavolo makes arrangements for an event/ball, Barbatos makes sure to, at the very least, offer to help MC get ready at the castle. He may not be the most fashion-centric but being able to spend time with MC in an extravagant get up is enough to make a demon butler interested.
Most of the time he’s disappointed because in between the seven brothers, he’d be lucky to be able to see MC at all because of how jealous they can all get.
I can imagine that even Diavolo doesn’t get to hear what Barbatos has to say about MC and his ability to make him weak at the knees.
But all it takes is Diavolo prompting, “MC’s outfit tonight... It was a sight for sore eyes, correct?”
Then, Barbatos lets a compliment or two slip out.
I can also imagine MC wearing a slightly short snd flowy skirt, and some rather disgusting demons waiting for it to get picked up by the wind, only for Barbatos to already be there, discreetly holding the fabric down and shooting them an intensely calm smile
Barbatos will always be one step ahead of creeps.
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👀..
sneaky boy is sneaky.. especially with the constant glances he gives MC.
Solomon’s favorite type of skirt to see on MC is DEFINITELY pleated. No other option.
Unlike Lucifer, if MC isn’t wearing a skirt, he makes it clear that he wishes he would’ve.
It’s in a playful manner, though! Don’t worry.
“No skirt today? Bummer. That’s fine though, I can’t expect myself to feel attracted any less.”
I imagine MC wearing a flowy skirt to some sort of event at the demon lord’s castle, and he uses his magic to make it temporarily sparkle or shine.
This mf flashy and wants EVERYONE to know that MC is dancing with HIM and no one else.
But if you ask him about it, what? What’re you talking about? Lights?? Emitting from your skirt??? While we were dancing ?¿ Crazy talk. I would never do such a thing.,.
As childish as it is, he loves to see the way it flows when MC twirls or turns.
Not in a weird way, either. It’s just beautiful to him.
So, not to be cheesy (which he WITHOUT A DOUBT is.) but he’ll occasionally just spin MC by his hand throughout the day, then catch/dip him by the waist.
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scripturiends · 4 years ago
Text
stole all the air from my atmosphere
Read on ao3
Summary: Han Joonhwi thinks maybe pulling all-nighters wasn’t so bad after all, even when you’ve practically finished studying ages ago.
Rating: T
Word count: 1,577
Notes: Inspired by a poem by Timothy Joshua. And totally optional, but I recommend listening to this song while reading.
~
Hey, all. Thanks for waiting patiently for an update. This fic is in response specifically to a request I received here. I know a lot of people have been requesting for a sequel to ‘gave me no compasses, gave me no signs’ as well; truthfully, I’m not sure if this fic is in the same ‘universe’ as that one — all I can definitively say is that this still follows the canon. So, I’ll leave it up to you to decide if it’s the same timeline or not. I have a lot of fic ideas lined up for an “official” sequel, anyway. ;) 
The Solhwi brain rot just gets more potent as we anticipate the new episodes — I absolutely love receiving plot ideas from all of you, and while it’s a challenge to interpret it in my own way, I still hope that it’s on par with your expectations. As always, I’d love to hear your thoughts and comments. You can send me a message anytime too! I know I say this often, but your continued support really really keeps me motivated to write. Would love to make new friends as well, if we can help it.
Okay, the note is getting too long now. As usual, the fic is under the cut, and all mistakes in this fic are mine. Enjoy! 
~
There was that moment, when you stole all the air from my atmosphere; when my heart pounded within the might of all the planets.
It’s the third time Han Joonhwi has bit his tongue in the past ten minutes, attempting to stifle his oncoming yawns, trying not to cause any disturbance. He fights his drowsiness as best as he can, hoping that his companion wouldn’t notice — and yet, as his luck would have it, the moment he couldn’t hold it in any longer just so happened to be the exact same moment the person next to him lifted her nose from the book it was buried in.
Without looking at him, she flips another page. Tone commanding but masked with concern, Kang Sol mumbles, “Just go to bed already.”
So much for being lowkey, he thought. Joonhwi stretches himself awake, thinking of the perfect response: casual enough to make it look like he doesn’t care, but caring enough that she wouldn’t push him away. “Not until you’re done,” he finalizes.
Sol scoffs, tossing her pen lightly on the table. “You don’t even take this class.” 
Well, of course he knew that. But Kang Sol A — truthfully, he prefers to omit the distinction: no matter how many Kang Sols there are in Korea, or hell, even in the entire world, he’s only got eyes for one — is not getting anything out of him. If getting Joonhwi to admit his true feelings was her goal, she’s far from reaching it.
“You know why I’m here,” he sidetracked. 
Unconvinced, she turns to him with a provoking look, and Joonhwi already knows she’s about to go on a long-winded rant. “Yeah, yeah, I do,” she started. “You want to hang out with me but instead of just asking like a normal person, you make up this lame excuse about how I need to study even though I was already planning on doing that anyway. You practically finished studying ages ago so you just sitting there doing nothing is really rubbing salt in my wounds.” 
He watches her with both his hands on his head, suppressing a smile. Finding an opening, Sol pushes his chest lightly. “I don’t need you here. Get out.” 
She said it so weakly that he knows there’s no way she could have meant it. Making sure she doesn’t lose her balance, Joonhwi quickly takes hold of her wrists and gently places them back on the table. “You talk too much,” he breathed. 
Sol purses her lips in annoyance and propped her chin up with her hand. “Yeah, well, that’s why you’re dating me,” she pouted.
If she keeps putting him in his place like this, he might actually have to walk out, but not for the reasons she’d expect him to, like his supposed exhaustion. Joonhwi knows Sol doesn’t do this on purpose, but she naturally has a way of making him flustered, and he’s trying really hard not to lose his cool right now. 
She stomps her feet lightly on the ground, groaning. “This is too difficult,” she complains, leaning her head on Joonhwi’s shoulder. 
Really, really hard.
It’s funny how Sol can say something one minute and then completely contradict it by the next. She says she doesn’t need him there, but clings onto him like her life depended on it. Not that Joonhwi was complaining — but he does want to have a little fun with her. He wanted to stir her a bit with something like, I thought you didn’t need me here? He knows she hates being called out for snappy remarks that she only ever means as a joke.
But a quick glance at Sol, in her favorite pajamas and one of Joonhwi’s sweaters, on the very rare occasions she has her hair down, bangs falling on her eyes, Joonhwi decided against it. Her vulnerability shouldn’t be treated with ridicule; it should be met with an equal amount of softness. After all, no one else but Joonhwi gets to see Sol like this — he finds that as a privilege which shouldn’t be taken for granted. 
“Okay.” He gives in. “Let me have a look.”
Joonhwi holds his palm out to ask for the reading material, which, as usual, Sol rejects. “Didn’t we already talk about this?”
He feigns innocence. “Talk about what?”
Her head feels heavy on his shoulder. “I need to be able to stand on my own if I’m going to survive law school hell,” she reminds him. “You can’t keep coming to my rescue for every little inconvenience.” 
“So this is just a minor setback?” Joonhwi teases. He couldn’t help it. 
“No,” Sol cries, “it’s a major obstacle.” 
She snuggles up against him, and Joonhwi could literally feel the heat rising to his face. Nonetheless, he lightly holds the side of her head for support and asks, “So what? Are you just going to give up?” 
“Of course not,” she mumbles, her breath hot on his neck. Joonhwi knows the law well, but he feels like this should be illegal. 
“But sometimes I wish I was just naturally smart like you.”
He lets out a soft sigh. Like many other things, the pair have talked about this before, and Joonhwi has never denied that he and many others have had a significant head start over Sol. But this is what he’d always tell her: 
“If everyone in this school had half as much of your wit, every crime in the world would have been solved by now.” 
To which she’d grimace and respond with, “Yeah, tell that to the F I got in Criminal Code.” 
But tonight was different. Sol wasn’t coming from a place of defeat, she was saying this out of frustration. She was probably thinking that maybe, had her life choices been different, she would have had it easier. That maybe, had she been as lucky in wealth and opportunities as everyone else, she wouldn’t need to work twice as hard as them. So that maybe, like Joonhwi, she could just comfortably sit in silence with him and enjoy his company. 
Right now, he’s treading murky waters and he’s afraid that one wrong move could give Sol the wrong idea. Joonhwi has never been the type to open up to people, but she never made it difficult for him to do so. With Sol, honesty was just the default. Telling her things he’d never entrust with anyone else came as easy as breathing. 
He takes her hand and gingerly intertwines it with his own. “I didn’t have it easy at the beginning either,” he admits. “Law school wasn’t even a part of my plan, and yet here I am.” 
This is at least one thing he knows Sol could empathize with. After being betrayed by the last person he’d ever expect to hurt him, Joonhwi’s life took a turn. To an extent, he was motivated by rage. But mostly, he was just trying to find a way to turn that pain into something useful, trying to make sure no one else has to go through what he did. And call him foolish for being too hopeful or optimistic, but he believes this is something he and Sol can do for each other. They’re two sides of the same coin: the law owes Sol an apology, and Joonhwi is coming to terms with the fact that he might never get one, ultimately being robbed of the opportunity after his uncle’s untimely death. 
Joonhwi knows his words bear significant weight to Sol. There’s a lot of things he wants to say to her but right now he just settles with, “I think you’re smart enough. If anything, you need to stop going overboard. What if you get sick again?”
She lifts her head and stares at him with doe eyes.
“That’s why I’m here.” He raises their interlocked fingers to show to her. “Why do you think I’m holding your hand? It’s so I can pull you out from under when you’re drowning in all of this.”
Sol slowly breaks out into an endearing smile, trying to repress her laughter but failing. “Heol. Han Joonhwi, since when were you so sentimental?”
Joonhwi doesn’t know where this newfound bravery came from, but he kisses Sol on the forehead lightly. “Since you needed it.” 
Sol blinks, her expression unreadable, and Joonhwi fears that he may have done the wrong thing. But much to his disbelief, she instead grabs him by the collar and closes the gap between her lips and his. They crash against one another in perfect rhythm, and Joonhwi mentally slaps himself for not doing this sooner. Never has he felt more at peace than at this very moment, which was ironic considering he was supposed to be the one doing the comforting. And yet, the lines blur when he realizes that even when their methods are vastly different, they’re at their best when they’re in tune with each other’s needs.
And right now, this is what he needs the most.
Much to Joonhwi’s dismay, Sol finally pulls away; they’re both out of breath. 
Still in a daze, he musters up the courage to ask such a stupid question. In fact, he’s surprised he could even speak at all. “What was that for?” 
“You’re not the only sentimental one here. If you’re going to kiss me, do it right.” 
That was when I knew, you were worlds more, than just a first kiss.
~
Send me your thoughts here!
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thesmokingguns · 3 years ago
Text
24 Hours
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Word Count:3454
Request/ Summary: “Can i request one where nicki gets turned down by their makeup artist or like stand in manager and hes upset and he finds out the the manager just doesnt sleep with people she just met”
I tried to write this where she breaks rules for him and turns him down. He understands what her restrictions are but he can see that living by her strict rules she created for herself she is making herself unhappy.
I hope I hit the prompt you wanted!
A/N: This turned out longer than I expected it to be so sorry about that one. I do have three requests I’m writing right now on top of some of the stuff I am writing so you can all still make requests but I'm going to be saying it’s a two week wait for a new request right now. I also want to say I am going to write a third and fourth part to the 3am Duff series because I have no self control. Thank you for everyone being patient with me and all your kind words! If you want to be added to my tallest please message me or go HERE
Tag List: @thenobodies-inc​ , @littlemisscare-all​ , @agroupiewhore , @ayablackwood​
You were having a bad day. Not just a bad day but one of those days where everything that could have gone wrong went wrong. From morning to night it was the literal day from hell for you.
8:12am You woke up, an hour after you had hit snooze on your alarm, twelve minutes after you were supposed to leave your house to get to work.
8:34am After throwing yourself together and rushing out the door, you were running out of the apartment with the cup of coffee you had economically and time consciously thought to make. On the last step before you had escaped into the day you slipped, the hot coffee spilled all down the front of your red dress, because of course it was the one day you weren’t wearing black. Rushing back up the stairs you realized that the keys to get into your apartment were in your apartment, hanging on the hook just out of reach behind the door. So you would be going to work in your coffee dress.
9:01AM You made it to work, only thirty-one minutes late. Your boss wasn’t happy that you were late on a Friday, thinking you had done this on purpose as some slight to them. Which meant they had pulled you in the office and chewed you a new asshole.
They also told you about coming to work in a clean, tidy appearance as if you had wanted to be wearing your coffee.
As you were being yelled at you watched the line back up and couldn’t help but think about how yelling at you was just making the situation worse. You also were also thinking about how next time you’d just call in sick instead of being late.
11:59AM One minute before you were scheduled to take a break, one fucking minute, and the crazy man came in. Throwing his shit smelling money at you and proceeding to vomit all over your window.
Your window, your mess. So instead of having a much needed timeout from the day from hell you were trying to scrub the smell of puke off a counter.
1:47 PM You finally stepped out for lunch. Moving to the payphone to call your roommate. She thankfully answered on the second ring of the apartment phone. At least the door would be unlocked after work, which was one thing you had been worried about.
She was quick to tell you about how she had gotten you a gig for the night. Knowing how you wanted to travel, you two had come up with a plan a few months ago to find work in Hollywood for bands or on film sets. She had been pretty popular making costumes and helping to come up with whole concepts for the upcoming Glam Rock scene. One of her usual bands needed help because their makeup artist had been sick, so you were going to work for her tonight.
This would be considered a good thing but since it was a trial run you were not going to be getting paid for this gig. So your time would be free. The makeup you used on them you needed to provide. And you have to be there at 5PM to set up, which is the exact time that you need to get out of work. Your roommate agreed to help set you up and she was going to bring you a change of clothes to the gig. It would be fine because the band wouldn’t need to be made up until 6 or 7 but it was just another thing on your plate.
So you would be losing money that you needed to pay rent on a bunch of entitled rock stars who would probably not hire you and this whole night would just leave you feeling exhausted and annoyed. Really looking forward to it.
3:49PM Your coworker went home sick with a headache so now you had to do twice the amount of work and there was no hope in hell that you would be making it to the gig in time tonight. That great first impression that you would need to get an actual long job was gone. And you were stuck with a line out the door of people trying to cash their checks all seeming to want to kill you. Happy Friday.
5:02PM You were running down the street, thankful you worked around the corner from the venue. A sigh of relief left your lips seeing your roommate waiting for you. She dragged you inside pushing you towards a bathroom and giving you a bag of clothes to change into. You lined your brown eyes with the kohl liner, winging your eyeliner and adding a deep burgundy lip shade that complimented your darker skin.
“Y/N, hurry up.” you rolled your eyes, repacking the bag and heading out where your friend was waiting for you. “I put your makeup in the dressing room already. It’s not set up yet.” she pulled you down a few hallways. Equipment for the band was more around as they started getting ready to set up everything for the show.
You entered the dressing room, seeing there was a table for food and drinks set up,  a rack of costumes for the band to wear, and finally a vanity where your makeup bag was sitting ready to be unpacked. Your friend handed you a cup, pouring a few fingers worth of vodka into it before splashing in some juice to help the taste.
“Cheers,” you tapped red solo cups drinking heavily. If you weren’t going to get paid for the gig you might as well take advantage of whatever free perks came with it.
6:23PM Sitting on the couch, legs crossed, you were chatting aimlessly with your friend when the door opened and a man walked in looking at you confused.
“Hey, I’m Y/N. I’m the makeup artist for the night.” you were quick to introduce yourself not wanting him to think you were another girl who was just trying to sleep with the band.
“Mick.” he moved to pour himself a full cup of straight vodka, “Can you do my makeup now? The three pretty boys take too much time.” Ushering him into the seat you started out on him, wondering what the hell he meant about the other guys being divas.
7:45PM A blonde burst into the room, seeming surprised that you were standing there. The girl on his arm laughed too loudly and you looked over to your roommate who was handing Mick a belt to wear. She just shrugged, this was normal for her.
“Vince, new makeup artist. You should sit now before the Terror Twins stumble in.” Mick warned him. He pulled away from the girl on his arm headed over to your chair with an easy smile.
“You're going to make me prettier, doll?”
“I’m thinking that you would look with some blue eyeshadow. It would really complete your Malibu Barbie look.” You retorted, watching amused as his mouth dropped open, not used to having someone give it back to him.
You hated cocky assholes who thought that they were God’s gift. There was nothing wrong with a  man who was confident but the way that he was looking at himself in the mirror as you did his makeup you knew he was the type that thought he was above everyone else.
8:21PM  Two men burst into the room as you finished up Vince. Looking at the two taller men you let your eyes wander over them. Vince was a diva but there two were going to be where you had the most trouble. They must be tber terror twins Mick had mentioned.
One of the guys fell into the chair, laughing about something as he sipped the beer he was drinking, rubbing his nose. He lit up a cigarette as he sat back in the chair not seeming to care if it was annoying that he was blowing smoke in your face as you tried to work.
You bit your tongue, annoyed as you tried to work around his cigarette, that he almost burnt you with seven different times. As you worked you could feel a set of eyes on you. Looking up you saw the man he had walked in with, staring at you with these intense olive eyes.
There wasn’t a chance in hell that you would be interested in any of these loudmouth guys, who all seemed to be drunk and hyperactive. It was kind of like you were doing makeup for a bunch of chimps instead of men.
8:55PM Finally the last man was sitting in your chair. His eyes gazing up at you with such intensity you stopped moving around to just look at him.
“Have we met before?” there was something familiar about him and you wondered if you had met him at a bar or at a show before.
“I don’t think so, sweetheart. I’m Nikki.” Usually when a guy used a nickname instead of your given name you chalked it up to them being a douchebag but with him it seemed natural and not derogatory, “Thank you for coming out to do our makeup today. I heard the other artist got sick at the last minute. We appreciate you taking your time to help us out…” he left it blank waiting for you to give him your name.
“Y/N.” You were surprised by how talkative he was. The kindness in his tone is different from the way the other guys have been. Just when you thought he was different you felt a hand on the back of your thigh, “If you don’t get your hand off me I’ll break your fingers so you can’t play tonight.” you warned him, looking into the olive eyes gazing up at you.
He was too good looking. The type of guy you could get into trouble with if you allowed yourself but you wouldn’t be taking home a stranger tonight.
“Do you always talk to your clients like that?” he asked with a coy smile on his face. This was the type of smug you liked. The funny easy going type who could make you laugh if you had not been on your feet for twelve hours.
“Only the ones that don’t pay me.” you replied, swiping his eyeshadow on. You wanted this to be over so you could go home and sleep.
The drummer came over, bumping into the vanity and knocking the eyeshadow off and not seeming to notice as the makeup smashed into a thousand pieces on the ground. You were officially losing a lot of money on this job and didn’t have the funds to replace it.
“Jesus, T-Bone, watch where you’re going.” Nikki commented, watching you start to pack everything up, “Aren’t you sticking around to watch the show?”  You shook your head. “Why don’t you stick around and I’ll take you out after for a late dinner. As an apology for this being a bust for you.” You were sure that the way he smiled and how his eyes were so clear made it easy for him to pick up chicks but you weren’t going to be one of them.
“I had a long day. I’m not going out with you.” You zipped up your bag ready to leave
“Listen, Y/N, just stay until we go on. Maybe I can talk to someone and you can get paid for coming out.” You did need the money. So reluctantly you stayed.
9:57PM You shouldn’t have stayed. Nikki had seemed to think you telling him you were not going out with him was a maybe you’d go out with him.
It had been an hour of him sitting on the couch getting to know you, asking questions and being nice to you. Men weren’t nice to you just for the sake of being nice, they were born without the concept of human decency.
But he had also talked to their manager, pointing at you and saying stuff you didn’t get to hear. Now you were stuck in a weird limbo wondering if you were going to get paid.
11:15pm The band rushed on stage and you were pulled aside by the manager. He handed you and envelope that you knew contained cash.
“The boys are going to have a few California gigs. If you can stick it out for a couple weeks I’ll consider hiring you for the tour. I’ll pay you $100 bucks a gig and you need to bring your own supplies to start but if you go on tour you’ll get a contract.” He said. You agreed and he handed you a piece of paper with four dates, the upcoming week, times, and his phone number to call if you couldn’t make it. There was also a chicken scratch handwriting with the name Nikki and a phone number
You were stunned when he walked away. You not only got paid but you have jobs lined up to make even more. It was a dream.
Looking up, you moved towards the stage watching the bassist move around the stage. He was high energy, loving what he was doing. There was this presence about him that drew you in. If you did get the tour position that would be trouble.
11:59PM You had finished packing up and we’re heading out of the venue to head home. You were ready for your bed and a few hours of sleep. The guys were playing tomorrow and you wanted to not be having a bad day.
Trying to sneak out, you almost jumped back when four sweaty men came barreling into the room. Your heart instantly went to your throat seeing Nikki. His smile dancing across his lips, hey black hair stuck to his forehead just oozing self confidence and sex appeal.
“You’re leaving so soon?” You just nodded at his question, wondering if it would be considered rude to tuck his hair out of his face. “Did you call a taxi or need a ride? There’s a lot of unsafe riff raff out this late.” He warned and you almost thought he sounded concerned.
“I’m a grown woman. I can walk myself home. It’s only like 15 minutes from here.” His eyebrow raised as he wiped the sweat off his face with a towel.
“I’ll give you a ride.”
“No you won’t.” You shoe back, “I don’t know you and I don’t leave with strangers I’ve only known for one day.” You responded. It was practical to have rules to keep you from getting hurt.
“Well, Y/N, we’ve known each other for two days now since it’s past midnight.” He was so calm saying this to you, “And I’m trying to cut back on drinking so if they see me leave with you I won’t be harassed so you’ll really be doing me the favor.” Thinking about what he said, your tongue licked your top lip nervously. The way his eyes followed this motion gave you your answer.
“Thank you for the offer. I’m going to say goodbye to my roommate. I’ll see you in 20 minutes outside?” You gave him a smile and  saw the way he was melting under your touch as you moved away from him.
You moved over to your friend letting her know you were leaving and you’d see her at home.
12:22 AM Adjusting the bag over your shoulder you weaved through the crowds pouring in and out of all the clubs. No one ever really bothered you walking home. It was just the cat calling and guys thinking that they had a right to run their mouths
“Y/N.” You frowned hearing your name. The roar of a motorcycle speeding up had your eyes looking out on the street.
Oh Shit. There was Nikki, looking at you with a line where his smile had been, his kind eyes looking annoyed at you. You had left him after saying you’d let him take you home but he was too pushy.
“Get on.” the steely tone of his voice made you stop what you were doing, thinking of what to do next. People were looking at the pair of you, some probably recognizing Nikki from his band. You rolled your eyes, stepping forward.
“Listen to me, I’m not getting on. I don’t know you.” His look softened and it was like for the first time he understood what the issue was.
“I just want to make sure that you make it home safe. I know you don’t want anything happening to you. It would feel like my responsibility if you went missing after doing the band's makeup.” you rolled your eyes. Eyeing him and the bike. It had been a long day and it was onlya  five minute drive. What was the worst that could happen?
1:02AM The worst thing that could happen was happening.
When you got on the back of Nikki’s Harley he had asked where you lived. As he drove, you wrapped around his back you realized for the first time of the night you were smiling a genuine wife smile.
Watching the lights of the Strip and the hustle and bustle fly by when wrapped around his warm body, the noie drowned out by the roar of the bike was nice. It felt good. So when you pulled up on your street and he asked if you wanted to drive around more you didn't say no like you should have.
Weaving around the empty highways with just the pair of you was nice. There was no conversations but it felt like you two were getting to know each other on another level.
3:55AM Nikki pulled the bike into a donut shop on the side of the highway. The smell of fresh baked pastries and coffee brewing awakening you much like the wind whipping your face had been keeping you awake but it had been almost twenty four hours awake.
The pair of your ordered black coffee and a donut, sitting on stools at the counter and eating in a comfortable silence.
“Are you mad at me?” He didn’t have a cheeky grin on his face like you had expected but he was serious. “I know you said you wouldn’t go out with me but it just seemed like you were having a bad day and I have a hero complex.” you snorted when he said this. Surprised he admitted that he had a heroes complex.
“I’m not mad. I got on the back of your bike and stayed out.” you thought for a second, “I think I needed it. I always follow my rules and never break them. I think sometimes I need a break from the rules I create.” you said all this with your heart beating wondering what the hell you were doing with this guy in the middle of nowhere.
5:41AM Nikki had wrapped his leather jacket around you, both your boots abandoned by the motorcycle as you sat with toes in the sand watching the sun rise over the Pacific. You hadn't even seen the sun rising over the ocean before so you were wrapped up in the orange and golds of the sky, how the inky black of the water came alive into blue and purple hues with the light.
It was beautiful.
It felt like something was washing over you as you watchined it. Something was changing as you watched the sun start a new day. A new day that you had this feeling in your bones was going to be a good day.
Wiping a tear away, you took a deep breath remembering that you had moved here to make your dreams come true and for the first time it felt like it was going to happen.
A hand on your back reminded you that you weren’t alone. His olive eyes looking at you, concerned. You wiped a tear away trying to laugh it off.
“I never saw the sunrise over the ocean. It’s beautiful,” It was at that moment, wrapped up in the beauty of everything that you realized that he was going to kiss you. The way his hand was against your check, wiping the tears away.
But you surprised both of you leaning forward to push your lips against his. Making the first move. You were breaking all of your rules for him but it felt good and you could tell you would be breaking more rules with him
6:00AM It was going to be a good day.
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9worldstales · 4 years ago
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MCU “Thor”: Who’s to blame for Thor’s banishment?
So I’ve seen around people blaming Loki for Thor’s banishment and…
… I can’t help but wonder if they realize that, by saying so they aren’t just pinning the blame on the wrong person but they’re doing a HUGE, GIANT SIZE disservice to Thor.
But let's list sources used for this first.
SOURCES MENTIONED:
Movies: “Thor” (2011), “Thor – The Dark World” (2013)
Comics: None mentioned
Direct-to-video animated film: None mentioned
Motion comics: None mentioned
Books: None mentioned
Novels: “Marvel Cinematic Universe Phase One: Thor” by Alex Irvine (2015)
Webs: None mentioned
Others: “Thor” old movie script, Interview “Director Kenneth Branagh and Kevin Feige Interview THOR”, interview “EXCLUSIVE: Screenwriter Don Payne Talks Thor!”, Interview “SDCC 2010: Chris Hemsworth Interview THOR”, Video “Thor (2011) Chris Hemsworth Kill Count”
Although “Thor” is meant to be an origin story for both Thor and Loki…
Kevin Feige: The movie, very much, is an origin of Loki, almost as much as it is an origin of Thor. We had to ride that balance. There were drafts where Thor took over too much, and there were certainly drafts where Loki became too prominent, and I think we found a nice balance that is clearly the origin of both of those characters. [Director Kenneth Branagh and Kevin Feige Interview THOR]
…the focus was mostly on Thor and his journey to learn humility.
I mean, this is not MY interpretation of the story, it’s basically what everyone involved in the production says the story is about. Thor is unworthy, the banishment is just, from it he learns humility and becomes worthy again.
Don Payne: Whereas we’ve got an extra-dimensional being once worshipped as a god by the ancient Norse who’s banished to earth and stripped of his powers to learn humility, all set amidst the Shakespearean intrigue of a dysfunctional royal family. You just have to find the things that make Thor timeless and relatable as a character. It certainly helps that he’s charismatic and likeable, albeit flawed. He’s banished for good reason, but I think people will want to go on the journey with him and root for him to find redemption — particularly with Chris Hemsworth’s performance. [EXCLUSIVE: Screenwriter Don Payne Talks Thor!]
Kenneth Branagh: That story arc of the flawed hero who must earn the right to be king is in our piece, but what’s key is the stakes. There, it’s Europe and England, and here, it’s the universe. When that family has problems, everybody else is affected. If Thor throws a fit and is yelling at his father and is banished, suddenly the worlds are unstable. [Director Kenneth Branagh and Kevin Feige Interview THOR]
Chris Hemsworth: At the beginning of this film, he’s certainly a brash, cocky warrior who’s about to inherit the keys to the kingdom, and his father thinks that he’s not ready. It’s the journey of him learning some humility through the film. I think he’s one of those people who has his heart in the right place. He’s doing what he’s doing for his family and to protect the kingdom, and he thinks it’s the right way to do it. It just happens to be a very aggressive way of doing it, which probably isn’t the right way. It’s about tempering that raw emotion that he drives off most of the time, into the right direction. [SDCC 2010: Chris Hemsworth Interview THOR]
And in fact Thor makes a 180° turn from how he started.
The boy then man who insisted he wanted first to kill all the Jotun then give them a lesson is the one who sacrifices his chance to meet Jane again to save them.
Young Thor: When I’m king, I’ll hunt the monsters down and slay them all! Just as you did, Father.
and...
Thor: March into Jotunheim as you once did. Teach them a lesson. Break their spirits so they’ll never dare try to cross our borders again.
versus
Thor: You can’t kill an entire race!
The man who said his father was an old man and a fool, becomes the one who says there will never be a wiser king than Odin.
Thor: And you are an old man and a fool!
versus
Thor: There will never be a wiser king than you. Or a better father. I have much to learn. I know that now. Someday, perhaps, I shall make you proud.
The man who returning from Jotunheim was too busy to care for how Fandral got hurt so that it was Odin who had to say to get him to the healing room, is the one who, once back to Midgard, first worry about having his friends getting Heimdall on the healing room and then about what he’ll do with his brother.
Odin: You cannot even protect your friends! How can you hope to protect a kingdom? Get him to the healing room! Now!
versus
Thor: Get him to the healing room! Leave my brother to me.
The man who thought his father’s lessons were wrong, then admits his father was right.
Thor: While you wait and be patient, the Nine Realms laugh at us. The old ways are done. You’d stand giving speeches while Asgard falls.
versus
Thor: Neither did I. My father was trying to teach me something, but I was too stupid to see it.
The man who first was told by Loki going to Jotunheim was madness and did it anyway then tells Loki how destroying Jotunheim is madness.
Loki: Thor, it’s madness.
versus
Thor: Loki, this is madness.
The man who would start a fight just because he was called ‘princess’ versus the man who kept on refusing to start a fight with Loki even after the other hit him four times and only does so when Loki threatens Jane.
And then there are the comparisons that got lost because some scenes got cut. For start an even better comparison, in which another man calls Thor "Princess" and Thor this time refuses to fight.
Jotun: Run back home, little princess. [Thor stops in his tracks. Loki goes white. He knows what's coming.] Loki: Damn. [In one quick move, Thor pulls Mjolnir, swings it, and KNOCKS the Jotun clear across the plaza. The Asgardians reluctantly draw their weapons, gather into a circle around Thor. Volstagg looks around at the angry Jotuns approaching them.]
versus
Drunk townie: You were in the diner with that hot girl. [Thor doesn't like where this is going.] Drunk townie: I wouldn't mind her doing a little research on me. [He laughs. Thor is annoyed.] Thor: I have no quarrel with you. But she's a lady. You should be more respectful. Drunk townie: And you should shut the hell up, princess. [Selvig looks to Thor, concerned that he's going to lose it. But, to his surprise, Thor remains unaffected by the Townie's baiting.] Thor: I will not fight him. Drunk townie: Then it'll be easy to kick your ass.
Or like the deleted one in which Frigga said that Thor believed to be ready… when in the end Thor will realize he’s not.
Odin: Do you think he’s ready? Frigga: He thinks he is. He has his father’s confidence.
versus
Thor: There will never be a wiser king than you. Or a better father. I have much to learn. I know that now. Someday, perhaps, I shall make you proud.
You might remember Thor smashing a cup because he wanted another drink… well there’s a deleted scene in which, just before the Warriors Three and Sif reach Midgard, he brings a cup to Izzy in payback for the one he broke.
Thor: This drink, I like it. Darcy: I know. It’s great, right? [Thor hurls the empty mug at the ground, SHATTERING it.] Thor: (CALLS OUT) Another! [ISABELA ALVAREZ (60), the diner’s proprietor, glares at Thor from behind the counter.] Jane: Sorry, Izzy. Little accident. What was that? [He doesn’t understand. The other patrons stare at him.] Thor: It was delicious. I want another. Jane: Well, you could have just said so. Thor: I just did. Jane: No, I mean, ask nicely. Thor: I meant no disrespect. Jane: All right. Well, no more smashing. Deal? Thor: You have my word. Jane: Good.
Versus
As the group finishes breakfast, Thor looks at the mug in his hand, gets an idea. Thor: [About a cup] May I have this? Darcy: Sure. Thor: Thank you. Please, excuse me. [Thor leaves. In front of her diner, Isabela prepares to open for the day. Isabela sweeps the front porch. She looks up to see Thor approaching. She eyes him suspiciously. He offers her a MUG.] Excuse me, Isabela. Isabela: Oh my gosh. Thor: To replace the one I broke. Please, forgive me for my behavior. Isabela: Okay, thank you. Thor: if I may, I’d like to come back here for more of yours splendid "coffee". Isabela: Any time.
And then you might remember how Fandral was hurt in Jotunheim and it was Loki and Volstagg who helped him, while in a deleted scene we’ve Selvig being hurt and Thor helping him.
And so on and on and on.
Thor started one way, this caused his banishment and the banishment changed him.
If we go and say Thor didn’t deserve to be banished, that it was all Loki’s ploy, we ignore how Thor before was an unworthy person and after he became a worthy person. We turn Thor into a person who’s ALWAYS worthy, regardless of him acting one way or its exact opposite but for some reason was misjudged and punished unfairly and never really had to change because he was perfect as he was.
We turn Odin into a fool who punished a worthy son for crimes he didn’t do and then took the punishment back not because Thor changed, but because he realized he made a mess.
The idea Thor’s banishment is Loki’s fault is against the authors’ intentions, damages Thor by stripping him of his growth and, ultimately, it’s totally false, so trying to pin the blame on Loki so as to make him look bad is simply wrong.
Although Loki did some things that triggered Thor’s reactions, Thor wasn’t completely and utterly brainwashed. It was Thor’s decisions who ended up bringing those consequences and Loki had no idea Odin would go as far as banishing Thor.
In a deleted bit Loki says Odin normally ALWAYS forgive Thor.
Fandral: Well, if he doesn’t show up soon, he shouldn’t bother. Odin looks like he’s ready to feed him to his ravens. Loki: I wouldn’t worry. Father will forgive him. He always does.
From Thor’s reaction to his banishment it’s clear it’s the first time he got such a punishment and that he assumed all he had to do to be forgiven is to retrieve Mjolnir.
The novelization is not shy to say that:
Odin had always favoured Thor because Thor was a warrior, just like him… [“Marvel Cinematic Universe Phase One: Thor”]
The Warriors Three and Lady Sif clearly follow Thor because they don’t think it’ll end up in Thor being banished for disobeying Odin’s orders even though they know he shouldn’t have done it.
This proves it was the first time Odin reacted as such to Thor’s disobedience.
But let’s dig more into the story.
Loki yes, caused the coronation to be delayed by having three Frost Giants sneak into the vault and attempt to steal the Casket.
His purpose was:
Loki: That was just a bit of fun, really. To ruin my brother’s big day. And to protect the realm from his idiotic rule for a while longer.
Loki has no reasons to lie to Laufey about this. The ‘a while longer’ clearly imply he didn’t expect it was permanent. If he had said ‘to have him banished forever’, it would have affected Laufey just the same, he wouldn’t have judged him worse.
Thor’s reaction to the invasion is entirely Thor’s.
Thor: The Jotuns must pay for what they’ve done! Odin: They have paid, with their lives. The Destroyer did its work, the Casket is safe, and all is well. Thor: All is Well? They broke into the weapons vault! If the Frost Giants had stolen even one of these relics... Odin: They didn’t. Thor: Well, I want to know why! Odin: I have a truce with Laufey, King of the Jotuns. Thor: He just broke your truce! They know you are vulnerable! Odin: What action would you take? Thor: March into Jotunheim as you once did. Teach them a lesson. Break their spirits so they’ll never dare try to cross our borders again. Odin: You’re thinking only as a warrior. Thor: This was an act of war! Odin: It was the act of but a few, doomed to fail. Thor: Look how far they got! Odin: We will find the breach in our defenses and it will be sealed. Thor: As King of Asgard.... Odin: But you’re not king! Not yet.
Loki doesn’t even talk here. Thor, despite Odin thinking the opposite, insists they should just attack Jotunheim until Odin reminds him he’s no king.
This is relevant because if the coronation has concluded and the Jotuns had found on their own the way to get into the Vault, Thor would have waged war against them. This is what he wants to do and discussing things with Odin doesn’t change his mind, Odin merely forces him to shut up with his ‘I’m the king’ card.
Originally he would leave slamming the door behind himself, a sign he was still upset. We don’t see this, but we see him he’s still upset enough he turns a table upside down.
Then he has a discussion with Loki.
Thor: It’s unwise to be in my company right now, Brother. This was to be my day of triumph. Loki: It’ll come. In time. Thor: What’s this? Loki: If it’s any consolation, I think you’re right. About the Frost Giants, about Laufey, about everything. If they found a way to penetrate Asgard’s defenses once, who’s to say they won’t try again? Next time with an army. Thor: Exactly. Loki: There’s nothing you can do without defying Father. No, no, no. I know that look. Thor: That’s the only way to ensure the safety of our borders. Loki: Thor, it’s madness.
It’s true, if Loki had revealed he had been who orchestrated the break of the Frost Giants instead than telling him he also thought they were a threat, Thor might have calmed down. But this is not excuse enough for how Thor disobeyed Odin’s order, and only proves Thor wasn’t fit to be king right there because he insisted on going to Jotunheim even though Loki also reminded him this means defying Odin.
This is a serious matter but the key of it is that Thor wanted doing it before and still wants to do it now. He just can’t control his own wish to fight the Jotuns even if his father told him no. He’s not thinking. He’s not a common warrior, he’s the man who’s meant to be king.
If it takes him so little to wage war, then he’s unworthy of being king.
And does Loki really want for him to go to Jotunheim?
Not in the slightest, he knows it’s madness, in fact, believing Thor can’t be stopped, he tries to have him tattled out to his father.
Fandral: Well, at least he’s only banished, not dead. Which is what we’d all be if that guard hadn’t told Odin where we’d gone. Volstagg: How did the guard even know? Loki: I told him. Fandral: What? Loki: I told him to go to Odin after we’d left. He should be flogged for taking so long. We should never have reached Jotunheim. Volstagg: You told the guard? Loki: I saved our lives. And Thor’s. I had no idea Father would banish him for what he did.
In a deleted scene we see that as the group is about to ride toward the Bifrost Loki leaves them for a moment to talk with a guard. He’s not lying when he says he warned the guard.
The novelization digs a lot in how Loki didn’t want them to reach Jotunheim and in how Odin KNEW Thor would just do something, so it’s entirely possible Thor would have acted even if Loki had disagreed with him or had told him nothing.
“Why did he always seem to get into trouble because of his older brother? Wasn’t he supposed to be the wiser one? Odin has expressly forbidden that they enter Jotunheim. Yet it wasn’t the first time Thor had done something reckless. And it wouldn’t be the first time Loki was powerless to stop him.” [“Marvel Cinematic Universe Phase One: Thor”]
Loki had made a decision. True, he could not dictate his brother’s actions, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t continue to make plans of his own. As the others checked and double-checked that they had everything they would need for the journey to Jotunheim, Loki slipped away. When Loki rejoined the others, they were on their way to the Observatory. Hogun gave him a curious glance, but he ignored it. What he had done was none of their business. [“Marvel Cinematic Universe Phase One: Thor”]
They were on their way to Jotunheim. And what would happen once they got there was not in the hands of fate, but in the hands of his impulsive brother and his warrior friends. Loki would not be able to manipulate events there. He had to trust that the arrangements he had made would be enough for them all to survive. [“Marvel Cinematic Universe Phase One: Thor”]
Odin spent an uneasy night and felt no better in the morning. He had not seen Thor since their argument in the Vault. There had been shouting in the banquet hall as Thor told his friends what had happened, but Odin had heard nothing since. Frigga had tried to reassure him that Thor’s temper would ease and this would blow over, but Odin knew better. His son felt himself to be king already, whether the ceremony had been completed or not. He would take action. It was his nature. Odin hoped only that the action would not cause more problems than it solved. Just then, a guard rushed to him, and Odin’s misgivings were proved correct. Thor had taken his friends and journeyed into Jotunheim. Odin felt a deep well of fury rise up within him. Thor has deliberately disobeyed his orders. So, too, had Heimdall, who should not have let anyone pass on the Bisfrost – especially not a war party going to Jotunheim. “Tell the barn master to have Sleipnir and my battle gear to be readied immediately,” he ordered the guard. [“Marvel Cinematic Universe Phase One: Thor”]
Once in Jotunheim Laufey notices Thor wants to be there to wage war. He even warns him that if he keeps this up he would unleash something terrible… and it’s not Thor but Loki who accepts Laufey’s offer for them to leave, Thor doesn’t accept it even if they’re outnumbered and risk being all killed because, as Laufey said, he craved for battle.
Laufey: Your father is a murderer and a thief! And why have you come here? To make peace? You long for battle. You crave it. You’re nothing but a boy trying to prove himself a man. Thor: Well, this "boy" has grown tired of your mockery. Loki: Thor, stop and think. Look around you, we’re outnumbered. Thor: Know your place, Brother. Laufey: You know not what your actions would unleash. I do. Go now, while I still allow it. Loki: We will accept your most gracious offer. Come on, Brother.
Ultimately, even if Laufey and Loki had almost persuaded Thor to leave, all it takes is a small provocation and Thor starts attacking Frost Giants.
Jotun: Run back home, little princess. [Thor stops in his tracks. Loki goes white. He knows what’s coming.] Loki: Damn. [In one quick move, Thor pulls Mjolnir, swings it, and KNOCKS the Jotun clear across the plaza. The Asgardians reluctantly draw their weapons, gather into a circle around Thor.]
Loki is clearly not happy with his brother’s actions, he didn’t want this. It’s Thor who decided to do this anyway and, during the battle, we see that Thor is in a great spirit as he destroys a Frost Giant after another for a total of 145 Frost Giants (you can see the dead count in the Youtube video “Thor (2011) Chris Hemsworth Kill Count”).
Through the battle first Sif and then Loki TWICE will urge Thor to leave, they’re outnumbered they’ll end up getting killed if they remain there and it gets no better when Fandral gets wounded.
When Odin shows up Thor is all for continuing the battle.
Thor: Father! We’ll finish them together!
This is not Loki dictating his moves. This is all Thor and ultimately it’s Thor who argues with his father once they’re back, which is the last straw for Odin.
If Thor had kept quiet or had acted sorry Odin might have still forgiven him. He does not.
Thor: Why did you bring us back? Odin: Do you realize what you’ve done? What you’ve started? Thor: I was protecting my home. Odin: You cannot even protect your friends! How can you hope to protect a kingdom? Get him to the healing room! Now! Thor: There won’t be a kingdom to protect if you’re afraid to act. The Jotuns must learn to fear me, just as they once feared you. Odin: That’s pride and vanity talking, not leadership. You’ve forgotten everything I taught you about a warrior’s patience. Thor: While you wait and be patient, the Nine Realms laugh at us. The old ways are done. You’d stand giving speeches while Asgard falls. Odin: You are a vain, greedy, cruel boy! Thor: And you are an old man and a fool! Odin: Yes. I was a fool to think you were ready.
This is no Loki needling Thor, this is all Thor, this discussing matching the one he had in the Vault with Odin previously.
And, credits when it’s due, at this point Loki tried to interject.
Loki: FATHER-- [Odin turns with a growl and gives Loki a look which stops him in his tracks.]
Only at this point Thor will be banished and while yes, the way Loki chose to interrupt the coronation clearly had upset Thor and his words didn’t manage to calm him down, it’s also clear that not only Loki didn’t want for them to go to Jotunheim and almost get killed but that it’s Thor’s reaction to the situation that causes his banishment and that situation could have happened regardless of Loki having a hand in it or not.
Invasions happens.
The difference between “Thor” and “Thor: The Dark World” in which another invasion takes place, is that although Thor is always trying to disobey to his father in both movies, in the first he did it because he wanted to go at war with the Jotuns, in the second he did it because he hoped to spare Asgard from a war.
In the deleted scene for “Thor: The Dark World” even Odin acknowledges Thor was right.
Odin: I thought you’d been blinded by passion but in truth you were the only one who could see and you... did what needed to be done
His motive for disobeying his father in “Thor: The Dark World” is the exact opposite than it was in “Thor”, but if he’d been the old Thor he would have had no qualms to drag all Asgard into a war.
So yes, Loki set up the situation, but if Thor ended up being banished it was solely for his own reaction to the situation, a situation that could have happened in other circumstances.
Would Loki coming clear with Odin lift Thor’s banishment?
No, of course not, because none of Loki’s actions are what moves Odin to decide for Thor’s banishment. What pushes him to decide for such a punishment are Thor’s reactions to the situation. If Loki had confessed the most this could cause was for him too to also be banished.
And, to Thor’s credits, he grew in his banishment and became a better person. This is important, it doesn’t deserve to be underscored.
Also, as said before, Loki couldn’t predict the punishment would have been banishment and he didn’t control Odin either.
Not only Loki actually tried to stop Odin, but even Frigga in a deleted scene begged Odin to reconsider and he refused.
So yes, Thor’s banishment ultimately turned out to be convenient for Loki, but he didn’t deliberately orchestrated it, he didn’t plan that far.
So really, let’s just Thor have his moment of personal growth in which he becomes a better person in his own movie, let Odin have his own agency in deciding if to punish his sons or not and just accept the whole trip to Jotunheim wasn’t something Loki wanted nor Thor’s banishment something he could predict.
In short simply accept the story as its authors wanted it to be.
I get not everyone might be aware of interviews and deleted scenes but really, I would say the movie made the whole thing obvious enough to be understood just by watching it.
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out-of-jams · 4 years ago
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Across the Board || i || kth
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(banner done by the great @kimtaehyunq )
↠ Across the Board ↞ You’d hit a low point in life. With bills piling up and your bank account empty, you were starting to get desperate. So when you got the invite to your oldest friend’s birthday party being hosted at the most popular underground casino in town, what did you possibly have to lose? You took what little you had left in your savings, put your card skills to use, and entered a private blackjack game.
And you’d won. And went back for more, and more, and more.
Until you lost.
And now you’re indebted to the city’s most dangerous mob boss, forced to pay your dues in blood one way or another. With a gun pushed into your hands and your life at stake; once you’re in, you’re in. You’ll never get out.
Word Count: 4k
Warnings/Genre: Set in the Roaring 20s! Gambling. Mature themes. Mafia!au. Mafia Don!Taehyung. Violence. Law breaking. Alcohol use. Death of minor characters. Explicit language. Enemies to lovers. Short series. 18+
                              || Next | Masterlist | |
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Danger.
It was a word right up there alongside the definition for the term “stupidity.” While not next to each other in the dictionary, they were close enough that your brain was unable to pick out the subtle differences. Perhaps you’d just always had a habit for screwing your life up, or maybe it was just genetics. Who knew?
You should have listened to the warnings, should have stopped yourself before you got in too deep. Hell, you should have done a lot of things. But you had no one to blame for your current situation except for yourself. However, if you’d learned anything throughout your twenty-two short years of life, it was that life lessons didn’t mean jack if you didn’t get yourself into messes into the first place.
Though staring down the barrel of a revolver sure was a funny way of going about it.
The air in the dimly lit back corner room was tense enough to hear the sound of a casino chip fall to the ground somewhere beyond the shut door. None of the six men sitting around the round, green felted table spoke a word. Their attention — and yours, consequently — was fixed on the single man in the room who barely even batted an eye at the clear panic evident on your face.
He sat on the opposite side of you; the scowl pulling down his bow shaped lips and the narrowing of his fierce gaze had fear chilling your veins. That man was much like an exotic animal; beautiful beyond belief, but dangerous right beneath the surface. A carnivore staring down his prey. The single light above the table threw his shadow against the wall as he casually aimed his pistol right between your eyes.
“You were saying, dollface?”
His neatly parted, straight black hair fell across his face when he leaned forward as if the next words out of your mouth would seal your fate. Not that the thought of having to have your blood cleaned from the expensive carpet beneath his expensive shoes seemed to bother him in the slightest. In fact, he’d look almost bored if it weren’t for the dangerous gleam behind his espresso irises.
“I—” You cut yourself off, swallowing roughly and glancing back down at the table. A depleted deck of cards sat in the center, two hands laid out on the surface. One was yours — a ten of diamonds and a ten of clubs — and the other his. A red ace of spades and a black jack of hearts.
You were out of money.
Having bet more than you possessed, you were also out of chances.
“It’s simple. You owe me money as promised,” his deep, baritone voice spoke up casually over the noise of your heart beating through your chest. “Either hand it over, or you won’t be leaving this room alive. Your choice.”
You closed your eyes for a moment too long to be called a blink, and cursed yourself for ever getting into this situation.
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                           One Month Ago
Final Notice of Payment
Ms. L/n,
This is a reminder that you have a balance of $20.54 that is past due. Please make a one time payment no later than—
“Oh, please.” The bill enclosed envelope hit the top of the small, circular dining room table. Or was it the kitchen table? It was hard to tell, seeing as how they were one and the same.
A sigh escaped your lips as you leaned back against the creaky wooden chair, fingers massaging your temples. That was the third bill you’d come across that morning and every single one of them was the final notice of payment. The last warning they’d give before sending someone to collect what was owed.
It hadn’t always been like that. You hadn’t always been in such an insurmountable amount of debt, not until recently. Two months ago your mother, the last bit of family you had left, died. Passed away clinging to the sheets of the hospital bed she’d been laid up in for the past half a year. Cancer, the doctors had said. From all of the cigarettes she’d burned through in the past decade or so.
Irrecoverable, they’d said.
No amount of “sorry’s” or meaningless condolences could fix the massive amount of money that the hospital billed you. Or the debt that your mother left behind, along with her slim-boned corpse that you’d had to bury in the corner of the city cemetery. Perhaps if you’d known who your father was, you could’ve laid her to rest in the space next to his own, but you didn’t. Weren’t fortunate enough to.
Bills had piled up. Rent for the tiny studio apartment the two of you had shared was demanded by the pigeon-toed old woman who owned the rundown, overpriced building. Her husband had passed away two years ago and ever since then, she’d been relentless. She pounded on your door at approximately eight in the morning everyday, shouting through the thin wood that you had until the week was up to pay what was owed. Otherwise you’d be tossed out onto the street with only the clothes on your back.
Combined with the utility bill and the fact that you still had to come up with the dough to feed yourself, you were trapped. The meagre pennies you got from your waitressing job at the diner three blocks away weren’t nearly enough. Nothing would be enough. Not unless you wanted to sell your body on the street corners in the late of night.
Which you didn’t. And you wouldn’t. You’d be more likely to end up dead in a ditch somewhere with your throat cut than out of debt. The city wasn’t safe for women, less so by those men who saw prostitutes as no more than an object to relieve stress onto. And you refused to become another headline in the paper.
Tossing the opened envelope across the table, you paused when familiar handwriting caught your eye on top of the rest of the mail pile. Addressed to you in a curling script that only ever came from someone who could afford a private tutor. You sighed, carefully sliding a knife along the top to slice it open. A waft of sweet, cherry scented perfume filled your tiny kitchen and you almost rolled your eyes at the unnecessary addition.
Jennie, your oldest friend since high school, always had an inclination for the unnecessary. Born with a silver spoon in her mouth and a gold digger for a mother, she’d had nothing else to waste her time on. How you’d even gotten on as friends with such a gap between tax brackets was still a mystery to you. Maybe it was because she’d always used her wealth and status to get the two of you out of trouble. Whether it was from breaking into the school late at night to get wasted in the halls with the rest of her friends, or to get away with slipping things from the corner store into your dress pockets.
She’d always been a rule breaker.
Which was exactly why when you read the contents of the letter, a laugh tumbled from your mouth. It was an invitation to celebrate her upcoming twenty-third birthday in three day’s time. That wouldn’t have been anything out of the ordinary, however, if it weren’t for the location. There wasn’t an exact address, there never was. Just a thin piece of cardboard the size of your hand that fell from the envelope. A playing card — a red ace. One that looked normal except for the center that had the name of a restaurant in the heart of the most rich part of downtown printed on it.
It was a ticket to the most popular underground casino in the whole city. No one knew how to get one, how to get your name onto the list that only catered to the rich and powerful. Located beneath a restaurant, it had grown to be infamous almost overnight since gambling and alcohol was outlawed. Even the coppers knew well enough to leave the establishment alone.
The only way to gain entrance was by flashing a ticket to one of the restaurant staff. That was what you’d heard, at least. You had no idea how May had managed to secure one, let alone enough to cover what you knew would be a large party of her closest friends.
Flicking the corner of the card, you couldn’t believe your luck.
Your mother hadn’t taught you very many things, had been too busy gossiping with her friends over a carton of cigarettes to bother. What she had passed down, however, was her ability to draw cards. To play blackjack with the best of them. That’d been the only thing she’d ever bothered to teach you; when she’d had too many sips of wine and her eyes had glazed over with memories of the life she used to live. 
She’d sit you down and make you memorize the names and faces of the cards until you could count them forward and backwards. Could predict what card would be drawn and when. Where she’d learned it, she’d never told you. But that didn’t matter now. Couldn’t, seeing as she was dead and all.
Grinning, you flopped back into your chair.
Maybe you’d be able to pay off your debts after all.
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And you had. Paid off your debt, that is.
After clearing out your savings account of the last fifteen dollars you had left to your name, you’d dolled yourself up and gone with Jennie and her friends. Had left the group of flappers tittering and groaning drunk at the line of slot machines at the back of the casino. Calls of bets being placed, dough exchanging for chips, and illegal cocktails pouring into glasses played as a soundtrack.
None of the card tables scattered across the underground establishment held what you’d been looking for. Neither roulette, nor craps, nor slots. The bartender had been the one to tell you where the real games were, where the cash was. A door down a tiny back hallway led to a room where private games were held. If you managed to win at one, he’d told you, then you’d win not only the pot, but an invitation to come back and play again.
Which had been an opportunity that you just couldn’t pass up. No matter the risk.
You’d won.
And now you were addicted.
To the money, the lifestyle, the adrenaline that shot through your veins like a particularly harsh sip of gin. Which was exactly why you’d gone back. Again, and again, and again, every single week for the past month. It wasn’t your fault that it was so easy. So simple to swindle your way into getting your name permanently written down on the entry list.
Oh, and the men.
It was a different group every week, but they weren’t all that dissimilar from one another. They’d sit there and smoke their cigars and drink their whiskey, all while silently mocking you with their eyes. Like they thought they were better than you just because they had a dick between their legs.
You were addicted to that too.
To watching the way their faces would fall in disbelief every single time you cleared the pot and took their money. And how their voices would raise in pitch with their countless complaints about how some lowly broad conned them out of their pocket change. Because that’s all that money was to people like them.
Change.
They were rich. You could tell by the custom suits they wore, the cologne they bathed in, the way they carried themselves. The money they gambled with always had a cap, a max amount that they were willing to bet. And the games never got too crazy, didn’t escalate once they lost to you. Which was a shame really, because you wanted more. Craved more. More of what, you weren’t too sure, but the high that playing brought only lasted so long until you came crashing back down.
Which was exactly when fate decided to change the routine.
“Here to play again, miss?” Felix, the same teenage boy who always manned the door to the gambling room, asked with a slight tilt of his head. His light brunette hair was tucked beneath a bowler hat, different from the usual fedora. Back to the door, he was standing up straight instead of his normal slouch. And the way his mouth was taught around the edges was out of the ordinary as well.
The boy didn’t have a cigarette clenched between his teeth, which should have been enough to set off the bells in your head. But it didn’t. Because you were too bullheaded, had gotten too cocky in the terms of things.
“You know me too well, Felix.” You reached out a hand to pat the lanky boy on his suit clad arm lightly, a smile pulling up at your red painted lips. “Is the usual table ready?”
The volume in the casino wasn’t as loud either, nor were there quite as many patrons. But you’d just chalked that up to the heavy rain pounding a path into the concrete outside. Though the lack of customers did nothing to eliminate the permanent smell of cigarette smoke that lingered, hidden in the walls beneath the fancy looking wallpaper.
“I don’t know if you want to play today, miss.” Felix glanced away from you with his bottom lip caught between his teeth. You blamed the flickering light in the corner of the hall for the way his freckles stood out amongst his slowly paling cheeks.
You raised an eyebrow. “Why not?”
He didn’t answer. Not at first. Silence lingered in the hall, drowning in the soft jazz music coming from the band on the stage near the back of the joint. It took the raising of your other brow for the underaged boy to finally answer.
“It’s just not a good day for gambling.”
Now that had you leaning forward until you could finally catch his flighty gaze, voice hushed in a playful whisper. “Oh really, how so? Is there a stool-pigeon running about somewhere? Should we be expecting the coppers to come kicking down the door any minute?”
“No. I—”
“Then why can’t I play, Felix?” You were starting to get irritated. The week had been long and you were ready to forget about it all for the next few hours. Buried beneath the weight of a handful of cards and glass full of gin.
Either Felix could see your growing impatience, or there really was something he was hiding, because he stepped even further in front of the door. “You don’t want to play with this group, miss. They aren’t as welcoming as the others are. It’d be best if you just went home.”
“You ca—”
“And what’s going on back here?” That wasn’t Felix’s voice and neither was it yours. You whipped around, surprised at the new addition.
The man behind you had honey brown hair parted and styled carefully until it was brushed back away from his heart-shaped face. Though some of it still hung in front of a single, dark eye. His other was uncovered, a scar running through his eyebrow and cutting it in half. Everything about him was angular, sharp. From his jawline to the slope of his nose and the corners of his full lips.
One look and you already pegged him for a cake-eater, a ladies man, if you’d ever seen one. Hell, he even dressed like he came right off the front cover of one of those Time magazines that littered the newspaper stands on every street corner. With a navy blue suit and perfect, unscuffed shoes.
“No, sir,” Felix attempted to pull the man’s attention from you unsuccessfully. “The missus here was just leaving.”
The Stranger hummed, tilting his head to study you with those sharp eyes of his. “Were you, bunny? Just leaving?”
You couldn’t help the twitch of your nose at the unfavorable nickname, squaring your shoulders and crossing your arms with a scoff. “No, I wasn’t. I want to play a few rounds, you see, but he won’t let me.”
Perhaps you should have felt bad for ratting out the kid, but you didn’t. Especially not when the Stranger huffed a laugh, a distinct ha-ha-ha! in amusement. Though there was something else in his eyes that you couldn’t name. Didn’t want to acknowledge. “You want to play a hand of blackjack, is that right?”
“Ab-so-lute-ly.” You raised an eyebrow at the man and waved a hand through the air. “I can play.”
“Oh,” He asked, taking a step closer until you had to crane your neck back to meet his imploring gaze. “Playing isn’t cheap.”
You shrugged nonchalantly. “I can pay too.”
He must have been waiting for that answer if the smirk that pulled at his lips was any indication. And he finally, finally broke eye contact to wave aside the boy behind you. “Well, did the dame make herself clear or not? She wants to play.”
You happened to turn just in time to catch the alarm that flickered across Felix’s face as he stepped to the side to reveal the door behind him. Felix reached out with a ringed hand to twist the brass knob of the door. It swung open without a sound and he gave you a quick, wide-eyed stare filled with a warning you couldn’t interpret, before looking away.
“Well?” The Stranger questioned from over your shoulder. You could smell his cologne now; husky with a hint of sweet orange.
His words were an invitation if you’d ever heard one. And you didn’t want to look like a bluenose, a prude, so you stepped inside without hesitation. Though perhaps you should have taken Felix’s unspoken warning, for you had no idea just what it was that you were walking into.
Inside the cramped room was filled with a haze of cigar smoke, which wasn’t unusual at all. What was, however, was the group of six men sitting at the circular table as you rounded the corner with the Stranger at your back. They were beautiful, all of them. A huge contrast to the usual rabble that came to play. Hell, even underneath the dim light you couldn't spot a single flaw on them.
No one noticed your entrance at first.  
Well, at least not until the Stranger cleared his throat. “Gentleman.”
His greeting sounded like it toed somewhere on the line between amusement and respect.
All movement in the room came to a halt as six men looked up from where they’d been bent over the blackjack table. If you’d been a little less prideful and a lot more careful, then perhaps the overbearing confidence that bled from their pores would have given you pause. But as it was, you stood standing, back straight and head held high. Even while their eyes roamed your figure like tigers behind a cage at the zoo right before feeding time.
A pause hovered in the air, lingering with a tension that crawled onto your skin. What seemed like hours passed merely in seconds before it was broken.
“And who’s this?” The question came from the fella who sat in the chair closest to where you stood. He was turned around with his arm propped up on the back of it, head tilted to the side in curiosity. His hair was styled similar to the Stranger’s, though his was darker and the gel pushed through the strands made it gleam silver beneath the dim lamp that hung above the table.
High cheekbones and skin the same color as molten honey, his jaw worked around a piece of gum stuck between his teeth. A smirk pulled up at the corner of his mouth, dark eyes glittering with a touch of interest. With a black and white suit that complimented the shade of his hair, the man was nothing if not a billboard: flashy. Handsome.
“I found bunny here outside arguing with Felix. Something about wanting to play a few rounds of blackjack. Isn’t that right?” The Stranger placed a heavy palm between your shoulder blades. What might have been intended to come off as comforting, only succeeded in making you feel the opposite. Like you were being put on display.
You didn’t let it show on your face. “That’s right.”
“Oh?” Gum Chewer’s smirk grew broader at that, but he said nothing else. Just leaned back in his chair.
“What do you say, should we let her play?” Blond hair, pink kissable lips and dangerous, dangerous eyes. The slim man sitting next to Gum Chewer was attractive in a pretty way that made you envious of his easy-on-the-eyes looks.
While the question may have been asked to the whole room, none of them answered it. Instead they looked towards one of the men sitting in the middle who had yet to speak. If you’d thought the rest of them were a sight for sore eyes, well, they had nothing on him. How your attention hadn’t been drawn to him the moment you walked through the door, you didn’t know.
He wasn’t even looking at you and you already felt tongue-tied. Busying himself with shuffling the cards in his hands against the green felt table, the expensive looking rings adorning his slender fingers caught your eye. He was what your mother would’ve called a timeless beauty. The type of handsome that meant he could walk the streets of the city in nothing but a sack and he’d have women throwing themselves at his feet.
Hair the same shade as a moonless sky made him look intimidating, like he belonged to the shadows themselves. A straight nose, cupid bow lips and long eyelashes that would make any broad jealous; he gave off the type of power that could make even the bravest of men cower at his feet. The longer he took to respond, the more the room grew still. As if your fate was in the hands of a man who’s name you didn’t even know.
Though perhaps it was.
A muffled thud echoed throughout the room as he tapped the deck of cards against the table once, twice, before sliding them over to the fella to his left. Plucking up the glass of scotch in front of him, he finally looked up. And graced you with the prettiest chocolate brown eyes you’d ever seen.
“What’s your name, dollface?”
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tagged: @bewitch-me​  @jxngkooksthxghs​   @kaitswrld​  @clarissalance​  @namurkive​ @ifntelyinspirit​  @kotaevln​  @red--aren  @ggukkieland​  @moonlitmyg​  @i-like-puppy-mg​  @aianloveseven​  @drumsofheaven​  @figurativehoe00​ @wonhoandonly​ @wacdon​ @hear-me-growl​ @milaridez7 @1088x1088​ @alana-ba​ @vlntaeg​
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callsign-mischief · 4 years ago
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The Gift of a Weasley Sweater is a Powerful Thing [F.W.]
Day 23 prompt of ‘A Very Harry Potter Christmas’ : ‘Weasley Sweater’
Thank you so much to @jamilelucato and @whack-ed for letting me participate in this writing challenge! I am so sorry it is extremely late, please forgive me. Hope you like it!
Fred Weasley x Female!Slytherin!Reader
Warnings: Mention of fighting, Umbridge, Umbridge’s using that quill, George being mean, a few cuss words, mention of  “bloodtraitor” *if I missed anything that should be put into the warning, please let me know!* 
Word Count: 6.5k (so sorry!)
As the Christmas holiday was quickly approaching and many students were preparing to leave the comfort of Hogwarts to spend time with their respected families, it was becoming increasingly normal to see different love-sick couples scattered about the castle basking in each other's presence to soak up every last ounce of time they could before being separated by the long vacation. What wasn’t normal, however, was seeing Fred Weasley spending any, and almost every, spare second he had with a girl doing the exact same thing. And to make it even more unusual, a Slytherin girl! 
It was a few days before Christmas break and George Weasley has had enough of seeing his brother act like a lovesick fool.
“I do not know what is going on in that head of his but I’m right ‘bout to take my beaters bat and knock some sense into him. Thank Merlin she’s not wedged her way into coming home with us!” he huffs sending silent daggered glares toward his twin brother sitting a few feet down the way at the Gryffindor breakfast table with his serpent of a girlfriend nestled into his side. He couldn’t stand the sight. How did Fred Weasley, a proud Gryffindor of all people, become entranced with none other than a snake? It just didn't make sense! 
From across the table, Lee Jordan casts a glance up towards the inter house couple before returning to face the boiling redhead sitting across from him. “Honestly George, I don’t know why you hate her so much, you've never even actually met her! She is actually quite nice y’know? She helped me escape Snape once, it was brilliant!” 
“She’s a Slytherin, Lee! The whole lot of them can't be trusted…” he grumbles, taking a quick bite of his slice of toast before sipping his pumpkin juice and clearing his throat. “I don’t know what game she's playing but I’m gonna find out what it is. I don’t want him to get hurt.”
Lee could understand where the boy in front of him was coming from. Fred had never taken a liking to any Slytherin house member before, no matter who they were, up until the week before the end of the previous school year when you had transferred to Hogwarts from Beauxbatons. “Just give her a chance George. You never know, she could be genuine in her love or whatever she feels for him and not be as bad as you think!” 
On top of what George, and almost everyone else at Hogwarts, was already putting up with this school year (aka Professor Umbridge terrorizing the school and you know whos return creating chaos amongst the wizarding world) George didn’t want to add having to be civil with a snake to his list of things to deal with. 
“Yeah...guess not but still! She has not approached any of us, his siblings, to get to know us and they have been cozied up since she got here last semester! In my book, that's already a bad sign.” he frowns looking at the couple again. 
Meanwhile down the table, the two lovesick teenagers are conversing amongst themselves, oblivious to the pointed looks from her boyfriend's twin.
“So I have Ron, George, and Ginny’s gifts all wrapped up and ready to be handed out...and I was thinking, maybe I could come up to the common room later after lessons and give them out? What better time than to finally let me meet them and get to know them than Christmas!” she asks, voice dripping with excitement and hope. 
A grin graced his lips as he admired her excitement. “That sounds like an excellent idea, love, but with Umbridge, I don’t think it’s safe to be going into others common rooms.” 
“I really would love to officially meet them, Freddie. We’ve been dating for three months and you haven’t introduced me to any of them. They’re your siblings, part of what makes you,you! Especially George. I mean come on- he’s your twin! Your other half! And when has Umbridge terrorizing the school ever stopped you from breaking the rules? I can come up and watch them open presents, maybe stay the night so I don’t get caught sneaking back to the dungeons….we can spend some time in the common room after everyone’s gone to bed?” you giggle playfully.  
“You had me at ‘stay the night’!”
Another giggle slips past your lips as you peck his lips before rising from the bench. “I thought you would like that idea. I am off to see Professor Snape before my potions lesson starts, I will see you later in Transfig, yeah?”
Fred nods quickly, leaning up to peck your lips once more before you turn and strut out of the Great Hall. He watches you go with that same dopey smile on his face and his eyes swirling with pure adoration. He was in love. 
After a hefty handful of morning classes, a quick lunch with friends, Transfiguration with Fred (whom of which you got to spend no time with due McGonagall partnering you with other people) and one intense charms lesson, it was finally time for your favorite part of the day; your free period. You weren’t sure how you got so lucky to have a free period at the end of the day but you definitely weren’t going to complain. 
Normally you would spend the free period in the Slytherin common room, on the Quidditch pitch practicing, or in the Room of Requirement (which had quickly become yours and Fred’s spot when he decided to skip afternoon lessons), but today you decided to change things up and direct yourself to the library. You had spent your fair share of time amongst many stacks of the old, dusty books for studying purposes and to grab different for-fun reading material but hardly ever did you come in here to spend your free time. 
Upon entering, you quickly set your course for the small ‘Muggle Fiction’ section that had been added in recent years, in search of a new adventure to lose yourself in. Your study partner, Hermione was the one to actually introduce you to the section and recommend a few novels to try reading and you turned out loving them all. Despite being a pureblood and having the nasty ‘I hate everything Muggle’ stereotype follow you around everywhere like a shadow, your heart couldn’t help but get excited about Muggle literature, your favorite genre so far being Romance.
Once you have made your pick of entertainment, you gravitate your way to a back corner nook of the library to get comfy-that is until you see the back of a familiar mop of fiery red hair fluttering between shelves before plopping down at a table with his books. 
Having not been able to contain the excitement of seeing your man (even though he should be in potions), you quickly divert your course to him, staying quiet with a beaming grin on your face. Once close enough behind him, you reach out, playfully covering his eyes with your hands blocking his vision from the herbology book he had been scanning through. 
"Guess who, Freddie." You giggle. 
"What the bloody hell? Get off of me!"
Your eyes went wide in horror upon hearing the voice of the man who was definitely not your boyfriend!
"Oh, Salazar, I'm so sorry! I thought you were Fred from the back!" 
George stood up from his seat, turning to you with a piercing glare, "You should really make sure you know who you are approaching before you touch them!" 
He hadn't completely yelled at you but the angry tone and rise in his voice made you want to nearly cry. 
 You cast your eyes to the side, the amount of complete embarrassment you felt had your face feeling as though it was on fire. "I..I know, and again I'm really sorry about that. I- I'm uhm...I'm (Y/N), by the way...Fred's girlfriend." You look back to him, introducing yourself properly for the first time. 
"It's a pleasure to meet you George." 
"I can't say the same for you, snake." 
You recoil at the name, "What did you just-" 
"You heard me, a snake. That's what you are, clearly. Whatever love spell you have my twin under, you need to end it, and end it now." 
You couldn't believe what you were hearing. "What are you talking about? There is no spell. I wouldn't do that to Fred, or anyone for that matter! How can you stand there and accuse me of something like that when you don't even know me?" 
“Don’t think I know you, do you? You're a stuck up, entitled, conniving witch whose family only cares about things as ridiculous as blood purity and money. Everyone knows what kind of people you are. You and Fred have been dating for months and you haven't approached any of his siblings to get to know them. And what’s more is that over the summer you didn't even want to come to the Burrow to spend time with his family; it was always him leaving to meet you. What does that say about what kind of person you are?"
"You don't know a thing. That was not because of me! That was always Fred's choice, I wanted to-" 
"No, don't try to seem all innocent now. You don’t want anything to do with us and we certainly don't like you. Now, if you'd excuse me, I best be leaving."
Before you could get another word out, George turned and collected the books he had grabbed, walking away to the front of the library and out its doors. 
*
*
After your encounter with George in the library this afternoon, your day had only gotten worse.  
You had attempted to break up a fight between two of your younger Slytherin female students but you had ended up getting elbowed in the face, leaving you with a small black eye. Yet before you had the chance to visit the Hospital wing, you were summoned to Umbridge's office.
What had been intended as a “friendly chat” -the pink toads words, not yours-, upon seeing your forming black eye when you stepped into her office, you were dished up a detention for “unacceptable display of muggle dueling from a prefect”. You tried to explain the situation and what had happened but it only seemed to aggravate the woman more. She implemented your detention immediately- the punishment being having to write lines. Instead of writing lines for the said cause of your detention, you were made to write lines for "associating with a blood traitor below your class grade". The way she talked about Fred made your blood boil with rage but you didn’t want to make your situation any worse than it was so you kept the angry words and insults for the woman to yourself.  
And finally to top off  your terrible day, you had received a letter from your parents stating that they would be spending the Christmas holiday in a tropical paradise while you were to stay at Hogwarts, alone.  The day was turning out to be too much to handle and all you wanted was Fred. But with him nowhere to be found, you took to locking yourself in an abandoned classroom in the dungeons, crying out your frustrations. With your eye swelling, your hand stinging like crazy, and your chest aching knowing that Fred's family already hated you without meeting you, you felt completely miserable.
After what had seemed like hours, you finally managed to get your hysterical sobs under control to only getting small hiccups ever so often. Your eyes stung from the hours of repetitive rubbing away of tears and you could only imagine what you looked like. Breaking from your ball-like position in the corner of the room, you rise from the chilled ground, stretching your aching limbs as you take a glance at the small watch on your wrist. You see that dinner had started almost half an hour ago. With a sigh, you emerge from the dungeon’s classroom making your way up to the Great Hall. 
When you enter through the hall's double doors, you immediately scan the Gryffindor’s table for the man you have come to love. You spot him quickly as he's waving his arms around wildly with a wide grin on his lips, seeming to be telling a crazy story to the surrounding group of his friends made up of George, Ron, Harry Potter, your study partner Hermione, and Lee Jordan. You can't help the way your eyes fill with nothing but pure love seeing him in his element; entertaining people and making them laugh and smile. Your eyes cut to his twin sitting beside him and your face falls. 
In that moment, his harsh words from earlier this afternoon ran through your head on repeat like a broken record you couldn't stop. You never wished for anything more than to meet Fred's family and have them approve of you and your relationship but with the way things were going, that would never be anything but a wish. 
You b-line for the Slytherin house table, taking a seat next to your best friend. As you start to shovel food onto your empty plate, his eyes fill with concern. 
"Blimey, (Y/L/N)! What in Salazar’s name happened to you."
You pause and give him a quick pierced glance before resuming to fill up the plate of food. "Do not start with me Zabini. I've had a rough day." 
"I can tell by that black eye of yours. Did Weasley do something he shouldn't have to make you cry? Because you know I will-" 
You crack a sad grin at his over protectiveness but let out a sigh, "N-no, he didn't do anything...he's great. It's just...I don't know.." you trailed off. You didn't want to out George and have him face Blaise's wrath, but how could you keep the day's events away from your best friend?
Blaise noticed your hesitation and rested a comforting hand on your shoulder, "hey, if you don't want to talk about it right now, you don't have to but I'll be here for when you're ready and have the right words." 
You give him the best side hug you can manage as your eyes begin to prickle with a few tears. "I know and thank you Blaise. I don't know what I'd do without you." 
He returns the hug with a smile, "probably be miserable, I suppose. But I meant what I said. Just because I support you and Weasley's little love fest doesn't mean I won't hex him into next year if he hurts you." 
You shove his shoulder playfully before returning back to plate to enjoy your meal. 
As always, dinner was delicious and you stuffed your stomach full with too much dessert. You rise from the bench along with your fellow Slytherin's and begin to trickle out of the great hall. As you are walking between Theo and Blaise, a hand reaches out and grabs your arm from behind, spinning you around. You're met with a pair of familiar soft and warm lips being placed on your own. Before you can respond to the kiss, your boyfriend pulls away with a smirk leaving you with a small pout.  
“Don’t go pouting, love. You will get more kisses soon, are you ready to go? Hell- what happened to your eye?!” he cups his hands around your face, inspecting your eye closely.
 “It's nothing, don't worry. Where are we going?”
“You don’t remember? You were going to stay the night after you handed out gifts to Ginny, Ron, and George. Which by the way, I've got to tell you, I’m a little peeved off I’m not getting my gift yet and I’m your loving, devoted boyfriend who adores you and who worries about you.”
You rub your neck nervously, looking away from him. “I’m sorry, it’s just been a long day and I forgot..”
His eyes scan your face, his frown only growing deeper “I thought you were excited, love. I didn’t think you would forget something like this. What’s wrong?”
You couldn’t help it. Hearing Fred ask ‘what’s wrong’ after the day you’ve had, unleashed a new wave of fresh tears. 
“Woah, woah, love what happened? Why are you crying, did I say something wrong?” he quickly encases you in his warm embrace, pressing your head gently to his chest to muffle your sobs. Your body shakes horribly as you try to keep yourself from crumbling right then and there in the hall in the presence of other students. 
He looks ahead to see Theo and Blaise have stopped in their places, noticing your absence and are now looking at him holding your distraught figure. He sends a pleading look to Blaise, desperate for him to give a clue as to what was wrong but Blaise only shook his head and frowned in response.  He knew Zabini was your best friend and that you told each other everything so when even he didn’t know what was wrong, Fred began to worry even more. 
As Fred held you to his chest, he gently brushed back your hair with his fingers a couple of times hoping it would calm you. Bending down slightly so as to not scare you, he whispers into your ear, “C’mon, love. Let’s go up to my room and we can cuddle until you’re ready to talk. How does that sound?”
You nod your head slowly, breathing deeply as you can as you step away from him. His heart shattered seeing your eyes so puffy and bloodshot. Gently wrapping an arm around your waist, he guides you up the moving staircases to the portrait sealing the Gryffindor common room. Fred mutters the password and once there is enough space for you both to walk through, he softly pulls you along, hoping that the room will be empty or at least empty enough so you will be comfortable walking through. To his relief, the only people who have opted to stay out in the common room were George, Lee, Ginny, and the Golden Trio. George is the first to notice his twin's sudden presence.
“There you are Freddie, been wondering where you went off to. Hopefully not to see that-”
“Shut up, George. Do you and Lee mind staying down here for a while? We would like to be alone for a bit.”
Ron pipes up from his spot on the carpet by the roaring fireplace. “We?!” 
Just then, George and Ginny’s head snap to Fred, only now noticing you curled into his side, face pressed into his shoulder. 
“WHAT IS SHE DOING HERE?! She-”
“Not now George! You’re my twin and best friend and I love you but please don’t start right now, mate. Just give us some time, please.” Fred begged. 
George backed away with a scowl before nodding. Fred glances at Lee who gives him an encouraging nod with a soft smile. With a sigh of gratitude, he thanks his roommates, guiding you to the stairs. With a flick of his wand, he says the counter charm to keep the stairs from changing and walks you up.
Once you're in the safe space of his room, he sits you on his bed as he couches down by the end of it rummaging through his trunk. Once he finds what he's looking for, he stands facing you handing you a small stack of clothes. 
"Here, sweetheart. These will be more comfortable for you than your uniform. And look, I even picked out your favorite sweater of mine." 
You let out a weak smile, leaning up to plant a loving kiss on his lips. He returns the kiss, cradling your face carefully between his hands. Fred is the one to break the kiss, placing his forehead softly against yours. 
"Let's get changed, love." 
With a final nod, you pull away and stand, moving to the opposite of the room to change giving Fred his own space. Once you're both changed, you walk back to his bed with your uniform gently folded in your hands. Fred takes the stack from you before gesturing you to get in bed. You happily oblige and wait for him to get I'm with you. Once he settles in, you get comfortable in your favorite cuddling position. You being the little spoon with Fred cradling your body to his front.
No words are spoken for the first half hour. Fred doesn't rush you to talk, only softly brushing his hands up and down your arms in slow comforting strokes. Once you feel comfortable and ready to talk, you turn over to face the loving man behind you. You wrap an arm around his waist pulling your body flush against his, burrowing your head into his chest. 
Fred let out a gentle chuckle, squeezing our waist a little tighter. “Are you ready to talk now, love?”
“I ha...frrible ay…” 
Fred let out a deafening howl of laughter. “I have no clue what you just said, do you mind repeating that more clearly for me, sweetheart?”
You pulled away from his chest, “I said that I had a terrible day.”
His joyful expression was quickly replaced by one of alarm. “Why what happened?”
‘Here goes nothing…’ You thought. 
With a deep breath you begin. “It wasn’t so bad at first. Double potions went okay, lunch with Blaise and Theo was good. Transfig sorta fell short because McGonagall split us up but that was okay too, nothing to ruin the day. It all started in my free period.” you stopped, beginning to feel nervous and nauseous . “W..we always say that honesty is the best policy...right?”
He confirms your question with a small dip of his head. “Of course”
You continue on, “I went to the library today to find a new Muggle romance book to read and well...before I could pick one that I liked, I thought I saw you weaving in and out between the bookshelves. I got excited seeing who I thought was you and so I ran up behind him and put my hands over his eyes like how I do with you and well…”
Fred knew where this was going and he instantly began to feel awful. 
“It was George, as you could have guessed and needless to say he did not appreciate that. Of course I apologized, but he was still so angry and not just about me touching him. He seemed to be mad at me, as a whole person. He accused me of having you under a love spell and said that he knew what kind of person I was because of my family. Told me I was entitled and stuck up because I haven’t approached him or Ron or Ginny to get to know them nor did I visit the Burrow to spend time with your family this summer. I tried to tell him that me not coming to your home or meeting your family wasn’t my choice but he didn’t want to hear it.” you sobbed, letting the building tears in your eyes fall freely. 
If Fred didn’t feel terrible before, he sure as hell did now! He knew that it was long overdue for you to meet his family but just when he got the nerve to introduce you, he couldn’t. While Fred was a very confident man in many aspects, your lifestyles were complete polar opposites and it oftentimes left him feeling inadequate. While you live a life of luxury, Fred and his family oftentimes struggle to make ends meet. While Fred’s family is thought of as a full lot of blood-traitors, your family name is highly admired and respected amongst the Wizarding community. Now, the Weasley boy knew such trivial things didn’t matter to his girl, but the worry he had of you leaving him once you dived in deeper to what made Fred, Fred was just too much to take the risk. 
Fred couldn’t even begin to be mad at George for what he said to you because he was too busy being angry at himself. He was the reason this happened. He was the one who kept you from meeting his family. He was the one who would reject your wishes to spend time at the place he’s called home all of his life and with the people he loved more than anything. He made you look like you didn’t want anything to do with his family when in reality, you wanted nothing more than for his family to adore you almost as much as Fred did.
“Baby I am so so sorry about all of this. George had no right to say that to you but he wouldn’t have if I had just gotten over my own insecurities. I promise I will make things right, love.” his solemn expression broke your heart and made you cry even harder. 
Wiping your eyes hurriedly, you shake your head. “That’s not even the worst of it! I got this stupid black eye from trying to break up a petty fight between two younger girls from my house, and then when I wanted to go see Madam Pomfrey, I was summoned to Umbridge’s office. One look at my eye and she gave me a detention of writing lines with that horrid quill of hers and my hand hurts so bad! And then on top of everything, my mum sent me a letter this morning saying that she and dad will be going somewhere for Christmas while I stay at Hogwarts instead! It was just one thing after another and when I couldn’t even find you, I broke down. Ended up locking myself in a classroom to cry, it was awful. That’s why I was late to dinner.”
“That bloody woman used that damned quill of hers on you?! I swear, I will make that vile woman regret ever using that on you! Let me go see if Hermione has anything to help with the scarring.” 
Before he could get out of bed, you wrapped your arms around him tighter, “No! Don't bother her about it, I just want to be with you right now. Don’t leave, just stay.” 
It was hard for Fred to contain the anger he had raging through his body but he gave in to your request.  He settled back into his position, pulling you in tighter by your waist. “I am so sorry all this happened to you today, sweetheart. I promise, the first thing tomorrow, I will make things right. I will owl mum and tell her you will be coming home with me for Christmas and then I will face my siblings and explain everything to them. Then once I’m done there, I will make that pink toad wish she never set foot into this school.”
By now the tears had stopped falling, leaving you to the occasional sniffle. “Can we just go to bed now? I’m tired.”
Fred snuggles down deeper into bed pulling his heavy crimson duvet up around you both, tucking you in. “Let’s sleep. Tomorrow will be better”
You wish Fred had been right. No sooner than you were both peacefully asleep, you had been rapidly alerted awake by Professor McGonagall busting into the dorm room. You and Fred had both sprung up to see her shaking George awake. When she made her way over to Fred’s bedside, she paused in shock seeing you there.
“Miss (Y/L/N), what in Godric’s name are you doing in Gryffindor tower? And in the boys dormitories no less!” 
“I-I.. well.. You see, what had happened was-” 
“Never mind that, we don’t have time. I need you and mister Weasley to come with me immediately.”
Once you were all out of bed and met with a disheveled Ginny, the four of you were guided back to the Headmaster’s office and upon entering, you all see Harry looking distraught. 
Ginny was the first to speak out, “What’s going on Harry? Professor McGonagall said you saw dad hurt-”
Dumbledore answered the girl before Harry had the chance. “Your father has been injured doing some work for the Order of the Phoenix. I am sending you all to Sirius’s house by portkey instead of the Burrow, where you will meet your mother. But we must hurry before Umbridge is made aware you all are out of bed. Hurry now, all of you.” 
Immediately you all gathered around the kettle you would be using to transport you and waited for the countdown from Dumbledore. On the count of three, you all placed your hands on the portkey and instantly you felt the pull behind your navel and a rush of wind before you were met with the ground of a...kitchen? 
Before you could comprehend anything, into the kitchen came Sirius Black. You weren’t entirely sure what to make of seeing the man in the flesh but looking at him as he spoke to Harry and the Weasley children, there was no way he was this “mass murderer” you had read to believe. After a small riff between the twins and Sirius about staying put instead of rushing to St. Mungo’s, he offered everyone up a butterbeer (which you graciously accepted) to calm the nerves. When you all had received the small letter from Mrs. Weasley, Sirius suggested that everyone try to obtain some rest so one by one, each of you filtered off to catch some sleep once you were finished with your respective butterbeers. You and Fred go off together to find a couch big enough for the both of you, quickly settling into deep sleep.
*
*
*
In the days that followed upon your arrival, you had finally met Mrs. Weasley and although you were seeing her at a tough time, she was thrilled to meet you and have you around for Christmas. Things were a bit tense with Fred’s siblings given the state of things, but you didn’t want to make what they were going through worse so you gave them their space. With your free time you had got to know Sirius and seemed to get along well given the many similarities between the two of you. You had also learned about the Order of the Phoenix and found that his home was made the Order’s headquarters. And then on the day the Weasley family was heading to St. Mungo’s to visit Mr. Weasley, you met a few more of the Order members, including Mad-Eye and Tonks. After a few discussions with them about the Order and their careers as dark wizard catchers you just knew you wanted to follow their paths and become an Auror and join the Order after you finished your schooling. 
It was finally the day Mr. Weasley would be getting released from St. Mungo’s and the whole lot of you Hogwarts students were busy tidying up around preparing for his arrival while Mrs. Weasley, Mad-Eye, and Tonks went out. 
You were currently cleaning down the tabletops in the kitchen with Hermione when you heard George in the next room over beginning to speak out of the blue. “I just don’t get it. My father has a near death experience and he has to come home to around another slimy snake...unbelievable.” he scoffs. 
You halt in your movement as you look up to the door separating the two rooms. The whole time you had been here, you hadn’t possibly done anything to set the boy off.
You hear your boyfriend speak up, anger laced within his tone. “George mate, stop. What the hell! She hasn’t done anything to make you be so cross with her. What the hell gives?”
You drop the towel in your hand onto the dark table, rushing over to the swinging door that separated the rooms. You push it open to see the two redheads glowering at one another in rage as Ginny,  Ron, and Harry stop in the midst of their own cleaning to watch the building argument.
“What gives?” he shouts. “What gives is that she shouldn't be here! She doesn’t belong here with the Order nor is she family! It’s not like she likes us anyways! Besides, she’s a Slytherin for Merlin’s sake! Who knows what she’ll go and tell Umbridge when we get back to school. Better yet, who knows what she will go say to those death eater parents of hers to get all of our asses all killed. ”
“That’s enough! Your bang out of line! You don’t know a thing about her but yet you decide to hate her?! That’s my girlfriend, George!”
 “None of us know her because she doesn’t want us to know her! We’re your family Fred and she’s kept herself from that. She-”
“ENOUGH!” Fred bursts in anger, making you flinch. You had never heard Fred so...so livid before. “That.  Is. Enough.” his tone rough and grave. He looked around the room, looking into the eyes of each of his siblings as he spoke, “You three loathe her because you believe she thinks of us as beneath her. She’s not like that! You all don’t know her because I didn’t want you to know her. I wanted to keep my family and my relationship separate and I see now that that was a horrible mistake and I’m sorry! She truly has always wanted to meet and spend time with you guys  but I have been the one to say no every time, even when she begged and pleaded!”
“Ginny.” His little sister's body straightened upon the hearing of her name, “you would actually really like her. The way you feel and talk about Quidditch, she’s the exact same way. You’re as much of a headstrong firecracker as she is too. You would get along so well..” 
“Ron…” he paused looking at his youngest brother, “I have never seen someone more strategic with Wizard’s Chess and obsessed with the Chudley Cannons than (Y/N). You both could talk for hours about that team and never get tired, you would think she’s great, too.”
Fred looks back to his twin, his eyes softening. “And Georgie...you’re my twin. You have no idea how hard she fought to meet you. After mum and dad, she’s wanted to get to know you the most because she knows just how much you mean to me. You aren’t just my twin, you’re my best mate. Not only does she support me, and you too, she supports our dream of opening the joke shop; something we’ve wanted since we were kids! You would love her maybe just as much as I do.  She’s actually brilliant, I’m telling you. She’s smart, funny, inventive, ambitious, and just as much of a kid-at-heart as we are..” he grinned a bit with a few tears pricking his eyes.
The tension encased in the quaint room was undeniably thick. With teary eyes, you take a glance at his siblings and see their faces are all beginning to mirror the same emotions. Embarrassment, guilt, and shame. You couldn’t lie, seeing them at least a bit remorseful for the way they treated you and made you feel, made you feel a tad bit better.
As he takes a few paces across the room to stand next to you, he looks around at his siblings one last time, “If you want someone to be mad at, be mad at me. Not (Y/N). As my family, I’m begging you, give her a real chance. I love her and I can guarantee you all would love her too.” 
You gently wrap your hand around Fred’s bicep, giving it a gentle squeeze with a watery smile. He looks down at you, tenderly kissing your forehead before grabbing your hand in his much larger one and leading you up the staircase to the room you were staying in. You peek back at his siblings as you ascend the steps, offering them a meek smile of their own. When Ginny had returned with the slightest smile in response, it gave you a new hope that things would be different from here on out. 
*
*
*
Christmas was finally being celebrated at 12 Grimmauld Place and everyone was in high, happy spirits. In the past few days, Ron and Ginny took the initiative to get to know you, and you with them; and as Fred predicted, they enjoyed you and the company you offered. You connected very well with the both of them, and you couldn’t be happier.  Mr. Weasley was ecstatic to finally meet you at last and welcomed you wholeheartedly. He ended up talking your ear off quite a bit about all things he knew about Muggles but you genuinely enjoyed his conversations and enthusiasm! 
Currently, you were helping Mrs. Weasley in the kitchen, placing the last few finishing touches on the small feast the lot of you would be indulging in when Fred and George strolled into the room. Fred waltzed over to you wrapping a strong arm around your waist, spinning you around into his chest. You giggled happily as he placed a quick tender kiss on your lips before pulling away when his mom swatted his shoulder from behind him. Mrs. Weasley announced that the food was ready and for everyone to take their seats so you could get started. Before you all tucked in, she walked around the table handing out brightly colored paper wrapped packages to each of the children. You were beyond surprised when she gestured for you to grab the one she had been holding out in front of you. 
“I got something, too? Mrs. Weasley, you shouldn’t have! Thank you so much!” You spoke as you tore open the wrappings. You see a beautifully homemade scarf and matching gloves in your house colors of silver and green. Your eyes crinkle in excitement as you wrap the fluffy scarf around your neck. You peer up at her again, “I love it, thank you!”
“You’re welcome, dear. I hear those dungeons are quite chilling, those ‘ought to keep you extra warm, I guarantee it.” 
You thank her again and before you can begin to show Hermione your wonderful gift, another package is thrusted your way. You see only this time, it’s George holding it out to you. 
“What is this?” you gently grab it from his hands, your eyebrow arching in wonder. 
“This is technically something from the entire family but I had been the one to ask mum to make it. I owe you, and Fred too, a huge apology. I was a right foul git to you and should have never said those awful things to or about you, and for that I’m very sorry. I know it doesn’t completely change the fact that it happened but I hope you both can forgive me. I have never seen anyone a better match for my twin and I’m happy he has you in his life. Go ahead and open it.“
Your beam at him as you unwrap your second gift, your eyes immediately filling with happy tears when you look down to see what it is. You take the dark green plush sweater out of the paper and hold it up, your eyes roaming over your first initial  that had been stitched in white,  in elation. “My very own Weasley sweater?!” 
George cracked a sincere smile as you hurriedly pulled the sweater over your head to try it on. “Welcome to the family, (Y/N).” 
*
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Taglist: @weasleytwinswheezes
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